The Queen of Death

54

Te’oma peeked around the edge of the doorway leading into the observatory and saw Sallah and Xalt standing behind the red dragon. In the air, the creature had seemed large enough to swallow the sun. Here, squatting inside a building—even one so massive as this—she seemed even bigger, as if the walls bent away from her to avoid her touch.

When Sallah raised her sword to strike at the dragon, the changeling considered shouting out a warning to the queen. She knew it would be a betrayal of those she had accompanied here, but there was little love lost between her and Sallah or Xalt. To alert the queen to the danger would put the dragon in her debt.

Te’oma doubted, though, that the dragon would see it that way. She’d probably kill the changeling right after she finished incinerating the warforged and the knight. The best that Te’oma could hope for from such a betrayal would be a quicker death.

She had to admit, though, that this was not the only reason she opted to let the lady knight strike. Te’oma wanted nothing more than to see these dragons hurt—killed if possible—and if she couldn’t muster the courage to attack them again herself, she at least wouldn’t stand in anyone else’s way.

Te’oma winced when Sallah’s first blow glanced off the dragon’s scales. Then she cheered silently when the lady knight’s blade cut deep into the dragon queen’s tail— although she slipped back behind the edge of the portal and out of the creature’s sight, just in case.

As the changeling waited for the furor inside to die down, she felt like a fly on an open table. She knew that the dragon-man aboard the Phoenix with Monja could kill her in an instant. She lived only at the creature’s whim. Fortunately, he seemed happy to ignore her for now, if only because Monja would be happily chatting his ears off.

Te’oma peeked back into the observatory in time to see Kandler—off to the right—disappearing down the hole in the floor. To the left, Xalt dragged Sallah away from the angry dragon and toward the monstrous crystal that towered against the chamber’s wall.

The changeling didn’t see Esprë anywhere, nor Burch. She assumed the young elf was in the shifter’s capable hands, and she guessed that was where Kandler was headed too. For a moment, she considered following the justicar down the hole, to wherever it might lead, but she couldn’t bring herself to risk the dragon queen spotting her.

Te’oma cursed herself. Then she cursed the Lich Queen, Tan Du, Ibrido, Majeeda, and Nithkorrh to boot. She wanted to curse her long-dead daughter, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She cursed the girl’s father instead.

He’d been so slick and sweet, the kind of male that she’d dreamed about her whole life. For one, he’d been a changeling, which meant he knew what her life had been like. She hadn’t met too many of her own kind at that point, and few of them had been kind enough to spare her more than a few words, probably out of fear that their true identities might be exposed to those who lived around them.

Mondaro, though, he’d swept her into his arms and given her the first hint of love she’d ever tasted. For months, nothing could separate them. They’d taken the city of Sharn and made it their own, using their shapeshifting powers to sneak into the finest restaurants and stay in the best inns, all without ever spilling a copper from their pockets.

They’d even talked of marriage, of settling down and starting up legitimate careers, perhaps as actors in one of the local troupes. For the first time that Te’oma could remember, she’d felt happy.

Then she’d gotten pregnant.

The night she told Mondaro, he sat there in shock, unable to digest the news. The next morning when she awoke, she could not find him. She would never see him again.

Te’oma considered getting rid of the baby. She knew of an apothecary that would sell her the potion to make that happen, but she couldn’t bring herself to visit his shop. She carried her little girl to term and cradled her in her arms.

Every time she looked at her daughter, though, she couldn’t help but think of the girl’s father. This drove her deeper and deeper into despair, and soon she couldn’t bear the sight of her child’s blank, cherubic face. She left her with those she thought could care for her, then she left Sharn far behind.

Te’oma had never regretted anything in her life more than that.

That is, until she agreed to find the bearer of the Mark of Death.

More than anything else, now, Te’oma needed to make up for what she’d done to Esprë. The fact that it would put a thumb in the Lich Queen’s empty eye socket only added to the changeling’s determination. She saw no other way to redeem herself—in the judgment of both herself and her daughter, whom she felt watching over her from beyond.

She could not let the dragons have the girl.

Te’oma stepped into the observatory just as the dragon queen took a swipe at Sallah that almost put an end to the lady knight’s quest. The changeling forced herself to ignore the woman and the warforged who pulled her to temporary safety behind the massive crystal. The two had attacked the dragon as a diversion away from the girl, and Te’oma meant to take as much advantage of that as she could.

She slunk toward the hole and peered down into it. The silver dragon blasted Burch with its icy breath, then Esprë reached out and attacked Kandler with the powers granted by her dragonmark.

Te’oma stifled a gasp. She’d never dreamed that the girl would be pressed far enough into a corner to lash out at her stepfather.

“Go,” the dragon said to Esprë. “I will watch over them.”

Esprë knelt down next to Kandler and felt his neck for a pulse. Then she slumped over him, and Te’oma heard her muffled sobs.

“You do not have long,” Greffykor said. “I will watch over them. They will not interfere.”

“You must promise me you will keep them safe,” the girl said. As she spoke, she moved over and stroked Burch’s mane. The half-frozen shifter stopped shivering for a moment.

“That is Frekkainta’s choice, not mine. I will not harm them.”

Esprë stood up and wiped her face with her sleeves. “Then that will have to be enough.”

The girl walked over to the rope and began to climb. She ascended faster than Te’oma would have thought she could have managed, but the girl’s heart had to be pumping fast enough that she must have felt as if she were flying up the rope.

Te’oma admired the girl’s resolve. Despite everything that had happened to her, she had set herself on a course from which she refused to be swayed, and she would do anything—even attack Kandler—to make sure she achieved her goal.

Te’oma felt only the tiniest pang of regret that she would have to derail those plans.

As Esprë reached the top of the hole, the changeling reached down and offered her a hand up. Despite the fact that her arms had to feel like wet noodles at that point, the girl ignored Te’oma’s hand and pulled herself up to the floor above her.

“I should have known I’d find you here,” Esprë said. “Every time something horrible happens, you’re right by my side.”

“How kind of you to eliminate your protectors.” Te’oma smiled at the girl, showing her perfectly even rows of teeth. “Now you have no way to keep me from spiriting you away from here.”

Esprë groaned. “We’re not going to go through all that again, are we? I thought you’d given up on trying to kidnap me.”

Te’oma put on a pained look. “I think of this as saving you.”

“I don’t want to be saved. I’m through being saved.”

Te’oma smirked. “I don’t recall offering you a choice.”

“I’ve already made it.”

The changeling looked down and saw the black glow suffusing the young elf’s hands.