Abyss

by Bethany Adams

  Kezari’s eye pinned him again. “I did not say we were. A skizik can be another dragon. However, around the time of the war, no small number were elves or fae. We began to mark our non-dragon allies lest they be confused in battle. The tradition remains.”

  “This is madness, Kezari. You know that, right?” Aris heaved a sigh. “I almost lost control ordering food in a tavern, and you want to merge minds with me. There must be another who could become your skizik.”

  Her answer was a few moments in coming, and her voice was thoughtful when it did. “Compatibility is not always so easy. But even if we didn’t have to wait for the moons to be full to break the link, I would not. I like you.”

  He snorted. He wasn’t particularly fond of himself right now, but a dragon had decided she liked him? Nonsensical. “Perhaps you are as crazy as I am.”

  “You are not crazy.” A puff of smoke escaped her nostrils. “There is greatness in you, Aris, but you’ll have to forgive yourself before you find it. Give yourself a chance to heal.”

  “Sure.”

  He fell silent, considering her words. She believed he’d recover, but she couldn’t know the extent of his wounds. He could give her what she wanted and fully link—his memories would disillusion her quickly. But he refused to inflict that on Kezari, especially after all she’d done to help.

  That kind of pain should die with him.

  Aris closed his eyes and shifted against her smooth scales. “Help me sleep? I need rest if we’re to reach Braelyn tomorrow, but the dreams…”

  “Of course, skizik,” she answered, her voice echoing in his mind as he drifted toward oblivion.

  Chapter 3

  Selia noticed the exact moment Arlyn faltered. Unfortunately, so did Iren. As Arlyn lost her grip on the group shield they’d all been holding, Iren sent his own energy forward to try to fill in the lack. But he overestimated, unbalancing the half-globe of power shimmering around them. Selia steadied the spell and then dispersed it safely. The hazy room beyond the shield came back into focus as the magic disappeared from around them.

  “I was just trying to help,” Iren said in a rush.

  Selia nodded. “I know. It was a good instinct, but this type of work takes a light, steady touch. It was a shield of illusion only.”

  “I’m sorry,” Arlyn said, her face almost as red as her hair. “I’m not feeling myself this morning.”

  Selia peered at her student. Before embarrassment had blushed her skin, Arlyn had looked a bit wan. Selia had assumed she was nervous about training with Iren. Although Arlyn was grown, she had lived most of her life on Earth and hadn’t reached Moranaia until a few months ago. She’d barely started her magical training. Iren had a great deal more experience despite the gap in years. But she hadn’t mentioned that. Perhaps she was ill.

  “Do you need to go see the healer?”

  One corner of Arlyn’s mouth tipped up. “No. I’ve seen him about this. There’s not much for him to do about my condition.”

  Arlyn’s expression had Selia lifting her brows. Her condition, hmm? “You’re pregnant!”

  Iren’s mouth fell open, but Arlyn chuckled as Selia lifted her hands to her own burning cheeks. “And now I am embarrassed,” Selia said. “Please forgive my lack of courtesy. I should not have blurted such a supposition, especially since we are not alone.”

  Arlyn grinned. “You know I’m not formal, and I’d like to think we’re friends.”

  “Of course,” Selia answered. “Still…”

  “Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” Arlyn glanced at Iren’s stunned face. “I should have mentioned it outright, but I wasn’t certain if I should with a child present.”

  Iren rolled his eyes at that. “I’m eleven years old. Why wouldn’t I know all about babies?”

  “Customs vary,” Arlyn answered with a shrug. “Just please don’t tell my father. I…maybe haven’t mentioned it to him yet.”

  Oh, that couldn’t be good. Were Arlyn and Lyr fighting? They hadn’t seemed to be at odds, but one never knew. “Might I ask why not?” Selia ventured.

  “I’m a chicken.”

  Selia blinked, not certain she’d heard correctly. “A…what?”

  Arlyn laughed again. “Sorry. A chicken is a kind of bird.”

  “You’re a bird?” Iren cried.

  “No,” Arlyn said, chuckling. “There’s an Earth phrase. If someone is being chicken, it means they are acting cowardly.”

