by Delia Castel
“Why didn’t she try to marry you as well?”
He smiled. “I had already mated with Gilda in secret, and my stepmother’s sorcery couldn’t penetrate our bond.”
Marigold nodded. She really needed to be working out a way to escape, but curiosity burned in her gut. Perhaps her Father’s story would shed more light on her current situation. Squeezing his hand, she urged him to continue.
“I needed to get rid of her, so I contacted the Assassin’s Guild. Hertz brokered the transaction, but the assassins arrived too late. My stepmother murdered all four of my brothers and used their blood for a ritual to open the fairy portal.”
Marigold chewed her lip. “Is that why there’s a magical bubble around Chrysos? Did my mother create it?”
“Yes, with our combined blood. We intended to patch up the portal, but assassins attacked. The spell ended up engulfing the entire island, trapping its inhabitants and all the wedding guests.” His face shuttered. “Hertz wishes to open the island for himself and take control of Chrysos and its wealth.”
Marigold tilted her head to the side. The plan didn’t make any sense. If Hertz wanted all the wealth…. “Why hasn’t he tried?”
“When he found me washed up in Pleco—it’s the island adjacent to Chrysos—he apologized for the incompetence of the assassins and told me he would find Gilda. He gave me a home in his mansion at first. I expected he wanted a reward when Gilda opened up the island. But months later he claimed that his searches were fruitless, and he drugged me then had me bound to this form, so I could not be identified.”
Marigold bowed her head. “He said he wanted to become my mate.”
“He wants to rule Chrysos at your side.” Prince Aurelius brushed his thumb over her fingers. His skin was almost as pale as the poisoned ring Nanny had given her on the evening of the ball.
“But that would mean—”
“That dragon has been waiting for the right moment to kill me. I expect he will try to bargain with you to become your mate in exchange for my life and abdication.”
Marigold clenched her teeth. There had to be a way for her to save her father and have Hertz executed. She stared down at her boots. Hertz had been decent enough not to take off her clothes before placing her in the dragon pit. Perhaps he thought that this small kindness would sway her heart.
Aurelius placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re thinking of going along with his plan and double-crossing him at a later point, you will fail. Hertz has likely thought of this. There’s no guarantee he will keep you alive once he becomes your mate. The only way you can thwart him is by refusing his demands.”
“But he’ll kill you.”
“My life is of no importance. I want you to survive, and the best chance of doing so is by keeping yourself out of his clutches.” He knelt at her feet, staring into her eyes. “Let me teach you what I know about the powers of a spirit dragon.”
Chapter 17
With a moan that failed to convey the full extent of his agony, Polaris twitched a finger and grimaced. It felt like every bone in his body had been pulverized under the tower. That couldn’t be true. If he had broken his spine, he wouldn’t be in that much pain. He wouldn’t feel the crushing weight of the rubble on his back, and he wouldn’t have been able to move that finger.
Aftershocks from heavy stones raining down on him rang in his ears, so he couldn’t use his enhanced hearing to check on his brothers’ heartbeats.
“Matheson, Berrin?” he croaked.
Two weak groans were his answer. He exhaled a breath of relief and flinched at the sharp pain of a broken rib.
It had been a miracle that they had survived Uncle Hertz’ attack. At the last minute, he had transformed, taking the brunt of the falling building, and pushing his brothers underneath his body. When his dragon form had sustained near fatal damage, he released it, lessening the impact of the debris. It was probably a mangled, unfixable mess, and he would be surprised if he would be able to perform his duties as a General of the King’s Regiment.
He shook away the maudlin thoughts. He and his brothers were alive, and help would come. The collapse of a thousand-year-old building would attract enough attention. However, he was sure that Uncle Hertz had fixed things so that they received the blame for its destruction. His heart lurched at the thought of Marigold in his clutches. She was definitely alive, and they had to find her before Uncle Hertz used her for something nefarious.
“The two of you,” he muttered. “When the rubble clears, transform and fly to safety.”
“No,” rasped Berrin.
