Jordan

by Susan Kearney

  He’d wanted to say goodbye to Vivianne, but she had disappeared. It wasn’t like her to be off pouting. But perhaps she needed space to cool down. Jordan pulled the slot-like handle that opened the airlock and shut the door behind him. The seals hissed. He toggled his handheld. “How’s the eye now?”

  “Stable and going to pass right over the island in four minutes,” Gray reported.

  Jordan had to allow time for freefall, then time to fly with the eye as it moved over the island. He pressed a timer on his wrist. “Starting countdown.”

  “Fifty-eight seconds and looking good,” Tennison monitored.

  “You can abort any time up to the last five seconds,” Gray reminded him. “Then the outside hatch will begin to cycle open.”

  “Fifty seconds.”

  Jordan didn’t remind the man he’d designed the system. Instead he rechecked his gear. Knife, Staff, harness, and winter clothing all packed and ready to fly.

  “Forty seconds.”

  “The eye’s spinning. Wind speed at the wall is over two-fifty,” Gray said.

  “Still on target?” Jordan asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thirty seconds.”

  The Draco shuddered.

  “Status report.” Jordan demanded.

  “We caught an air pocket and slipped a little. I’ve corrected,” Gray responded.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  Jordan turned to the outer hatch and peered through the airlock’s tiny window. Dark skies and a few pale stars winked through the thin upper atmosphere. Again the ship shuddered.

  “What’s our exterior temperature?”

  “Fifty below. You need to drop down fast.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “Tell Vivianne that I’ll be back soon.”

  “Roger that,” Gray said. “Five seconds.”

  Jordan clasped the ball on the airlock’s handle and tugged. The outside lock began to cycle.

  Jordan heard a thud. He glanced over his shoulder to see Vivianne beside him. Fuck. All this time she’d been above his head, plastered against the ceiling, waiting until the very last moment to reveal her presence.

  He swore. “What in the seven hells of Hades are you doing here?”

  Battle-hardened soldiers had cowered at his fury. She didn’t so much as wince. Her eyes flashed fire.

  “Like it or not, I’m going with you.”

  It was too late to send her back.

  “Hell’s ass, you’re one stubborn woman.” Furious and worried about her safety, he glared at her. “Don’t blame me if you get yourself killed.”

  Just as the door opened, he threw both arms around her and held her tightly. Then together they tumbled out of the airlock. Into freefall.

  Freezing cold slammed into him, and subzero winds plucked at his clothing. He pulled Vi’s face against his chest, shielding her from the worst of the wind. “Don’t dragonshape yet, or the wind will tear off your wings.”

  “I know the plan.”

  “Don’t talk. Don’t breathe.” The air could freeze their lungs.

  At least she wasn’t panicking in the icy freefall. However, once they got down, if they got down, he would… he would… what? Damn her. She’d left him no options. He could only do so much to ensure that she stayed alive. She’d had no business coming along. He didn’t even know if he could fly through this storm, and she hadn’t his experience, his muscles, or his mass.

  Even as his fury hammered him, he kept count of the time. After sixty seconds they could dragonshape. He just hoped his limbs weren’t frozen solid by then.

  “Ready?” he shouted to be heard against the snapping wind.

  Vivianne quipped through half-frozen lips, “I was born ready.”

  VIVIANNE COULDN’T LET Jordan come down to Tempest alone. She just prayed she’d be useful, because fury radiated from him in fierce waves. She’d prove herself able.

  Just a few more seconds and she could dragonshape. Until then, she ignored the swooping in her stomach that she told herself was from the freefall and not Jordan’s anger.

  “Now.” Jordan released her, and for a second the wind bit into her from every angle.

  Then she morphed into her dragon shape. Her clothes shredded. Her dragon skin thickened and protected her against the cold. Her eyesight sharpened, and her bones changed to a honeycombed structure that allowed her to spread her wings. She also lost much of her superior human intellect, but she gained strength. She didn’t try to fly. Instead she ducked her head, tucked her wings against her sides, and streamlined her massive body to dive toward the eye, easily discernable in the swirling storm below.

