Chapter 97 Chapter Ninety-Seven

Chapter 97 Chapter Ninety-Seven
Isla blinked up at her mate as he glared daggers at the dragon rider before them.

“Now is the time for you to leave, Isla,” Sylvan instructed.

“Remember our deal, Princess?” Teresa asked, ignoring the prince entirely.

“You made a deal with her?” Sylvan growled, his heated stare penetrating the side of Isla’s skull.

“I’m not leaving,” Isla said, her voice less convincing than she’d like it to be.

Sylvan turned to face her. “You cannot be here while I do this.”

“Do what?”

Sylvan’s jaw ticked, the only answer he’d give.

Isla shook her head. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve lived it through your memories, Sylvan.”

“Witnessing my version of events with the worst of it scrubbed out so I can live with myself is not the same as seeing me pull information from someone using blade and fang firsthand,” Sylvan hissed.

“So what will you do? Torture the information from her?” Isla asked.

“If I have to.”

“She’s a messenger; she wants to give us answers,” Isla argued.

Sylvan smirked and tilted his head to look at Teresa. “Is that so? Please, Messenger, tell us what the council has bestowed upon you.”

Teresa’s smirk was twice as deadly. “What’s it worth to you, Mate Killer?”

“Only your life,” Sylvan countered.

“You think you can do worse than what they’ve done?” She leaned as far forward as the chains would allow. “Every portion of my skin bears the marks of men far darker and more imaginative than you. Your threats are as dull to me as the daggers you’ll use to carve me up, Prince.”

Sylvan glanced back at Isla, one brow cocked as he waited for her to say he was right.

“I was getting all the answers we’ll need,” Isla said instead.

Sylvan laughed through his nose. “She was playing you, Isla. Giving you just enough to satisfy your needs and divert your attention from what she didn’t want you to know. You do not have experience in matters such as these. This woman is dangerous. Her mind works in ways you aren’t capable of defending against.”

“Are you calling me incompetent?” Isla hissed.

Sylvan’s hard expression softened. “No, I’m saying you are fortunate enough to not have experience with manipulative tricksters such as this woman. I do. Let me work, and if I can’t get what we want, we’ll try another approach. If you don’t want to witness my methods, leave.”  When she didn’t say anything, he sighed and straightened. “Gregory?”

“Sir,” Gregory said, walking closer and clasping his hands behind his back like a dutiful soldier.

“The dragon testing its confinement behind us,” Sylvan began. Teresa’s smirk dropped, and her eyes narrowed.

“Sir?”

“See it destroyed.”

Teresa laughed loudly, though Isla detected a slight tremor beneath the surface. “See if you can get close enough to land a blow. I must warn you, her fire will scorch you alive before you get within striking range, and her hide is impenetrable unless…”

Sylvan produced a blade from a sheath on his back. Teresa’s words died in her mouth as he brandished the gold-edged sword with an introspective gaze. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the sharpened edge, and Isla watched blood pool from the slight pressure. He spun the blade so that he gripped the blade and held the hilt out for Gregory to take. Without further instruction, Gregory racked his shoulders and strode toward the dragon.

The black guardian dragon lowered his head as Gregory passed, his eyes fixated on the blade held firmly in the soldier’s hand. Teresa seemed only slightly concerned as the soldier eliminated the space between himself and her beast. Once he was within striking range, Lussida raised her head, opened her maw, and a spark ignited in her throat. As fire roared from her mouth, Gregory didn’t flinch. The fire tore across him, swallowing him whole. Isla flinched forward, hand outstretched in concern, only for Sylvan to catch her by the arm.

When the fire subsided, Gregory remained rooted to the spot, the sword brandished before him. Teresa gasped at the unscathed man wielding a weapon that could hurt her cherished dragon.

Sylvan smiled at Teresa with malicious intent. “Have you had the honor of meeting the High Priestess, Delilah? Her knowledge of protection spells is unrivaled. Now, the information I seek?” he asked, giving her one final chance. In response, Teresa spat at Sylvan’s boots. “That’s what I thought you would say,” Sylvan sighed. “Continue, Gregory!”

Gregory moved again. Teresa snarled and lurched against her chains.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Teresa screamed.

Sylvan chuckled. “Tell us what we need to know.”

“I’ve told your mate all I have to say.”

“All you’ve woven are tales of yourself and revelations that are barely skin deep. I want to know what they told you, word for word,” Sylvan said, stepping forward to get up against the cell bars. “I want to know what your orders were and what they have planned for us. Is Tristan involved? Slade? I want the names of the council members. Why do they want me killed? When are they meeting to discuss our bonding? What the fuck are they so afraid of?”

