The Dragon God's Kiss

by Ana Lee Kennedy

  “You are a deity,” Ember said, shocking herself as well as everyone else. “How can you not know what the Ebon Weapon is?”

  “You know there is a higher god than I,” Raya replied, an amused expression gracing her lovely features. “If Oshin chooses to keep certain facts hidden, then I have no power to change it or to discover it.”

  King Roahre’s disapproving tone sliced through Ember’s composure. “Ember, you should not—”

  “She is correct in asking the question, King Roahre.” Raya looked around the table, her gaze settling briefly on each guest or member of the royal family before moving on to the next. “If she is to be the key to this quest, then she has the right to ask questions of me.”

  The king nodded solemnly.

  Sarenkesh asked, “Where should the princess begin searching for answers?”

  “In the South,” Raya answered. “The Southerners possess the Ebon Weapon, so shall Ember search in their kingdom.” Setting the ale jug aside, the goddess stood. “You must leave tonight, so gather enough supplies for a week’s journey.”

  Chapter Three

  “You can’t be serious, good Raya!” Roahre leaped to his feet. “Allow my daughter and the weary diplomats to rest this night and leave in the morning.”

  A sigh like that of a spring wind sounded over the table. “Why give the Southerners more time to plot against the races?” Raya countered. “Time is of the essence.”

  “Although I agree,” Sir Hestbone’s gruff voice cut in, “a good night’s sleep would benefit us all. We have been traveling for the better part of the day.”

  “Very well,” said Raya. “You leave before first light. I will return then to give Ember a gift for the journey.”

  Vivid white sparkles danced across the goddess’ skin until a vortex formed around her. The great cats leaped atop the table, pressing close to her sides. She and the panthers faded until only bright light remained. Finally, the illumination dimmed, and the last few twinkles winked out.

  “A servant will see you all to your chambers,” the queen addressed the diplomats. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask someone.”

  Servants appeared and ushered the diplomats to the grand staircase leading to the upper regions of the palace. Shai, Dikartha, Zoirah, and various others who had attended the meal bid them good night and left the great hall.

  Sarenkesh kissed Ember’s hand. “Until the morn.”

  “Good night,” she replied. As he turned away, she called out, “Sarenkesh?”

  He spun on his heel, his flaxen hair billowing around his shoulders. A smile tweaked the corners of his handsome mouth. “Aye, Princess?”

  “Thank you for a delightful evening.” Heat traveled up from the neckline of her gown and into her cheeks. “I truly enjoyed myself.”

  He smiled, the action lighting up his eyes. He bowed to her, turned, and took the stairs two at a time.

  Ember watched him go, regretting the evening’s end. She returned her attention to her mother, and found the queen eyeing her thoughtfully. Flustered, Ember looked away, but one of her sisters saved her from any prying questions.

  “Mother,” said Eternity. “Why should Ember be the only one to go on the quest?”

  “Aye,” Enigma added. “We are the Daughters of Trinity, are we not?”

  “You should be relieved to not go,” Honey answered. “Worrying about one of you let alone all three is not something I relish.”

  “But—” Eternity and Enigma said simultaneously.

  “It is time for my daughters to retire,” Roahre said, silencing them.

  “Mother,” Beron spoke up. “I fear for Ember.”

  A gasp pushed past the queen’s lips. “Off to bed with you as well, my son. In the morn, we shall see Ember off as a family. There is no need for somber thoughts or dubious warnings.”

  The adolescent rose and made his way down the opposite side of the table. His worried, brown gaze met Ember’s. A silent communication passed between them. He broke eye contact and kissed his mother’s cheek, followed by his father’s. With a quick backward glance at Ember, he plodded up the staircase, his boots creating hollow thuds in the empty meal chamber.

  “Come, Ember,” said Honey. She stood and held one delicate hand out to her daughter. “I shall walk you to your chamber. Your father will want to make preparations for your journey.”

