To Light the Dragon's Fire

by Margaret Taylor

  She shuddered and Draven’s eyes swung back to hers. His brace covered hand dropped and touched her calf reassuringly. “And then?”

  A huff of air left the woman’s beak. “If you do it correctly, the spell should be broken.”

  Something in her voice caused Terra to ask, “And if we don’t?”

  Those black eyes lifted to hers, sparkling with power. “You will all die.”

  Draven sucked in a breath and his fingers squeezed around her leg. She chuckled and stroked his hair. “So, no pressure.”

  The quip lightened the moment and he sighed the air back out. “Yes, no pressure.”

  The Crone snorted out a soft laugh of her own. Using the staff, she heaved herself hand over hand up its length, wavering unsteadily once she was on her feet. “I will send someone round with a list on the daylight.”

  Draven touched her arm before she could depart. “Thank you, Crone Mother. For everything.”

  She patted his hand. “Of course, My Liege. I could do no less.” With that cryptic statement, she shuffled away into the dark, her creaking bones the only sound to mark the fact she’d ever been there at all.

  Alone, she toyed with his hair again, reassured by the body heat against the ends of her fingers that he was really here and not some figment of her imagination. He was alive, not exactly well, but alive!

  “You should get some rest,” she finally said when the silence stretched off into the night.

  “I know. As should you.”

  “Yeah. Lanni needs me though,” she countered.

  Anger vibrated through his response. “She is a grown woman. She can fend for herself.”

  It was the spell talking, deep down she knew that, but still, the word’s hurt. She tried to cover the reaction by changing the subject. Moving around in front of the chair, she helped him stand. “Come on you. Let’s get you in bed. You look ready to keel over.”

  He accepted her aid with a sniff of indignation. “I have never keeled,” he grumbled.

  She laughed and looked up into his eyes as she settled his arm across her shoulders and put hers around his waist. “I don’t doubt that.”

  She had so many questions, but they would wait. Lanni had answered many of them on their voyage across the sea, but there was much her twin didn’t know. Things only Draven would be able to answer.

  She nudged the door open, setting her demanding need to know aside for the time being.

  Ion shot to his feet at their entrance and immediately fell to a knee, his head bowed to his chest, disbelief in his next two words. “My King.”

  She twisted around Draven’s chest, directing a soft command the poor man’s way. “Ion, would you find us something to eat? I’m starving.”

  The Rider snapped off a formal salute. “I will prepare a meal forthwith, Your Majesty.”

  Draven turned his head and sighed. “Do not trouble yourself Rider, we can make do.”

  Ion looked up, eyes going saucer wide and shook his head vehemently. “Nay, nay. I will cook.” He rose and disappeared into the kitchen.

  She edged the door open to the room Arin had given her. Helping him toward the wide bed, she let him ease onto the covers. “Do all your minions act like that?”

  Draven’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Most.”

  “Oh good Gods above! It’s a wonder you can even dress yourself,” she teased.

  He stretched back on the covers, maneuvering around slowly until he could lean back against the headboard. “I do just fine thank you. I even choose my own clothing when I feel like it.”

  She laughed outright. Grabbing a pillow she propped it under his cast covered foot. “I see. Well, you really need to update your wardrobe in that case.”

  He quirked a brow, the colors in his eyes dancing playfully despite the thick bags under them. “And why is that?”

  “Because that grey suit you wore when we met looked horrendous.”

  It was an outright lie, he pulled off a three-piece better than any other executive she’d ever known! She’d never tell him that though. His ego was big enough.

  No, that was wrong. Draven didn’t have an ego. He had presence, yes, and confidence, but no ego. He could be arrogant but hadn’t ever been high-handed about it.

  Well, except for throwing her out of the pit.

  It saved your life…

  She snorted at her inner voice. Semantics!

  The door eased back with a creak and Ion entered, interrupting the argument. He carried a tray laden with two steaming bowls and crossed the room to set it on the stand next to the bed. “It is not much. I fear the Advisor’s staples are quite lacking.” He started backing from the room. “I will shop on the daylight, Your Majesty.”

