“Those Ddraigs were murdered!” Siri howls, silver fire bursting to life in the sky over my tent. “The king of that time employed magicians who conjured and dabbled in the occult at his whim. When his lust for our lands finally reached its peak, he sent for his magicians, demanding that they find a means of overpowering our side of the Devil’s Spine. The magicians decided that the best means of attack was with their Ddraigs.”
“But those Ddraigs, our distant brethren, were much harder to control. They were not interested in finding Cadogans and submitting to the rule of another. They wanted their independence.” Lerual swallows, closing her sunflower eyes as she rushes through the rest of the explanation. “In their quest to overpower the Ddraigs, a magician killed one. We don’t know if it was accidental or experimental. Either way, he must have tried to use his magic to revive the poor creature, and instead, he discovered a far more terrible way to ensnare them. As long as the Ddraig’s complete life essence had not drained out of its heart, the heart could be spelled to keep beating. The magician could tie his fate to the heart, giving him unnatural strength and power…and longevity, it would seem.”
“They killed their Ddraigs, Iris. Massacred every winged creature on their side of the mountains, all for the sake of their own greed. They drank the blood of the fallen ones, and it also gave these magicians uncanny abilities to change their shapes. They can shift to become whatever they wish: Ddraig, animal, even taking the appearance of another human being.”
“That version of myself—the one that I saw in your memory just now,” I mutter, eyes growing wide. “That was one of them, wasn’t it?” That creature is pretending to be me, dying over and over in front of Cyrus. The very idea makes my stomach churn in revulsion. He won’t survive long under such treatment, I admit, painfully recognizing that I sent Cyrus to this danger. How did it get to him? Why didn’t Suryc keep him away from that monster?
Siri roars, and for the first time I am grateful for the mental shield she’s placed between us. I don’t think I could face another problem right now. “Yes, Iris, your suspicions are correct. The magicians took on a new name—forsaking their claim to the human race, they created the species Vibría.” Siri hangs her head, whispering, “And now, one of those creatures is with Cyrus. Your precious Wolf is trying to use him to break Cyrus’s mind—and Suryc fears he is succeeding. Can you imagine how bad it could be for us if that monster learns about our whereabouts? What if he finds Suryc? We’ve got to go help them right now!”
“Hang on! Wolf wouldn’t do such a terrible thing,” I exclaim, immediately feeling a sliver of doubt splinter its way into my confidence. No, I reason as I consider Wolf’s previous character, he wouldn’t start working with Déchets just because he hates his brother. Would he? “It could be some kind of trap. How do we know that what you’ve seen is the truth? And how do we know that you aren’t somehow channeling my Gwen abilities and seeing something from the future?”
“Do you really want to risk it?” Siri growls, swiveling her head until one furious silver eye focuses squarely on me. “You’d ask me to gamble on your hopes that Wolf’s not as bad as past history suggests, all because you say so? Suryc called to me in desperation and fear, Iris! He’d never lie to me! Would you truly ask me to leave Suryc unprotected? Are you so cold hearted that you’d sacrifice Cyrus, all for the sake of your pride?”
Of course not! I demand indignantly, even as I wonder if there is any truth in Siri’s accusations. I wouldn’t do that…would I? “Fine. Lerual, go to Drake and the nomads. Tell them that we are going to my old house. They are not to leave this place until we come back for them—make sure they know that. Then, send Enomena and her Ddraig after us; she can act as our go between until we can return to you all.” Lerual bobs her head with a pity-filled glance at my Ddraig before veering off to follow my orders.
Siri wastes no time, expertly swerving her flight pattern in the direction of the House of Vultures. The thought of returning to Wolf should bring joy to my heart. Instead, the idea of being near him once more chills my blood. How can I ever look at him and not remember the visions from the Carreglas? The way he tortured his brother, so brutal, so merciless, and so excited by the pain he inflicted. And Cyrus—how can I look him in the eye, knowing he truly was once the only source of joy and life in my childhood days? His past doesn’t erase the hell he put me through, yet I cannot deny that my opinion of him has changed slightly for the better.
“What else have you seen, Siri?” I demand, wondering how often she and Suryc have relayed messages to one another since their separation. Did she tell them how I am floundering as a leader? Does Cyrus know that I’m failing? Does he realize that he was right to take the House of Vultures from my grasp? I’d have screwed it up even worse than he did.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Siri assures me, her voice gruff as she struggles against a gusting wind. “There’s not been much time to talk about you at all, Iris. Mostly, Suryc’s been brooding over Cyrus. He’s putting himself in grave danger, all to try and please you.” Siri’s voice turns harsh as she growls, “Suryc won’t leave him, but the torture his Cadogan’s enduring is hurting him too. My love is suffering, Iris.”
Though she does not say it, I
