by G. A. Aiken
Knowing that would mean a solid hundred years if Glebovicha had her way—and she would—Elina did something she’d never done before. She said, “No.”
Elina heard Kachka’s quick, surprised intake of breath, and saw the grin that spread across Ivanova’s face.
And in that moment, she realized she’d gone too far.
Glebovicha got to her feet and stepped over the pit fire in the middle of the hut. As she moved in, Elina tried to step back, but Ivanova grabbed her shoulder and held her in place, which was when Kachka stepped in front of her. Ready to defend Elina as she’d been doing since they were children. But Glebovicha expected that and she backhanded Kachka out of the way with a hand still holding greasy pieces of lamb.
Elina understood fully then. She hadn’t simply gone too far here. No. To her horror, she’d given Glebovicha exactly what she’d always wanted. Something that she’d hoped a ridiculous quest to kill the Dragon Queen would eliminate the need for. It hadn’t, so now Glebovicha was taking it upon herself . . . and Elina had given her all the reasons she needed to justify whatever she did next.
Understanding that fully, Elina was about to run, to try to escape her fate. She pulled away from Ivanova, but before she could turn, Glebovicha kicked Elina in the center of her chest, sending her flying out of the hut to land hard on the ground.
Celyn slapped off the fourth hand that had grabbed his ass in the last ten minutes. He’d never thought he would tire of female attention, but he had to say, being pawed like some piece of meat, as if he were being judged at a horse auction, did get tiring quite quickly. And he was moments from making that sentiment clear when he heard flesh hit flesh. He turned and saw Elina fly backward out of the tent she had disappeared into only minutes before.
She landed hard, the wind knocked out of her, but she was still trying to get to her feet.
Celyn rushed forward to help, but a rope was wrapped around his neck from behind, yanking him back.
“Where you go, pretty man?” a female voice said from behind him. He glanced back and saw what he could only call a very large female Rider standing there, leering at him.
With his hands grabbing hold of the rope, he looked to the tent and saw a woman walk out of it. And gods. What exactly were they feeding these women? This one was unbelievably huge! Celyn came from a family of She-dragons who were known for their substantial size when human . . . and he’d guess this female was bigger than any of them. She was tall and wide, muscles straining her deerskin shirt.
And this behemoth was coming at Elina.
All work stopped, and the Riders stood around staring. Not helping, just waiting to see what would happen next.
Celyn couldn’t do the same. He jumped forward but was yanked back again by the rope around his throat. The rope that, in his shock, he’d forgotten about. He was reaching to remove the damn thing when additional ropes by other women were looped around both wrists, yanking his arms away from his body.
Two additional Riders now held onto him. “Leave it, pretty man,” one of the Riders told him. “It is too late for Elina Shestakova. But not for you. You will make fine husband for one of us. You will give us very fine, large girls to carry on our names. Perhaps it will be me,” she growled at him. “But do not worry. I will give you fine ride, then pretty things to make you happy.”
Dammit. Celyn had been right all along. He would be doing very bad things today. . . .
Desperate and terrified, Elina struggled backward, using her elbows and feet as Glebovicha bore down upon her.
“You fail me!” Glebovicha roared. “You continue to fail me! And now you tell me what you are going to do? As if you have a right!”
“Please,” Elina begged, still trying to get away, but unable to get to her feet fast enough. “Please!”
“You are nothing! Nothing! Do you hear me, Elina Shestakova! Simply a mistake that will now be corrected so the mighty horse gods can drag your worthless carcass to the next world—and out of mine!”
Elina raised her hand to ward Glebovicha off. “Gods, don’t!”
But it was useless. Completely useless. All the begging, all the attempts to get away. She knew that as soon as Elina saw Glebovicha raise her arm, the blade she was holding glinting bright in the suns, seconds before it slashed down at an angle and cleaved across Elina’s face.
Elina screamed out in pain and shock, one hand slapping over the left side of her face while her free arm still tried to drag herself back. Her desire to live overriding her need to be brave.
Glebovicha came at her again, but Kachka charged out of the tent and landed on Glebovicha’s back with one arm around her throat. Her sister raised a blade but before she could strike it home, Ivanova yanked Kachka off and threw her a few feet away.
Free from Kachka’s grasp, Glebovicha came at Elina again. This time, however, Elina scrambled to her feet, even though she was now blinded by the blood pouring down her face. It didn’t matter. All she could think about was getting away or at least fighting until her last breath. She knew she should welcome death. She’d never beat Glebovicha in a fight. But she couldn’t. She simply wasn’t ready for that last horse ride home.
She swung wildly at Glebovicha, punching her in the face. It was a good, solid hit, but it did nothing more than piss the larger woman off. Glebovicha caught hold of Elina’s long hair and yanked her around, nearly pulling the locks from the root.
“Elina!” she heard Celyn yell. She’d forgotten about him, but she could barely see where he was through the blood-covered haze.
“Elina!” he yelled again, but this time his voice was lower, more powerful. And there were screams and cries of warning from her tribesmen as the winds of her beloved Steppes increased tenfold and flame surrounded Celyn and all those close to him.