  Numbly, Ember rose and allowed her mother to thread her arm through hers. She sensed the nervousness in her mother’s rigid stance, the tight grip of her fingers on her forearm. With quiet footsteps, they made their way up the stairs, and down the hall to the left. Ember tried to focus on the luminescent faerie orbs lighting their way. Even the enchanting muted colors that reflected in the polished hardwood did nothing to amuse her. Only fear and uncertainty registered in her brain.

  In her bedchamber, Honey released her and shut the door. “Come, daughter,” she said. “Sit with me on the bed.”

  “What’s wrong, Mother?”

  A short burst of ironic laughter erupted from the queen. “Leave it to you to slice to the heart of a matter.” Honey’s dark, assessing gaze flickered over her daughter’s face. She pulled Ember into her arms.

  A frantic thrumming permeated the bodice of Ember’s dress. Terror filled her mother! The idea that the queen herself was afraid frightened Ember more than anything else.

  “What frightens you so?” Ember asked.

  “Shh!” Honey moved her head so that her lips rested against Ember’s ear. “I must speak softly, or else Raya may hear.” She patted Ember’s back and said louder, “I will miss you so much, daughter.”

  “Mayhap I won’t be gone long,” Ember said just as loudly.

  Honey leaned close again. “Do not trust the goddess,” she whispered so quietly Ember almost didn’t hear her mother’s words. “Raya is good, but regardless of how she favors the Fae, she is still a goddess and can be deceitful.”

  “What makes you say such a thing?” Ember pulled back and searched her mother’s face. Although her mother was nearing her fortieth cycle, she looked fresh and young like one of her daughters. Still, the expression in her eyes spoke of a hidden secret and the years that had kept it so.

  Pulling her close, Honey explained. “I believe the goddess wants Fae and Man to blend so that eventually Man’s bloodline will be erased.”

  Surprise tiptoed through Ember. “And this is because she favors the Fae?”

  “Aye.”

  “Surely it’s impossible for such a thing to happen.”

  “You and your sisters, your brother, are the beginning.” Sighing, Honey took Ember’s hands into her own.

  Ember frowned. “But the Fae and Man have intermarried for hundreds of years.”

  “True, but only to help strengthen their races.” The queen glanced around as if invisible ears were listening. “The goddess encourages it, insists upon it. How many of our people have taken Mortals as spouses?”

  “Since…?”

  “Since you grew old enough to pay attention to such things.”

  Ember thought for a moment. Her eyes widened as she realized how many she knew who had ventured beyond Verdfauna for Mortal mates.

  Her mother nodded. “Now do you see?”

  “Do you think this is why the Southerners want control over all—to stop the intermarrying?”

  With a shrug, her mother rose and strode to the window. “I do not know, daughter, but it seems like a logical assumption.” She turned and looked pointedly around the chamber. She placed her finger to her lips and then winked. “I just wanted to warn you about Masters Jorgus and Kaedric,” she said in a normal voice. “They are wily men, but Kaedric is the worst of the two. Be wary of him and his conniving ways…and his silver tongue.”

  “He is a pig.” A shiver of distaste ran through Ember, and then her mother’s soft laughter greeted her ears.

  “I’m glad to hear you say so,” her mother replied.

  “Mother,” began Ember, “w
hat about Beron’s—?”

  Honey held up one hand to silence her. “Raya would never allow something to befall you, child. You are a Daughter of Trinity, her favorite of the three.”

  “But the look in my brother’s eyes—” unease slithered through Ember’s guts“—and the tone of his voice…”

  The queen returned to the bed, her gown rustling as she moved. “We’ve known for some time Beron will be a seer, but even seers are wrong on occasion. Besides, so many visions and dreams are symbolic, and it takes much contemplation to sort them out.” She placed one hand over Ember’s. “Perhaps your power will aid your journey.”

  Ember glanced around the room at the handcrafted wardrobe, the stone fireplace, the rich embroidered tapestries, and the unique vanity one suitor had presented to her as a gift, and wondered if she’d ever see her bedchamber again. Something in her brother’s unfinished warning left her feeling both empty and terrified. Fear was something she seldom experienced, but this would be the first time she’d ever set foot outside the walls of Verdfauna.

  As for her brother’s power, his had come early, but she hadn’t been so fortunate.

