Plight of the Dragon

by Debra Kristi

  Kyra screamed, succumbing to her new self. Every bone, tendon, muscle, emotion, spiked with incinerating torment. Spasms took her, and red was all she saw. Red and red and spasm and red.

  And then there was peace—harmony.

  37

  CONVERGENCE

  Sebastian

  Sebastian’s arms ached with the pain of clinging to Anguis’s tail. Pain was good, a glorious thing. Pain meant life, and life meant another chance with Kyra. He wasn’t going to question how he was still alive. He was a Reaper, after all. All that mattered was Kyra. For the way he’d treated Kyra, he deserved getting whipped and thrashed through the water like a battered fish trapped on a line. A line attached to a whirling, runaway speedboat.

  The second time Anguis swept his tremendous tail up through the broken ice and sweet air kissed Sebastian’s skin, he let go, tumbled to a stop upon the frozen surface. He bounced upright, verve zipping through his nerves and tendons. He was more than alive; he was strong, hearty, and sharp-witted.

  “Shit,” he mumbled, taking in the scene. To his left, a dragon scuffle of epic proportion. A slight shift to his right, and there was his captor from earlier, the Water Dragon, clenching tight to his own head and screaming. Ahead, Kyra’s parents yelled at his father. A few yards beyond, Talia flailed on the ground.

  Reapers were spread out along the perimeter like a police line. And all the way at the shore was a dark-haired demon. He immediately recognized her as Mara. He’d seen her once before, in a dream. She had to be the one who’d possessed Chelsea.

  He turned away, searched left and right, and found no sign of Kyra. Not even the blonde in the dress she’d pretended to be. Maybe she hadn’t come to the lake at all. But if Talia was here, wouldn’t Kyra have come, as well?

  His chest numbed to the thought of something having happened to her. All concept of time was lost on him—how long he’d been under the water, how long he’d been dead. Anything could have transpired during the time he was away.

  Anguis moved beneath the ice at Sebastian’s feet. Swimming out behind him, the beastly dragon broke through the frozen lake again, his mammoth hump of a back resembling a deformed whale breaking the ocean’s surface.

  “Now you’ve done it!”

  Sebastian spun to see a wounded and blood-covered Jon Davies running toward him.

  “You’ve undone everything I worked so hard for. You’ve killed us all!” Davies yelled.

  Sebastian stared at Davies, something dark and noxious burrowing deep within Sebastian’s soul. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Ancient.” Several feet away, Davies screeched to a halt. “He will devour everything. I’ve seen it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Davies dropped his head. “Years ago I had the signs read to me. The old woman used the stars. I needed to make sure our future was secure with our rising king.” His gaze wandered toward Bolsvck. The great dragon was staring at the water, after the queen’s disappearing tail into the lake. “It was not.” He met Sebastian’s gaze with one of a tired and worn man. “I took precautions, got the help of the head Grim, but now Balidhug has become an all-powerful, destructive force anyway. Everything we were working toward has been undone, and we must fight until we can fight no longer.” He looked toward the disappearing swell.

  Sebastian had concerns regarding Anguis’s motives, but an old prophecy and the shouts from one man weren’t going to sway him one way or the other. Was it Anguis or Davies Sebastian needed to be leery of? He swallowed, and a lump lodged in his throat. Ignoring the discomfort, he reached out with his Reaper senses and found he could control his ability like a skilled master. There was no craving for Talia’s tonic to take the edge off, and the irritation of voice overload bothered him no more. He filed the observation away for later and allowed himself to feel Davies’s thoughts, emotions, motives. What he found—no deceit, only frustration.

  “Explain to me what Marcus and Anguis the Ancient have to do with one another,” Sebastian said.

  “You failed to reap Balidhug when you were ordered to do so. Because of you, he got his dragon back.”

  Sebastian frowned. Davies’s logic was flawed, but he followed.

  “Both Balidhug and Anguis the Ancient learned of Kyra’s Water-Fire Hybrid status, thus sealing this fate.”

  “That’s the part I don’t get.”