  Iren’s expression grew thoughtful. “I’m a chicken,” he whispered, probably putting the phrase back for future use.

  Selia’s lips twitched, but she stifled the laugh. “So why are you being a chicken about this?”

  “He was upset that Kai and I bonded so quickly. I don’t know how he’ll react to this news,” Arlyn said. “Besides, Kai is being annoying enough. I’d rather not have two people worrying about every little thing. Please tell me you won’t do that.”

  Selia shook her head. “Of course not. I know well enough how frustrating that can be. We’ll need to go back to meditating and connecting with your energy, though.”

  Arlyn groaned. “I thought I’d finally mastered that.”

  “Sure.” Selia remembered her own struggles with magic when she’d been carrying Iren and winced in sympathy. “But as your baby grows, their magic will develop along with their physical body. It’ll mess with your energy in the process. You’ll need to re-center yourself periodically or your power might do strange things in the middle of a working. Like today.”

  Arlyn’s shoulders drooped. “Figures.”

  “Before we try the shield again, we should—”

  Selia’s words cut off as the protections around Braelyn shrieked a warning into her mind. She wasn’t fully linked to the estate’s magic, but she’d helped reinforce the spells that detected intruders—such as the one sounding the alarm now. She sent her power into the spell and found what she’d already suspected. The threat came from the sky.

  Arlyn shot to her feet, her brow creased in alarm. “That’s not the portal.”

  “The dragon is here.” Selia stood at the same time as Iren, though without the whoop of excitement her son released.

  “A dragon?” Arlyn’s eyes widened.

  “Didn’t your father mention it?”

  “No, he absolutely didn’t mention a dragon. You’re kidding, right?”

  Selia brushed at her pants in case she’d picked up any stray dust and then headed for her cloak. “Eradisel warned me last night. I assumed you would know.”

  “I haven’t seen my father since yesterday afternoon. Guess that’s what I get for avoiding him,” Arlyn muttered as she retrieved her own cloak.

  “Sounds like it.” Selia gestured for Iren to hurry. “I want you to stay inside the main building, Iren. Watch from a window if you can’t contain your curiosity, but don’t come out. And don’t dawdle. The only place clear enough for the dragon to land is the ridge above the valley, so we should be safe crossing the garden. But I’d rather get into the shelter of the main house even though we should be fine under the trees.”

  Her son nodded and rushed out the door behind her. She wasn’t happy with the gleam of excitement in his eyes, but there wasn’t much to be done for it. Iren had an adventurous spirit, much like his father, and little beyond tying him up would do much good if he was interested enough. But he was also smart, and he’d grown more cautious about danger after having to use his magic against an assassin to save Kai and Arlyn a few months prior. He would at least wait to analyze the danger.

  She hoped.

  By the time they arrived in the entryway, Lyr and Kai already waited. Iren rushed immediately to the window despite Selia’s sharp warning, but she relaxed slightly at the calm expression on Lyr’s face. Kai didn’t appear nearly as collected. Frowning, he placed his hand on Arlyn’s shoulder.

  “You should stay in here with Iren.”

  Arlyn’s mouth pinched. “You’d better rethink that.”

  “We
don’t know what the dragon wants. There’s a chance—”

  “How many Taysonal will have arrows trained on the dragon?” Arlyn demanded. “If you thought it was here to attack, none of you would be going out. I am my father’s heir. Unless you have evidence of danger, I’m going, too.”

  Kai scowled. “I don’t like this.”

  “She’s right,” Lyr said. “I’ve spent the night thinking about this. There’s no way a single dragon would come here intending to attack. They are powerful, but they are neither invulnerable nor foolish. And in Selia’s vision, the dragon had a rider. According to lore, only a dragon’s linked skizik would be allowed astride except in an emergency.”

  “So?” Kai asked.

  “If they were hostile to non-dragons, there would be no rider.” Lyr spun toward the window beside the double doors as the throb of wingbeats began to drum against the walls. “This is almost certainly an act of diplomacy.”

