King of Mist (Steel and Fire Book 2) by Jordan Rivet Page B

those.
    She nodded to Yeltin, the gray-bearded Castle Guard posted at the entrance to the cur-dragon cave. One of the original guardsmen, he was definitely loyal to the king, but he also wasn’t young. They needed fresh blood to meet the new threat.
    As Dara strode down the cur-dragon tunnel, claustrophobia flashed through her at the memory of their adventure the night before. She had been afraid in those tunnels—very afraid—until she felt that river of Fire pulling her like a beacon. She had followed that sensation to get out of the depths of the mountain and back toward the surface. But what was all that Fire for? It presented an even bigger problem than the mysterious duelists.
    Pool stood at the end of the passageway, where an iron gate blocked the cavern entrance to prevent unruly cur-dragons from wandering into the castle.
    “Greetings, Miss Ruminor.”
    “I’d like to talk to you and the king about something, Pool,” Dara said.
    “Certainly. I shall inquire whether he has a moment to hear your entreaty.”
    Pool opened the gate to the cur-dragon enclosure and shooed away a pair of dragon keepers lingering nearby. The sky outside the cave opening was clear today. The Burnt Mountains stood sharp against the skyline. A cur-dragon launched itself from the ledge and soared out into the crisp blue sky as Dara entered.
    Siv sprawled on the floor with his back to her, playing with his favorite cur-dragon hatchling. Rumy was three months old and getting big quickly, already the largest of his litter. He stretched his wings, which had begun to take on a greenish cast, and preened as Siv tossed him bits of morrinvole meat. Siv looked like his old self, not like a king with enemies on all sides. Dara didn’t speak, watching him coo at the little dragon and tease it with the treats. Not for the first time she wished everything could go back to the way it used to be.
    Then Zage Lorrid stepped out of the shadows, clad in his customary black. A silver leaf pin glinted at his throat.
    “What is it, Miss Ruminor?” he said.
    “I need to speak with the king.”
    “About?”
    But Siv had heard her name. He leapt to his feet.
    “Dara! How are you? How’s your h—?” He stopped when she shot him a warning look. “How are you?” he finished lamely. Zage raised an eyebrow.
    “I’m fine, Your Majesty.” Dara resisted the urge to probe the lump on the back of her head. “I learned something last night, and I wanted to talk to you and Pool about an idea I had.”
    “Excellent.”
    Siv waited expectantly. Dara glanced at Zage. “Can we speak in private?”
    “No, Zage should hear this.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Of course.”
    Siv grinned, apparently not getting the hint that Dara didn’t want to talk about this in front of the Fire Warden. Siv trusted Zage unreservedly, but Dara didn’t think he’d proved himself worthy of it. When Siv didn’t respond to her pointed look in the Fire Warden’s direction, she sighed and launched into her tale.
    She left out the name of the person who had taken her into the cavern and the part about Siv being there with her. She needed Pool to have all the information if he was going to help them with her scheme, but she didn’t want to let on that Berg was their source yet.
    Siv acted appropriately surprised as she described the mysterious cavern, playing his part well. He scowled when she got to the part about Pavorran. That betrayal must still burn.
    “So we have a squad of swordsmen training in this cavern, possibly with army involvement,” Dara finished. “I can’t tell how many are from Vertigon and how many are from elsewhere, but there were at least two Soolen men among them.”
    “This is nearly inconceivable,” Pool said when she finished her story, rubbing a hand through the gray hair at his temples.
    “It seems a fanciful tale,” Zage said.
    “I saw it,” Dara said.
    “I do not doubt you, Miss Ruminor,” Pool said. “But are you quite certain they mean the