by S. D. Grimm
“Feeling all right, pet?”
Ryan opened his eyes to see Belladonna staring back at him in the mirror. Her beauty caused his stomach to flip. He smiled at her. “Can’t we just stay here? The view is . . . intoxicating.”
Belladonna ran her tongue along her lips. “Like I said, I value my head. She’ll take yours, too, once your purpose is complete, so play her little game first, and I might be able to save you.”
Ryan walked up to her and touched her smooth cheek with his hand. “I like your head right where it is, too. You want me to play? I’ll play. Whatever you wish.”
Belladonna’s lips parted, then she blinked and shook her head. “Yes. Well, let’s meet her then, shall we?” She walked to the door and opened it, motioning for him to follow.
He followed her and, once outside the door, three other men dressed just like him fell in line with them. Belladonna led them down through the back doors and into the private court of the king and his subjects.
Sun hit Ryan’s face. When was the last time warmth like that had touched him? How long had he spent in that dungeon? A breeze rippled past, pushing the scent of pears away from him. They passed a training field full of soldiers. A large army. He wondered if Logan might like to know how large—Logan? A splitting pain hit Ryan’s head. Who was Logan? And where had that thought come from? Perhaps too much fresh air without any for days was giving him a headache. No. He remembered sunshine. And it was red.
Red.
So much red.
The last time he’d been here, she’d—shaking, he looked at Belladonna’s back as she continued toward the courtyard. She’d made him kill people.
He’d killed innocent people.
Ryan stumbled to his knee as he remembered what he’d done. Was it only a day ago? And how had she made him do such horrible things? His head throbbed and he pressed the heel of his hand against his eye.
“Ryan?” Belladonna’s voice brought him to his feet. He grabbed his sword—which she was stupid to give him—and before he could swing, her hand touched his shoulder. The pain of a dozen torture sessions slammed into him, and he buckled forward. She steadied him and her lips met his. The scent of pears flooded him. Pain melted away. All his thoughts clouded. He wanted to wrap his arms around her. Her hand on his chest stopped him. “You can’t keep forgetting who you are, pet.” She glanced at the soldiers practicing in the field. “If you wish to practice with them to stay sharp, I can arrange that.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her. “I would.”
“Good.” She grabbed his face and pulled him close, her lips touching his again in that fruit-filled explosion. He shook his head. Thoughts dulled until one remained: he loved Belladonna.
He’d killed those people because she’d asked him to. That was all that mattered.
Because he loved her.
She smiled as her hands slid over his arms. Then she gripped his hand and towed him through the courtyard, past the garden, and into another court. There she dropped his hand and curtseyed.
The Mistress stood in front of him, eyes searching his face. “I got you a gift.”
Ryan bowed. The Mistress smiled. Then she snapped her fingers. Two dozen men strode forward carrying heavy chains. On the end of the chains was a massive, charcoal-black dragon. Ryan stepped back, his heartbeat thundering against his ribs. Were they mad? His breathing evened when he noticed the iron muzzle sealing the beast’s mouth closed.
The chains held nets that bound the dragon’s wings. The creature was trapped, and brooding. As soon as a man got close to its tail, the dragon thrashed. The tail rammed into four men and sent them sprawling. Then it slammed the spiked end of its tail into the man, spearing him through.
Ryan shivered and the cloud in his thoughts cleared. “Wh-why would I want that?”
Belladonna glared at him with that crazy gleam in her eyes that told him to shut up and comply.
The Mistress of Shadows glided closer to him. “They tell me you can tame dragons.”
They what? He was sure his eyes had popped out of his head. Whoever gave her that information wanted him dead.
The Mistress’s eyes narrowed. “No one else’s skin could survive the bull like that with no more than a blistering. So go on. Tame it.”
How he was supposed to tame a dragon was beyond him, and suddenly it was his problem. Why were people always expecting more of him than he was capable of? And it was always a woman on the other end of things, too.
“I . . .”
