by J. D. Monroe
Marlena lingered at the edge of the rubber mat, taking a tentative step back as Dyadra approached her. The smaller woman’s eyes were narrowed to murderous slits. Velati stepped in front of her. “We all understand that this is simply a training exercise,” he said calmly. “Marlena is going to help us understand her power so we can protect against it.” Dyadra grumbled, but he ignored her. He approached Rihz. The other man was tense, his gaze drifting over Velati’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. No one will be upset with you, least of all me.”
Rihz shook his head. “No, sir. I said I would help you, and I will. I don’t want to be helpless again.”
“I admire that,” Velati said. He clapped Rihz on the shoulder, then gently turned him around. “Start simple. I’ll stay in this form first.” He unlocked the manacles from Marlena’s wrists and handed them off to one of the guards. As she shook her hands out, a faint sheen of light cascaded from her tattooed fingers up her arms and into her wrinkled sleeves. “Remember what I told you.”
“I remember,” she said coolly.
Though he kept his expression neutral and his pace measured, he couldn’t help stealing a look at the guard carrying the gun. Chosen or not, a bullet in her skull would be the end of Marlena Nightrunner.
He stood next to Rihz, who rested one hand on his shoulder. Warm pressure, like a weighted blanket, enveloped him. He instinctively blocked the first tendrils of the psychic connection, but within seconds, relaxed enough to let Rihz connect to him. It felt like a taut thread connected them, with only the faintest tension to indicate its existence.
“Go ahead,” he said to Marlena.
“What should I do?”
“Try to push into my mind like you did before,” he said. “Something simple.”
She hesitated, one hand poised at her side. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said. “You have my permission.”
Her eyes flitted to the guards before she spoke. “Step away from him.” Her tattoos ignited, like embers burning through stained glass. I should get away from him, he thought. As he shifted his weight to move, another pulse of energy from Rihz pushed into him. He froze. His head swam, like he was staring into a bottomless chasm. “Move,” she said, her voice louder this time. It echoed in his head, nearly deafening. “Get away from him.”
He gasped as his muscles contracted, and his left leg actually moved like it was on strings, taking a jerky step forward. Holy fuck, she’s strong.
“That’s enough!” Dyadra shouted. She moved in his peripheral vision, heading for Marlena.
“I’m fine,” Velati said, his voice strained. The dissonance was incredible. He knew Marlena was compelling him, but that didn’t stop the urge to follow her command. Her control was an unpleasant prickling, like his whole body had fallen asleep and was waking with the sensation of pins and needles.
“Rihz! Do something,” Sohan growled. Rihz’s grip tightened. With a surge of heat bursting from his hands, Velati suddenly had control of his muscles again.
Marlena’s gaze shifted over Velati’s shoulder. “Rihz, let go of him,” she said in a gentle voice. The grip on his shoulder loosened, then broke away entirely. Her green eyes brightened. “Now walk towards me.” The hybrid’s face was stricken as he walked away from Velati, hands grasping in vain.
“Sir, I’m sorry, I can’t—”
“Stop,” Velati said sharply. “That’s enough!” Marlena instantly looked away, putting her hands up in a sign of surrender. Two of the guards approached, leveling their spears in her direction. He turned to Rihz. “Are you all right?”
“That’s never happened to me,” Rihz said, pressing his hands to his temples. Sweat trickled from his brow. “I’ve never had someone in my head like that.”
Marlena’s hands were still raised as she said, “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted me to demonstrate my power.”
“It’s all right. I wasn’t clear to limit your focus to me.” He gestured for the guards to lower their weapons. “I’m fine. She did what I asked.” He lowered his voice. “Be honest. How hard were you trying?”
She pursed her lips. “Honestly? Not very hard.” He tried not to let his surprise show on his face. “Was it helpful?”
“Very helpful,” he said. And fucking terrifying.
