Lyra bit into her lip, thankful to whatever force had blessed her to reach the small closet where Kripken stored various weapons and battle gear. Quickly, she set the latch in place, locking the door. The door rattled violently as Kripken pulled at it. He was probably cursing himself for making the door so strong. Whatever he had stored in here must mean an awful lot to him. Lyra was just thankful Sani had forgotten to close the door properly.
She removed the boot that had bitten into her thigh and her fingers brushed against what appeared to be a deep groove in the floor. The door shook violently as Kripken began battering it with some heavy object. Lyra hoped that perhaps Kripken hid special weapons in this room. It was the only explanation for having a space such as this.
She curved her fingertips under the groove and pulled. It refused to budge at first. Lyra pulled harder until the small plank lifted. A blinding light came from the inside of the small cavern. Inside rested the most beautiful stone she’d ever seen. Swirls of orange and red seemed to constantly coalesce, making the stone seem alive. Everything seemed to fade. Before she lost consciousness, she picked up the stone. It was warm in her fingers.
The door suddenly gave, crashing above her head. Ripped from its hinges, it was thrown viciously into the outside room. Lyra clutched the stone in her hand, not knowing why but knowing she needed to hold onto it. “That is my property, wench. Give it to me now. Perhaps later I will spare you just a bit when I slake my lust between your virginal thighs.”
How Lyra could have thought this man handsome was beyond her. He looked stark-raving mad. Lyra reached for her blade with one hand. She would die before she allowed him to touch her. Kripken reached for her, and Lyra swiped the blade across his wrist, hitting a main vein. Blood spurted everywhere. The crimson fluid landed on her white gown and on her face. She spat out the disgusting liquid that had found its way into her mouth. Kripken howled in rage, drawing back just long enough to look at the damage she inflicted.
Lyra didn’t wait a second longer. She tucked and rolled between his legs, hoping she could just get out of the room. The gown, however, was too long, and her legs became entangled in the long, wispy material. She tried to stand, but couldn’t get to her feet fast enough as she pulled at the fabric immobilizing her. Kripken grabbed her hair. Her scalp felt like it was being ripped from her skull as he tossed her across the room as if she were a child. “I am done being hospitable,” he ground out between bared teeth as he crossed the room quickly, grabbing her by the arm.
Lyra grimaced as his fingers bit into her wrist, forcing her to drop her blade. With her fingers tight around the stone, Lyra hit him across the face. To her shock, his skin split, opening a nasty gash in his cheek. He seemed stunned as well. He looked at the stone in her bloody fingers. Before she could duck, Kripken smacked her again, sending her flying back across the room and dislodging the stone from her grip. The stone skipped across the floor. Lyra cried out at its loss. The impact of her hitting the wall immediately knocked her unconscious.
Chapter 12
His side ached. His head hurt. Lyra was gone. Daene tried to sit up and was immediately pushed down gently bur firmly. It was then that Daene wondered where he was. He opened his eyes and found Seven looking down at him.
“You have to rest and stay quiet,” she warned him as she ran a cool cloth across his head.
“What are you doing here?” His throat felt dry, full of sand.
“I got off the ship when Lyra wasn’t looking.” Seven grinned, dipping the cloth in cool water. “I got to thinking, I could learn a lot from her. I could help others escape like she does.”
“H-how did you find me? I should be dead.” He grimaced as she began checking the bandages.
“No, you’re going to be fine. You’re almost healed. I don’t think you’re human, Daene, but then again, I’m not fully either.” Daene looked at her suspiciously and sniffed her scent. Still he couldn’t find anything that stood out. “You’re wasting your time. Witches don’t have distinct smells. At least that’s what my mother told me.”
“Does Lyra know this?” he asked, wondering if he was still dreaming.
“No.”
“I have to find her.” Daene tried to get up again. Seven pushed him back down.
“You can’t do anything to help her now. That guy that dumped your body in the ravine is taking her to his lair.”
“He dumped me?” Daene was insulted. Obviously Kripken thought he was dead.
