To Light the Dragon's Fire

by Margaret Taylor

  She scooped a book off the pile and curled into his favored reading chair in the corner, snorting. “Ha! Someone wouldn’t have to be bossy, if someone else was realistic.” She flipped through the first pages of the one she’d chosen. “Someone is pale, weak and running a fever. Infection is still a possibility and I won’t see my stitch work ruined because someone is too stubborn to listen to good advice and stay in bed when someone should!”

  He maneuvered his tome to the index in the back, scanning the contents as he replied. “Infection would not be a concern if someone else would just call for a healer.”

  She closed hers and gently placed it on the table beside the chair. Leaning toward the bed, she scooped another off the pile. “Someone would be happy to call a healer, as you say, if someone else would just remember that the someone trying to be nice is not from someone else’s world and tell someone how to call for a healer!”

  He lifted a finger to rebut the statement until he realized she was right. He hadn’t taught her how a communication stone worked, yet. “There are stones in the drawer of that table. Grab a red one and press the fourth circle. It will connect to the healer’s quarters on the 22nd floor of the building.”

  ***

  When Healer Rascu left, he felt marginally better and was even more impressed with the woman sitting across the room. Not only had she saved his life, but Lanni’s stitches probably wouldn’t even leave a scar. Not that he cared about such things, his body was already a mish-mash patchwork of battle wounds, but Rascu had been impressed and chattered almost non-stop through the examination.

  “Thank you,” he said softly as the door shut on the departing Harpy.

  She replied without looking up from the book. “You’re welcome.”

  In fact, she’d only looked up once during Rascu’s visit. And that had only been long enough to acknowledge him before her gaze dropped back to the pages. She didn’t seem at all scared or disturbed by the winged creature who’d tended to him.

  Which surprised him to say the least. She’d taken everything that had happened thus far with a seemingly unbreakable stride. And it was something he definitely wasn’t used to. Most women he knew wanted nothing to do with his life, beyond what they got from him between the furs.

  They came, they went. In reality, he knew most were hoping to get close to Draven, not him and when they couldn’t, it was right out the door. None had stayed beyond a darkfall or two, especially once he told them that meeting the King was simply not going to happen.

  But here she was, sitting in his favorite chair, flipping through one of his most prized possessions with the same amount of care he gave, and she’d yet to even try to kiss him!

  “Did you find anything?” he asked, mostly to break the silence.

  She laid the book on the stand, carefully balancing it atop the others she’d already been through. “Not yet. You?”

  He set his on the covers. “No. Maybe we are going about this wrong. What happened to you, after you left the Capitol…”

  Her eyes came up and she paused, her hand hovering over the next tome in the pile. It dropped back and so did she, curling her legs under her on the cushion. “It, it’s hard to explain. I was in the cell, cursing at your King and then I was talking to this rat looking thing. He made a door appear and I opened it. That’s really all I remember until I woke up in a hut. There was this thing there, I’m not really sure what you’d call it…”

  “Describe it,” he interjected when she stopped to take a breath.

  “It was sort of a man on top and a goat or something on the bottom,” she replied in a small voice.

  “A Satyr.”

  She nodded and drew one leg up, wrapping both arms around it. “Oh. Well, he told me to run, so I did. When I couldn’t go any further, I hid in the tree, which is where you found me.”

  “Did it chase you?”

  She shook her head, the long braid of hair swishing against her back. “No. Not that I could tell.”

  He pushed himself up against the pillows, shifting to find a comfortable spot.

  True concern pulsed through the silver of her eyes and she sat forward a bit. “Are you alright? Do you need more pillows? Water? Something to eat? I’m not much of a cook, but I’m sure I could find something and make an edible meal out of it.”

  He waved her off, unused to someone dotting on him. “I am fine. Let us return to the matter at hand. Why do you think they let you go?”

  She relaxed again, propping her chin on a raised knee. “Not a clue. This is your world, not mine.”

  That much was true. This was his world and he should be able to put the puzzle together and figure out what was going on. Unicorns were involved and that was never a good thing. Her description of the Satyr confirmed it though, because everyone knew the beasties only worked for the evil bastards.

  He was missing something, some vital piece and until he had it, there wasn’t a whole lot more he could do. Their search for a time manipulation spell had come up short, but maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe it was something else.

  He racked his brain, trying to remember that story he’d heard as a kittling, the one about the man who lost his memories, but nothing came. Finally, he nodded toward the drawer in the table. “Can you hand me one of the blue stones?”

  She twisted on the chair, pulling it open. “You have several. Does it matter which one?”

  “No.” That was more curt than he meant it and he smiled to gentle the crispness. “Any of them will do.”

  She chose one, rose and sat next to him on the covers. “What do I do?”

  He made a grab for it, but she shifted it away. He harrumphed. “Press the first circle then the fourth and then the fifth, in that order.”

  She glared at the command in his tone but did what he said. “You really should learn to say please now and again.”

  The stone parted down the center and thick blue smoke coiled into the air, forming into a solid looking surface.

