Wind Magic

by Nicolette Jinks

  “Stop your fussing. Death's too invested in me to let me kick the bucket before I've run you into the ground.”

  “I hope you're right.”

  “Death is temporary, anyway.”

  Mordon's brow furrowed again. Then he clasped my hands in both of his. “I hope so.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I was convinced you weren't more than a few years younger.”

  “I wanted to impress you.”

  “You made an impression.”

  His hands were rough under mine as I turned them over. “Why can't we communicate like that again? Now that I'm connected to magic again?”

  “I don't know. Maybe the link is broken. Maybe it was a thing you knew how to establish, and you've forgotten how to do it. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Perhaps it was gone once we met in person. The rules of magic do not explain themselves to anyone, and the exceptions to the rule simply are, with no reason at all.”

  He brought my hand up to his lips and gave it a slow, lingering kiss. Holding my hand against his chest, he bent down and whispered, “Perhaps because we have a better way of communicating now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” He turned my wrist up and kissed it, smoothing my sleeve down with his other hand, making my breath hitch. My eyes drifted closed, savoring the sensation of warm lips upon my skin, the feathery rough-smooth feel of his stubble as it scraped against my soft, tender flesh. All at once my heart was pounding and my voice was stuck in my throat. I wanted to say something, anything, but all I was able to do was give a soft sigh.

  Mordon slapped my butt. I shrieked in surprise.

  He ducked away from an anticipated retaliation, grinning broadly.

  “What are we doing on the ground for? Shift. I have something to show you.”

  My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you have to show me?”

  “A few practicalities which you should know if you are to be around other drakes.”

  I crossed my arms. “Nothing fun, then?”

  “Practical matters first will be rewarded with fun later.”

  “Fine.”

  “It will be more than fine. Besides, you want to be in the air. If you relax prior to going through the shift, it will feel better.”

  I guessed it was worth a shot.

  As my eyes shut and all I felt was my own skin being touched by the wind, then my heart moving beneath my veins. I relaxed more, not thinking about anything, and I felt my conscious slip into the element of my magic. The wind as it tickled through my hair and continued onwards. I could feel the rough rasp of tree bark, the powdery pollen of a daisy blooming outside of the gardens Nest kept so clean and ready. I felt the wind as it lifted upwards, past the towers, into the sky. It was a beckoning call, that soft teasing wind. It felt like invisible letters pointing the way home when I was lost. Homing instinct.

  This was calling me upwards, into the sky.

  I shifted forms, feeling my scales itch, my wings stretch out over my back. The tug on my muscles was sharper this time than last time, and I felt a keen pinch in my shoulder as the shift completed.

  Mordon had stayed human. Now his hand rested on my front elbow, casting an admiring gaze along my scales. I was silver and gray and a bit blue, a pattern to blend in with the sky and clouds. I watched as he rubbed his thumb along the purple shell-edge of a scale. When my gaze met his, he said,

  “You have thin scales. Light, flexible, ideal for flight. But be careful not to let anyone pierce you with a talon or tooth, or pull it the wrong way.”

  He demonstrated by grabbing a scale and drawing it hinge-like towards my face. Pain stung at the root. I hissed and tensed, which tightened my hide and caused all my scales to lie flat. Mordon let go in time and was grinning as if I'd done something brilliant. The flash of anger melted at that.

  “Relax, I won't do it again. But it is better I show you than someone else.”

  “Not in the mood,” I said, my voice sounding largely the same to my own ears even though I knew it morphed with the shift.

  “No, I imagine you're in the mood for something quite different.” He tapped my shoulder then stepped back a few paces. “On you go, then, stretch out your wings. I'll be up shortly.”

  My muscles bunched and I almost leaped, but froze at the last second. Taking off was always so clumsy, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself while he was staring.

  “Go on. No one in this sky is going to bite, and if they do, just give them a bite back.”

  This advice was so typical Mordon. At least he wasn't saying that he'd rescue me. I snorted. As if I was afraid of people in the air.

  “Take to the sky like you own the place. You never will if you never claim it.”