“Marigold needs you.” A weak but excruciating cough wracked Polaris’ body.
“She needs us all,” said Matheson. “If you’re too injured to transform, ride on one of our backs.”
Polaris closed his eyes, succumbing to the overwhelming pain. He didn’t know how long he lay within the rubble. It could have been hours, even days, but some time later, a warm breeze caressed his skin, and he opened his eyes to find the High Sheriff standing above him. Moonlight shone on his ash-gray hair, making it appear white.
In the distance behind the Sheriff stood the other three towers of the building, still intact. Polaris would have exhaled a sigh of relief had it not been for his broken ribs and the manic grin of the dragon looming over his prone body.
A flash of intuition formed in his mind. The High Sheriff’s pale hair might be a result of papaver and not the color of ashes covering a smoldering fire, as the dragon had always boasted. It would certainly explain the official’s enthusiasm for castrating poor Berrin.
The High Sheriff swept his gray cloak over his shoulders and crouched. His eyes danced with fervour. “General Auburn, you and your reprobate brothers are under arrest for the crimes of criminal damage and on suspicion of cuckoldry.”
He didn’t have the energy to sneer at the officious dragon. Instead, he turned his head to check on the progress of his brothers. A forensic wizard raised a beam from Matheson’s back, and another lifted him from where he lay. Matheson shook tiny bits of debris from his hair, sneezed, and then transformed into a green dragon an exact replica of Father’s form. The wizards on his side of the rubble backed away, pointing their staffs.
“At the first hint of dragon fire, Lord Auburn, we will strike!” yelled the High Sheriff. “You’ve repaired your wounds, now shift back.”
Polaris turned to check on his other brother. Berrin lay immobile on his other side. Even in the partial light of the wizards’ staff, the blood staining his blond hair stood out. Panic clutched at Polaris’ heart like an iron fist. “Berrin?”
His younger brother didn’t move, and Polaris turned to the High Sheriff, whose gleeful expression morphed into concern. The older dragon craned his neck. “What is wrong with him?”
A young forensic wizard pointed his staff at Berrin, bathing him in white magic. “Too many broken bones, sir.”
“Fix him!” spat the High Sheriff. “The time of his punishment is nigh.”
Polaris groaned. He and his brothers were outmatched, and right now, there wasn’t a thing they could to to help themselves. Even if the wizards mended their broken bones, they wouldn’t be able to fight their way out in such weakened states.
“I’m not versed in healing techniques for the living, High Sheriff,” muttered a young wizard.
“It matters not!” The sheriff waved his index finger at Berrin. “We just need him alive enough for the wing clipping.”
“High Sheriff,” said a voice from beyond the rubble. “What kind of negligence is this? My patient was under your care! You not only allow a building to fall upon Berrin, but you refuse him and his injured brothers adequate medical treatment.”
Polaris breathed a sigh of relief.
“Dr. Squamatus,” sneered the Sheriff. “How convenient it is that you are here to assist.”
“I was on my way to visit my young patient and was surprised to discover he was no longer in the Sheriff Court. When I heard the collapse
of the Tower of Torment, I hastened to the scene of the disaster to offer my services.”
“Thank Vulcan for dedicated physicians,” spat the sheriff. “Well, then, fix Berrin so I can mete out his sentence.”
The doctor encased Berrin in white light and hummed. “There are extensive internal injuries that will require delicate enchantments.”
“He just needs to be conscious.”
“I’m afraid not, High Sheriff. At this level of injury, a punishment as mild as a light whipping would stop his heart.”
The older dragon opened his mouth. Polaris assumed it was to tell the doctor that he had no plans to leave Berrin alive. He snapped his mouth shut, as though thinking better of revealing his schemes.
The High Sheriff turned to Matheson, who was still in his dragon form. “Shift back.”
“Give him time,” replied the doctor. “This is likely his first transformation.”
“Can you verify that?”
“When I have finished healing all three brothers of their injuries, I will.” Dr. Squamatus turned his magic to Polaris.
