ATS B7 Ch9: Cressida's Mission (2)

Cressida made her way down the hall to her father's office at what was charitably called a fast walk and was certainly not a run. She could hear her mother's voice in the back of her head, gently scolding.

“Ladies do not run in public, not even if the world is about to fall apart.”

Well, the world was close to falling apart, and still she was an obedient daughter. She did not run.

The way to her father's office was familiar, yet she was taken aback by how dark the once-familiar hallway had become, how closed in and how small. But perhaps it was not small at all, and she had simply grown up.

Though it certainly was dark. No servant had bothered to revitalize the card anchor lights that lit the way.

Everything in this estate had become dark after Cressida's mother had passed. Not even remarrying and having her half-siblings had changed her father's outlook.

Pushing those thoughts away, Cressida squared her shoulders and marched on. Her father's outlook did not need to change. He only needed to listen to her for once in his life.

The office was located at the end of the hallway, and she rapped on the double wooden doors with her knuckles. It would be very much like the man to ignore her, but—

“Yes, come in,” called her father's voice.

Cressida opened the door and strode inside.

Her father was sitting behind a heavy wooden desk, and he had… aged. His hair was gray where it had once been as red as her own, and long lines of care had carved themselves into his face. His eyelids had become heavy, and he squinted at her for a moment without recognition before he finally said, “Daughter.”

“Father,” she replied evenly.

“I suppose that is your beast out in the courtyard?” he asked.

“I secured a Rare dragon, as I had written to you in my letters.”

He frowned. “And now you believe you are beyond reproach and do not have a care for the duties that were assigned to you—”

 She did not want to have this conversation. “Father—”

“And I suppose you have more access to cards in a hive than you would among your own people,” he added bitterly.

Cressida wanted to remind him that he had been the one to send her to Wolf Moon Hive, either to secure a dragon or, much more likely, a suitable marriage. Of course, he would have several backup marriage options at Icehouse, none of which Cressida found interesting.

“None of that matters now,” she said. “I do not come to you as your daughter. I come to you under the orders of my hive leader.”

A hive leader who was courting her in his own bumbling, charming way, and who—if his claim to his bloodline could be legitimized—her father surely would have no objection to. Rowantree was a fine old bloodline, and Cressida was certain that she had enough leverage over Penn to get the man to formally acknowledge Arthur as his first cousin. Her and Arthur’s children, should they not become dragonriders, would technically be heirs to Rowantree until Penn got on with his own duties. Those were not the reasons Cressida liked Arthur, but she was not blind to certain advantages.

“Cressida,” he started to stand, angry. “you come to me in my house, thinking that you are grown and deign to order me around—”

Cressida let out a sigh. “I come to you with dire warnings, Father. There will be an eruption here.”

“Nonsense. We are too far outside the normal populace for that.”

“There will be eruptions all over the kingdom,” she said shortly.

He interrupted her, sweeping his arm forward, and a burst of orange flame shot out at her.

With an unladylike roll of her eyes, Cressida activated her mana bubble shield with a kinetic force component. She had the mana for it, and she enjoyed seeing her father's fire summons bounce uselessly off the shield, struck so hard that her father had to move his head out of the way to avoid being hit by the recoil.

“But you are right, I have grown stronger,” she said.

In reply, he sent out a wave of stinging air needles, all of which were equally repelled.

Cressida stood in place with her arms crossed, radiating annoyance. He was not truly trying to hurt her, as he had never been a physically abusive man, but he was not above proving a point through the strength of cards.

However, Cressida had been out of the house for quite some time, and she was not above proving a point or two of her own.

She melted into the shadows cast by his desk and came out again beside her father. In a flash, she grabbed his hand before he could wave another card power at her—probably some water summons this time. He was predictable.

“Enough, Father.”

He froze, then looked at her. “You have picked up a few more tricks,” he said. “Well done. What other cards do you have?”

“I am not here on a social call,” she said instead of answering him. “And time is of the essence. I have ordered an evacuation of the entire Icehouse territory.”

Finally, he seemed to hear her, at least a little.

“Evacuation? That is impossible. I would speak to one of the leaders of your hive—”

“I am one of the leaders,” she said, pointing to the grand floor-to-ceiling windows, which showed a sweeping vista of the tundra plain. Through it, about half of the dragons under her control could be seen flitting back and forth from dwelling to dwelling. Most were loaded down with people. “I am part of the leader’s retinue, and that captain, who rides another Rare dragon, listens and obeys me.”

To her surprise, a smile spread across his face.

“You do look like your mother when you’re fearsome, but… Cressida? If you know the erruption coming, why doesn’t the hive stop it? Isn’t that the point of a hive?”

The truth was, she knew he did not know what an eruption looked like, or else he would be taking her a lot more seriously. This close to the border, eruptions were only scary stories.

“Because it is a kingdom-wide attack,” she said again. “And I have used my position in the hive to secure a place for our people. One of the very few places of safety.”

He nodded as if this was to be expected. Then his gaze wandered around the room, a little doddering, before he again looked to her.

“But… what will we return to? The harvest is in, but you know what it takes to survive the winter here.”

Finally, she cracked a little. She had not really allowed herself to think much about what they were truly facing, and what, if anything, might be left if they managed to survive. It was too horrible.

“I don’t know.”

