Firedrake

by Bianca D'Arc

  “Good. We can work with that. But for now” Gryffid turned back to the other two who sat at his table, “I wonder why you two are here.” His mood turned pensive.

  “I suppose Herorthor’s actions play into your destiny somehow.” He gazed at Krysta searchingly. “You liked dragons before, but now you can bespeak them. That will change things. You may be able to put your skills to good use in the Lair and in the coming battle. If it comes to pass. Perhaps that is your reason for being here.” Gryffid raised one eyebrow in her direction. “But you” he turned to Mace, “puzzle me.”

  “That is not my intent, sir.”

  Gryffid laughed at Mace’s steadfast tone. “Oh, I believe you, Sir Knight. You’ve always played by the rules. You’ve worked hard to earn your place and you deserve it, but you’ve left joy behind somewhere. I think perhaps your new companions will teach you where to find it again though, so not to worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried.” Mace’s dry tone wasn’t lost on anyone. He was clearly uncomfortable with the wizard’s scrutiny.

  Gryffid sighed. “Ah, well, I will ponder your presence here, Sir Mace. I like puzzles and you represent a fine one. Now…” he turned to address Jenet, “…I assume you’ve checked William over from head to toe and are satisfied he is the boy you knew.”

  “I don’t understand how, but it is Wil, just older.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Gryffid waved one hand in a negligent motion. “I accelerated time. Or rather, I let a bit of it catch up. This island is my refuge, but even a wizard cannot live forever. So when I went into exile, I slowed time on this island. I have lived only a few decades while centuries have passed in the outside world. When I sent for Wil, I let time flow again—just a bit faster than it does outside my island’s boundaries so we would have more time together. Still, it’s barely enough, but it will have to suffice.”

  “Time to do what, exactly?” Krysta asked.

  Gryffid sat back. “To train him, of course. Wil has a destiny unlike any of his brothers. He will rule a far-off land, though I haven’t told him this. I didn’t want to burden him with the weight of his future. But I tell you now, so you’ll understand my reasons for taking him.”

  “Nothing excuses kidnapping a boy and mortally wounding two dragons and knights,” Mace pointed out in his quiet way.

  “My apologies.” Gryffid looked troubled as his eyes met Drake’s. “I am truly sorry for what the hirelings did to effect Wil’s capture. It was never my intent to harm anyone, especially not your fathers or their dragon partners. I hope you will accept my deepest regrets.”

  “If any of them die as a result of your meddling—”

  Drake didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Gryffid held up one hand, forestalling his angry words. “I can assure you, they are all well. Ren and Lilla made it to the Border Lair and were treated for their injuries. They will fly back to the castle shortly for reunion with Declan, Arlis and your mother. Oh, and you should know, I turned time to flow naturally once more on this island. You won’t suffer the same effects of crossing my time barrier when you fly away from here. The outside world will not have aged much from when you left it and none of your family, Drake, suffered permanent injury, though it was a close thing.”

  “You’d better be telling the truth,” Krysta warned.

  “I have no reason to lie. Even if Drake here knew the full extent of his magic and how to wield it, he still could not damage me. He has only an echo of Draco’s power, while I am a wizard.” No conceit filled his words, just simple truth.

  For the first time, Drake laughed at the absurdity of it all. There he was, sitting at a wizard’s table, chatting. There weren’t supposed to be any wizards left in the world. They’d all been killed or exiled after the wars they had caused. But now, here was one of the ancient ones, still meddling in the affairs of man. Drake wondered how many others were still out there, quietly plotting. It was a frightening thought.

  Everyone was watching him, but Drake couldn’t fight off either the laughter or the fear. Relaxing back in his chair, he reached out for Jenet, the warm, reassuring heat of her grounding him.

  “I’m sorry. This all just strikes me as rather odd. The youngster we were sent to retrieve is now a man. I’m suddenly a mage—and a knight—sitting having a chat with a wizard.”

  “Put like that,” Krysta said with a rueful chuckle, “it is a bit much.”

  Only Mace didn’t smile of those seated around the table.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was a bustle at the large doorway and moments later a striking woman entered the hall. She was stripping off her gloves as she approached with a wide smile on her lovely face.

