Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  "That was close," he said.

  More butterfly venom hit them, then slowly dripped off the magical shield.

  With an increase in their annoying droning, the swarm came after him.

  Daimon tried to get away, but they followed, and he could feel the slime eating away at the shield as they continued to spew the nasty stuff at him.

  Tired of everything chasing them, and seeing no other choice, he sent a fiery blast of dragon-fire at them.

  It hit them and spread. Then blue wings spiraled downward as all around, butterflies dropped. More turned to take up the attack.

  "Come and get it, all you pretty, evil, mutant buttercups!" Daimon called and shot more dragon-fire their way, then he roared and charged after them.

  They scattered and quickly flew away, an angry droning following them.

  When he was sure they weren't coming back, Daimon turned and started away.

  On the ground, the Irod stood gaping up at him. Daimon picked up speed, ready to leave them all behind, when he spotted a warrior, a young woman standing off to the side.

  It was her.

  Daimon could feel her eyes on him as he flew away and his curiosity grew.

  Who was she?

  "We lost some of the wood and all the food," Caro griped once back in their cave.

  "I'll go get some more food," Daimon said, feeling bad for losing the little they had. If he'd been paying more attention, he'd have seen what was up ahead, and avoided the swarm.

  "No, I don't want you to get caught in the fog," Caro said.

  Daimon looked outside. "You don't need to worry about me, I can make it before the fog rolls in."

  "Is that what you think, that I care enough about you to worry?"

  "Well ..." It had been, but obviously he was wrong.

  "Caro!" Elan said.

  She glared at her brother, then scowled at Daimon. "I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about us. If you don't make it back, then what?" She put her hands on her hips. "I'll tell you what, Elan and I are stuck up here with no way down, that's what. Of course, that's if we survive the night and don't freeze to death."

  Daimon realized she was right, but after the last few days he'd thought they'd become friends, and she should know by now that he wouldn't let anything happen to either of them.

  "Don't worry about her, she doesn't mean it," Elan said before he followed his sister down the tunnel to refill their jugs.

  Daimon sat down and gazed around the sparse cave they slept in. She was right, if something happened, they'd be in big trouble.

  He was tired, but still he closed his eyes, drew on his power and pictured his home. Then he drew on the strange energy that resided within him. "If you're at all helpful, then help me now."

  He thought in detail of what he wanted, and when he opened his eyes, he'd conjured up three bed pallets, warm blankets, a table, and three chairs.

  He tried for food and wood again, but again nothing happened.

  Well, at least he had someplace comfortable for them to sleep and blankets to keep them warm. Lately he'd been feeling as if he couldn't do anything right. He never had any idea how much weight responsibility could be upon one's shoulders. Now he wished more than ever he could tell his parents how much he appreciated them. That thought only dragged him down further, so that he replayed all that had happened. His shortcomings.

  It didn't help that the day before he tried to conjure up a pair of short swords for the twins and instead got one small knife. He didn't tell the twins he'd messed up, and instead gave the weapon to Caro, to which he was grateful he'd done so now.

  When the twins returned, he got to his feet. "I hope this might be more comfortable."

  "Do you think you can buy our friendship?" Caro asked.

  "Caro—"

  She waved her brother's protest away.

  Daimon blinked, then shook his head. "What? No, I just thought this would be more comfortable than sleeping on the hard ground." He needed to get away. Daimon turned away and went down the tunnel.

  After drinking his fill from the waterfall, he began to work once more on the wall leading to what he hoped was a hot spring. His mind shifted back to the young warrior female he'd seen earlier. Was she Ilyium? If so, how long had she lived here? What was her name, and what would the sound of her voice be like? Would she be sharp-tongued like Caro, or sweet and kind?

  Somehow, seeing her standing there ready to reign hell-fire down on the MB's, he didn't think she'd be either of those things. No, she seemed more like a warrior princess.

  It took a little while, but he smiled when he was done and discovered the chamber beyond did indeed hold a sweet little hot spring.

  Steam rose from the water-filled basin, and it reminded him of the bathing chamber at home. They’d also had a hot spring to soak the grime and worries of the day away.

  Daimon stuck his fingers in and tested the temperature, then deciding it wasn't too hot, quickly shed his clothes and sank into the water.

  It felt so good, and he relaxed for a few minutes, considering all that had happened. To survive in this realm was going to be a constant challenge. He thought of those he'd left behind and wondered what was happening.

  He knew enough of Ilyium ways to understand it probably wasn't good, though at least he'd stopped the Irod from taking anymore Ilyium children.

  He climbed out and dressed, wondering how they'd ever get home to Tartaria.

  He entered the sleeping cave to find the twins sitting hunched on their pallets, blankets wrapped around their shoulders.

  Caro looked up at him, a look of regret in her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "It's all right."

  "No, it's not," Caro said, and shot a glance at her brother. "Elan and I, we're just not used to relying on anyone, and it's not easy to suddenly do so now."

  "I get it," Daimon said, and because it had hurt, he changed the subject. "We now have a hot tub."

