The Dragon Legion Collection 9

by Deborah Cooke

  Tisiphone caught her breath and stepped back, her gaze fixed on the old woman who had been huddled beside the pilgrim. That woman had leapt to her feet and flung out her arms. Her cloak had fallen away, revealing that she was young and beautiful.

  Hera in one of her favorite guises.

  Tisiphone gasped.

  The yellow dragon vanished.

  The pilgrim closed his eyes and looked to be breathing his last.

  Hera pointed her finger at Tisiphone. “Your battle was your own until you dared to threaten a child of mine. I banish you from this age and this realm!”

  “You can’t banish me!” Tisiphone replied, drawing herself up to her full height. In the strange blue-green light, she looked even more like a nightmare come to life.

  Hera walked toward her regally, shaking her finger as she spoke.

  “Across the centuries and the years,

  You will wait and shed your tears,

  Until the darkfire is freed again;

  Your vengeance can cause Pyr no pain.

  I close the portal, for once and all,

  To see those I love out of your thrall.

  When darkfire will burn once again,

  Your sister’s death can be avenged.

  When daughters of all elements are mates

  Then will the dragons face their fate.”

  “No!” Tisiphone cried, even as she was changed to the woman with hair the color of flame again. She had a moment to glance over herself before there was a clap of thunder loud enough to make the earth shake. The blue-green light faded as abruptly as it had appeared and when it was gone, so was Tisiphone.

  Thad was still lying on the ground, his breathing so shallow that Aura could barely discern it. Worse, he was changing shape on the ground before her, shifting from dragon to man and back again, and she knew it was involuntary. He didn’t open his eyes and even the pale blue shimmer that accompanied his shift seemed pallid instead of vigorous. He was flat on his back and too still, the blood flowing from his wounded shoulder.

  The spot of unprotected skin where he had lost the scale looked terrible. The flesh looked burned, and as if it was festering. Aura feared the Slayer had done something that would kill Thad. Aura dropped to her knees beside him, feeling more helpless than she ever had. Even the glow of the firestorm was subdued, no more than a pale glimmer of light when she touched him.

  Could it all be for nothing?

  Could Thad’s dream of a fulfilled firestorm not come true?

  * * *

  Jorge held fast to his prize as he was cast through the air. He didn’t doubt that he was being flung through time and space, as well. It was imperative that he return to the future with the pilgrim’s arm.

  But he had no control over the darkfire, and what it might do. His hatred of that unpredictable force redoubled as he endured the wind and the fog.

  Then he was slammed down hard on what had to be asphalt.

  Jorge smelled car exhaust. He could almost taste the tar of the road. There was a yellow line painted on the asphalt right beneath his chin.

  He smelled the salt of the sea and felt rain pattering on his scales. He heard car brakes squeal and tires smoke as vehicles skidded to a halt all around him. People began to scream.

  Jorge sat upright, wondering where he was, besides being in the middle of a road.

  Hundreds of astonished people stared back at him, some from behind the windshields of cars, others from the sidewalk. The cars were either very small hybrids or very large SUVs. Jorge’s heart skipped with hope. He looked up and saw a tower that had to be the Space Needle in Seattle, and the rain and the sea confirmed his theory.

  Then the people turned their cellphones on him, filming and photographing him. Others began to talk into their phones, all of which were models recent to the world he’d left not long before.

  Jorge would have thrown back his head and laughed if that might not have cost him his prize. He was back in the future, or close enough to it.

  Why not use his weapon now?

  He chewed on the arm even as he reared up. He flapped his wings and bellowed without slackening his bite. They filmed him from all sides, some hanging back, others pressing closer. He’d be featured on every news outlet on the planet, which would give fair warning to all the Pyr of the world.

  Jorge suspected that wouldn’t make any difference. He took flight, jubilant that the darkfire had finally turned in his favor. He’d survived so much and now he’d have his revenge. He shook the blood from the severed arm, letting it fall like rain over all the pitiful human spectators. Some of them screamed. Others ran. More of them kept filming his triumph.

