Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(93)
Hadn’t I been asking myself over and over why the Luminary Council would allow our dragons to be sent away? And our noorestones—ones we could use to protect ourselves? “You think the governments themselves are sending the dragons?”
“It’s a payment,” Altan went on. “We don’t want them to attack us, so we’ve silently surrendered. Even with seven islands, we cannot defend against her. The Algotti Army is endless, growing with every country the empress devours. Her hunger is insatiable.”
“We couldn’t fight her off?” Wasn’t that what the Khulani warriors were for? They’d taken oaths to defend the Fallen Isles, even when we fought one another. They were supposed to defend against outside invasions.
“Our advantage has always been the dragons. But with the population dwindling, we don’t stand a chance.”
“That’s why the Mira Treaty specifies that even warriors cannot ride dragons anymore?”
He bowed his head. “To prevent us from taking up arms against the empire, because even a few Drakon Warriors could cause severe damage. We could cost the empire lives and money and time.” He stopped pacing and frowned. “But it would be mitigative efforts. They would win, eventually. So we—the Fallen Isles—surrendered. We quietly gave ourselves to them, and now we pay them to keep out of our business. For a time, at least. As I said, assimilation is inevitable.”
It sounded too wild to be true, but I couldn’t think of a better reason why the Luminary Council would send dragons and noorestones to the mainland. “Who knows about this?”
Did Mother and Father know? Father was the architect of the Mira Treaty. Thinking he might have done something like this intentionally, knowingly betraying his own people . . .
“Your government. Mine. All of them.” Altan frowned. “I’m not sure how many within each government, but certainly everyone who signed the Mira Treaty had to know what it was.”
It seemed so farfetched. But the Luminary Council had betrayed me. The Twilight Council had betrayed Chenda. Why should I expect anything but underhanded awfulness from those entrusted with our safety?
“But why the secrecy? Why not just explain that the empire will destroy us if—”
“Can you imagine the riots? The revolts? We’d destroy ourselves. No, we have enough trouble growing accustomed to Hartans being equal with the rest of us.”
Some people would contest that Hartans were truly equal.
“Think of the outcry if the truth about the Mira Treaty came out.” He shook his head and sat down across from me once more. “No, the people of the Fallen Isles must not know.”
Why? Maybe they deserved to be outraged.
He touched the crossed maces on his jacket. “I took holy vows to protect the Fallen Isles. I mean to uphold those vows, even if it destroys me.” The danger crept back into his tone. “Now, I want to discuss what alternate routes your Luminary Council might have used for shipping the dragons.”
This again. I’d hoped he’d forgotten. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”
A look between disappointment and annoyance crossed his face. “Given your devotion to dragons, I thought you would be more willing.”
Did he? After leaving me alone in the dark for days? After torturing Aaru? After endangering my friends as insurance for my cooperation?
He couldn’t be more wrong.
“Mira.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “Your friends don’t have much time.”
My heart lurched.
“You know I can be cruel,” he said. “But I can be kind if you earn it. I can reward you.”
My voice was trapped in my throat, useless.
“I’d like for you to take care of our dragons. The juveniles, and soon the adults, when they are retrieved. Doesn’t that sound better than cleaning for Sarannai?”
I’d never wanted to be the face of the Luminary Council. For me, happiness had always been one dragon moment to another. It had been my time with LaLa, and my studies in the sanctuary.
“Let me make it easy,” Altan said softly. “Tell me the alternate routes they’d use, or”—he glanced toward the back of the room—“tell me this secret about noorestones. The secret you almost let your friend die for.”
The second shipment. The weapon that could level a city.
I didn’t know the alternate routes, and I could not give him information he could use to hurt people. I’d always thought Drakon Warriors must be the most honorable and fierce of warriors. And maybe they had been. Once. But Altan was not the kind of man I’d envisioned being a Drakon Warrior. If he was the one they’d sent to get information from me, I knew I could not trust anyone who wore the claw badge.
“I know you love dragons,” he said. “In that, we are the same.”
“No.” I lifted my chin and met his eyes. “You cannot buy me. I’ve spent my whole life being the Luminary Council’s puppet. I will not be yours.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ALTAN SEEMED MORE TAKEN ABACK THAN ANGRY.
I pushed myself to my feet; the chair clattered to the floor behind me. “I will not help those who harm my friends, or seek to use me, or speak pretty words only when it suits them.” My whole body tensed. These were statements I could never take back, and Altan would never forget. “Nor will I help those who harm others to further their cause. You call yourself a protector of the Fallen Isles. You call yourself a Drakon Warrior, but you are neither. You would tear apart the islands if you thought it was the only way to save everyone from the Algotti Empire, but you’re wrong.”