A shrill electronic ring broke through the tension. Sohan fumbled his phone out of his pocket and answered it. “Shadowbane. Fuck, hold on. No signal down here. I’ll be out in a second,” he said. He gestured to Velati. “I have to take this. Don’t get your balls kicked in.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said. He looked back at Rihz. “You up for a little more?” The hybrid man nodded and straightened up, his jaw set as he grabbed Velati’s shoulder, digging in painfully this time. “Hit me with your best, Marlena.”
Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
“Stop if someone says to stop,” Velati said. “But yes.”
“Okay. You heard him. Please don’t kill me,” she said, glancing at the guards. His heart thumped in anticipation. Would she seize the opportunity to take him out? Surely she wasn’t that stupid. The tattoos on her arms flared bright red, leaving burning streaks across his vision. “Go to sleep, Velati.”
Her voice was deafening, reverberating inside his head, vibrating in his bones. The invisible thread connecting him to Rihz snapped, with a palpable sting at the base of his neck. Then all he saw was Marlena’s eyes, drawing him in until he was drowning in blinding white light. The white enveloped him, fading into hazy gray, darkening to deep black silence.
Distant voices murmured, at the edge of his hearing. A gentle pat on his cheek stirred him, and he opened his heavy eyes to see Dyadra’s pale blue eyes wide with fear. Her dark hair hung around her face, tickling at his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He was flat on his back, with the Marashti healer holding his wrist. The warmth of her energy pulsed through his chest. “I think so. What happened?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Your experiment. I don’t know if it was a failure or a success.” Dyadra helped him up. His head felt like it was full of concrete. Across the room, Marlena sat on a bench surrounded by the Palace Guard. Her fearful expression eased slightly as she caught his eye. Her shoulders slumped.
Rihz hurried toward him. “Sir, I’m sorry, it was like she wrapped you up in a cocoon.”
He shook his head and patted Rihz’s shoulder. His limbs were heavy and stiff. “I’m fine. This is why we’re doing this. Why don’t we—”
“Training is over,” Sohan blurted as he walked back into the training room. “Get her back to her cell. You two are with me. We’ve got trouble.”
The urgency in his voice cut through the stupor, snapping him back into focus. “What is it?” Velati asked.
“One of the Gates is under attack,” he said. His gaze flitted to Marlena. “By the Chosen.”
“I could come and help you,” Marlena said.
“Absolutely not,” Dyadra snapped.
Despite the two guards blocking her path, she rose on her toes, eyes pleading with Velati from across the room. “I could help. If you encounter people like me, I can protect you.” She frowned at Rihz. “I know you were trying, but you’re not ready yet.”
Rihz scowled. “I’ll be fine.”
“Bring her,” Velati said. He cut off Dyadra’s rising protest. If the Chosen had someone else like Marlena, all of them would be helpless. He just hoped his intuition wasn’t going to get them all killed.
Marlena’s offer to help Velati had tumbled from her lips before she realized what she was saying. Caught in the moment, with the adrenaline still pumping in her veins, it made sense. She had expected everyone to protest, like the petite woman had. She certainly hadn’t expected Velati to agree.
When he hit the ground, she knew she was in trouble. While she wasn’t trying to really hurt him, she was hungry for a morsel of retribution for being chained in a tiny cell for days. It was satisfying to see his eyes r
oll back in his head, legs collapsing under him from the mere sound of her voice. I’m in charge now, she thought as he fell. But the brief pleasure of vindication shattered when she saw the gun pointed at her. Surrounded by tense guards, she’d barely breathed until he woke up.
The next hour passed in a blur. A female guard dragged her to a locker room for a much-needed shower and a change of clothes. She was still trying to squeeze the water out of her hair when the woman secured the manacles around her wrists again, dampening her power. But instead of taking her back to the claustrophobic darkness of the dungeon, they walked her outside to a convoy of vehicles. Dozens of personnel in dark clothing buzzed around the convoy, loading equipment and shouting orders.