  This could be big.

  This could end it all.

  He could be bringing a plague to the world. Jorge wasn’t one to admit his limitations, but he knew that he needed the help of a devious mind to ensure that his plan came to full fruition.

  Although he feared he might regret his choice, Jorge knew he had to go to Chen. He gave one last triumphant turn over the crowd, then spun in the air and disappeared.

  He would manifest in the middle of Chen’s own lair.

  * * *

  Tisiphone flailed and howled as she was cast bodily through the air. She couldn’t see anything except swirling mist and couldn’t feel anything but a buffeting wind. There were occasional flashes of blue-green light in the mist near her, but she couldn’t even see the source of the light. It just illuminated the clouds, as if she was in the midst of a thunderstorm.

  She was powerless to change her situation, and that infuriated her almost as much as being cheated of the chance to claim the first of the Pyr. How dare Hera interfere with her quest for justice? How dare Hera cast her away? If ever she saw Hera again, Tisiphone would ensure that goddess paid dearly for her intervention.

  Tisiphone felt herself falling. She tried to stop her descent and failed completely. The sense of helplessness didn’t improve her mood. Nor did being slammed into a rocky shore, as if she’d jumped from a great height. She was dazed from her ordeal and bruised from her landing. She heard water lapping a shore close by and smelled smoke in the air. She opened her eyes to discover that it was night and she was on a rocky excuse for a beach. The mist was rising slowly.

  She heard footsteps and smelled a mortal. Tisiphone shifted shape quickly, taking the guise of the woman with hair the color of flame. It would be less frightening to a mortal than her reality.

  “Hey, there. Are you okay?”

  Tisiphone rose to her feet and turned to see a woman dressed in black making her way closer. She had dark hair and red lips, and wore a silver bracelet shaped like a snake.

  “It’s not that safe down here, especially at night,” the woman said. “Are you all right?”

  Tisiphone nodded and brushed down her clothing, as if she loitered in such places all the time.

  “Do you live around here?”

  Tisiphone shook her head, not trusting herself yet to speak. Being divine, she could understand the languages of mortals, but this was a new one for her. She wanted to listen longer before she spoke herself, to be sure she got it right.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough night,” the woman said with sympathy. “I can totally relate, but you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.”

  Tisiphone looked down at her feet, as if embarrassed.

  “I don’t blame you,” the other woman said cheerfully. “Men can be such bastards. Look, I’m Viv Jason. I’ve got a place near here, if you need somewhere to crash or maybe something to eat.”

  Tisiphone nodded. She was going to make a polite comment, but the mist chose to burn off in that moment. She stared in amazement at the world revealed. There was a massive structure before her, unlike anything she’d seen before. It had clearly been built by man, but stretched taller and straighter than she could believe. It spanned the broad expanse of water that lapped at her feet, providing a path to a glittering city of impossibly tall buildings. Sh
e could see rows of lit windows, more than she could count, all glowing with the same intensity. There couldn’t be enough candles or lanterns in all the world to make that much light, but it was there before her eyes just the same. The night sky was clear overhead, but the light of the city even obscured the light of the stars.

  “Manhattan at night and the Brooklyn Bridge,” Viv Jason said with a smile. “It’s a sight that stops me cold every time, too.” She shivered with apparent delight, then beckoned to Tisiphone. “Come on. We’ll find a snack and you can tell me about yourself.”

  Tisiphone was skeptical that that would happen. She eyed the bridge and knew she was in the future, maybe even at the point in time forecast by Hera when the darkfire would be set free. At the very least, she’d need time to orient herself, to locate the Pyr and to discover whether the elemental daughters had mated with the dragon shifters.

  Viv Jason might be of assistance in Tisiphone’s quest, or she might provide a nice snack herself.

  * * *

  Aura looked up to find Hera watching her.

  “You will love him more even than you do now,” the goddess murmured.

