The Dragon's Tongue by C. J. Brightley

Author:C. J. Brightley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy, fairy, futuristic, faerie, fae, christian, brainwashing, near future, christian fantasy, near future fantasy
Publisher: Spring Song Press

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Grenidor pulled up the list of questions for Aithne on his tablet. She and Ailill were the most pleasant of the remaining vampires to interrogate. Ailill was interesting, magnetic, surprisingly soft-spoken for someone who had caused so much trouble. But Aithne was just as compelling, and gorgeous, too. Keep your eyes to yourself, Paul. Don’t be stupid.

She was already watching the barred door when he came into view; she must have heard his footsteps. But she said nothing.

“I have questions. How is Owen related to Feichin?”

She gave him a cool look, and then deliberately turned her face toward the wall.

“Look, I know you’ll have to answer me eventually. The faster you answer, the faster I’ll leave you alone to the joys of your concrete box.” He growled the words, but he couldn’t muster the same visceral hatred that came so naturally when he looked at Feichin. She was too beautiful, too perfect. She hasn’t had an opportunity to kill anyone yet. That’s the only difference.

She did not answer.

“How is Owen related to Feichin?” he repeated.

Her jaw tightened, and she bit her lower lip.

Grenidor couldn’t entirely hide his grim satisfaction. “How is Owen related to Feichin? Answer me. It’s important.”

She turned her blue eyes on him, her anger so intense he could almost feel it as a physical force. “Why do you ask?”

“I need to understand your clans. Meallan,” he mangled the pronunciation, but her expression said she understood, “said he was from the clan of Falling Water. What clan are you from?”

She could not help answering. He knew that; even silence was difficult if he asked enough times, with enough intensity. But would she tell the truth?

“What are you going to do with the information?”

“Nothing. I just want to understand.” That was true enough. He didn’t have any plans for the information yet. But more knowledge of the vampires was always better.

“Lord Ailill is Lord Owen’s father.” The words sounded as if they were dragged out of her. “Feichin is the son of Lord Ailill’s youngest brother. Feichin is my father. Meallan is from my mother’s clan, the son of my mother’s father’s brother.”

Grenidor tried to picture the family tree. “Don’t you have words for those relationships? Meallan is your cousin, then?”

“He is of my parents’ generation. I do not know the word for that in English.”

His tablet gave a soft beep and he glanced at it. General Harrison’s name showed for a few moments, superimposed over the Empire’s symbol, the bison. Why did we change to the bison again? A new government. A new symbol. The bison recalled the old times, when the country was open and free, before even the old government had been formed. But the adoption of the new-old symbol had been carefully executed, reminding people of the strength and power and freedom of the bison while omitting any historical context.

He looked back up at Aithne, considering what other questions he might ask. “How old are you?”

“One hundred twenty years.” She gave him a curious look. “I have told you that before.

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