Marlena drew a deep breath, inhaling the humid evening air. God, it was good to be outside, breathing the scent of greenery and rich earth instead of the stagnant subterranean air. Suspicious looks and hushed whispers greeted her as she followed the female guard.
A small black sedan idled at the back of the convoy. Velati sat on the edge of the driver’s seat, long legs stretched out as he typed into his phone. He looked her over. “Back seat.”
“Sir, are you sure?” the guard asked. “Would you like one of us to ride with you?”
“I’m sure. She’s not going to hurt me.” He met her eyes. “Are you?”
His gaze was a prison, icy and impenetrable. “No,” she murmured.
The guard opened the door, then pushed lightly against her shoulder. Marlena sank into the car, which was spotless. Either he was a neat freak, or this was a company car. The door closed, shutting her in with him. Cold air rushed around her as he suddenly turned in his seat.
“I want to trust you,” he said. “But I don’t yet. This is your chance to prove yourself.”
“I will,” she said quietly.
His blue eyes skimmed over her. “And don’t try any bullshit on the road. If you try to jump me, we both go down in a fiery collision, and I think my odds of survival are still slightly better.”
“I won’t.”
He gestured with his thumb. “Move over so I can see you.”
She didn’t argue, just scooted to the opposite side of the car. After days of sitting on a hard bench, the upholstered back seat felt like a throne. Ahead of them, engines roared to life amid the thumps of car doors closing.
“Can you tell me where we’re going?”
“Our allies in the Stormflight are under attack in Ascavar. I don’t know all the details yet, but there are some important people pinned down, and we need to get them through the Gate safely. Reports are placing the Chosen and their forces there trying to take control of the Gate.”
Ahead of them, a snaking trail of brake lights lit up as the convoy began moving. She craned her neck to see the beautiful stone exterior of Skyward Rest rolling by. “So where are we actually going? Where’s the Gate?” She’d never seen one, even though rumor had it there was a secret Gate in Haven.
“Atlanta,” he said. “A little over three hours once we get out of the mountains.”
“Why don’t you all just fly there? Why waste time driving?”
He chuckled. “I wish we could. Too many of us and not enough wind dragons,” he said. “Last thing we need is to be on the evening news.”
She should have been pleased that she’d earned enough of his trust for this. Being outside of the cell, and now outside the secluded mountain compound, her chances of escape were exponentially increased. But her mind was sheared in two. She couldn’t help calculating her next move, how she could slip away from him in the chaos and call for help. Yet even with escape plans running through her head, she found herself eager to please him, to earn his trust. She wanted him to be wrong about the Chosen, but she desperately needed him to be right about her.
“I guess you’re used to mountains,” he said. “You’re from Colorado?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, watching the blur of trees lining the curving mountain roads. “Lived there most of my life. Where do you live?”
“I lived in Ascavar for…what, a hundred years? And change, I guess. I lose track,” he said. “I came here with the Exiles and I’ve been here for over a century. I live in Portland now. Oregon, not Maine.”
“How old are you?”
“Uh…two hundred and sixty-eight. Sixty-seven,” he said. “I forget. Once you hit a hundred, you lose track.” His voice was calm, almost pleasant, like they were new acquaintances getting to know each other.
“That’s sort of insane,” she said.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, revealing a gleam of mirth in his eyes. “Dragons age well.”
“Apparently so.” Her cheeks flushed. She wasn’t flirting, but he was incredibly attractive for being nearly three centuries old.
“So did you grow up hating dragons? Or did that come later?”
“I didn’t—I mean…” she sighed. “My mother is Kadirai, but she wouldn’t let me be a part of anything other than letting me learn her language. She read some baby book that said being bilingual was good for my brain, even though she was the only dragon I ever met until I got to college. And I don’t hate dragons. I hate when they use their power to hurt innocent people.”
He laughed, a bitter, harsh sound. “Do you hear yourself?”
