by Meagan Hurst
“It is,” Crilyne agreed. “So, which name will you go with?”
“Zimliya,” she replied evenly. “The other name is just something I wanted to know. Closure or something.” She opened her eyes slowly. “Thank you, Crilyne,” she added. “Did he ask you why you wanted to know?”
“No, though I am fairly certain he was confused by my interest. I simply told him I was tying up a few things regarding the demise of Tenia for a book I was writing on its history.”
As this was an entirely believable answer since the Shades were all addicted to the history of the world, she let out a breath of relief. Nodding as she closed her eyes again, she heard the door close behind the Shade as she returned to hitting her head against the wall. The Shade had answered a question that had been haunting her for years, but the answer did not give her the level of comfort she had expected it would. Anger returned and choked her, but she did not make the attempt to fight it and, in the end, it faded on its own.
“Z?” she heard the Dragon call out softly as she heard the door shut—he clearly had opened it in silence—and felt his approach.
“I’m alright,” she told him from the floor.
“The vase offended you?” Nivaradros asked in a tone of voice that spoke volumes about his approval of the death of the piece.
“I needed something to throw,” she whispered.
“Ah, well you certainly succeeded in throwing it,” Nivaradros told her as he settled onto the floor beside her. “I spoke with the Shade,” he added. “Apparently he thinks I would be more beneficial to you now than he was. I doubt it, but I am willing to try.” She felt as if they were playing hot potato with her.
“He explained what you told him,” the Dragon continued. “So you don’t have to repeat yourself, but you do realize you are a power no matter where you go, right? At some point in time they would have found out—your new world’s races—and you would have been put in some sort of position based on your power.”
“I left before they could place me in a position of power,” Z admitted with a bitter laugh. “The battle that almost killed me revealed much.”
“You are very good at shying away from positions of power,” Nivaradros agreed. His hand covered the hand she had placed on the floor between them; she didn’t even flinch. “What did you want me here for?”
“I was planning on going to bed.”
“Oh?”
“Crilyne seems to think I need a watcher, and I’d rather not start an argument with anyone else tonight.”
Nivaradros began to laugh and she opened her eyes in time to see the delight sweep away the confusion on his features. “I see,” he chuckled when he met her gaze. “That is something to strive for,” he added before gently picking her up. She wanted to protest, but, as was so often the case now, she did not, and he carried her easily back to the bed.
“I will keep watch,” he assured her. “And Crilyne keeps watch outside the wing. If anyone is foolish enough to attempt to get past him, I am almost certain they will be a small smoldering pile of ash before they can attempt to flee. Your Shade is worried about you. He told me this wasn’t—entirely—my fault.”
“That is unusual for him,” Z murmured as she closed her eyes and turned away from the Dragon and the side of the bed that would lead to the floor if she forgot about it since Nivaradros had placed one side of the bed against the wall.
“I was impressed,” the Dragon agreed. “Tenia was not your fault,” he added softly.
“I know.”
“And yet you hold it against yourself, or us possibly.”
“Who else should I hold accountable?”
“You mean other than the people who caused it to come about?” Nivaradros demanded irritably. She heard him exhale before he grew too furious. “Sleep, Z,” he said tightly. “If I continue this conversation you will not be sleeping.” She laughed but followed his advice and let the exhaustion she had been fighting take over.
It was a very short sleep. Waking up by sitting up and throwing magic without form, thought, or intent, Z heard Nivaradros’s curse before her eyes snapped open and she took in the sight of the very apparent new door in the room. Well, hole in the wall. Exhaling shakily, Z turned her attention to the Dragon who was staring at the hole as though he expected it to expand.
Since that was clearly what he was thinking, she turned back to the hole and watched it. The gravity of what she had thrown hit her as she stared at the edges of the stone that was now visible. Shadow, she had thrown shadow. She’d thrown magic without any idea as to why.
“Nivaradros?” she whispered.
“I am going to hope your concern is an indication this is a new development for you,” the Dragon replied tensely. “Because if it is not, I am not amused. You should have warned me.”
“It’s new,” she assured him as she got up. Clothing was not a concern as she headed over to the new way to move between the rooms in the wing. Touching the shadow that clung to the stone it hadn’t blasted through, Z called it back from the wall and sent it away. “It is slightly concerning,” she added.
“Not any more concerning than some of your other reactions when awoken,” Nivaradros begged to differ. “But I would advise we use a more unconventional way to get you to sleep for now.”
“Meaning?”
“Magic,” the Dragon replied grimly. “And I am keeping contact with you the whole time so you cannot sit up and blast a hole through the floor above you.”
“Sounds good to me,” Z agreed nervously as she returned to bed for the—actually, she wasn’t sure what number they were on—and slipped underneath the covers. “I’ll try to keep from reacting to your magic.”
“Please do,” Nivaradros murmured. “I am not sure I could survive a blast like that, and I would rather not have to check the quality of my shields today.” She felt his hand on her forehead. “Let’s try this again,” he breathed. “Sleep, Z, sleep well,” he added as she felt the smallest amount of magic follow his words. “Preferably deeply and without dreams, but if I give you too many orders you get touchy so I won’t demand it.”