  It flashed several times then Mito’s twin heads appeared. Both smiled and the one on the left spoke. “Arin! Long time no stone.”

  He returned the greeting. “And you, Mito. Is Naco on the butte?”

  The right head answered. “He was. Let me check.” It ducked out of the frame but returned within a breath. “Yes, he is still here. Why would you need the Teller?”

  “I am hoping he remembers something,” he said. “And old spin I heard when I was a kittling.”

  The left head’s eyebrow quirked into the air. “Oh? And which spin would that be?”

  Arin smiled in return. “The one about the Cyclops who lost his memory.”

  Both head’s nodded and the left leaned out of the frame a bit, presumably to respond to something someone said. He could see the edge of it still and it nodded then reappeared. “Naco said he is currently busy but would stone you back tomorrow. Will that do?”

  It wouldn’t, but would have too. One didn’t rush a Teller. “Fine. Thank you, Mito.”

  “As always, Arin.” The twin heads started to move away but the right poked itself back into the frame. “By the by, Mother really would appreciate a stone now and then…”

  Before he could reply, his interfering brother disconnected the communication from his side and the smoke fizzled back into the one on his side. It closed up and fell dark.

  Lanni’s eyes lit with a mischievous gleam. “Mother? Can I assume that Mito is your brother?”

  He picked up another book, mainly so he didn’t have to look at her as he responded, careful to keep his tone as neutral as he could. “Of a sort.”

  She rose and put the stone back in the drawer. She sat and propped both elbows on her knees, pinning him with a look he could feel. “Do tell…”

  He closed the book with a snap, more roughly than he intended and glared. “Only if you explain your comment from earlier.”

  The gleam in her eyes dimmed. “Which one?”

  “About you being nothing…”


  ***

  Terra rolled onto her side. A wave of pain pulsed across her mid-section. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood and stifle a groan. Panting, she elbowed the pile of bones under her when something poked into her back.

  They’d left her for dead, probably already thought she was. And she’d be just as happy to prove the bastards wrong! She needed to get out first. She needed to find Draven, figure out what that bastard Golix had done and set it right.

  By the Gods though, she hurt. And she was so very tired.

  She should rest, regain her strength. That was it. She just needed to rest, just a little while longer and then she’d get out of this mess, find Draven and fix it.

  No! Get up! Right now! Move!

  Cracking an eye, she searched for the source of the voice, but only bleached skulls stared back at her. Their dark, empty sockets beckoned, crying out for her to give in to the pain.

  “No! I’m stronger,” she panted. “Than that! I won’t, die, here!”

  Rolling onto her stomach, she clutched the oozing wound in her gut with one hand and pushed herself up onto her knees with the other.

  “Stronger,” she bit out. “Than a, fucking, Unicorn!”

  She wiped the sweat from her eyes and gave this latest prison a slow sweep. She was in a pit, again, but it wasn’t nearly as deep as the other. The floor was covered with too many bodies to count. Some were long dead, their bones bleached white by time. Others were somewhat fresh and a whiff of decaying flesh reached her nostrils.

  She bent and heaved what little there was in her stomach, not pleased that the vomit was mostly blood.

  Leaning back, she swiped a hand across her mouth and staggered to her feet. Stumbling across the piles, she spied what might equate to a backpack and headed for it instead of the sloped end of the pit. Maybe it held a weapon, or some sort of medical supplies. She’d be equally happy with water too.

  Opening the top, she sighed in relief as she spied the long curved blade of an ornately jeweled dagger. She set it aside and gave the rest of the contents a cursory exploration. Clothes, Draven’s clothes she noted, two weird looking boxes and an odd sort of canteen were the only other things in it.

  For later, she decided. Slinging the strap over a shoulder, she grabbed the dagger and began the long, arduous trek up the side of the pit…

  Chapter Twelve

  Draven knuckled the grit from his eyes, tired beyond belief. Sleep was being a cruel mistress this darkfall. She simply would not claim him. His brain nagged, begging him to take notice of something but the thought was elusive, dancing just out of his reach each and every time he tried to pin it down!

  Throwing back the thick fur, he rose and paced his quarters.

  To the left he went, but nothing burst from the darkness of his mind.

  To the right he went, but the shadows twisted around in his head, cloaking his own memories.

  Something wasn’t as it should be, he knew it, felt it all the way to the end of his long tail. He just didn’t know what.

  Something was missing from this place, something that should be here, right now, with him!

  A flash of red caught the corner of his eye and he whipped around.

  But the room was empty.

  It flashed again, just at the edge of his vision and he spun the other way. “Who’s there?”

  Nothing answered. Nothing moved.

  He was alone.

  But he shouldn’t be!

  Smacking himself in the side of the head, he growled, low and long. “What is wrong with me?!” he questioned the silence. “Why can I not remember what I should!?”

  Because he told you not too…

  “Who said that?”

  Silence.

  Had he imagined the voice? Surely not.

