Brood of Vipers Maggie Claire (mobi reader .TXT) 📖

single tear slips down his cheek. Clearing his throat in an effort to regain control of his feelings, Cyrus announces, “I’ll show the place to Suryc through our mental link. He’ll pass the directions on to the rest of the Ddraigs.”

“Thank you.” I choke on the words, barely noticing when Cyrus walks away from me.

Leaning heavily on the stone wall, I slide down its rough surface, uncaring if it tears my shirt or scratches my back. Curling into a ball, I wrap my arms around my knees as if this position can somehow keep me from falling apart. Leaning my head back against the stones, I let the tears building in my eyes fall freely, and I wonder if I’ll ever see a day when I don’t feel like the world is out to break me.

Chapter 10

I wish I’d told Lynx to run. I should have gotten her to the stables, hitched up a horse, and sent her and her son to the Pith. It all just happened so fast, and I didn’t think. So careless! Wren curses himself as he sits on the porch, waiting for Wolf to return from his attempt to spy on Jackal in his tent. Everything should work out fine, but I wish I’d taken the extra precaution just to be safe. If Wolf tries to attack that baby…. Wren shudders, struggling to still his nervously tapping feet.

Wolf stomps through the sand, tugging a long chain behind him. Jackal, Hyena, Coyote, and a few other faces Wren doesn’t yet recognize are manacled together, each one shouting and pleading their innocence. “Be silent, traitors!” Wolf demands, snapping the end of the chain back like a whip, uncaring which of the prisoners he hits.

Wren breathes a sigh of relief, raising his chin a little higher to portray confidence. “I take it they were plotting after all?”

“It seems you were right,” Wolf answers begrudgingly, wrapping the chain around the porch railing and locking it in place.

“It’s him!” Jackal accuses, snarling and spitting at Wren’s feet. “He’s the traitor, Wolf! No doubt he’s set us up!”

“Really?” Wren leans back on the porch steps, forcing himself to smile and laugh as though he’s just heard a hilarious joke. “Why would I—?”

“Because you’re still loyal to the House of Vultures! You’re a spy for Condor and Mynah!” Jackal shouts, the others offering their words of agreement.

“Why? Because I still wear this old mask?” Wren scoffs, shrugging his shoulders to emphasize his indifference. “Would you rather I try on one of yours and wear it instead?”

The implied threat of killing one of the prisoners is enough to silence them all. Jackal throws murderous glances in Wren’s direction, but no other accusations are made.

“Well, it seems I’m in a difficult position.” Wolf slumps into his rocking chair once more. “But I made a deal with you, Wren. You’ve gained my trust, and I guess these men will be added fodder for my funeral pyre.”

“You could do that,” Wren agrees, smiling at the way each man’s throat bobs, gulping down air as they face their death sentences. “Or, you could imprison them. Let me see if I can get any information about their plans and rout out any other traitors in our midst. Then, when your friend from Déchets returns, sell them off into slavery as you did with all the others.”

“Developing a squeamish stomach?” Wolf wonders, turning a suspicious eye on Wren. “Or are you feeling guilty because they are innocent after all?”

“Neither,” Wren lies, pretending to pick at his nails. “I just thought you could turn a profit by selling them. It seems wasteful to just kill them; you gain nothing in return.”

“Fair enough,” Wolf agrees, standing up from the rocking chair and trudging toward the door. “We’ll follow your plan for now. See if they have anything useful to tell you, then lock them up in the barn. I’ll send a message to Matthais that we have six more slaves for our Déchets’ king.”

***

“I don’t know if I should be proud or furious,” Siri grumbles as she plods up to my side. She stops right in front of me, lowering her head until her silvery eyes are on the same level as mine.

“Please don’t lecture me,” I whine, burying my tear-stained face in my hands. “I really can’t handle it right now.”

“Too bad,” Siri huffs, smoke whirling around me until I fear I’ll choke. “But I’ll wait until we get into the sky.” The other Ddraigs don’t need to hear us fighting.

“The nomads are ready to fly,” Drake interrupts, stalking up to my side with a tight smile. “They wait to move on your command.” I can hear how much he hates admitting the role of leadership belongs to me.

“Enomena, you and Lerual fly at the front. Keep sharp eyes on the ground for any signs of trouble. Drake, you lead the nomads out next. Cyrus and I will move last.” I lay out the plan, stroking Lerual’s chartreuse scales, smiling to myself as a deep hum of approval rumbles through her throat.

“What about us? Can’t we help you?” Goldeneye asks, Grouse nodding her head emphatically.

“I’ve been flying with Lerual since she has no Cadogan,” Grouse explains, looking hopefully into Lerual’s vibrant yellow eyes.

“If she doesn’t mind, then I’m fine with you riding along with her,” I concede, chuckling as Grouse squeals in delight and races to stand beside Lerual, jerking Goldeneye along behind her.

“I’ll stay with Drake,” Bittern offers, and I notice Nepsa leaning heavily against Ekard’s crimson scales. “I think my Ddraig has taking a shine to that red one.”

Oh no. I struggle to keep my face expressionless as I imagine Bittern’s tantrum when the Ddraigs tell her about the coupling bonds. She will take the news even worse than I did.

She already is partial to Drake’s company; I don’t think it will be as bad as you think, Siri interjects, her eyes following Ekard. At least the budding romance is distracting that red lizard long enough to keep