White, healing light encased his body, permeating his bones to the marrow and dissolving his pain. Polaris moaned with relief. The magic felt like thousands of tiny ants crawling through his insides, clicking together shattered bones, patching torn muscles, and soothing frayed nerves. It took several minutes for the sensations to fade, and when the doctor finished, he felt whole but somewhat weak.
Dr. Squamatus knelt by Polaris’ side, his thick, grey brows furrowed. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and the old wizard had tucked his braided mustache over his shoulder. “General Auburn, I detect extensive damage to your dragon form. Would it be possible for you to shift, so I can assess it?”
“No!” snapped the High Sheriff. “You’ve done enough.”
“The law states that prisoners with dual forms requiring medical treatment receive it for both bodies.” He turned to the forensic wizards. “Is that not true?”
They all nodded and lowered their staffs.
Polaris shifted, and excruciating pains shot through his bones, making him slump down on top of the rubble. He lost consciousness before the white light could engulf him.
When he awoke, it was to find a crowd of red-uniformed dragons surrounding them, including Captain Flicker of the King’s Regiment. Polaris still felt groggy and his limbs were weighted with fatigue. Even the tip of his tail was too much of an effort to move. The shouts of people around him rang in his ears.
Berrin stood by his side in his human form. “Captain Flicker says that you can’t be taken in for criminal damage because you’re the responsibility of the King’s Regiment. He has sent a swift to inform his superiors of what is happening.”
A groan rumbled in his throat, and his gaze slid to Matheson, who was now in his human form and clad in one of the doctor’s robes. He stood by the doctor’s side, waving his arms at a disgruntled-looking High Sheriff.
Berrin must have followed where he was looking, because he whispered, “Matheson and Dr. Squamatus are arguing that we mated with Marigold before he did, which makes us a valid haremage.”
His limbs slumped. While that confession helped Berrin, it exposed his own violation of the one-sided betrothal to Princess Snowdrop. He shook his head. It no longer mattered as the she-dragon was already mated to the ice dragons in the north. But whatever happened, he would not reveal her location until the elders had burned the corruption from the palace.
“I don’t care!” The High Sheriff balled his fists. His grey cloak lay on the ground behind him, making Polaris wonder if there had been a scuffle. “Regardless of your legal trickery, Berrin Auburn is guilty of cuckolding and is sentenced to wing clipping.”
“If you’re so obsessed with cuckolding, then look to your benefactor, Governor Hertz,” said Matheson. “He has stolen our mate, presumably to carry out the same crime, and he is the one responsible for collapsing the building on us.”
“That makes more sense than the brothers collapsing the building on themselves.” Captain Flicker ran his fingers through his coal-black hair. The dragon’s face slackened, as though he was exhausted and overwhelmed with the entire business. Polaris couldn’t blame him.
Dr. Squamatus approached him with a vial of elixir, which glistened in the moonlight like liquid silver. “This will replenish lost energies from the healing process.”
Polaris opened his jaws and the doctor poured several doses of the elixir on his tongue. As a dragon, his sense of smell was stronger than his sense of taste, but from its dry, pungent herbal aroma, he guessed that it would be bitter. The liquid sank into his tongue, and magic shot through his veins. He closed his eyes, breathing hard at the new surge of energy. It wasn’t enough for him to win a battle, but he might be able to fly a few leagues before passing out.
He transformed and stood on shaky legs. It was a struggle to stay upright, and he clung to Berrin for support. “High Sheriff,” he said, breaking through the arguments. “Governor Hertz is under investigation for treason against the Royal House of Vulcan. If you continue to impede our efforts to apprehend him, I will have Captain Flicker arrest you and anyone else who follows your directives.”
The forensic wizards lowered their staffs and stepped back from their superior officer.
Polaris gave the wizards a nod of approval. “If you are so determined to clip a dragon’s wings, you may start with my uncle’s. He has abducted our mate with the intention to claim her for himself. Then, move onto your own wings, for aiding and abetting his actions.”
