by D. E. Morris
“No,” he argued weakly. “You must have. You must be confused. You have to be. I held you in my arms.”
She pulled her hands away from him and stumbled back, the implications of it all crashing down upon her and making it feel as though all of the oxygen had been stolen from the room. “I was with our son.” She could hear Jaryn speaking to her, pleading, his voice sounding far away, but she couldn't make out the words. Images came unbidden to her mind that only confused her further and she looked at her husband in accusation, her heart breaking. “What...I don't understand any of this.” He reached for her to pull her back to him but she stepped farther back with a violent shake of her head. “You spent the night with someone you thought was me? How could you...were there...I don't...” She put her hands on her head, unable to form a cohesive sentence.
“It was you,” Jaryn insisted. “It was your voice, your face, your everything.”
“I think I'm going to be sick.” She wanted to shut down, to simply run away from the room and pretend none of it had ever happened, and the pain and confusion she was feeling wasn't real. Yet even amid all of the turmoil, her mind was already racing, trying to figure out how any of it could even be possible. The only reasonable explanation that kept surfacing was a shape-shifter like Misuzu, but the only other one they'd come across, Hideo, was dead. That led her to believe Merrik was somehow involved. He had told her that he would destroy everyone around her before he would come for her and the rest of the Elementals. He'd made it a promise.
“Ashlynn, please listen to me.” Jaryn had moved close enough to brush her arm and broke the protective analytical wall she'd managed to hide herself behind. In an instant, all of the emotions came rushing back and she staggered away, her shoulder hitting the wall. Tears stung her eyes at the thought of his hands touching another woman and bile rose in her throat.
“I can't,” she managed. “I'm sorry. Right now I just can't.” Before he could get a hold of her, she sidestepped around him and rushed out of the room. Jaryn stayed where he was, head in his hands, completely at a loss.
Ashlynn hurried down the halls, ordering her guards to stay with Jaryn so she could duck into a quiet room as soon as she came across one and lock herself inside. When she was certain she was alone, she let herself weep until she almost made herself sick, and even then, she knew she could have kept crying. She was angry and hurt, and more confused than she'd ever been. More than anything, she just wanted to fly. She needed the freedom of the skies to reset her thoughts for even just a few minutes so that she could regain some sense of composure and figure out how to deal with this. Wiping her face on the sleeve of her dress, she took several deep, shuddering breaths and stepped out into the hall, and almost right into Killian.
“Your Majesty, I was just looking for you. A letter has arrived about the inquiry into the girl the princess has been-” Concern washed over his normally business-like expression as he looked into her eyes. Quiet, he asked her, “Are you all right?”
She sniffled and shook her head. “No, and neither is Jaryn. I left him in the room we were all in together.” Looking down, she straightened her gown. “I think he may need a friend.”
Killian considered her with hesitation. “What about you?”
With renewed tears and a watery smile, she touched his arm in thanks, then hurried on her way without a word. There were tunnels she could take that would lead her to less used areas of the lower levels of the castle. These were the areas she often sought when she needed to shift. If her father was gathering troops to take with him, it was likely they would be assembling in the same wing and riding east. She would have to cross over into another wing, but it could be done if she was careful. Whatever it took, she was prepared. She just needed to get away from the castle and everyone in it before she screamed and completely lost it.
The northern training levels were clear and she slipped outside easily enough, knowing just where to go to find enough room to transform but to also stay hidden. For the past week, patrol had been more frequent and much tighter and closer, so she knew she would have to time it perfectly. Only when she was certain it was safe did she leave the secrecy of her hidden passageway and step out into the warm summer air. The area before her was open and used for sparring, just big enough for a small Gaelic dragon like her. She willed the change to happen quickly, hoping her rush of emotions would help speed the shift on as it had several times before. Her body contorted and grew as wings and a tail sprang forth, arms and legs became more muscular and toned, covered in green scales. Her face elongated into a pointed maw with razor sharp teeth, and talons dug into the ground as the transformation completed itself. She felt joints lock into place just as the clink of armor could be heard around the bend. With no time left to spare, she lowered herself into a crouch, then leaped into the air and beat her wings to give herself leverage.
She flew out to sea first, gliding to stretch out muscles that were poorly used and ignoring the shouts of excitement from below. Nyx could be seen perched atop one of the higher spires of Altaine just watching her. She'd made it a point some time ago to go flying whenever Connor came around with Nyx, coming up with a story that his dragon must have made a friend somewhere along the way, and that the green came by whenever Nyx was at Altaine. It didn't matter that the two dragons were never seen flying together, only that the story gained ground. That way, the unfamiliar dragon became more familiar and less of a threat or a curiosity. Only the few who knew who the green truly was helped spread the story and further its acceptance.
Nyx trumpeted three short little barks into the air, her standard way of greeting Ashlynn but also telling her she had no interest in being friends. They were both dragon-kin, yes, but they were different races and had different parent Elements, which meant Nyx didn't want to have anything to do with her. Ashlynn also suspected she felt more than a little territorial over the castle, sitting up top like a queen herself.
