Flame Kissed (Seeking the Dragon Book 1)

by Alexis Radcliff

  Not almost the same. Literally the same. I was staring up at three carbon copies of the same person, all smiling at me with their awful dead eyes. The worst was when they all cocked their heads at me in unison, their chins ticking over like clockwork.

  I started screaming at the top of my lungs and thrashing at my restraints as hard as I could. “Mom Dad Katie Nick Matt anyone! God, anyone!” I shouted. “Help help help help!”

  The bed shook, but the restraints held, and the three men watched me without moving until my voice had grown hoarse. No one had come or even responded. All I’d managed to do was displace the sheet covering my torso a little. It slipped off and to the side, exposing more of my skin to the cold air. My whole body was covered in goosebumps, and I couldn’t stop trembling. I’d started crying at some point, and I gulped in air between frantic sobs.

  “Why are you doing this?” I pleaded.

  The man who’d stood beside me the longest turned and theatrically flung the sheet off the covered tray behind him.

  All manner of strange tools were laid out on the tray: scalpels and hooks, serrated blades and clamps with sharp edges. It was like a civil war surgeon and the world’s most sadistic dentist had crashed into each other and someone had picked up the worst parts of both of their kits. I felt like throwing up. If this was a hallucination, it was the worst hallucination ever.

  Again I rattled against the restraints, hard enough to make the bed bounce, and yelled my head off. The man’s hand floated over his tray of tools, unconcerned. It alighted briefly on each handle it passed with a familiar touch, like a lover’s caress.

  I wept and pleaded for them to let me go. His slender fingers wrapped around the polished handle of a wicked-looking scalpel. He raised it in front of his face, rotating the blade so that it glinted in the dull light. His smile seemed reverent now.

  I scrunched my eyes closed and started whispering to myself. “It’s not real. You’re sick, you’re not well, but you’re still at the lodge. None of this is real.”

  But it felt all too real when I opened my eyes and saw the scalpel descending toward my face. The three men leaned in eagerly while it wavered inches from me. I screamed and turned my head away.

  Their nostrils flared as they inhaled as one, seemingly delighted by my fear, and the cold, dark smell of them pushed down on me like a weight.

  “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” I yelled to myself, waiting for the bite of the scalpel on my cheek.

  The room rumbled. The three men drew back and looked at the ceiling. I panted helplessly, still weeping, glad for whatever had stopped them, however momentarily it was.

  Then the room stilled and they turned back to me as one. I was drawing a breath for another round of screams when the roof tore away from the walls. The men looked up again, and I blinked at the sudden glare of daylight—sort of. I stared into the open air of a yawning sky painted in crimson hues, with pale pink clouds floating by. A warm breeze sailed in and dispelled some of the chill.

  A glowing-red rod flew into the room and hit the man to my left in the chest. He was carried backwards against the stone wall and impaled there as the molten bar sank six inches into the rock. Another rod slammed down on the man in front of me, pinning him to the floor. Both of them struggled feebly and erupted into flames, their creepy grins never wavering as they silently burned.

  I shied away from the flames by instinct, but I was too surprised to do anything else as a handsome young man in a swirling blue cloak floated down into the room. His feet touched the floor and his cloak stilled. Without missing a beat, the remaining smiling man flicked his wrist and whipped the scalpel at the cloaked man’s heart, but the stranger threw a hand out and deflected it with a blue flash that was almost too fast to see. He thrust his other hand out in the same motion. A third molten rod appeared out of nowhere and rammed through the last smiling man’s stomach. He stumbled away, burning silently just like his friends had.

  The blue-cloaked man straightened, gazing around the room at the smoking carnage. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulder-length hair that was so blonde it almost looked white and strange eyes which glowed with a pale violet light. I’d called him handsome at first glance, but now that I could see him better I realized ‘handsome’ was the wrong word. He was so good-looking you’d almost say he was pretty. I saw other cloaked figures flying through the red sky overhead, and I heard the crunch of stone and the hiss of flame all around us.

