Paradox I

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Paradox I Page 3

by Rosemary Laurey


  “What power?”

  His eyes darkened as he touched the same two fingers to the base of her neck and drew them down between her breasts to rest at the base of her breastbone. “The power within you, Myfanwy.”

  He would surely burn her skin with his heat. Hadn’t the ropes that bound her fallen to the ground, charred and smoking from his touch? She had his word he’d never harm her. That she believed. But that she had power to summon water? Impossible! Not that she didn’t need it to slake the fire rising deep within her.

  His fingers still rested on her chest. Her rib cage rose and fell with each breath she took, and brushed the lower swell of her breast against his thumb. Soon all the water in the wide oceans wouldn’t quench the heat inside her. “How can I?”

  “Like this.” His free hand gently pulled her head toward the rock. “Put your mouth right beside mine.”

  Her cheek pressed tightly against the hard bone of his jaw. Her chin rubbed the rough stone as he pressed her closer to the rock and she nervously opened her lips with his. The cold stone warmed to his touch. The corner of her mouth all but burned where it touched his. His jaw moved as he sucked and the soft click of his tongue in his mouth echoed beside her ear.

  Water flowed, refreshing and icy cold, as if Arragh had tapped a hole in a cask of new mead, a steady stream of fresh water poured out the rock face. “Drink,” Arragh said in her ear. “Drink deep, we cannot stop again.”

  Realizing the depth of her thirst, she sucked hard, gulping down the cool water as fast as it flowed into her mouth. Arragh’s hand rested on her shoulder, a reminder of who now owned her life.

  At last she slaked her thirst and lifted her head. Almost at once the flow became a thread-thin trickle, then dried up completely. Only a slightly flattened fern half-dislodged at the root showed where she and the dragon had drawn water from the mountain.

  As she turned, Arragh’s finger caught a dribble of water trailing down her chin. Warmth from his touch reached up to her lip. Then he offered her the last drop of water on his fingertip. “Never waste water. It’s a gift from the Goddess.”

  Only half-hearing, she licked his finger, savoring the smoky taste of his skin and the rough edge of his retracted claw against her lip. A wild wish to feel his hands on her again called a whimper from her throat.

  “Not yet.” Arragh pulled his finger from her mouth. “Myfanwy, your needs must wait. We have miles to go yet, and the day is fading.”

  It was. The sun had sunk further in the sky even as they’d stopped on the ledge. She wanted to ask what he knew about her needs. But the expression on his face forestalled her questions. “I’m ready.”

  His great hands lifted her by her waist. Without being told, she put her arms round his neck. His hands slid down her back and as he angled her hips, she wrapped her legs around his waist. They hadn’t spoken. She’d followed the directions of his hands and her instincts, settling her body comfortably against his.

  Or she was comfortable until the hands cupping her buttocks tilted her closer. The soft skin of her thighs rubbed along the firm flesh round his waist. The soft, warm place between her legs made contact with the ridge that ran down his belly. Contact! It was as if he’d struck every bell in the tower and called the rivers of the land into full spate all at once. She let out an involuntary gasp before she caught her breath and looked up at Arragh.

  He was smiling, grinning, a sly satisfied look in his twinkling eyes. “Myfanwy, we must go. Hold tight.”

  Hold tight! Her entire body was tight as a bowstring. Arragh was playing with her, that much she knew. And even more, she welcomed his games. How had she ever felt terrified at his sight? Why… That thought was lost as Arragh leaped off the ledge.

  They dropped straight down, then pulled up as Myfanwy watched his wings unfurl like the sails on a great ship. With a shift of his shoulders, Arragh turned toward the setting sun, his strong wings carrying her away from home and toward the great fire mountain in the distant west.

  Twilight came and still Arragh flew on without faltering. Darkness fell just as the light of the fire mountain approached, the warm glow turning the gloom golden. They were here! Arragh had carried her all the way west to Cader Ambris. What awaited her now?

  Chapter Three

  They crossed the rim of the crater and dropped. This time she anticipated the fall. Moments later, Arragh stood on firm ground and lowered her down his body until she stood in front of him.

