Gold Dragon (Heritage of Power #5)

May I incinerate him now, Storyteller? I am tired of listening to his ignorance and arrogance.

Lockvale must have heard the telepathic comment because his eyes grew even rounder. He lunged for the weapons above the fireplace.

Rysha ran to cut him off, but her boot hit a newspaper that had fallen to the floor, and she skidded. It only took her a second to catch her balance, but it was long enough for Lockvale to yank the sword off the wall. He spun toward her, gripping the weapon in both hands.

Rysha slowed before reaching him, seeing from his grip and his stance that he had experience.

“You will get out of my home now,” Lockvale growled.

“Not until you promise to revoke the charges against Trip.”

Rysha drew Dorfindral. She had experience too.

The blade glowed green, and she saw the alarm in Lockvale’s eyes, this proof that more magic was in effect. But he didn’t back down.

Seeing the glow made Rysha think that Lockvale might have some dragon blood in his veins, but Dorfindral urged her to attack the tiger behind her rather than the man, so she suspected it was only glowing because of Shulina Arya’s proximity. That meant that if she fought Lockvale, she would have only her own skills to draw upon. The blade wouldn’t help. So be it.

“Not only will I not revoke them, but I’ll add your name. I don’t care whose daughter you are. You broke into my home.” Lockvale snarled and leaped at her.

Do you wish me to flatten him to the ground, Storyteller? Shulina Arya asked as Rysha whipped Dorfindral up to parry.

Not unless I’m losing.

Rysha blocked a barrage of blows, sensing Lockvale’s frustration and anger. He hammered at her without finesse, though she did recognize a dueler’s classic thrusts and attacks.

She backed up as she parried, keeping an eye on the furnishings as she further studied his technique. He wasn’t as fast and clean with his blade work as the elite troops she’d been practicing with, and she kept him at bay without much trouble, ensuring her body remained relaxed, her arms fluid. She picked out four combinations of thrusts and slashes that he favored, repeating them over and over.

Rysha waited until he launched into one of the familiar routines, anticipated him, and burst into motion. She batted the flat of her sword against his knuckles as he swung into his second attack in the combination. He cried out, dropping the weapon. Before it hit the ground, she kneed him in the groin, then employed a leg sweep to knock him off his feet.

He fell to the stone floor, and she stepped on his chest before he could roll away. She pressed Dorfindral’s tip to his throat.

Lockvale opened his hands and looked at her face. He seemed more wary than truly afraid, and she didn’t think he believed she would kill him. Which was true. She had to figure out how to extract a promise from him in such a way that he wouldn’t feel justified in later ignoring it.

“Shulina Arya, can you show him what truly happened? And make him understand it?”

The other man is here. I am preventing him from entering the room.

Without moving her sword tip from Lockvale’s throat, Rysha looked toward the doorway.

“I understand what happened,” the newcomer said, presumably the man who had been reading upstairs. “I was there. Gemmon wanted me to join the others in testifying against the officer, but I would not.”

“He’s not an officer; he’s a witch,” Lockvale snarled.

“I suspect he’s both.”

“Go back to your books and puzzles, Jhag. This has nothing to do with you.”

Jhag—that was Lockvale’s younger brother, wasn’t it? Not the butler Rysha had guessed would be in the house with him.

“What will you do to him, Lady Ravenwood?” Jhag asked.

“I cannot let his ignorance and prejudice put my friend’s life at risk,” Rysha said, trying to sound grim and determined, like she might truly kill Lockvale. She glared down at him, making her eyes as hard as she could. “I will do whatever I need to do to protect him. Just as he would do anything to protect me.”

If my rider does not slay him, I will incinerate him myself, for he has proven himself an enemy and a hater of those born of dragons, Shulina Arya said, wood creaking under her large feline form. She’d hopped onto the table and sat on her haunches, her tail swishing about, knocking newspapers onto the floor. Though perhaps in this form, I should simply devour him? Tigers devour humans, do they not?

She shared a graphic image with all of them of a tiger chasing down a man, springing onto his back and bearing him to the ground, then ripping his head off and beginning its meal.

“Seven gods.” Jhag gripped the doorjamb.

Rysha had to fight to maintain her position, not to back away and lower her sword. That vision was so vivid that it would have been intensely disturbing even if it hadn’t reminded her of the bear that had nearly eaten her back on that barge in Lagresh.

“I’ll do it,” Lockvale said, his voice so squeaky Rysha could barely hear him.

That inspired an idea for her, that and the fact that she didn’t quite believe Lockvale.

Shulina Arya? she asked silently.

Yes?

Can you do something to his vocal cords to keep him from speaking? A temporary injury or some damage that could later be healed?

Yes, I can do this.

Good, do it please.

“Excellent,” Rysha said in response to Lockvale. “To ensure that’s the case, my magical blade here has left a stamp on your throat.” She stepped back, drawing Dorfindral from Lockvale’s neck, and waving the sword so he would take note of the green glow.

But Lockvale was busy taking note of something else. He winced, touching a hand to his throat, then opened his mouth to speak. His lips and tongue moved, but no words came out.

“You’ll tell no more lies,” Rysha said. “But if you visit the king and take back the one you told about Trip, I’ll return to your home and heal the damage to your vocal cords. If you don’t, then you’ll never speak again.”

She didn’t need magic to sense his rage and indignation.

Does this mean I don’t get to devour him? Shulina Arya asked, the words for everyone in the room. She oozed disappointment. In this feline form, the idea seems oddly appealing.

Lockvale pushed himself to his feet, looking for a moment like he might snatch up the sword and attack Rysha again, but Shulina Arya also stood, her violet eyes exuding power as she looked at him.

Lockvale unclenched his fists, then turned his back to them and stalked to a window overlooking the sea.

I guess that means the meeting is adjourned, Rysha thought.

Shulina Arya hopped off the table, and they walked toward the door where Jhag still stood, his face ashen. He hurried to step aside.

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