None of this would deter Glebovicha, though. She was too determined to kill Elina. She forced Elina to her knees and pressed her blade against Elina’s throat.
“Dragon!” someone screamed out. “Get the defenses! Move!”
“Don’t hope, pathetic worm,” Glebovicha warned Elina. “This demon you brought will not save you.”
Elina already knew that. So she closed her eyes and, finally, waited for death not to find her well.
Kachka Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the Midnight Mountains of Despair in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains looked up in time to see the male that Elina had brought with her suddenly surround himself with flames, burning the tribesmen who held him back from protecting her sister.
But as Kachka got to her feet, she saw that the flames were not the work of a warlock of some kind. Instead, the man turned into a dragon, with big wings and a long, thick tail, swiping a clear path around him, tossing off and away the tribesmen who had not been burned.
Yet as he took to the air, she knew he’d never reach her sister. Not fast enough. So Kachka ran at Glebovicha again.
Ivanova stepped in front of their leader, who had Elina on her knees and that blood-covered blade about to open her throat. Still, Kachka ran straight at them both, her own dagger in her hand. But, as she neared, she moved one way and, when Ivanova moved the same way to block her, Kachka quickly jerked in the opposite direction. Her body spun to avoid Ivanova’s grasping hands.
Kachka quickly tossed her blade into her other hand and cut her bitch cousin across the gut as she did so.
With Ivanova temporarily out of the way, Kachka was able to ram into Glebovicha before she could draw the blade all the way across Elina’s throat. They hit the ground and Kachka punched her leader in the face three times.
With Glebovicha stunned, Kachka looked for the dragon. Of course, he wasn’t hard to find, flying low over the camp in all his massive, scaled glory.
“Take her!” Kachka yelled up at the dragon. “Take her and go!” she screeched.
Black talons came down and snatched Elina up, his wings sending dirt, dust, and air swirling around them all.
Then his great black wings lifte
d him and he headed off with Elina.
Kachka watched until she sensed movement behind her. She jerked to the side and off Glebovicha as Ivanova’s blade barely missed her.
“Traitor!” Ivanova accused.
And, as Kachka stood tall, the mare she’d bonded with years ago galloping straight for her, Kachka said the only thing she could think of at the moment: “Fuck you.”
Without even needing to look, just using the sound of the mare’s hooves, Kachka reached out her hand and, as the horse moved by, grasped her mane.
The power of the mare dragged Kachka until she could use her legs to launch herself up and onto the back of the horse. Using its mane, she turned the mare and urged her off in the direction the dragon was heading.
Because she knew . . . this was not even close to over.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Celyn had no idea what was going on. He just knew that he was removing a bleeding Elina from his talons with his tail so that he could place her on his back.
“Elina?” he called out. “Elina? Can you hear me, luv?”
She groaned and made a gurgling cough but didn’t answer.
Celyn briefly thought about setting down so he could get a better look at her wounds, but when he looked at the land beneath him, he saw Elina’s sister riding hard across the Steppes. And, behind her, a battalion of Riders coming after them all.
No. He couldn’t set down now. So he continued on, trying at the very least to put some distance between him and those Riders.
For the first time, he saw the true benefit of the small horses the Riders used. Their speed and stamina . . . phenomenal. He’d outraced horses before, but he could not shake these bastards. None of them. Even worse, he could feel blood dripping against his scales. Blood from Elina.
Celyn began to panic. Panic so intense that he almost called out to his family. But what would be the point of that? They were thousands of leagues away and would only get there in time to retrieve his body.
No. He was in this alone. He’d have to fight alone. But he was Cadwaladr, and Cadwaladrs never backed down, never gave up.
Celyn felt a tug, his entire body jerking a bit in midair. He glanced around, saw no ropes holding him.
Then he felt another tug. And another. One more.
The last one so powerful, Celyn was yanked off course and pulled in a direction he was unfamiliar with.
Desperate, he tried his best to pull his body back, but something had hold of him.
Celyn looked down and saw that the Riders had turned with him. Elina’s sister still rode ahead and he watched in awe as she turned at the waist and unleashed arrow after arrow at the Riders behind her. He counted six shots that she made—and each one took out a fellow Rider.
Watching the last Rider fall, Celyn also saw that several of them had raised their bows in his direction. Normally, that wouldn’t worry him much. But this time, he could see, even from this distance, that the arrows they were about to unleash were vastly different from normal ones. The heads larger and made of glinting steel.
“Shit.” Celyn again tried to redirect his body, but the power that held him had yet to unleash him.
Three of those arrows rammed into his body, one in the underside of his tail, two on his hips.
Even worse than the pain these arrows caused was the fact that each arrow had a rope attached. The Riders who held the ropes turned and rode toward a small group of short, but sturdy ancient trees, where they wrapped the ropes around the bases of the largest ones.
Celyn kept going until he hit the end of the ropes. One arrow tore out on impact, taking a chunk of flesh and scales with it. But the other two ropes yanked him back. He spun, trying to pull away.
Several of the Riders quickly dismounted and grabbed hold of the ropes—then they began to pull.
