Burn

by Penelope Fletcher

  Jakob’s heart sank.

  Perhaps the youngling only thought he found the Princess.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Marina is a Dragon,” Viktor blurted, crystal clear, not a lisp or stutter in sight.

  Jakob’s mind blanked. He sucked in a breath and gripped the hilt of his katana. The breath released in a hiss. “A Dragon Lady?” He scowled, his grip on his weapon tightening. “Youngling, this is no time for sick jokes. Men are grieving. If the King were to overhear you–”

  “I hid her in the mountain pass.” Worried the male would turn and leave Viktor grabbed his sleeve. “A cave. I took her to a cave, and used my fangs to chew off the scoria. She needs help. Now. She will fade, Jakob. I think this was her first time shifting. I remember my first. I was completely drained and disorientated. Father had to force me to change back into human before I forgot how.” Slashes of hot colour flared across his cheeks and temples. He was completely mortified to be confessing he possessed greater weakness than his speech problems. “I could not shift with ease from one form to another for many years. I think she has forgotten her human self. Maybe she does not how to change back. She has had no guide.” He shrugged helplessly. “Either way, she needs help.”

  Jakob saw the youngling believed what he said.

  He sighed gustily. “Are you sure you have not stumbled across some wild dragon female?”

  Viktor looked frustrated. “It is Marina.” His stressed face tuned redder as his emotions bubbled and boiled over. “She spoke to my mind. Look into her eyes and you will know it too.”

  “Maybe you imagined–”

  “No! She spoke. I know it is her. I know.”

  Jakob opened his mouth and then a memory struck him.

  The scale.

  He remembered the intense look in Marina’s eye when she handed him the black dragon scale after her second quest. He recalled the blush that rose to her cheeks when he told her it was beautiful.

  The day before her third quest she had refused training.

  Instead, she descended into the bowels of the Citadel to visit the archives, much his confusion, only re-emerging to scamper off to AshMount muttering about visiting Council Mon Leonid, an ancient Dragon, the last Phoenix to have produced offspring with his Treasure.

  And he had held a female dragon scale.

  Surely it cannot be.

  “Why come to me?” Jakob asked in as neutral a voice as possible. His mind raced as it pieced together other strange things he had noticed about the High Princess but dismissed. “Why did you not seek out the King?” Then he remembered the youngling had come to the throne room kicking up a fuss and had been escorted away. His heart kicked painfully as he realized no one had listened. “You-”

  “Yes, I tried.” Viktor balled his hands into fists, angry at his original failure to get his cousin help. “I could not get near the King, or Council Mon Zar. Lord Kol listened, as I am from a House in the Wyvrae Court, and Marina named us kin.” Pride infused his voice as he spoke, and his back straightened. The bluster left him with his next words. He slouched, his face forlorn. “He threw me to the guards when I told him. My Sire did not even believe me. He was drunk! I was thrown back into my House apartments and left to await Captain Vadik.” His eyes were sad. “They believed I mocked her death.”

  “A healer.” Jakob dragged a hand through his silver mane, his mind racing. “The Mage, Khan, would never follow me to such a place with such a tale, and I know nothing of how to tend a Dragon female. I do not know her people well enough for them to trust me either. They accepted my presence because she forced them. They couldn’t wait to get rid of me after she was pronounced lost.” He lowered his voice. “I am here to spy for the King, but he does not truly believe what I learn will be of worth. I am likely to get the same reaction as you if I tell them this story, if not worse.”

  “She appointed you her Second. She trusted you.” Viktor met the other male’s gaze squarely. “Each second I waste is a moment she comes closer to fading. I thought you would know what to do. Please. You do not even have to truly believe, just help me.” His eyes watered. “Please. I cannot fail her.”

  Jakob’s mind was cast back to the throne room.

  The Dragon King had looked about him and asked how they could have failed her.

  Incredulous, Jakob scrubbed a hand over his face.

  Am I a fool?

  He could not brush the youngling aside. If there was a chance Marina was alive, he wanted to help. Viktor had not lied when he said she – for some reason – trusted him, and anointed him the position of her advisor so he could be to her what Lord Kol was to the Dragon King.

