Dance of the Dragon Sorceress [Tangere Tales 3]

by Heather Rainier

  “Oh, how rude! I was showing Flappy how to bang his head.”

  Rainger nodded, remembering that expression.

  “Dancing! I was dancing! Gah! Doesn’t anyone here ever dance? Never mind. A bunch of guys named after Skittles colors, you’ve probably never heard of dancing.”

  “The abbey of the Order of the Dragon is certainly no place for frivolity, Mistress,” Lord Violet said, keeping his eyes on Flappy as the little guy stretched his neck out to look around.

  Flappy sneezed, and she said, “Oooh! You poor baby! I hope you’re not coming down with a cold, Flapster.”

  “He’s not coming down with a cold,” Rainger said as he watched Flappy rather carefully.

  She waved a hand to clear the dust from the air as she hacked. “Ack! I think he must’ve gotten into some dust while I slept. It seems to make him sneeze.”

  “That’s not sneezing,” Violet said as his scarred eyebrow arched.

  “And that’s not dust,” Rainger added, a smile forming on his face as he sidled close to her. “It’s ash.”

  “Ash? There was no ash in the fireplace. I checked, and it was clean.”

  “It’s ash, because he’s a baby dragon.”

  “Huh? The fuck you say?” she asked in a perfectly reasonable tone. Well, what else could one say when faced with the impossible? Nothing intelligent, certainly.

  Turns out it was a good thing Rainger had sidled close. He caught her up under her knees just as the roaring in her ears overtook her other senses.

  “We should’ve sat her down before telling her she’s bonded with a dragon.”

  The last thing she heard was Flappy crying out, “Meemee!”

  Chapter Four

  Basile walked beside Lord Violet and Rainger as his friend carried the woman down the corridor to one of the private chambers located in the same wing. He’d exited the bedchamber in time to witness her collapse. If he’d been closer, he would’ve been the one to catch her. Then he’d look as pleased with himself as Rainger did at the moment.

  Damn it.

  “If the heir enjoys Elaina’s company, I see no reason why they can’t continue on as they have, at least for a few weeks more. After that, well…”

  “What?” Basile asked, listening with half an ear to what Lord Violet had said. Her lips were such a vivid rose color. Her hair swung in long locks over Rainger’s arm as he carried her. Basile noticed that he, too, seemed to pay more attention to the sight of her than to what Lord Violet had to say.

  The leader of the Order said, “She may deny being a witch, but you two are most certainly enthralled.” He tilted his head to look at the tiny dragon perched on his shoulder as they walked along and said, “What do you think, Sire? Are they enthralled?”

  “Nurk!”

  “Nonsense. Now what were you saying?” Basile asked as he continued on.

  Lord Violet chuckled as the heir to the dragon throne, known to all as Zayrgrud the Terrifying, capered from one shoulder to the other, holding tight to one of Lord Violet’s ears as he peered inside of it. Violet shuddered involuntarily at the attention and turned his head so they were nose to nose. He spoke to the dragon in its own language, which it would understand thanks to Cirruth the Cunning, the queen of the dragons, who had brought him forth and cared for him until hatching. “Sire, I have a certain ticklishness to my ears, if you wouldn’t mind not inspecting them so closely. Thank you very much,” he added as Zayrgrud “nurked” and then rode along in mannerly stillness.

  “Meemee?” the baby dragon murmured as he gazed at Elaina with adoration.

  Violet pointed at Elaina. “Is this your Meemee?”

  “Nurk! Meemee!” the dragonling said with certainty, stepping from foot to foot and bobbing his head up and down in a reliable imitation of her earlier “head-banging.” He sneezed and then imitated Elaina. “Ack!”

  “If Cirruth the Cunning was forced to leave him in the cave before he’d hatched completely, it’s possible he’s imprinted on Elaina. Considering how upset she became when you tried to remove him earlier, Basile, she seems to have quite a bond with him.”

  Violet opened the way to a vacant bedchamber and smirked when he caught Basile glancing at the next door. Basile’s door. They’d just passed the door to Rainger’s chamber. Violet shrugged. “It was the next available. You two can watch over her and keep her safe.”

  Rainger carried her within. Basile lit a taper and then held it to the kindling in the neatly arranged fireplace until the fire caught.

  “As I was saying, there’s no harm in him staying with her for now. It’s not like he could accidentally set the bed curtains afire.”

  “Not yet, anyway,” Rainger said as he laid her carefully on the bed, taking the time to smooth her silky black hair away from her face.

  Basile’s hand twitched as he remembered the sleek coolness of the inky tresses he’d had the privilege to finger through earlier while trying to retrieve the baby dragon.

  The red ties on her odd-looking boots came loose when he pulled on the ends, and he slipped the footwear and woolen socks off. Her tiny feet, warm and tender from being inside her footwear, were the most beautiful, delicate things he’d ever seen. Of course, living in the abbey with the Order, he was more accustomed to the stinking, callus-riddled clodhoppers of the knighted brotherhood. These beauties he could imagine stroking and caressing for hours, they were so pretty.

