Unraveled: Heritage of Power, Book 4

by Buroker, Lindsay

  “Lucky them. Just take the journal, you asshole,” Rysha bit out, forcing the words around her poorly working tongue. She was horrified at how this had gone bad so quickly, and terrified because, with all the training she’d endured to enter the army and then the elite troops, she couldn’t do a damn thing to fight the magical power smashing her against the hull.

  “I will take you first. I have admired that you are a warrior woman and not so malleable. Your spirit is appealing. I long to take the other one, too, but her foul sword guards her from my wiles.”

  “Wiles? Is that what you call forcing yourself on a woman?”

  “Hm, yes, it is rather unappealing to use force. I wish you to wrap your legs around me and groan and beg as the other females did. There need not be force, only pleasure.” He dragged a finger around her breast, making her body tighten and tingle, responding to his magic, not to him.

  She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, not wanting to respond and not wanting a damn thing to do with him. What would Trip think if she had sex with some megalomaniacal dragon? And why hadn’t she gone with him? This asshole dragon had already admitted he wouldn’t have tried this if Trip had been around.

  Kiss me, the dragon spoke into her mind.

  “Screw you.”

  That too. He chuckled and pressed his body against hers, his lips coming down on hers, hard and eager. She was still flattened to the hull with little control, but she managed to bite his lip. He chuckled again. You will succumb. Once you’ve known a dragon as a lover, you’ll want no other. You’ll wish to be my female and mine alone. You’ll—

  He spun away from her, the force disappearing even more quickly than it had come.

  A shadow lunged in from beside Horis. Kaika. Eryndral blazed intense green in her hands.

  She leaped past a hammock and swung at Horis’s head.

  He was fast and would have ducked but Rysha kicked him in the ass as hard as she could. He pitched forward, and the sword sank into the top of his head.

  He roared and flung himself at Kaika, moving with blazing speed. She tried to dodge, but grew tangled in the hammock. He caught her with a glancing blow, enough to knock her head back into a support post.

  That didn’t keep her from whipping Eryndral across in front of her. Horis had started to lunge after her, but he leaped back, landing in a crouch.

  Rysha yanked her pistol free and fired. She hoped he wouldn’t have his defenses up, that her bullet might slip through. But it clanged off, as if he were made from metal instead of flesh.

  Kaika regained her balance and stabbed at him, a mix of feints and determined lunges meant to skewer him. His reflexes were fast, but he had no weapons, nothing to parry with. He sprang back, and Rysha thought Kaika might catch up with him, might drive that blade through his chest.

  But metal screeched right beside them, and one of the support posts tore free from the ceiling. It toppled toward Kaika.

  “Look out!” Rysha barked, grabbing Kaika as she jumped backward. Rysha pulled anyway, wanting to make sure Kaika cleared the post.

  It slammed to the deck, tearing two hammocks free from the ceiling along the way. Kaika barely seemed to notice that she’d almost been flattened. She snarled, leaped over the fallen post, and landed in a crouch, Eryndral’s green light filling the hold.

  The light, however, landed on nothing. Horis was gone.

  Rysha slumped back against the hull, lifting a hand to her face to wipe the taint of the jerk’s mouth from hers. Her hand was shaking. Her whole body was. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to being forced against her will, to being violated by a gods-cursed dragon.

  “You all right?” Kaika looked at her but kept the sword out, pointed toward the stairs the dragon must have fled up.

  “Yeah,” Rysha croaked, though she wanted to say no. She felt disgusting all over after that, and more than ever, she lamented that Dorfindral was at the bottom of the harbor.

  “I think he went up, but we better check on the stasis chambers.”

  Rysha nodded, grabbed her pack, and holstered her pistol, for all the good it had done. “Right behind you.”

  “I knew that bastard was trouble. He’s a sorcerer, right? Eryndral gave me a little buzz when I first saw him in the tunnel, but Trip was there, too, so I wasn’t sure the complaint wasn’t about him. And then the sword’s objection disappeared completely. Do you think Horis knows the chapaharii command words? I bet he does. He probably transmitted them telepathically.”