Instead of continuing his fight, Celyn decided to wait until he was close enough for his flame to burn all those near.
He was about fifty feet from the ground when he took in a large gulp of air.
The Riders cheered each other on in that language Celyn now regretted not learning, but they were so focused on him that they’d forgotten about Elina’s sister. She’d looped around and attacked from behind, unleashing arrows on those holding the ropes.
Six of the Riders went down. Then another six. By then, though, the Riders who were still on horseback charged the woman. Using only her knees, she steered her horse away, again turning in her seat to shoot more arrows behind her.
The distraction allowed Celyn to get in close and unleash his flame. Screaming, the Riders holding the ropes released their grip, trying in vain to stop the fire that now covered their burning bodies.
Using the tip of his tail, Celyn slashed the last two ropes. Suddenly released, his body flipped back toward the ground, his tail managing to catch hold of Elina’s unconscious body before she was tossed off.
Celyn crashed into the ground, rolling over and over across the grassy land until he clipped a big boulder and spun around, landing on his belly, his arms and legs spread out so that he was sure he resembled a flat star.
Looking up, Celyn watched Elina’s sister ride toward him.
“Get up!” she screeched at him. “Get up now, dragon!”
He placed Elina on the flat top of the boulder just as Riders began to move in close.
Elina’s sister jumped off her horse, her hands still holding the bow, her quiver still full of arrows, but how long could they last? Unless they were magickal.
He doubted they were magickal.
Standing in front of the boulder to protect her sister, the woman ordered, “Stand beside me, dragon. We may meet death this day, but we will take many of my comrades with us first.”
Panting a bit, Celyn observed, “I see you have as positive an outlook as your sister.”
“Positive? We are outnumbered. Trapped. Soon . . . we will be surrounded and hacked to death. But,” she added, “death will welcome us, for we will bring him many on this day.”
That was great and all . . . but honestly, Celyn would rather he and Elina survived. Surviving was good. Planning for death . . . less good.
The Riders stopped, making sure they were out of range of Kachka’s arrows and his flames. One of the older Riders, a male, called out something to Elina’s sister.
“What did he say?” Celyn asked her.
“He told me that I have betrayed my tribe for my weak sister and lizard with wings. For that, I will die, too.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Celyn replied. “And I’m not a lizard.”
Elina’s sister stared at him a moment. She had eyes just like Elina’s. “That is what keeps you up at night?”
“Sometimes . . . yeah.”
She frowned, shook her head. “I do not understand why you did not out-fly them. Why did you turn? You could have lost them in the mountains, but stopping here with the mountains at our back . . . ? We are doomed.”
“We are not doomed and it’s not my fault,” Celyn argued. “Something caught hold of me.”
“I saw nothing until my fellow Riders took you down with their arrows and rope.”
“It wasn’t . . . a human thing. It was . . . magickal.”
The woman let out a very long sigh. “I see. . . .”
“Really! I swear. It was something—”
“Stop. I can hear no more of your tales of spells.”
She focused back on her fellow Riders. “Besides . . . it is time to die.”
Unwilling to let that happen, Celyn did the only thing he could think of. “Take her.”
“Take . . . what?”
“Take Elina. Take her and go.”
“She is dying.”
“I don’t care if she’s dead. Get her and yourself out of here.” He focused on the Riders about to charge. “I’ll deal with them.”
“Riders know how to fight dragons. They are not frightened by you. They will destroy you.”
“Stop arguing with me and just go.”
“You will die to protect my sister?”
“It is not my ultimate plan, but if it means that, then yes. I will. Now go!”
The woman walked toward the boulder Elina lay upon but stopped short, her eyes narrowing.
Celyn turned his head, expecting to see the Riders charging toward him, but they weren’t moving. They, like Elina’s sister, were simply staring. At a woman.
Fur covered her from head to foot, but Celyn would guess that she was indescribably, outstandingly beautiful. How did he know all that without seeing her? By the way she moved.
Celyn had no idea where she’d come from, but at this moment, she walked between the two groups without bothering to look at either. When she was right at the center, she slowly turned to face the Riders and pulled her hood back.
Celyn still couldn’t see her face, but he knew her. Knew her power. Knew her beauty. Knew exactly what she could do.
“Cover your sister,” he ordered the woman, impressed at how she immediately dove onto Elina, using her body to cover her.
Princess Rhianwen, Daughter of Talaith and Briec, raised her delicate hand in the air, moving it in a gentle circle. And Celyn watched, shocked, as dark energies that lurked in the squat trees and bushes, the earth and rocks immediately came to her, pouring into her hand like rainwater until Rhian could take no more.
Then she clenched her hand into a fist.
Celyn faced the boulder that Elina and her sister were on and placed his claws on either side of them. He unfurled his wings, using his entire body to protect them and turned his head so he could see Rhian.
With her fist still in the air, she chanted something, the wind around her picking up, the horses that the Riders were on suddenly, perhaps for the first time, beginning to panic, fighting their riders and each other to back away as quickly as possible.
Rhian went on her toes and then, swinging her arm down, she crouched and rammed her fist against the earth.