Dragon Rider

by Kay Berrisford

  The heat blistering against Ben's arms grew unbearable. Then, just as he feared they'd crash straight into the hellfire, the flames ceased and the heat subsided. Cully burped loudly and performed another jerky turn, wings flexing awkwardly but somehow staying level.

  Ben peeped back at Lyle, who remained draped on his tummy over Cully's back. He'd found the wherewithal to lift his head to see what'd happened, and gawped back at Ben through the matted mess of his hair. He looked as stunned as Ben felt.

  Then it struck Ben.

  Lyle's sister had just incinerated their long-lost mother.

  "Don't tell her," mouthed Lyle. "Just don't."

  Chapter Fourteen

  After picking up Bella, Cully landed up a secluded creek, on the banks of a brook rushing out toward the sea. Ben jumped down and then turned to help Lyle, who collapsed onto the stony ground before Ben could catch him. Bella edged away, twisting her fins and clearly as nervous as Ben was about what would happen next.

  "I need to find a healer," said Cully, in her deep, dragon's voice. "The Wise Mas sometimes take shelter in these forests. I'm going to see if—"

  "I'm fine," said Lyle. He pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning on one palm and rubbing his forehead with the other. "It's nothing that a swim won't fix. Just give me a minute."

  Ben exchanged anxious glances with Cully, startled to find the mermaid rather than the dragon meeting his eye. When he looked back at Lyle, Lyle's bedraggled t-shirt had been covered by a long, warm coat, which draped around his shoulders, some loose-fitting trousers, and a scarf around his injured neck. Cully's magic again, little doubt of it, but Lyle grunted angrily. Ben crouched down and rubbed Lyle's back in soothing circles.

  "Isn't this entertaining," drawled Lyle. "Bella, I'd like to introduce Clewell's spectacular heir—my sister; and the Dragon Rider—my fiancé. We lost the sword, though, so no million pound real estate this week, I'm afraid. Maybe Cully will pop back in and fetch it for you, eh?"

  "I'm so sorry," said Bella, forlorn. "I never meant for it to happen this way. I honestly thought the only hero we needed was… you. But this doesn't mean you can't shift into a dragon too, Lyle. Clewell could have many great heirs."

  "I think not." Lyle's joyless snigger declined into a weak cough.

  "You need to take it easy," said Ben, feeling desperately inadequate.

  "It's nothing I can't handle," said Lyle, after gathering his breath. "It's only the same as when I used too much magic back in Shanty Wood, but I'm near the sea now. I'll heal myself soon, no problem."

  "I'm afraid it is a problem," said Cully. "You've got to tell him, Ben. Tell him what I told you. This isn't normal."

  "What the hell do you know about anything?" Lyle jutted his chin up and impaled her with his fury, which once again revived him when he'd been otherwise limp as a ragdoll. Ben caught his breath and held it.

  Was Lyle going to tell Cully what she'd just done? That she'd annihilated their mother? Ben had wondered if Lyle had asked him to keep quiet about Clem because Lyle didn't want Cully to know, or because he wanted to break the news himself; or, most likely, given Lyle's current temper, to hurl the horrible truth in Cully's face.

  Lyle's upper lip quivered as he edged it into a snarl, and Ben braced himself for Lyle to let rip. Instead, Lyle sagged abruptly back onto his elbows, and Ben had to grab him to prevent him flopping down completely.

  Lyle buried his face in Ben's shoulder, and Cully instantly seized the upper hand. "This isn't right for a merman in his prime," she said. "Either you're powerful enough to draw magic or you're not. Either way, it's not supposed to weaken you like this. You're not well, Lyle, and whatever those monsters have done to you, it's made it worse. Ben—tell him! You promised you would and now you have to."

  Ben turned away, hugging Lyle against his chest.

  They'd landed in the kind of spot that on a blissful summer's day, Ben would've been thrilled to find. Right now, under a November dawn, he couldn't imagine a gloomier place on earth. The trees were naked corpses, twisted to the prevailing wind, the stream a mass of broiling foam rushing toward the oblivion of the seas. If Cully was right, and he'd a horrible feeling she was, all the happiness in his world might die on this godforsaken strip of gravel.

  However deservedly furious Lyle was with his sister, it made no difference to the stark truth. Right now, he'd be better off at her side than at Ben's.