“Yeah, spit on you too.” Seven said casually. “But don’t worry they won’t get far.” Seven rose from the bed and poured the water out the window.
“Please, Seven, I don’t want to have to ask you everything,” Daene pleaded, wanting to choke the young woman.
She put her hands on her slim hips and looked down at him. Then Daene realized just how closely she resembled Lyra with the small build and short hair. His heart contracted painfully at the thought of never seeing Lyra again. He had to find her.
“Fine, I spelled the horses. They’ll be confused for a while and take them in circles. You’ve been out of it about a day.”
“How—”
Seven held up her head indicating that he should shut up. “After I left the ship, I headed back to Evera. I guess I made it back before you two. I told the guards at the gate I was a servant at the Hostel. I was trying to make some money before I caught up with Lyra. I saw you two slip in the kitchen and knew you were up to something.
“I trailed a suspicious servant through the kitchens and saw him come up behind Lyra with a knife. After you guys fought, I thought you were dead. I followed, and when he dumped your body, he said to one of his men that he was taking Lyra back to his home. I didn’t know what to do so I spelled the horses until I could come up with a plan. Then I realized you were still alive—barely but alive.”
“Thank you, Seven,” Daene said hoarsely.
“I owed you one. After all, you could have turned me in for money at Feznik’s Hostel. Instead, you stuffed Jaen and me in an alcove. I’ll always be grateful for that.” She turned on her heel and looked out the window. “I don’t know how long the owners of this place will be gone. I suspect they’re in town for the festivities. We have to leave soon.” She turned her light green gaze on him. “Can you walk?”
Daene grunted. He would walk if it killed him. It was his fault Lyra was taken. He had to rescue her. Daene rose slowly feeling the sting in his side. The cuts had been deep enough to kill him. After two halting starts, Daene finally rose from the bed.
“Let’s go,” he said to Seven. She opened her mouth then closed it when she saw the firm set of his jaw.
“I’ll get the horses.”
* * * *
“How are you doing?” Seven asked handing him the flask of water. Daene felt better. He was healing fast. He suspected Seven used herbs to aid him to heal faster than his body normally would have.
“Better,” he said shortly, his mind occupied. During the night, all he could think about was Lyra in the hands of Kripken. He prayed that Kripken hadn’t touched her. It disturbed him to think he wanted to kill Kripken more for kidnapping and possibly defiling Lyra than killing his family and stealing their Dracontias stone.
“She’s fine you know.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because I have to believe that,” Seven said emotionally. “Look.” Seven pointed to the horses that seemed to be wandering aimlessly. “Those are the horses I spelled.”
They approached the horses, and Seven said something rhythmically under her breath. “They’re fine now.” She smiled, stroking the horses.
“We could use them,” Daene said, seating himself on one. Seven climbed the one she was stroking. She whispered in its ear. “What are you doing now?”
“These are your would-be killer’s horses. I simply told the horse to go home.”
“You talk to animals, too?” Daene looked at her with a newfound respect.
“The very calling of a
witch is to respect and commune with nature.”
“You are amazing, Seven,” Daene said with a smile. He grabbed the reins of the other two horses. “Lead the way.” Seven took off at full speed, Daene close on her heels.
Daene and Seven arrived at a very small town after a short ride. In fact, Daene was reluctant to even call it a town. It looked more like a group of people who had gathered in the middle of nowhere and decided to stay.
“If you keep looking at the people with such a blatant shock, they won’t be obliged to help us,” Seven whispered.
“It’s just so, primitive,” Daene said, not lowering his voice nearly as much as he should have.
“I can’t believe you’re a snob,” Seven said in reprimand. “And I am the one who’s royalty.”
“I am royalty as well.” Daene looked at Seven. “And I am not a snob. I just see no reason to live like this.”
“Really? What’s your station?” Seven asked looking at him rather doubtfully. “I heard Lyra call you a thief and murderer more than once. You don’t sound like royalty to me.” Seven lifted her nose a notch in the air.
