Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,118

of Night to destroy my city. Am I missing anything?"

The priest lowered his head and said nothing.

Ice flowed down Dies Irae's spine. He grabbed the priest's shoulders. "What else? Tell me. By the Sun God, speak."

The priest raised his eyes. Behind his mask, they were black, deep set, aching. "Your daughter, my lord. The lady Gloriae the Gilded. You... you must see her."

Dies Irae began marching through the city, leaving the priest behind. Nightshades howled around him, toppling buildings. The streets were deserted. Only stray cats and dogs, a few beggars, and some soldiers remained; they were fleeing the nightshades, scuttling from ruin to ruin. A nightshade swooped toward him, mouth of smoke opening, revealing white teeth. It shrieked, then seemed to recognize Dies Irae. It spun around and fled. Dies Irae allowed himself a small smile and kept walking.

He hadn't seen such ruin since Requiem's fall. Confutatis, the Marble City, was utterly destroyed. A few buildings remained standing, but nightshades swarmed over them. Bodies littered the roads, both of soldiers and civilians. They were not dead, but neither were they alive. Their hearts pulsed, and their lungs pumped air, but no souls filled the shells. Those souls, Dies Irae knew, now screamed in the realms of night.

Finally Dies Irae reached the palace grounds. The Palace Flammis still stood, though one of its towers and its western wall had collapsed. Bricks and dust covered the courtyards and gardens. Dies Irae stepped around the ruins, entered the main hall, and found bodies inside. Servants, lords, ladies, and soldiers all huddled on the floor, lips mumbling, eyes blinking, but no other life filled them.

Dies Irae walked through this devastation until he reached the throne room. His daughter would be there, he knew. She would have sat upon the throne while he lay wounded. Only one who sat upon Osanna's Ivory Throne could free the nightshades.

Dies Irae pushed open the oak doors and stepped into his throne room.

He was a strong man. He prided himself on his strength. But now, a cry fled his lips.

A hundred nightshades filled the throne room. They swirled above the Ivory Throne, a cocoon of blackness and smoke. Gloriae hovered within them, her eyes closed, a butterfly inside that cocoon of night. She was nude, her body white. Her golden hair flowed around her, as if she floated underwater.

Dies Irae snarled and marched forward. He reached into the cocoon of nightshades, grabbed Gloriae's foot, and pulled her down. The nightshades resisted, tugging her, but Dies Irae kept pulling until she fell into his arms.

"Mother," the girl whispered. She was nineteen, but she seemed so young now, a child. "Mother, may our wings find the sky."

The nightshades howled, eyes blazing. The room shook. Cracks ran along the walls. One nightshade lunged at him, and Dies Irae felt his soul being tugged from his body. Ignoring the feeling, he placed Gloriae on the floor, walked to his throne, and sat upon it.

The nightshades shrieked. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, one narrowly missing Gloriae. Dies Irae shut his eyes, clenched his good fist, and tightened his lips. He could feel the nightshades now. The throne gave him power to tame them, the way the Griffin Heart had allowed him to tame the griffins.

Dies Irae had never tried to tame nightshades. Nobody had in two thousand years. They were more powerful than griffins; he felt that at once. Their minds were like furnaces, their hatred exploding stars.

Dies Irae growled. "I am the true ruler of Osanna!" he called out. The throne rattled. "You have claimed my daughter. You will obey me."

They fought him.

They fought him well.

Thousands of them shrieked across the empire, coiled in the night sky, and sent their fire and hatred into him. They tugged at his soul, threatening to rip it into a million pieces.

Dies Irae refused them.

They lifted his throne. They flowed around him. They hurt him. They lifted Gloriae and tossed her against the floor, again and again.

Dies Irae refused to release them. "The old kings bound you to this throne. You still owe it your fealty, beasts of unlight. You will obey me."

With a shriek that shook the city, the throne room shattered. A wall came down. Through the nightshades' eyes, Dies Irae saw the north tower of his palace falling.

Still he clung to them.

He wrestled them into darkness, until they bowed before him, a sea of smoke and shadows.

Dies Irae rose to his feet. His eye no longer hurt, and when he raised