  Draven nodded and waved dismissively. “Very well.”

  She shot him a glare and called out to her friend. “Thank you, Ion.”

  The Rider graced her with a smile and shut the door in his wake.

  Draven frowned at her look. “What is that for?”

  She huffed, picking up one of the bowls. Spooning up some of the steaming concoction, she held it out for him. “You really should be more gracious.”

  He grunted, taking the mouthful off the silverware. “I did not call to have him beheaded, did I?”

  “Oy Vey…” She plunked the bowl down on his chest and stood. “I need to check on Lanni.”

  His fingers brushed her wrist. She turned back and the fear in his eyes ripped a Grand Canyon sized hole right through her chest cavity. It was a living, breathing thing and she just couldn’t bring herself to look away.

  His hand slid down, fingers intertwining with hers. “Stay,” he whispered. “Please, stay.”

  ***

  “You know he did not mean it.”

  Lanni didn’t bother to turn around. She hadn’t heard the Crone enter the barn, but the flaring of Dinsa’s nostrils had given her a warning someone was there. She’d half-hoped it was Arin, ok more than half-hoped.

  Abom—

  Oh shut the fuck up! Enough already! I get it! Now, leave me the hell alone!

  She drew in a long breath and replied to that not-so-simple statement. “I know.”

  The Crone’s talons shuffled through the hay in the main aisle, her staff thunking softly against the floor as she stopped on the other side of the stall’s door. “Do you love him?”

  She stroked Dinsa’s neck, leaned her forehead against it and answered honestly. “I don’t know.” She paused long enough to swallow back the acid-burn in her throat. “I’d like to think I could though.”

  The door opened and the Crone patted the end of Dinsa’s beak as she passed. The traitor purred, remained unmoving and that same hand landed on her shoulder. “You can. It will not be an easy thing to break. Golix is a powerful enemy.”

  She twisted her face around, staring down into the woman’s pitch-black eyes. “But why us? Why me? Why did he have to involve me dammit!?”

  The Crone’s talons came up and gently swept her long hair back over her shoulder. “It is the way of such things. The spell calls for a catalyst. Sadly, you are that.”

  “Great! First I’m a fuck up in my world and now I’m a catalyst in this one. I can’t win…”

  The woman chuckled at her choice wording and gently rubbed a hand up and down her back. It was a soothing gesture and she almost, almost buried her face in the soft down of her feathers. She needed a really, really good cry and the Harpy seemed to be the only one tempted to offer up a shoulder.

  She blinked back the tears. Now was not the time. There were things that needed doing. She had no clue what they were, but had the distinct feeling the Harpy was about to tell her.

  And she wasn’t wrong.

  “Your journey is just beginning child. You know this.”

  She did strangely enough. She patted Dinsa’s neck, the rigidness of his scales a weird balm to the ache in her heart. It was one of those clarifying moments when she knew she was going to leave this place, leave the safety
and security of her sister and truly be alone for the first time in her life. “So, where am I off to? Should I pack a bag or just go?”

  “You will find all you need along the way,” the Crone said cryptically.

  She snorted. “You know, I really hate it when people say things like that…”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Tell me about this oath…”

  Terra’s soft question drew Draven out of the half-sleep state he’d drifted into. Blinking, he shifted to find some comfort from his aches and pains. Tightening his arm around her back, he pulled her closer to his side and let out a long breath. “A hundred Suns ago, my father went to your world,” he started.

  Her head lifted off his shoulder and she propped it on a fist, trailing her other hand down his chest. He wanted to moan from the tenderness in her touch. He kept it to himself though, mostly because his body really wasn’t up for such things. His lower half had other ideas and filled with a blast of raging heat. This was his Kyleri, his one true Mate and he wanted her, despite the current condition he was in…

  Her eyebrow quirked into the air. “Oh? And what did he think of it?”

