Page 219 of Burn Her They Said
But Sal was not out there with us when?—
Varic’s face turns ashen, while his ears remain a deeper shade of red. His eyes flick up to mine with a mix of suspicion and fear dimming the light behind his irises. Then he blinks and puts on a stern exterior before adding, “I understand you sent your elite team of trackers into the forest, and they returned without having found any evidence.”
“Correct. Now explain why you think otherwise,” the Emperor commands.
Varic squares his shoulders. “It is the only section of our border without an Imperial Army presence. Both because the terrain is too treacherous for an encampment, and we have no reason to suspect anyone would be so bold as to utilize the pass, since only the dwarves have ever been known to do so and live.”
Emperor Aldritch gestures for Varic to make his point.
“Yelm may have sent flying sorcerers with packs carrying ammunition.” The Emperor’s face pales, and he makes no argument when Varic pauses to allow for it. “What if other lands have joined forces with them to bring their best flying sorcerers together? What if the reason we could not find any trace of footprints on the ground is because they lived in the trees, perhaps stringing hammocks from one to the next to sleep aboveground the whole way?”
Emperor Aldritch turns to Wyrth, and something appears to pass between them as the Philosopher nods. Though their expressions never shift, not even in the slightest.
“No flying sorcerer, aside from our own Imperial Guard Fray, could possibly clear that height, nor remain in the air long enough to clear the mountain on the other side. I refuse to waste even a single Imperial coin to station a patrol near the area, because nothing aside from a Dragon could clear it.” The Emperor waves in a flippant gesture.
Varic’s nostrils flare, and his eyes dart to mine before returning his attention to the Emperor. “Then we must request an audience with an Elder Dragon, wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Pass
Mirinea struts onto the lawn, snapping the point of her golden tail from side to side as she nears us. The corner of my mouth lifts with the leisurely pace she takes, proving what little importance she considers our purpose for summoning her.
Emperor Aldritch bends into a deep bow to the Elder Dragon standing before him. “Mirinea, thank you for granting us an audience. I ask for any knowledge you might have of foreign Dragons nearing the Yelm Pass within the last month.”
Her golden eyes drift closed as she sits back on her haunches, then the ground shakes when she drops fully down to her belly, crushing the dead stalks of grass beneath her weight.
“You are concerned the foreign Dragons might be assisting in the attacks on the Imperial Palace, and on Imperial Grand Witch Tasch,” Mirinea projects into our minds.
“I have a working theory that Dragons may have escorted flying sorcerers through the pass in order to infiltrate our Empire,” he lies.
“It is a clever theory, Your Majesty.” Her voice rises as her gaze flicks over to Varic before returning to narrow at the Emperor. “Though a Dragon flying to the pass would not signal an alarm, as it would not break the accords.”
“Can you not sense whether a Dragon made it to the pass without crossing the border?” Emperor Aldritch asks.
“Our wards detect any Dragon who attempts to cross the barrier into our territory. We can only know if a Dragon dares to step or fly within our land—not whether one flies near the barrier.”
“Did you or any of the other Dragons happen to sense any sorcerers living in the forest?”
“Emperor,” Mirinea’s tone takes on that of a parent with a child who has asked a question with an obvious answer, “we do not deign to track the movements of magical beings, aside from when we fly with our blood-bonded.”
“Of course.” Emperor Aldritch drops into another bow.
“If you are so concerned, you might ask Kresmea to escort you to the pass and check for yourself,” Mirinea says.
The Emperor’s nostrils flare as he nods before turning around to stride past his Guards without a word.
“I trust you have been cautious after my warning,” Mirinea chides me.
I share a meaningful look with her before following the Emperor and his Guards back to the Palace.
“I understand you have reservations with your Guards’ plans of extraction. However, I implore you to understand the time has come for you and your sworn protectors to accept aid from their bonded Dragons and flee. I can no longer ensure your collective survival if your stubborn nature causes you to remain out of some misplaced sense of responsibility.”
Every hair on my body stands on end, prickling beneath my clothing.
“But I am responsible. I gave my word. I took a vow to help uphold the Empire.”
“No, Tasch. One does not possess responsibility for promises made under duress.”