  Aim for the center. Jordan sent the order telepathically.

  Of course. Dragons didn’t have vocal cords but could convey simple conversations through mental telepathy. Even if this world had been full of dragons, she would have recognized his tough, dominant, and angry mental signature as easily as his voice.

  Jordan, with his heavier mass and stronger muscles, could have withstood a steeper descent, but he spread his wings to slow his dive. She supposed later he would blame her for slowing him down. But she hadn’t asked him to wait.

  When they reached the swirling white cloud system of the upper eye, the pressure systems changed and the wind gusted in blasts that battered her. She opened her wings a bit, testing, trying to stabilize, but mostly trying to ride the air gusts.

  Careful. He nudged her away from the eye wall.

  I’m fine.

  Just stay that way.

  The wind blasted sideways, and she spread her wings wider to fly level. A giant downdraft almost flipped her upside down. She corrected to the right, overcorrected to the left, almost somersaulted, then flattened out.

  She peered down through the eye at the steep, icy cliffs rising from the island. At lower elevations the blizzard was blowing so much snow there were swirling white-out conditions.

  Hurry. Jordan’s worry came through with his thoughts.

  She didn’t understand his sudden concern until she looked directly below. The eye wall where the winds were most severe was calving the mountain cliffs like a glacier. House-sized chunks of snow and ice broke off from the sheer face. If any of that frozen debris hit them, it would hurt. A lot.

  Tucking her wings closer to her body, she squinted against the snow and plummeted. The last few thousand feet, Jordan took the lead.

  Flying in formation directly behind Jordan, she spied a hunk of debris shooting toward them. To your right, she warned.

  He banked and she followed as rocks the size of her Lexus—and black icicles so huge that any one of them could cause a deathblow—whizzed by.

  Talk about flying blind. She couldn’t see the ground through the thick snow. She couldn’t see her own wings.

  In that moment she decided that Hell wasn’t rife with red hot fire, Hell was deadly white and miserably cold.

  She kept her nose right on Jordan’s tail to avoid losing him in the whiteout. Sensing the ground coming up before she actually saw it, she extended her legs and claws to touch down. Just as she landed, the wind blasted. She stumbled and rolled, her dragon’s body tumbling over ice and snow. A chunk of ice dug into her leg, and another slammed her wing. But finally she stopped somersaulting and skidded to a stop. Rising to a crouch in the high wind, she spat snow and pebbles from her mouth, the taste bitter.

  Jordan?

  You okay? He lumbered up behind her.

  She prayed he hadn’t witnessed her clumsy landing. She was lucky she hadn’t broken her neck. Or leg. A lot of damn help she’d be if she’d gotten seriously hurt.

  He humanshaped and changed into the heavy clothes he’d packed. She stayed in dragon form. Unless he needed her, she saw no reason to freeze alongside him.

  Jordan removed the Staff from the harness, and it pulsed with light. He held it in front of him and slowly turned in a full circle. But when he faced into the wind, the Staff’s flashes were closer together.

  “
This way,” he shouted. He took two steps and fell in snow up to his waist.

  Swearing all the while, he struggled to dig himself out. Finally he was free, until five steps later he fell into another drift up to his neck.

  This time, she flattened the snow next to him with her wing and he easily walked out. “Thanks. I’d ask for a ride, but I don’t think we have far to go.”

  Four steps later, the Staff’s light stopped blinking and remained bright. He stopped and turned. No matter which way he stepped, the light weakened. He resheathed the Staff. “The key must be under me.”

  She gestured with her wing for him to move back so she could dig with her powerful rear legs to clear about ten feet of snow. Then she hit something hard.

  “Let me see.” He jumped into the hole. “There’s nothing down here but solid ice. Lift me out.”

  She ducked her head into the snow hole, and he grabbed her harness and she easily hauled him out. Now what?

  He pointed. “Melt the ice for me.”

