With us walking into the palace together, I even managed to forget about the knot in my stomach caused by the uncertainty that was his fiancée, Seraphina. For now, I could pretend everything was all right. He was here, and I was here, and that was all that mattered if we were going to get through the evening.
My jaw dropped as we stepped into the grand hall of the palace. The extravagance was unreal. I wasn’t even sure how they’d managed to put it all together in such a short amount of time. Sapphire-plated towers of vials in all sizes rose up, almost touching the ceiling, and there were glinting crystal glasses filled to the brim with a dark, ominous substance. I wouldn’t be eating tonight, but the coldbloods could gorge themselves. Besides, I’d already wolfed down a packet of powdery casserole that had kept me from the brink of passing out.
All around the floor, elegant dancers whirled and turned, their flimsy gauze costumes floating, making them look like mysterious fairies. Jewels glistened on their ashen skin, the contrast striking. Melodious music trickled down from an orchestra set up at the head of the hall. The instruments weren’t recognizable to my human eyes, but the sounds they made were beautiful. It was eerie and stirring all at once, almost making me want to take to the floor with the whirling dancers.
“What are those towers made from?” I asked, keeping my voice low. The stone was like nothing I’d ever seen before. It was opalescent in its sheen, but the stone itself was rippled through with veins of sapphire, creating an awe-inspiring marble effect. The same stone was draped around the necks of several revelers as necklaces, sparkling with every turn they made in the soft light of the hall.
“It’s opaleine,” Navan explained. “We mine it from a planet called Zai.”
“Zai? Is it near?”
He nodded. “Near enough.”
“Do people live there?”
He sighed sadly. “A race called Draconians live there. They’re a humanoid dragon species, very powerful—not that it does them much good.”
I frowned. Dragons. Another mind-blowing species to add to my list. “Uh, what do you mean, ‘not that it does them much good’?”
“They could be the most ferocious race in the universe—they’re towering, they breathe fire, they have twice the strength of coldbloods—but they’re perpetual pacifists and highly religious. Their faith prohibits violence,” he said somberly. “Opaleine is their sacred stone, used in all their rituals and celebrations, but the coldbloods have mined it mercilessly, knowing the Draconians won’t fight back.”
I felt a flicker of anger, though this wasn’t fresh news to me. I knew the coldbloods were merciless plunderers, searching the stars for anything they could pillage and steal. Still, it didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. If they could rampage across a planet with such strong inhabitants, Earth would be a breeze to them.
“Opaleine has become more prized here in recent years, though,” Navan went on. “The coldbloods stopped mining Zai after a strange plague started spreading across the planet, deadly to our immune systems. Since then, opaleine has become a cherished object—a symbol of absolute wealth and power. Only those rich enough, and formidable enough, have any left. As you can see, Queen Gianne has it by the bucket-load.” He flashed a grim look at the gleaming towers.
“What caused the plague?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
He shrugged. “Nobody knows. For a long time, the coldbloods suspected the Draconians had released it themselves—I suppose it doesn’t count as violence if there’s no bloodshed. Not to a coldblood, anyway.” His tone was bitter, his eyes burning with a deep-rooted hatred for his home planet. Vysanthe was a planet that ran on greed and dread—in a way, it was its own plague, infecting the universe one planet at a time.
All around us, the best and brightest of Vysanthe had gathered. They were all beautifully dressed in elegant gowns and suits of a quirky style, with sharp edges and intricate patterns, and each one was clamoring for the attention of Queen Gianne, who was mingling, a glass of that red substance in her hand. Nobody was as exquisitely dressed as the queen, whose dress flowed out in several ruffled layers, leaving a long train behind her. On closer inspection, I realized that each layer was encrusted with opaleine, the heavy hem having to be hauled around by several attendants, who rushed to her aid every time she moved. Her copper hair was piled high atop her head, with opaleine-studded combs shaped like snowflakes protruding from her mass of curls.
Shimmery black shadow had been blended around her eyes, making her silver irises pop, and seem all the more deadly. On her lips, she wore a deep, sultry red, with powder brushed beneath the harsh lines of her cheekbones, so that they stood out even more. A savage beauty, indeed.
“Navan, there you are!” a voice called from across the crowded room. Navan froze, a look of dread passing over his face, as a handsome older couple made their way toward us. I had seen them before, in the image that had flickered up on the holographic comm device.
The Idraxes were moving toward us. There was no escaping them now. Beside me, I felt Navan tense.
“Mother, Father,” he said tightly.
As they neared, I saw that Jareth and Navan shared the same facial structure, though he had his mother’s slate-gray eyes. The latter was smiling warmly as she embraced her son, pulling him into her arms whether he wanted to be hugged or not. Jareth, far more restrained, offered a hand, which Navan shook politely.
“It’s so wonderful to see you!” his mother cried, holding him by the shoulders so she could look at him properly. “Why didn’t you tell us when you got back? We’ve missed you!” There was a hint of hurt in her voice.
“We didn’t even know until Queen Gianne mentioned something about you returning with Lazar,” Jareth added, sternly. “I spoke with him, since you seemed to be… out of range. He said you were ‘decompressing.’” A disbelieving grimace passed over his face, though Navan’s mother’s expression never ceased to be anything other than delighted.
She was a beautiful woman, her smile coming easily, her lavender gown highlighting the color of her eyes. I wasn’t expecting Navan to introduce me, because I realized he couldn’t. I was a pet, a slave, an underling—I wasn’t worthy of such an honor.
“Will you join us back at the house after the celebration?” she asked hopefully.
Navan shook his head. “I have too many things to attend to, Mother.”
“Well, you’ll sit with us, won’t you?” she ventured. “Your brothers are here… though I think they’re distracted by those dancers,” she added, looking unimpressed. I cast my gaze over to a group of tall, striking coldbloods standing to one side of the dancefloor, admiring the sight of the flowing dancers. There were seven in total, all of them sharing Navan’s dark features, though in my opinion, none were quite as handsome as him.
Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)
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