It was odd. She had expected him to fight this more, but right now he was looking at her like she was the adult, and he was the child who needed answers she could not give. Of course, he could change his mind and become stubborn at any moment, so she pushed on.

“I am having the riders evacuate the outer branch families first,” she said, speaking quickly while she had his attention. “I thought that you should spread the word within the inner estate and allow people to gather their valuables.” She gave him a significant look. “The things they would not want to leave behind.”

Of course, people had their family cards passed down through generations. Their family had their private card library, and she had already seen to that. But here, where mining made gems plentiful, most people had many cut and uncut stones that would dazzle any southerner. It would be a shame to leave that wealth behind for the scourglings. In the worst case, they could use it to rebuild what was left of their lives afterward.

“Yes… yes, of course. I shall… I shall send word,” he said, vaguely shuffling through the scattered papers on his desk.

“Here, Father,” she said, locating and then sliding a blank piece of parchment to him.

He scrawled a note that was barely legible, but Cressida took up a quill and added her piece. He did not object, just continued to look around the room as if he was a little lost.

The note done, she took the parchment to the door and rang for a servant. They arrived quickly, and she passed it along.

She turned back to her father. This was the best of his moods, though it was one where she would have to lead him by the hand, and she expected he would become difficult later on. She and Joy would not have received such a quest unless there would be issues ahead.

“Now, let us talk about the evacuation of our own family,” she said. “I have sent Villiam to take care of some vital records and things.” She did not mention the card library, because that would surely snap him into a temper. “But of course, we do need to see to the children. I understand that they are in school—”

“CRESSIDA!”

Joy’s voice thundered from the courtyard through the entire estate, and there was a note of panicked urgency within it.

Cressida’s head snapped toward her dragon, and she strode to the window to see Joy on all fours, looking around wildly.

“Cressida? Where are you?”

Cressida concentrated on Joy’s shadow and stepped through it. Her father would likely see the action as rude as she hadn't been dismissed, but it was worth it to be instantly at her dragon’s side.

“Dear, what is it?”

“We must hurry. I need to go!” Joy’s eyes were wild. Without another word, she scooped up Cressida and practically tossed her onto the back of her neck before taking to the air.

Cressida barely had time to find her seat, but long practice saved her. “What is it?” she demanded, straightening up. “Not the eruption, surely?”

No, no, no! It was well before the time the seers had predicted. And if it was erupting here, then what of the rest of the kingdom? This was much, much too early! Had the scourglings made an exception because she and Arthur had set the abominable thing loose on the kingdom, and for some reason it was taking revenge?

But as they rose into the sky, she saw no sign of an earthquake: no dust in the air, no shaking of buildings or the few scrubby, tundra trees. The thousands of hanging glass decorations did not so much as waver. In fact, most of the commotion seemed to be evacuees arguing with the dragonriders. Hopefully her father’s scrawled orders—assuming he did not call them back and alter them—would help with that.

“I don’t understand,” Cressida said. “Joy, what is wrong?”

But Joy ignored her increasingly urgent questions and flew doggedly upward toward the portal in the sky.

The danger is at Blood Moon, Cressida realized. But what could it be? And how could Joy have known about it? Her enhanced intuition?

Joy powered through the portal at top speed, and with a sickening swoop in her stomach, they were suddenly on the other side. Then her dragon was diving, to the leader’s ledge at the top of the Hive’s tower.

Blood Moon seemed to be at ease. Dragons were flying about without any panic, and the alarm bells were not ringing.

This is about Brixaby, Cressida thought, but she was wrong again because Brixaby and Asha were nowhere in sight. Neither had returned from their mission. Nor were they expected to be, this soon.

Sams, who had been sunning himself on the ledge, saw Joy’s approach and bellowed a question. “Joy! Welcome! But why are you coming back so soon?”

To Cressida’s shock, Joy bellowed something back, but it was so distorted with a growl that she could not understand it.

Sams did.

The older, much larger dragon got up and backed away. Then, deciding that was not enough, he dropped off the ledge into the sky to pick another spot.

This was completely out of character for her bouncy, bubbly dragon.

“Joy?” Cressida placed a hand on her neck. Her scales were so warm—almost feverish. Was she ill?

Joy backwinged and landed on the ledge, then raised her head in a strident order. Within moments, they were joined by a flock of tiny purple dragons.

“What is it?”“You called.”“Candyfloss is here to help.”“So is Blueberry,” said a ridiculously deep voice.

“Get me branches,” Joy said between her teeth. “They must have only the softest leaves. I need… I need, boulders. No, never mind the boulders. Get me fluff.  Anything soft. Blankets. Steal them. I need them all. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry!”

The flock of purple dragons shot off like their tails were on fire.

“Branches? Blankets?” Cressida slid off her dragon’s neck and stood beside her with her hands on her hips. “Joy. Explain yourself right now.”

Her dragon half snarled, then turned in place, huffing and scratching at the ledge as if it displeased her. “I feel very… very strange,” she said shortly. “It is not fun, and I feel…”

Then she turned again and started to squat, lifting her tail in a classic pose.

Cressida backed up a few steps, wondering if her dragon was, in fact, sick. And of course, their trusted healer was away on a mission.

But Joy was not sick. Because what emerged a few moments later was, undeniably, an egg.