  Davies sighed. “Balidhug learned of her when you first dragged her out to meet him.” Sebastian grimaced. Not exactly how things transpired. “Allowing Balidhug to bring his fight here, to the ancient’s place of slumber, instilled awareness within him.”

  Sebastian opened then closed his mouth. His hand waved to dismiss the entire idea as absurd, but then he clutched his hand into a fist.

  “You!” The sound boomed, exploding over everything and everyone, drowning out the loudest of noises and thoughts. Sebastian spun around and beheld Marcus, a monstrosity of wings and talons, storming toward him like an oncoming firestorm. Behind him, a mass of mangled dragon limbs—Kyra’s sister and one of her suitors.

  “He is the least of your worries, now,” Davies whispered at Sebastian’s back.

  Mortifier stepped between the men and dragon action, and keeping his back to Sebastian, called out to Marcus. “You cannot kill what is already dead.”

  The dragon faltered, and fire wisped from his nostrils.

  “That’s right,” Mortifier continued. “You succeeded in killing my boy. What you failed to take into consideration was his nature. Killing a Reaper only makes him stronger.” Mortifier glanced over his shoulder and appraised Sebastian. “A hybrid such as my son, who is to say what he has become?”

  “Don’t oversell me,” Sebastian grumbled, privately acknowledging the darkness churning within his core. Reaper and Mara. Death and despair. He’d felt the change building throughout the day and had mistaken it for the dragon he harbored. The more likely truth, it was his slow death by dragon fire that had ignited a transformation into something more. Something darker.

  “He’s evil,” Davies whispered. It was unclear to Sebastian if he was referring to Marcus or Mortifier.

  “This has gone on long enough.” Mortifier turned, gaze burning into Davies’s skull. “I played my part, tossed your would-be devil into Purgatory, and it would seem it was all for naught.”

  “But…” Davies stuttered.

  Mortifier spun back on Marcus, threw his hand up in his direction. “Here you are, trying to destroy my bloodline and defying your lifeline.”

  Marcus bared his teeth.

  “You cannot scare me,” Mortifier said with a slight tip of the head. “You forget who I am.” He turned, glanced at Sebastian and beyond to his fellow Reapers. “Who we are.”

  “So you are Death. What of it? You don’t scare me.” Marcus’s brow creased and his large, reptilian head pressed forward.

  “You should be. We put you in Purgatory once before.” Mortifier brushed a finger across one eyebrow. “We can do it again. Or worse.”

  Marcus growled, stepped closer. “You did that?”

  “Of course. Do you honestly think,” Mortifier waved his arm in an arc to indicate the present company, “anyone else could wield such power?”

  Marcus’s head swung to and fro, and bitter sounds of anguish exploded into the air.

  “The truth hurts, I know.” Mortifier’s voice bled with indifference. “But I thought your little Mara companion would have helped you put your puzzle of a backstory together long ago. After all,” he tapped his chin with his index finger, and Marcus paused in his approach, renewed curiosity in his piercing stare and intimidating stance, “from what I understand, Leila’s been privy to the details since she was a minor.”

  Marcus’s tail slammed against the ice with a resounding crack, and the larger glacier pieces broke. Sebastian backed up, found his balance. Everyone rocked as if standing on large rafts covering the lake.

  “Stop this, Mortifier,” Bolsvck said, bounding up to the co
nversation. “You are antagonizing the situation.”

  The Reaper turned on Bolsvck, grim and callous. “I do nothing more than inform. It is time for all secrets to be laid to rest.” He brushed a spray of frost from his lapel. “Balidhug needs to know how Davies betrayed him, and why.”

  “I was working on that,” Bolsvck growled. Marcus chimed in with a matching growl.

  “Likewise, Davies needs to understand karma.” Mortifier turned and stared down the man. “One cannot simply destroy a man and his family, and not expect it to rebound upon his own.” A vicious smile curved at the edge of his lips.

  Sebastian’s eyes widened, and he sucked back a breath. He’d never expected his father to admit to any horrible acts, and yet here he was doing just that, albeit as vaguely as possible. He watched understanding sprout in Davies’s eyes. Sebastian could pinpoint the moment Davies understood that Mortifier was using karma as an excuse to steal the Davies daughters’ lives.

