“Could there be more?” the Drake asked with curiosity more than fear.
“There’s always more,” Kassian replied dryly. “How long will this take?”
Adan’Karth looked around, as if the answer lay before him. “I cannot say. My people will hear my message, but whether or not they choose to come remains to be seen.”
The Keeper took a breath to continue his recovery and let his head fall back. “Were you telling the truth back at camp?” he asked, though the question didn’t look to surprise Adan.
“I have never lied,” the Drake told him.
“So it wouldn’t be death,” Kassian probed, “if you… gave yourselves to the tree?”
“Does this worry you?”
“Death?” he echoed, wielding the word as if it carried no weight. But then it began to sink in, the finality of it, an absolution from all things. He then grew more serious in both expression and tone. “Of course,” he said honestly, if quietly. “You are an entire people. As much as I fear you all losing this life, I fear what Verda will lose without Drakes in it.”
“I did not lie,” Adan reiterated. “The tree is a source of life. It is not the life we know, but our presence will forever be felt. Those currents that flow through you and those like you will have a touch of us in all of them.” The Drake’s expression finally cracked, displaying a hint of apprehension. “That is not to say I look forward to such a thing. Change is difficult and… frightening. As much as I know it is not death that awaits us, I know it is not the life I have come to enjoy. But what choice do we have? I am half dragon and wholly magic. I cannot fathom life without it.”
Kassian had to look away, lest Adan see the tears welling in his eyes. “When this is all over,” he began, finding the courage to look Adan in the eyes, “I am going to build a new world for the conduits of this realm. The king will help me. It will be safe and purposeful. It will be a place where people and magic can come together in harmony. A place where your sacrifice will live on in all of us.”
Adan’Karth offered the Keeper a warm smile. “This place you speak of, it reminds me of Ikirith, our home.” The Drake turned to the north. “Its remains are not that far from here. For me at least.”
Kassian’s hand twitched by his side, hesitant to perform an act of compassion he had long forsaken. Finally, he managed to rest that hand on Adan’s shoulder and squeeze.
“I wish there was another way,” he whispered.
Adan placed his hand over Kassian’s and smiled before looking to the sky. “What is it Asher says about wishes? Ah, yes. Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see which one fills up first.”
Kassian maintained his serious expression before it cracked in amusement. “Of course he does,” he laughed.
37
Hard Truths
Under a still and cold night, beneath an ocean of watching stars, Inara strode up the middle of the road towards the Great Lodge, her red cloak floating out silently behind her. A handful of people passed her by, hurrying to their homes. Like most towns and cities under Alijah’s reign, there were curfews in place that only granted so long outside after dark - an attempt to track down rebels no doubt.
An example of such a thing could be seen down an adjacent street, where a pair of Reavers were watching every patron as they filed out of a closing tavern. Inara returned her sight to the gates ahead, using her hood to conceal much of her face.
Two human guards, those allowed to remain in the governor’s service, saw her approaching and stepped forward to bar her way with a halberd each.
“I pray you stop, lady,” the older of the pair commanded.
Inara did not wish to create a scene and so she obeyed. “I request an audience with Governor Harlan,” she announced with clarity.
The same guard who had spoken to her raised an eyebrow in doubt. “The hour is late - the governor’s appointments are finished for the day.”
“Curfew is almost upon us,” the younger man chipped in. “Best you return to wherever you came from and be quick about it.”
Inara only briefly regarded the younger man before returning her full attention to the first guard. “Tell the governor,” she said, moving her cloak aside to reveal Firefly’s crystal pommel, “that Inara Galfrey is at his door.”
Her name struck both guards like a hammer to the head. They quickly turned to each other sharing the same perplexed expression before giving each other a knowing nod.
“Go and inform the master,” the older man instructed. “We’ll enter via the kitchens. I’ll bring her to his study.” The other guard gave Inara one last look before rushing off into the Great Lodge. “Quickly now,” the older guard said to her. “We need to get you off the streets. The governor will want to meet you.”
Inara allowed the man to usher her through the gates, though his attention was mostly cast over the streets, checking for Reavers if she had to guess. As was explained to the younger guard, they entered the Great Lodge via the kitchens and quietly made their way through the decorated halls until they reached the ornate door of the governor’s study.
“Wait inside,” the guard insisted. “The master will be with you shortly.”
Inara entered the study and drew back her hood as the door was closed behind her. It was a large room, larger than any one person required of a chamber to read and sign documents. The walls were lined with books, the shelves separated by the stuffed heads of bears and stags. It was sparsely lit by a handful of
