by Lori Dillon
She smiled, her teeth a brilliant white in her blackened face. "I'm glad to see you, too."
Reluctantly, he eased his arms from around her and they joined the others gathering in the inn yard.
"Did they all get out?" Baelin asked Kendale.
"There were no more in the room. The smoke was too thick to go back into the hall to look for more. I pray there were none left behind."
"I pray you are right."
Behind them, others who'd made good their escape from other ways rushed about the yard, carrying buckets of water to throw on the flames. It was a futile effort to save the inn now. The flames raged, eating at the dried thatch with alarming speed. The roof was almost gone, parts of it already collapsing in on itself.
Through the roar of the flames and the frantic shouts of the people rushing around him, a scream ripped through the night. It was a cry of anguish and despair like no other.
Baelin charged around the side of the inn and found a woman, collapsed on the ground, wailing and clawing at her hair and clothes. As ciders rained down on them, he picked her up and carried her away from the burning wall threatening to collapse on top of them.
Tears streaked ragged trails down the soot covering her face. She coughed and sputtered. She tried to speak. When she was finally able to draw air, she uttered words that chilled Baelin to his bones.
"My children! My children are still in there. Help them!"
Baelin looked at the burning inn, now almost completely engulfed in flames, the fire reaching high up in the air as if to snatch the stars from the sky.
And then he saw them. Two small faces leaning out of a high window the fire had yet to reach, their tiny bodies wedged in the small opening to escape the smoke and heat of the flames. Baelin's gut clenched and he stopped breathing, terrified they would either fall to their deaths or be burned alive before his eyes.
People surrounded him, adding their gasps and wails to those from the distraught mother at his feet. Lady Jill stood at his side, her eyes wide, her hand covering a silent scream.
"Dear God." She clutched at his arm blindly, unable to tear her eyes away from the children. "Baelin, we have to do something."
He could save them. He knew he could. But there was only one way to do it.
As he felt Lady Jill tremble next to him and heard the children's screams on the air, he knew there wasn't any choice. His life for theirs was a small price to pay.
He set Lady Jill away from him and ripped off his cloak, spread his dragon wings and took to the air.
The cries and wails below turned into shrieks and screams, drowned out by the roar of the fire as he rose nearer to the children. Their frightened faces froze when they saw him hovering before them, his wings whipping hot air and cinders about in a frenzied storm. In their terror, they moved back into the room, the smoke swallowing them like a hungry monster.
"Nay!" Baelin shouted. "Do not fear me. I mean you no harm."
He clawed and dug at the window, widening the opening until he could fit his body through. The bright glow of the raging fire at the doorway nearly blinded him, leaving the rest of the smoke-filled room in a choking darkness. More terrified of the beast than the fire, he prayed he hadn't chased the children into the waiting arms of the flames and certain death.
He dropped to his knees, searching with his hands where his eyes could not see. The floorboards snapped and groaned, hot to the touch from the fire burning below. His shoulder hit something large and it shifted along the floor. It was the bed, turned on its side, the straw-filled tick lying nearby. He reached over the frame and touched part of a small body, an arm or leg he could not tell. The child shifted and he grabbed the tiny limb before they could scoot out of reach.
The girl screamed and tried to pull away but he held on tight, not willing to risk her rushing into the hallway. He found the second child near the first. This one did not try to get away, but lay limp and still under his hand. Baelin's heart stopped.
Dear God, let me not be too late.
He gathered them up, ignoring the weak struggles of the girl, and tucked their tiny bodies under each arm. He dove through the window opening, shielding the children from the jagged plaster edges with his body. As soon as he was in the air, he spread his wings. He circled the inn yard once before landing away from the crowd, laying both children gently on the ground.
The people stood frozen, staring at him with wide, terror-filled eyes.
The sobbing mother broke free of the huddled crowd and crawled on her hands and knees, the need to get to her children greater than her fear of him.
