Page 96 of The Death King

I was mesmerized by this story, slowly seeing Talon change right before my eyes.

“I overheard Uncle Barron speak a few insults about my father. My intuition felt more than resentment, but danger. Deep in my gut, I knew there was more than anger between us. It was hate, and I could feel it. I warned my father, told him I’d spotted Uncle Barron and his sons in places they shouldn’t be, but he never heeded my warnings.” Now he closed his eyes, like continuing forward was too much to bear.

I waited, hoping for more but would never ask for it.

“Uncle Barron and his family staged a coup. They laid down their plans like roots in a forest. They forged an alliance with the shamans, took control of the dragons we lived alongside peacefully, and took the throne directly for my uncle. My father was burned to death. So was my mother. So was my entire family…” He bowed his head and looked at the soil beneath his boots, his breaths elevated like he would collapse under the weight of the grief. “It would have been me too, but I had the gift.”

I felt my eyes smart from his tale, the sight of despair making my chest tight in sorrow.

“Khazmuda was strong enough to resist the shamans. He felt my mind—and he saved me. He took me before they could burn me too. But after watching every person I love succumb to a horrible death…there wasn’t much to save.” His eyes remained down. “We fled. Khazmuda flew hard, eventually shaking the dragons from our trail. We ended up in a land far, far away. When he dropped me to the ground, I didn’t get up again.” His voice trailed off, and the silence entered the clearing. He lifted his eyes to the fire but not an inch farther. A sheen was in his gaze, but it wasn’t thick enough to form tears.

I was stunned into silence. Couldn’t even say I was sorry. I was too horrified to say anything at all.

When I thought he wouldn’t say anything else, he spoke again. “Khazmuda asked me to help his brethren, to avenge my family and take back the throne. I said no. He pleaded with me…and I said no. Nothing he said would change my mind. I’d decided I wanted to die, and he couldn’t talk me out of it.”

My eyes watered further, knowing exactly how that felt.

“A lot happened in those twenty years. Khazmuda and I went our separate ways. I was taken prisoner by pirates. I visited lands I’d never heard of. Met people I hadn’t believed existed. The pain subsided and the numbness came…and then Khazmuda and I conquered your lands to control your armies. We intend to take back the Southern Isles and free the dragons who have been enslaved—once I believe we have a chance to win.” Silence returned, and he stared at the fire. Then he lifted his chin to look at me, his emotion replaced by a resurgence of anger. “Our chances got better when I met you.”

My breathing was labored, but I wasn’t sure when that started. The pain he felt suddenly became my own. I could feel it as if it had happened to me, could feel the flames burn my skin as if I were the one tied to the stake. “I’m—I’m sorry.” The words felt hollow because they were meaningless in light of his suffering.

His eyes dropped again, and he turned quiet.

I expected nothing more from him.

But then he looked at me again and stared, his eyes intense the way they were when we were alone together. “I’m sorry too.”

Khazmuda landed in the clearing, an elk in his jaws. Couldn’t find the cave. Fog was too thick. He dropped his kill to the ground for Talon to dress. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Talon unsheathed his knife and got to work, expertly dressing the animal and preparing it for the fire.

I helped, skewering chunks of meat and placing them on a stick.

We worked together in silence, and then I placed the spit over the fire so the meat could cook on the inside and char on the outside.

Khazmuda lay on the ground with his chin resting on his talons, like a dog waiting for his dinner.

We sat in silence and waited for the meat to cook.

I was tired of a carnivorous diet and missed bread, pasta, fruit, and vegetables but I knew those weren’t an option, so I stopped myself from thinking about it. It would only make my stomach gnaw harder.

He told you.

My eyes lifted to Khazmuda. Talon was leaning against the log as he cleaned his blade, unaware of the conversation. Yes.

I’m sure it was hard to hear.

It was.

I hope one day I have the pleasure of burning Barron alive.

I hope so too.

The dragons had lived peacefully with Talon’s people for generations. Even as their population grew, they never felt like a threat. We stuck to our lands, and they stuck to theirs. At any time, we could have burned their kingdom to the ground, but we foolishly thought men were good. Learned that only some men are good…and the rest are easily corrupted.

I’m sorry for what happened to your kin.

As am I. It haunts me every day. The guilt consumes me…that I escaped and they did not.