by Kym Dillon
“But, you’ll lose him,” Vyda whispered.
Daya smiled ruefully and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m used to it.”
“So am I,” Vyda sighed, dropping her gaze.
“Hey,” Daya got her attention. “Fate may not have given either of us the lives we think we deserve, but we have the reigns now. We can take control of our destinies and do something worthwhile. Something great. I’m no coward.” She licked her lips, ignoring the fear in her heart. “I know this is the thing that I was sent here to do. With your help or not, I have to carry on, but I could really…really use your help.” She smiled encouragingly.
Vyda mulled it over as an owl hooted overhead and insects made night music. It was getting colder beneath the canopy of the trees. Daya squinted through the darkness to see if she could make out a thinning in the underbrush, but there was none. She wondered if Neigen had made the journey easier for her when they had first set out for the keep. If he had, then her trip might take more than days, and she wanted to keep moving.
“What do you say?” she prompted quietly.
“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” Vyda said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll agree to this crazy idea of yours. Let’s keep walking. We’re almost to the path, and I have to get back to the keep. Arken will think I’ve run off for good.”
“Be sure to tell him this was my idea,” Daya replied as she pushed herself up from the ground. “Otherwise, he’ll blame you.”
“Plenty enough of that to go around. I’m certain I’m supposed to be talking you out of this,” she giggled.
The two women continued at a faster pace. Daya realized Vyda had changed directions and wondered if the dragon warrior had intentionally made the journey harder at the outset to get her to change her mind. She smiled to herself as her sense of kinship with the woman deepened.
Daya hoped Arken would understand the value of what they were both doing. He was so mired in the rule books that he would likely take their actions as an affront. But, she had spent the better part of the night considering her options, and this was the smartest choice.
Within an hour, they spilled from the woods onto a well-tread path, and Daya breathed a sigh of relief. “How much longer?” she asked.
“It’s two days’ ride. It’ll take you maybe four on foot. Stick to the trail unless you run into any huntsmen. They’re not just bad news from dragons. They harass the mortals, as well. When you reach the city, ask for directions to the temple. Someone will lead you from there. This is as far as I can go with you.”
She nodded agreement. “When you get back to the keep, remember time is of the essence. Do whatever you have to do to convince him to go. Take care of him, Vyda. I’m counting on you.”
“I will, and take care of yourself, Oedaya of the Sky Realm,” Vyda murmured softly.
Daya clasped her forearm and smiled. “I wish we would’ve had time to get to know each better. I have a feeling we would’ve been great partners. I’ll tell you all about my adventures when we meet again.”
“Until we meet again…”
Daya kept to the path. The downhill trek became progressively easier as the blue-black sky lightened with the first rays of dawn. Wild ferns grew by the roadside, and she spotted occasional wildlife. The soothing shades of green and tranquil surroundings did much to keep her in a buoyant mood.
At first, Daya ate sparingly from the rations she had taken from the enchanted dining room, but then she noticed the food and drink in her pack replenished itself. With luck, she would never run out. She stopped counting the miles and let herself enjoy nature.
But, the day got hotter, and her exhaustion began to catch up with her. Daya was operating on only a few hours of sleep. She eyed the sky to try to divulge the time from the position of the sun. Maybe noon, maybe later than that.
“Time for a rest,” she said aloud as she stepped off the path. She cautiously wove her way through the underbrush, looking back every few seconds to make sure she kept the road in sight. Finding a suitable clear space beneath a tall tree, she dropped her pack and tested the moss-covered roots for comfort. It would have to do.
Her nap the evening prior had made for a restless night. She had lain awake, thinking of Arken’s dilemma after he left her room. When she had briefly closed her eyes, terrible nightmares sprang from the shadows of her troubled mind.
She had dreamed she was sixteen again. Watching her parents pack for their doomed flight, she had begged and bargained to keep them home, but they hadn’t listened. She had been forced to watch them rush to certain death.
