“It was that which drove them farther from it,” Nadir said. “The High Council knows the ancient magic protecting our city will keep Merglan at bay, even if his kurr tear our nation apart. They want to start the draft for riders once more, forcing elves and non-bonded dragons to the task.”

“Won’t that weaken their magic?” Maija asked.

“Yes, it will,” Nadir said. “That’s why we haven’t had a pairing system since the last war; the manufactured bonds will not hold against Merglan’s power, but the Council thinks that with enough of them, we’ll be able to outlast his storm. Whether they seek to stop him or wait out his reign by hiding in the capital until his eventual downfall, I can’t say. If they force dragons to bond, their magic will indeed be weaker than if the bonding were to happen naturally like yours, Anders. Ivan was lucky in that his bonding wasn’t forced. Yet even those who came out of that order of riders were slain by Merglan.”

“So, we’ll just rally the dragons to leave with us,” Anders said. “Zahara and Raffa will make them see and they’ll flee the city with us.”

“Cedarbidge is under lockdown. No one in or out. I’m surprised you four got in at all,” Nadir said.

“We came in through the riders’ entrance,” Anders said.

Nadir nodded, “I’d venture to guess that they’re sealing that access as well, now that they’ve seen you were able to enter. I only got in because the powers sealing the place knew me as King. Now that the Council has suspended my rights, I won’t have the authority on the city’s magic that a king should have, which is why we need to get down to the prison cells before they change that magic as well.”

“You mean we’re going down there again?” Anders said, pointing to the trap door in the corner of the foyer.

Nadir nodded, “That’s where we’ll get the answers we need about this,” tapping the diagram in his hand. “Now come on, we haven’t much time.”

Chapter 62

Soldiers at the Door

“Thomas,” Kirsten said, shaking her brother with her foot.

Rolling onto his side and groaning, Thomas said, “I’ll be right there.”

Kirsten scooted to the edge of the couch, extending her leg out to where Thomas lay on the floor. This time she jabbed him decisively in the ribs with her toe, “Thomas, get up!”

“Hey,” Thomas said as he swept his elbow back, knocking Kirsten’s foot away.

Kirsten met her brother’s sleepy gaze with pointed intensity, “Thomas, I think there’s someone outside.”

Sitting up, Thomas yawned. Rubbing his eyes, he said, “It’s probably Britt and Max.”

“No,” she warned in a hushed voice. “I can hear them talking.” She slid off the couch and onto the floor, sitting next to her brother. “Listen,” she hissed. Her eyes widened as the voices became more audible. The men seemed to be standing just outside the unusual treehouse. She watched her brother’s expression change from sleepy and apathetic to ridged and alert.

“That’s not Britt and Max,” Thomas whispered.

Looking around the small living room, Kirsten asked, “Where’s Bo?”

Following her search, Thomas shrugged.

Kirsten moved into a squat, her legs trembling uncontrollably, the room appeared to be moving and her head swam in a feverish daze. Rotten goblins, she cursed as she shuffled in a crouch toward the window, keeping one hand on the ground to maintain her balance. As she stopped under the living room window, she felt the morning sun warming her cheeks; it brought clarity to her mind. She rested for a moment, soaking up the sun’s rays and feeling some strength return to her body. The strangers’ voices sounded as though they were coming from behind the kitchen, an area she couldn’t see from the living room window.

“Who are they?” Thomas asked as he stood, the blanket around him falling to the floor in a heap.

Pulling herself up to her full height using the windowsill, Kirsten again paused for a moment to find her balance on her weakened legs. After peering out through the glass, she turned to Thomas and shrugged, “I can’t see them from here.”

Leaning against the wall, Kirsten watched her brother walk lightly toward the kitchen. Along the edge of the windowpane, Kirsten could see the tree house’s outer bark as it wrapped around to the kitchen wall before it rounding out of sight. Once Thomas disappeared into the kitchen, she focused on the tree’s profile, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was out there.

After a moment, her curiosity won out, so she set out carefully from the window toward the kitchen. Placing each step with care, Kirsten moved slowly to avoid losing her balance. Her head swam from the lingering effects of the goblin’s venom and she reached out to grip the table. Ever since she had awakened, her mind had remained foggy; it made her feel nauseous. Grasping the wooden surface seemed to allow her to ground her spinning mind to the fixed object. As she used her left hand to bear some of her body weight, she looked down at the table covered with books and unfolded maps. Her eyes slowly moved to her veins, raised and running like rivers of red through her arm. Her memories of the goblin attack and the pain that followed seeped back into her consciousness. She closed her eyes to concentrate on forcing them out. As she tried to calm her nerves, she glanced up to see Thomas drop down out of view of the kitchen window.

Seeing his sudden reaction, she frowned.

He explained in a whisper, “Soldiers.”

“Whose?” Kirsten asked.

Thomas shrugged, “Don’t know.”

He rose slightly, hunching at the window to chance a look through the bottom of the glass, then quickly dropped out of sight for a second time.

Kirsten waited for an explanation.

Thomas moved toward her, crab-walking across the squeaky boards that lined the kitchen floor. “Those men out there are wearing the same armor as the soldiers who attacked Grandwood.”

“Are you sure?” Kirsten asked. He nodded his response to which she added, “What are they doing here?”

“I don’t know, but we’d better stay out of sight,” Thomas said.

“Where’s Bo?” she asked again, looking around the small home and not seeing any sign of him.

The men’s voices grew louder. Kirsten could hear their metal armor clatter as they moved away from the kitchen. “They’re walking to the front,” she said.

“Do you think they’ll come in?” Thomas asked.

Kirsten pointed to the small door that led down to the root cellar, “Down there, hurry.”

Kirsten lagged behind Thomas as he quickly moved to the door and held it open. She crouched, but the sudden change in body position made her dizzy and caused her to falter. She felt Thomas’ hand steady her as she stepped into the stairwell. Kirsten forced her legs to step far enough down the stairs to allow Thomas entry into the small space, and then she sat down. In a vanishing gap, the light from outside the cellar door disappeared as Thomas closed it behind them. The sudden darkness soothed her mind and she felt better until she heard the heavy footfalls at the front door and then the creaking of the door as it opened.