Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  She told herself there was as little sense in her unexpected feeling of possessiveness over her husband as there was in her momentary vision of finding happiness here, with him.

  But still…she continued to watch Germain until he extricated himself from the conversation and left the garden a short time later. And even then, Sarai’s eyes followed him until he disappeared from sight, for the second time that day.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jocelyn gasped, stumbling backward as she returned to the present. The first thing she became aware of was Kincaid’s hand, still grasping hers firmly, and she yanked away.

  “Why did you do that?” she shot at Raqisa, her chest heaving. “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

  The dragon drew back, her expression surprised.

  “I thought you would welcome the chance to share in the past.”

  “Well, I didn’t,” said Jocelyn shortly. She knew she was falling far short of the level of civility she should give a dragon, but she wasn’t enough in control of herself to behave more politely.

  Fortunately Raqisa didn’t seem inclined to take offense. “I fear I have overwhelmed you,” she said mildly. “I will join Elddreki in his meeting with our elders, and give you some space.”

  And accompanied only by a short gust of wind, the dragon was gone.

  “Jocelyn?” said Kincaid hesitantly, after a moment of silence. “Are you all right?” She didn’t answer, and he pushed on, his tone tentative. “That was strong that time. Even I felt it, a little.”

  Jocelyn looked up at him in surprise. “You heard her thoughts?”

  He shook his head. “No, it was just the emotions, like in the cave. I guess I don’t have the storytelling gift, but I was still affected by Raqisa’s magic. I felt…loneliness, again. But also something different. Jealousy.” He looked at his feet. “Possessiveness.”

  Again Jocelyn didn’t respond. She had put the future from her mind in the excitement of their arrival at Wyvern Islands, but this glimpse into the past had brought it forcefully back to her thoughts. She looked away from Kincaid, shivering at the new fear that raced over her. Had Princess Sarai’s fate been even worse than Jocelyn had imagined? Had she come to care for her husband in spite of herself?

  Jocelyn had thought the idea of a marriage without love bad enough. But what if she were to marry Prince Ormond, and then over time come to love him, knowing full well he didn’t love her in return? That he had married her purely for political reasons? The thought was horrifying.

  But she shook it off. No, the softening she had witnessed in Princess Sarai’s memories was surely a natural and necessary part of a husband and wife learning to live with one another, that was all. She had seen into Princess Sarai’s mind and knew with perfect clarity what her thoughts and emotions had been upon her marriage, and in its early months. She couldn’t believe the Kyonan princess had ever come to genuinely love her Valorian husband.

  “You look tired,” said Kincaid gently, when the silence continued to stretch out. “I’m sorry you were forced to relive something you didn’t want to see.”

  Jocelyn sighed. “It wasn’t as terrible as all that, it just took me off guard. I’m confused enough in my own skin most of the time. I don’t need to muddy the waters by parading around in someone else’s head.”

  Kincaid smiled sympathetically. “It seems like Elddreki might be gone a while. We may as well make ourselves comfortable.”

  He led the way over to a large boulder, and Jocelyn followed mechanically, seating herself on the grass and leaning back against the rock. The return of all her thoughts and fears about the future made it increasingly difficult to be comfortable around Kincaid.

  Perhaps the Valorian sensed it, because he put a bit of distance between them when settling himself on the grass. After a minute he laid back on the turf, his eyes on the sky. They stayed that way for some time, in companionable silence. Jocelyn sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her thoughts straying to Elddreki. How was he faring with the elders of this dragon colony? Hopefully he was safe. She shuddered to think how vulnerable she and Kincaid would be if anything happened to Elddreki.

  “Whoa!”

  The exclamation was startled out of her as something nosed her knee. Deep in her abstraction, she hadn’t noticed anything approaching. Kincaid was up in a flash at the sound, his hand on his sword. But he stopped dead, staring at the sight before them in as much amazement as Jocelyn felt.

  “A dragonling!” he breathed, and Jocelyn nodded, her eyes glowing.