  The questions distracted him enough to focus. “He was amazed.”

  “Is that when he met Diana and Tom?” she asked next.

  “I believe so.” He teased a finger down her ribs, staring up into her eyes. “I do not know all he saw or did, but the laptop I found made reference to Decia and Torak and an oath between them.”

  Terra nibbled on her lower lip, her brow furrowing in thought. And bloody fire if she didn’t look sexy as all the Nether Worlds doing it too!

  “Do not do that,” he begged softly.

  She blinked. “What?”

  He brought his good hand up and feathered his fingers though her hair. “Chew on your lip. It is distracting.”

  She grinned cockily. “Is it now…”

  He groaned, unable to halt the sound from passing his lips, despite his best intentions. Clasping the back of her head, he brought it close with a gentle tug. She didn’t resist but stopped an inch or so away. “By the Gods woman, kiss me already!”

  Her laugh rumbled over his hearts, tightening them in a vice. She would be the death of him, but oh what a way to go! Kneading the back of her neck, he gave it just enough pressure to close that last inch and took the full, delectable flesh of her lips with his own.

  She didn’t hesitate, giving him full access to her mouth with a slight tilt of her head.

  A possessive growl rolled up from his toes, passing from him to her. An inferno raged through his veins, threatening to blast him apart if he couldn’t have all of her. Mind, body, heart and soul, he needed everything she was willing to give and soon!

  The door burst inward and they pulled apart.

  “Falagnock!” he cursed under his breath.

  Ion stood there, his eyes taking in the scene and spun quickly, giving them his back. “Forgive, Sire, but, you must come.”

  The innuendo in there tore a bubbling giggle from the mouth he’d just been kissing and she ducked her face into his neck. He sighed and stroked her hair. “What is the problem?”

  He could hear the Rider shifting from one foot to the other and his heart sank.

  Either Arin had killed someone already, was on the verge of it, or his Kyleri’s twin was up to no good.

  A dozen scenario’s raced through his thoughts, but what the man eventually said was not one of them.

  “I just received word from the Capitol. They are coming for the Advisor.”

  ***

  Terra sat up. “Shit!” She rose and paced the length of the room, her fingers fluttering wildly. An old habit she’d never been able to break when she was thinking. She stopped and gave Ion a pointed look. “Ok, how much time do you figure we have?”

  He straightened his shoulders, eyes narrowing. “Until what?”

  She rolled hers. “Until they get here!”

  “Oh. I would guess at least six rotations. Maybe three if they use one of the new Cyclops ships.”

  “New ships?” Draven interjected.

  Ion’s gaze slid over to the bed. “Yes Your Majesty. I noted there were two in port as we left Kyles. Both have the new Klyesxa 4000 engines they have been developing.”

  Draven looked impressed.

  Terra sighed. Boys and their toys apparently didn’t change no matter what world you were in! “So, three rotations if we’re unlucky.”

  “Correct,” Ion said.

  “Then let’s count on that.” She turned toward the bed. “What do you think? Should we stay here? Arin said his Pride would protect us.”

  Draven’s mouth formed into a hard line. “Normally they would. But not this time. Not from their own people.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Their own people?”

  Draven ran a hand through his hair, mussing it and she wanted to smooth it back into place. “There is a treaty in place. The Chimera formed an alliance with House Taraxus during my father’s reign. They are subject to the laws of Bra’ka same as any other citizen.”

  She scratched the back of her neck. “So, they’ll just hand him over?”

  The look on Draven’s face was like a sucker punch to the gut. Anger, dread, fear and protectiveness warred within the red-orange of his eyes and she felt each and every one of them right along with him. “Alright then, is there any place we can go that they won’t?”

  “There is one,” Draven said. “But the cost will be high.”

  Now was probably going to be the best time to tell him about the dagger. “Well, see, here’s the thing. I sort of traded the only thing we had of value back in Roasu.”

  His eyes flashed dangerously. “And what was that?”