  “Probably. He said he was cunning.” Rysha snorted. “Also that he’s a dragon, not a sorcerer. And definitely not the real Horis Silverdale. He must have read my mind and plucked out someone to emulate who was familiar to me but not too familiar.” She wagered Moe Zirkander wasn’t anywhere nearby, either, that the dragon had used his name to make her more likely to want to keep him around.

  Judging by the cursing that Kaika emitted, she agreed with Rysha’s conclusions.

  Rysha was relieved. She felt like a fool for having been pinned up against the wall and manhandled—dragon-handled, damn it—but she would have felt even worse if the others didn’t believe her, didn’t believe that she’d been helpless because her foe had been too powerful.

  “That’s a relief,” Kaika said when they reached the other side of the cargo hold. “They look like they’re still intact. Given how many people have been trying to destroy them, I thought Horis might want them dead too.”

  “He might.” Rysha peered into one of the chambers, at a tiny boy baby locked in the gel-like substance inside. She had no idea how to tell if the devices had been tampered with, but as Kaika had noted, the little indicators on the outside still glowed, seemingly to suggest power was flowing to the occupants, keeping them alive. “He just wanted something else more.”

  “You?” Kaika arched her eyebrows.

  “No, the journal I took from the outpost. I should have guessed. Twice, he suggested I should open my pack so he could examine my books. I thought he wanted the other one.”

  “Did you give it to him? I happily would have.”

  “No. I probably would have, too, to be honest, but he, uh, got distracted.” Rysha shivered at the memory of his hand groping her breast, of being able to do nothing to stop it. It had been even worse when he’d started using his magic and making her body respond. Seven gods, would she have willingly had sex with him eventually?

  Kaika grunted. “Maybe they get as stupid as whatever creatures they shape-shift into when they do that.”

  “As affected by hormones and instincts, anyway,” Rysha murmured. “They needn’t worry about reprisal, so they must feel they can do whatever they want with impunity.”

  “If he tries that again, I’ll impune the hells out of him.” Kaika raised Eryndral. “What do you think happens to a dragon if you cut off his flesh pole when he’s in human form?”

  “The history books I read didn’t cover that.”

  “A pity.”

  A yell drifted down from the deck above.

  Kaika eyed the stairs, but then looked at Rysha, her pack, and the stasis chambers. “Eryndral is letting me know there’s a dragon and that it wants to slay it. And I want to slay it too. But I’m afraid that if I leave you here alone, or leave the stasis chambers here alone, he’ll come back. For you and them.”

  Rysha wondered if Kaika’s suspicion about someone wanting the stasis chambers destroyed altogether was right. How long had this bronze dragon been here, influencing the cultists? Had he arrived after she and the others had explored the outpost and taken the journal? Or had he already been here then? Maybe he was the reason the cultists wanted Trip dead and had been calling him a usurper. Maybe the bronze dragon knew he carried the blood of Agarrenon Shivar and feared the cultists would consider him a worthy successor. Or maybe he worried one of the babies inside would grow up and become a successor. At the least, they might have the power to see through the facade the bronze dragon had to be creating, his trick to get the cult
ists to believe he was Agarrenon Shivar.

  Rysha touched the side of one of the devices, again peering in at the tiny baby. How awful to be so young—not even six months, she wagered—and to have so many people vying for him. Some wanting to use him, some wanting to kill him.

  “It’s not fair,” Rysha murmured.

  “Dealing with dragons never seems to be,” Kaika said.

  Another yell came from above decks, this time followed by a scream. Rysha grimaced. She had a feeling the injury the bronze dragon had received from Kaika’s blade had only incensed it. It would be back, and it would get what it wanted.