“I am the son of a king, the likes of which you don’t know and therefore cannot pay due respect so leave the subject alone. I am just shocked that the town is so small and poor.”
“Well, whoever holds the lands must be quite a miser,” Seven observed. “Anyway, this place doesn’t look like it caters to the laws of men regarding women.” Seven pointed to a woman openly arguing with a man.
“She looks angry.” Daene smiled, thinking of how easily Lyra was quick to anger as well. “We should probably stop her from beating the poor man into the ground.”
“You sure have a soft spot for a rogue.” Seven smiled and headed toward the arguing couple.
Daene tied the horses to a leaning post but decided the horses showed no desire to go anywhere anyway. He ordered Seven to stay on her horse as he approached the couple. “I tell you I had no choice,” the man repeated again slapping a fist into his hands.
“I’ve had enough of that high-and-mighty knave! You’ve got to—” It was then the woman turned around. Her sharp beady gaze appraised Daene appreciatively. She hoisted her ample bosom up even higher. “Can I help you, handsome?” she asked flirtatiously.
“Damn it, woman, I’m right here!” the man yelled. “Have some respect.” He shook a fist at her.
Her attention riveted on Daene, the curvaceous woman ignored her husband. “My husband was just leaving to take care of some things, weren’t you, Garen?” she purred at her husband.
“No, I was not.” The small man stood his ground. He looked at Daene with scorn. “What do you want?” He looked behind Daene at the horses. “Are you selling those? I could use them. Damn High Lord took my best horses and barely paid for them. As if he isn’t charging us enough to sit on this barren land,” the man grumbled.
Daene’s ears perked up. “How long ago was that?” he asked casually, the man eyed him for a moment.
“About two hours ago. Well, are you selling or not?” the man demanded.
The woman shoved him. “I’m sorry about Garen. Is that your young wife?” She nodded at Seven.
“No, she is my niece. The horses are tired and need food and water.” Daene decided to ignore the grumpy man. The woman appeared to be easier to deal with. They couldn’t risk rescuing Lyra with fatigued horses. The sooner the horses were tended to, the quicker they could get to Lyra.
She motioned for them to follow her as she barked out orders to her husband to tend to the animals. Seven slid off her horse and joined Daene and the woman. In no time, she gave them a simple meal of warmed up biscuits with brown gravy, and leftover cold meat. She flirted outrageously with Daene as he ate. He used the opportunity to pump her for information.
After promising to come back later, Daene returned to the horses with Seven. “You should stay here,” he said, climbing onto his horse.
“Don’t order me around, Daene,” Seven warned him. “I’ve come this far and I mean to help Lyra.”
Daene saw determination in her posture and relented. “Fine, but you’ll do as I say, agreed?”
Seven took a moment to think it over. “Agreed, unless of course I judge you are not making a wise decision.” She sped off on her horse before he could respond. He wondered if Lyra had been like Seven at her age.
* * * *
“Let me talk, say nothing,” Daene instructed Seven as he kept his eyes on the men coming toward them, ready to react in a moment. “Act as if you’re my wife.” Daene watched the men approach them slowly. He hoped Seven would listen to him and not open her mouth. “Good eve,” he said, lightly nodding to the robe-hooded men. They pulled their horses to a stop in front of Daene and Seven.
The man appeared to be the leader pulled back his hood and sized Daene up before his eyes perused the horses. “Those horses do not belong to you. I’ve been sent to retrieve them. They belong to my master.”
“Well, of course, they do.” Daene’s agreement surprised the man. “I saw them wandering about and my wife and I decided to return them,” Daene said cheerfully.
“I will tell my master. Now if you and your wife would kindly step down from the beasts, we can take them from here,” the man said gruffly, holding his hands out for the reins.