Then, she had dreamed of her apartment in Cincinnati, which hadn’t been a nightmare, per se, but she’d been struck by its emptiness. She had walked through lonely rooms that lacked any hint of her personality and realized she lived like a nomad. Ready to up and leave at a moment’s notice. That was how being a criminal had affected her.
As she made a bed of dry leaves and covered it with her blanket, she sank to the ground and tried to make the most of her short break. She thought of that life she had left behind. Daya could count her real friends on one hand, and it would only take invisible fingers. She had none. There were the crooks she kept close and the ones she kept closer, for her own protection. Not for the first time, she wondered why she was in such a rush to return.
She sighed and repositioned, eyes drifting shut with the warm sun on her face. She was almost asleep when the Sylph appeared in the clearing.
“Are you aware of what you need to do?”
Daya opened one eye. “For starters, I was thinking some sleep might be useful.”
Ainley grinned. “There’s time enough for sleep when you die. Get up. Vyda has made it back to the keep, and there are things set in motion that cannot be undone now. The diamond? You have it?”
“It’s in the satchel,” Daya groaned. She sat up and reached for the bag, withdrawing the poor-man’s replica of the Heart of the Dragon from its folds. In her hand was a white limestone crystal that Vyda had helped her painstakingly soak in a vat of red wine until it took on a pinkish hue. Ainley peered at it skeptically.
“And, you thought this would convince Feis?” Ainley scoffed.
“Hey, as far as I know, she’s never seen the real deal. This looks close enough. It’s the right size and roughly the right shape.”
“Ack, I do everything myself,” Ainley murmured. The elderly Sylph sat on a fallen tree and waved her hand over the decoy. Gradually, the pink limestone rippled like water that reshaped and reshaped until it was a vibrant red diamond. Daya clicked her tongue at the transformation.
“What would I do without you?” she giggled.
“It won’t be enough to fool the dragon eater for long, but it will suffice.”
Daya eyed her curiously. “Why are you helping me?” she asked.
“You’re a strange one, did you know that?” The elemental pointed at her, chuckling. “Every time I figure you out, you change. Your future ebbs and flows like a river. I help you because something tells me you need it.”
“Arken seems to think you know the future…Can you tell me what will happen to me if I go through with this?”
“Well, now, let’s see.” Ainley gazed in the distance with a wistful smile before she spoke. “In one possibility, you stand with him. You fight at his side like a valorous warrior. I see amazing feats of bravery.” She grinned, casting a sideways glance at Daya. “You die in the end, Odeaya of the Sky Realm.”
“But, we win?” Daya asked, a tinge of sadness in your voice.
Ainley’s wispy grey hair danced as she shook her head and looked down. “No, you don’t. You fail. The dragons fail. From the shores of the Isle of Warriors, you’d be too far away from Feis’ ships to do much damage with your Maker gifts. You’d be forced to watch the battle until it came to you. Ah, but the legends!” She shook a fist triumphantly.
Daya threw up her hands and slumped back. “Then, this is all in vain.! I can take this fake stone to the high priestesses
and use my powers to get to the Isle of Warriors, but we all lose. Forget the legends. I want more than that.”
“Eh, yes. I can see that. There’s always a ‘but.’” Ainley touched the side of her nose and pointed the finger at her. “How do you say—? More than one way to skin a cat.” Daya met her mischievous gaze and frowned. What was the Sylph trying to tell her? The elder laughed, as if privy to a very good joke, and added, “Well, who says you have to use your powers to help Arken?”
Daya asked slowly, “And…if I don’t help him…will I live?”
It was several days later when Daya arrived at the homely looking inn at the edge of the city. The letters on the sign outside the building shifted to words she could understand, but it didn’t take much to figure out this was the place for a good night’s rest. Rosy light spilled from the windows, and the boisterous sound of music and conversation beckoned weary travelers.
When she stepped through the heavy wooden door, she bumped into a group of men who eyed her suspiciously. Daya ducked her head, hoping the wide-brimmed hat she had donned hid her gender. It helped that she was tall for a woman and dressed in men’s clothes.