  “You should go up there and see if you can find a way to fight him, ma’am,” Rysha made herself say, though she wanted nothing more than to ask Kaika to stay with her and the babies, to make sure they were protected. “And if there isn’t a way, if he’s not coming within the sword’s range, you should go get Trip. I’m sure as soon as he knows about this, he’ll rush down to help.”

  Kaika glanced toward the stairs, back to Rysha, and back to the stairs again, clearly torn.

  “Go,” Rysha urged. “I’ll sit here and see if I can figure out a way to get my sword off the harbor bottom while you’re gone.”

  Kaika snorted. “That would be helpful.” She moved toward the stairs. “I’ll just go up and check, see if he’s up there. I’m not going way into the city to fetch Trip while you’re down here unprotected, but if our pretty boy Horis is on deck, I’m going to shove this sword down his throat.”

  “Don’t forget to properly attend to his flesh pole,” Rysha called after her, forcing herself to sound brave, even though she was still shaky and afraid.

  “Flesh pole, then throat,” Kaika’s voice drifted back down. “Got it.”

  Rysha slumped back against the stasis chambers. She wanted to do what she’d promised Kaika she would do, but her brain felt frazzled. How was she supposed to figure out a way to retrieve something two hundred feet under water? It wasn’t even straight down. She would have to swim or sail over near the barges and take some guesses as to where it had gone down, especially if the barges had shifted their positions since that night.

  You think about too many things, female, a voice sounded in her head. Horis, or whatever his name was, and his accent from another place and another time.

  I am Xandyrothol, the dragon said, and I shall have that journal, if I must tear that ship to pieces in order to get it. Spare your friends’ lives by bringing it up here and tossing it to me.

  Tossing it? Had he switched into his dragon form?

  Is the journal all you want? Rysha wished she could believe that were true. If it were, she would willingly toss it to the dragon and leave these people to deal with him and the cult. Half the population seemed to be in the cult.

  I will still accept you if you wish to toss yourself to me as well. He chuckled into her mind at the same time as a great wrenching sound came from above. Was he attacking the ship? Fortunately, changing into my natural form took away that pesky animal arousal, and I can think more clearly, but I would gladly save you for later.

  I hear getting hit in the head with swords takes away arousals too.

  Perhaps. Another chuckle. Mine was quite strong and sizable. Is that not what human females desire?

  I desire you to leave this ship alone. If I bring up the journal, will you promise to do so?

  She couldn’t believe she was trying to negotiate with a dragon. He could tell her anything, and how would she know if he was lying? It wasn’t as if she could look into his eyes to gauge his trustworthiness.

  Of course, he purred into her mind. Bring it now.

  Though he spoke softly, the words rang in her mind like a command, a command that could not be resisted. She caught herself taking several steps before she realized she’d done so.

  Growling, she gripped a post to stop herself, then stalked back to her position by the stasis chambers. She couldn’t trust the dragon, and she couldn’t leave the babies unprotected.

  You can trust me, he promised, purring again, and she could feel the power of those words, the way she wanted to obey them. It was as if her brain existed outside of her body, and her body kept trying to do as the dragon wished, to walk up those stairs with the journal in hand.

  If you fear for those babies, you need not, the dragon added. If you swear to take them to another country, I will stop trying to harm them. It was only when I believed they would be raised here and that these humans might consider them worthy heirs to their sire’s cult that I worried. As if half-dragon bastards could be worthier than I. Xandyrothol the Great.

  Xandyrothol. It sounded like the hoity-toity name that a pharmacist would give to a cough syrup in the hope that he could charge more for it.

  Promise me you’ll remove them from these shores and give me the journal, and I’ll bother you no more.

  Rysha closed her eyes. Even her brain was tempted this time. It seemed a logical request. But it chilled her that the dragon had admitted to being behind at least some of the attempts to destroy the stasis chambers, sending his ill-won minions after them. How could a decent person—a decent being of any kind—order babies slain?

  Come, Xandyrothol growled into her mind, a hint of impatience accompanying the word.

  A boom rang out in the distance. One of the cannons that defended the harbor?