  Everything was falling into place. Because Davies had enlisted Mortifier’s help all those years ago, Marcus’s family had been destroyed and Marcus had been shattered, ruined as a dragon, and forced to live his life as human after escaping. His beast-side cursed to the fires of Purgatory. In some sort of retribution or cruel lesson, Mortifier had taken Davies’s family. And now he spoke of karma. Did he think he was exempt?

  “Why, I’ll—” Davies yelled. Marcus glowered at him.

  “What?” Mortifier interrupted.

  Dragons roared on all sides of them, and Sebastian fought the desire to cover his ears, let the darkness churning in his belly free.

  And then everyone was tipped and tossed, as if the world had exploded. Maybe it had. Sebastian pressed his hand to his stomach to settle the churning. Where was Kyra in the midst of all the turmoil? Answering Sebastian’s confusion, and bursting through the ice, full body and weight, came Anguis—all talons, spikes, and teeth. He became the horizon, dwarfing everything around him. His claws scratched at the demolished bits of frozen covering, and his presence commanded complete and absolute attention. “The Moorigad is rising, and she will be mine,” he said, the words slithering off his tongue. “Will you get out of my way? Or shall we fight?”

  The weight of Anguis’s words were still pushing their way into Sebastian’s comprehension when Bolsvck, then Marcus, rushed at the ginormous dragon. Like wasps, they were swatted away and sent careening out of sight. He said rising. Sebastian studied the ground. More specifically, the space between the large, floating platforms of ice.

  Something was happening. The water bubbled an iridescent blue.

  Sebastian shifted back toward Talia, putting urgency in his pace. She lay quietly upon the ice, as if frozen by fright. “Get as far from here as you can,” he told her. She nodded, but said not a word. Instead, she began to inch away, remaining flat against the ice.

  Anguis settled upon the frozen lake, his nostrils smoking venomously. “Which of you will stand for her?” He turned to Drakhögg. Beaten and worn, the Fire Dragon had his arm wrapped around Kyra’s sister. It appeared they were propping each other up.

  Drakhögg’s eyes widened, and he shook his head adamantly. “You can have her. She never wanted me, anyway.” He pulled at Kyra’s sister, and together they stumbled away from the smoking beast.

  Anguis laughed. “So little valor for a fire warrior.” His head snapped, losing interest in Drakhögg, his gaze seeking Ryhuu.

  The Water Dragon no longer screamed as he had earlier. His face dimmed, eyes turned blank, and deep wrinkles and shadows dropped across his face. He was becoming a shell of himself, and an expression that Sebastian had become all too familiar with on his reaps now owned his face. What had happened to the man?

  “You.” Anguis narrowed his sights on the dragon.

  Sebastian went rigid and ogled Ryhuu, watched as Leila stepped out from behind him, her eyes darker than the blackest of black holes. So that’s what had happened to him. Ryhuu had been hollowed out by the Mara.

  Anguis tilted his head to the side and let loose a laugh. “Do not try your Mara tricks on me. I learned all I ever need to know about Maras from your mother.”

  Leila startled, then blinked. “What do you know of my mother?”

  Anguis sneered. “She’d broken the Mara Golden Rule, you know that. No male offspring.” He narrowed his glare. “She sought refuge from her fellow Mara. Thought she might find safety in my company.” A half-gargled laugh escaped. “She couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  Leila glowered, black swamping her eyes. “You killed her?”

  The beastly, old dragon grinned. It was honest and evil all wrapped up in one wickedly curved line.

  Ryhuu suddenly came to life, gasped and turned to run for shore. When he started slipping and sliding on the uneven ice masses, he burst into dragon form and snaked away five times faster.

  “I find the state of the modern dragon distressing,” Anguis said, leering after Ryhuu. He sighed, then turned on Sebastian. “It comes down to us. I know your heart, demon. Will you fight for her?”

  “Why do you toy with us?” Sebastian said without waver, and took a step forward.

  “Don’t pass over me so lightly,” Leila said. “I may not give a damn about Kyra, but I definitely have a score to settle with you.” Howling her attack, she ran at Anguis. He lowered his head to the ice and roared. Thundering sound and gale winds exploded, tossing her in a tumble backwards across the frozen lake.