The little girl lay on her back, coughing and gagging, drawing in ragged gasps of air. The other child, a boy, lay still. No rise and fall moved within his tiny chest.
The mother cradled the small, lifeless body in her arms. "My son. My son." She glared at Baelin, wild fury replacing the sorrow on her face. "The winged devil killed my son."
"No, he didn't." Lady Jill rushed to the mother and knelt beside her. "He was trying to save them. It still may not be too late. Let me see if I can help."
She reached for the boy and the mother shoved her away, clutching the child's body tightly to her chest. "Begone from me! I saw you, in his company." She sneered at Baelin, before turning her tormented gaze back to Lady Jill. "Whore. Devil's maiden. You are consort of the beast. Do not lay your foul hands upon my child."
Lady Jill reared back as if the woman had struck her. "No, you've got it all wrong."
A man stepped out from the crowd and, without taking his eyes off Baelin, shouted to the people around him. "The beast hides behind the face of a man. A beast that breathes fire."
"Dra…dragon!" one old woman wailed.
The mob turned accusing eyes to Baelin.
"He started the fire," someone in the crowd shouted. "He tried to burn us all!"
"No!" Lady Jill stood and faced them. "He won't hurt you. He was only trying to help."
But they weren't listening to her.
Hushed murmurs among the crowd grew louder and louder until the entire mob was chanting, "Dragon. Dragon."
Then one of the men shouted, "Kill the dragon!"
Some of the men rushed Baelin, surrounding him with pitchforks and sickles, any weapon they could find.
"Nooo!"
He heard Lady Jill's scream, but could no longer see her through the crowd.
His hands twitched, the trained knight ready to draw his sword and fight to defend his lady. Inside, the dragon raged, every instinct screaming to kill.
But he couldn't. These were not highway bandits or an enemy army. These were peaceful, innocent people, frightened of what they did not understand.
But maybe he could use their fear, long enough to get Lady Jill safely away. As the crowd closed in, he spread his wings wide.
"Be still and come no closer, or risk the dragon's wrath!" he roared. Then he opened his mouth and shot a fireball into the air over their heads.
The people fell back and he spotted Kendale pulling Lady Jill away from the fray. He knew a moment of relief, thankful she was out of harm's way. But as the knight tossed her onto his horse and mounted behind her, the look Kendale gave him chilled him to his bones. The truth, when it hit, sliced deep.
Kendale was not saving Lady Jill from the frenzied mob.
He was saving her from Baelin.
In rescuing the children, he'd shown his dragon side to the one man who should have never seen it.
A dragonslayer.
Kendale's cold gaze locked with Baelin's across the inn yard, piercing him with white-hot hatred.
"Until we meet again, dragon."
Then he spurred the horse and galloped off into the night, taking Lady Jill with him.
CHAPTER 24
"But I don't want to be rescued!"
Roderick didn't even look at her as Owen helped him strap the chausses to his legs. "'Tis too late, my lady. You have already been rescued."
"You didn't exactly give me much o
f a choice, did you?"
Jill fumed, pacing around the grassy hill where he'd finally decided to stop after hours of riding. She eyed Owen, the young page working with the efficiency and dedication of duty of someone far beyond his years. While Roderick was kidnapping her last night—which is exactly what he'd done—the boy had been busy in the stable, piling all of their weapons and supplies on his sturdy little pony's back, then catching up with them later in the forest.
Jill hadn't been so lucky. All she had now were the clothes on her back, and that was stretching it since she was technically wearing what amounted to a medieval slip. She hadn't even had time to put shoes on.
She watched as Roderick continued to don full battle armor, as calm as a businessman putting a suit on for work. The thing that worried her was he felt the need to put it on now, as if he anticipated a fierce battle soon to come.
"Why didn't you help him? Baelin was outnumbered back there and you knew it. But no, at the first sign of trouble, you turned tail and ran. What kind of knight are you?"
