The Dragon's Storm

by Andi Lawrencovna

  The woman smiled, fangs as sharp and glistening as the khan’s flashed at Ven with the grin.

  In the pool, the Qhoal, the women had marked themselves against Havence’s presence, had pulled away with hisses, cleared a path to the pool as though afraid to be caught in Ven’s stare, except this woman. She’d offered soap, when commanded to do so. She’d been there, one of those who called Ven mad when she trudged from the pool after the dragon’s arrival.

  Unimposing.

  There had been nothing special about her.

  There was little impressive now.

  A woman of a height with Ven. Her skin was perhaps more orange than brown, her markings more precise and detailed as those with money often marked themselves, tattoos that swirled over her skin.

  She wore gloves over her fingers, black and glistening, but that was not—

  Gloves like the prince had worn when he’d helped Ven from the city.

  Just the thought of gloves, because skin shouldn’t, couldn’t, be that shade of black, glimmer with the slickness of scales covering it.

  “It would have been a glorious battle, he versus me. I would have enjoyed peeling his scales from his flesh one at a time, made a coat of armor from them to wear as a tribute to my might. A dragon’s scales protecting a basilisk. It would have been a sight. But your grandmother stole that victory from me. Found a way to trap him beneath the seas, beyond my reach. Such a smart djinn. So very loyal.”

  Not gloves at all. Hands that were covered in black plates like the snakes in the deep sands, claw tipped fingers curling around the bars of the cell. Not tattoos, but the same nearly translucent scales like Ouros bore, the edges tinted midnight instead of blue, the rings more pronounced, more reminiscent of the creature whose form was hidden within the human body she presented.

  “Selish.”

  The snake goddess smiled. “It has been a long time since I walked this world. I thought, with him trapped and gone, that the people would turn to me, would worship me in all things, but you brought him back to life, the dragon to the land, and man bowed down before your silly little sand sculpture. A head to guard the waters. A mirage. And yet they would have loved you for it. Cursed be Selish who hid away the waves when the seas could be returned with the release of the dragon.” The not-woman hissed, tongue snaking between the bars, its split tip vibrating in the air, tasting it, preparing to strike. “I will not be so merciful this time. I will not allow you a chance to save his life again. These people will be mine and no others. I will not share!”

  Ven didn’t understand. Share what? Save his life?

  Shara stepped in front of Havence, pushed her daughter behind her though there was little safety within the confines of the barred cell, spears or swords or any other weapon easily brought to bear against those within the bounds.

  Selish blinked, her black irises so wide that Ven feared falling into the darkness they held. “You should have told your heir the truth a long time ago.”

  “We stopped you from taming the storms then. We will now too.”

  “You buried them beneath the waves. Even if he is forgiving, he has been absent a very long time from this world of ours, djinn. And you and your line have grown weak in his absence. You will not have the chance to hide him again. I will ensure it.”

  The goddess’ body shifted, not like the shifting of form through fire that Ouros endured. This was something different, something grotesque, her body breaking and reforming as she forced her way between the bars of the cell. Her head flattened, the pattern of scales on her forehead expanded, the dark hair she’d boasted falling away to leave in its place the diamond formations of black and gold to cascade down her neck and shoulders.

  “Don’t look into her eyes, Ven. She’ll trap you if you look into her eyes.”

  Like the king’s gaze.

  But Ven was already staring.

  She couldn’t move to stop the basilisk when Selish raked her hands across Shara’s throat.

  Havence’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, unable even to scream when her mother fell to the ground, the rich scent of warm blood filling the air between them, soaking into the sands, flowing around Ven’s feet where she stood.

  Strong blood, powerful blood.

  Selish grabbed Ven’s neck, fingers wrapped where the prince’s hand had held her to the sands.

  The poison of her touch burned fiercer than the phai’s.

  Her snake’s tongue struck out, tasted Ven’s cheek. “You bear his scent, little witch. Not yet for you. You’ll have another use before you die.”

  Ven wanted to fight. She wanted to mourn. She wanted to rail against the beast standing before her, no goddess. A goddess should protect and serve her people, but Selish wanted only power, the fate of those forced to worship her irrelevant.

  So many things she wanted to do, but Ven couldn’t look away, and even when the basilisk broke their stare, Ven was held in the creature’s will, able to blink but no more.

  A tear trailed down her face and fell into her mother’s blood.

  All this to save the woman, and Ven had damned them both.

  And Ouros…

  “Stake her between the posts. The dragon will come for her. She is his mate.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The sands smoothed, the body of the snake beneath the gold slipped deeper into the ground, no hint that it lingered beneath the surface, a lie to tempt the unwary.

  Ouros watched from overhead, knew the trap being set before him, could feel it in his bones.

  The doors to the citadel opened and five men emerged dragging between them two bodies, one a corpse whose flesh had not yet cooled, the other drenched in the first’s blood, frozen in her suffering to watch the woman tossed unceremoniously onto the sands while she was fit between two posts, her arms outstretched and spread wide, a vulnerable target, both in person and to any who would go to her aid.

