his tail hung limp and bloody. He turned sideways, revealing Roric on his back, hunched over and clutching his arm. “Where’s Falka?” Roric barked, voice harder than Tauran had ever heard it.
“Gone,” Tauran replied. His hand lingered on the door before he let it drop open. “Roric, come inside.”
“What do you mean gone?” Roric’s eyes were wide, a mix of fear and anger shining in them. “Dead?”
“No. I don’t know. He left.”
“I have to find him.” Valeron turned.
“Roric!” Tauran stepped forward, away from the doors. “Don’t be stupid! Valeron will choke out there and you might, too!”
“So, what?” Roric spun toward him in the saddle with such force it would have dislodged him if not for the harness clasp. “Am I meant to just abandon him like you did?”
Tauran closed his eyes and took a breath. Every moment they spent arguing was a moment wasted. “I didn’t abandon him. He’s losing his grasp on right and wrong, Roric. You’ve got to see that.”
“His cause is noble. It’s always been noble.” Roric made a choked sound and turned his eyes to the sky. When he looked back at Tauran, they shone with tears. “His methods might seem harsh, but he works so hard to do right by all of us. He’s not as horrible as you think!”
“So you don’t think it’s wrong to strap down baby dragons stolen from their mothers? You told me the eggs were abandoned, that was a lie!”
“You weren’t ready to know the truth, Tau. I was going to tell you!”
“So you knew all along? You don’t think it’s—” Tauran groaned. A fight was useless.
“The harnesses were temporary, for skies sake!” Roric ran a shaking hand through his hair. The tears fell, dragging paths through the dust on his face. “I don’t know…”
“Just come inside.” Tauran reached out. Valeron stretched his neck toward him, jaws parted to draw in shallow breaths, but Roric yanked him back.
“I can’t. Not after what I’ve done. They’ll hang me. Emilian’ll hang me.”
Despite it all, Tauran’s throat tightened. “We’ll sort it out. You won’t have to hang. At least do it for Valeron. He doesn’t deserve this.”
Roric’s face twisted. He ran a hand over his mouth. “Fuck, Tau. You were my best friend. How did things get this fucked up?”
“Roric—”
Tauran didn’t get the chance to finish. Roric spun Valeron and urged him harshly up and away. Valeron spread his wings and kicked off the ground, his form vanishing into the cloud of ashes before the sound of his wings faded.
“Roric!” Tauran shouted, but only his own voice shouted back. “Fuck!”
Tauran stepped into the darkness of the cellar. Letting the doors fall shut behind him felt far more final, more damning, than it should have. He descended the stairs, skin prickling at the countless eyes turning to him. He approached a guard to ask for Kalai, but before he could speak, a hand on his shoulder made him turn.
Emilian’s haunted expression met him. “Did you see Roric?” The hopefulness in his eyes, in his voice, was almost too much to bear. Even after everything Roric had done, even after he had commanded Emilian’s death, Emilian still cared about his little brother.
The truth stuck in Tauran’s throat, and he swallowed it again. He would tell him later, when both their hearts weren’t so raw and exposed. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER 49
“If Kalai is right about the toxic fumes clearing within a couple days, we should be all right. The cellar is stocked, there’s plenty of food for the young dragons. We’ve got a water reserve. We have little for the soldiers to eat, aside from what they grabbed before evacuating, but I’m thinking a day and a half isn’t an unreasonable amount of time to go without food.” Catria walked beside Tauran through the semi-darkness of the meat cellar. Gas lights on the walls and ceiling kept the cellar lit enough to work in. The ice keeping the meat cold was halfway melted from the presence of so many people and dragons, but breath still misted in front of Catria’s face when she spoke. “If we have to, we can send a runner to fetch more food from the storage buildings.”
“We won’t run out of air, will we?” Tauran asked.
Catria shook her head. “The cellar’s plenty large. It might get hot in here, though. The dragons are used to it. Suppose we’ll just have to dress down. Oh, and the butcher’s room has been turned into a makeshift latrine. The floor grate is