CHAPTER 33

The Onyx Aerie had changed. Once, it was busy and strictly ordered, filled with elaborate treasure, wealth, and servants. Now, shadows hung over broken buildings and crumbling walls. Statues portraying great Dragon Lord ancestors and heroic deeds stood limbless or headless along the main streets; defeat of what had been a proud heritage. Even the wall that once separated the Shifter residences from the rest of the Aerie had broken in places, an ugly scar for an ugly reminder. The abandoned streets were littered with debris, the edges filled with dust and leaves and the refuse of wild animals.

The new delegation, a long line of Dragon Lords and Shifter warriors, followed by the remains of the Onyx Aerie pack, was encouraged forward by a very young Onyx Lord, hardly old enough to be given such a responsibility. The mutiny must have rendered the Onyx Lords desperate, which would also explain their eager acceptance of the Onyx pack's return.

Lis looked to Cillumn at her side, dressed in the finery of the Lords, clean shaven, and hair bound tightly. Hells he was a handsome man, one she had seen without clothes often enough that she didn't have to imagine what lay beneath the impeccable material. He hadn't balked when she insisted on coming for the reunion of peoples. She was grateful, too. She would have found a way to come, anyway, but it was relieving not to have to fight for it.

He had, however, insisted on a great deal of protection. So much that Lis wondered how the Onyx Lords could help but feel that they were an invading force, rather than a peaceful commission.

The echoes of the delegation's footsteps proceeded them to doors that had been ripped from the main hall, and Lis gaped as they entered. When the pack had lived there, she hardly had reason to enter this building, but the few times she had, she remembered opulence and the feeling of great importance of the room. Now, it was nothing but empty remains. The rich tapestries that had hung along the walls were gone, as were the soft carpets. Many of the windows were missing, too, gaping openings left in their wake. It was clean, however, the stone scrubbed and polished.

A group of Lords awaited on the dais. They, too, were clean, if dressed more simply than the Lords of her memory.

The delegation halted before them and Lis studied the man at the forefront. The new Archon. He would be responsible for the remains of her people. She hadn't been able to save a single victim of the possession process. Through isolation only was the pack now free of threat. Yet, watching Shifter after Shifter forfeit their lives as they became aggressive and mindless had cost her heart a great deal, enough that she felt the need to do something to ensure they had a better chance here.

“Greetings, Lord Archon. May your rule be more successful than your predecessor,” Dynarys, one of the Lords who insisted on coming along, began. Even to Lis' ears his speech was harsh and accusing.

The Archon, an ancient looking man with enough silver through his hair and eyebrows to rival the moon, frowned, black eyes flashing. His displeasure was well contained, though, and he forced a smile. He waved an arm in a welcoming gesture, the robes of black and gold swung with the movement, then, with a stooped gait, he approached the group.

“Amber Aerie Lords,” he spoke, “it is with hearty welcome that we thank you for guiding our Shifter pack back to their rightful place.” He gestured to the Shifters. “Together, I hope we might rebuild our once great home into an Aerie worthy of honor and praise. It has been too long since it was such.” He eyed the gathering before him and then returned his attention to the Lords. “You will forgive us, though, for our lack of hospitality. As reduced as we are, we cannot tolerate your presence for long. We ask, respectfully, that all that belong to the Amber Aerie leave at dawn.”

Lis stiffened. How was that for a thank you? It took all day to travel to this Aerie and they would not be allowed to stay past dawn.

The Lords of the Amber Aerie were not as surprised as she was. Not one even raised an eyebrow in distress.

“Perhaps, in that short time, Archon, we might discuss a treaty of peace. It would please the Amber Aerie well to know that our neighbors in the Onyx Aerie had...settled.”

Lis did not pretend to understand why Dynarys felt the need to press a treaty then. It was obvious that the Onyx Lords were no threat, their resources and numbers were both reduced, it would be many years, generations perhaps, before they recovered. But then, that might be his goal. They hardly had a choice but to negotiate now, not when even her Aerie's representatives outnumbered them.

Her Aerie's representatives. When had she begun to think of the Amber Aerie as her home? Belonging to her? It had something to do, she imagined, with being inundated with visitors and welcomes, and even gifts, since injecting Gayriel with the antidote. Even mated to a Dragon Lord, the Shifters of the Amber Aerie did not shun or reject her. Perhaps having an Alpha that was half Dragon himself had changed them. Gayriel, too, would hardly leave her alone. Two days from her full recovery, both she and Tharissa had ambushed her and forced her to go...shopping, of all things. Since then, she had taken to hiding in the medic room with the door locked to avoid her. Lis was still a bit bemused about the event. She wasn't quite sure how she was tricked not only into going, but spending a substantial amount of money.

Regardless, she hadn't been lonely. Quite the opposite, actually.