Roderick's head snapped up and he stalked over to her, a half-strapped shoulder plate dangling down his arm. For a second, she thought he might hit her. He stood so close, she was forced to crook her neck to look at him. It wasn't a pleasant sight, with his nostrils flaring like an angry bull and veins bulging at his temples.
"Do. Not. Ever. Question my honor," he bit out through clenched teeth. "Did you not notice, my lady, the crowd was about to turn on you, too? Or have you not a care for your life?"
"Of course I do." She took a step back, tired of arching her neck and needing a bit more personal space. "But you left him there, to face that angry mob alone. How could you do that? Where was your precious honor then?"
"There is no honor in saving a dragon. Had I the chance, I would have slain him myself."
The breath rushed from Jill's lungs. He might as well have gone ahead and punched her in the stomach, for that was the impact his words left on her.
"Until a few hours ago, you called him friend."
"That thing is no friend of mine. I have spent my whole life destroying creatures such as he."
"How can you talk about him as if he were some monster? You've hunted with him, sparred with him, laughed with him, and never once did he try to hurt you. Or have you forgotten all that?"
"I have not forgotten." His voice sounded distant, tinged with anger and betrayal. "The beast deceived me. 'Tis not unheard of for dragons to be able to bend the minds of men. He bewitched me, as he has bewitched you all along."
"He did no such thing. He has no magical powers. He's a person. A living, breathing, flesh and blood human being, just like you and me. How can you think to kill him?"
His eyes grew hooded as he regarded her. "'Tis simple, my lady. 'Tis what I do."
Jill's breath caught, forming a tight knot in her throat. "Right. You're the mighty dragonslayer."
"And he is a dragon."
"He was once a knight, just like you."
"What he once was matters not. He is an abomination now."
"You don't know the whole story. He didn't choose to be this way. He was cursed, and since then he's been forced to live for centuries being the thing he hates most. I'd like to see you do that and not go completely insane."
Tears pricked like needles in Jill's eyes. Not of sadness or fear, but of anger. Roderick was being such a pig-headed ass. He refused to listen to her, refused to see the truth right in front of him.
"What happened to your knightly code? Isn't loyalty supposed to be a part of that? Until a few hours ago, he was your new best friend. Nothing has changed since then."
"Everything has changed since then." His voice was so low and calm, it brought chills to her skin.
"You're wrong. He's the same man he was yesterday. And he's as good a man as you, if not more so, because of what he's had to live through all these years. If you can't see that, you're just as blind as all those other people back there, living in fear and ignorance." Jill wagged her finger in his face and he leaned back as if she were brandishing a sword. "Let me tell you something. I've spent the last three weeks with him and he's shown me nothing but kindness and respect, many times when I didn't deserve it. In the week you've known him, he's been just as civil and courteous to you. And I'll tell you what—that's a hell of a lot more than you've shown him."
Roderick stared at her for a long moment and she saw something pass behind his eyes. A thought. A memory. A doubt.
Just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a cold determination that frightened her more than any fire-breathing dragon could. This was the look of a cold-blooded killer, a man who could take another's life without fear or regret.
"What are you planning to do?" Jill asked, although she was afraid she already knew.
"Being the possessive creature that he is, the dragon will not let you go so easily. He will come." Roderick glanced up into the violet clouds of the coming dawn, as if expecting Baelin to come swooping down on them at any moment. "And when he does, I shall be waiting."
"And then what?"
"Then I shall slay him."
She glanced at the heavy sword strapped to his waist. "How?"
"'Tis not easy. The dragon is a creature of the devil walking this earth, with their breath of fire and their blood the very elixir of hell. The beast's scales are as a thousand shields, hard and impenetrable. It is nigh unbeatable. There is but one way to kill a dragon and I know it well." Roderick pointed to the center of his chest, over his heart. "There is a spot here, where the scales separate. When my blade finds the mark, the dragon will die."
