Damn. I forced a breath. “What is she?” I shook my head to try and banish the funk brought on by my misbehaving emotions, turning to face the bird and bowing my head. “Sorry…I didn’t mean that. It’s just…I don’t know what you are?”
I didn’t. I had met hundreds, thousands of birds in the forest. Small, large…at the tips of the trees, huge predators flew, but never had I seen her like.
Her avian eyes shone with the crystalline light, and her plumage fluttered in a wind I didn’t feel. Suddenly, she was on me, on an arm I didn’t remember inviting her onto.
“Talyn, you silly boy,” she sang. Her voice was a sigh to my soul. “We aren’t strangers. How can we be when we have so much in common?”
Then I felt it. It wasn’t her voice that sang to something stirring deep within me. It was the spark of flame burning within us both that called to the other. I felt a small tug as tiny flames appeared in the bird’s eyes, like beacons shining on a starry night.
Ember’s brows drew together in an extremely fae-like expression, like she was curious. Then she let out a raucous cry, and I flinched before realizing she was laughing.
“Oh very good…very good indeed, dragon,” she cawed, turning to Talyn. “It appears our golden friend has been up to his mischief again.”
I looked across to see him raise an enquiring eyebrow. “Are you going to explain,” he asked her, “or do I have to extract it from you, one tail feather at a time?”
Ember shuddered. The range of expression her avian features was capable of was marvelous. “Last time you tried, boy, you ended up with singed fingers.” She huffed, and I felt the bond of friendship between the two of them flare briefly, saw Talyn’s smile widen. “I merely mean that Glyran has bestowed a gift to the girl…one that has not been given in countless ages.” She turned back to me, her pitch-black eyes gleaming with that inner furnace. “He has given her dragon fire.”
Chapter Nine
Dragon Fire
What? Dragon fire? How could I have dragon fire? In fact…what was dragon fire, besides the obvious? Then the memory of Glyran’s cryptic comment as he left me in the courtyard that day, which felt so long ago, flashed into clarity. Was that what he’d meant? Was dragon fire the gift he’d given me?
Talyn’s eyebrow twitched up, matching the corners of his… well, yes, it really was a beautiful mouth. “You didn’t know?” His voice was soft, full of the concern I felt flowing from him, but confused. He understood something I did not. I looked into those emerald eyes, and a little part of me broke inside as I felt a mirror of the rush of emotion I felt. At the back of my mind, a tiny voice whispered, ‘It would be so easy to love him.’ And it would, even though I barely knew him.
How was this even possible? I mean, I liked boys. I’d even kissed a couple, and my face flushed further at the memory. But this…whatever it was…this was totally new, completely unknown and utterly irresistible.
I forced my pulse to level, calming the thunder of my heart and doing my best not to look into his eyes. “No. I mean, Glyran mentioned a…a gift, when he brought me to the Citadel, and I felt some sort of bond between us on the journey here. Is that what dragon fire is?”
Ember emitted a sound that might have been a snort. Amusement flickered in her mind even as confusion entered mine. Clearly this dragon fire stretched beyond a simple mental link.
“Is it dangerous?” That was a new worry. Had Glyran cursed me with his gift? No. Glyran would never do anything to hurt me. He was friends with, had been friends with too many people for centuries, and he hated the princess. That was unmistakable and irrefutable.
A low, song-like chuckle. “Dangerous? You have no idea just how dangerous the power within you could be…if you choose to wield it.” Ember reached a scarlet-tipped wing to caress my cheek. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Heat, bright and scorching, cooled into soothing warmth by the softest feathers I could ever have imagined.
“Only once before has the gift of dragon fire been granted,” Ember whispered. “It turned the tide of a war, but the cost—”
Ember cocked her head, becoming silent. I desperately wanted her to continue. What had happened to the other recipient? What cost? Dammit, I had to know.
Talyn coughed softly, breaking the spell. “Trying to get a straight answer out of a phoenix is like trying to get a pearl from a mermaid…and almost as dangerous.” He smiled at my expression.
