“Yes,” Evelyn replied.
She stepped into the hall, and three pairs of eyes turned to look at her.
Zach cursed softly beneath his breath at Evelyn’s expression. “What did you hear?”
“You’re keeping something from me. What is it?”
“Evelyn, it’s nothing. We were discussing dragon business.”
“Who’s still alive?”
“Xavier.” Lydia dared Zach with a look. “Xavier’s alive. But he’s not the same.”
Evelyn grabbed the table to steady herself and Lleland leapt up and poured her a glass of wine. She took a large gulp, then sank down to the bench. “He’s alive?” She shook her head. “That’s impossible. I saw him die.” She glanced between the faces to see they were watching her closely. “But … how?”
“When Xavier was hit with the Greek fire, he lost his physical form,” Lleland said.
“The gold liquid?” Evelyn whispered.
“Yes. Aaron kept him safe until he was ready to be reborn.”
“Reborn?”
Zach dropped to his haunches beside Evelyn. “Xavier’s not the same person. Or dragon. He remembers nothing.”
“But … how did this happen? How can he be reborn?”
“I don’t know. But Xavier’s different to any other dragon. From the moment of his birth, he was unlike any other dragon that had walked this earth.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dragons are usually born in human form, and take on their dragon forms when they reach puberty. Xavier was the opposite.”
“He was born as a dragon?” Her eyes flew to Lydia.
“Actually, he was hatched,” she said wryly. “But even as a child, Xavier was powerful. Aaron always believed he would be the one to break the curse.”
“What curse?”
Lydia moved to sit beside her. “It’s a long story, Evelyn. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Yes,” Evelyn said. She shook her head in amazement as Lydia told her the story of the first dragons. They were gifted by the Creator to protect themselves, but the gift became a curse when they abused their power and turned on the villagers who had persecuted them.
“We have lived under the curse for many generations, but one of our legends told of a savior who would break it.”
“And you think that is Xavier?”
“We do,” Lydia said. “He’s the first dragon ever born uncursed.”
“I see.” Evelyn stared at her fingers for a moment. “When can I see him?”
Lydia placed her hand over Evelyn’s. “He remembers nothing,” she said gently.
“We haven’t even seen him yet,” Zach added. “We only know what Aaron’s told us.”
“Promise me that you’ll take me to see him, Zach.”
He ran his hand through his hair with a groan, before meeting her gaze. “Aaron is going to kill me, but I promise,” he said. “But not yet. You have to wait.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t it enough to know he’s alive?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “For now.”
Chapter 33
The enormous white dragon observed the golden dragon curiously. There was a familiarity about him that he couldn’t pinpoint, so instead he had watched and listened. The dragon made strange noises which the white dragon found odd; it was clear he was trying to communicate, but the dragon had no knowledge of the sounds. There were several that the gold dragon repeated, however, and slowly he began to understand. The gold dragon had a name for himself which the white dragon found confusing – the giving of names was not necessary in his dragon world. But he knew that the gold dragon wanted him to learn the sound. Aaron. He twisted his tongue around the word, trying it out before saying it aloud.
“Aaron.”
The scent of pleasure wafted from the gold dragon, but it was mingled with something else. The white dragon cocked his head as he considered the smell. Worry. Aaron was worried about something, and the dragon frowned. He did not wish him to be worried.
“Do you remember me?” The dragon considered the words. They carried meaning, but he wasn’t sure what it was. “From before?”
Before? He thought of the words he had heard Aaron using. “Before … no. Born … new. You.”
“You were not born of me. I nurtured you while you healed.”
Healed? The dragon wasn’t sure what that meant.
Days passed, and the dragon understood more of Aaron’s strange sounds. He talked about a battle and Greek fire, and the dragon being reborn. But the dragon had dismissed his ramblings. He had sprung into existence from the flames, and there was nothing before that.
More days passed and the dragon learned more of the sounds that Aaron made, and how they were strung together. Aaron spoke about many things, although there was little the dragon found of interest.