  His eyes were sharp.

  He could see the pain and the suffering in her gaze.

  He could see the golden striations snaking through her blue stare, the basilisk’s will stealing her own, a puppet to be played, unable to think for herself.

  The winds picked up, sands swirling to open a great serpent’s mouth, the stinging granules that consumed his witch in their maw, a warning of what was to come if he did not save the girl first, what he would face when he made the attempt.

  They had fought, over the centuries.

  Two creatures given control over the elements, of course they had fought to see whose strength was the greater between them.

  Eons ago, and he’d thought himself always the victor, until he was imprisoned, and Selish roamed free.

  He’d forgotten it had always been about her desire for power.

  He’d never desired the same.

  The snake and the dragon.

  The sand god against the storms.

  All he wanted was the woman.

  Selish could have this desert cursed island and her blasted citadel.]

  And now she had him trapped from Havence.

  There was no area large enough where he could land in his true form, not and still have room to maneuver.

  A dragon against a poisoned spear, without a place to spread his wings, was easy picking.

  He had no desire to take the risk, just as he knew that the moment he shifted forms, that his flesh became human soft, the snake would strike as quickly and end him all the same.

  Her game was well considered.

  And the longer he waited, the longer he flew overhead, rain and snow mixing to fall upon the ground, sand and dust swirling to block out the same, the only one who suffered was the woman he most wanted to save.

  Ouros roared, a plume of fire bursting from between his lips to color the dark sky red.

  The sand storm below stilled in response before rearing its head to spear against all in its path.

  He smelled blood.

  Ven’s blood.

  Selish’s fury takin
g its toll.

  I just want the girl!

  He sent the thought into the ether, hoped that the snake would hear his words as she had when they were young creatures walking the earth, bound in their uniqueness to each other until man came and chose to bow before him instead of her.

  Come and get her then.

  Selish. I do not want to fight you for her life.

  The serpent hissed and Ouros’ lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl at the sound. I do though.

  He watched the sands move, even through the storm, he watched as the serpent’s coils drew tighter around the pillars, the diamond head a living thing buried just beneath the surface, waiting to strike against the woman held between them.

  The snake rose, sand falling away as the beast uncoiled.

  She shook her head, neck rippling as her hood expanded, the black eyes on the golden scales winking at Ouros flying overhead. Selish towered over Ven as she stared into the sky, fangs as long as one of the human’s arms exposed and dripping, ready to strike.

  He couldn’t stop himself, had no choice.

  Ouros roared and dove.

  Selish sprang, not towards Ven who was vulnerable to attack, but into the air to meet his strike, body launching high to coil around his neck when he approached.

  She had fangs at her defense, her scales coated in the poison itching to pierce his hide.

  He had claws and wings and even as she reared back to strike, tried to tangle her body around his strut and ground him, Ouros forced himself higher into the air, raking at her exposed belly with his claws while her fangs chipped against his scales.

  The basilisk hissed when she could not pierce his neck. She coiled tighter around his body and his breath caught when his ribs broke to the pressure, unable to breathe fire when she forced the air from his lungs.

  Black drops of her blood scattered on the sands below, not enough to suggest a mortal wound.

  Ouros tipped his struts back and climbed high into the sky, allowed his wings to be ensnared in her coils, drawn tight to his body, their ascent slowing, the fall all that waited between them.

  He could not claw her deep enough to kill and she could not poison him for the same reason.

  But he could fall, and she was beholden to him in flight. She would break upon the ground same as him.

  Storms, let him crash far enough from Ven’s bindings that she was spared in the assault.

  The black coils around his chest loosened, the hissing over the horns atop his head grew loud.

  You fool. We will both die!

  Then we both die and are done with this fight.

  Selish wrapped her tail around his left side, tried to force his wing from its tight pinion to his back. The ground grew closer until he could see the tiles of the roofs drawing near.

  She screamed, snake and woman, the sound more piercing than her fangs against his scales.

  Her weight fled him, and the snake struck the roof of a building below, her body unable to grip at the slates, falling from the rafters to disappear between tenements.

  He was untethered from her coils.

  He could only pray that she was as injured in the fall as he was bound to be, no room to spread his wings to their full width, barely enough to glide between—

  Fire spewed from between his lips when the poison tipped spear tore through his struts, the soldier unnoticed, hiding on a balcony while Ouros passed by, too concerned with crashing to be wary of other threats.

  Basilisk venom burned through the membrane, turned black the sensitive skin which not even Selish had dared touch.

  He turned to protect his injured side, knew the fall would be worse without one wing to aid in his descent.

  Ouros watched the second spear spin from out of a darkened window, golden eyes shining bright as the metal head of the weapon pierced his more vulnerable belly scales, slipped between the overlapping plates to strike deep, succeeding where Selish’s attack had failed.

  Fire burned in his veins, the venom lacing the metal rushing through him in a wave, sped along by the mad, pained beating of his heart..