  Here I stand wavering when she may need me. If there is the slightest of chances that she is alive....

  Gaze sharpening, he scanned the derelict locale for onlookers.

  Jakob drew the angst-ridden youngling deeper into the shadow of the decrepit hostelry. “Take me to her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Jakob was a strong male. He’d been through hell, and kept a piece of it for his own. He dealt with life’s challenges as they came, and never truly expected things to turn out right.

  As he stared at the horned Dragoness reclining on a bed of dry leaves, his world began anew.

  He believed.

  “Marina?”

  The Dragoness blinked, her dark, crystalline orbs glimmering with intelligence. She tossed her head, and her slender maw cracked in what Jakob swore was a grin.

  Barking a laugh, he slapped a hand to his forehead and paced.

  Spun to her and ordered, “Shift back.”

  She yawned, flashing ivory fangs and then lowered her snout onto her foreclaws. She looked at him haughtily, as if to say, ‘Already tried that. Dumbass.’

  A hacking cough wracked her frame. Her whole hide seemed to shudder and convulse.

  She turned her head to lethargically spew a puddle of brimstone onto the cool ground. When it was done, she grumbled, and rolled onto her side, leathery wings slapping at her underbelly as if it ached.

  Jakob noticed the savaged remains of some jungle creature – blood, bones, spittle, and fur.

  Maybe she had heartburn?

  “She keeps doing that,” Viktor said, wringing his hands. “I think it is because she was submerged in the magma for so long. He paused thoughtfully. “She looks much better than before. Her breathing is better, she ate the meat I hunted, and she is moving about.”

  “That can only be a good thing.” Jakob was relieved. He had no idea how to safely fetch a healer, so if she mended on her own, it meant there was a good chance he could keep this situation contained, giving him time to reason out what steps to take next.

  Foremost, he needed to get the Dragon King back on this mountain. Telling the male the truth would result in getting his head ripped off. The best and quickest way to lure him in was with a lie. Easy enough, he thought optimistically. He would tell Koen Raad he uncovered intelligence of Ja refugees hiding in the very cave his Treasure hid in.

  The hard part would be convincing him the mute dragoness was his supposedly dead mate.

  Surely, the male would know? Wouldn’t he sense his beloved stood before him, even if she had done the impossible and shifted into dragonskin?

  “Jakob?” Calling out, a white-haired Dragon Lord with an enormously handsome face hovered at the cave threshold.

  He peered in, but went no further. He knew better than to enter. Wild ones did not tolerate their lairs being invaded. He looked around in confusion. He was not sure where he was, or what was up here in the wilderness that would have drawn his kin’s interest.

  “What are you doing up here, Jak?”

  “Maksim?” Jakob rushed out of the cave. He stared at his brother in shock. “What the hells are you...?” His face blanked, blackened with resentment. Nostrils flaring, his fists clenched. “You followed me.”

  “Well, yes. You acted strangely. First, you say you are sick of being a criminal then
leave to go live in the Citadel as that runty Chosen’s lap dog. Days later you return and say you are no longer welcome by her people and want in on my plans.” The man sounded put out, but not truly irate or suspicious. “Then you disappear again when things start to get good. What are you...?”

  He trailed off when Viktor ran out to see what was going on. He jerked to a stop and looked between them anxiously.

  “Go back inside,” Jakob ordered without turning.

  Viktor looked nervously over his shoulder. “Um....”

  Maksim grabbed Jakob’s arm. “Stop fooling around with younglings.” He slid his brother a queer look that said, ‘Whatever does it for you. Who am I to judge?’ “Come with me. There is not much time. I have a plan that will fix our problems for life.”

  Shaking himself loose, Jakob took in his elder sibling’s edgy, excited posture. “What are you talking about?”

  Smirking nastily, Maksim waggled his eyebrows. “I grabbed us a once-in-a-dynasty opportunity, little brother.”

  “I am not interested–”

  “An assassination attempt on a royal,” Maksim continued quickly. “Not just any royal. The royal.”