  “Welcome to Cader Ambris, Myfanwy.”

  She smiled up at him, glad to be still at last. This was his territory—a fire mountain. She looked around the vast crater. Below them the land sloped gently for many leagues to the distant glowing heart of Cader Ambris. In the golden light she saw green swards, planted gardens, a road curving around the crater, and a cluster of moving figures approaching.

  “There are others here!”

  “Yes. Did you think I lived alone? They come to greet you.”

  “But…” she hesitated, suddenly aware of her nudity, “I have nothing to wear.”

  “Neither do they.” He nodded toward the approaching crowd. “Your human rules belong in your world. Now you are in mine. We have no use for your trailing linens and woolen swathes. They prevent straight clear flight. Being my mate is all the cover you will ever need. If the winds are cold, I’ll heat you until you learn to warm yourself.”

  She only half-heard what Arragh said. Her eyes were on the dragons who now stood in a semicircle around her. Some taller, some darker, in all shades of gray, some almost as pale as she felt, but not one gave her nakedness a glance.

  “You brought her!” one said to Arragh.

  “At last!” another said.

  “I have,” Arragh said, quietly enough that no one spoke for a minute. “I bring Myfanwy, daughter of Harwed Rees. Let all know I claim her. We are both weary from travel and must rest, but in the morning we will gather here.”

  Myfanwy shivered as he spoke. It wasn’t over now that she’d arrived at Cader Ambris. It was just beginning. What waited in the morning? Would they throw her into the fire as sacrifice? Would the others tear her limb from limb as she’d once feared Arragh would do?

  “Ease your worries, Myfanwy.” Arragh’s hand closed over her shoulder as he spoke. “I didn’t bring you here for harm but to make you my mate.”

  “How can it…” she began. “How can we mate?” The thought didn’t frighten, but it surely confused.

  “I’ll show you,” he replied. “I will cherish you and teach you to summon the joy within you. There will be pleasure between us. Much more than our brief touching on the ledge.” Blush flooded her face. It had been deliberate! “You are weary and hungry. You must rest because tomorrow I will give you very little. Go with them, they will take care of you and prepare you in the morning.”

  “Go with who?” There had to be twenty of them now and the prospect of being abandoned by him among a throng of dragons was terrifying. “Granned, Marbra, and Rarrp.” As Arragh spoke three dragons came forward. They were shorter and slimmer than many of the others—women perhaps? Looking at them there was no way to tell male from female. How could Arragh talk of mating? “Take Myfanwy with you,” he went on. “Feed her, let her rest and in the morning, prepare her for me.”

  It sounded like being trussed and larded! But Arragh had promised no harm would ever befall her. Could she trust him? She had so far…

  The three dragons nodded at Arragh. The one called Granned held out her hand. “Welcome, Myfanwy. We have waited so long for Arragh to bring a mate.” She smiled and as Myfanwy smiled back, the others greeted her with a warmth that settled a few of Myfanwy’s fears.

  Without another word, they led Myfanwy along the road until they reached a tall opening in the rock. “You can rest in here,” Rarrp said quietly. “Will you enter?”

  Myfanwy paused just long enough to look back down the curving road. Arragh was watching, a dark silhouette in the gathering night. He raised an arm in salute.
Myfanwy waved back before turning to the others and stepping through the dark opening.

  Three or four paces through a narrow hallway and Myfanwy stepped into a wide, high-ceilinged room cut into the very side of the mountain itself. All four walls were smooth polished stone, as was the floor that was warm under her bare feet. Wide divans covered with furs stood in alcoves along the walls and in the center of the room was a table covered with food and drinking vessels.

  But what surprised Myfanwy most of all was the light. The walls were solid rock, not even a chink of a window existed, but the room was a bright as a spring meadow at noon.

  “Will you eat with us, Myfanwy?” Granned asked.

  Myfanwy was hungry enough to gnaw chunks off the rock. But they were offering her more than ripe peaches or small round cheeses as yellow as sunshine. They were offering her friendship and sisterhood as they waited on her word. “With pleasure.”