  When he struck the earth, it wasn’t as a dragon, though the fall still failed to kill him.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Ven watched in a daze as Ouros was dragged before her.

  Her beautiful dragon was broken.

  Whatever they had used to take him from the skies had done its work well. Black swirls decorated his pale skin, lines that snaked through his veins, poisoning where they touched, dulling the strength of the beast within.

  Blood flowed freely from the wound in his side. She couldn’t see all of it, couldn’t tell its depth or length.

  There was no salve to save a wound like that.

  No amount of stitches that could patch it back together.

  The phai was grinning when he dropped Ouros before Ven’s chains. “Now you both die.”

  She would have snarled, wanted to snarl, to pretend to fight, like she had some fight left, but what was the point?

  The prince was right.

  She should never have returned to the city.

  Her mother…

  Shara might have survived if she’d not returned; the khan might have taken mercy or released her after a time. Shara might have regained her strength, her freedom.

  All Ven had done was ensure the woman’s death with her own.

  No tears.

  No more tears to shed and to waste, not in offering to a sand serpent.

  That was it though…

  Selish stepped from behind the khan, hands clutched behind her back, a smile on her face, fangs overhanging her lower lip. “There it is. Understanding dawns bright before you.” She cupped Ven’s chin, eyes flaring bright yellow, the irises receding from the black pits they’d been to a more human appearance, releasing Ven from thrall.

  Havence’s lips parted and she spit at the monster before her. “Ouros made this land a living, breathing thing of greens and blues and colors that you couldn’t stand. He was destroying the desert with his storms, and you couldn’t survive without the sands to call home.”

  “I had desert to live in, enough to survive, but he had more, and that I couldn’t abide. I was the eldest, the firstborn! This land was mine, but he took it from me.” The goddess turned and backhanded her injured foe.

  Ouros fell to the ground, hands splayed at his sides, red blood pooling beneath him. His eyes closed, mouth opened on a gasp. He tried to curl around himself, but Ven watched him, could see the pain he was in, too much pain, too many injuries, not just the ones made by weapons.

  He’d fallen.

  He would have come as a dragon, and he would have fallen from the skies if Selish, when, Selish attacked him.

  The goddess kicked Ouros in the side and Ven cried out in reaction to his suffering.

  “Stop! Stop it, please!”

  Selish laughed, but her laughter bought Ouros a moment free of pain.

  “Let me kill her, Goddess, I beg you. Let me end her life.”

  “Be silent, Emery. Her magic is still useful to us.”

  It didn’t matter.

  Selish turned to stare at the two men, king and son, arguing over getting to kill Ven, and all Ven could do was look at Ouros.

  His face was turned towards her, one hand covering the wound on his side, the other stretched towards her leg, reaching for her though he was too far away.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head, grimaced, though his lips tried to turn into a smile as he stared at her. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

  There was so much she needed to tell him, she needed to explain.

  “Amece—”

  “Oh yes, make sure to explain it all to him. He desperately needs to know he wasn’t betrayed in the moment before he dies…” Selish motioned and her khan and prince moved to lift Ouros between them, put him on his knees, the king’s fingers tangling in the matted strands of blond hair and pulling the dragon’s head ba
ck to expose his throat.

  Emery pulled a knife from his hip, drew the blade across his skin, coating the steel with his blood before he placed it against Ouros throat, the acrid scent of burnt flesh rising in the air between them.

  “Not yet, my child.” The snake reached out and pulled the prince’s blade away, held the knife in her black scaled hand as she turned to look at Ven, moved to stand between her and the dragon. “I am a creature of fire and venom, vulnerable only when taken from my lands. But these are all my lands now,” she moved the knife to Ven’s chest, pressed the tip of the blade through the threadbare clothing Ven had taken from Ouros’ cavern. “I have won.”

  “We were never battling.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “You weren’t. I have always been. There can only be one ruler of every land, brother.”

  Brother?

  “Brother?”

  Selish shook her head. “Pathetic. Mother should have let me eat you in your shell.”

  Havence couldn’t see Ouros’ face. The way he spoken of not remembering his parentage, the disbelief she heard in his voice now…she could imagine the shock on his face, likely a match to her own. He’d never spoken of other dragons, or family.

  The snake turned her attention back to Ven, the black of her eyes expanding once again, trying to ensnare.

  Ven felt it this time, gave it her concentration, the way the goddess’ power tried to wrap around her mind, sink fangs into her consciousness, bind it to her own. It was a source of magic, much like Ouros vast abundance of the same housed within his body, the way Ven could call on blood to do her bidding.

  She did the same, formed a wall within her mind, thick enough that sharp teeth couldn’t penetrate.

  Selish frowned.

  Ven held the veil in place, kept it strong against the woman’s stare.

  “You learn quickly, witch. But not quickly enough.”

  The knife struck out, and Ven closed her eyes, expecting to feel the sting of steel against her flesh, the cut of the knife over her exposed neck.

  Her arms dropped, and she fell forward, struck the ground hard, barely caught herself on her hands.

  The sand was wet between her fingers.