She chuckled at his words, and fought her defenses as they attempted to interfere with his magic. “Nivaradros?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“That is a loaded sounding response. What did I do this time?”
“You haven’t attempted to eat me yet,” Z murmured as sleep—true sleep—finally appeared to be coming within reach.
“That would make things rather difficult,” Nivaradros remarked in a suspicious tone. He chuckled a moment later and she felt his hand move from her forehead to her cheek. “You are still fighting me,” he chided softly. “Relax, I am not going to harm you, and you really do need the rest. When you start attacking the walls, I think it’s a sign.”
“Agreed,” she yawned as she struggled to hold her defenses down long enough for the Dragon to work. Pleased that her trust in him had reached this level. “How long are you going to keep me asleep?”
“Not more than five hours,” Nivaradros assured her. “I have a feeling you would start fighting me if I attempted to make you go longer regardless. I need to speak with you when you wake though. There are some events I think you need warning of before they get thrown your way. Before you worry, none of them threaten the safety of your allies.”
“Then why are you concerned?” she wanted to know, but if the Dragon replied she didn’t hear it. Sleep finally claimed her completely.
Chapter 3
For once the Dragon didn’t wake her up by shaking her. Z’s eyes opened to find Nivaradros was watching her from a safe distance, and a smile touched the Dragon’s features when their gazes locked.
“I figured there was a small chance you would wake up with violence,” he explained as he bent down, grabbed the clothing she had meant to put on before the Dragon had spelled her into sleep, and tossed it at her. “I managed to convince the Mithane to give us a couple of hours before su
mmoning you to the meeting.”
She nodded absently, slipped out of the covers, and pulled her clothing on with care. It felt nice to be back in Ranger’s clothing. If she had missed anything of the insignificant and non-living variety, it had been the Ranger’s clothing. Stronger than any of the immortally created armor of equal weight, it was almost like wearing nothing. Plus, it was skin tight, but so flexible it never restricted a movement. Pulling the shirt on with pleasure, Z turned to face the Dragon who hadn’t so much as batted an eye.
“Better?” he wanted to know.
“Yes,” she told him with a smile.
Nivaradros shook his head in confusion. “I will never understand how humans can be impressed by such small things, but if it makes you happy I suppose I will accept it.” He offered her a hand after a small pause. “Come, there is food in the main room,” he explained when she raised a brow. “I thought you needed something to eat since we spent most of yesterday and today attempting to get you to sleep.”
Grimacing at the reminder, her gaze moved to the hole she had made in the wall several hours before—or to what had been a hole in the wall. Now all she saw was the room as it had been before, and the elegant designs on the smooth and flawless surface were the same ones she remembered from before. Turning to the Dragon she stared at him in a questioning silence.
“The castle didn’t appear to take offense,” the Dragon drawled, “but it did repair the damage done. I do think your destruction of the vase was something that was determined to be offensive, but if so, nothing was said to me. The shards merely vanished into the floor, but the plant is in a new vase on the table again,” Nivaradros added with a nod at the table he spoke of.
Her eyes went there at his nod and she grimaced again. “That is not an improvement,” she muttered as she took in the golden outlined silver vase. The glass one at least had implied there was not any precious metal in it.
“I would advise, then, not breaking anything else,” the Dragon remarked offhandedly before his lips turned upwards slightly in a smile. “The Mithane has summoned us early,” he added suddenly as his eyes brightened with anger, but he didn’t offer her his hand when she moved to his side. “Food—regrettably for you—will have to wait.”
Nodding absently, briefly wondering when the Mithane and Nivaradros had gotten comfortable enough with each other to use magical communication, Z moved to follow the Dragon out into the main room. She noticed the food, as it could have fed a small army for several days. She passed it with relief, as she was not hungry. It was the typical Alantaion meal, and Z often wondered why the immortal race spent so much time making their food an art statement given it was going to lose that statement soon after it had been made. There were, however, a lot of things she would never understand about Alantaions; she had given up making the list when she had turned thirteen.
As if he had known where her thoughts were, the Dragon snorted loudly as he looked over at the food. “I do not understand the Alantaion fascination with making food look like anything but what it is, and flowery enough that it could be hung on the wall in any room and fit right in. It is a waste of time, and while many things are, I can think of a thousand that are less obvious about being wastes of time.”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed. Nivaradros stared at her in astonishment as though her laughter was horribly misplaced, but her laughter was impossible to stop. She was so off balance here.
“Sorry,” she wheezed apologetically. “But I had been thinking the same thing,” she added breathlessly between laughs. The Dragon’s brow rose sharply, and her laughter doubled in strength.
“So glad to be amusing,” the Dragon grumbled as he led the way to the main door.
His eyes were slightly bright, and they snapped coldly from side to side as he examined parts of the room that called his attention to them, as though he expected danger to be lurking in the room. Recalling the attack from the previous night, Z wondered what Nivaradros wasn’t telling her. She questioned the stability of Arriandie’s politics, and several reasons for Dragon’s paranoia began to emerge in her mind.