“If you don’t mind, I think we’ll keep them,” Daene said thoughtfully and climbed down off his horse. The man looked puzzled. Daene pulled the man from his horse and, with one claw detracted, sliced the man’s throat. Daene quickly reached up, grabbed the other man off his horse, and snapped his neck before the man hit the ground. He turned to see the third man urging his horse to turn around. The horse didn’t get far. With a burst of speed, Daene managed to knock the man off the horse. In seconds, the man had bled to death from the gash to his heart. Daene walked back to a wide-eyed Seven, his red eyes taking in her awestruck face.
“You are a Fire Beast.” Seven smiled without a trace of fear.
“Get down here, remove the robe from this man, and put it on. They will help us gain entrance into the lair,” He was already taking the robe off one of the corpses. She paused before she jumped down and followed his actions. “Kripken’s lair can’t be far from here.” Daene robed now, hopped back onto his horse, and grabbed the reins of the others. When he saw that Seven was sufficiently covered in the black robe and seated again, they took off at a mad pace.
Chapter 13
Daene didn’t breathe until they were safely inside the walls of Kripken’s lair. Not one question had been asked of them. The gates just opened, allowing him and Seven to enter. “That was quick work, the master will be pleased,” one guard commented. Daene shook his head in acknowledgement and kept moving. He had to rely on his sense of smell to find where they kept the horses. Thankfully, Seven behaved.
They handed the reins to one of the stable hands and kept moving. Seven kept close behind. Daene knew he was moving blind. He had no idea of the layout of the lair or even where Lyra was being kept. As long as he kept moving, there was a chance he could save her. His nose twitched as a familiar scent demanded to be recognized. Hastily, he followed his keen sense of smell, heeding the feeling in his gut that he had to hurry.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he felt like he’d just entered a maze of some sort. There were so many corridors. Too many doors made the margin of error great. Daene closed his eyes and singled out the one scent that mattered most to him. He followed it dutifully, his brow in a deep scowl as he realized that Kripken’s scent was mingled with Lyra’s. He heard a cry, and then something thudded against the wall.
In a fury, Daene burst into the room. His heart stopped beating at the sight before him. Lyra lay bloody and unmoving on the floor against the wall. Her gown was twisted about her legs. He swallowed hard, telling himself she wasn’t dead. Daene’s furious gaze settled on Kripken. His arm was bloody, but Daene knew whatever injury he had was probably healed. Kripken spared him a glance, but his eyes seem
ed riveted on something else.
Slowly Daene followed Kripken’s gaze to the stone that lay half under Lyra’s bloody gown. His family’s Dracontias stone. Seven gasped behind him as she entered the room and saw Lyra. In a flurry of movement, Daene reached the stone before Kripken. Kripken backed up cautiously. “Take care of her,” Daene said to Seven without moving his gaze from Kripken.
“You have no idea how to use that, whelp.” Kripken slowly circled Daene. “I could help you.”
“No, I think you’ve helped yourself enough,” Daene answered, ripping the hindering robe from his body. The stone warmed in his palm. Daene knew the stone was powerful as a whole. Small pieces were chipped from the stone giving the bearer more than enough power to shift into dragon form. He didn’t have time for that. He would have to risk merging with the entire stone.
“I know what you’re thinking, don’t do it. It’ll kill you.” Kripken smiled with wicked glee. “It’s the way of nature, the strong rule. Your family was not strong enough to hold onto the stone. By right of might, it belongs to me and the family I will start.”
“You murdered and betrayed for this. You did not win it in a fair challenge. That rule does not apply.” Daene’s voice dipped low as his anger rose.
Daene knew of the possibility that the stone’s power could be too much in its entirety, but he had to take that chance. He could never defeat a dragon with two stones. Kripken had already proved that. Daene knew the moment Kripken decided to attack. The stone seemed to whisper to him.
He lifted the palm-sized stone to his necklace. The metal swelled until the large stone was embedded. Daene roared in pain as Kripken collided with him at the same time his skin absorbed the necklace, turning it into a tattoo. Both men spilled out into the corridor. An unnatural silence filled the hall, and then Kripken was thrown upward, his body cracking against the high ceiling before he landed. Kripken stood, blood pouring from his ears.
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