“You must try to remember, Xavier. You had another entire life,” Aaron said.
The dragon frowned. “What Xavier?” he asked.
“Your name.”
“Name?” the dragon scoffed. “No name.”
“It is how you are known.”
“Human name?”
“It is. You are both human and dragon.”
“Not human. Not Xavier.”
“Then what should I call you?”
The dragon cocked his head as he considered. “Drægón,” he finally said.
“Very well. Drægón.” Aaron considered him for a moment. “It is time you saw the others.”
“No wish see others.”
“You must. You are the Master of a large and powerful clan.”
Drægón considered this for a moment. Until now, he had not given thought to other dragons, but it made sense that if there were others, he was the greatest of them all. Already he knew he was far more powerful than Aaron.
“Yes.”
“We must introduce them to their new leader as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more dissatisfied the clan will become. Already discontent is growing. The sooner they offer you their fealty and form the blood bond, the better.”
“You?”
“Yes, I too will give you my fealty.”
“Now.”
“Very well.” Aaron bared his neck, and Drægón clamped his jaws at the base, biting deeply to draw Aaron’s blood. He swallowed greedily as it flowed into his mouth, rich and decadent. He could taste Aaron’s power, and it fed his own.
Stepping back, he tipped his own neck and waited as Aaron bit into his hide. Aaron swallowed with a grunt before tearing away, liquid gold staining his teeth. A roar filled the cave as Aaron staggered back, his tail swishing across the floor as his wings opened wide. Flames spilled from every cavity – his mouth, his eyes, his ears – making the cave a burning furnace. Aaron scratched his chest with his claws, tearing open his hide, but it healed almost instantly. He fell to the ground, his wings stretched across the floor of the cave and his head in the dust as he lay prostrate at Drægón’s feet.
“Master,” he said hoarsely. Drægón watched curiously as the flames slowly subsided. “I give you my fealty,” he gasped.
Drægón motioned with his claw, and Aaron rose unsteadily to his feet, his eyes still burning with flames as he stared at Drægón. He took a shuddering breath as the flames began to subside.
“Your power – I’ve never felt anything like it. It burned me – painfully! Why?”
“I’m your salvation.”
“My salvation?” Aaron’s eyes widened. “Your blood, it lifts the curse, doesn’t it? That’s why I feel so different. You’re our redemption.”
Drægón cocked his head, breathing in Aaron’s understanding. He felt neither pride nor arrogance at what he was, nor did he question his awareness of this fact. The knowledge was instilled in him, part of who he was, and needed no further explanation.
“We need to gather the clan,” Aaron said. “I will send out word that we will meet in five days. But first, you must see y
our family.”
“Family?”
“Yes. They can be the first to give you fealty.”
“No family.”
“You don’t wish to see your family?”
Drægón frowned, then tapped Aaron on the chest. “Family.”
“Yes, I am your family. But there are others.”
Drægón sighed. He knew Aaron believed he had some existence before, but it was no longer. Aaron launched himself from the cave and Drægón lay down and tucked his head beneath his wing to wait.
Aaron returned when the sun was starting to sink. Drægón did not need to look out of the cave to see that he was followed by three dragons. What bothered him, though, were the humans that accompanied them. The dragons landed beyond the entrance to his cave and he watched as the first entered cautiously. She was smaller than Aaron, and her golden scales were a lighter shade than his. She looked around the cave for a moment, her gaze lingering on a depression on the floor that had been dug by some previous inhabitant, before turning to him. Directly behind her stood a second dragon, as black as pitch. They both stared at him for a moment, and he could smell their anticipation, mingled with anxiety.
“Come,” he ordered. The first dragon approached, the strain around her eyes announcing her tension.
“Do you know me?” she asked.
He stared at her in astonishment. He had never seen this dragon before. “You give fealty?” he asked.