  “It must be.” She reached out a tentative hand to stroke the miniature dragon’s snout, and it purred contentedly. “Hey, there, little one. Easy!” she laughed, as the dragonling hiccuped, a tiny spurt of flame shooting out of its mouth and extinguishing in the air. She met Kincaid’s eyes, and they shared a smile in acknowledgment of the wonder of the moment.

  The dragonling was more startlingly beautiful than anything Jocelyn had ever seen. It was also adorable, gamboling and frisking around like an oversized puppy. Quite oversized, since it was larger than a full grown mastiff. In shape it was much like Elddreki, down to the bearded ridge around its temple and the triangular plates running the length of its back and tail. But the proportions were off—its scales were too big for its body, but its wings were tiny against its flanks, and its talons were positively cute.

  But none of that was the most striking feature of the dragonling. It seemed Raqisa had spoken the truth when she said dragons start bright. This one’s scales were magenta, and it was so vivid in color it was blinding. Jocelyn could imagine the color dimming to a dull burgundy over time, but for now it was breathtaking.

  “Look, more!”

  Kincaid’s voice drew her attention away from the playful creature in front of her, and she laughed with delight. A group of several dragonlings was racing toward them, bumping each other with their awkward gait, clearly eager to join the fun. They converged on the humans, their scales a riot of green and orange and blue. Jocelyn glanced around but couldn’t see any adult dragons in sight. It seemed the young ones had a lot of license to roam.

  She chuckled as she patted them, small snouts tugging at her dress and sniffing at her hair.

  “What are you laughing about?” Kincaid asked, looking down at her in amusement.

  She grinned up at him. “I’m just thinking that Elddreki must have been a very cute little dragonling, with his green and purple and blue.”

  Kincaid grinned appreciatively. “Be sure to tell him that when he comes back.”

  Perhaps liking the sound of his voice, the dragonlings suddenly transferred their attention to Kincaid. As one, they abandoned Jocelyn and loped toward her companion, frolicking around his legs and vying for his favor.

  “Hey!” he protested as they began to yank at his pants, but there was a laugh in his voice. Jocelyn couldn’t help laughing herself as more than one of the dragonlings started to tug on his clothes, clearly inviting him to come and play.

  They were strong in spite of their cuteness, and Kincaid shot Jocelyn a look of humorous helplessness as he was dragged in the direction of a small clump of trees.

  “Save me, Princess!” he cried with a grin. “I’m being carried off by a horde of angry beasts.”

  Jocelyn just chuckled, not bothering to respond. She would have had to shout to do so, the dragonlings were buffeting Kincaid along so quickly. She grinned as the group reached the trees, most of the dragonlings releasing their prisoner to let out some energy by weaving enthusiastically between the trunks, checking to see if their new playmate was watching. One or two stayed with Kincaid, pulling him to the ground in their eagerness to play.

  Jocelyn didn’t have even a second’s warning of what was coming. One moment she was chuckling lightheartedly, watching Kincaid as he wrestled with the dragonlings, for all the world like he was playing with energetic children, or over-enthusiastic puppies. The next the sunlight was blocked by a vast shadow, and she was staring up in alarm at
the sight of an unfamiliar dragon, wings spread impressively as he came to land immediately in front of her.

  “What are you doing in our realm, human?” the dragon demanded without preamble. “How do you come to be here?”

  “I, uh, I came with another dragon,” she gasped, her voice coming out a squeak. “He—”

  But her sentence was destined to remain unfinished. Fear had spiraled through her at the dragon’s tone, and she felt her power jolting out uncontrollably as she spoke. The dragon had obviously noticed it, and he cut her off with a hiss that smelled like smoke.

  “You have magic!” he declared, his horror evident in his face. “The abomination we have feared has come upon us!”

  “No,” Jocelyn gasped, her vision swimming strangely. “No, I—I didn’t steal my power. I’m not an abomination. I’m—I’m supposed to have it.”

  But even she was unconvinced by her words, and the dragon clearly knew it. His horror melted away for a moment, replaced by a deep and inexpressible sadness.