  He seemed to notice me for the first time and gestured toward the bed. All four restraints loosened at once. I sat up and rubbed my wrists as relief flooded through me. If I was going to hallucinate scary men with scalpels, at least I could also hallucinate heroic wizards to save me.

  “Thank you so m—” I started to say.

  “Shut up.” He held his hand out, palm up, and lifted it. His eyes glowed brighter for a moment. My angry reply cut off, replaced by a yelp as I suddenly floated into the air and bobbled above the bed like a balloon. He made some strange motions, and glowing blue bands appeared around my wrists, ankles, and neck. A long, thin line of the same shimmery material stretched out from the band at my neck and wrapped around his right hand. He tugged on it. My wrists and ankles snapped together as I floated toward him.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, struggling against my new restraints. Had this guy rescued me only to chain me up and stick a leash on me like I was some kind of pet? The bands flexed like rubber, but I couldn’t dislodge them.

  Instead of responding, he raised both his hands. His eyes blazed violet again and his heels left the ground.

  “Whoa, wait!” I shouted, but it was too late. He rocketed up into the brilliant red sky, wind rushing at his sides, and pulled me along with him.

  Ella

  The wizard shot through the sky like a comet, his eyes radiating intense violet light. Whatever he had done to me, it made me lighter than the air around us, and I trailed behind him on my glowing leash like a bikini-clad kite. I might have thought it was neat to sail through the air like this if I could relax and take in the scenery. Who hasn’t dreamed of flying? But instead I spent the whole flight rolling in chaotic circles, buffeted by strong winds and alternating between stomach-lurching drops and dizzying spirals.

  I was too nauseous and disoriented to think about anything except how miserable I was for the duration of the trip, and the few snatches of the land around me I was able to catch from the corner of my eye didn’t make any sense at all: Bright red skies with pale pink clouds, like someone had palette-swapped the whole atmosphere. Rolling forests of twisted crystals as white as milk. Fuchsia vines which pulsed like veins threading across the surface of murky blue lakes, and huge islands which floated in the sky, unsupported by anything at all and seemingly unaffected by gravity.

  This was the dumbest psychotic break anyone had ever had. How did I even come up with this stuff? I wouldn’t be reading any more books about monsters or wizards when it was over—that was for sure. Another wave of nausea hit me as I cascaded into a barrel roll, and the rest of my conscious thoughts were replaced by the same kinds of thoughts you have when you’re careening at full speed down the worst drop of the scariest roller-coaster at the amusement park… stretched out over five minutes or so.

  We moved along quickly. By the time I’d started noticing something bright growing on the horizon, we were almost there. The wizard halted, floating in place, and I had a brief and glorious moment to catch my breath. A golden city covered by an ethereal, translucent dome stretched out below us, with an enormous, sparkling castle at the center. The castle had seven towers, each taller than the next, and the largest of them rose up in the middle. Delicate bridges with intricate designs connected them in a spiral pattern, and the light shimmered across the surface of it all. I stared in mute wonder. It was beautiful enough to take my breath away, if the flight here hadn’t already done that.

  “Wow…” I murmured.

  But then the wizard dove toward the castle and my
stomach clenched again. We flew toward the shining towers at an alarming speed, even faster than falling, and I eyed the spiked tips of the towers nervously as they rushed up at us. The second tallest tower grew larger and larger and the wizard showed no sign of slowing down. I closed my eyes and screamed, bracing for impact with the shimmering wall, but then I felt myself slow.

  We’d landed on some sort of fenced balcony platform that jutted out from the top of the tower. The wizard’s heels touched down on polished marble, and I twisted in the air behind him a few feet off the ground, still tossed about by the strong winds that blew this high up in the air. But I was also glad that I hadn’t been smashed to paste on the side of the castle. Now that I was closer I was able to see that the sparkling walls of the towers were slick and a bit see-through, like thick glass or crystal, although they didn’t reveal anything inside.