The pain in her heart was subsiding with every beat of her wings. She inhaled as much sea air as her lungs could hold before letting go of a great bellow. It was safe to do that out over the ocean. There were no hunters to find her there, no one to startle. Looking back toward land, she could see people in the western side of Altaine Village and in the castle coming out at her call, and it made her laugh. Yes, perhaps she and her kind should be feared, but they should also be admired.
Doubling back, she flew at a quick clip over the shore and pulled up to fly up the side of the mountain and over the castle before soaring out and away over the emerald hills of Siness. In this form, she still felt as though she were tied to her Element, as though she felt the pulse of nature all around her. The faster and the farther she flew, the less she remembered the conversation she'd just had with her husband. As trees and valleys rushed under her in blurs of green, she even started to forget about the things that had happened at the castle and that were taking place all over her country. The only thing that mattered, all she could focus on was the wind in her wings and the building, freeing joy in her heart.
A net came hurtling out of nowhere, blanketing her face and reaching back across her body. She cried out in confusion and shook her wings, but the more she struggled, the more tangled she became. Inhaling, she prepared to set the netting on fire until she realized it was more of a metal mesh. All at once, the net was tugged from below and she was pulled backward with a cruel jerk. Her body crashed through the trees, twisting as it fell, wrapping her more into the netting that quickly became a metal cocoon around her. With an earth-shaking thud, she hit the ground and felt all the air leave her body. For a moment, she didn't know what was going on, but all too soon, she realized she was staring at a small catapult gun with another net already loaded into it. A bellow beside her made her twist and writhe, turning to see a yellow dragon beside her, also wound up in a net.
“Hurry up!” someone yelled. “These nets won't hold for long!”
Ashlynn growled and snapped, rolling and trying to get a good
look at who had captured her, but before she could, a slow tune began to fill the air. It was hollow and reedy, an instrument she'd heard before and one that had rendered her powerless. This time was no different as she felt herself growing weaker and weaker as the tune went on. It was as though all of her energy was being drained from her. Before, she had been compelled to obey whatever command had been given to her when the panflute was being played. This time, Ashlynn knew she couldn't even roll over if someone asked it of her. She simply didn't have the strength.
Though the yellow dragon towered over the hunting party that appeared to consist of three women and six men, and was larger even than Ashlynn was herself, several of them approached her without any trace of fear. She, too, remained docile and entranced while the music played. Even when the hunters rolled her over onto her side and began running their hands along her belly to look for soft spots among her scales, all she could do was manage a weak grumble and little else. One of the hunters walked up by the dragon's maw, a little more timid as he reached up under her chin to search there, eyes locked with the beast's the entire time and ready to bolt if he needed to, but there was nothing to worry about.
“Keep playing, Fleur,” someone instructed. “If she starts to falter, Chrys, come in right behind her. We have a few seconds when the music stops before the effect wears off but we don't want to take any chances.”
“I'm glad we were told about this,” said one of the others close to Ashlynn's head. “This is going to make our lives so much easier.”
A muscular man with dark brown skin walked around the front of Ashlynn and looked her over. “As long as the music keeps playing until their hearts stop beating, we'll be fine. Just make sure they're actually dead this time or one of you will lose an arm like Arie did.” He placed a meaty hand on the flat plane of her face over the netting the way she often did with her own horse. “This one's a Gael. She's got human in her eyes.” He tilted his head. “I wonder what you'll look like when you bleed out.”
“I found the soft spot on the yellow.”
Despite being unable to move, Ashlynn's mind was racing and her blood sped through her veins. The man walked to one of the waiting horses. There, he took a vial of some sort of liquid and poured it on a longsword that was being held out for him. As he put the vial away, the hunter with the sword turned for the dragon and went to the directed spot. Without any hesitation, she drove the sword up and through the tender area, right into the muscles and tendons behind the dragon's right foreleg. She cried out in agony, her painful bellow loud and close enough to not only break the spell on herself but to momentarily sever the hold on Ashlynn as well. Both dragons started to move and thrash at once, and all of the hunters scattered, ordering the second flutist to join in on the song. As soon as he did, once more the great beasts were rendered helpless and flopped back to the ground as captive prey.
Hands began roaming over the lighter colored scales of Ashlynn's underside and panic set in. If they killed her, she would turn back into her human form and it wouldn't be long before everyone found out that the high queen of Siness had been killed. They would also know that Lochlainn was the new Elemental of Earth, and he would become an easy target in this sick game. Lochlainn. She'd never see him again. She'd never see Jaryn again, never have the chance to hold either of them, to tell them how much she loved them no matter the circumstances, or to say a final goodbye.
The familiar snap of a bowstring sounded a split second before one of the hunters beside her cried out in pain and fell to the ground. All of the others turned in alarm as a horse emerged from the woods with a rider on its back already aiming another arrow. Before they could scatter, he loosed it, finding his mark in the calf of another hunter.
“Protect Fleur and Chrys!” someone hollered.