She glanced at the black dragon, then slowly tipped her head to the side, offering her neck. Drægón bit down, drawing her blood into his mouth. It was sweet, and not unfamiliar, and he drew another mouthful, savoring the taste. It fed his power. He pulled away and tipped his own head for her to taste his blood. He felt the slight sting of her teeth before she drew his life source into her mouth. He sensed the moment she swallowed and his power began to course through her, and she yanked away with a mighty roar before falling to the ground. She writhed for a moment, then slowly grew still.
“Drægón,” she whispered. Drægón could feel their bond tightening and knew that it would only take the slightest tug for her to obey his will. She lay there for a moment as the black dragon dropped down beside her.
“Lydia,” he said softly.
She stared at Drægón as she drew herself up from the ground. “I pledge my life to you, mighty Master,” she said softly before stepping back, her head bowed in submission. The black dragon watched her for a moment, then he too stepped forward, offering his neck. As Drægón drew the black dragon’s blood into his mouth, he again had a sense of familiarity, but there was something else as well – a taste he couldn’t quite identify that seemed out of place for a dragon. He pulled back to stare into the dragon’s eyes, hoping to recognize what he had tasted, but it eluded him. The black dragon met his gaze unblinkingly, and Drægón had the sense that he had looked into these eyes before. He tipped his head and offered his neck, and the black dragon sank his teeth in; like the others, he fell prostrate at Drægón’s feet.
“My son. My life is yours.” He stared at Drægón as he rose, his scent a mingling of awe and pride that made Drægón narrow his eyes in contemplation. Who was this dragon that looked at him with such familiarity?
“We love you, son,” Lydia said, before turning on her tail and fleeing from the cave, the black dragon following at a slower pace.
“Who they?” Drægón asked as Aaron stepped into the cave.
“Your parents.”
“Parents?” Drægón frowned. “No parents. Born from your flames.”
“That was your second birth. Your first birth sprung from their union.”
“Black dragon, not same.”
“Lleland was born of two human parents.”
Drægón frowned. “Not …” Words seemed more difficult to access, and he finally gave up the attempt to put his thoughts into words.
“Not possible?” Aaron prompted. “Not usually. But Lleland is unlike any other dragon. And he gave life to you.”
The third dragon entered the cave, gold like Aaron. He wore a cocky smile, and Drægón frowned.
“You’re looking good,” he said. Drægón glanced at Aaron, confused. What did looking good mean?
“I think Zach’s referring to the fact that you’re alive,” Aaron said.
“Yes?” Of course he was alive. The conversation was confusing and Drægón wanted it to be over. Without waiting for the dragon to expose his neck, he sank his teeth into the flesh and pulled. Again the power fed his own, and he closed his eyes as his thoughts washed away. When he offered his neck, he was not surprised when the dragon fell to the floor and, with all trace of cockiness gone, offered his life to his Master. He rose with a look of astonishment, and without another word, left the cave as Aaron stepped forward.
“I have two humans who wish to be presented to you,” he said.
“Humans?” Drægón growled. “No.”
“They meant something to you once.”
Without waiting for a response, Aaron stepped from the cave, returning a moment later followed by a human male. Drægón frowned. He could smell his blood on the human, but that was impossible. He dropped his head and looked at the man standing before him.
“Xav –”
Drægón growled.
“Drægón, I have submitted myself to you once before, and I wish to do so again.”
“Why?”
“We are of the same blood.”
Drægón glanced at Aaron – the man was clearly delusional. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the words to express this, then shook his head when they eluded him.
“He speaks the truth, Drægón,” Aaron said.
“No. Human.”
Aaron stepped closer and Drægón growled once again. “Stop.”
Aaron paused, flames leaping into his eyes. Drægón watched him curiously, and after a moment Aaron stepped back.
“As you wish, Master.”
From the corner of his eye he saw the man standing before him send a narrowed look towards Aaron, and Drægón turned his attention back to him. “You want” – he searched for the words – “serve Drægón?”
“I do.”