With sudden clarity, she recalled the sunburst scar on Baelin's chest, the place where he said the witch had exchanged his human heart for a dragon one. If he was stabbed there while in human form, would the dragon die…or the man? The very thought chilled her to the bone.
"You talk about killing him as if you'll be fighting him in dragon form. But what if he comes as he is now, as a man?"
"Man or beast, it matters not to me. Either way, the dragon shall die."
Baelin stood in the shadows of the forest, careful to keep hidden from those who continued to hunt.
After hours of chasing him through the night, most of his pursuers had returned to tend to the injured and bury the dead. But others were still out there, searching the forest and the sky above with relentless determination. Only now did he risk returning to the place where Kendale and Lady Jill had disappeared into the trees.
Smoke from the smoldering timbers of the inn drifted among the trees like wandering ghosts dancing about the dark trunks, but there was no trace of the corporeal beings he sought.
They were gone.
Anger and betrayal swirled within him, wrapped in a bone-deep sense of loss. How could Kendale have taken her?
He could not allow this to happen. He would not lose her. Not now.
Before he could scent their trail, the air around him shifted, bringing with it a prickling awareness. He pushed his anger aside, tensing as something darker moved among shadows, slipping in and out of the drifting smoke. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he searched the hidden recesses of the forest. He drew his sword, sensing this time it was not the people from the inn, but something much more dangerous hunting him now.
One dark shadow separated from the rest. He tensed as more followed to join the first, until two dozen surrounded him.
Like their leader, each man wore a black surcoat with a red dragon erect. Baelin knew it all too well. It had been a score of lifetimes since he'd faced one of the Dark Witch's knights. He'd hoped he'd seen the last of them.
"Greetings, Sir Baelin. Queen Isylte sends her regards."
Baelin gripped his sword hilt tighter. He had no desire to exchange pleasantries with the witch's mindless underlings. "Why are you here?"
The man grinned, but the glitter in his eyes held the sharp edge of malice. "She knows, Sir Baelin. She knows about the maid."
His gut
clenched. Nay, she cannot know of Lady Jill.
But how could he have thought she would not learn of her? After all, the Dark Witch was the one to set this curse upon him, so it stood to reason she would know when the first test was passed. She would now stop at nothing to prevent them from succeeding against the remaining challenges. Baelin sucked in a breath as a horrible possibility entered his mind.
"What has she done?"
The warrior shrugged, his stance calm, unconcerned with the armed dragon-knight standing before him. "She ordered us to remove the tapestry or the maid from your possession, for without one or the other, the curse cannot be broken." The man nodded at the tapestry tucked securely in Baelin's sword belt. "I see you still possess the tapestry, but it appears our little diversion worked, for the maid is no longer with you."
Dear God. Had he unwittingly brought death to those hapless travelers at the inn merely by sheltering with them last eve?
The leader cocked his head to the side, lowering his voice as if to exchange a confidence to a friend. "Tell us, Sir Baelin, for Queen Isylte will surely want to know. Did you watch the girl burn?"
A black vengeance rushed in, filling Baelin with fury and anguish for the innocent lives lost at the Dark Witch's whim. He bellowed with righteous outrage and charged at the knight, his sword raised high.
"Take him alive!" the leader shouted as he drew his sword. The knights rushed in, tightening the circle surrounding him.
Before the first could reach him, Baelin let loose the dragon within and blasted them with its fire, sending several warriors careening across the forest floor, igniting the dry leaves in their path. In the wake of their screams, he hacked and chopped at the others who kept coming, stabbing and slicing in a blur of motion and blood and limbs, until he stood in a circle of the dead, their blood seeping into the mossy ground underfoot.
As quickly as they'd come, those still alive vanished back into the shadows, transformed from men into formless dark clouds a dragon's fire could no longer harm and leaving no trail he could follow. He would never be able to catch them, much less kill them in their present form.