  Caro's eyes lit up. "I so want a bath." She studied him for a moment. "Can you make us swim wear?"

  Daimon grinned and pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing what she's asked for. "Thought you might ask, will these work?"

  The swim gear he'd conjured up were a little big, but did the trick, and they all hurried down to soak in the hot spring.

  That night they settled on their pallets.

  "I was beginning to wonder if you always slept in dragon form," Elan said.

  "No, only when I don't have a bed," Daimon said.

  "Do you have a preference? Is one form more comfortable than the other?" Caro asked, and there was something in her question that stopped him from answering too quickly.

  Then he figured it out. "No, not really. Would you like me to shift into my dragon to keep you warmer?"

  "It is still kind of cold in here, even with the blankets," Caro said.

  Daimon shifted and the twins dragged their pallets close to him.

  "Can you warm the cave for us again with your dragon-fire?" Caro asked.

  Daimon did, then covered them with a wing.

  "Back home, we didn't have friends," Caro said quietly.

  "How can that be?" Daimon asked. "I saw how the whole city loved the two of you. They even threw you a birthday celebration. I'm pretty sure they don't do that for all Ilyium children."

  "You're right, they don't. But what you witnessed was merely a love for power. For what we—as witches, can do, and fear for our great grandmother," she explained. "Elan and I, we've only ever had ourselves. Our aunt cared for us, but we were put into training at the age of six, and we learned that while others may pretend to be our friends, they were not. You, on the other hand, really are our friend, and what happened today, well … it scared me. I’m sorry. I get mean when I’m scared."

  “I understand, and I’m glad we’re friends.” Daimon thought over her words, understanding her a lot better now. Seeing them in danger, knowing they could be hurt scared him as well. Sti
ll, he couldn't imagine not having friends. He had siblings, cousins, and many friends, though they were all dragonkind like him. "I'm sorry to scare you. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try not to do it again. I like that we’re friends. I imagine growing up must’ve been lonely."

  "We had each other," Caro said as they snuggled closer to his body.

  That would still have been lonely, he thought as they settled in for the night. Then he thought about the energy inside of him. It had felt like a living entity at times, even talking to him. But the last little bit he'd stomped down on it so hard, especially when it tried to sway which direction they flew, that he wasn't even sure it was still there.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated, going deep within himself. At first, he thought he was right, and it had left, but then he saw a spot of white. A lightness. It was barely there, and though he tried to be stealthy and careful, his presence still ended up waking the thing up.

  It reached for Daimon, the light growing stronger, brighter, until it was pulsing in waves through him. Tentacles of light grew rapidly, grasping in an attempt to control him. Go— Celtylight—free … It wasn't so much a voice, but a compulsion. One he refused to listen too.

  No, leave me alone. Daimon drew on his own dragon power, and then shoved at the compulsion with all his might. The tentacles released him, and he quickly built a mental shield to keep the entity contained.

  When he opened his eyes, he was breathing hard.

  "You okay, Daimon?" Elan asked, peering out from under his wing.

  "Yeah, just a bad dream."

  Elan studied him for a long moment, then lay back down. "All right, well, goodnight Daimon. Thank you for trying so hard to take care of us."

  Daimon blinked at the boy, grateful he'd gone back to sleep. He didn't want him, or his sister to realize how panicked he really was, because then he’d have to explain why. They didn’t need that problem on top of all their others. Plus, he didn’t want to scare them, and he really had no idea how dangerous the energy inside him could be.

  But as he settled in and tried to sleep, it eluded him, and his mind wandered back to the energy inside him. It was powerful, there was no doubt about that. How did he get rid of it?

  He shuddered as he thought of the Celtylight tree, the forest, and the spiders. He had no doubt they'd all end up hanging dead in a cocoon if they went anywhere near the place again.

  Chapter 13

  Caught

  Over the next week they continued to fly out and learn the countryside as much as they could, and each day they saw another battle being fought.

  They often stopped to pick fruit and vegetables so that they didn't starve, though Daimon had grown a wicked craving for some sort of meat. He was going to have to go hunting, and soon. The only thing that had stopped him so far was the twins didn't like him to leave them, and he didn't want them seeing him slaughter and eat another living creature. Even if it was a wild animal. Back home his parents always provided their food, and he'd never had to hunt.

  Daimon slowly flew into their cave.

  The twins climbed off his back and set their satchel of edibles down, while Daimon shifted.

  "I hate seeing our brethren out there. They're too young to be in such life and death battles," Caro said.

  Daimon didn't like seeing the witches on the battlefield as well. "The ones tonight and yesterday looked like they were five and six years old." Sadly, they didn't all make it through the battles alive.

  "I thought you were going to grab that little boy witch yesterday," Elan said to Daimon.

  "For a second I thought about it," he admitted. "Actually, I've thought about it a lot." Daimon turned and scowled at their meager home. "I'd like nothing more than to rescue them all, but ..."

  "But we can barely feed ourselves," Caro said.

  "Right."

  Each night they discussed ways to get home.

  "Even if we figure it out, I'd have a hard time leaving here knowing we were leaving witch children behind," Daimon said.