She looked around the crowded room. A thin layer of smoke hovered near the ceiling from pipes, and the place smelled like stale beer. She hid a smile, remembering all the fantasy books she had read in her life time. If the similarities held, all she needed to do was find a bartender, who would also be the proprietor.
Sidling up to a long bar, she beckoned for the guy in the apron doling out drinks. “Can I get a room?”
“Aye, lad – Check at the front desk.”
Daya nodded and tucked her lips. So, maybe the similarities weren’t that strong. She found the front desk through an open archway that led to a much quieter lobby. “Entered through the bar?” the rosy-cheeked woman asked.
“Yeah, I guess so. Um, how much for one night?” She dug around in her pack for the money the Sylph had given her. She wasn’t sure how to count it out, but the innkeeper accepted two large coins and handed back a handful of small ones.
“Have a good night, lad. Upstairs, fifth room down on your right.”
Nodding, Daya gingerly took the rickety stairs to the upper level. Her feet screamed with pain, and she couldn’t wait for a long soak. But, when she reached her “room,” it was hardly more than a closet. There was a cot-like bed covered by a thin blanket. As far as a bath, she had a bowl and a bucket.
Sighing, Daya sank to the cot and tugged off her boots. “You’re not in paradise anymore,” she whispered. “Get used to it.” Regardless of the comfort level, within seconds of her head hitting the bed, she promptly fell asleep.
She dreamed of Arken. They were in a field of wildflowers on the mountainside overlooking the island. The sky was too perfect a blue to be real. He stretched out in the warm fragrant grass beside her and held her hand, an arm crooked beneath his head as he studied the clouds. His black hair fluttered in the gentle breeze. He was striking, and she loved him with all her heart. It ached to see him.
“Why’d you leave?” he whispered.
“I had to go. There are things you don’t understand right now, but soon you will.”
“That’s not enough. I need you here with me.”
She turned her face to him. A soft smile touched her lips, and she traced his dark eyebrows with the tip of her finger. She caressed his cheek and leaned closer to kiss him. “Wherever you are, I’ll be here for you; and, wherever I am, you’ll be. Isn’t that what you told me?” He caught her fingers and pressed them to his mouth.
He cupped the back of her neck to draw her lips to his, and his kiss was a slow perusal to try to know all of her. An airy sigh spilled free. His tongue curled behind her teeth and swept over her bottom lip. She moaned softly as he slid over her, settling his pleasant weight in the V between her legs.
The familiar passion sizzled around them, so hot that it made the sweat instantly bead on her forehead. She had to undress. He helped her from her clothes one article at a time. Each inch of skin he exposed, he lightly kissed. She gazed down at him as he nuzzled her stomach and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pants to pull them down. Then, her head fell back and she closed her eyes as he kissed lower.
His skillful lips whispered over her delicate anatomy. The silky heat of his tongue found what needed to be loved. Daya whimpered in amazement as sensations she couldn’t put a name to unfurled within her. She inhaled the heady wildflowers. Her panted breaths were answered by the vibrant sound of crickets in the swaying grass. The clouds that drifted overhead cast shadows on her body. This was the real heaven, here with him.
Her pelvis canted forward to receive his mouth, and her fingertips raked through his hair. Her sex shuddered against his rolling tongue, and she gave herself up to the magic. He swallowed her whimpers of exhilaration, and he came up and eagerly guided his throbbing manhood into her.
A part of her wanted to rush, but he kept it slow. Achingly patient. They explored one another with lips and teeth and tongue, fingertips gliding over warm skin. Their sighs of bliss coalesced into one song. Each kiss ended and began another and another, and she thought she would expire from the sheer tenderness of it.
As they rocked together, quaking and moaning, climbing higher with every passing second, Daya knew she had been gifted with more than a dream. This was something else. “I love you,” she breathed. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of freedom.