“How dare you!” The High Sheriff trembled, his face darkening. “I have headed the Sheriff Court since before you were born, and no-one has accused me of such corruption.”
“Then I suggest you submit yourself for testing, in case my uncle has drugged or had you magically beguiled. I intend to find Lady Auburn, who is in need of rescue, and bring my uncle to justice. Are any of you gentlemen going to stop me?”
Captain Flicker and his dragons shook their heads, and the forensic wizards glanced away. The other guards of the Sheriff Court shuffled their feet, pretending to be interested in the rubble.
The High Sheriff balled his fists. “You cannot talk your way out of this, General. Your youngest brother—”
“Mated with her first and did not cuckold anyone.”
“Where is your proof?” he screeched.
Dr. Squamatus stepped forward rubbing his temples. “We have already discussed this. Matheson’s fledgling transformation is proof that the union was consummated not more than a day ago.”
Polaris clenched his teeth, glaring at the High Sheriff. He still couldn’t fathom why the dragon was so determined to punish Berrin, even when Uncle Hertz had been discredited and proven to be on the verge of perpetrating the same crime. He’d heard of curses that contorted a dragon’s desires, but this one wasn’t even subtle. Perhaps the sheriff had been like this all along, and papaver had melted his austere exterior.
“When I return, I will have you investigated for dishonorable conduct. A dragon in your position obsessed with the mating habits of others and who keeps indecent literature is unfit for such high office.”
The High Sheriff’s eyes bulged. “Both Auburn Governors have had no complaints about the integrity of my work!”
“Thanks to the crimes of my uncle, neither are present to approve of your actions.”
“Governor Hertz is innocent until proven guilty,” snapped the Sheriff.
Berrin raised his chin. “By the time we’ve finished with our uncle, he won’t be fit to govern anything.”
Polaris nodded and turned to Dr. Squamatus. “Are we fit to depart?”
“Yes, General, although I would ask you to refrain from transformations for the next twelve hours. Your injuries were rather extensive.” He mopped his brow with and oversized handkerchief, reached into the pocket of his robe, and handed Polaris a card. “If you have any medical emergencies, call on my colleague, Dr. Barbary. I’m
afraid my magic reserves are dangerously depleted.”
“Thank you for your assistance.” Polaris suppressed his rising panic. In any time, his superiors could descend on him, having heard about his involvement in the destruction of the Tower, and his mating with Marigold instead of Princess Snowdrop. If an elder came to apprehend him, he would not be able to leave for this rescue mission. He turned to Berrin. “I will ride on your back.”
Berrin transformed, and Polaris climbed up the ridges of his spine. The last time he had done this, it was to guide a frightened Marigold to finding her body. Heart twisting, he settled himself on Berrin’s back and glared down at the High Sheriff. He hoped Uncle Hertz had been serious about mating with Marigold. As the older dragon had no leverage against her, he would require a lengthy courtship to coax her into consenting. The other option—installing her in a brothel and hiring her out to dragons who needed to transform early was too horrific to bear.
Berrin soared over the capital, and Matheson flew beside them in his green dragon form. “We need to track them both,” he shouted over the wind. “Does anyone have a sample of Marigold’s blood?”
Matheson screeched and turned towards Florus. By now, a cloud had moved over the moon, creating an ominous shade over the elegant, limestone buildings of Sigma Central. Berrin turned to follow their brother, rumbling low in his throat.
Polaris furrowed his brow. Why in the name of Vulcan would Matheson have kept her blood? Had it been on the dress she had worn the day she stumbled across Mother and Father’s slain bodies?
He shook his head and rested his torso on Berrin’s neck. The truth would emerge soon enough.
Chapter 18
Marigold sat on the rock with Prince Aurelius, practicing exercises he had carried out with her mother, Princess Gilda. Sounds from above echoed in their underground cavern. Bear shifters ushered women to and from the bathroom, so they kept their voices low to avoid being overheard. Heart swelling with joy, Marigold marveled at how the light coming from the overhead grate made his hair shimmer like gold. She finally knew her identity.