  The wizard’s blue cloak settled down and the violet glow faded from his eyes. “Mariana!” he called. His voice startled me with its richness and depth. It was the kind of voice made for reading romantic poetry or singing ballads. I was just about to start making excuses for why he might have needed to handle me roughly to get me back here quickly when he snapped his fingers, and I collapsed to the ground like a sack full of potatoes.

  “Owww!” I groaned and flexed my hands and legs again. The glowing bands still secured them tightly, and I’d banged my hip in the fall. I glared up at my captor, annoyed that he was still ignoring me and treating me like this. All romantic notions that this jerk cared anything for my well-being vanished.

  An older woman in a green and white woolen shawl scurried out onto the balcony. I was relieved to see that she didn’t have the same glowing eyes or ageless beauty that the wizard did. Other than the green-glowing runes painted on her face, she could have been someone’s grandmother. She bent low to the ground in front of the wizard.

  “Welcome home, Prince Rhys,” she said. “I trust your raid on the Eldritch went well?”

  “Indeed,” he said. He tossed my glowing leash at her feet. “Deal with this.”

  I wriggled myself onto my knees and stared after him as he walked out of the room, hopelessly confused. So my rescuer was some sort of wizard royalty? Mariana gathered up my leash as she rose. She came towards me and gripped my chin between her fingers, gently and firmly, turning my head first one way and then the other. She seemed to be inspecting me. The runes on her face glowed brightly, and I felt a tingle run through me. I was too surprised to respond, and too overwhelmed to fight back.

  Then she let go of my chin and put her hands on her hips, straightening. “They must not have held you very long,” she said. “Do you know who you are?”

  The question caught me off guard. It seemed like a ridiculous thing to ask me. “Do I… yes, of course I know who I am,” I said. “Ella Denton. But I don’t know who you are. Or where I am. Or what’s happening.”

  Mariana grunted. “That’s all to be expected, child. What’s important is that you still have your wits about you and no touch of the contagion. You seem unharmed. You’re a very lucky girl.”

  I blinked at her. “This is the weirdest hallucination I’ve ever heard of.”

  The smile she gave me was full of sympathy. “I wish you were hallucinating, child. It’s a hard thing to lose your old life. But learn to please the prince and you’ll adjust quick enough. I did. You’re his property now.”

  I didn’t like the way she said ‘please the prince’, and I certainly didn’t appreciate being told I was anyone’s property. But seeing as I was still bound at wrist and ankle, I decided to play along for a while and try to figure out what the heck was going on. Whether this was a dream or a hallucination, there seemed to be some order to it. Maybe I could end it or control it if I could learn more about it.

  “Fine,” I said. “If I’m not hallucinating, then where am I?”

  “You’re in the golden city of Alkazar,” she said. “Home of the Aethlings, at the heart of the Ether-Realm.”

  I stared blankly at her. “Should I know what that means?”

  “I wouldn’t think so. Most humans don’t when they arrive here.”

  I tossed my hair in frustration. This lady was worse than a fortune cookie when it came to explaining things. “So who is this King Rhys guy and what does he want with me, exactly?”

  “Prince Rhys Alvarion,” she corrected me, “is the leader of the Aethlings for as long as his father slumbers. He makes war on the Eldritch with his brethren and claims their human captives as servants and concubines when he frees them, provided they’re still sane enough to serve.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. “And what exactly is an Aethling?”

  “They’re the immortal princes of the Ether-Realm,” Mariana explained. “They defend the source of magic.”

  “Right. And this Ether-Realm you keep mentioning is…”

  “The world between worlds. Millions and millions of realities exist, child. More than you can comprehend. The Ether-Realm is the gateway between them, where all worlds touch.”

  I was getting tired of listening to this nonsense. This lady sounded like a blathering info dump out of one of the crazier fantasy novels I’d read. Maybe it didn’t matter what weird internal logic drove this place. I just needed to figure out how to snap out of the delusion.

  “So how do I get home, then?” I asked.

