By the Embers Dies the Fire

by Tymber Dalton

  Castius looked down at their captive, a cruel smile curling his lips as he reached down and removed the dragon’s gag. Even if she screamed, there was no one close enough by to hear her.

  “’Tis too bad thou must be a virgin for the magick to work,” he said. “I would not mind being thy first, even if thou be a dragon.”

  “I would rather die than have your stench in me!”

  Arctharn grinned. “We can arrange that.”

  His two brothers, Arctharn and Rolawnde, the two youngest of the siblings, were both eager to spill blood. “Watch thee minds,” Castius warned. “She is rare enough.”

  They’d tried three other times to work this magick, and each time were stymied after the fact to discover their captured prey wasn’t a virgin.

  “She must remain intact.” Castius laughed. “Well, her maidenhead, that is. Her flesh won’t remain intact for very long for our purposes.”

  The problem, of course, being they needed a female dragon old enough to have come into her powers, who could shift, who had yet to lay with another.

  Finally, it seemed they’d found one.

  Elglin, the second eldest of them all, and the oldest sister, knelt to get a closer look. “Blood for ink, skin for covers. Aye, ’tis good.”

  They’d received instructions from their father when he spoke to them from the other realm through the ancient veil. He’d told them how to best record the secrets he’d reveal to them as he brought them across, one at a time, to instruct them. Five books, one for each of them lest any of them die, all able to draw from the dark magick within them, able to pass it down to their own kin through the ages, the power unfaded. They would each take a section and write it, copying it for the others. And they would keep themselves pure, lay only with those like them.

  Unlike previous generations, which had interbred too many times with humans, one of the reasons they’d been easily defeated in the Great Massacre of Hilmelgamos. All because of Baba Yaga, because she’d focused her ire on them and tried to deny their race their truth birthright.

  They would show the world. Cockatrice would conquer the Earth realm.

  Grimoire Lilitu. They had finally compiled enough parchment to make all the pages, the ink to mix with the blood, the materials needed to tan the leather and bind the pages.

  All they had lacked before was the final component—a virgin female dragon.

  They had five matching knives, the secret of how to forge them also given to them by their father upon their coming of age. They would have to kill the dragon first, bleed her. The order in which they crossed through the veil wouldn’t matter. The others would stay behind and continue the tanning process once there was enough blood to mix the ink.

  Using the dark amulet around his neck, Castius summoned their father through the veil. “It is time,” he said.

  “Good,” their sire’s voice boomed through from the other realm. “When this is finished, when all five copies of the book are complete, you shall bring another dragon shifter over to this realm for me. Any dragon shifter, as long as they can shift.”

  “Yes, Father. But why?”

  “Because I need to perfect a spell. It is more important for you to do this now, however. I want this done first. Then I shall teach you how to occlude. And then I can cross and lead you through to war and to ascend to your birthright.” He stared at the female dragon. “Do it.”

  They raised their knives as the dragon began to scream.

  * * * *

  If at first you don’t succeed…

  It had meant forming an uneasy alliance with a damned Tanuki to get the job done. To give the thing credit, it had taken a lesson from the Selkies and taught Boorman how to establish and keep a semi-permanent portal open in one protected location so he wouldn’t repeat his earlier mistake of losing too much time between the realms, or lose contact with his offspring.

  A portal the Elders couldn’t sense.

  He gave the Tanuki the glittery gold she craved and needed for her little jaunts around Earth, and in return she helped him round up five of the strongest females remaining from his original bloodline.

  Not that many of them remained, having been wiped out in a stupid battle they rightfully should have won. Hilmelgamos had been an utter failure, much to the Tanuki’s glee.

  He’d also shared a few recipes with the damned Tanuki, another requirement on her part to render her assistance.

  Another reason Earth should belong to his kind, if the dregs there couldn’t even put together a proper curse. These creatures were descended from his line. It should be in their blood by instinct.