“Mer…mermaids? You mean mermaids are real?” I’d read about the mer people in books, but all told of them being wiped out in an ancient war, where so much destruction had rained down that the seas had flashed to steam.
He nodded.
“But the stories…the seas burning. How did they survive?”
Talyn spread out his arms—Jes! Stop staring at him!—encompassing our surroundings. “Another gift of this magical place.” He glanced at me. “There is a vast network of caves and caverns beneath these islands. They delve deep beneath the sea bed, so deep that when the waters boiled, the few mer people within them survived.”
I was stunned. It was like a dream became reality. Mermaids. And mermen. They were real and they were here.
“Can I see them?” I blurted it out, but I yearned to meet the creatures that were little more than myths to my people.
Talyn laughed and crossed to take my hands. I almost jerked them away as a soft current passed over my skin where his fingers touched it. It wasn’t painful, in fact, it was growing more pleasant by the second… Dammit, hold it together. I gave myself an inner shrug and concentrated on the physical contact. His hands were soft but bore calluses, evidence of hard work, or something else. “I have much to show you, Jes, and so little time.” His eyes glinted in the crystal glow. “But first, a gift. Close your eyes.”
My heart skipped. We were so close, and I was trying so hard to ignore the sensation seeping into my skin that I almost missed what he said.
“Close my eyes? Why?” I wanted to ask him if he could feel this…whatever it was…too, but before I could draw another breath he squeezed my hands and his gaze intensified. It felt like he was boring down into my soul. It would be so easy to get lost in those eyes.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered.
The scent of the surf mingled with the pine groves I had walked through hundreds of times.
“Yes,” I breathed. I closed my eyes, but instead of the darkness I expected, a green light shone before me. It was fuzzy and indistinct, with what looked like shafts of light causing a ripple on the surface. It was as if I was under water, with the sun spearing through the clouds to sparkle on the surface.
Suddenly, Talyn was there, tugging me upward. I swam through what felt like a wet breeze, but then we broke the surface.
My heart raced, then skipped, then raced again, threatening to burst from my chest. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I couldn’t fight them. Soon they streamed down my cheeks, like warm rivers of happiness.
I was home. I stood on the bough of the Tree, outside the door of my family’s dwelling. All around I felt life, vitality, and contentment, but it was the sound escaping from the open doorway that forced a sob from my chest.
Wonderful, beautiful, and enchanting. My mother’s songs had always been all of these, but the words and tone of this one had my heart shattering into a million shards. It was a lament, a tune filled with loss and longing, for a daughter gone forever.
I wanted to run in and shout, ‘I’m here! I’m not dead,’ but a gentle hand restrained me.
“She won’t be able to hear you, Jes.” I felt his sorrow and regret, but at the same time my heart bloomed with gratitude. I reached to squeeze the hand on my arm.
“How?”
He chuckled. “We knew that Lyssa had blocked the bond between you and your family, but her magic is ineffective while she’s on the islands.” He grinned wickedly, and I found myself mirroring it.
He gestured to our surroundings. “My father used your link, amplified it with his ma
gic, to create this.”
My heart dropped. “So it’s not real?”
Talyn’s eyes flashed in the sunlight as an errant ray pierced the thick canopy of leaves. “It’s real, Jes. What you see now is what is happening right at this moment, but we aren’t here…not fully, at least.”
I wasn’t certain what he meant, but as I looked at him, I felt my mouth curling up into a smile, and tender tears well within my eyes.
He looked around, and I knew by the wide eyes and the huge grin on his face that this was the first time Talyn had seen the Tree. His voice was full of wonder as he explained. “They can feel you, however. They will sense you, if your feelings are strong enough.”
There was so much joy within me it threatened to explode out, like the mighty falls of the river Ashryn flowing down from the Mountains of Fire.
I rushed in through the door. My mother sat alone, looking out a window in the direction of the Citadel. Her back was to me, but I could tell she was crying. I sensed she had been crying for a long time. I longed to reach out and touch her, but when I did, my hand passed straight through her.
It didn’t matter. My heart soared as she stopped singing, turned around, and whispered, “Jesaela?”