  I consciously decided that I was going to make just one jump, and it was going to get me airborne. If I went into the leap expecting it to fail, it would. So I crouched down and lunged into the air.

  My wings snapped out as I began to drift down, and I felt a bush buckle beneath my webbing. A good leap would have been higher. I beat my wings again, gained a bit of altitude, then three or four more times and I cleared a scraggly tree so the uppermost branches tickled my belly. It got easier from there, but as I gained speed, the wind muffled my ears and made breathing difficult.

  From my higher-than-the-tallest tree flight, I felt a bit unsteady and nauseated. The way the world moved across my vision was different from usual, like wearing a new prescription of glasses for the first time. A slip from this height wouldn't kill me, but it would break a leg or damage wings.

  The prospect of shifting back into human form mid-flight sent my heart racing and a hundred unpleasant images in my head. My wing tipped, I wobbled. Adrenalin coursed through my body as I corrected my position. A stabbing pierce of panic struck again, and then I looked at the view around me. Fear fled in seconds, and the skies opened.

  Below me the valley spread out as a green field at the bottom of a gash cut through the earth by a river which at one time in the past had been massive. The river twisting its way over tumbled rocks and around bends was nothing but a stream compared to the size it had to have been in order to erode the canyon into bedrock.

  Around that valley, the ground was dry and brown, mottled by gray leaves of bushes and cut by the green surrounding a few springs which cascaded over the cliff face. The air rushed by me soft and quiet like the babble of a brook. A flap over my ears had folded down as I'd relaxed. Now that I was aware of it, I could control it.

  Once above the lip of the canyon, the air currents changed into a steady, strong wind which kept me aloft without the need to beat my wings. Being in this air tunnel let me focus on the way my body could be shaped. The dip of a wing swept me that direction, the twist of a tail angled me differently in the current. But more than this was the rest of the sensation.

  The beat of my heart in my ears, louder than the wind. The peace of staring out at all that lay below me. The comfort of embracing my emotions in private. I was flying, and I'd never really be used to it in the best way possible.

  Mordon's red dragon form wove through the currents, heading towards me quickly, then slowing as he drew near. I rose over him and surveyed him from the top, able to see the black line following his spine and spreading across his wings. The rest of him blazed true rose red in the single shaft of light which peered through darkening clouds.

  He said nothing, but his head tilted to the side and he blinked, holding ever so still as I drift downward. The feel of the air was faster so close to his back, less buoyant. It would be easy to jostle against him or be thrown off-balance, but I was drawn to the fire drake beneath me. I could smell him, that familiar mixture of pepper and nutmeg mingling with the darker scent of dragon. I wanted to touch him.

  I switched my tail and bent my body, and with the aid of the wind, I raked the dark mark along his spine with my claws, teasing him between the shoulder blades where his wings met his body. It was a vulnerable spot on a dragon, and one that the children loved to hit w
hile they were learning how to master flight.

  Mordon snapped at the air, missing intentionally, but he couldn’t have hit my neck if he meant to. I was little. My body was the smallest of all the dragon forms I'd seen. In an instant, he twisted his body into a roll. His wingtip brushed me and I flinched, backing off to give him room.

  His other wing snapped out over the top of mine and an instant later his head darted through the air. I tucked my wings in to fall, but teeth at the base of my skull stopped me from plunging. My heart skipped. A tendril of fear snaked down my spine as I realized what would happen if those teeth tightened on my neck. Mordon was a talented aerial duelist, and I was no match for him. His body bumped mine, threatening to tip both of us over.

  I hissed a warning.

  His jaw tightened then he released me, getting some distance between us again. “You make lateral rolling seem easy,” he called to me over the rush of the air.

  I angled my head to see him better, and saw he was making another streak for me. With a stroke of my wings, I darted ahead to hide in the oncoming rainstorm. He gave chase.

  Inside the fog that came with the rain, it was a pillowy darkness which called for slow speeds and an easy pace. Water beaded and dripped off my wings. At times I couldn't see ahead at all, and other times I caught a glimpse of Mordon as he came nearly upon my tail.