  They pulled low stools up to the table. Marbra reached for a white ewer and filled matching goblets with dark red wine. “May you be content with us,” she said raising her glass.

  The others echoed and watched Myfanwy as she drank. The wine was rich and smooth and too heady on a stomach empty since yesterday. She was more than glad of the slices of crumbly yellow cheese and the soft flatbread Rarrp broke and shared with her.

  “Will you be content to stay with us,” Granned asked, “or will you wish to return to your own people?”

  Marbra cast Granned a wary glance as if she’d spoken out of place. Rarrp made a sign as if to quiet her. Myfanwy looked at all three dragons.

  “My people tried to kill me with Arragh. I do not think I can return…if I knew the way or could walk that far.”

  “Then you will stay?” Rarrp asked, as anxious as Granned. To cover her apparent confusion she passed Myfanwy a platter of dark purple grapes.

  Myfanwy broke off a branchlet of seven grapes. “What else can I do?” She bit into one grape. It was sweet as honey gathered from jasmine flowers.

  “Stay with us and make Arragh very content,” Marbra said. “He has been alone too long.”

  “How long?”

  “Since his first mate died of wasting.” Marbra refilled Myfanwy’s goblet. “The year after the Solwent froze.”

  Myfanwy’s grandmother used to talk of the winter the Solwent froze! “How old is Arragh?”

  “We’re dragons,” Granned said. “Time does not touch us in the crater of fire.” She smiled at Myfanwy. “It will not touch you if you stay.”

  That thought was sobering, almost chilling. She’d better accustom herself to not being surprised at what she saw and heard in this land. She took another sip of the smooth wine and as she set her goblet down, ran her finger around the gilt band on the rim. “These goblets, they are thin as hammered silver, but they’re not metal, are they?”

  “White pottery,” Rarrp replied with a smile. “The clay comes from far in the south and they are fired in the heat of the mountain.”

  This was pottery! Could anything be more different from the rough terra cotta vessels turned by the village potter? “It’s so fine!”

  Rarrp smiled, taking her words as praise. “I’m pleased you like them. I made you a set.”

  Silent for a moment, Myfanwy looked from the fine-rimmed goblet to Rarrp’s anxious eyes. “I thank you, but…”

  “When Arragh told us he was going east to seek another mate, we prepared gifts for you.”

  “I am honored to have such a gift, to have all your gifts. I thank you.” Not sure what else to say and still very unsure of the next few hours, to say nothing of the morning and the future, Myfanwy downed the last wine in her glass, shaking her head when Marbra made to refill it. “This wine is too fine to drink deeply.”

  “And you are too weary to drink and eat much longer,” Granned said. “Come, I will show you the bathing room so you may wash before you sleep.”

  What she needed was a privy!

  Granned led Myfanwy through an opening into a dim room, pausing in the doorway, to rest her hand on the wall. In an instant, sunshine lightened the darkness.

  Myfanwy blinked at the light and stared in bewilderment. “What did you do?”

  Now it was Granned’s turn to be surprised. “Turned on the light.”

  “How?”

  “By the switch in the wall.” She demonstrated, pressing her fingers in a small indentation in the stone and then letting Myfanwy work the switch.

  It was a wonder. At a finger’s touch the dark became day. Arragh had mentioned the learning of the dragons but this… “But how does the light come?”

  “As all light, from the sun. We store it and summon it when we need it.” Granned spoke as if it was as simple as gathering nuts in autumn. “Just as we take the fire of the mountain to warm our homes and heat our stoves and water.” As she spoke, she turned a small metal handle and warm water poured from the wall to a fine white basin. Rarrp’s workmanship, Myfanwy didn’t doubt. This was all so fine, but she still needed a privy or she would shame herself. How far was it to the outhouse?

  It was under her feet. At least almost. Granned pointed out a low white basin in the corner of the room. It had ledges for her feet so she could squat and she showed Myfanwy the chute of water that cleansed the basin at the touch of a handle.

