All The Skills

Two days later

“I suppose we have to get this over with.” Arthur sighed. “The seers just reported in. We’ll have another eruption either late tonight or tomorrow at the latest.”

There were nods and grim looks all around the room.

He looked around at Horatio, Cressida, Desmond, Sybil, and Marion and his little dragon. No one looked happy about this, but they didn’t put up an argument either.

Well, he didn’t expect any argument from Desmond and Sybil. The two Legendary leaders—who were a married couple, as it turned out—were so timid they were almost subservient. A result of being ruled by Chester for decades. They defaulted to him for everything. Arthur wasn’t sure they even knew how to stand up for themselves anymore.

He and Brixaby had been extremely lucky that their dragons still had a bit of life left in them and managed a half-hearted rebellion at the right moment. It was the biggest reason why he and Brixaby kept them around.

Well, that and the authority that they left his own leadership.

Brixaby said it wasn’t even fun to threaten blue Lachlan and green . . . Bunny. They just shrank back and agreed or apologized.

Arthur was going to have to do something about the names of the dragons in this hive. Make that line-item number 672 on his list.

It might be the shock, but two days in and Arthur was still playing this whole “leading the entire hive” thing by ear. If he had taken a second to realize that supplanting Chester would mean he would be in charge . . . he might have actually tried asking nicely for the card first.

At least he had Brixaby and his friends to help him.

And right now, he had an overdue meeting with the king. He looked at Horatio. “You’re in charge until I get back. Try not to let the hive burn down.”

Horatio grinned and gave him a salute. “Be quick,” he shot back. “As soon as the other Rares learn you put me in charge, Sams will have to slap down some rebellious dragons.”

“Try not to let him have too much fun doing it,” Arthur said dryly.

In truth, he wasn’t too concerned about that. The reshuffling of leadership and revelation that he and Brixaby were not only Legendary but the dark card stealers whose stories had been going around the hive like a scary children’s tale had shaken the Rares’ confidence.

Someone might try to unseat Horatio in the few hours that Arthur was gone. That was, if they could get past Sams, who was a much wilier fighter than any yellow should be.

But Arthur would return, and then all their cards would go down Brixaby’s gullet.

“You’ll be fine,” Arthur said with confidence. Then he nodded to Brixaby, who quickly cast the dark rower’s portal.

“Where to?” the rower rasped once they were inside.

“Antechamber in front of the king’s palace,” Brixaby said.

The rower gestured to the boat. “You always go the most interesting places.”

Brixaby went first, and he seemed pleased that the rowboat was now so much bigger to accommodate him.

Arthur was still getting used to his dragon’s new size. He was nowhere as large as a typical Legendary. He wasn’t even as big as Sams. But for the first time, he was actually larger than Joy, if only by a little.

For the past two days, Brixaby had been exuding the absolute aura of smugness, and Arthur caught him flexing his larger wings and meatier limbs around Joy . . . who seemed very, very happy for her friend.

I have got to figure out what a Rare and Legendary clutch would look like. It will be a big deal if the hive can expect more Legendaries.

Make that number 673 on his list.

And then there was the fact he still hadn’t confessed his feelings for Cressida. 674.

There were just so many things to do in the day, and not nearly enough time to do them, even from someone who had access to a timeless Personal Space. And a time-warping card.

Cressida nudged his shoulder as they took a seat on the rowboat. “You’re brooding again.”

He startled and sent her a sheepish smile. “Suppose I am. There’s just a lot to do back in the hive. I only just got started with Wing Purple. Now I’m in charge of all of Blood Moon.”

“Well,” she said, “Griff seems to be happy as the wing captain. That’s one thing off your plate.”

Arthur chuckled. “He says that he’ll be going back to second-in-command the moment a new purple Rare hatches.”

She leaned in conspiratorially. “Then let’s hope that Joy and Brixaby’s clutch is successful, right?”

He stared at her. “They haven’t . . .”