  “You don’t.” Prince Rhys had returned, looking refreshed. He’d taken off his cloak and now wore clothing that looked like it was also straight out of fantasy novel: a deep blue coat and pants, richly embroidered with silver trim. His hair had been combed and slicked back, and he took the end of my leash once again from Mariana as he stepped out onto the balcony. “She was recoverable, then?” he asked Mariana.

  The woman gave a curt nod. “They must have taken her very recently. Her mind was intact.”

  Prince Rhys studied me with those strange glowing eyes of his. His eyes lingered on me in a way that reminded me I was still in my stupid black bikini, and I squirmed in self-conscious discomfort.

  “Could you guys maybe take these things off of me?” I asked, holding up my wrists.

  “She doesn’t look accustomed to labor,” Rhys muttered. “But she might serve as a concubine. Her body is quite beautiful.”

  “Excuse me?” I demanded, annoyed at being discussed like a piece of meat.

  “Your sister did request a new servant when the opportunity permitted, my prince,” Mariana said.

  “Valeria doesn’t need another servant.” Rhys sighed. “But there’s no reason she can’t both serve my sister and my pleasure.”

  “Hey!” I said. “Could we stop talking about me like I’m some kind of pet? I’m not serving anyone.”

  The prince’s eyes blazed. He strode forward and pulled me roughly to my feet by the collar, and then leaned forward until his face was inches away from mine. I tried to shrink back but he held me tightly.

  “You have been most insolent so far,” he said. “Despite your incredible fortune. Whether you would have preferred to remain with those Eldritch or not, you are now mine to do with as I wish, and you will learn to respect your betters.” He slipped a hand around my lower back and pulled me even closer, violet eyes boring into me. “You will learn humility, or I will teach you myself. And I’ll take great pleasure in it. Do you understand?”

  My legs clenched and my chest tightened. His tone frightened me. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but my tongue wasn’t quite cooperating. I realized I was at this man’s mercy, at least for now, so finally I gave him a petulant nod and looked away. I was furious at myself for letting him cow me like that, but it was a relief when he released me. Mariana had watched the exchange impassively, and I threw her an angry glare too. I couldn’t believe she’d just let the prince act like that in front of her.

  Rhys studied my reactions, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “You might be fun, actually. It’s been some time since I’ve broken in a new concubine that still
had some spunk in her. Let’s see if you have any talents that I might make use of.”

  I squawked in protest as he swept me up in his arms and carried me off the balcony and into the chamber just inside the tower. Bookshelves lined the walls and comfortable chairs were scattered around the room. Other than the shining marble floors and the huge opening that yawned out onto the balcony, it looked like a fancy sitting room you might see on a TV show about old-timey rich folks. Rhys set me down in the middle of it, chanting softly, while Mariana trailed silently behind. All I could do was glare at them, hobbled as I was.

  His eyes glowed bright again, and a magical circle flashed into view on the floor around me throwing off more purple light. Rhys’s chant continued, and I started feeling tingly and light-headed. I wanted to ask what he was doing, but some invisible force slid over me, constricting me and holding me totally still. My heart pattered and my pulse raced. A tingling feeling in my stomach formed a tight knot and then expanded like a bubble. It floated into my chest before continuing on into my throat and swelled there, growing and growing in the back of my mouth, until I felt like my head might burst from the pressure. Rhys chanted louder.

  A rushing sound filled my ears and the bubble burst. My mouth dropped open as it forced its way out. It was the first few notes of a song, a beautiful operatic melody I’d been taught by my first voice instructor. The magic caught at my lungs and kicked them into action, yanking more of the music out of me whether I willed it or not. Golden, translucent ribbons appeared in the air as I sang, spinning around me and rippling softly, and I stared at them incredulously as I finished the entire remainder of the first verse, frozen in place.

  Rhys stared at me with a sour expression. His chant had died off as my song had emerged.

  “A musician,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “What am I supposed to do with a musician?” He shook his head.