A Time of Darkness (The Circle of Talia) by Dionne Lister Read Free Book Online

to fill the high-ceilinged room, and Bronwyn felt like even the air had retreated in his presence. She gulped two desperate breaths. Sinjenasta spoke in her mind, Stop it, young cub. I won’t let anything happen to you . He turned from the king, and his luminous eyes met Bronwyn’s. She let go of the stone and grabbed the generous fur at the nape of his neck.
    King Valdorryn’s commanding voice drew their immediate attention. “I would like to introduce to you my wife, the light of Vellonia, Queen Jazmonilly.”
    In spite of herself, Bronwyn’s mouth fell open. Silver scales glimmered in the candlelight like the sun firing lustrous diamonds on the harbour on a brilliant day. No dress could be more beautiful, no scene more breathtaking, than this creature who possessed an elegance Bronwyn would have thought impossible for someone so large. Bronwyn curtseyed.
    The regal dragon flared her substantial nostrils and cast a stern eye on the young woman. After an uncomfortably long silence in which Bronwyn chewed the nails off four fingers, the queen spoke. “So, what have you to say for yourselves?”
    Sinjenasta spoke, and his words, to Bronwyn’s chagrin, were not chosen carefully. We are sorry if our actions have upset Your Majesty, but we did what needed to be done. I will take full blame, as the realmist was doing what she could to save her creatura. We all know instinct can be overwhelming at a time like that. I suggest you find it in your heart to forgive us, Queen Jazmonilly, for we acted in Talia’s best interest .
    Sinjenasta settled his furry bottom on the floor, calmly lifted a paw to his mouth and fastidiously licked in between the leathery pads.
    Small spikes on the back of the queen’s neck rose, punctuating her words with a dangerous energy. “You are not in a position to suggest anything. Why did you kill my nephew?”
    King Valdorryn rubbed his nose on Jazmonilly’s shimmering neck. “Please let it go, love. We can’t bring him back, and I know you have delved into their hearts and see no danger or malice there. If Drakon has let this happen in our own home, you know it was for a reason.”
    “What reason, my king? I see no good reason to kill my beautiful nephew. He was a good dragon. There are so few of us left, and the future appears grimmer by the day. Why did he have to die? Why? I want answers. Someone needs to be punished.” Her nostrils flared in and out, over and over. Danger filled the room, and Bronwyn feared Jazmonilly would incinerate her husband, closely followed by the murderers.
    “Enough!” A thundering voice resonated around them. Bronwyn jumped, but recognized the voice. “Jazmonilly, my daughter, you will not punish anyone. Is that clear?”
    The dragon queen, realizing Drakon had spoken, managed not to faint as she had last time he had made an appearance. When she replied, nose haughtily raised, Bronwyn couldn’t believe her courage. “So, you’re the culprit. Why did you kill my nephew? Aren’t there few enough of us as there is? What god kills his own creations?”
    “I have my reasons, none of which I care to explain. That is all.” As suddenly as he had appeared, he disappeared.
    Jazmonilly buried her head into Valdorryn’s neck. Bronwyn stared at the ground. The dragon queen’s sorrow was unexpected and something the realmist didn’t want to witness. This creature she had feared was as vulnerable as she in some ways. The mighty dragons, the fiercest beings on Talia, their allies in the coming war with the gormons, were not as invincible as she thought. Suddenly the gormon threat seemed more menacing.
    Bronwyn trusted in her aunt and The Circle. She knew the gormons were coming, but felt it was a matter of course—they would fight them, win, and go back to doing whatever it was they had done before the invasion. Realization of the danger had alighted, and it wasn’t a feather touch: it came with the weight of ten dragons, and Bronwyn knew, for the first time,