  “Dragons can tell when a human is not being honest,” he said, his voice almost gentle. Jocelyn swallowed nervously, her gaze flicking to Kincaid. He was struggling to his feet, his eyes on the dragon and his expression wary.

  “It is a grief,” the dragon continued, and indeed Jocelyn saw no anger in his eyes, only sadness. “But you must be destroyed.”

  Without further discussion, the dragon opened his mouth, drawing a deep rattling breath. Jocelyn fumbled blindly away, her back hitting the boulder and trapping her in place.

  “NO!”

  Kincaid’s roar cut across the scene, but the dragon paid it no attention. Jocelyn could already feel the warm air from his mouth, the prelude to a much hotter sequel. In her peripheral vision she could see Kincaid sprinting toward them, but it was useless. He would never reach them in time, and even if he did, all it would achieve would be for him to die in the flames as well. Elddreki might be able to shield her, but he was nowhere to be found.

  All this passed through her thoughts in a second, but then her mind was strangely blank. She felt hypnotized as she stared into the dragon’s jaws, not able to summon up a single emotion. There were no regrets, no reminiscences, no final reflections. Just the childish hope that it wouldn’t hurt too terribly.

  “JOCELYN!”

  Kincaid’s desperate shout, closer now, would be the last sound she heard. She could actually see the flames building within the creature’s throat, their heat reaching across the space to sear her skin.

  Then, just as the heat became too intense to bear, another shadow darkened the sky. Raqisa dropped to the ground like a stone between Jocelyn and the other dragon. The flames spewed from her attacker’s mouth, too advanced to be withdrawn. They caught Raqisa full on the chest, tongues of fire licking around the edges of her massive body and leaping toward Jocelyn in small spurts. The hem of her dress caught alight, and she beat it out with her hand, her mind still strangely detached.

  “Raqisa,” the new dragon said sharply. “Do not interfere. The abomination must be destroyed, you know it is so.”

  “This human is not an abomination,” said Raqisa impatiently, and Jocelyn was relieved that she sounded none the worse for the blast of dragon fire. “Take the time to examine her signature, and you will see for yourself.”

  “I have taken time,” said the dragon harshly. “I was sent to investigate and have this minute returned. I discovered that our brethren did indeed offer his power to humans, and I return to find one here, in our realm, carrying magic! And you tell me it is no abomination?”

  “She is not the result of a travesty,” Raqisa said. “She was born with her power. And she is a guest here. She and her companion were brought here by a dragon of Vasilisa.”

  “Vasilisa?” repeated the male dragon in astonishment. Jocelyn was almost completely blocked in by Raqisa’s body, but she leaned slightly to the side to see the new dragon’s reaction. He was a vibrant green and, she realized, no larger than Raqisa. Another young dragon.

  “Come,” said Raqisa persuasively. “Come to the elders and tell them what you have learned, and they will tell you what we have discovered this day also.”

  The dragon hesitated for only a moment, his eyes on Jocelyn, before giving a curt nod. Raqisa crouched, ready to take off, but turned her gaze on Jocelyn first.

  “Are you all right, young maiden?”

  Jocelyn gave a shaky nod, not able to master her voice.

  “Good. Stay here.”

  Then Jocelyn blinked, and the two dragons were gone, the sudden breeze that ruffled her braid the only reminder of their presence. That and the singed hem of her dress.

  For a moment she stared stupidly, dazzled by the sunlight. Then Kincaid was there, his way cleared by the exodus of the beasts, and she was on her feet and in his arms before she knew which way was up.

  “Jocelyn,” he whispered. “Jocelyn.” His arms were as tight as iron around her, and she buried her face in his shoulder, tremors rocking her whole body. He didn’t ask if she was all right, just repeated her name over and over, his arms seeming to tighten every time he said it.

  “I told him I wasn’t an abomination,” she whispered, her voice so muffled by his shirt that she wondered if he could even hear. “But he could tell I didn’t believe it.”

  He didn’t respond, just pressed his cheek against the top of her head. “Jocelyn,” he said again, his voice strangled. “I thought…I thought—”

  “I know,” she whispered, and he fell silent.