  “Ah, they’ve come then. Welcome, all of you!”

  Gryffid stood and kissed the lady’s cheek in greeting. “Let me introduce my granddaughter, Gwen. Gwen, this is Krysta, Drake and Mace. The beautiful lady behind Drake is Jenet and I bet you saw Nellin on your way in, didn’t you?”

  She smiled brightly. “It’s why I came back early. A strange dragon above Gryphon Isle is a curious sight indeed.”

  The men stood and bowed formally to the lady as Krysta watched. The girl was about her age, she judged, with golden-blond hair and an angel’s face. Krysta wanted to hate her for her perfect beauty and the attentiveness of her new mates, but Krysta found she couldn’t. This Gwen seemed to have no idea of her effect on the men and, as Krysta watched carefully, did nothing to encourage it.

  Still, the way their eyes followed the other woman’s every move annoyed Krysta. Her toe started tapping in agitation, but other than that, she kept her face schooled to calmness. It wouldn’t do to let them see how jealous she was.

  “I was out hawking, but it was growing dark, so I headed for home. Then I saw the dragons in the distance.” The blond beauty walked to the fireplace and the waiting gryphons. She smoothed their neck feathers with obvious fondness as she threw her cloak and gloves over a nearby chair. “We seldom have visitors.” She almost looked sad for a moment, but Krysta decided it must’ve been a trick of the flickering firelight. “I’ll go down to the kitchens and see about dinner. I’m sure the entire keep knows about our visitors by now, of course, but I’ll ask them to serve dinner a bit early. I can see you’re all tired from the crossing.” Her sympathetic gaze alighted on each one of them, ending with Krysta. A little nod of understanding passed between the women, and Krysta suddenly realized the other girl wasn’t totally oblivious to the effect she had on males of the species. Without waiting for comment, Gwen left.

  Krysta had seen her kind of magic before. Every few generations, a Jinn woman would be able to channel her magic in such a way as to affect each and every male around her. Most thought it a fable, but Krysta knew from firsthand experience how dangerous a magic it really was.

  She’d known just such a girl in her clan. The beauty had every man in the clan panting after her, but they protected her as well. She inspired fierce loyalty in every male she met, but that girl’s selfish nature had nurtured hatred from the other women. She brought divisiveness to a clan that had always been fiercely loyal to each other. Finally, the leader decided marriage to a reclusive nobleman would be the best solution. The girl had to be exiled for the good of the clan, but she didn’t mind. She became a duchess and quickly put her new, rich husband under her spell, along with all the menfolk in his domain.

  This Gwen didn’t seem selfish in the least, but Krysta was reserving judgment. She would watch and listen closely. She didn’t quite fear losing her bonded mates to the beauty, but she certainly didn’t like the way they watched her. Krysta had only just joined with them. Was she so forgettable that both Drake and Mace would begin to ignore her so soon? She almost expected it of Drake, with his rogue’s reputation, but certainly not Mace. He’d seemed so steady and stable.

  Krysta must have frowned as she thought, for suddenly she felt two warm hands grasp both of hers, one on each side. She looked up from her depressing thoughts to find
Mace—and Drake—each holding one of her hands, smiling at her in a comforting, loving way.

  “She really can’t help it, you know.” Gryffid intruded on the shared moment. Krysta looked to the wizard who watched the retreat of his granddaughter. “It’s her great-grandmother’s power. Each of my grandchildren descended of my brief affair with Luna have been irresistible to humans of the opposite sex. Luna’s magic is of the moon and the tides. She can also tug on the emotions, lust most of all. I’ll admit, Luna ensnared me for a time.” Gryffid shook his head. “We had a son named Rigel. He had—and still has—his choice of women, but he chose a human mate many centuries ago and when she eventually died, she broke his heart. Gwen is their grandchild. Luna’s influence was strong in the girl, so they sent her to me for her own good. I have few humans here on the island and most are impervious to her magic because I have bespelled them so. Rather ironic, that. Using magic to negate magic, eh? But it works.”