She clung to his neck and met him thrust for thrust. It was there. She felt it. He didn’t have to say it. They finally culminated in an explosive orgasm, and she felt it wash over her. She was forever his, and she would do anything for the Dragon King. Even sacrifice her life.
12
A vein throbbed at Arken’s temple as he stared at the woman in the dungeon. The enchantment of his keep didn’t extend to the bowels of the structure. Here, the frigid, dank cold leached into the bones. Each breath brought the chemical smell of bat droppings. The odor coated the tongue and made it hard to swallow. The darkness was absolute, save for the torch he held aloft.
Vyda, the dragon warrior, huddled in a corner of her cell. The silence was punctuated by the sound of water trickling down the stone walls and her quiet sniffles. Where once her tears would’ve meant something to him, all Arken could see when he looked at her was a heartless murderer.
“I could kill you as soon as look at you,” he said hoarsely.
Vyda pleaded, “But, you won’t because you’re a good man. A good man, Sire!”
“No. I won’t because you deserve to answer to the dragon warriors for what you’ve done.”
“It was a mistake, Your Majesty,” she tried again.
His jaw ached from how tightly he clenched his teeth, but his voice lacked emotion when he spoke. “I’ll hear nothing else of it. No more of your life. I saw everything. Now, I want to know what you did with her. What did you do with Oedaya!” He slammed a hand on the bars, and the cell rattled. Vyda cowered in terror.
“Only what she asked.” She clasped her hands together and peered up at him tearfully. “I took her to the path that leads to the city.”
“Why?” he ground out.
“She, she wanted to present Feis with a decoy. Sire, I tried to talk her out of it! You have to believe me!”
“Why? Why should I believe a woman who murdered an innocent child in cold blood? You’re the monster the dragon eaters warn the mortals to fear. You’re a walking symbol of all that is wrong. All, for a chance to usurp me. How could you?” his voice finally broke.
He swallowed the searing pain and looked away before he lost what little control he had left. Vyda already wore the evidence of his fury. A purple bruise spread along her arm from the force of his grip. He had caught her the minute she exited the lift in the tunnel. He hated to look at her.
Agonizing thoughts filled his head with images of something dreadful happening to Daya. He knew no decoy would work agai
nst the demented sorceress. When it had been the dragon at risk, it had been different. Vyda was equipped with natural abilities that would have protected her, but not Daya. Not the love of his life. Her Maker magic would prove futile. His nails dug into his balled fists as he shook with rage. She had left him, and this one had helped.
He glared as Vyda scooted closer to the bars. Her wrists were bound, but she stuck her arms through a gap and reached for him. “You must understand. I was but a young dragon, ensnared by the promise of true love. I thought he cared for me…Cithurel, the leader of the rebels. He convinced me and the others that you were never coming back, that you were too cowed to rule. I believed him, but that was before I knew you.”
“You know nothing of me,” he said coldly, meeting her gaze again. “If you had even an inkling, you would withdraw your hands and crawl back to the corner where I can’t reach you. Now.”
Sniveling, she backed away. “I know you’re a true king. I know you must understand because you’re in love with her. Doesn’t she make you want to risk everything?”
With lightning quickness, Arken lunged at the bars, and Vyda shrieked and pressed her body to the wall. He shook the steel gate until the hinges creaked. “You know nothing of me!” he shouted. His loud roar triggered a soft rumbling in the stone, and he gazed at the ceiling. Chest still heaving, he retreated from the prison cell.
Arken took several slow, deep breaths until the haze of red that clouded his vision dissipated. His fist was marked where he had hammered the steel. He glanced at it and sighed. “You’ll stay here,” he managed in a calm tone. “When I’m done on the Isle of Warriors, you’ll face your trial. For your sake, I hope nature is merciful and gives you a swift death…because the dragons won’t be.”
As he turned to leave, Vyda called after him. “You’re the only one who can lead us in this treacherous time. Feis will destroy them. Cithurel,” she spat his name this time, “is a power-hungry fool. As I was leaving the Isle of Warriors, he had already instigated a rivalry with younger dragons.”