David Wells - Cursed Bones

“What choice did I have?” Abigail said. “No one else had any chance at all against that dragon. I was the only one who could do what needed to be done, so I did.”

“You could have retreated, you could have sued for peace and offered terms for a truce, you could have ignored the dragon and focused on the land battle, you could have sent your Sky Knights against me, you could have surrendered, or better yet, you could have stayed on Ruatha where you belong, yet you chose to engage me when you are clearly not my equal.”

“I cut you in half, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Zuhl said. “I must admit, I would have been more cautious had I been aware that your brother had given you the Thinblade, another perplexing development. Why would he do such a thing?”

“He didn’t think he could be both the Sovereign of the Seven Isles and the King of Ruatha at the same time.”

“Why not?” Zuhl asked, leaning in with great interest. “Not that I accept his claim as sovereign mind you, but I’m very curious about his motivations. Were I in his shoes, I would never relinquish either the Sovereign Stone or the Thinblade.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Abigail said with a little smile.

“Why would he?”

“It created a conflict,” Abigail said. “He couldn’t rule Ruatha as king and still expect the other island kings to accept him as sovereign.”

Zuhl’s frown grew even deeper.

“Power is not about seeking the acceptance of those you rule, it’s about imposing your will upon them, whether they like it or not,” he said.

This time it was Abigail’s turn to shake her head. “You don’t get it, do you? He doesn’t want power any more than I do … he just wants to live his life and be left alone.”

Zuhl stared at her as if trying to reconcile two versions of reality that couldn’t coexist before shaking his head in frustration.

“Back to your reasons for engaging me,” he said. “My questions for your brother are best saved for him, should we have the pleasure of a conversation before I claim victory over him. Why would you risk your life when you had such little chance of success?”

Abigail put her biscuit down and fixed Zuhl with a glare. “Because I’d committed good people to a battle that they were going to lose as long as you were riding Ixabrax. Killing you was the only way to save them from defeat … and the only way to get to your ships.”

Zuhl shook his head again. “Your motivations escape me. I don’t understand why you would risk your life for the safety of your subjects-their place is to serve you, your place is to command them, not die for them.”

“You have it exactly backwards, Zuhl,” Abigail said. “My place is to serve them, to protect them from the ambitions of tyrants like you.”

“I don’t comprehend you at all,” Zuhl said. “Things I don’t understand make me uneasy.”

“Good,” Abigail said, punctuating her statement with another bite of biscuit.

He glared at her for a moment before composing himself again and beginning a new line of questioning.

“You mentioned Ixabrax. Why didn’t you kill him? Why set him free? How could you know that he wouldn’t turn against you the moment you cut his collar?”

“I didn’t,” Abigail said with a shrug, “but I trusted my instincts and it paid off. He sank one of your ships for me.”

“You gave up your one chance to strike on a hunch?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Abigail said. “I met a dragon once before … she was a magnificent creature. It turned my stomach to think of her in a collar like Ixabrax, so I cut him loose.”

“You take great risks without due consideration of the consequences,” Zuhl said.

“I’ve heard that before … from my father no less,” Abigail said. “Tell me something, why are you doing this? What do you want?”

“I want what everyone wants, immortality and the worship of every living soul,” Zuhl said.

Abigail stared at him, mouth agape for a moment before she burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said, still laughing.

“No, I’m not,” he said, looking somewhat offended by her impertinence. “Don’t you want to live forever?”

Abigail frowned and cocked her head to the side for a moment. “Huh, I hadn’t really thought about it. Death is just a part of life, part of the natural cycle. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die, certainly not anytime soon, but I’ve always known my life would end someday.”

“What if it didn’t have to?” Zuhl asked, leaning in again. “What would you do for the chance to live forever?”

“I don’t really know,” Abigail said.

“I do,” Zuhl said. “I’ll do anything I have to.”

“I guess that’s the difference between us,” Abigail said. “There are some things I love more than my own life.”

Zuhl looked down at his plate, shaking his head again.

“Why did your brother commit the bulk of his forces to defending Fellenden?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“Because your barbarians were killing innocent people,” Abigail said.

“But Fellenden is nothing to you or your brother,” Zuhl said. “Phane is your enemy. He’s attacked you again and again, yet you declare war on me when I’ve done nothing to provoke you. Again, I don’t understand.”

“It’s really very simple, Zuhl, you were hurting innocent people and we had the power to stop you, so we did.”

“When doing so puts your own people in jeopardy? Even now, Phane is building his strength in Warrenton. When the spring thaw comes, he’ll overrun your forces and his Lancers will be free to wreak havoc throughout northern Ruatha, all while your forces are mired in Fellenden.”

“Alexander’s looking at the bigger picture,” Abigail said. “If we’d permitted you to build your fleet, we wouldn’t have had a chance in the long run. He made a sound strategic decision with full knowledge of the potential consequences.”

“Perhaps,” Zuhl said, nodding slightly. “At least such an explanation is based on reason, more so than some of his other decisions. Where is he now?”

“I wish I knew,” Abigail said, putting her biscuit down. “He was going to talk to a dragon, last I knew, but he could be anywhere by now.”

“Tanis? The bronze dragon who rules in the Pinnacles?”

“No, Bragador, on Tyr,” Abigail said.

“The chromatic dragons-why would he go to them?” Zuhl asked. “They’re even less interested in the affairs of men than the bronze dragons.”

Abigail realized she’d said too much. Zuhl didn’t know about the Nether Gate, and she had no intention of being the one to tell him.

“Isabel’s been infected by one of Phane’s minions,” Abigail said. “Alexander’s gone to collect the ingredients for a potion that will heal her.” A half-truth made for a better lie than an outright fiction.

“He sends his sister to wage war against me, leaves his home to fend for itself, and ventures off to bargain with a dragon to save his woman?” Zuhl scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. No man worthy of being called a Lord would make such poor strategic judgments. There must be more-he must have another purpose.”

“If he does, I don’t know what it is,” Abigail lied.

Zuhl scrutinized her closely, his eyes narrowing before he nodded.

“Your brother has a gift for seeing colors,” Zuhl said. “As I understand it, his magical vision offers him insight into the nature and intentions of others. Quite a powerful skill. When I learned of it, I developed a spell that accomplishes a similar result, though through very different means. I cast that spell just before you arrived. Up until now, you have answered my questions truthfully, but you just lied to me. Why?”