  It took a moment, but when he reasoned out what the words alluded to Jakob blanched. “Koen Raad,” he whispered. “You speak of killing the Dragon King.”

  “It is perfect,” Maksim bragged. “The King is mad with grief, and he suspects nothing.” He rubbed his hands together. “So much coin, Jak. I have never seen the like. Sure, it is for the Ja bitch, but I could not turn her down when she slammed four chests of gold on the table, and announced the successful assassin may take what he wished. I decided we have an advantage because of your recent post.”

  Feet fused to the ground, overt horror tore through Jakob as his brother gushed the insidious plan.

  “The contract has been picked up by two others,” explained Maksim, blithe. “Most balked when they learned the target was the King, but we have an in. The Citadel Guard trusts you? You can still get into the upper levels of the fortress as the High Princess’ Second, can you not?”

  A cavernous roar cracked the air in two and shook the cave so hard the rock walls fractured, raining shingle and dust upon them.

  Staggered by what he heard, Viktor’s eyes opened wide at the sound.

  He stuttered, “Uh oh.”

  It descended as a haze of red smoke. Bloody mist. Rage blanketed Marina until she felt the tenuous control she held whilst in dragonskin burst. The chains of reason fell from her as if snapping twine.

  The roar formed at the pit of her soul, oozed into her stomach, rumbled through her body then exploded from her snout with such force pebbles on the ground shook.

  She felt her prey’s fear.

  Smelt his stink pollute the very air she breathed.

  Heard his heart still then surge in a rapid tempo she planned to make his screams match.

  The Dragoness was all emotion, black rage, and white-hot aggression. She wanted to burn something, anything, to the ground. Flesh needed to be shredded from bone by her claws, and oh, she hoped he ran. The chase called to her. A seductive crooning that both teased and soothed.

  As she prowled from the darkness, Maksim tripped backwards, dragging a fast talking Jakob with him.

  Had her Second known of what his brother planned?

  She growled viciously.

  White-faced, Viktor shrank back.

  Backing up steadily, Jakob’s hands raised, palms facing outward. “I did not know. I suspected he was in something deep, but I would have stopped him.” Head lowering in submission, his deep voice quavered. “Please. He is fool, but he is all I have left of my kin.”

  Family ties did not matter to the beast.

  Maksim would burn. Freeze. Be torn into bloody shreds. The Dragoness would accept no less.

  Aware words would be of no use, Viktor courageously rushed forward to tug frantically on Jakob’s arm, urging him out of the way to leave Maksim to his fate.

  “We must get Council Mon Mikhail,” Viktor babbled. “He will listen. I think. He will know how to help. He is strong enough to stop–”

  Rearing back, Marina felt the hot churn broiling her throat, and instinctively snapped her jaws wide to release a torrid blue flame that scorched the earth and rolled towards Maksim.

  Jakob dove right.

  Viktor dropped and rolled.

  A swirl of brilliant light, Maksim shifted, but was clipped by the blast, and sent tumbling off the precipice verge.

  Flat on his belly, Jakob stared in horror. “Marina! No!”

  Skidding to a stop at the edge of the gully, Marina hooked her claws into the ledge. She craned her elongated neck over to peer down into the mist.

  Caught in her peripheral vision, she became vaguely aware of Viktor flying in the direction of the Red Citadel.

  Faster than sight, Maksim soared into the sky, knocking Marina’s shoulder and sending her sprawling.

  He banked hard and sped inland.

  Rolling onto her paws, wings snapping open, Marina crouched then sprung fearlessly into the abyss. Freefalling. The world rotated like a gyroscope, with her as the spin axis. Volcano, jungle, abyss, sky, volcano, jungle, abyss, sky. Cold wind and salty mist enveloped her body. The sheer walls of the valley were solid smudges of maroon, and the abyss rushed up to swallow her whole. Strangely, her wings felt like another pair of arms that had skin stretched between the jointed fingers. She could feel the bones moving in sync, feel the way air tugged and pushed on the membranes.

  The winds caught hold, lifted her up... and tossed her about, shook her roughly then sent her into a spine-twisting whirl that made her dizzy, because, implausibly, flying well took a tremendous amount of dexterity attained through months of training.