  In the end, even Kai shifted close to the glass to watch the dragon land. Selia’s breath caught at the gold shimmering from the massive body. Branches swayed in the tempest as the dragon alighted on the ridge outside the door. When it stilled, pulling its wings against its body and waiting with wedge-shaped head held high, its beautiful scales gleamed like a thousand tiny flames. They were so blinding in the midday sun that she could barely make out the shadowed form of the rider.

  “You have your spell prepared, Selia?” Lyr asked.

  “Yes, but I cannot guarantee how well or how long it might hold.” Selia tore her gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of the dragon and made sure the spell she’d created was ready. “I can also put up a fire-resisting shield. It seems like a reasonable action even during a diplomatic mission.”

  Lyr nodded. “Please do. Meli and my mother are in the library searching the archives for information about the initial peace treaty with the dragons and anything else pertinent. I’ve studied it, but my memory is hazy. Meli will relay word of anything they find.”

  “Arlyn should help them,” Kai said.

  Lyr shot his friend a quizzical look. “Clechtan, Kai, what is your problem? Do you not have faith in your bonded?”

  “Of course I do, but—” Kai’s words cut off when Arlyn grabbed his arm and glared at him. “Forget it. Let’s just get this over with.”

  “If there wasn’t a massive dragon outside that door, we’d be discussing this now,” Lyr grumbled. Then he shook his head and started for the entrance. “Well, come on. Except for you, Iren. Do not put yourself into danger.”

  Selia pinned Iren with a glance as she followed the others. “If you don’t listen to me, you’d better listen to the Myern.”

  “Okay,” Iren said.

  It wasn’t precisely agreement, but it was the best Selia would get in such a short amount of time. “Don’t make me give you extra lessons. Or ban you from watching the warriors train,” she sent to her son.

  “I’m smart enough to understand real danger, Onaiala.”

  Selia snorted at the indignant frustration in his tone. “I love you, Iren. Stay safe.”

  “I love you, too,” he answered.

  As the group passed through the double doors and out into the clearing in front of the estate, Selia squinted against the flashes of light reflecting from countless scales. The autumn sun hung a bit lower, the perfect angle to strike against the dragon’s body in a blinding display. She fought the urge to shield her face and stiffened her spine instead, not wanting to show weakness.

  Thankfully, her eyes adjusted by the time Lyr halted, Arlyn and Kai to his left and Selia to his right. They stood just out of reach of the dragon’s long neck and massive head. Selia hoped. Despite the nerves that danced in her stomach, she gathered energy and cast the flame-resisting spell in an arc in front of their group. The dragon’s warm breath hissed over them, but it made no complaint about the use of magic.

  “I bid you good day, honored visitors from the Isle,” Lyr announced, no hint of worry in his tone or expression. “It has been millennia since one of the fabled dragons has graced us with their presence. I hope this is an occasion of peace and not of strife.”

  The dragon’s voice—a female-sounding voice—poured into Selia’s head despite not establishing a link. “I have come to demand passage through the portal for myself and my skizik.”

  Lyr didn’t so much as blink. “Such passage was forbidden as part of the treaty.”

  “Forge a new treaty,” the dragon sent. “We must pass through.”

  At the implacable tone and the puff of smoke from the dragon’s mouth, Selia drew the containment spell into her mental hand. The dragon didn’t appear ready to budge, but Lyr didn’t, either. “Does your council know of your presence?” Lyr asked.

  Selia barely managed to contain a shiver when the dragon snapped her mouth in annoyance. “I will go through,” she insisted.

  “Calm down, Kezari,” another voice said. A male voice, and one that sounded oddly familiar.

  Selia narrowed her eyes against the sun and peered at the dragon’s rider, but he bent down, obscuring his face. He threw his leg over and slid off. When his feet hit the ground awkwardly, he stumbled and leaned against the dragon’s massive leg. A chill passed through Selia at the sight of his long braid. Light brown hair striped through with dark green. Just like…

  He settled himself and spun to face them.

  Aris. He looked like Aris. But that was impossible. Selia’s head reeled and her knees grew weak. She darted out a hand, gripping Lyr’s shoulder for balance. Seven years. Aris would not have stayed away from her if he was alive. He’d loved her and Iren. Perhaps this man was a relative.