“You be mine.”
The man shot Aaron another look and swallowed. “Yes.”
Drægón considered for a moment. It might be amusing to have a human slave. He nodded and reached for the man’s arm. The skin was smooth, he noticed, and when he scored his talon down it, it seemed very fragile. Leaning forward, he ran his hot tongue over the blood, licking it away. He sat back and considered the taste. It reminded him of the black dragon’s blood. He motioned with his head towards Aaron, who stepped forward with a knife which he raised and plunged into Drægón’s hide. It felt like little more than an irritation, and he watched as his golden blood spilled from the wound.
Aaron pressed a cup against it, catching the precious drops, then turned to the human. “Are you sure?” he asked.
Without waiting for the man’s response, Drægón grabbed the cup and thrust it towards him. His blood would not be wasted now.
The man stared at the golden liquid, his eyes wide, before tipping back his head and draining it. The cup tumbled to the ground as the man fell to the floor, gasping as he writhed, rolling from side to side and clenching his stomach. He fell onto his back, groaning as his muscles bunched and tensed. Like a puppet on a string he suddenly flung his arms open wide as though they had been yanked, then rolled onto his side in a fetal position. Aaron dropped down beside him. “Robin, are you all right?”
The man was silent for a moment, then gasped out a single word. “Yes.”
“Leave him,” Drægón commanded. Aaron stepped away, and slowly the man – Robin – raised himself to his knees. “On your face, slave,” Drægón said.
Robin lifted his head and met his gaze. His limbs were trembling, and for a moment he began to lower himself, placing his hands on the ground, before yanking them back. “No,” he gasped.
“Now,”
Drægón growled. He prodded the bond he felt with the man. Sweat began to pour down the man’s forehead as he stiffened his muscles.
“No,” he whispered.
Drægón dropped the bond, and Robin fell back on his knees, trembling, then slowly rose to his feet.
“You tried that once before, cousin,” he rasped. “It didn’t work then, and it won’t work now.”
A reluctant smile tugged at Drægón’s mouth; he could not help but feel admiration for this puny creature. “Go,” he ordered, and the man walked out of the cave.
“I have one more human,” Aaron said. “She is someone who loves you dearly.”
Drægón sighed. He was tired of humans, but Aaron had already left the cave. He returned a moment later with a woman. She smiled, and without any hesitation approached Drægón and stretched out her hand. “You look even more beautiful than before,” she said.
Drægón glanced at Aaron, wondering who the woman could be.
“This is my mate,” Aaron said, “and your grandmother.”
Drægón stared at Aaron blankly. “Human?”
“Yes. Many dragons have human mates.”
Drægón’s eyebrows shot up. If what Aaron said was true – and if he believed the story that he’d had a life before – this human was his ancestor.
Drægón looked back at her. She was stroking his neck, completely at ease. The touch was comforting. “My dear boy,” she crooned, “I have been so worried. When Aaron told us that you were alive, I thought my heart would break.” She stretched her hands to his snout, and he lowered his head to meet her gaze. “But listen to me, Xavier. You must remember who you are.” He frowned. He knew who he was – the most powerful dragon on the earth. “Do not deny your humanity,” she whispered. He pulled away, suddenly wishing the woman gone.
With a sharp look of intuition, Aaron took the woman by the hand and led her from the cave.
“I will return tomorrow,” he said, and then he was gone, taking the humans with him.
The solitude was a relief. Stepping from the cave, Drægón stretched his wings and soared into the air, searching for his meal. He spotted it a few minutes later when a solitary elk stepped from between the trees toward a small lake. Drægón turned in the wind and glided silently towards the massive creature. It didn’t even have time to move before he wrapped his jaws around the creature’s neck and pulled it into the lake, killing it in an instant. Hot blood flowed into his mouth; unlike the dragon blood he’d consumed, this blood was nourishing. He swallowed with pleasure then ripped his teeth through the warm flesh and began to devour the creature.
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