  She flexed her wing forelimbs, and pulled out of it. Marina stubbornly fought the air tides to correct her trajectory and fly straight. The fundamentals were innate, and when she angled her wings down, the air rushed over, exerted force, and she lifted.

  After another false start – a heart-stopping vertical drop where she forgot she actually had wings that flapped – she sliced through the air seeking for her quarry.

  Hands bracketing his mouth, Jakob yelled at her to return.

  She barely heard him over the wind, and the beat of her own heart and wings.

  A peppery scent drifted past.

  Instinct took over then she was belly down, soaring towards her prey.

  Breaking in mid-air, Maksim somersaulted and spewed ice in her face.

  Blue splinters coming at her.

  Eyes snapping closed, Marina yelped, and dropped in altitude. Jagged icicles bounced off her hide. Slivers speared the sensitive flesh under her scales. It hurt. Her skin prickled, but she shook of the biting cold that would have disabled a fire breather.

  She plunged after him as he straightened his tail, tucked his wings, and dived.

  Locked on his trail, she mimicked, followed.

  There was no comprehension of where she was. The screams of the people below were lost as she closed the distance.

  Maksim rolled onto his back, ready to spit more ice. He jerked. Two tons of enraged Dragoness was on his ass.

  Eyes wild with the thrill of catching her prey, Marina latched on.

  Claws cut past pearly scale, sank into flesh and hooked in. Teeth bit into the leathery skin of a corded neck, and a bladed-tail looped over another, thicker limb.

  Locked together they spiralled and plummeted.

  The battling Dragons crashed head first into the demolished bazaar, destroying carts, stalls, and scattering the few merchants that dared remain to protect their wares during the pillaging.

  Earth erupted either side of their mass in twin waves of wet soil, and when they stopped, a tapered groove twenty-shaku wide was left in their wake.

  With a masculine snort, Maksim pushed the dazed Dragoness off.

  He gained his paws snarling.

  Rocking onto her belly, Marina lowered her
snout and hissed.

  Maksim snapped his jaws, blowing cold air over her horns until they frosted at the tips.

  Marina shook off the icicles and lunged aiming for this throat. She missed, her fangs grazing his tough hide, but her claws sunk deep and gouged bloody furrows in his side.

  He roared in agony, violently bucking to shake her loose.

  His tail lashed and scraped her side.

  Pain exploded from the cut. Instead of backing off, her beast went mad, digging her claws and fangs deeper, wanting blood, needing to feel this Dragon bleed dry of life.

  Something warm and strong coiled around her sore hind leg, and yanked. She was dragged back, lifted, slammed into the ground, and then rolled over with a rough flick. Cross-eyed, she watched the deadly point of a tail sail towards her eyeball, recognized the inimitable shape of the knifelike spike, and felt an absurd kind of happiness detonate within her breast.

  Another blocked the fatal blow, wrapping around it, wrenching it brutally until she swore she heard something snap.

  Roaring, Dragon King Koen Raad reared back.

  A silver Dragon crashed into Marina. They mashed together and skidded through the mud. Covering her protectively, the silver-scaled Dragon spread his wings and snarled with single-minded ferocity.

  Scared to the point of incoherency, Viktor released Koen Raad’s tail. Jakob had successfully shoved his cousin from harm’s way, and he was moments from being roasted alive by an enraged Phoenix.

  He retreated, edging toward the Dragon Lord protecting the High Princess. He bared his fangs and growled viciously despite his Dragon’s smaller stature.

  A sapphire Dragon landed.

  Heaving flanks brushing, seething, Daniil and Koen advanced on the lesser Dragons. Their energy intensified into roiling black clouds of anger.

  Mikhail descended into the gulf between them. His tail thrashed and cracked like a whip, forcing distance between the ranks. ‘Hold.’ His mental voice boomed throughout their minds. ‘Enough.’

  ‘Move.’ Koen’s snarl was barely intelligible.

  Rather than submit, Mikhail snapped his jaws. His spiked tail gouged a deep furrow in the soil. ‘Back away.’