  Cully began to pace. Ben urged Lyle to lift his face, cupping his cheek. It hurt yet also helped a little that Lyle sullenly refused to look at Ben.

  "I'm sorry, Lyle, but our life together isn't healthy for you. You weren't destined to work a thirty-seven-hour week in an ice-cream parlour, particularly after everything you've been through. Cully thinks—"

  "Thinks? Did she think before she dumped me? Before she neglected to tell me she could turn into a dragon… or… before she killed!" Straightening within the circle of Ben's arms, Lyle glared past Ben to where his sister had come to a pause. "You just… torched them without a thought, Cully. I can't believe you did that."

  "I'm truly sorry I've upset you." Cully heaved an understated shrug, although her anguish seemed real enough. "I've made some shitty decisions, but I don't regret attacking those bastards."

  "She's right," Bella chipped in quietly. "Somebody had to stop them. By my reckoning, they'd tortured and murdered dozens of merfolk, many of them total innocents."

  Lyle opened his mouth as if to argue, but instead caught his lower lip in his teeth and flopped back against Ben. Ben brushed a kiss against his temple. He couldn't even start to imagine what Lyle was going through right now, and wondered if he should speak in Lyle's stead—inform Cully that one of those "bastards" had been their mother. He decided against it, only because Lyle had asked him not to.

  "I was livid about what they'd done to you," continued Cully, pacing again. "I know I've not always been there for you, but I honestly care. I care about you as much as I've ever cared about anyone, I guess."

  She paused, shoulders hunching at an awkward angle; just like Lyle, she was worrying her lip and holding the most difficult disclosures back. Ben wondered if she would ever find the guts to tell Lyle the real truth—that he was the reason she'd locked her heart away for an entire century. That she'd bled for him so hard she couldn't stand to bleed anymore.

  That she loved him.

  Given that Lyle was her brother, possibly not. Families were so damned complicated.

  "Y-you guess you care?" stammered Lyle, snatching Ben back to the present. "That's nice for you, my dearest sister." He pressed a hand on Ben's shoulder and began to lever himself up, with Ben scrambling to support him. "Help me down the sea, please."

  They'd scarce gone a few paces, when Lyle doubled over, clutching his stomach.

  "Oh God, I'm so sorry." Ben spooned himself bodily about Lyle, holding him on his feet and offering what solace he could.

  It took a few seconds for Lyle to find his voice. When he did, it hitched on a frustrated sob. "Since they put that thing on me… when I try and draw magic, it's like someone's twisting a knife in my gut. I can just about do it, but—"

  "This is very, very bad," said Cully, holding Lyle up from the other side. "The weakening effects were awful enough, but it shouldn't hurt! I'm going to find one of the Wise Mas at once. It's perfectly possible for me to share my magic with you, and they'll know—"

  "Don't!" Lyle's tone was shaky but irrefutable, and he elbowed her away. "If you care for me as you claim, I want just one thing from you. Take us home. And then please, I beg of you, Cully—never come near me again."

  Cully bristled as if readying to counter him, then she bowed her head, deflated, her fins trailing like a cloak. If he'd not been so frantic about Lyle, Ben might've spared a pang of sorrow for her.

  "If that's what you wish," she said.

  *~*~*

  Cully took them the beach nearest to the hotel where Ben's family were staying. None of the walkers on the seafront
promenade so much as twitched as the dragon landed at the tide mark in broad daylight, proving her point about invisibility—and the sheer majesty of her powers.

  Ben and Lyle alighted from her back beside a breakwater, which sheltered them as they emerged from the folds of Cully's magic. Lyle turned away, leaning against a wooden strut but with his arms folded defiantly across his chest. Cully took off, with Bella clinging morosely about her neck, and disappeared behind a threatening grey cloud.

  Ben wished Lyle would call her back, offer some form of reconciliation. He understood why Lyle didn't. He wondered if Cully would ever fathom why she'd upset Lyle so much that night, who she'd reduced to ashes without a thought.

  Either way, Cully's departure solved little.

  Ben could play the strong and steady lover all he liked, but he wasn't what Lyle needed. The life they'd both yearned for was, at best, unhelpful to Lyle, at worst, killing him. And Lyle had just banished the all-conquering sister who'd set her will to helping him, however odd her tactics seemed.