  For a guy who hadn’t wanted her to come along, he sure didn’t hesitate to order her to do his bidding. Of course, he could do all this himself, dragonshaping, then humanshaping. But at least she was saving him time. And energy. When he stepped aside, she roared out a long, hot flame and focused the blaze on the ice.

  When he grabbed her harness, she carefully lowered him into the hole. The bottom of the crater was now filled with water, but the surface was quickly refreezing.

  “I don’t see—wait—over there.” He pointed to the water. “It’s right down there. But I can’t swim in this gear. Lift me out.”

  She complied and watched him remove his gear and begin to shiver. “H-heat the water for me. Not t-too much,” he instructed. “I don’t want to b-boil.”

  She breathed fire into the water. Then watched him jump in. He swam underwater for what seemed like a long time. Then his head burst to the surface, his blue eyes gleaming with triumph. “Got it!”

  Quickly, she ducked her head down to lift him out and watched as the water froze on his skin.

  After setting him down on the snow, she roared more fire near him, careful not to singe him. Quickly, he snapped the key into the Staff and dragonshaped.

  That was close. His thoughts came at her with a blast of cold. He’d almost frozen down there.

  More fire?

  No time. Let’s fly.

  He lifted off. She began to follow. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a boulder heading right for Jordan.

  To your left.

  He banked right. But since he was only about a meter off the ground, he couldn’t maneuver well. There was no time, no room, for him to duck or swerve. He wasn’t going to make it.

  Lunging with her powerful dragon legs, she jumped onto the boulder, hoping to crush it into the snow with her great mass. The snow crunched under her weight, and she slowed the boulder’s progress just enough for Jordan to fly away uninjured.

  But the boulder didn’t stop dead. It skidded and kept rolling.

  Next thing she knew, she was plowing snow with her face. Snow in her eyes, snow in her ears, snow under her talons. Her world went white.

  Keep your face to the stars and you can’t see the dirt.

  —LUCAN ROARKE

  19

  Wake up. In dragon form Jordan nudged Vi’s body, his fear battling with his anger. What had she been thinking to throw herself on top of the boulder like that? He’d seen the danger and had been about to veer safely away when she’d jumped onto it. She might as well have been trying to stop a charging bull by leaping onto its back. And if she couldn’t fly… Goddess, she had to be all right.

  Wake up. Wake up.

  She didn’t respond. But he could see her dragon’s chest rising and falling.

  He swore and nudged her again. With his wing, he gently swept the snow from her face.

  She groaned and opened her eyes. Thank the Goddess.

  But then she closed her eyes again and she didn’t move. Panic and fear twisted inside him. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t lose Vi, too.

  Are you hurt?

  She didn’t respond. Was she conscious? He saw no twisted limbs or blood, but she could have internal injuries.

  Damn it. She had to fly out of here with him. The Draco couldn’t set down in these storms. And he had to return with the Staff.

  But leaving her… was not a choice he could make. Just the thought made his double hearts ache with sorrow and frustration. He was not going to lose her.

  Damn it, answer me. Am I going to have to fly you out of here?

  She moaned. Her eyelids fluttered.

  Come on. Wake up, Vi.

  She shuddered. And then finally, she opened her eyes, and this time they remained open. She raised her head. Blinked.

  I’m here. Are you hurt? he asked again.

  She shook her head and snow went flying all over him, then she lumbered to her feet. Just got the wind knocked out of me.

  He wanted to give a mental shout at her that she shouldn’t have followed him. That it was insane for her to have risked her life to stop that boulder. That she could have died and he would have had to go on alone.

  He trembled as the aftershocks whipped through him. But he sent none of those furious thoughts. He was too damn relieved to see her climbing to her feet.

  How long was I out? she asked.

  A few minutes. It had seemed like hours. He shifted position to block the worst of the wind from her. Glancing at the sky, he tried to spot the advancing eye wall, but the whiteout hid the encroaching danger.

  She tested her wings. We need to get back to the ship.