“No! Not yet. But one day she’ll be laying eggs. And if I know my dragon, Brixaby will be the sire.”

Arthur grinned as the rower cast off the pier and started down the river.

The boat ride was exceptionally long—longer even than it had taken to get from New Houston to Blood Moon Hive all the way across the world.

“Is something wrong?” Arthur asked at last.

“There are many protections around the palace,” the rower replied. “We are simply traveling through the magical blocks.”

Arthur sent a look at Brixaby. “I can’t believe you picked out this card.”

If anything, Brixaby’s smugness only grew.

Finally, however, they arrived. Arthur paused just before walking through the other side of the portal.

He fully expected to be met by angry, bristling guards. After all, they hadn’t exactly announced this visit ahead of time and had apparently just sailed through existing protections.

There were guards in the large marble antechamber, but they stood in rows on either side of the portal. Lined up, alert, but with their weapons at their side. Nobody seemed surprised.

And standing in front of them, dressed in the palace livery, was a man that Arthur recognized. He was the one who sensed lies.

“Ah,” he said, and gave Arthur a bob of a bow. “We have been expecting you.”

“Have you?” Arthur murmured, but he stepped aside as everyone came out of the portal. Last of all was Brixaby, who strode out as if he owned the place.

He took a long look around. “I remember this room being much larger.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. He was not going to take the bait.

Apparently, someone would, though. “This room has not shrunken. You have grown significantly,” said a ghostly voice.

The outline of Lung Bai, the king’s Mythic dragon, appeared within the room. She was coiled around and around the parameter in her usual snaky form.

To the side, Marion gasped and quickly bowed. Arthur thought it might be a good idea to copy him.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Yes, I have grown magnificently since we last met, have I not?” Brixaby said, fluttering his wings a little.

Lung Bai let out a draconic huff of a laugh and turned to Arthur. “So, you have returned to Blood Moon Hive. Not the first guess I had for you. I would have thought that you would have chosen Wolf Moon, in order to dispose of Whitaker.”

“I didn’t mean to . . . dispose of Chester,” he said awkwardly. “It just sort of happened.”

“Yes, but in doing so, you have advanced yourself.” Lung Bai did not sound at all unhappy, and Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

“Let me introduce you to my companions,” he said. “This is Desmond and Sybil, the other two leaders from the hive. They have come to verify my story. Cressida, my—” He stalled out for a moment, “Trusted friend.”

She gave him an amused look.

He hurried forward, “And Marion and Asha, who are here to see the king.”

“The former prince and healer.” Lung Bai nodded to them. “You are most welcome.”

Brixaby, growing bored of the introductions, asked, “Were you aware of what Blood Drop and his rider were doing?”

“Yes,” she replied. “They were ruling their hive through fear. It was not, perhaps, the best way, but we figured there were those around to temper his appetites.” The ghostly outline of Lung Bai sent a severe look to Desmond and Sybil, who both shrank back and subtly stepped behind Arthur, using him as a shield.

You are Legendaries, have some dignity, Arthur thought in an internal voice that sounded very much like Brixaby.

But Lung Bai was not done. “Now, if my nose is telling me right, it seems that you have Chester’s card. Do you have the same appetite, young purple?”

“I always have an appetite for cards,” Brixaby said.

Arthur quickly stepped in to answer the actual question. “No, he doesn’t. Even powerful cards can have a downside, and Chester leaned into this one. But his new card, Call of Life, is meant to be used in conjunction with others. They provide balance for this card.”

“We’ll see,” she commented. Then her attention turned to Marion and little Asha, who trembled under the Mythic’s gaze. “You have grown as well, origin of healing.”

“Begging your pardon,” Marion said, “but what does that mean, exactly? Origin?”

“That, with proper care and attention, she will be very powerful. I would like to see you as a Legendary pair someday.”

Asha straightened, and the others looked startled.

Meanwhile, Cressida took Arthur’s hand and squeezed it. When he looked over, she gave him a significant look that he read immediately.