  Pleasure wrapped itself around Anguis in an undeniably excited grin, then he turn to Sebastian. “I toy with you because it’s fun.” He reared back, and then lurched forward.

  Queen Shui leaped from the water, landed upon the quavering ice form, and swung wide with her tail. Anguis lunged for her throat, mouth open wide. “Get out, demon,” she yelled at Sebastian.

  Anguis is insane. Sebastian’s mind reeled. Was the dragon’s state of mind a Moorigad problem or something else? Either way, he was taking Anguis down. Ignoring the queen, Sebastian raced toward the warring dragons.

  38

  RISING

  Kyra

  Kyra’s world was sharper and a thousand times more vivid.

  How long had she endured? Been out of touch with her surroundings and the passage of time? She peered up at the surface. Not as it should be, the lake was cluttered with a multitude of small ice masses. She remembered…it had been frozen, then broken. She’d blamed her mother.

  She’d been wrong. Now, after her metamorphosis, she felt the magic coursing through the water and ice and air. The magic used to turn Mystic’s lake into a frozen hazard zone had been Moorigad magic. But why?

  She could melt it all, every last ‘berg floating across the surface. But her gaze narrowed in on the shadows of bodies moving across the many frozen blocks above. Her mind spun with thoughts and scenarios. One swift kick, and she was rocketing toward them, wings tucked in tight at her side.

  Steering clear of any moving shadows upon the surface, Kyra exploded through the ice and found unsure footing upon its shifting expanse. Sharper than the razor edge of her claws, her senses took heed of every detail. Reapers to the far left, the old dragon and her mother fighting to her right, and—her heart stopped, jaw dropped, and dragon form melted away, retaining only enough scales for modesty’s sake.

  Sebastian lived! His stride was long, and he ran toward the dragons.

  “Sebastian!” Kyra called out.

  Faltering, Sebastian slowed, then paused and glanced back. The moment their gazes met, Kyra knew everything she needed to know. She didn’t know why he had lied to her before, but he did love her. She could see it on his face. Her heart swelled larger than the expanse of her Moorigad wings, and she took a step toward him.

  And then her heart hitched and stopped.

  He was too focused on her, he didn’t see it coming. And it happened so fast she couldn’t warn him. The old dragon and her mother tumbled. A massive tail slammed against the surface and swept across the ice. Sebastian w
as swept away in its wake.

  39

  REBOUND

  Marcus

  “What the fuck…?” Marcus rolled off his side and straightened his wings. A sharp pain shot up his right spar bone, through his finger joint, all the way to his shoulder. Folding and flapping his wing was only accomplished with irritating discomfort. “Damn it all to Hell,” he growled, and shook off the dirt and debris clinging to him from his landing.

  That thing, whatever it was, had tossed him—yes, him—clear across the lake all the way to the shoreline. Impossible. His blood turned to magma, slugged and scorched. The thing looked like a dragon, but like none Marcus had ever seen or heard of.

  The stupid Water Bitch was taking the thing on. Marcus laughed, then glanced to the side, where Bolsvck lay. The old Fire Dragon was only now starting to stir. The worn-out king, the stuck-up queen—Marcus studied the scene on the ice once again—and let’s not forget the little carnie fuck. The stupid boy was out on the frozen lake, charging the beast.

  Wicked as he knew he could be, Marcus loved it when plans came together so easily. And the one forming in his head now was simple and wouldn’t cost him a thing. No sweat or blood or excretion. I’ll let that fuck of a dragon destroy them all for me. If he was lucky, the damn thing would clean house and take care of Davies, as well. The sniveling ass was out there, cowering away from the fight.

  But then, everything changed. Another beast appeared, blasting through the ice. It was there, and then it wasn’t. Where the beast had been, Kyra now stood. Lights and bells went off in Marcus’s head. Her dragon and the other beast were the same! The massive dragon was another Moorigad. And Kyra was now a fully realized Moorigad.

  His shackles prickled, and smoke swirled from his nostrils. The want, the need. Marcus took off at a run, flapping against the pain, pushing for flight, pushing toward the fight.