  The twins nodded their agreement.

  "Maybe we need to join the demons in their war," Elan suggested. They'd talked about it before but very briefly. "It'd be a good way to try and get close to the children."

  "We could, but their battles seem to be futile," Caro said. "We'd be putting ourselves at risk, and for what? We have no guarantee that we'd get close to any of the other children."

  "You're right," Daimon said. "There are no guarantees."

  They were all silent as they considered their options.

  "I wonder how it all started. What exactly are the MB's doing when they turn the field to green goop? If we could figure out what each side wants, that would help," Daimon said.

  "We need to do a little reconnaissance," Elan said.

  "From a distance and without getting caught," Caro added.

  Except the next day a battle sprang up around them, seemingly out of nowhere.

  It was cloudy out and the first rain they'd experienced in this realm left them soaking. They were tired and ready to be home, when a swarm of MB’s practically dropped down on them from above.

  Irod demons rushed from their underground warren.

  Daimon caught sight of a dark-haired female warrior as arrows began to fly.

  "Caro," Daimon called.

  "I'm on it." But before she could activate a shield around them, they were hit with slime.

  Most of the arrows slid off Daimon's scales, but a couple pierced his wings, one of which was already burning from the acid in the green goop.

  "Hang on," he yelled as they dipped to the right, but it was too late. Elan fell from the saddle.

  Daimon dove after him, and had just managed to scoop him up, when he was hit again from above and below.

  The ground sped up at him fast.

  Daimon twisted and landed on his side. When he opened his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief—both his charges were unhurt. He loosened his talon cradling Elan, while Caro got to her feet beside him.

  Then the demons hit them from all sides.

  "Leave them alone!" Daimon shouted as the Irod soldiers yanked Caro and Elan away. He struggled to get his feet under him, but one was twisted, and as pain shot through him, he fell.

  He tried to fly after them, only that didn't work either. One wing felt paralyzed.

  He managed to stand, and started to let loose a stream of fire, but the demons held the children in front of them as shields.

  "Daimon!" Elan called, fear etched on his face, while Caro struggled with their captors. Each time she built a ball of magic fire, it was quickly extinguished.

  Daimon ignored the agony, and the demons and MB’s fighting all around him, and stumbled after the twins.

  He wasn't fast enough.

  The soldiers loaded the twins onto a wagon.

  "Shield yourselves," Daimon told Caro and Elan, then shot fire at their captors, but all it did was scorch the ground around him. What the—? He tried to move.

  There was some kind of containment field around him, and off to his side were three very young witches holding hands and chanting.

  "No!" he roared.

  A group of Irod soldiers broke off from the fighting to surround him. Then with the witches help, they loaded him into the back of another wagon.

  Daimon struggled to break free, and for a moment he thought it worked, but the spell continued to hold.

  Frustration and fear gripped him at the thought of losing and never finding the twins again. Of them being used in the Irod's war against their will, and possibly getting hurt. Maybe even dying.

  He'd vowed to protect them.

  While the battle raged around them, the wagon he was in pulled away. Daimon forced himself to calm, remembering his father's teachings. He needed to control his anger, gather his thoughts, and come up with a plan. He knew the Irod wouldn't hurt the twins, they needed them too badly. But him? He was the wildcard. Did they plan to kill him because he was trouble, or enlist hi
s aid in their fight?

  Daimon could see it now, they'd use the twins against him to make them do what they wanted.

  No, he had to get Caro and Elan back. If any of them ever decided to fight for the Irod, it had to be their choice to do so, not through coercion.

  He could do this, he had too. Then he saw her, she stood alone once again, her staff raised in the air, and magic seemed to vibrate from her whole body. The warrior female who’s captured his attention at first glimpse and who he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind.

  Calm …

  The word drifted to him on the sharp breeze, and somehow, it helped. He grew calmer, less panicked. Then he looked around and realized that they were headed in a different direction from where the Irod had taken the twins.

  Daimon held still and concentrated. His ankle, though still sore, felt much better, and so did his wing, though the witch spell still prevented him from bursting free.

  He drew on his power and pushed. There was some give to the forcefield holding him, but it wasn't enough. He tried again, and again, then finally stopped. What could he do, how was he to rescue his friends if he couldn't even free himself?

  What do you have to work with? This question was his father's and one he'd asked Daimon many times while training to fight.

  Daimon looked around, but there was nothing in the wagon with him.

  But there was one thing that might work. Though he really didn't want to get near it again. Still, what choice did he have?

  Daimon closed his eyes and looked deep inside himself. It was still there, a faint mild hum.

  The energy from the portal.

  He opened his eyes and watched the passing scenery. If he was going to do this, he had to do it now, before he lost all chances to find the twins.

  Daimon drew on his power and sought the strange energy inside himself. It awoke slowly, then flooded his system with a lightness.

  Celtylight!

  “Please, I need your assistance.” Then he drew on everything within him, and with a huge shove, pushed it all outward. The spell holding him dissolved. Then, without giving the soldiers any warning, he took to the sky.