  They didn’t have time to comment as a group of servants and Gwen herself arrived with a series of steaming platters and dishes. The servants were unlike any people Krysta had ever seen. They were tall, stately beings, with icy-blond hair and perfectly chiseled features. They looked human—except for their delicately pointed ears.

  They reminded her of Jinn fairytales, and her heart sped a pace as she realized she was beholding fair folk!

  “We’ll start with this,” Gwen said as she took a seat next to Gryffid, “and the rest of the household will join us shortly. I know the three of you are probably quite hungry after the crossing.” A platter of bread with dipping oils and creamy butter was placed near the three travelers as the fair folk set the tables quickly and efficiently. They made little sound and smiled back when Krysta thanked them. They seemed friendly—not the powerfully scary beings of Jinn legend.

  Krysta’s stomach rumbled with hunger as she dug into the delicious breads. Some of the little loaves were black, some brown with spices and seeds of different kinds, but all delicious. She ate as daintily as she could, considering her ravenous hunger, but by the time she looked up, the entire hall was filled with tables, set with plates and platters of all kinds of things. People were filing in—more of the fair folk, for almost every single one had a fair complexion and varying shades of blond hair. They chatted amiably as they went to their tables, and Krysta noted more than a few warriors among their ranks.

  Nellin walked in behind William and two of the fiercer-looking warrior folk, heading straight for their table. William kissed Gwen on the cheek before he took his place on Gryffid’s other side, and Nellin went to his mate, twining her neck with his as he settled behind Mace. Behind her, the two dragons made an impenetrable wall of protection for the three of them.

  “Where did all those other tables come from? And the chairs?” Krysta finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

  Gryffid’s eyes twinkled. “Magic, my dear.”

  Two imposing figures stood at Drake’s side of the table, waiting, apparently, for introduction. Both were fair folk, but of a more muscular tone than the servants she’d seen. Both wore leathers, and their hair was bound back in the style of warriors.

  Drake and Mace stood, as did Krysta. She was a Guardswoman and had been a warrior of the Jinn even before settling in Castleton. The fair warriors were male and female, a matched set. Krysta took the female’s measure while her mates eyed the male, and she found herself filled with respect. These were not frivolous folk, wearing their leathers for show. No, she could tell at a glance these were true warriors.

  Gryffid rose to make the introductions. “My friends, these are my Captains of the Guard, Lilith and Gerrow.”

  “Two captains?” Mace asked, cocking one brow in question.

  Gryffid laughed. “They are a mated pair. I couldn’t let one outrank the other, now could I? Never let it be said that I was the cause of disharmony among mates.” Both warriors smiled as Gryffid laughed and returned to his seat.

  “I’m Drake.” The bard offered a smile and a hand in the way of warriors, close to the other couple as he was. “This is Krysta, Mace, Jenet and Nellin.” The dragons’ heads rose over the backs of their chairs, blinking in acknowledgment.

  “Well met,” Gerrow’s voice rolled over them as he bowed briefly to the dragons.

  “We were foretold of your coming,” Lilith said from his side, her voice higher pitched and every bit as musical, “but nothing could prepare us to see two such dragons over our island. They are a sight to behold.” The pair took seats at the table and made themselves comfortable.

  As far as Krysta was concerned, the woman was all right. No one could fake the admiration and awe in Lilith’s voice, and anyone who admired Nellin and Jenet had good judgment, in Krysta’s opinion.

  “We’ve had the pleasure of helping to train young William these past years. We’ll be sorry to see him go.” The male warrior dug into a platter, serving himself from the bounty laid on the table. The others followed suit.

  “Then you’re letting him go?” Mace addressed Gryffid.

  “Yes, of course, Sir Mace. It was never my intention to keep him indefinitely. I only borrowed him for a few years.” The wizard chuckled but Krysta watched William’s face. He seemed troubled, though he kept his eyes down and his attention on his plate as the conversation flowed around him.

  After the main meal was served, a place was cleared in the middle of the hall and a few of the fair folk brought out instruments. They began with soft tunes while the rest of the hall was cleared, warming up a bit as the last stragglers finished their meals and sweets were laid on each table for those who wished to partake.