  You can fly?

  She launched into the air. He would have preferred she’d used more speed and that she wasn’t favoring one wing, but they had no choice.

  The winds were already increasing, signaling the eye wall was closing in. They’d delayed too long. The deadly eye wall was like a tornado, spinning madly. In human form he wouldn’t have been able to stand. And not even his dragon strength could fly through this biting, blinding snow.

  While Vivianne didn’t even suggest turning back, to continue was… death.

  They would fail. And be stranded here.

  But then lightning seemed to illuminate the entire sky. Vivianne’s dark dragon silhouette was outlined in startling white.

  What’s happening? she asked.

  It took him a moment to comprehend; the light wasn’t a natural phenomenon.

  Light radiated from the Ancient Staff and shined right through the sheath.

  The Wind Key’s containing the storm.

  Vivianne didn’t question him. She caught a thermal updraft and soared toward the Draco in a long spiral. He followed, watching her carefully. At the first sign of trouble, he’d demand she humanshape and he’d scoop her out of the air, carry her on his back. But she kept flying.

  Even with the wind knocked back, his wings iced, snow clung and weighed him down. And she must be having trouble, too. We need to deice.

  How?

  He slowed to gain a little distance, then roared fire in her direction, using just enough heat to melt the snow without singeing her wings.

  Your turn, she offered, her mental tone weary.

  They switched places, but when she tried to return the favor, she couldn’t shoot fire. I’m low on platinum, she admitted.

  Not good. Dragons ate platinum and hydrogen to fuel their bodies. But they’d expended huge reserves to retrieve the key. Every time she’d roared fire, she’d burned massive amounts of energy. Just keeping warm used more reserves, never mind flying against these gale-force winds. While he could draw energy from the Staff, if her platinum level fell too much, she might not make it back to the Draco.

  He put extra muscle power into his heavy wings, but his concerns for her safety escalated. With the snow and ice weighing him down, there was no way he could carry her, too.

  Timing would be critical. They had to match the Draco’s speed,
but they didn’t have instruments to guide them. They had only their keen eyesight, their tired wings, and the tiny airlock for a target. And a ship that likely didn’t have enough fuel for a second attempt.

  When they finally cleared the planetary storms, they flew higher into the thin atmosphere. The wind diminished, but the temperature plummeted. He tapped one ankle against the other that held the communicator, his signal to the ship.

  I don’t see the Draco. Exhaustion came through her thoughts on a layer of pain.

  They’ll be here soon. You go first, he ordered, and when she didn’t even argue, his concern deepened. Don’t try to match the Draco’s velocity. Fly a little forward, a little high. I’ll signal when to morph. Then grab the airlock and pull yourself inside.

  The ship, a tiny dot on the horizon, approached with startling speed. There they are. Fly closer. Closer.

  Wings dipping unsteadily, she was clearly at the end of her strength.

  He tried to encourage her. You look good. Now wait for it. Wait. Wait. The lock opened. Now.

  She morphed into human form. Reaching out with her arms and hands, she grabbed the airlock’s deck. And dangled. She kicked. But the wind tore at her, and she didn’t have the upper-body strength to pull herself inside.

  No one could cling to the airlock for more than a few seconds. Jordan humanshaped. With one hand, he latched on to the airlock. With the other, he shoved her inside.

  But then the wind was tearing at him, and he couldn’t pull himself up with only one hand, couldn’t reach a handhold with the other.

  Vi scrambled around to face him, braced her feet on either side of the airlock. She held out her hands to him. “I’ve got you.”

  He had to release his handhold on the airlock. Had to trust her to reel him in. Her exhaustion flashed through his mind. But seeing the determination on her face, he let go of the ship.

  For a split second, he slid backward. Then she grabbed his hands, heaved, and pulled him inside so hard that he landed on top of her. Reaching up, he jerked down the handle to shut the outside hatch.

  “That was fun,” she panted.

  “You almost got us both killed,” he muttered, scowling into her beautiful eyes.