  Ben looked beyond the promenade to the whitewashed Edwardian building where his family were waiting, and puffed out his cheeks wearily. His sleepless night was catching up with him.

  "I'll pop up and say hi to them all in a minute," said Ben. "Then I'll call a cab and we'll go straight back to the flat. I'll tell everyone you're ill and cancel the meal." Which was telling the truth, though Ben wished it were a convenient lie. "If you're feeling better, you can meet them tomorrow when we all head down to Highsands Castle."

  "What if I'm not feeling better?" Lyle plonked himself on the shingle and drew his knees to his chin. "If I can't summon any magic without it ripping my guts out, I can't shapeshift. I can't conceal my fins. I don't know when I'll be able to do that again, if ever."

  "We'll find a way, love, it doesn't matter."

  "You know it does!" Lyle cackled bitterly. "It looks like I'm going to be getting married in a dirty-old-man raincoat after all."

  After removing his crash helmet, Ben sat down beside Lyle and slid an arm around him. He let out a long, shuddering sigh. Ben had ridden a dragon down the English coast; he'd found a golden sword and fended off enemies—with a little help from Lyle, of course. Breaking the news about Lyle's merman identity to Alison and his parents didn't solve everything, but the idea that doing so was scary now seemed pitiful.

  "You don't have to do that," said Ben, feeling distant from the man who'd fretted over this issue in the changing cubical earlier that week. "I'll tell my family about you right now, and I'll make them understand."

  "What about the registrar at the wedding?" said Lyle, "what about my job? I can't serve ice-cream with fins flailing everywhere, and my artwork won't pay my share of the rent. And when I try to draw in magic… and it hurts that much… it… scares me. Even the Goddess Moon has shut me out."

  Lyle looked crestfallen, defeated. Ben, though heartbroken by Lyle's suffering, remained calm. He refilled his lungs with salty sea breeze, which invigorated him further. "We'll find a way," he repeated. "If you can't live in my world, then I'll come live in yours."

  Yes, he'd do it. It seemed easier now he'd visited the realm of the merfolk a couple of times and started to comprehend how it worked. It wouldn't be a picnic, squatting in a sea cave or whatever he'd have to do, but he'd camped out in a wood then uprooted his life for Lyle before. He'd give up everything—his home, his security, and even his family—for Lyle.

  "We live there? I'd rather die!" Lyle jerked to face Ben, furious tears glistening in his eyes. "I never planned on going back to my world—or whatever you want to call it—but it keeps sucking me back, and it'll break me. I'll give in to it next time. Don't you understand?"

  "I'm not sure I do," confessed Ben, stunned. Granted, Lyle's mother's final crime hadn't helped, but he figured it was the human world that was breaking Lyle more than anything right now.

  "Do you remember the deal Clem offered me?"

  Ben nodded. The awful happenings in that hellhole would be inscribed in his memories forever.

  "It wasn't a great offer," said Lyle, "but it could've been worse. She said they'd remove the collar before it killed me, if I agreed to join them. Then she was going to teach me to make the most of the magic I had left. To use spells and incantations, all the stuff about magic that Cully and I were never told so I could become strong again. She even claimed I might be able to dragon shift… somehow." Lyle fixed on the pebbles and flicked one idly. "I said yes."

  "Of course you did," said Ben. "She was torturing you."

  "I wanted it anyway," murmured Lyle. "You have to understand that I never believed you would find me, and… I should've been mourning my loss of you, but all I could think about was vengeance. Revenge on Cully for luring me back… on my mother… on poor little Bella, even… whomever I could get hold of once I'd gleaned the faintest control of my power. I wanted that knowledge so badly. Then you came for me."

  "And the deal was off, you said so," said Ben, trying not to chafe at the matter Lyle claimed he'd all but forgotten him. Pain made folk do strange things, and for Lyle, the lust for revenge was an old and understandable habit.

  "Even when you appeared," said Lyle, "I wavered, and I hate myself for it. I hate that world and what it makes me—it's already turned me into a killer, my sister too. If I can't live in your world with you, then I'd rather just head up onto Beachy Head and end it now!"