  She realized after a moment that he was shaking as violently as she was. With her face in his shoulder, her ear was against his chest, and she could hear the frantic rhythm of his heart. She had the feeling she wasn’t the only one who had just experienced the most terrifying moment of her life. For an indeterminate amount of time, he held her, neither speaking, both taking deep gulping breaths in an attempt to calm their racing hearts.

  It was hard to judge the passage of time, but all of a sudden Jocelyn realized Kincaid’s head was no longer resting on hers. She lifted her own face from his shoulder, but made no attempt to pull out of his arms. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, noting that her heart had slowed at last.

  Then Kincaid pressed his lips against her forehead, right on the hairline, and it picked back up again.

  One arm was still tight around her, but his other hand had strayed upward, cupping her neck. He kissed her not as a declaration, but as though he hardly knew he was doing it, as though it was the most natural expression of his relief at her narrow escape. She leaned into him, the action equally unconscious.

  Then Kincaid’s lips moved, and he kissed her temple, again without fanfare, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Then his lips trailed down her face, along her cheekbone, as though it was even more natural for them to travel there. Jocelyn could barely breathe as his head dipped lower. She was afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. For the space of one frenzied heartbeat, his lips were at the corner of her mouth, their breath mingling.

  Then he was kissing her, not in unconscious relief, but fully, intentionally, his lips tugging desperately at hers. And she abandoned herself to the sensation, pretending for one glorious moment that she was free to give her heart to this incredible man who she knew without doubt would give his life for her.

  She slid her hands around his back and up over his shoulders, standing on her toes to better reach him as she kissed him more and more deeply. Her emotions were too varied and intense to name, and though she spoke no words she could feel her power swirling dizzyingly out and around her. But somehow she knew Kincaid wasn’t affected—he was within the bubble, part of it.

  She felt a tugging at the back of her head, and she realized Kincaid was pulling her hair loose from its braid. It flowed suddenly around her shoulders, as free as she was still pretending to be. She felt a heady sense of reckless release as he tangled his hands in it, his fingers warm against her scalp, drawing her face even cl
oser to his, all without breaking their embrace. She hoped he would never break it.

  “Is that what kissing looks like?”

  The voice, its tone of bright curiosity all too familiar, caused both humans to jump back as though burned by dragon fire.

  “Elddreki!” Jocelyn gasped, her cheeks flaming as she patted her disheveled hair nervously.

  “It is a very strange type of interaction, isn’t it?” Elddreki continued, his head tilted to the side as usual. “Dragons do not do that.”

  Kincaid was breathing as hard as Jocelyn as he gave a laugh that was half groan. He hadn’t quite regained his usual self-possession, and he was looking at the dragon with an endearing mix of irritation and amusement.

  “Raqisa told me that Jocelyn had run into trouble, yet again, so I came to ensure all was well.”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” said Jocelyn, not quite meeting anyone’s eye. Her lips burned and tingled so fiercely from Kincaid’s touch that the memory of the attacking dragon’s heat seemed weak by comparison.

  “So I see.” Elddreki looked doubtfully between them. “Does this mean you two will wed?”

  “Elddreki!” gasped Jocelyn, looking anywhere but at Kincaid.

  The dragon frowned at her. “I am not well versed in these matters, but I have some sense that in addition to protecting your safety, your father might have expected me to safeguard your honor as well.”

  “Elddreki,” said Kincaid repressively. He was definitely still both irritated and amused. “Please stop talking, and go away.”

  Elddreki looked extremely taken aback by this blunt command. “Why?”

  “Because,” said Kincaid humorously, turning to face Jocelyn. “Most men prefer to speak for themselves when they’re trying to propose marriage to a woman.”

  Jocelyn’s eyes flew to his, her heart somersaulting strangely. The warmth in his gaze made her heart swell, but that only increased the agony a moment later, as it inevitably shattered.

  “Kincaid,” she said, putting out a hand in a clear gesture of restraint.