  Lilith eyed the minstrels then turned to Drake.

  “Perhaps you would favor us with a song?”

  Her mate, Gerrow frowned. “A bard? I thought he was a knight.”

  “Apparently—” Drake raised his eyebrows, “—I’m both.”

  Lilith put one hand over her mate’s on the table. “Beloved, don’t you recognize Drake of the Five Lands?”

  Gerrow’s fair face flushed. “Forgive me. Is this true? You are the famous Jinn bard?”

  “One and the same. Being partnered with Jenet is rather new to me, so your pardon if I don’t quite see myself as a ‘knight’. I have little training in the ways of dragon knights, though I’m hopeful Mace and Nellin won’t mind helping me learn my new role.”

  Mace almost cracked a smile as he nodded, though Nellin didn’t stir from where he lay, neck entwined with his mate. The poor creature was besotted with Jenet, and who could blame him?

  “We’ve heard many of your compositions, brought back to us from those who venture off the island from time to time.” Lilith’s eyes sparkled at Drake, but Krysta didn’t fear the beautiful woman would even try to turn his head. Lilith and she were equals. Warrior women who understood each other. That much was clear.

  Drake looked uncertain. “I doubt I could entertain any better than your people. Fair folk are reputed to have the most beautiful voices in the world. I don’t think I can compete.” A sheepish smile softened his refusal, but Krysta heard the very real doubt in his words.

  “What’s this? Drake of the Five Lands, uncertain about his talent?” Gryffid scoffed. “You’re a natural bard, my boy. Don’t let these blond fools intimidate you. The ones who go abroad all return singing your praises and your songs.” The wizard winked, smiling conspiratorially.

  “Well…” Drake actually flushed, color riding his chiseled cheekbones, surprising Krysta, “…if you’re sure. And if someone could loan me an instrument, I’d be happy to give you a song.”

  “It’ll be more than one, if I’m any judge.” Gryffid chuckled as Drake stood and made his way to where the minstrels had set up. Krysta watched him go with pride. She knew his reputation was well earned and she had even heard him perform once or twice in the distant past, though she hadn’t heard him recently. She was looking forward to his performance, knowing this time, this special man was hers.

>   Drake walked the gauntlet of tables filled with fair folk. It was disconcerting to say the least, but their friendly smiles and encouraging looks were familiar. He’d seen just such looks on the faces of tavern patrons and courtiers the world over. They were eager for entertainment, eager to hear him sing and tell his tales through music. His only job was to not let them down.

  He’d never doubted his ability. Not since he was a teen and just learning his skills. But he doubted now, though he fought to not let it show. The speaking voices of the fair folk had enchanted him. He could only imagine what they sounded like in song. He didn’t think any human could hope to compete with such natural beauty, but he was damned well going to try. He would not bring shame to his own name or to his new family. He would give the finest performance any human bard could give and if he failed to please the fair folk, well, then, he’d given it his best.

  The minstrels grinned in welcome and made a place for him at their center.

  “I am Zarat,” another man introduced himself. He had golden-blond hair, not too much lighter than Drake’s own, though his skin tone was much fairer. “I’m honored to meet you. My wife had the good fortune to hear you play once in Helios when you were just a boy. Even then, she was impressed with your music.”

  “Thank you.” Drake reached back in his mind for that long-ago trip to Helios. He’d only been about sixteen when his adopted Jinn clan had traveled to that distant land. Drake hadn’t returned there until just a few years ago, so Zarat must have been talking about that first trip, when Drake was still quite new to life as a Jinn minstrel. “Hopefully I’ve learned a thing or two since then.” Drake smiled, making an effort to charm the fair folk, who listened intently to every word he spoke.

  “My wife, Margan, will be up in a moment. She plays pennywhistle. She’s just gone to fetch it from our home.”

  “I look forward to making her acquaintance,” Drake answered politely.

  “Which instrument would you prefer, Master Drake?” He swept his arm around the semi-circle of musicians who each held various instruments aloft in a signal they were willing to share with the newcomer. Drake was flattered by their offers. He knew what it was to let a stranger play a beloved instrument made just for you.