by Raven Storm
“The fire witches have been...contrary lately,” was all Vela said. Astrid shot a questioning eyebrow but didn’t say anything else. Astrid, Vela, Benedict, and Kieran were ready, prepared to venture into the volcano. Ronan needed to heal, still in need of blood and rest. Benedict and Kieran had both emptied a generous portion of blood into cups to help Ronan to kickstart the process. I’d kissed both in thanks, Kieran smiling widely while Benedict huffed, a small dark tinge appearing on his cheeks.
“It is so he doesn’t kill you,” he had insisted, and I gave him a knowing look in return.
Our group stood in a circle, waiting for Benedict so they could set out. I stood next to Astrid defiantly.
“You’re not going.” Benedict immediately stated.
I bared my fangs.
“Like hell I’m not.” I hissed back. His purple eyes glanced at the observing crowd.
“I don’t want to fight you in public.” He hissed.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Then don’t.”
I sauntered away to join Kieran, feeling Benedict’s eyes on my back. He exhaled through his nose, then stalked forward with Astrid, not saying anything further. The mountain loomed at the north end of the island. Kieran bumped up to my side, and I gave him a small smile.
“I bet the island looks different,” I offered, and he sighed.
“Our race and culture are not as they were, so in a way it’s fitting to start over with something completely new—The Lost Siren and the King Who Almost Wasn’t.”
The names jolted against my consciousness, feeling like a second layer of skin that didn’t fit properly.
“What do you mean?” I asked, not knowing much of Benedict’s history. As far as I knew, he’d always been in line to be king.
“Bair was not his only sibling. He had an elder sister, as well. She was in line to rule first.”
Had? I wanted to ask more, but Benedict came up behind us.
“The mountain has many passages we are familiar with—we used to mine it for resources before the war. In Dark Haven, we worried it was our mining which triggered the eruption. It’s comforting to know we weren’t the cause.”
Benedict paused.
“I can simply shadow walk us to the entrance of the tunnel. There is a risk it could be caved in.” He gave a cautious glance at the witches, but Astrid merely flashed him a wicked grin.
“Not a problem if I’m with you.” Vela assured him, and held out one dainty, green hand. “I can instantly sense a barrier of earth and remove it.”
Benedict reluctantly grasped her palm, and Astrid linked from her. Benedict offered his other hand to me, the rough calluses of his palm sliding against the small scales on my skin. I shot him a glance, but he stared resolutely ahead. Kieran slid his hand into mine.
“Now.”
We disappeared into shadows, reappearing in a dark tunnel. The heat was what I noticed first, slapping my face like a physical blow. The air was thick with humidity, and it took me a moment for my breathing to adjust. Vela took in the black, hardened walls around us.
“A lava tube that took the path of an old passage?”
Benedict nodded once, and she clicked her long, black claws together in thought.
“Let’s hope we don’t piss it off again, then.”
Astrid strode forward with confidence, sure to stay one half step ahead of Benedict, who was struggling to keep his frustration and ego in check. I slid beside him.
“Are you alright?”
“I don’t like witches,” he murmured. He walked away, quickly putting distance between us. I frowned.
“Fire demons typically like to stay in the center of the volcano, where the hottest part of the core resides.” Vela lectured as we walked, the ground sloping steadily upward. The tunnel opened into a larger antechamber, with a partial cave-in. We halted in front of it, Astrid frowning as she put on hand on the oddly textured, black rock.
“I don’t think—”
The rock moved, and Astrid leapt backwards as it uncurled, straightening into a creature that filled the entire space of the antechamber.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Astrid chanted under her breath; her hands already raised to ward off any fire.
“Always so helpful,” Benedict taunted, and I smacked him with one wing. The creature had a humanoid shape, but no identifiable features as it’s face and body were covered in hardened magma. Where its limbs bent cracks emerged, fresh lava dripping down and pooling in clumps all over its body. The creature sniffed, turning to face us as we backed into the tunnel we had come from. It gave a low moan as large, almond-shaped eyes flicked open, pitch black in color.
We all held our breath.
“That’s not a fire demon,” Vela gasped, and we backed up further. “They aren’t this big, and they don’t feel so—”
“Wrong.” Astrid finished, her face filled with confusion and fear. We kept moving backward, away from the creature, who had yet to attack us.
“You said it was sentient, so why don’t we ask it?” I added, while Benedict stood rooted to his spot, frozen as he stared. No one answered me, so I tentatively moved towards the creature.
“I said fire demons were sentient, we don’t even know what this is—"
“I’m Wren. What’s your name?”
I flared my wings wide, an instinctual move to make my body appear larger to this unknown predator. I didn’t expect the groaning mass of hardened lava to answer, but it slowly fell to its knees, its hands reaching out for me. I braced myself as it inched closer, then went past me, stopping right in front of Benedict.
The king of the drakens didn’t move as one blacked finger the size of his body reached him and halted. He tentatively laid his palm on top of it. The creature let out a long moan, bits of lava dripping onto the ground around him. Benedict ignored it all, his eyes riveted to the enormous black ones that stared at him with such reverence.