  “Not if he dies! Can you help him, Hera?”

  Hera didn’t reply, just extended her hand. Aura knew exactly what she wanted, and dared to hope its power would be enough. She removed the golden apple from her tunic and surrendered it to the goddess to whom it rightfully belonged. “I am sorry that I stole it, Hera. I am sorry that I gave him a bite...”

  “But you had to know the truth of his heart.” The goddess smiled. “I know you would not be cavalier with such treasures, Aura. I raised you, after all.”

  Aura bowed low. “Thank you for banishing she-who-should-not-be-named...”

  “She’s not gone, Aura, not really. She is outside of time, waiting for her opportunity. I can’t undermine an edict of Hades, but I could delay it. You and your Pyr will be safe from her, as will your children and their children, but one day, the dragons will have to answer for her sister’s death.”

  “I understand.” Aura smiled at the goddess who had been like a mother to her. “Thank you.”

  Hera smiled back at her, then considered the apple. She took a bite of it herself, then to Aura’s surprise, the goddess knelt by the fallen pilgrim. Aura had thought he was dead, but he moaned softly, apparently realizing Hera was near.

  “Great lady, I am sorry that you see me in this state. I would worship you, if I could,” he whispered.

  Hera removed the piece of apple from her mouth and smiled. “You have shown your true measure in being kind to an old beggar woman,” she said quietly. “And by offering the last of your provisions to another.” She touched his lip and placed the piece of apple in his mouth. “And here, pilgrim, is your reward.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed, as if overwhelmed by the taste. “This can’t be...”

  “But it is. My gift to you, friend. Savor it, and it will see you healed.”

  A tear slid from the corner of the pilgrim’s eye, creating a track in the dust on his cheek. “I knew that only the goddess could save me,” he whispered.

  “And so she has,” Hera agreed, bending to kiss his forehead.

  Aura could see the pilgrim’s color changing, his skin turning to a more healthy hue even as she watched. She was impatient for Hera to share her gift with Thad, but knew better than to rush the goddess. She waited, hands knotted together, gaze flicking to Thad, and watched.

  “Sleep now,” Hera bade the pilgrim. “When you awaken, you will be healed.”

  But he clutched at her hand, apparently amazing himself with his audacity and ability to move. “But lady, I would serve you, wherever you bid me to. You have given me back my life, and I surrender it to you.” He gestured to his missing arm. “Whatever I can do.”

  Hera stood up and looked down at him, her expression benign. “Would you be happy if you worked in my garden?”

  “I can’t imagine anything better.”

  “Then sleep,” Hera said. “And when you awaken, you will find yourself there.” She bent and kissed his brow again, and the pilgrim fell into a peaceful slumber.

  Then Hera turned her gaze upon Aura.

  She held up the apple, clearly anticipating Aura’s question. “It won’t help him,” she said quietly. “He has already eaten of it and you have seen the sum of its influence on him.”

  “He can’t die!”

  “All creatures can die, Aura. Only his own kind can help him.”

  “But I don’t know where to find them, or how to summon them.”

  Hera watched Aura for a long moment, clearly noting the dimmed glow of the firestorm. “What will you do, Aura?”

  “He said we were destined mates. I will stay with him, until the end, whenever that is.” The tree shimmered over Aura’s head, a sweet melody that made her feel her mother agreed with her choice.

  “And what of the firestorm?”

  “Maybe the heat of it will help him. Maybe if I stay close, he will remain warm.”

  “Do you understand why it wasn’t satisfied?”

  Aura shrugged. “Because I didn’t want it to be?”

  Hera shook her head. “Even your will isn’t enough for that,” she said. “Tell me about the firestorm.”

  “It’s the sign that a Pyr has met the woman who can bear his son...”

  “Woman,” Hera repeated, interrupting Aura. “You are a nymph. A woman is mortal. A nymph is immortal. The firestorm is keyed to the connection between Pyr and the treasures of the earth they defend.”