As the doors to the wing swung closed behind them, Z turned and placed her palms carefully on the door and closed her eyes. Arriandin, protect these halls and rooms from outside intrusion. Do not let even the servants pass. There is danger afoot. Stepping back, she moved to Nivaradros’s side again.
“What was that about?” the Dragon wanted to know. “I know you didn’t use your magic, but something magical happened in response.”
“I asked Arriandin to keep everyone from entering,” she explained offhandedly as they began to walk the hall. “I don’t want any more attacks in the rooms.”
“Sounds fair enough to me,” Nivaradros agreed. His eyes went to the displays the walls began to happily divulge. A battle Z remembered well caught the Dragon’s eyes, and he paused to watch it unfold. “You surrendered,” he said in open surprise.
Z let her gaze follow his to the battle and nodded slowly. “Shevieck was on the field,” she murmured. There was a wall of Alantaions behind her from this view point so she knew the clarification was needed; Shevieck would be impossible to find unless one knew to look for him. He had been well armored—all of the Alantaions had been—and because of that his features were not readily displayed.
“Ah, you surrendered to Midestol to keep the heir safe. How noble of you,” the Dragon said cuttingly.
“Precisely,” she replied in a tone that slapped. She watched her surrender without emotion. She remembered the six months she had spent in Midestol’s forces’ hold, but it had been worth every drop of blood of hers they had spilled. She had also managed to get their other captives out when she had left. All three thousand of them.
Nivaradros watched the event until the wall slowly pulled it inward and released another. This one he knew well—he had been there with her—so he turned away. “I would appreciate it if you did not so openly surrender to pain and torture, even though you do not feel it,” he mentioned in an almost passing tone as they began to walk again. “If there is truly no other way, I will accept it, but try to find some other bargaining chip that is not you.”
“I will try,” she agreed truthfully. She didn’t add she always did attempt to find another way around her surrender because she knew it would only frustrate the Dragon more.
They made it to the staircase that would lead them up to the third floor—the main floor—and Z paused on the first step. Nivaradros was so attuned to the slightest of her movements right now that he likewise stopped.
“Z?” he called softly.
A few things happened almost simultaneously. She stepped back and summoned a shield without thought, but she felt it shatter before it formed. She fell straight into a magical stance and began to reach through the levels and elements that limited most to form something that would stand against what was coming. She also blindly tried to dismantle the spells surrounding them. She was out of practice with magic—something she would have once considered a positive thing—and as a result deciding on what she needed took too long. Yet before she could accomplish anything, the Dragon intervened.
Grabbing her, pulling her close, Nivaradros held her tightly against him as his scales emerged. His back was to the stairs and the threat, and his head—with his several inches on her—tucked itself over hers to offer as much protection as he could.
There wasn’t time for either of them to do more; the staircase exploded at their back. She felt Nivaradros take hits from the debris, and she felt pieces of stone strike the few parts of her not protected by Nivaradros. Held tightly against the Dragon, she could feel one of his hearts falter from a direct strike. The Dragon neither grunted in pain nor flinched, and he continued to shield her when all was silent. Only when silence had been there for five minutes—minus the ringing in her ears—did he lessen his hold on her slightly. She pulled back to pull away, and the Dragon’s arms tightened again at once.
“Not. Yet.” His tone was
furious, she could see his blood pooling on the floor, but Nivaradros did not take his natural form—she knew why—and he refused to move away from the point of disaster.
The shield she had been considering now became needed. Pulling up a smaller variant—much smaller—of the one she had created, with everyone’s help, to keep the magic contained in Tenia, she surrounded them both with it and felt Nivaradros release her completely when it was formed. She glanced at the staircase and winced. A crater was all that was remaining, and the ceiling, floor, and surrounding walls had taken significant damage. A chandelier, once elegant, was now charred, twisted, and broken on the floor. The repairs were going to be extensive.
“Oh, they are not going to be happy with that,” she informed the Dragon dryly. “We may decide it would have been wiser to be on the staircase than to have survived and get the double sided pleasure of telling the Alantaions about the attack.”
The Dragon glanced over his shoulder and nodded slowly. “Perhaps, but let’s not consider that option just yet,” he advised calmly.
As if he were not gravely wounded and half the hall weren’t damaged from the force of a spell that probably should have killed them both.
“Your shield is remarkable,” Nivaradros added as he looked it over. Since it was invisible, his inspection was entirely magical on its own, but she could feel it, and a small smile touched her face at his approval. “I would advise summoning this shield first next time.”
She chuckled at his critique to hide her embarrassment. “I’m a little rusty using magic. And when I did use it, it wasn’t for anything like this,” she told him as she tried to move around him to see the damage he had taken.
He blocked her with ease. She knew it was bad, but she couldn’t see where he was wounded and what sort of aid he required. Not unless he allowed it.
“You blew a hole in the wall earlier,” the Dragon pointed out before catching her arms below the elbows and holding her still. “I will survive,” he assured her softly.