  Perhaps the human part of their blood had diluted his genes too much for them to even begin to tap into their special powers.

  Five new women, five offspring carrying his or his brothers’ genes, the latent dragon shifter parts within them that had led to the new hybrid species still strong and fierce.

  These five would be the ones to carry on the line. He would instill in them the knowledge they would need through the ages, knowledge passed down to him and his now-deceased brothers by their ancestors.

  The cocky Tanuki had even told him about the tablet that had brought about the devastation of his blood and their allies. How they’d burned, their power sucked out by magick.

  More work of those damned Elders, no doubt, or ones hand-picked by them.

  He would make sure this world burned and paid.

  If it was the last thing he did.

  Especially since his recent attempt to get personal revenge over the green-eyed one had failed miserably.

  He reached up and touched the fresh scar on his face. He had not expected the Earth woman to fight so fiercely. She must not have been fully human. He had occluded himself as a human for the crossing, and had planned to abduct her, take her to his world, and then impregnate her before sending her back defiled.

  Problem number one, his occlusion spell hadn’t worked as well as he’d thought it would. She’d seen his true nature immediately.

  Problem number two, she’d already been pregnant.

  Problem number three, she’d summoned her soul mate for help, all the while fighting him and nearly killing him before he’d taken her head and barely escaped with his own hide after battling her soul mate. The mate was the one who’d given him the scar.

  The Tanuki’s information had not been as accurate as she’d believed it was.

  He would get his revenge on the green-eyed one.

  Not only would the world burn, but the guardians—the archdemons, as they were now known—those damned children of the Elders, would pay.

  Especially that one.

  * * * *

  A while ago, but very recent in comparison to that very first thing…

  Bertholde sipped her tea as she arched an eyebrow at Baba Yaga. “I am getting the distinct impression you are trying to tell me something.”

  Baba Yaga paced in front of the windows that overlooked the paved path leading out toward Bertholde’s gardens, where the sundial sat.

  “Why are you so stubborn?”

  “My. Pot, meet kettle.”

  Baba Yaga blew out an aggravated breath. “You, my friend, are annoyingly consistent sometimes. You know that?”

  “Why, thank you. Arnost tells me that as well.”

  Baba Yaga stopped and stared at her. “You know my hands are bound. There is only so much I can and cannot do.”

  “I know.” Bertholde smiled at her. “Your words are not lost on me.”

  “Then why are you insisting on—”

  “I have had a very long life. A drop in the bucket compared to yours, I’m well aware. Still, it’s been long.” Her smile faded. “And much of it lonely and full of pain, as you yourself know. I am ready to follow my path wherever it takes me, be it here on Earth, or through the Ether. I have no fear, regardless. My affairs are in order and have been for some time.”

  “I cannot believe you are approaching this so blithely!”

 
; “Why not? Humans are fickle beasts. You’ve said so countless times. I’ve heard you with my own ears.”

  “You are not a human.”

  “Mortals, then, shall we say?”

  Baba Yaga turned to her, hands outstretched.

  Pleading.

  “Can I not say anything to deter you? I know you’ve had visions.”

  “Yes, I have. I’ve seen quite a lot. Events are on the path they need to take. They don’t need my assistance. Dare I say, if I am here, I could perhaps be a hindrance to the success that I’ve seen.”

  Baba Yaga slumped into a chair. “That’s it, then?”

  “That’s it.” Bertholde smiled. “You act as if this is horrible.”

  “It is.”

  “I am choosing this. For a variety of reasons, some of them private. But I will tell you this. What I’ve seen, my death galvanizes them. Sets events in motion that might not otherwise happen. If I avoid this, sure, I could eke out a few more years, perhaps. But why would I want to?” Bertholde tipped her head. “You are acting as if a friend is dying.”

  “I consider you a friend. The closest thing I’ve had to one.”

  “You still have Lacey for a very long while yet, if my visions are correct. And Arnost.”