“It knows you,” Astrid commented, her voice filled with wonder.
“It seems so,” Benedict said slowly, patting the monstrous finger in front of him softly. The creature calmed, laying back down on the ground with one eye on Benedict.
“Did you ever have any drakens captured during the Demon Wars?”
Shocked silence filled the cavern, horrible realization settling into our chests. Astrid couldn’t possibly be suggesting that—
“It could have been a botched ritual, or the demons are experimenting with magicks we haven’t even considered.” Astrid paced the confines of the lava tube, her hair askew as she rhythmically ran her hands through it, deep in thought. Her hands deftly braided and unbraided her hair in nervous anxiety. The creature sniffed and murmured happily against Benedict, unnerving the draken king.
“Is it possible the fire and blood witches have been corrupted by the demon hordes? That they are working for the demons and creating these...monsters?” Kieran asked, and Astrid shook out her long mane of hair.
“I don’t want to consider the implications,” she replied. Benedict turned, a determined fire growing in his eyes.
“Demons don’t wield shifting magick, but the blood witches do! It seems awfully suspicious you’ve lost contact with both groups of witches while new creatures attack us and wreak havoc on Dorea!”
“I KNOW THAT!” Astrid roared back, and the creature growled in warning. The walls of the tube shook, the temperature increasing to an almost unbearable level. Benedict flew up to eye level and put a calming hand on the creature’s hardened head.
“This creature was not a draken. A draken would never destroy their own people. They would DIE first!” Benedict argued, even as the large creature sniffed out a trail of embers from its nose, sending them scattering across the floor. Astrid rolled her eyes.
“If a draken was tortured, magicked, then tossed enraged into a volcano, he wouldn’t need to have been conscious of it! His very presence could have set it off! There is no other explanation for why the creature would know you!”
“You
said it was a magical eruption,” I reminded them again, and they went silent.
“A draken wouldn’t murder his own people,” Benedict murmured again, but quietly, as if he were trying to convince himself. The creature let out a sad sound, curling up into a large ball that almost filled the chamber.
“Why don’t we just ask him?” I put forth, thinking it was rude to keep talking about the creature as it wasn’t there. The witches eyed me with incredulity, but I saw a brief flash of gratitude in Benedict’s eyes. I gestured for Benedict to do the honors. He gazed up at those black eyes, and the creature's large palm extended towards him. He stood as the creature raised him to eye level, and he put both hands against the massive forehead.
“What happened to you?”
The large, black eyes roved over them, settling with anger on Astrid. A blackened hand reached out and snatched her into the air, bringing her face right to the creature’s eyes. It turned Astrid upside down and she shrieked as it examined her closely. Then it rubbed ash and soot into the witch’s hair, turning it black while ignoring Astrid’s screams of indignation. When her hair and skin were completely covered, it set her down.
“What the hell was that for?” Astrid sputtering angrily, trying in vain to brush the ash from her hair. I smiled, understanding immediately.
“It told us who did this to her.”
The other air witches winced.
“I assume blood witches have dark hair?”
The witches glared at me, but I merely smirked. I blamed Benedict for picking up on his bad habits.
“Let’s go get a blood witch, shall we?”
Seven
Vela thought the creature in the volcano would be fine if left alone, but Benedict was firm that if there was even a chance it was a draken, then we owed it to him to find a blood witch for an explanation. It took a few days until we were ready to depart, and even then, Benedict insisted that several things had to happen first. The southern valley was a hive of activity—drakens and air witches working together to build while earth witches raced around, raising new vegetation on rotating shifts. The plans were drawn out, favoring treehouse structures with only a few made from stone and mortar to start. The building projects kept everyone busy and filled with purpose, rather than thinking of the army that lurked at the edge of our wards, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness.
Ronan continued to heal, but still experienced lingering weaknesses. A steady diet of blood from the three of us had helped, but he tired easily after working on the rebuilding each day.
“You’re doing what you can,” I insisted, as I saw him easily get frustrated after needing yet another break.
“I want to contribute. I don’t want to be known as the weak mate.”
“Who is saying that?” I demanded, rising to my feet. Anyone who thought Ronan was weak would answer to me.
“Sit down, Wren. It isn’t like that. I just...I know Benedict will likely force me to stay behind when you leave to find the witches. I am more of a hindrance than any help right now.”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated.
“Yes, because to drakens your worth is measured by how much blood you shed.”
He frowned, and I sighed in exasperation.
“Have you considered that Benedict might have a reason for you to stay behind? Someone has to be in charge if he’s gone, don’t they?”
Ronan’s ears perked up, and I hoped I was right. I would hate to give him any kind of false hopes.
“I was surprised when Benedict insisted on going himself, and even more shocked that he is allowing you to go.”
I straightened, raising my chin in defiance.
“He has no choice. If he wants this alliance with the witches to work, he must try. Also, he can’t order me to do anything as his mate. Resistance is useless.”
Ronan laughed.
“Resisting you in any way is futile.” He snagged me around the waist, lifting me up in the air.
“Ronan? Could you help me with something?”