  To relieve oneself indoors in the warmth, with no need of a maid to empty the chamber pots amazed Myfanwy. But to wash in warm water that flowed from the wall at a touch, and then flowed away so no slops remained was a marvel. She washed herself with the sweet-scented soap. She did wonder at the vast basin that filled one good third of the room. Could it be an enormous bathing tub? Why not? Seemed marvel after wonder awaited her here.

  She thought briefly of Arragh. He had claimed her as his mate. A man of her father’s choosing would have done no differently. But she would have half-known what to expect from a man—but from a dragon? She reached for the soft drying sheets on the rail, and found them warmed. They lived in warmth and comfort here, and now, so did she.

  From habit she looked around for a sleeping shift but there was none, of course. No one here seemed shamed by nakedness, so she would not be.

  Extinguishing the light with her fingers, Myfanwy walked back into the first chamber.

  They had cleared the remnants of food from the table and pulled out the divans from the recesses in the walls.

  “Your bed, Myfanwy,” Marbra said as she drew back the fur cover of the closest.

  Never had a bed been more welcome or so soft. Myfanwy gladly slipped between the soft sheets as Rarrp plumped the pillow and Granned kissed her good night.

  Marbra settled the covers over Myfanwy’s shoulders. “Sleep well, Myfanwy.”

  “Sweet dreams, dear human,” Granned said.

  “Sweet dreams of Arragh,” Rarrp said with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “And in the morning they will all come true,” Marbra added.

  Would they? Myfanwy shivered even under the ample covers. What did await her in the morning? She would see Arragh again and they would be mated. Virgin she might be but she hadn’t lived nineteen years without knowing much went on between men and women. What went on between dragons and women was anybody’s guess!

  He’d kissed her, true, and she’d gladly have more of those. He’d been gentle and kindly. What else could a wife hope for from her man? But what did a dragon ask of a mate? What would happen between them…in the morning?

  Myfanwy tossed and lay awake despite her weariness, listening to the soft breathing of the dragons sleeping across the room. Then she heard the soft rustle of sheets and cautious footsteps across the room.

  “Myfanwy?” a voice whispered.

  It was Marbra. “Yes?”

  “You can’t sleep?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You are lonely and unsure of the morning.” Myfanwy nodded. “I understand.” Marbra slid quietly under the sheets, her body warm and sweet-scented. “I will sleep beside you. Remember, you need ne
ver be alone among us.”

  Glad of the other woman’s—no-dragon’s—presence, Myfanwy slowly relaxed into sleep. But she had no dreams, not of Arragh or of her lost home.

  Arragh stood on the rim of the fire mountain, the rising moon behind him, as he looked down at the glow deep in the heart of the crater, and the dark building to the right where Myfanwy slept with her attendants. Did she sleep or was she lying awake pondering on the morning? All he could think about was his brave and beautiful victim. He tossed his great head back and laughed aloud at the clouds. Victim she was not and never would be! Victims cowered. Myfanwy looked him in the eye, even when bound and helpless.

  How she’d trusted him, running at his word, and letting him carry her away. When the sun rose, she would be prepared. Readied for their mating.

  And a worthy mate she was, given she was human.

  Arragh shook his head. What fools they were! Show them fire and they use it to destroy. Give then knives and they turn them into weapons. If they knew how to call water, they’d no doubt cause floods on purpose. They had so very little, and half of what they had, they misused. Dragons would share no more of the Goddess’s knowledge with them. What humans needed or wished to learn they could find out for themselves, even if it took generations.

  He had the one human worth having, and soon he would possess her utterly. His body quivered at the prospect, remembering how she’d wrapped her legs around him, opening herself completely. She’d shown passion when he’d rubbed himself against her clit. Tomorrow he’d have her screaming with joy.

  The moon rose overhead, and finally Arragh flew down to stand outside the room where she slept. He waited there in the night quiet until he sensed another at his elbow. It was Grragh, his brother. Was he missing his mate, Granned, as she watched over Myfanwy?

  “Are you sure about this?” Grragh asked.

  “Yes,” Arragh replied.

  “It’s too great a sacrifice.”

 

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