  “Arnost hates me. I don’t know Lacey a fraction as well as I know you. Plus, Lacey is not fond of me, either.”

  “There is Ryan Ausar.”

  Baba Yaga glared at her.

  “Oh, come now. Two wounded souls. Why not seek out his company? Commiserate? It might do you both some good to share a drink every once in a while. You have so much in common.”

  “His father is an asshole.”

  Bertholde grinned. “Denial, still? After all this time? Well, regardless, his father hasn’t been in control of The Firm for goodness knows how long, and you know that as well as I. Why do you turn your back on your past?”

  Baba Yaga sat back and studied Bertholde, her friend’s emerald green eyes, and her vision narrowed. “What have you seen?”

  She smiled. “Alliances forged. Unlikely…bedfellows.”

  “I am not The Cailleach, nor Brighde. I do not tup anyone who looks my way.”

  “Tup. Such a quaint word.” Bertholde’s smile faded again. “A soul mate. You yourself have loved and lost. You understand all too well the source of my own pain, yet try to talk me out of my chosen path. The Ether has teased and called to me for far too many centuries for me to ignore its siren song any longer. Not when my replacement is adjusting quite well, and quickly, to her new role. New paths lay ahead of me, and I wish to journey upon them. I have no fear of death, only of living countless eons more while wishing for it.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot fault you for that.”

  “Then trust me, please? Try not to be too hard on the new ones coming. They will need to establish their footing.”

  “I…” Baba Yaga sighed. “I bend rules. I admit it. Not that it’s not frowned upon, because it is.”

  Bertholde snorted and set her tea cup aside. “That’s one word for it.” She stood. “I’m surprised that you have been allowed the latitude you have enjoyed for so long.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Your birthright gives you certain…privileges. Give thanks to the Elders for that, at least.”

  Baba Yaga stood and hugged Bertholde. “Good luck, my old friend.”

  “And to you.” She stared up into Baba Yaga’s eyes. “Trust them. They are three strong women who do not yet know their full powers or birthright. Remember, as difficult as it might be, how you three started. Your roots. You had some years of experience over your sisters, but I’ve seen you. Seen the past. Seen the scared girl—what, only eighteen when you received the Call?”

  “Seventeen.” Baba Yaga sighed. “Too damned young.”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  “Here I am. I couldn’t stop one massive genocide, and I’m trying to prevent another.” Baba Yaga suppressed a shudder as she remembered walking through the Nazi death camps, unable to help since it was an Earthly problem of Earthly origin, humans versus humans.

  Evil, but mundane evil.

  When she’d given serious thought to intervening, the Elders had finally yanked her chain, hard, cautioning her against getting involved in strictly mundane human affairs.

  “This time, it’s a genocide that you don’t have to stop. Trust what you have set in motion.” Bertholde finally stepped back. “They are strong, they are good, and they are brilliant.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I’m sure of it. Not saying it’ll be easy. Not at all. But if anyone is to make your prophecies come true, it is them.”

  “My prophecies?”

  Bertholde snorted. “Do not play coy with me. I won’t tell.” Bertholde smiled. “Reygland was a lush. That much I saw.”

  “You Seers. Sometimes, you see too much.”

  “Someone has to keep you Immortals in line, no?” Her green eyes sparkled. “And just wait, if you stick around to watch the generation following this one.”

  “What?”

  Her smile widened. “Ah. Spoilers.”

  “You watch too much Doctor Who.”

  “Hush your mouth. There is no such thing as too much Doctor Who. Give an old woman her pleasures.” Bertholde sighed. “Just wish I would be around to see Capaldi.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind, Jadwiga.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Would you prefer I call you ‘Old One?’ I know for a fact you hate that moniker.”

  “I have no name anymore. Just a mythos.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Inside you still lay the embers of your past, your origins, your life.”

  “Those embers have long since gone cold.”

  “That’s not true. If it were, you wouldn’t be fighting so hard for those three now.”

