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To her surprise it was that same officer that stepped up to her side. His piercing gray eyes and blond hair were striking alongside the svelte form that could have him mistaken for a member of Sebastian’s personal guard as well.

Keeping his voice low and pitched for her ears he said, “We would ask that you don’t venture out of your place again Lady Weathervane.”

“How did you know I was going to move?”

“Training has made me apt at capturing movements of the body. Besides you were fidgeting.”

Ciardis said nothing.

“In any case it is important that the envoy is not angered.”

He hesitated and then admitted honestly, “This was unexpected....unexpected and unwelcome. The females are the ones that fought on the battlefield, the warriors of the dragon race. They are known far and wide as bloodthirsty and insatiable.”

“Well, this sucks,” she whispered back.

He didn’t bother commenting. There was nothing to say. They were faced with a high-ranking Ambassador of the most fearsome gender of the dragon race. If she decided to kill them – they were dead.

As he stepped back to his place she reached out to latch on his sleeve, “Thank you. For the explanation I mean.”

He bowed slightly, “You are welcome.”

Ciardis inhaled deeply and sought to calm herself. She couldn’t imagine how Sebastian felt, standing right beneath her jaws. It probably didn’t help that he was also staring up into a closed mouth that was larger than his whole body. When the Ambassador opened her mouth and she saw the serrated teeth as long as her whole body, the sensation of being a rabbit staring in fear into the mouth of a ravenous wolf was hard to ignore.

Turning its head away from the humans, it chuffed once more. This time a big black ball of gook shot out, straight into the ocean. It looked digusting as it passed over their heads and smelled even worse.

Ciardis had the urge to run her fingers through her hair just to be sure that none of the liquid had lodged in her curls. It would be her rotten luck if it did.

Is it sick? she wondered.

“I am not sick,” proclaimed a booming voice in her head.

The rest of the sailing party hadn’t heard Ciardis’s query, but they had certainly heard the directed response. And they knew it was directed at her. If censure could be palpable, the vibe she was getting from the surrounding retinue was like a heavy blanket of displeasure weighing down on her.

So I’m not supposed to think now? Delightful.

“Ambassador Sedaris,” said Sebastian smoothly, “You flew three hundred miles to our empire. Let us pay our respects and welcome you properly.”

The female’s head titled to the side until a bright amber eye stared directly at Sebastian.

“Yessss,” its mind spoke, a hint of a slither in its voice.

“I confess, Ambassador, we have wondered at your reasons for asking for a meeting to be held on the ocean.”

“Neutral territory.”

“Come again?”

The dragon lowered its head until it was level with the ship, “I did not misspeak.”

“Indeed,” Sebastian said with a cautious glance at the commander to his left. What was this dragon up to? The ship was much too small to maneuver. The honor guard of pike men and soldiers he’d brought along were just that: an honor guard. They were tightly packed in for a display; they weren’t meant to fight. And they certainly weren’t meant to battle a dragon with the advantage of unlimited skies at a push of its wings and the ability to breathe fire down upon their ship.

“My sisters have sent me here for one reason and one reason alone,” she proclaimed. “We have received grievances against your empire.”

“Grievances?”

Kith,” she hissed, “Kith who have come to us with tales of death and magic devoid of life.”

“Ambassador, I—we—have heard no such tales. The Algardis Empire has maintained peace with the kith peoples for centuries.”

“Our grievance is not about peace. It is about the dead—the living dead. Souls trapped in this life while their bodies have gone to the next.”

She raised her wings and lifted her forelegs in the air. “I will rest in the guest quarters for my kind in your capitol city, Prince Heir. I will stay as long as needed to ensure this is addressed. But be warned: Our patience is limited.”

Without any warning she lifted off and flew into the skies. She was heading east toward Sandrin.

Ciardis was sure she wasn’t the only person left behind wondering what the hell had just happened. As she stared at Sebastian and he looked back at her, her confusion mirrored in his eyes, she got the feeling that life in the courts had just gotten a lot more interesting.

As the ship returned to port Sebastian pulled her aside. It was but a moment—to whisper a message in her ear. And then he left her standing still.

Chapter 4

As the ship docked back in the bay, the Weather Mage said proper goodbyes to his Imperial retinue and walked down the gangplank. Seeing that all of the carriages available at the dock were reserved for the Prince Heir, he decided to walk towards the wharf and see if he could find a tuk-tuk. Wiping his brow of the perspiration that had accumulated there, he lugged his heavy bag in one hand, breathing a sigh of relief that it was over.

Marcus hadn’t been feeling well all week and today was no exception. As he walked farther up the dock, a sharp pain in his head nearly drove him to his knees and he cried out.

None of the sailors surrounding him paid the least bit of attention. Most made sure they were looking in the opposite direction. A group of men off to the side coiling ropes near a docked ship began mumbling amongst themselves. These sailors were careful not to speak loudly enough for the stumbling mage to overhear them though.

“Just another drunk mage on the docks with one too many shots of whiskey in his belly”, said one.

“When they get drunk like that leave them be,” another replied, “The magic folk are nothing but trouble. Drunk ones are worse.”

One sailor with an oiled and pointed black beard grinned and bared a mouth full of rotten teeth as he brandished a long, curved blade, “This will show em what’s what.”

The first sailor to speak turned and spit over his shoulder – wishing away the foolish words of the man before him, “You couldn’t rob them because they’d set you on fire with their minds, but if you tried to help, they’d stiff you the minute they were well, their noses up in the air. Who needs that kind of grief?”

Their muttering continued as the Weather Mage staggered up the dock. He only paused once – a momentary lapse as another wave of pain hit him.

As he crouched in pain, the Weather Mage took deep breaths and looked around for a quiet place. He needed to take his medication and he didn’t want any onlookers interfering. Standing up, he raced toward the open doors of a large storage house. None of the workers were going near it as dusk fell, and it looked as if it had been recently emptied, straw everywhere and some smashed crates near the entrance.

As he hobbled into the building, the pain was getting worse—much worse than it had ever been before. He fell against a wall and slid down onto the dirty floor. Ignoring the state of his robes, he desperately fiddled with the clasps on his baggage. It was one of those confounded mechanical ones that kept thieves from getting into his prized possessions, but at the moment with his pain-clouded mind, it was only prolonging his misery. Finally getting the combination lock to unsnap using the symbols he’d set, the bag popped open with a distinct click.