  “Mortals,” Aura murmured. “And the elements.” She looked up at Hera. “Can you make me mortal?”

  The goddess stilled “Are you sure?”

  “He wanted the firestorm to be satisfied so badly. Maybe it would make a difference to him.”

  “It would make a difference to you,” Hera reminded Aura. “And it would be no guarantee. You would be unable to find my garden, ever again, for example.”

  A lump rose in Aura’s throat. She considered Thad and knew that if he’d been healthy, the choice would have been no choice at all. As it stood, she was taking a chance. But she remembered the joy of flying with him, the risk they’d taken together and their exuberance when they had succeeded in reaching this place. She thought of his conviction and his sense of purpose, and she knew that even if the chance of fulfilling his firestorm was small, she had no choice but to try.

  She would willingly have Thad’s son.

  She knew that being mortal would allow her to do that, but she didn’t want to lose the magic of their flight together. She liked that they were both shifters and they way they had frolicked in the air. She was glad that she’d been able to help him in his battle against Ladon, too. She didn’t want to surrender all that she was, even to make his dream come true.

  She wanted them both to remain what they were and be stronger together.

  Then she remembered Nephele’s story. “Those daughters of the elements,” she said to Hera. “The ones you included in your prophecy.” The goddess inclined her head. “Are there Airdaughters in their number?”

  Hera smiled. “Of course. There are daughters associated with each of the four elements, although they are few in number.”

  Aura got to her feet and met the goddess’s gaze. “Would you make me mortal, Hera?” she asked. “Would you make me an Airdaughter, please?”

  The goddess took a step closer and framed Aura’s face in her hands. She bent to kiss her cheeks, one after the other. “I promised your mother to raise you as my own, and to do my best to ensure you found happiness.” She looked into Aura’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Hera. Please,” Aura said with conviction, then bowed her head.

  She felt the touch of the goddess’s lips on the top of her head, even as the air cooled all around her. “Blessed be,” Hera whispered and Aura felt a strange shimmer pass through her body. It was like the tingle that accompanied her changing shape, but was colder and more v
ehement. She understood that her very nature was being changed.

  And she was glad.

  She shivered then opened her eyes, wanting to see the world shift as a result of her changed nature. For a moment, everything was just as it had been. Hera stood before her, her lips curved in a sad smile. The goddess blew a kiss at her, then bent to lift the pilgrim into her arms. He might have weighed as little as a feather for all the strain she showed.

  A fine mist was descending, one that obscured the hills and the road and filled the air with moisture. Hera turned and stepped into the mist, her figure lost to view, even as she took the road that led uphill.

  “I’m sorry, Aura,” whispered Nephele. Aura was glad the shrouding mist was someone she knew.

  “I’m not,” she replied in kind. “I never will be, Nephele, although I will miss you all.”

  The tingle slid from the tips of Aura’s fingers and toes, releasing a faint shimmer in the mist. Aura didn’t know if she would be able to see Nephele or the other nymphs again, or whether they would have to reveal themselves to her by choice. She wasn’t sure what would remain of her powers and what would be lost.

  But she wanted to explore it all with Thad.

  She wasn’t really surprised to discover that she was alone on a deserted hillside, Thad unconscious at her feet and the tree with silvery leaves casting shade over the two of them. There was no sign of Hera or the pilgrim. Aura knew that if she followed the road up to the high pass, she’d never see the garden.

  A soft rain began to fall, and it made the leaves of the tree tinkle softly, as if in sympathy. Aura fell to her knees beside Thad, who remained now in human form, and kissed his cheek. Their lives were bound together now, whatever came to be.

  She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised that no spark emanated from the point of contact between them. The firestorm was satisfied, just as he’d desired. She looked at him, letting her fingertips trail across his cheek and lips. Even though the firestorm was extinguished, he was still the most alluring man she’d ever known.

  She would have his son.

  Aura bent and touched her lips to his, then she twined their fingers together.