“So many questions, huh?!” Teresa screamed. “You won’t get a single answer from me, Mate Killer. I was given a single job: eliminate you from this earth. I’ll see it done with a smile on my face. You can do with me what you will, but my lips are sealed.”

Sylvan snarled at her defiance. “Gregory!”

Gregory brandished the sword and went for a strike.

“Stop!” Isla screamed. Gregory hesitated.

“Isla,” Sylvan growled, not liking her interference.

Isla wheeled on him. “You don’t have to do this,” Isla argued, her anger starting to rise at his actions.

“We need answers, Isla, and as you’ve already discovered, she’s not going to give anything up unless there’s something in it for her. Whatever it is, won’t be cheap, I promise you that,” Sylvan warned. “We have to get to the root of her words quickly by whatever means necessary.”

“Whatever means necessary? Like sacrificing a queen, a mother, to end a war?” Isla asked.

Sylvan sat back. His narrowed eyes widened, and he gulped down his anger with a single swallow. “Isla…”

“It took you years to end the war in Tridea even though the oracle told you what you needed to do from the start. Why?”

Sylvan sighed. “I wanted to find a different way.”

“Right,” Isla said.

“This is different,” he argued.

“Why?”

Sylvan’s hand reached up and touched her cheek. “This involves you. She’s here to hurt you, us.” His eyes hardened as his head turned toward Teresa. “I won’t allow it.”

Isla grabbed his extended forearm, bringing his attention back to her. “I’m not saying we don’t need the answers. I’m not saying I want to give in to her demands. I’m saying there may be another way. A way to honor my agreement with her and allow us to know the truth without hurting an innocent,” she said, her eyes turning to the chained dragon baring her teeth.

“How?” Sylvan asked.

Isla looked around at the chamber. “I need a water source… and my mother.”

Gregory, Sylvan, Isla, and a shackled Teresa made their way through the tunnels of the Stone Conclave with Cole as their guide. She could smell the water before she heard it. Like an electrical current flowing through the ground, it invigorated her fae. She could feel the element’s power tingling at her fingertips. Within a few minutes, they entered a large chamber.

A large waterfall sprang from an opening in the rock several hundred feet from the ground. It fell into a massive pool, the depth of which could not be discerned with a mere glance. Mist from the falls hit her face, and she inhaled the sweet scent of energy that carried through her nervous system. As Cole ignited a system of torches that illuminated the wall, Isla’s tattoos glowed brighter than ever before.

“It’s from the dragons,” Ameretta said, stepping up beside Isla and inhaling the mist as though it was the first breath she’d been able to take in years. Her own tattoos lit up as she took in the moist air. “They’re conduits of magic. They cannot manifest it, but they can absorb it, carry it for generations. They leave behind residuals when they breathe fire. So much was expelled in the creation of this place. I can feel it like a vibration in the walls.” She held her hands out, palms up. “The water from this fall flows through the entire compound and ends up here. It’s powerful… life-giving.” Ameretta turned to Isla. “Why did you call me here?”

Isla nodded toward the shackled dragon rider. “Back in Tridea… When you were telling me about my future abilities. You showed me a memory of yours and said I would be able to do the same. I need to access her memories. Can you show me?”

Ameretta’s eyes widened in surprise. Her gaze flicked over to Teresa, assessed the woman, and snapped back. “I cannot show you that.”

“What?” Isla laughed. “I saw you do it. You showed me a memory of yours when…”

“Using your magic, Isla. We have a connection; you are my daughter. We share more than most. I had to gather herbs, spent hours prepping the pool for that thirty second casting, and I could only bring it to life using your tear. To pull memories from a complete stranger…” Her eyes moved to Teresa again. “An unwilling stranger? I do not have the capacity for such a feat.”

“But you said I could do so,” Isla argued.

Ameretta nodded. “I have heard that the most powerful of fae, one ruled by both water and moon, could have the capability, but…”

“Isla?” Sylvan called, stepping up behind her. His silver gaze missed nothing as it moved between mother and daughter. “Is there a problem?”

Isla refrained from rolling her eyes. Asking was merely a formality. She knew he could hear their conversation. “My idea apparently holds no footing, I’m afraid.”

Sylvan sighed long, not in annoyance but acceptance. “Okay, we can return to the cells and see what we can…”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Ameretta elaborated, drawing Isla and Sylvan’s attention back. Ameretta glanced around herself, then to Teresa before landing back on Isla. She squared her shoulders. “I said I couldn’t. You want to test your capabilities?” She gave a sharp nod. “I will help you the best way I know how.”