  Had to be.

  Shock lined Lyr’s face as he turned her to face him, taking her wrists and squeezing gently. “Selia?”

  “It’s impossible,” she said aloud.

  “Are you unwell?”

  “That man looks like my husband,” Selia whispered. “Iren’s father. But he’s dead. I…”

  Lyr’s expression softened. “You can go inside if you need to. We can manage.”

  For a moment, the temptation was almost too strong. But no. Selia had promised to use her magic to aid Lyr, so that was what she would do. She forced strength into her legs and shoved her shoulders back. “I can stay.”

  Lyr let her go, though he gave her a sidelong glance before returning his attention to the dragon’s rider. “Please state your name and purpose here.”

  But if the man heard Lyr’s words, he gave no indication. He stared at Selia, his eyes so shadowed with pain she could almost feel it across the distance between them. His mouth thinned into a line, and he turned his face away, resting his weight against the dragon’s leg. In the shadow of the dragon, she could examine him more easily, but it didn’t make her feel better.

  Oh, Gods. It was Aris. With every breath, suspicion grew into certainty. She’d caressed those sharp cheekbones. Kissed that generous mouth. Tapped her finger playfully against the small cleft in his chin. Her fingers had twisted in those long locks as she’d marveled at the green, a gift from his dryad grandmother.

  She still dreamed about the shifting hazel of those eyes.

  At the surge of hurt, Selia clenched her fists and locked her knees. She wanted to run into the house or crumple into a ball beneath the weight of her pain. But she would not do that. She had a duty to protect the rest of the group. Even as her heart shattered into dust.

  For one long moment, Aris considered throwing himself over the edge of the ridge behind him. Only Kezari’s warm bulk at his side grounded him. Supported him. Of all the things he’d expected to happen when they reached Braelyn, seeing Selia hadn’t been one of them. His love. His light.

  She had moved on.

  “Your impoliteness does you no favors,” their leader said, an edge of annoyance entering his voice. “What is your name, and why have you come here?”

  It was gravely rude not to answer, but Aris couldn’t force a single sound through his aching
throat. Selia must have married or bonded to the lord here. As soon as she’d recognized Aris, she’d reached for the other man. Who had held her arms gently, whispering to her out of the range of hearing.

  He hadn’t been ready for this. Theory was one thing, but the reality… His stomach roiled as he struggled to think of what to do. Kezari wasn’t going to give up on her mission. Maybe she would fly him to another location until she received approval to use the portal. She could return for him, and he’d help her solve her Earth problem.

  Then he could be free.

  He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, I…”

  His throat seized, and his lungs burned with the shallow breaths he tried to force through. Each pair of eyes trained on him was a weight strangling away his very air. Wooziness blended with nausea until Aris had to settle his face against Kezari’s leg to regain his equilibrium.

  “I wish to shift, skizik.”

  That shocked him out of his daze. “What? Now?”

  “They cannot relate to me in my natural form. Perhaps an elven body would provide reassurance.”

  “Maybe,” Aris answered. “But by Arneen, wear some damn clothes.”

  “Warn them. I do not wish to have an arrow to the wing.”

  Aris made himself look at the small group, but he couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Kezari is about to shift into a smaller form. Please do not be alarmed by the surge in energy. I give my oath she intends no harm.”

  He could have sworn he heard a soft snort from Selia’s direction, but her expression was blank when he ventured a glance. But then, she’d always been good at hiding her emotions. Her father had demanded his children master the art, and she’d excelled at that task as expertly as every other. Of course, the more impassive she appeared, the more emotion she was typically containing. Unless she had changed. A lot could change in seven years—he shot a glance at her new lover—obviously.

  Lyr nodded. “Very well.”

  Power expanded around them as Kezari’s form began to blur and shrink. Aris shielded his eyes against the flash, but it only lasted a moment. Then she stood beside him in her elven form, her body barely covered by a thin, short dress. Without her larger body, the space between their two groups grew into a chasm. An abyss he wasn’t certain he could cross.