“Do we have a problem, pet?” Belladonna leaned closer and her hand rested on the whip at her belt. Heat flooded through Ryan’s core. His pulse raced.
The Mistress narrowed her eyes. “But I have brought all these villagers inside the courtyard to watch the mighty Knight slay the dragon.” She motioned behind her where a crowd of wide-eyed faces met him. Women. Children. And every single one of them looked as scared as he felt.
The Mistress smiled. “Release it.”
“What?” Ryan staggered back. He tried to calm the shaking in his breaths. “I—I’ve never even seen a dragon before.”
“All the more reason to test your special talents.”
“Just try.” Belladonna purred in his ear.
Right. She had nothing on the line. For him it was his life.
The soldiers dropped the chains and pulled the contraptions holding the dragon captive free. The dragon spread his black wings and reared onto his hind legs, blocking out the sun. He stretched his long neck—tall like the trees in the Forest of Legends—and Ryan trembled. The villagers screamed, scrambling to find a way out. Quaking soldiers stood their ground, preventing the villagers from leaving. The earth shook as the dragon’s front legs thudded against the soil.
Its massive, horned head weaved back and forth as if searching for prey. Men and women scattered from its shadow, screaming. And its amber eyes locked onto Ryan. “Why aren’t you running?”
Good question. Had Belladonna’s whip scared him so much that he feared her over dragon’s fire? He cursed himself.
“You don’t need to fear him.” The Mistress’s voice hissed in Ryan’s head. “Tame it.”
The dragon roared, and it sounded like a carriage riding over gravel. The echo of it thundered in Ryan’s head. “You’d be stupid to not fear me.”
It opened its mouth and flame, like the belly of a forge, churned in its gullet. The dragon’s voice echoed in Ryan’s skull. “Run.”
But the dragon aimed fire at the innocent villagers and soldiers who were trying to escape. They’d be killed. Ryan ripped his sword free and ran to—to what? Deflect flame with his sword? There. He saw an abandoned shield and scooped it up as he slid across the gravel. The dragon’s eyes shifted, and Ryan’s heart jolted as he saw where the beast looked. Three children huddled in a cluster in the dragon’s sights. The dragon opened his mouth.
Ryan swore and raced in front of the kids, screams resounding in his ears. He curled up behind the circular piece of metal and wood that he knew would do nothing but melt and burn in the fire and held his sword ready. Fire slammed into his shield with a force that pushed him backward. He held tight to the only things protecting those kids as heat encompassed him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he looked at the kids. They stared back at him, eyes wide, as his shield cut the flames, redirecting the fire around the kids.
As soon as the steam let up, he told the kids to run, and as they raced into the crowd, Ryan peered over the shield at the dragon. “Stop! Please! They set you free! Go.”
“Go?” The dragon’s chuckle shook the ground. “But there is so much to torment right here.”
“What do you want?”
Smoke poured from its nose, swirling around Ryan. And the dragon snaked its head closer. “You’re offering me something in exchange for these insignificant lives?”
Ryan straightened his spine and faced the dragon head on. Who cared if he died saving someone? He didn’t have anything to live for now. A life here in the pala
ce was no life.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed. “The shield you carry suits you.”
Ryan glanced down at the warped and charred emblem of the muzzled dragon. “I’m no dragon tamer, no matter what they say.”
“No. You are the muzzled dragon.”
Every muscle in Ryan’s body quivered. How dare this beast call him that? He was a dragon in its lair. Waiting. Biding. “What’s your name?”
Thoughts pulsed into Ryan’s mind. A thick, draping smoke cloud rose over him, encompassed him, blinded him, stung his eyes and his nose—it nearly choked him.
“Smoke?”
“Yes. Sssmoke.”
“And what do you want?”
“A heart to bond to.” One amber eye winked. “You heart is just where I belong. So dark and comfortable.”