He nodded and addressed Lung Bai. “I don’t mean to be rude, but the seers have predicted another eruption soon—”

“And now you are a leader,” she said.

He swallowed, but he refused to let his nerves, his self-doubt, speak for him. “Yes.”

Lung Bai moved quicker than Arthur could see. One moment she was coiled around and around the room, the next, the ghostly outline of her head was in front of Arthur, and he was looking into colorless eyes.

“The other hive leaders will not like that,” she observed.

“They’re welcome to challenge us if they want,” Arthur replied mildly. “Brixaby has been looking forward to it.”

Lung Bai laughed, and that laugh seemed to echo through Arthur’s heart. “Then come, let me see what your healers can do for my poor Elizar. He is having a bad . . . month.”

A golden-gilded set of double doors opened on her command. The guards and the living lie detector stayed behind while the rest made their way down the hall, with Lung Bai escorting them. She had either shrunk herself, or perhaps had just become more snakelike to fit through the halls. It was hard to tell because the outlines of her body were indistinct and difficult to see.

The hallways were, of course, large enough to allow for a dragon even larger than Brixaby—and that was going to take some getting used to. So she had no problem walking side by side with Arthur.

He glanced over and decided to risk a question. “How goes the fight with the Mythic scourglings?”

“Poorly. You can see that eruptions are happening more frequently,” she said with an edge to her voice. “I am pleased to see that you have stepped into your role as leaders of a hive, but I do not wish for this to tempt you off your path. We need another Mythic.”

Cressida frowned at that. “Then why don’t you just collect the cards that they need?”

“No, she can’t,” Arthur said. “They’re Legendaries, not Commons. I don’t . . .” He paused, realizing what he was going to say, but then just went with it. It was a slow realization he had come to as he had come to know his Master of Cards. “I don’t think a set of cards that powerful will approve if they’re just given to somebody.”

Cressida gave him a surprised look. “You act like they’re alive.”

“I don’t think they’re alive, but there’s definitely an awareness.”

“I believe that depends on the definition of alive,” Lung Bai mused.

But no more could be said because they had reached a second, opulent chamber. With the king’s dragon escorting, no one dared bar their way.

Inside was a lush bedroom dominated by a bed large enough to sleep at least five people. A young man with stringy blonde hair sat up against the headboard, still dressed in nightclothes.

Like Chester, King Elizar’s apparent youth was based on card powers. But while his body was young, apparently his mind had not remained the same. Arthur wondered if he had fallen into a similar trap as Chester that way, too.

He had been going through the records and spoken to Desmond and Sybil—at least what they were willing to say for fear of offending Arthur. Chester was the oldest of the Legendaries. So old, in fact, that nobody remembered when he and his dragon had hatched. He’d once been a red with fine pyrotechnic powers.

Maintaining that youth had come at a cost.

One of the first things Arthur and Brixaby had done was to find the hive’s card library. The shelves were empty.

How many cards had gone down Chester and Blood Drop’s gullet? And how much power did it take to keep the king youthful like this? Was it simply the awesome power of a Mythic that for some reason couldn’t cover absolutely everything, or was the king sucking the kingdom dry in the same way with his own version of the blood price?

Six hundred seventy-eight on the list, he thought with a sigh.

The king had not seemed to notice their entrance. He was busy looking down at his twitching fingers and mumbling to himself. He didn’t even seem to recognize Lung Bai.

The Mythic dragon went forward into the room. Arthur followed, and Marion and Asha were next. Perhaps only the healers and his dragon should have been in there, but Arthur refused to leave one of his people alone with the unpredictable king.

Everyone else waited in the hallway.

Marion glanced to the Mythic dragon for permission, and when she nodded, he and Asha made their way over to the king’s side. There was a tray set up on one side of the table filled with several concoctions in colored bottles. Marion picked up one and read the label. “What are these?”

“To keep him calm,” Lung Bai said.