  We did this, him hunting me, me dodging him. Game or dance, I didn't know, didn't care.

  All I cared for was the air pouring over my wings and through my throat, my heart pounding with thrill every time he drew close enough for a touch. Much as I wanted him to nip me again behind the neck, I wanted even more to tease him with the prospect. He snapped for it, I tucked my wings against myself and went into a roll so he overshot me.

  I played with Mordon by dodging in and out of the clouds until the chill of the clouds penetrated through my scales and irritated my aching shoulder. While I remained warm, the protesting ligaments had been easy to ignore, but as the muscles tightened the pain became unbearable. I could tell that Mordon had not been enjoying the storm from the beginning.

  “Let's get out of this,” I called to him right before lightning struck the hills in the distance and thunder rolled over us.

  “This way,” Mordon said, and dropped elevation.

  I followed him. We weren’t far to the arched steeples marking Kragdomen, and something about stopping the flight so soon irritated me. We neared the landing deck on the castle wall.

  I shifted back into human form, stumbling and almost falling when the weight was gone and I was back on my two feet. The feeling was dizzying, and Mordon caught me by offering his head for me to lean on.

  “My legs feel so weird,” I said.

  Mordon's dragon mouth cracked quirked into a smile. Beneath my hand, his cold-as-glass scales changed texture to be like hard leather, then into cool skin. A soaking wet man stood there beside me, his hair positively a riot of perfect curls, the kind I'd love to be able to make with a curling iron.

  Sorcerer's clothes reacted 'appropriately' to shape changes, so they disappeared and reappeared accordingly. What enchantment was it? I couldn't recall. Something that the fabric makers did during the weaving process. It was a pity, actually, because I would have loved to see Mordon stark naked and dripping wet after a flight like that.

  My cheeks warmed. I licked my lips, the motion drawing his eyes to my mouth. That bump he'd done ages ago...that had been a jostle and nothing else, right? Eagles mated mid-flight, but that didn't mean that drakes did, too. Or that he would … Still breathing hard, I stretched on tip-toe and kissed him. He wrapped me up in his arms and didn't let me go until he was the only stable thing all around.

  We walked along the ramparts. Rain stopped falling on us as we entered the tower, pounding on the roof overhead as we descended.

  “We should get you warm,” Mordon said, guiding me into the castle. Once I ducked beneath an arch, he studied me thoughtfully. “Have you been to the hot spring caves?”

  “What? No. What are they, top secret?”

  We entered a hall. Mordon chuckled and put his arms about my shoulders, walking me across stone floors which were worn by feet and gouged by talons.

  “No, but I think many of our residents simply refer to them as 'baths'. That's not an entirely accurate name. There is a pool near the entrance which is for cleaning, but the deeper you get, the hotter the water is.”

  We went down a set of stairs, the scent of steam and sulfur growing stronger as we finished the descent. Though doorways had heavy drapes to cut drafts from the rest of the castle, the wall against the caves had been left remarkably natural in appearance with no shaping of thresholds or attempt to cover it.

  Inside, it was definitely a cave. Ventilation shafts looked like black holes in the ceiling, beside them burned wall sconces with blue flames. The pool's shape was irregular, though its walls had been carved to form underwater benches. On a tray by the front sat a selection of scented oils in fancy vials. No one else was here.

  Mordon faced a part of the wall with shelves carved into them. He began to remove his over tunic. It struck me that though there were towels and a laundry basket at hand, there were no bathing clothes. And the residents did call this their 'bath'.

  Well, it wouldn't be my first time skinny-dipping, but it would be the first time in front of a man. I took off my shoes first. When I grabbed my shirt, I felt a scream of protest from my shoulder. I gasped.

  “Fera?”

  “Can you help me take this dress off?”

  “Put your arms up. We'll have to get you a side-lacing garment.”

  His fingers barely touched me even when he drew the shirt over my shoulders. Seduction was not his first interest when I was in pain. Caring for me was. I leaned into him, felt his muscles work as he folded my shift and stowed it away. He hesitated, indecisive for a few seconds before asking, “Do you need me to undo your clasp?”