“Dark?” When did that happen? This was a trick, it had to be. Hadn’t he been luring the Mistress and Belladonna into a trap? Hadn’t he been on the side of right and justice and truth? Hadn’t—? The headache stopped him short again and he pressed his palm into his eye.
“Oh yesss. Dark, like the heart of one bitten by a black lion.”
Black lion? Snare that stupid creature. Would he ever be free of it?
Rabbit quick, the dragon encircled Ryan with his serpentine neck. His curled horn brushed against Ryan’s chin, and Smoke locked his amber gaze on Ryan’s face. “A nice heart to belong to.”
“That isn’t who I am.” He shuddered.
Smoke’s deep chuckle vibrated against him. “Give it time. You’re her vessel now.”
Vessel? “You deceived me.”
“That’s what dragons do.”
One sharp clap punctured the still, silent air, and Ryan looked to see the Mistress coming toward him, offering her applause. “Behold your dragon tamer!”
All the townspeople began echoing the applause.
Ryan lowered his sword and shook his head. He pushed against Smoke’s hard, black scales. “I’m—”
A flash in Belladonna’s eyes told him to stop talking. “You have done well today and pleased the Mistress.” She stepped around Smoke’s head, drawing closer, pushing Ryan into the dragon’s skin. Her lips pressed against his. Why? Why did she keep . . . oh, that’s right. He loved her.
Smoke laughed.
Chapter 25
Night Terrors
You’re sure?” Logan turned to Quinn, who had led them through the decaying land of the shadow wolves for an entire day. She’d stopped and stood with her eyes closed, stating that this was the place.
“Does it seem different to you?” Logan reached out to Westwind.
Westwind tilted his head toward the sky and sniffed. “It doesn’t smell or taste different. But it feels different. Warmer. Fresher.” He nosed Quinn while she stood motionless. “She is deep in her conversation with them?”
“The trees? Yes.” The trees had led her further into the changing labyrinth.
After a night of fighting and day of travel, exhaustion caused most of Logan’s men and women to stumble. They couldn’t take much more of this. And Jayden was so weak from calling lightning every few hours to keep the beasts at bay while they tried to find the border to this level. She worried him.
Ethan, too. He wouldn’t leave Jayden’s side even as she rode on Stormcloud.
Quinn opened her eyes. “We are out of range here. Safe for now. But the maelvargs lie ahead of us.” She dropped to the dirt and began to draw another map.
Logan turned to his army. “Set up camp. We rest while we can.” He touched Quinn’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
She looked up at him and smiled. So much older now. She appeared the age of the Deliverers.
Once the others set up camp and half of the troops were resting, Logan took Gavin closer to the red horizon. “Do you think Glider will go ahead and tell us what he sees?”
Gavin crouched down and trailed his finger over the dry ground. “Look. It’s cracked.”
Logan glanced up at his friend. “Their domain.”
“How long before the Mistress gains more power?” Gavin looked out over the barren stretch of land ahead of them. Dead, charred trees littered the ground in what resembled an old battlefield. “Glider says he’ll fly over and report what he sees.”
“Logan?” Morgan’s meek voice interrupted them.
He excused himself from Gavin and joined her. The strange twinge in his chest told him Westwind was listening and feared what Morgan had to say. He loped up beside Logan and walked with him and Morgan. “You have news?”
Her green eyes were pools of sorrow. “There’s a monster. You have a wooden coin that a Wielder carved for you?”
The token. The one with two wolf heads on it. Anna had said it marked him as a Protector. “I do.”
“It’s a key of some sort. It opens a door. And you’ll need it if you’re to defeat the monster. Her name is Garmr.”
Garmr. He knew that name. Quinn had said it. Garmr was one of the Mistress’s hounds. “It comes for the Deliverers?”
“Yes. And if you don’t defeat this creature, it will take all the Deliverers. Garmr kills with fear. That’s how her power works. She latches onto their fears and lets them grow until the fear suffocates her prey. The Mistress will use her to kill the Deliverers once she gets what she needs.” Tears glistened unshed in Morgan’s eyes. “You will need to go to her realm. You’ll be immortal there. And only then can you kill her. In your immortal state.”