As the archer bore down upon them, he slipped the bow over his shoulder before throwing his leg across the pommel of his saddle and jumping down. In a rush of relief, Ashlynn realized it was Killian. Even as he was surrounded, he was angered and undaunted, drawing his sword and attacking as though he had no fear. Though they far outnumbered him, his skill was greater and he quickly severed tendons and broke bones, injuring beyond ability to keep fighting but never killing, letting them run for the woods with their lives. When the only two left standing were the pipers, he turned to them, pausing to catch his breath and wipe blood that did not belong to him from his face.
“You have two options before you: stop and run away with the rest of your party, or keep playing and wait for them to return with the reinforcements they have no doubt gone to summon.” Killian raised his sword a fraction. “Waiting might not end well for you.”
They looked at one another in nervous, calculating glances. In unison, they dropped their flutes and rushed for the trees. Killian discarded his sword and pulled the bow from his back. He sent several arrows after them, aiming so they would land in the ground just inches behind where they had just been to keep them running without stopping. He bolted to the tree line to peer within to make sure it was safe. Once he was certain, he nodded to Ashlynn and she began to shift.
“Are you all right?” he asked, returning to her as quickly as he could.
The weight of the net was so much heavier in her human form and she felt like she was wading through razor wire. “I can't get out. It's cutting me everywhere.”
“Stay still.” Killian made quick work in cutting the sleeves of his shirt off and wrapping them around his hands. He knelt down, feeling along the ground for the edge of the netting before gingerly lifting and digging, searching for enough clearance to allow Ashlynn passage.
“Almost,” she encouraged, ducking down to see where he had made something of a tunnel. His arms were as cut up and sliced as her face and hands were, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. With enough room to shimmy her way under, Ashlynn was finally free and hurried over to the golden dragon laying on her side in the grass. “Help me get the net off of her.” She went for the ties to the catapult weights this time, pulling them back carefully, pausing each time one of the hooks in the metal netting got caught in the dragon's scales. “This is an evil thing they've made.”
“And highly effective,” Killian complained. He was gentle as he pulled the remaining netting from the dragon's face, then dragged it away from her completely.
The dragon's eyes rolled in her head as Ashlynn approached her, whispering soothing noises each time she whimpered in pain. Killian disappeared around the side of her to examine the wound, grim. “Shh,” Ashlynn comforted, running a hand over the dragon's bony brow ridge. “I'm so sorry. I know it hurts, but you're going to be all right. Help came just in time. You're going to be just fine.”
“Your Majesty.” Ashlynn turned at Killian's voice, all hope she harbored fleeing at his downcast expression. Without his asking, she followed him back around the dragon to see the tiny spot where she had been stabbed with the longsword, the area already festering and blackening at the edges. “They used monkshood. It is extremely poisonous-” He was quick to pull Ashlynn back when she reached up as though to examine it. “-especially once it is in the bloodstream.”
Ashlynn looked up at him in shock. “What do you mean? Why would they do that? They were going to bleed me. One of them said so himself.”
“Likely because they knew this one was a full dragon. The monkshood will kill her quickly. It sears and paralyzes; it suffocates the lungs and stops the heart.” He looked up at the beast, grieved. “They wanted her to die quickly, but they wanted it to be torture while it lasted.”
“No.” She pulled away from Killian and put her hand against the warm scales, feeling the breath of the dragon already shuddering in her body. Angry tears filled her eyes. “No. This isn't right.”
He shook his head. “No, it is not.”
“Nothing can be done? Nothing at all?”
Regretful, Killian looked back to where he'd left his sword. “There is only one thing.”
Ashlynn followed
his gaze and felt a sob catch in her throat. She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to the dragon's neck in as much of an embrace as she could give it. “I'm sorry, my friend.” To Killian, she asked, “Can you do it?” He didn't answer, only walked past her to get his sword. She couldn't look as he returned to the wound and kept her ear pressed to the dragon's body, listening to the way her heart beat was beginning to race and slow, falling into odd patterns. “I should have protected you. That was my duty not only as the high queen of this country, but while I still hold the title of the Elemental of Earth. You fall under my protection. I failed you, and I am sorry.”
Killian was careful as he angled his sword, making sure he aimed for the dragon's heart as he drove his weapon through the festering wound as deeply as he could, taking care not to get any of her blood or the poison on himself. The dragon gave a weak bleat and a shudder, then sagged as the life went out of her. Ashlynn sank to her knees with her head bent, weeping for the second time that day. If she'd felt broken before, her spirit was even more defeated now. Everything she'd tried to escape by coming out here came flooding back, compounding her sorrows. She wanted nothing more than to just sink into the ground and be done with it all.
For a few minutes, Killian left her alone. Soon, however, she felt his hand rest on her shoulder and his fingers squeeze to give her as much comfort as he could. It was one of the few times he had ever touched her when her life had not been in danger, and she knew he mourned over this death as well. He was a Keeper, after all. This must have felt as personal a loss for him as it did for her. For that reason alone, she lifted a hand to cover his as she cried.