  Finally, she met her mother’s sympathetic gaze. “You speak of my gift, Mother, but we still do not know what my powers are—if I even have any.”

  “Nonsense! You are Raya’s favorite. Do you think she would fail to bless you with special magic?”

  An odd sense of despair descended upon Ember. Right now she wasn’t so sure about anything. She pulled the hair stick from her tresses. The mass of snowy hair fell around her shoulders and into her lap. “The only ability I have is what all Green People have: blending with the flora and fauna. I can’t use faerie glamour, nor can I cast spells.” She sighed heavily. “By Raya, Mother, I can’t even do simple tricks to please li’l children.”

  “I was not much older than you are now when I was finally able to cast protection spells and to heal injuries. I’m sure you will come into your magic soon, my dear.”

  “For the first time”—tears lurked in Ember’s voice—“I am afraid. I have beaten most of the palace guards at swordplay, have jousted Fae men taller and heavier than I, and even killed the Meg Prowler that invaded our garden pond, but this…”

  A look of anguish crossed the queen’s face. “You will return soon and tell us grand stories of your adventures and the marvelous wonders your eyes beheld.”

  “I hope you are right, Mother,” Ember said dully.

  The queen sat next to Ember again and enveloped her in another hug. “I am, daughter.” She pressed her lips to her ear once more. “For if I am wrong,” she whispered, “I will hold Raya responsible and seek Oshin’s counsel.”

  ***

  A single faerie orb drifted above Ember’s bed, casting soft golden light down on her. Ember arched her hips, wanting Fenroh’s cock deeper, harder. She strove for that point where she could reach the stars, but no man had ever truly sent her there. Oh, she would come, but the sensation was light, quick, and only served to sate her need for something more powerful for a short time before the hunger claimed her again.

  Her lover pumped into her faster, his breath heavy and ragged in her ear. “Oh, Princess,” he gasped. “You feel wonderful.”

  She met him thrust for thrust, wanting more, frustrated with the need continuing to burn deep within her core. Relaxing, she lay panting as Fenroh moved against her, his cock sliding in and out more forcefully, the head of it bumping that special spot. She cupped her breasts, heavy with sensation, and offered them to him. Fenroh paused and latched on to first one nipple then the next, alternating his attention between them. He flicked his tongue over each pert, pink nipple, and sucked hard before switching to the next.

  Tight spirals of fire twisted through her breasts and arced downward to Ember’s pussy. “Oh.” She moaned. “More, Fenroh.”

  He sucked one nipple into his mouth and began pumping into her again.

  “Aye.” She gasped. “Like that. Harder.”

  His thrusts grew more vigorous, his breathing more erratic. “I cannot last”—he groaned loudly, eyes rolling back in his head—“much longer, Princess.”

  “Mmph!” Ember met his every movement with one of her own. Sliding her hands down his ribs, she reached his ass and gripped it, digging her fingers into the tight muscles. “Give me your essence, Fenroh.” She pulled his pelvis tighter to her so his shaft pushed all the way in and lay snugly against the opening to her womb. “Spill your seed and push me to the stars.”

  At that, he pumped a few more times and suddenly stiffened. He muffled his cries in the pillow beneath Ember’s head. As she felt his seed spurt into her body, bathing her insides in hot liquid, it was enough to push Ember over the edge. The rippling began within her, faintly at first, and then a little stronger.

  “Ah!” Fenroh began pumping again. “You have finally come. It feels so nice.”

  She cried out softly and hugged Fenroh as he coaxed the last bit of his seed into her and then claimed her lips in a rough, passionate kiss.

  Exhausted, they lay entwined together for several moments, their breathing loud in the quiet bedchamber.

  “Princess,” Fenroh whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “Father knows you have taken me as a lover.”

  “And?”

  “He fears what the king will do if I get you with child.”

  She snorted. “I have had several lovers, Fenroh, and have yet to conceive. If I was to have a child, I think I would have been pregnant by now.”

  “Still, there is the chance.” With his index finger, Fenroh traced the hills and valleys of her body.

  “I suppose, but it doesn’t matter.”

  “How can you say that?” He leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her. Worry swirled in his bright blue eyes.