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “I wish I could tell you. That’s all I know.”
Westwind sat beside Logan, and he realized he’d stopped walking. The way Morgan looked at him made him wonder if defeating this Garmr sealed his fate, but he didn’t dare ask. His heart sank like a stone. Then it crumbled. But the pieces seemed to thread back together. It didn’t matter if this was his end. He was their Protector. He would do whatever it took.
“Thank you.”
She touched his arm gently.
Westwind stood and faced him. His amber eyes soft. “We will defeat this Garmr.”
“Yes.”
“And you will not be alone.”
Logan crouched in front of his friend and stroked Westwind’s shoulder. “I know.”
When night came, more fell asleep. Gavin had informed Logan that Glider had seen the strange, spiked monsters from Quinn’s book. As soon as she woke, he would ask her how to defeat them. For now, his people needed rest.
Rebekah sat up as he approached her, finally ready to bed down. She traced the worry lines on his face. “They are my worry as well.”
“I wonder if I should just lead them back the way we’ve come. At any moment her power could expand.”
“And how would you rescue Ryan and Serena and Connor?”
He sighed. “I would have to go in with a few Dissenters.”
“You won’t make it.”
“Then I go in myself. Stormcloud or Zephyr could take me.”
“And how would you bring them all back?”
He rubbed his face in his hands, and Rebekah wrapped her arms around him.
Screams resounded from his men and women. Logan jumped to his feet and rushed toward them. A crowd showed him where to go.
There in the middle of the crowd, on the dry, cracked earth, sat a young girl pressing a blade to Morgan’s throat. Bedrolls had been pushed aside in what looked like a struggle.
Westwind jumped into the girl with the weapon, knocking her aside. Morgan scrambled away. The girl, her eyes glazed red, scanned the area, and she snarled at Westwind, holding the knife in front of her.
“She’s rabid.” Westwind growled back, hackles raised.
“What happened?” Logan asked Morgan.
“I don’t know. I was asleep, and the next thing I knew, I woke up to her holding a knife over my bed. She looked so strange. Look at her. It’s not normal.”
“Did she eat any berries? Show any sign of sickness?”
“One of
those nightmare creatures bit her,” Quinn said.
Logan looked over his shoulder to find Quinn walking nearer. He held out his hand to stop her from getting too close.
The girl squatted low, snarling at anyone who moved. Black veins began to form around her eyes.
“Logan, she’s scared more than anything.”
“It’s a nightmare. She’s trapped in it.” A tear slid down Quinn’s cheek. “If she doesn’t get free, it’ll kill her. Once they get the black veins, there’s no curing them.”
More screams resounded from different areas in the camp.
Quinn looked up at Logan, tears streaming down her face. “They’re dying in their sleep.”
“And killing others.” Logan looked at the girl who still snarled at Westwind. “Melanie said thirty-nine were bitten.”
The girl with the knife screamed. “No! Don’t eat me! Don’t! Get off!”
“She’s reliving it!” Quinn pressed her hand over her mouth.
The girl turned her knife against her throat. “I said get off!”
Logan jumped over bedrolls to stop her. Too late. He caught her as her blood dripped warm and red out of her throat. Her red eyes cleared as she looked up at him. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She breathed her last.
His heart clutched. He faced Morgan, and she fell to her knees with one hand covering her neck. “I didn’t see this coming.”
Chapter 26
Simple Plans
Serena stared at the map Kara had drawn in the dirt until her eyes crossed. A piece of bread landed on her lap.
“Eat. Once you’re in the castle, you won’t know when your next meal will come.” Kara bit off a piece of bread and spoke around it. “So what’s your marvelous plan for getting out?”
“Yes, Serena, do tell.”
She picked up a stick and held one end over Kara’s map. “That all depends on whether she’s keeping Ryan in these dungeons or these.” The stick tip dented the dirt where she’d pointed.