Wyrren’s black scales gleamed under the sunlight, his face drawn in exhaustion. It hadn’t even occurred to me to check on him after the other two elders had sacrificed themselves for the wards. He had to be struggling with the loss of his lifelong friends.
Ronan dropped me lightly to the ground and bounded off to help. I sighed, then spotted Benedict across the valley, shouting a group of drakens who were trying to build one of the first stone houses. I flew over, gliding to his side and waving at the drakens who paused in their work to wave or greet me.
“Are you busy?”
I bumped my wing to his, and he paused in the middle of his tirade. The berated drakens glanced at me with hope in their eyes.
“Not, not at all,” he replied sarcastically, his face deadpanned.
“Great!” I said with a high, cheery voice. I tugged on his arm and pulled him away, leaving the other drakens to get back to work without their king breathing down their necks.
“Put Ronan in charge of the reconstruction efforts.”
Whatever he had expected me to say, it wasn’t that. His eyebrows rose, a thoughtful crease appearing in his forehead.
“It’s not a bad idea. He is highly organized and meticulous.”
I nodded, nervously brushing hair out of my eyes. “I also may have hinted that you had already decided to ask him.”
Benedict leveled an unamused expression at me, and I grimaced.
“I just felt bad he was being left behind while we hunt for the blood witches. He needs something to do to keep busy, and I didn’t want to see him sad. He’s a lot like you that way.”
Benedict made a noncommittal sound in his throat.
“We are alike in that you don’t want to see him unhappy, or that he needs something to do to stay out of trouble?”
Now he was teasing me—a rare occurrence. I pretended to think hard, my brow wrinkling in consternation.
“Both,” I replied, and he rolled his eyes.
“Very well. By the way, your coronation is tomorrow evening. We will leave the following morning to search for the blood witches.”
I stopped short. “What coronation?”
He shot me a look like I was dense. I flinched, reminded of how he treated me when I first came to Dark Haven. He took a half-step towards me, his face softening. If he realized his mistake, he wasn’t about to admit to it.
“You’re my queen,” he said mildly, though his eyes were strangely fierce. “You need a coronation.”
“Of course,” I muttered in reply, feeling foolish. I knew I was technically his queen, but in the chaos of our flight from Dark Haven I hadn’t really thought much of it. Was any of this real? Sometimes I felt as though Crullfed would jump out from behind a tree at any moment, announce this whole thing had been a cruel trick, and drag me back to the breeding manor, cane in hand.
“Is that what you want?”
It warmed my heart that he cared enough to ask, instead of forcing my hand like he would have done only months ago. I closed my eyes, then opened them.
“Yes, it’s fine. It just took me by surprise.”
He smiled, a real one that I rarely saw. His hand found mine and brought it to his lips.
“Thank you. I want to do this for you.” I looked away, embarrassed. He exhaled through his nose.
“I am sorry there are no other female drakens to help you through this. Normally you would spend the day before the coronation with them, being pampered and picking out your clothing and other ceremonial items. I have nothing truly to offer you other than myself, and my people.”
The corner of my mouth twisted into a small smile.
“It’s enough. Truly.”
Benedict nodded, then, looked over my shoulder.
“Good, because I have no responsibility for what’s about to happen next.”
I didn’t have time to protest, because I was immediately accosted by Astrid, Vela, and a pack of their witches. They were grinning in an inappropriately
predatory manner.
“What—”
“I’m off to have that talk with Ronan!” Benedict couldn’t flee fast enough, and I narrowed my eyes at his retreating back.
“Come! We have a lot of work to do!”
Astrid took in my dirty, disheveled appearance, and I snarled back unafraid. I was far from the self-conscious, weak little human girl I had once been. Astrid pointed a finger at my chest, unmoved.
“Quit it. Don’t you want to look good for your mates? I hear they will actually be bathing beforehand the ceremony. We can’t let such lengths go without reward.”
I let her lead me away, my nose wrinkling
“Where? In the ocean?”
Astrid giggled. “I see they haven’t divulged all of the island's secrets to you yet. Probably for the best.”
They led me back through the southern valley, past the drakens hard at work. Many stopped to smile and wave, some of them elbowing each other as I passed. A few even whistled at me. I whipped around; my fangs bared. I ran into an invisible wall of air, courtesy of Astrid.
“Let them have their fun. There hasn’t been a coronation or bonding ceremony in a millennium for them, let alone both at once. They crave normalcy. If that allows them to tease you, it’s a small price to pay.”
“They can have it,” I retorted, “just not on my behalf.”
The witches led me west, over a large expanse of hardened, black land until we reached the western slopes. The ground leveled out, and there were witches with hammers hacking at the magma, sweat dripping down their faces.
“We found it more efficient to crack the magma by hand, then grow from underneath.” I looked past the witches with hammers and gasped as a rich, mature oasis greeted my eyes. Trees and plants that looked like they had been here for decades stood tall and firm, with several ornate tree houses already built and swaying gently in the breeze. A few witches were working on raising another up into a tree’s limbs, while three or four worked together at the bottom, weaving woven mats. The ones left were trying to coax the larger trees to flower and produce fruit. Across from them, others were busy extracting wax from a large, leafy bush to roll into candles.