  "You don't mean that," said Ben, though with Lyle so obviously hurting, it was unfair to dismiss his claim as overdramatic. Ben tried to remain placid, reassuring, though his mind scrabbled relentlessly and turned up no practical answer.

  He wanted to promise everything would be okay, but Ben had made empty promises when he'd no good plan before, back in Shanty Wood. He couldn't lie to Lyle, not anymore.

  "We'll find a way," he repeated.

  "How, Ben?" Lyle's cry was ragged, desolate. "How?"

  "I… uh…"

  The crash of a breaking wave, not a stone's throw away, interrupted Ben's feeble stammering. The undertow roared, triggering an odd sensation deep in his churning belly, similar to how it'd been with the golden sword in his hand. It was fizzing and pleasant. Reminiscent of making love with Lyle.

  Ben started. Now that was interesting.

  "What is it?" demanded Lyle.

  "I'm honestly not sure, but…"

  With his thumb, Ben brushed the rigid line of Lyle's jaw, kindling a sensation akin to an electric spark.

  Lyle met Ben's gaze, startled. "How did you do that? You feel… like you've got magic in you."

  "Whatever it is, it came from the sea." Was it the aftereffects of touching the sword? Ben didn't know, and he didn't care. A strange force had entered into him, and instinct whispered what he needed to do with it. He slid his palm to cup Lyle's cheek, drawing Lyle near. "Want to share?"

  Ben claimed Lyle in a deep, desperate kiss, which started sweet and slow then built and built. Magic prickled through Ben's veins, firing and fusing them each place they touched. Ben did his best to be gentle, mindful of Lyle's fragile state and the wounds about his throat. The answering brush of Lyle's lips proved tentative at first, but then he sucked Ben's tongue deep, as if feeding on the energy that zinged from Ben's core. Soon fire met fire, as Lyle returned Ben's attention with a sudden rise in fervour, fins twitching then stiffening then binding Ben tight.

  Ben's heart and delicate hopes leaped. If he could bring merfolk magic into the human realm, then maybe they could find a way forward…

  Ben had Lyle pinned flat to the stones, and all but humped the knee Lyle had thrust up between his legs, when he reluctantly broke away. If he ravished Lyle's mouth any longer, he was going to have to take the rest of him. They were sheltered by the breakwater, but still far to near to the promenade. He hadn't gone quite crazy enough to take such a risk in daytime.

  "I can't believe this," panted Lyle, his kiss-reddened lips hovering tantalizingly close to Ben's. "It felt like I was drawing magic from the sea
, but it came from you. And it didn't feel like a dagger in the gut. It was… amazing."

  "Felt pretty bloody amazing from this side too," said Ben, rolling off Lyle and taking a moment to gather himself. "Do you think—"

  "The magic came from Clewell's sword," said Lyle, staring up at the churning dark clouds. "You drew power from it, and now the sea is teaching you how to access it. You are the Dragon Rider."

  "I'm not sure," conceded Ben, although he found the idea of being the Dragon Rider appealed more than previously. If it helped Lyle, he'd embrace that part of the role with ardour, if nothing else. "I do wish we hadn't lost the sword now. You're really feeling better?"

  Lyle sat up and stretched his arms and fins, arching in a sexy fashion that did little to diminish Ben's lust. "I don't think I could conceal my fins yet, but I feel a lot stronger and I've healed the scars on my neck." He swished back the scarf to reveal creamy pure skin, which Ben yearned to nuzzle. "If we've seriously just discovered you can kiss me better, I'll feel fantastic after a good f—"

  "Sorry, not here." Ben wrinkled his nose, his regret as profound as his aching desire. Lovemaking, magical or otherwise, would be best in their safe, warm bed.

  He also didn't want to raise Lyle's expectations too far. He had no idea if what they'd just experienced would happen again, or if its effect was potent enough to restore Lyle's powers in any meaningful way. Besides, he hadn't really drawn on the sea, as Lyle described it happening to merfolk. Instead, the sea had triggered some power in Ben, without much effort on Ben's part. It still seemed more likely that his finding the sword was a mistake and they'd got lucky with these particular consequences.

  His reality check sinking in, Ben rose, smoothing down his creased clothes. "I better go check in with my family. Are you okay waiting here a few minutes?"

  "I'm fine." Lyle settled against the breakwater, also less buoyed than moments before.