  He meant my bra. “Sure.”

  Once it released, I let out a long breath. Nothing could feel quite so good as taking one of these things off. I brushed one strap down, and froze when Mordon removed the other with a slow stroke reaching from my ear lobe, over my shoulder, and down to my elbow. A shiver ran through me, causing the hairs on my arm to rise.

  Hot breath on my neck made me close my eyes. Lips pressed to my skin, then his hands slid off my elbow, skimmed along the curve of my waist. Thumbs hooked my thong, pulled them down my thighs. I wobbled as I stepped out of them.

  “This isn't my usual routine,” Mordon murmured.

  Nervous about the possibility of being caught, I moved.

  “Oh, how is this different from usual?” I put everything away and headed for the tray of oils, trying to not show how breathless I felt.

  When he didn't answer, I faced him, discovering that he hadn't moved an inch. He smiled, shook his head, and said, “Get in the water. I'll be there in a minute.”

  I'd embarrassed him. Shame on me, to turn a relaxing atmosphere into a sexually-charged one. Though if anyone else were to show up, I'd be the one who was flustered.

  I waded into the water, went along to the mouth of the pool where it was warm enough to ease my muscles. Leaning against the rim, I closed my eyes and enjoyed a momentary lack of pain.

  “Don't fall asleep in the water,” Mordon said, sidling up against me. He poured into the palm of his hand some lemon-lavender oil. His hand glided over my shoulders. I rested against him with a moan.

  “It hurts.”

  “It is inflamed, as well. You will have to see what Nest recommends.”

  “This is so frustrating. I just want it to work.”

  “This is what happens when you damage ligaments. It will get better, but it will take time and lots of physical agony.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You are welcome.”

  With Mordon rubbing simultaneous relief and torture into my neck, shoulder, and arm, I no longer felt so amorous. I flicked the surface of
the slightly-bubbling water. “Where is everybody? You'd think this place would be packed.”

  “It can be. At the moment it's social hour in the mead hall. They'll flock here after they are done talking.”

  “Ah.” I wriggled out of his pain-inflicting embrace. “I want to see the rest of this place.”

  A narrower stream led to a deeper pool fed by an abundance of cold springs. Moving beyond that was a nicely hot, shallower pool. Above that was a small pool with a cramped ceiling and air so thick I could practically open my mouth and drink it. It also made me feel as if I were a handful of spinach in a steamer after ten or so minutes.

  Mordon found me wilting, and decided to play sweating-vegetables with me.

  “This is the pool I like best,” he said and passed me a flask with condensation weeping down its metal exterior. I drank.

  Iced water. Perfect.

  It was so hot in this almost-sauna that we only sat there, a little ways apart, not even speaking. Eventually, I heard a clamor of voices in the mouth of the caves. Mordon sighed. Once a rowdy group of youngsters entered our sanctuary, we headed for the towels.

  “So,” I teased softly as we wriggled damp skin into clothing, “your place or mine?”

  From that smile, he knew exactly what I meant. He wrapped an arm around my waist and said in my ear, “My place has the bigger bed.”

  I touched his cheek, anticipating a kiss.

  “Mordon!” Denise interrupted, wearing a towel, still soaking from a dip in the water. She was on the cusp of teenagerhood, with dark hair and an energy which shone through her eyes. She was also not one to accept ‘no’ for an answer, at least not for long. I got the distinct impression she'd been looking for us. “You wouldn't believe what your sister said she saw!”

  I crossed my arms at her in annoyance. “This had better be good, apprentice of mine.”

  “Ya, ya, it is. It means you can't go with Mordon.”

  I wondered if she knew what I had in mind to do with him. At twelve or so, Denise could have been taught all the details, or she could still be an innocent. All I said was, “Why not?”

  “Because, Aeron said he saw Caledon fly in. And your brood-ring is for the heir of Kragdomen. If there's any doubt about who that's supposed to mean, then there will be a big old fight between Mordon and Caledon.”