  She cringed and averted her gaze. “A dagger? The one that was in the bag you left behind in the jungle…” she added quickly. A sharp intake of air followed the explanation and she looked up, only to see tears pooling in his eyes. Guilt chewed through her intestines and settled like a boulder in her gut. “It was important, wasn’t it.”

  His throat worked but his voice was steady. Even so, the words sliced her soul into tiny little ribbons. “Arin made it himself and gave it to me as a Coronation gift.”

  “Well,” she sputtered. “Flagnock!”

  ***

  Arin was well into his third mug by the time it started. As it always happened when he was home, someone just had to bring up his heritage. And for once, just once, he was actually in the right mood to defend himself.

  “Well, well, well, if it is not the Neither-Born,” a voice sneered.

  He didn’t turn but lifted his eyes to the mirror over the bar.

  Kru, the silver and brown Gamma of the 1st Pride stood directly behind him, along with four others he vaguely recognized. The head on the right was laughing and the one on the left was smirking. “What happened? Did the Council send you home with your tail between your humanoid legs?”

  He gripped the mug, the Rustac metal it was made of groaning in protest. “No. I returned of my own free will.”

  One of Kru’s paws raised, shoving him in the shoulder. “That is not what the news is saying,” the left sneered. “Yeah,” the right added.

  Fortunately, Kru had never been all that smart, which is how he ended up as the Pride’s Gamma. The only lower rank in the hierarchy was his own as Neither-Born.

  Still he didn’t turn. He wanted the perfect moment to throw the first punch.

  The front door opened and Lanni stood on the threshold, the rising sun at her back. Her face was shadowed but something in the set of her shoulders sent both his hearts into his throat. He let go of the mug and headed for the door just as she stepped inside, letting it close behind her. One look at her red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks and everything else vanished.

  For him.

  Not so much for Kru.

  The bastards left head growled a comment as he passed. “I always knew you liked ‘em cheap and small, but really Neither-Born
? You could not do better than that ugly, smelly, scrawny little scrap of a thing?”

  The other patrons went completely still.

  He stopped too, eyes flying to Lanni’s. Fresh tears pooled on her lids and she gulped so loudly he could hear it across the room. He lifted a hand to Thonu’s hilt, wrapping it around the grip.

  “Arin,” she whispered, blinking rapidly and shaking her head. “Don’t.”

  Too late. Red filmed his vision, pinpointing her in a cone. He could let most anything go, he really could. He’d always thought he had a rather calm demeanor. But, insulting his Lyra was not something he would tolerate. Ever.

  At the same time, killing another member of the Pride over words was not acceptable by their laws. A part of him knew that, not the thinking part in that moment, but enough of himself to lower his hand from the sword.

  Kru snickered. “Just like always eh Neither-Born? You are just going to stand there and take it.” The paw shoved him in the shoulder again, sending him forward by a single step and that was it.

  Sweeping a nearly full mug off the closest table, he spun. Bringing the improvised weapon around, he cracked Kru across the right heads temple. It bounced into the other, knocking the bastard off his feet and the fight was on…

  ***

  Before Draven could say anything else, the front door of Arin’s home flew open, banging back into the wall. “Now what?”

  Terra had shuttered off her feelings, he felt it the moment she’d cursed over giving up the dagger.

  And he wanted to be angry about it, he really did, even after she’d taken a moment to explain the reason they’d had to do it. He could see her side though. She had no way to know he was still alive and it was the only thing they had to work with.

  The Alpha of the 4th Pride could be a right bastard, when he wanted to be, and he didn’t doubt for a heartbeat he would have taken either of the Roc’s as payment if she hadn’t intervened. Nothing for it now. He would just have to get it back later. It would cost him a pretty necat to do it, but it would be worth it.

  Lanni landed against the jamb of the door to the bedroom, interrupting his thoughts. She had one arm wrapped around her stomach and her chest heaved like she’d run across all 18 of the plateaus the Chimera called home.