Shocked at her own thoughts, she nearly missed the indication that they were to proceed upstairs to the dining room. All of them. Lis blinked, surprised as the Archon waved his arms to include the Shifters, as well. It was unheard of to mingle in such a fashion, especially in a setting that wasn't battle or battle practice.

Lis studied Dynarys' back as he led the way to the stairs. Was it his destiny to cause changes wherever he went?

“You look beautiful,” Cillumn whispered, his words only loud enough for Lis' sensitive ears.

She wanted to shake her head. She wore a combination of black and cream, a longer gown with a satin type finish and long cream gloves that rose past her elbows. She looked ridiculous, and she was useless in such things. Her hair, too, was a mess of curls, left impractically down so that it was constantly in her way. She wanted to deny it, but the look on his face prevented her from speaking. His eyes, once again, glowed and she had come to understand that meant that the dragon within him had been roused by emotion...or passion.

It should have frightened her, but somehow it didn't. It excited her. She looked away, confused by her own desire. Wasn't she angry at having her choices stripped from her? She had the urge to rub her face vigorously. The gloves would allow no such thing, though, and they had started up the stairs, behind the other Lords.

The dining room was a sight to behold, lined with tall windows that stretched toward the ceiling and high enough to give a view of the entire Aerie and the plateau beyond. The light from the setting sun glowed red across the land, stealing her breath with the beauty of the sight.

That had once been her home, even if it had never fit quite right.

There were eight tables, constructed, by the looks of them, from a single stretch of trees. Very large trees. The reddish wood grain of each shone with fresh scrubbing and care.

It was a testament, Lis supposed, to how full the Aerie once was, and now drew attention to the emptiness. The tables were large enough that the entirety of our population fit at one, and the Archon gestured to the table near the windows, glancing wistfully at the highlights of his domain before seating himself.

What must it be like for him? To witness such a fall of his people?

Much like it was for Lis to witness the fall of hers, she wagered.

She was surprised when several women entered. These, given their bearing and clothing, were not servants, though they bore platters of food that they set before the delegation. Lis watched the graceful and proud movements warily. She was correct, too, that they did not retreat once the meal was set, but took up the empty chairs next to the Onyx Aerie Lords. The Dragon Mates.

Taking a deep breath, she stifled the nervous twinges in her stomach. She hated such things, meals with fancy dresses and speeches that do not say what they mean, but it hardly compared to the real danger she had faced recently and survived. So she straightened her back and pretended not to be intimidated.

The Shifters, or at least the Onyx Aerie Shifters, appeared vastly uncomfortable, as well. Her mother, Lis noticed, fussed with her blond locks, fingers shaking, eyes resolutely downward.

“Now,” the Archon announced. “It may be a meager feast, but we will share it with the hopes of new alliances.”

It wasn't the Amber Lords he spoke to with such hope, his words were aimed directly at the Shifters, an amends, and recognition of the value of the long held arrangement between people. Thornic, the newly positioned Alpha, was the only to respond, or even look up. Seemingly as flustered as the rest, he nodded sagely and then returned to staring at the table.

Lis couldn't tell if the Archon was pleased, or disappointed with the Shifter's lack of enthusiasm, but an older woman on his right leaned into him, hand brushing lovingly on his arm, and whispered something in his ear. His face softened as he turned to her, a slight smile gracing his lips and folding the wrinkles at his eyes.

Was that love? It looked...nice. Could something emotional last so long? So that one was never truly alone again?

Lis looked at Cillumn speculatively. His eyes, too, were riveted on the scene, an expression of desperate longing on his face.

Suddenly all her resistance, her anger over the mating, vanished. She was a fool.

What else could he be wishing for but a bond such as that...with her? And she was wasting time and hurting him with her constant rejection, because of what? Anger with herself? Lack of control in the matter? What would happen if she simply accepted what he offered without preamble? If she allowed fate to fall into place? It was an illogical time and place to come to the conclusion facing her. Maybe love was illogical, too.

The feast was simple, but the food was hearty and pleasant. And the talk, surprisingly, faded to more pleasant topics. Discussion of cropland and the coming wet season, and some new contract between the two human cities associated with the Aeries concerning lace, of all things. Topics Lis had no interest in, but that allowed her to sit pleasantly to the side with no risk of making a fool of herself.

The dining hall had survived the conflict in far better condition than the lower levels. All the windows, save one in the corner, remained intact, as did the tapestries that lined the pillars between. An odd scene, and gruesome. Battle, but not against the Quatori, this was a battle of the races. There were few Shifters represented, perhaps from a time when her people still kept mostly to themselves, but humans and dragons abound, many fighting and dying. Who would hang such a thing where people ate?

It was the image below the battle that caught Lis' attention, though. The conversation faded in her ears, as her eyes processed the story. Eight humans...feeding on a body, blood and gore clinging to their hands and faces, maniacal grins on each.

Suddenly, she didn't much feel like eating anymore. The scene was so much like the possessed monsters they were facing now.

And worse, far worse, each one of them was holding a glyph in their blood covered hand.