I almost broke. I poured my love into her and she cupped her hands over her chest, as if sensing the joint beat of our hearts.
She glanced around the room, but then her gaze settled on me, tears flowing freely. “Thank the Great Maker…you’re alive,” she sobbed.
I knelt before her. I knew she couldn’t see me, but as I cried too, my tears dropped off my cheeks to fall on the hardwood floor.
My mother gasped and knelt down beside me, rubbing her long slender fingers across the beams. When she raised them, they gleamed with moisture.
My breath caught in my throat. I glanced around as Talyn came to stand by me. “Thank you.” It was a pitiful attempt at gratitude. I didn’t know how I could ever repay him for this, but he simply smiled, nodding.
“We don’t have much time,” he said, and even as the words left his lips, the scene around me began to fade, as if the clouds descended to cloak the branches of the Tree.
I desperately wanted more time, but I sensed my mother knew I had to go.
“Jesaela,” she shouted, her voice growing distant. “War is coming, daughter. The dwelves have…” Then she was gone, and I stood sobbing in the crystal cavern, my head buried in a muscled chest. A pair of strong arms held me, and a hand gently stroked my hair.
“Thank you.” His words startled me. Why would Talyn be thanking me?
A chuckle rumbled through the chest I leaned against. “I’ve dreamt of the Tree for years. I never thought I would actually experience it. It was…it is, amazing.”
“It is.” I thought my heart might crack from the loss I was feeling, but then a warm breeze flowed around me, surrounding me like a blanket.
Ember settled on Talyn’s shoulder. “This is going to complicate matters.”
I didn’t have to ask what she meant. Stupid, impossible, and dangerous were just three words to describe whatever this was. Never mind what Talyn was about to do for me in the Citadel, if he had the same feelings for me…if these were indeed feelings. We’d taken our first tentative steps on a perilous path. Where it would lead, I had no idea. I had no idea what was happening between us, what this bond was. It wasn’t love. No, that was just stupid. I’d met him only hours earlier, but there was…something.
Talyn didn’t utter a word, but his arms tightened, as did mine.
We separated reluctantly. Voices grew louder as dozens of people entered the cavern. Talyn’s eyes glittered as he stared at me.
By the Great Maker, what is happening to me?
Ember streaked up to hide in the shadows above. Her mind spoke to mine. ‘Dragon fire.’ I felt an undercurrent of mischief. ‘You could break her, if you were to embrace the fire…but then, it might be more fun to play with it for a time before you unleash it.’ The mischief turned to contemplation. ‘Yes…a game, I think. I just need to think of some rules.’
Talyn smiled at me. He’d heard Ember’s words too. He leaned in close. “You should feel honored.” His breath caressed my neck. Damn, I was in so much trouble. “Phoenixes don’t normally get involved in our lives, and they never…ever make rules.”
I gave him an inquisitive look.
“Fire beings—dragons and the others—consider themselves above our petty squabbles.” He grinned wryly. “The spell binding the dragons to the eldar king’s will is an affront to the fabric of magic.”
I felt a wave of fury and frustration, and then Ember’s voice spoke. ‘Now the game begins.’
Her words echoed in my head as the guests arrived.
Game? What game?
I’d soon find out. And I’d hate her for it.
Chapter Ten
Torture
“Lyssa, my love.” The voice drawled, slurring with the excess of wine he’d drunk. “Your pet grows bored.”
The princess’s eyes snaked over me from across the smooth surface of the table. I lowered my head, willing them to return to the sneering figure at her right hand, swaying in his seat, sloshing wine from a crystal goblet. I wondered if the princess noticed how much of it went on the floor instead of into his mouth. Damn, he was good.
Lyssa placed a hand on his. Part of me broke as Talyn’s ocean-deep eyes surveyed me with deep disdain. I wondered how long he’d been planning…practicing for this. He was hateful, brimming over with malice and spite, a perfect mate for the princess.
