“I am Sarkin Dirak’zar,” he told me, his voice gentle like how I imagined a lover’s might be. But there was no mistaking the edge of malice in his gaze. “Rider of Zaridan. And king of the Karag horde of the Sarrothian.”

My lips parted as I stared, as my heart pumped mightily in my chest. I could feel the ripple of that name as it made its way across the clearing. I thought maybe even the stretch of mountains heard them and felt the quake of their power.

No, it wasn’t a name. It was a warning of what would come if we didn’t submit to him.

My dreams told me what he wanted. They’d been woven through my veins like a tapestry, and now the image they made was suddenly clear.

“And what is your name, aralye?” he asked, his tone slightly mocking, the dangerous glint in his gaze making my tongue feel like a heavy stone in my mouth.

“Don’t you already know it?” I asked, realization slotting into place.

In the market, he’d asked, Who are you really?

Those words had struck me as odd. Now I understood why.

He’d known who I was the moment I’d bumped into him. He’d known my bloodlines…but my scar had surprised him, taken him off guard. Why?

Sarkin’s eyes narrowed. Behind him, his dragon stomped, shaking the earth.

Strength, I thought.

“Klara of Rath Serok and Rath Drokka,” I told him. “I have no great name like yours, Sarkin Dirak’zar, rider of Zaridan, king of the Karag horde of the Sarrothian.”

Sarkin’s chin lifted, and behind him, the line of dragon riders made a simultaneous chanting sound, a rumble of deep, short thunder. Like a war cry that the hordes would make upon a Vorakkar’s return.

My gaze flashed to them. Six males and three females, I noticed.

Sarkin curled his finger under my chin, reclaiming my eyes.

I continued with, “I have no great name, but I am descended from greatness. From great Dakkari and humans alike who made this kingdom what it is now. I know what you want, Sarkin Dirak’zar. And I know you will only bring destruction in your wake if you take it.”

“It is not so difficult to guess what I want, Klara,” he told me, his lips pinched down, a glare in his gaze. He released my chin, and my head bobbed back from the force, my legs swaying underneath me, the pull of his eyes like a dizzying magic.

“I have seen your forests of heartstones,” I whispered to him. “Perhaps you’re greedy for just one more.”

Dannik cut me a sharp look, but the burn of Sarkin’s eyes held my full attention.

My loose tongue would get me into trouble, but I had spent the majority of my life tucked away in quiet places, out of sight and safe. For once, with the glowing golden eyes of a dragon upon me, I wanted to be fearless. With the Laseta Kalliri’s piercing gaze on me—her eyes hungry like a thief’s hand—I knew my fate had already been sealed. After tonight, I would likely be sent to the priestesses in the North Lands, just like my mother had always feared.

“Dothikkar,” Sarkin called out suddenly, making me jump. When my father said nothing, he continued, “You have a choice to make for your people.”

“Dakkari do not accept threats, rider, even if you proclaim yourself to be a king. You are no king here,” my father spat. “I am. You are in Kakkari’s realm now, and our goddess will⁠—”

Zaridan’s roar drowned out my father’s words, and her mighty tail struck the ground behind her. After long moments the echo of it trailed away, though the mountains in the distance sung with it, and my father was silent. She was still snorting out sharp huffs, a low growl in her throat.

“We answer to the Elthika, Dothikkar,” Sarkin said with cold patience as his eyes ran over my face. I had the impression he was looking for a weakness or trying to memorize every fault. “They are our gods and our goddesses. We are not Dakkari.”

I saw his eyes change, and he turned to meet my father’s gaze, stepping toward him though the guards unsheathed their swords at Sarkin’s approach. He didn’t even flinch.

“We are the Karag—riders of the mighty Elthika,” he growled, a low rumble that mirrored his dragon’s. “The gods of the sky. The death from above. You would do well to remember that before you speak to me. You might be king but only because of your bloodline. Where is the honor in that? Where is the sacrifice in that? The kings of Karag…we earn our thrones.”

The Karag.

“You have a choice to make, king,” Sarkin said, mocking distaste dripping from his tongue. “Give me the heartstone…”

A murmuring went through the clearing, the members of my father’s council loosening their tongues in their shock.

“Or give me your daughter.”

The world spun, the starlight brightening above as my vision blurred.

Dannik was the first to react.

“No,” came the word, growled from my brother’s lips. “Absolutely not.”

And yet…my father’s eyes had widened when he’d heard the Karag’s offer. As if he couldn’t believe his good fortune. Here was his opportunity to offload the daughter who had only ever brought shame and embarrassment, whose birth had nearly torn apart his legacy. And he could keep the heartstone?

His shock might’ve been mistaken for the shock of a loving father. Maybe that was what Sarkin would see. Maybe he would even revel in it.

My father knew that.

“No,” he said quickly, mirroring Dannik’s rejection. I saw my sister, Alanis, cut him a sharp look, her lips pressed together.

“Then perhaps I will take both,” came Sarkin’s simple reply.

A chorus of muted gasps and murmurings went through the clearing, and I stood there, unable to feel my feet planted firmly to the earth. Strangely, I thought of Queen Kara’s book in my room, the one that Sora had let me borrow from the archives, and I wondered how she could reclaim it if I was gone.

“Do you know why the Elthika are feared?” Sarkin asked. “Because of their strength? Because of their might? No. It’s because of their ethrall.”

My brow furrowed. Ethrall?

“It has toppled kingdoms and created civilizations. Would you like to see it, Dothikkar? Would you like to be reminded of what it can do?”

“Reminded?” my father rasped.

“Your people have seen it before. The last was two centuries ago. It wiped out an entire race on your planet…I wonder what it would do to your glittering city?”

“Impossible,” Dannik breathed. But except for him, no one moved.

Horror rooted me into place.

I saw Sarkin’s lips curl into a devastating grin. “You will learn to fear us. And only then can we come to understand one another, Dakkari.”

It happened quickly.

Sarkin’s eyes cut to mine, studying me again.

“Zari, ethrall,” he commanded.

Behind Sarkin’s line of riders, Zaridan reared back, the scales on her chest glittering as she inhaled deeply, the gust of wind she sucked in whipping my hair around my face. I didn’t understand…until I watched a silent roar, her jaws wide, razor black fangs exposed.

The red mist that streamed out of her crashed into the clearing like violent waves against a sea cliff.

“Klara!” I heard Dannik’s call, but I couldn’t see him. I was frozen into place as red fog trapped us, streaming around us like a river, one with no end. I heard Lakkis’s scream, her cry of horror. I heard a cacophony of voices rise up into the air, the panic and confusion and then the despair of realization. Of swords unsheathing, metal ringing, like they had a chance against this.

We hadn’t known what power these Karag possessed…and now we did.

The Elthika could create the red fog that had nearly destroyed our entire race two hundred years ago. The red fog my own ancestors had fought to defeat…and it had nearly killed them in the process.

All I saw was bloodred around me. I’d often wondered what it felt like, what it had been like. It was just as horrifying as I’d imagined.