“We’re helping people. Big picture,” she said. So much for friendly conversation.
“Do you actually believe that?”
I did. She stared out the window in silence for a while. “Do you really trust me to protect you?”
“Not entirely,” he said. “I want you to prove me wrong, though. And I’m banking on the fact that I can throw you off my back before you can get your claws in me.”
“Fair enough,” she said.
His phone rang, and he quickly answered it. “Yeah. Go ahead.”
The next several hours passed with Velati talking quietly on the phone, planning a strategy and division of forces as they arrived. He spoke Kadirai, though it was occasionally broken with English words like interstate and Wi-Fi.
Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, it was quite exciting that she would finally get to see Ascavar. Her excitement was short-lived as they drove down a narrow private drive, and she realized that stepping through that Gate was a one way trip for her. Even if she made it back to this world, she wasn’t coming back the same way she left. At some point she had to make a choice.
Until now, she could tell herself she was playing a long game with Velati. Fighting as his ally would change things. Was she willing to fight her own people to sell the story? Kill them? And if she did, was that the point of no return? Even worse was the notion that he might be right about everything. She might walk through the Gate and into confirmation that she’d devoted her life to the wrong cause. That was much scarier than staring down an angry dragon.
The red-orange haze of sunset blazed across the sky as they pulled up to a massive house that put the Forest House to shame. Seated on acres of rolling hills and enveloped by forest, the three-story house was enclosed by a tall brick wall. Wrought iron gates opened automatically for them, and the convoy parked in neat lines along a smooth-paved driveway.
She tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t open. “Child locks,” he said. He grabbed a bag from the passenger seat, slung it over his shoulder, and got out to open her door. When she stood up, he grasped her forearm, with just enough force to remind her he was in control. His touch was painfully cold. “Remember what I said. I’m trusting you.”
“I remember,” she said quietly. As soon as she stepped into the balmy evening air, she was bombarded with the scent of Kadirai magic. And somewhere in the midst, the earthy hint of her own power. She inhaled deeply, trying to detect the source. Was another of the Aesdar here, or was it someone who’d had a brush with one?
“Things will move fast from here on out,” he said. “I’ll help you get through the Gate. On the other side, I’ll shift, and you’ll get on my back. Based on what we know right now, y
ou and I will be focusing fire on the white dragon there.”
Her eyes widened. “The white dragons are attacking?”
He nodded. “That’s the report. Our hybrids aren’t ready to face that.” He shrugged off his light black jacket and handed it to her. “Put that on. The less questions about you, the better.” She put it on, breathing in his smoky scent. His cool fingers brushed against her throat as he flipped the collar up. A shiver broke across her skin, leaving goosebumps in the wake of the fleeting touch. Get it together, she thought.
Velati rested his hand at the small of her back as they walked through the heavy wooden doors. Inside was a flurry of activity and a cacophony of voices. Dozens of people hurried around the open area on the ground floor, some strapping on armor or securing weapons, while others limped to the nearest open space and crumpled to the wooden floor. The smell of sweat and blood permeated the air.
Ahead of her were several familiar figures, including Dyadra and Sohan, who’d watched her test her power on Velati. In all the shouting after Velati’s unplanned nap, she’d caught their names, filing them away for reference. Both had visible tattoos that resembled Velati’s; it wasn’t a huge leap to guess that they were also Arik’tazhan.
A woman in a pristine green uniform rushed toward them and bowed deeply. “Kordari,” she said reverently. “I had no idea you would bring such forces to our aid. We are grateful. I am Captain Vicha, and this is my Gate. For now, at least.”
“It’s our honor,” Sohan replied. “Get us to the Gate and talk us through what we’re doing.”
Murmurs rose around them. She heard whispers of Arik’tazhan. Skymother bless us. Two soldiers in dark leather armor rose from the floor, supporting each other as they bowed. Velati nodded to each of them. She was glad for the jacket to cover her arms, as they had attracted an audience on their processional through the house.