“Talyn, behave yourself,” said a reproachful voice. Alwyn…King Alwyn, sat with fists clenched on the table, his eyes flashing with barely restrained anger. “That is no way to talk to our guest.”
Talyn snorted and stood up, swaggering as he pushed his chair over to clatter on the rock floor. He sneered before bowing theatrically to me. “Please accept my sincere apologies, oh honored guest.” I flinched as he raised his eyes to stare into mine. “I’m sure we will be…friends, when I leave this Maker-forsaken place to join my people in the Citadel.”
If I hadn’t known the truth my blood would have run to ice, but even knowing it, a shiver ran down my spine.
A loud bang shook the table as Alwyn’s hand smacked down. His face had deepened to an angry shade of crimson. I was surprised he had lasted so long.
The meal had been a dance, and everything had a price. What had started out as polite conversation had degenerated into petty squabbles. These people truly hated each other, but most of all, Talyn hated his father. It had been evident right from the start of the meal, from the sidelong glances and sneers between them, and only got worse as Talyn got drunker and drunker.
Alwyn snarled. “Enough!” He looked straight at Lyssa, barely composing himself. “It appears, princess, that you have a match blessed by the Maker.”
A clatter sounded, and all heads turned to see Talyn sprawled on the floor, tangled in the legs of the chair he’d been trying to pick up.
There were a few sharp intakes of breath, a titter of laughter, and one barely audible curse from the king. He turned to face Lyssa’s chief advisor, who had been negotiating the arrangements for the upcoming ceremony. “I believe you had suggested an engagement period of one month, before my son”—he spat the word—“travels to the Citadel.”
The tall, hook-nosed eldar nodded.
Alwyn stood up. “I find this agreeable, but instead of the engagement being served separately, as is custom, I believe it best if my son were to depart with you when you leave.”
Several gasps filled the air, from both parties. Heads grew close in low whispers, and I heard words like outrage, and phrases like against all tradition.
Then the princess coughed slightly. The voices silenced, and a faint smile appeared on her lips, reminiscent of when a raptor gets a rodent.
I’d half expected her to call the whole thing off when she’d witnessed Talyn’s crude behavior, but the wicked gleam in her eyes su
ggested otherwise. By now, Talyn had managed to pick himself and the chair up, and flumped down onto it, his expression dazed.
Lyssa placed her gloved hand on his. He smiled. I almost threw up.
“It is agreed, Alwyn,” she said. The king bristled at the use of his name but said nothing. “In fact, I see no reason to stay the week we had planned to.” She turned to her advisor. “Make the final arrangements tomorrow, and summon the dragons the following day at noon.”
Damn! No! I was going back. Too soon too soon too soon. A talon of ice gripped my heart. I wouldn’t get to see the mermaids or explore any more of this wondrous place. Worse, Lyssa was sure to think up some diabolical punishment for Vaeolet’s earlier defiance.
Talyn’s eyes caught mine, just for the briefest instant. He winked…actually winked. Ah, thank the Maker, this had been precisely their plan all along.
The king nodded, his earlier rage turning to a look of sorrow and disappointment as he glanced at his son.
Lyssa returned the nod.
Talyn belched.
I expected Lyssa to grimace but instead she smiled, and I caught a sense of urgent expectation as she looked at Talyn, as a spider might look at a fly. He was playing a very dangerous game, but I knew he would not be trapped in her web, even if she thought he already was.
Lyssa rose to her feet, her court following her example. She inclined her head to Alwyn. “I’m afraid I grow rather tired.” She looked at the heavily laden table, and her lip curled up in disgust. I felt the hatred flowing out like a wave of spite, but if anyone else noticed her expression they didn’t react. She turned abruptly, saying, “Thank you for the meal. Goodnight.”
I got up to follow, but the king’s eyes met mine. He waved a hand and I gasped as an odd sensation washed over me, as if a cloak of mist settled on my skin. Then, to my astonishment, a specter of me detached from my body and followed the group. I almost cried out when I glanced down and realized I was invisible. I struggled to stay silent, and within seconds, the princess, her court, and my ghost had disappeared through the cavern entrance, leaving us alone.
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