  Ember cupped one side of his smooth, handsome face. “I must leave in a few hours. Raya has chosen me to go on a quest, and I shall be gone a long time.”

  “Surely you jest.” He blinked, denial in his expression. When she didn’t respond, a frown marred his smooth brow. “Princess?”

  “You must go now, Fenroh. I need to rest before I leave.”

  “This is so unfair. I cannot bear the thought of not seeing you.”

  “Go before someone finds you here,” she urged. “I do not want Father taking his wrath out on you while I am gone.”

  “But Princess—”

  “Do you dare contest what Raya has made law?”

  The color drained from Fenroh’s face. “Nay. It is difficult to leave you.”

  She kissed him on the mouth, and then laid back, her arms over her head. “It is difficult for me to leave.”

  He rose and dressed quickly. At the window, he paused and looked back at her. “Please take care, Princess. I will offer prayers to Oshin that he protects you.”

  “Be well, Fenroh.”

  He smiled, a tear trickling from one eye, and then turned and climbed out the window into the night.

  Guilt nudged her heart. All she could think about while Fenroh thrust into her was Sarenkesh’s sinfully dark eyes and his smile.

  ***

  The following morning, Ember arose to don soft tan breeches and a black tunic. A servant plaited Ember’s hair to fall down her back. As the young girl fussed with binding Ember’s hair, the princess’s thoughts centered on Sarenkesh. It didn’t make sense. No man had ever before consumed her thoughts in this manner.

  When the servant had finished helping her get ready, Ember slipped her favorite dagger inside her tall, white suede boots and grabbed her heavy cloth travel bag her mother had packed for her, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

  Instead of walking the castle’s corridors, she exited through the window, memories of Fenroh’s lovemaking and broken heart still fresh in her mind. It was good that she was leaving. She did not love Fenroh. That much was now certain.

  She crossed the roof to the balcony on the opposite side, eager to see Sarenkesh again
. As it was the year of unceasing daylight, brilliant orange smudged the eastern horizon, heralding the impending dawn. In the west, bright stars still twinkled in the dark purple expanse. A moist, early morning breeze bore the aroma of horseflesh from the stables and blossoms from the palace flower garden. Birdsong grew louder, and a horse whinnied. Ember stepped off the shingles and onto a wide tree branch that brushed them. She made her way from limb to limb until she reached the last one. Torches and faerie orbs lit the stable yard. Below her, Sir Hestbone yawned and scratched his ass. Amused, she leaped to the ground.

  The oversized dwarf let out a startled battle-like cry and drew his short sword. “By Raya’s power!” Hestbone stared at her with wide, dark eyes. “Where in Valhalla did you come from?”

  Smiling wider, Ember pointed at the tree.

  “Take heed, Princess,” he said. “I could have cleaved ye in two.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir Hestbone. It’s quicker to traverse the roof than it is to follow the palace halls.”

  Sir Sarenkesh Greensleeve entered the stable yard, leading a tall, elegant faerie horse behind him. He caught Ember’s gaze and smiled. Something warm meandered through Ember. Flustered, she returned her attention to Sir Hestbone.

  Mumbling, the dwarf sheathed his sword and stalked over to his pony where a stable hand struggled to cinch the saddle’s belt.

  “Aye, he is being stubborn again, eh?” Hestbone punched the steed in the gut. The pony exhaled and farted. “That’ll teach ye to hold your breath, you stubborn shit ball holder!”

  The other diplomats laughed as they assembled in the stable yard. The king and queen, trailed by the remainder of Ember’s immediate family, gathered too.

  “Mayhap you should acquire a real steed instead of a rodent pretending to be what it is not,” the goddess’s voice rolled through the damp air. “Of all the marvelous treasures the Dwarves have created, you have yet to breed a worthy horse.” Raya walked out of the shadows, leading the largest equine Ember had ever seen. Her two panthers padded along behind the horse. A leather-and-cloth saddle covered the horse’s broad back; the bronze decorations stitched to it with heavy leather tethers bore Raya’s symbol. Suede packs, most likely full of supplies, hung from various straps.