With a nod, Marion set the bottle down and began casting his spells. Meanwhile, his silver hatchling looked at the king with compassion in her eyes.

Marion stayed coolly professional with no expression on his face, and Arthur wondered what he thought about all this. This wasn’t just any patient, not any king. Elizar was his father.

Asha must have received the results for the healing spells because she was the one who trotted back to Lung Bai.

“Everything that we can do for him will be temporary.”

“It will last a year at most,” Marion added. “Then we will have to reapply the spell, but it will become less effective each time. There is buildup in his brain.”

“What is this buildup?” Lung Bai asked.

“Age,” Asha said. “Humans are not meant to live forever.”

Lung Bai’s body flashed fully into existence before falling once again into outlines. “Would you say the same for your rider? That he is simply too old to keep living?”

Asha flinched and then bent her head. “I understand.” And she looked up again with such compassion in her eyes that Lung Bai settled down immediately.

“I’m only telling you the limits of what we can do,” Asha finished.

“He is a great man,” Lung Bai said with absolute loyalty, “and if—” She paused, then the tip of her tail shut the door to the corridor with a slam. Arthur, Marion, and Asha were the only ones to hear the rest of her words. “If he is of right mind, the eruptions will slow. They may even normalize again.”

“Wait, you have control over that?” Arthur asked.

“I can control whether you use your powers or not,” she said. “You think that our strength combined cannot exert some additional control over what goes on in our kingdom?”

Well, that shut down Arthur’s next question, which was if they had that much say over the eruptions, why hadn’t they done anything?

Maybe it had to do with their shared card or cards, but either way, Elizar couldn’t, and Lung Bai could not bear to let her rider go and harvest his cards.

Asha put one paw over the Mythic dragon’s ghostly claw.

“I’m sorry,” she said with deep empathy.

Arthur looked away, his lips pressed into a line. He wasn’t nearly so forgiving. He hoped Brixaby, at least, would have the good sense to do what needed to be done if it meant the safety of the kingdom.

He was a leader now, and he was coming to understand that there were sacrifices to be made.

But if he had a chance to slow down the rate of eruptions, even for just a year . . . that would buy Brixaby and him some time to get to the rest of the cards in their set.

“Marion, do what you can,” he told him.

Marion nodded and gestured for Asha to stand by him. Together, they cast their various healing cards. Arthur wasn’t entirely certain what they could do that the palace healers could not, but Lung Bai seemed to think that they had greater power. Maybe it had to do with Asha being an Origin dragon.

The origin of healing, he reminded himself. That sounded . . . powerful.

A green-blue light washed over the king, and he stopped mumbling to himself, letting his hands fall loosely into his lap.

He blinked, and as the light receded, he looked around. His gaze fell on his son. “Marion? What are you doing here?”

Marion took in a sharp breath—clearly surprised that the man recognized him.

The king looked on before he could answer.

“Lung Bai? Why is this man in my room? Who are you?” he said, this time to Arthur. He didn’t recognize him. That . . . wasn’t a complete surprise considering the king’s state of mind last time. Arthur was still relieved.

“This is Arthur Rowantree, the newest leader of Blood Moon Hive,” Lung Bai said. “How are you feeling, Elizar?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You have been . . . ill for quite some time.” She rustled her wings, and Arthur got the impression she was suppressing deep emotional pain by clinging to formality. “Your son has healed you.”

“Yes, I see that. With a Rare power at that.” He eyed Marion for a moment then looked again at Arthur. “Leader of Blood Moon? You seem a little young for it.”

Arthur bit down a laugh at the bare-faced hypocrisy. “I’m new to the position.”

“And he comes to us with news of our kingdom,” Lung Bai replied. “I have decreed that he speaks for the hives.”

That was new, but Arthur could play along.

He stepped up to the bed. Marion backed away, and Arthur took his place.

“Sir, let me tell you what’s going on in our kingdom, the current rate of eruptions, and how we need your help . . .”