  He wasn’t mad, not like his bastard father. Not like…not like…not like who? A name was right there, teasing the edge of his tongue.

  As surely as he drew his next breath, he knew that was the answer. If he could find that name and say it, everything would go back to normal…

  ***

  Lanni wasn’t quite ready to discuss something so personal, not with, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. But the look in his eyes said he would take nothing less than the truth and give her no answers without it. Shifting back in the chair, she pulled a leg up again, wrapped both arms around it and toyed with the filthy hem of the dress. It was stained with his blood where she’d wiped her hands as she saved his life. She’d gotten so involved with chasing him from room to room and then finding the books he wanted that she’d forgotten how god-awful she must look.

  But there was no repulsion in the glittering gold of his eyes, no derision, just a calm patience as he waited for her to explain.

  So she did.

  “Terra and I are twins,” she said softly.

  His deep chuckle rumbled across the air. “Yes, I realize that.”

  One corner of her mouth curled up in response. “She’s older, by a minute or so but she’s never used that against me. Our mother did though. She always treated Terra as the capable one, the better one, the one that would take over the company when father retired. She went to the best school, got all the best clothes, all the invitations to events…”

  She drew in a long breath, craving to pick up a book and bury herself in the pages, using it to hide her insecurities like she always did. When she glanced up and locked eyes with Arin though, there was no mistaking. If she moved toward one, he’d simply shift to block her. It was a weird sort of cat and mouse moment.

  “Mother never said it,” she finally went on, not moving toward the pile on the covers. “But most of the time, I felt like I wasn’t even there.”

  He interjected a gentle question. “And your other parental?”

  Assuming he meant her father, she shrugged a shoulder. “He treated us fairly equally, but doted on Terra in his own way. He tried to include me when he could and for that I’ll always be grateful.”

  “And what does your sister do, in your world?” he asked next.

  She sighed. The same sense of longing she always had when she talked about her life, settled into the pit of her gut. “She runs the family Fortune 100 Company.”

  His brow pinched downward. “And that is?”

  While he’d been at the party, she’d read two books on his world. One on their past and the other a more recent volume of the last hundred Suns or so. “It would equate to one of the Harpy Corps.”

  His brow pinched deeper. “I see. So, she is a woman well-respected in your world.”

  She dropped her eyes to the floor, focusing on the varying shades of grey in one of the stones. “I suppose.”

  “And you? Do you work for the Corp as well?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not smart enough.”

  He snorted, rather loudly and her eyes whipped up. A possessive gleam flashed across the gold surface. “Never, say, that, again!” He nodded toward his shoulder. “Any woman who can read about something and then do it with such precision, is very smart.”

  Her chest tightened and the impulse to grin like an idiot washed over her entire body. She bit her inner cheek and ducked away, unused to such praise from anyone, much less a perfect stranger who’d known her less than a week. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. Now, go on.”

  She shrugged again. “There’s not much else to say. When Terra and I graduated from college, she immediately started working at the company. I didn’t. I was left on my own, so I focused on books.” Arin’s lips pinched into a thin line when she didn’t say anything else and she tilted her head expectantly. “Your turn.”

  He drew in a long breath and huffed it right back out. “Fine. Fair is fair.” His eyes locked with hers, the gold flashing. “You know what I am, yes?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “Well, not the technical term, but from what I saw, you’re a half-lion, half-horse with wings.”

  “Does it bother you?”<
br />
  “Should it?”

  His face turned to stone. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  A flash of vulnerability rolled across the surface of his eyes and his chest expanded on an indrawn breath. “Because I am a monster.”

  “Really? Huh,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’d have never guessed.” His entire body jerked and a flash of disbelief followed the vulnerable glow she’d just seen. She wanted to reach out and soothe it, but guessed he wouldn’t take kindly to that. “Now, why would you say such a thing?”

  “I have always been seen as such,” he said. “You should be no different.”

  She did rise then and moved over to the bed. Sitting next to his hip, she leaned across it, propping herself up on one hand. Reaching out with the other, she touched his chin. “You keep forgetting, I’m not from here so you’ll have to explain it to me. Why do people think you’re a monster?”

  His Adam’s apple worked and maybe it was the injury, or whatever the Harpy had given him for the pain, but something made his reply come out as a soft, small whisper. “I am Neither-Born.”

  She frowned. “And that means what?”

  “When I came into this world, I was not Chimera nor fully humanoid.” He waved at his face. “I am, this.”

  She traced the line of his nose and ran a knuckle over his cheek. “Handsome?”

  He barked out a sharp laugh. “Not at all.”

  She leaned back, giving him a critical once over then teased, trying to lighten the dark look on his face. “You’re joking, right? Given that wardrobe in the other room, I’m guessing you get all the women.”

  “Hardly,” he snapped. “They come to my bed thinking they can get close to The King. When I tell them no, they are gone just as quickly.”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, considering he tried to kill me for no good reason, I don’t think that’s a problem for me. Do you?”

  ***

  Arin lifted his good arm and curled his hand around her cheek. “I would suppose not.”