  Rysha clenched her jaw, reminded that she and Kaika weren’t alone here, not if the dragon had revealed himself. Everyone in the city would fear him and want him gone. Even his own minions, most likely. Would they be disappointed when their returned god turned out to be a lowly bronze dragon instead of the gold their founders had written about?

  Lowly! I am Xandyrothol the Great. I fooled you, and I shall fool them. And I shall take everything I want, including all the humans here. They shall worship me and serve me for all eternity.

  Another boom sounded. Even as Rysha hoped cannonballs were slamming into the dragon’s butt, a massive squeal of metal and a tearing sound came from the hull right next to her.

  She jumped back as talons pierced the side of the ship, pinpricks of light piercing the darkness.

  Rysha’s instincts yelled for her to run, but she couldn’t leave the babies undefended. She pointed her pistol at those talons, even though it was a useless gesture. She would die here, but what else could she do?

  16

  Trip hadn’t imagined himself accompanying Grekka home after their lunch, but they were both going toward the harbor, so he found himself sitting in a steam carriage across from her as the driver navigated the bumpy streets of Lagresh. Fortunately, Grekka hadn’t put any more effort into seducing him, or whatever she’d been trying to do. After she had given him the dagger, she’d seemed satisfied that she’d gotten what she wanted. He had also done his best to dampen down his aura, since seduction attempts happened far more often when he was using his magic or showing off his power. His dragonness.

  Claws scraped on the roof of the carriage.

  Grekka smiled fondly upward. Trip was glad the winged lion was riding up there rather than in the carriage with them. It was not a small creature, even with its wings folded against its body.

  “Ma’am?” the driver’s voice came through a horn mounted in the corner. He sat atop an exterior bench in the front, steering the carriage and also keeping the fire burning to heat the boiler. “There’s a road block ahead of us. Shall I turn around and take a different route?”

  A low growl drifted down from the rooftop.

  Grekka’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of road block?”

  Instead of looking out the window, Grekka gazed upward, her eyes growing distant.

  Assuming she was checking with her senses, Trip did the same, though he didn’t yet feel suspicious. He assumed that any road block would be a result of the block-wide pit in the middle of the city that had been created earlier. Maybe the driver hadn’t heard about it yet and hadn’t known to go around.

  But when he stretched
out with his senses, he realized they were several blocks from the pit. Something else had happened at the intersection ahead of the steam carriage. Water overflowed from a broken fountain in the center, and mobile obstacles had been placed to force traffic to detour around.

  “There aren’t any enforcers up there,” Grekka said, her eyes closed to slits. “Usually, there would be for something like that.”

  Trip wasn’t sure how she could tell without opening the door and looking at uniforms, or the lack of uniforms, on the people out there. He sensed several armed men.

  In white, Azarwrath said. Apparently, the soulblade had the ability to sense colors and clothing styles. Trip would have to work on that.

  Two in white, Jaxi said, and others in simple local clothing, but all armed. I believe these may be more of your Brotherhood friends.

  Friends, right.

  “We may want to avoid that intersection and go around,” Trip said aloud.

  He didn’t want to explain to Grekka that the Brotherhood of the Dragon had been attempting to kill him since he stepped foot on the continent, though she might already know, given that she’d learned his and Rysha’s names and ranks easily enough.

  “Ma’am?” the driver prompted. “Two armed men are heading this way. Not enforcers.”

  “I know, but the alternate routes down to the harbor are also blocked. It seems a pit has appeared in the middle of the city, utterly destroying some of those routes.” Grekka quirked an eyebrow at Trip.

  “You don’t seem surprised about that,” Trip said.

  “News travels fast.”

  “Do you know who was responsible?” It occurred to him that he might be able to get some information from her, now that they were allies of a sort.

  “Don’t you?”

  “I saw cultists, but I don’t know who sent them or why they want me dead.”

  “The cult sent them. It’s been active of late, since their dragon god has presumably returned.”