  “I fight hard now to fulfill an oath I made. One I shall not break. Only then will I consider my work complete.”

  Bertholde studied her. “The Ether calls you, too, doesn’t it?”

  “It always has. For eons. Unfortunately, I doubt I will be allowed to pass so easily as you.”

  “Because of the guilt?”

  “Yes, guilt, but not mine.”

  Chapter Two

  Back to the present…

  At least Elain hadn’t sustained a hangover from her binge drinking at Lacey’s the day before. As she’d nursed Ellie that morning, another wave of guilt swept through her.

  I’m a freaking mom. I can’t just do stuff like that without thinking.

  Yes, she’d had pumped milk ready to go. Yes, Dr. Alberto said shifter babies were usually transitioned to formula—and even solid foods—far sooner than their human counterparts.

  Mostly because of their sharp baby shifter teeth, which came in much earlier than humans, but also because their systems could deal with it.

  Her mom was there at the house, having brought Joss over with her, and was taking care of Connor for Elain. Elain had Ain call Lina and Mai and ask for the morning off from their Triad research to recover from yesterday, which they just thought was because she was tired from the doctor appointment up in Tampa and from poofing up to Maine to bring Jasper down to Florida.

  Not exactly the full truth.

  Elain remained in her room after kissing and making up with her guys for blowing up at them the night before.

  Brodey’s nose, which she’d managed to smack with the front door when she flung it open, was already healed.

  It made her feel worse that he’d given her a playful smile and kiss and hadn’t held it against her.

  Why are these people trusting me with infants? What is wrong with them?

  She stared down into her daughter’s face. Ellie Sulwen Lyall, Ain’s biological daughter, but all three men were her dads.

  Yesterday, Elain had ended the lives of three wolves who had, directly or indirectly, caused or contributed to the dea
ths or molestations of children and adults. Shifter and human alike.

  All three dead men Elain’s own relatives.

  Two of them her father’s brothers.

  And she’d done so with the assistance of a man most of her family wanted dead for the blood on his hands.

  A man she was protecting.

  A man she couldn’t allow to be harmed.

  A man she now held grudging respect for.

  Finally, Elain threw on clothes and carried Ellie out to the living room. Connor and Joss were asleep on a blanket, surrounded on three sides by Juju, Bea, and Jasper.

  Jasper looked up at Elain’s entrance, his head cocked quizzically at her.

  Yeah, he’s another puzzle to figure out, too.

  She’d brought him back from Lacey’s yesterday at Lacey’s request. He was a cockatrice detector, and far more than just an ordinary dog.

  Right now, Elain didn’t have the energy or the brain cells to figure him out, much less perform the mental gymnastics required to dance her way around her men, or Lina and Mai, about the subject. She sank down onto the couch across from the one her mother occupied.

  “Good morning, sweetie. Are you all right?”

  “Not really, no.”

  Her mom got up, walked over, and took Ellie from her. “Go make yourself some coffee. There’s a fresh pot, and I left a breakfast plate in the microwave for you.”

  She looked up at her mom. “How’d Dad take the news?” Her mom knew part of the story, that Liam Pardie’s two brothers—along with a Lyall cousin—had been on Rodolfo Abernathy’s payroll to give him information about Liam’s whereabouts. And some of their misdeeds while alive.

  Her mom didn’t know about Elain’s second trip yesterday, a solo trip, which resulted in the men’s deaths.

  “He wasn’t surprised. Said he didn’t put it past them. He was disappointed, but he’s glad you found that out.”

  “Okay.” Elain remained seated on the couch.

  “Is this where I give you a motherly pep talk?” Carla asked.

  “More like a motherly kick in the ass.”

  Carla sat next to her. “You’re a great mom. You have an important role to carry out. Lacey and I talked while you were gone. I know there are things you can’t tell any of us. It’s okay. But that job doesn’t mean you’re an unfit mother.”