  A hard thump on the back of his head from Violet brought his attention back to the discussion.

  “It could be a few weeks before he’s capable of breathing flame, and he’ll need time to strengthen his wings. We’ll have him fit to fend for himself in no time.” He studied Rainger for a moment and put a hand on his shoulder. “I can read your thoughts in your expression. Your heart hasn’t been in doing the will and the work of the false queen since you came to us.”

  Rainger nodded, no trace of hesitation in his expression, only useless guilt. Basile knew what that lack of hesitation cost him, and the risk he took by being there. Roping Rainger’s arms and his neck were the tattoos traditionally worn by the queen’s dragon huntsmen, but they weren’t merely ornamental. They served a deadly purpose, as well.

  Rainger caught him looking at his tattoos. “No sign of a change…in them or in me.” The evil queen could execute him with the cursed things if she got a mind to.

  Normally, the huntsmen spent their time in the field, searching the Western Kingdom for dragons, so his presence in the forest was unremarkable compared to his brethren who were also huntsmen. As long as he returned periodically to report to his commander, he was safe. The risk lay in them making a connection between Rainger and the Knights of the Order of the Dragon.

  The tattoos were normally a deep copper color, but when Draconia desired the presence of a particular huntsman, or a platoon of them, she used magic to burnish the tattoos to a gold color. The marks would also grow warm and then progressively hotter the longer the huntsman took in returning to her stronghold, Palais de Lune de Sang. The Blood Moon Palace. And if she wanted to punish a huntsman…

  A slight sound drew Basile’s attention, and he looked down to discover Elaina had opened her eyes. He wanted to lean closer, to discover how blue they were when they weren’t dilated with fear. “False queen? What?” she murmured before casting her wide gaze around the room.

  Violet glanced up at him, and a furrow appeared between his brows before disappearing. She was bound to have more questions soon, but the cautious leader of the Order would have his answers first.

  “Elaina,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed where she lay, looking dazed. He took her hand and held it between his own. “You still haven’t told us where you are from and what your purpose was in the forest.”

  She seemed to relax after Zayrgrud cuddled up in the crook of her neck once more. “What are you doing?”

  “I can read the truth in your words if I hold your hand. So you must tell me.”

  “I’m an American, from
Washington, specifically from Seattle. I work as a pre-school class instructor while I finish my degree in early childhood education.”

  “All true, although I didn’t understand some of it. Continue.”

  “I am an only child. I drive a Honda. I was camping with my best friends, Angel and Caresse, when we entered a cave, searching for a cat, and discovered three tunnels. We each took one. I followed my tunnel and, instead of the animal we were searching for, I found Flappy. In the dark, I thought at first he was a really malnourished cat. Then when I saw him, I thought he might be an owl or some kind of baby bird of prey or a flying squirrel maybe.”

  Lord Violet said, “If you came here via one of Selena Eryaras’ cave portals, then you are here for a good reason.”

  “I didn’t understand a word of what you just said.”

  “All will be revealed in good time, Mistress. Selena is nothing if not predictable.”

  A sudden wind whipped up within the chamber, and a shower of silver sparks coalesced into a feminine form.

  “Predictable, my ass! No woman wants to be thought of as predictable, buffoon,” Selena said as she flopped down on the other side of Elaina and gave her a quick once-over. “Still in one piece, I see? I smell a wet dog somewhere close by. Did you get a dog? Ooh, I like your pedicure!”

  “Hi?” Elaina said, utterly still with head on the pillow, keeping a sharp eye on the fae. Good instincts. “I take it you’re Selena?”

  “I had a feeling you were listening in, Selena,” Violet said. “I wasn’t calling you predictable, so much as picking at you to see if you’d appear and—”

  “You missed me. Just say it. ‘I missed you, oh beautiful one.’ That’s what you say after a lovely night out that was interrupted and never finished.”

  Although it made a certain kind of sense, Basile tried to hide his astonishment that there might be something between the fae enchantress and head of the knighted Order.

  Violet glanced at him. “What? We’re not celibate.” He cleared his throat and bowed over her hand. “Selena—”

  “Don’t try to apologize. I’m already over it. And this must be His Most Majestic Highness, Zayrgrud the Terrifying.”

  The baby dragon trilled and sat up at the sound of his name. He practically purred when she reached out a silver fingernail and scratched beneath his chin, his neck stretching and his foot tapping when she hit the right spot.

  “Terrifying? Zayr—grud the Terrifying? That’s really his name?” Elaina asked, a smile bowing her lips. Basile found that he wanted to smile in response. He hadn’t had many excuses for smiling lately.

  Lord Violet nodded, finally releasing Elaina’s hand. “If you saw his sire, you’d understand why he was given that name.”

  “So, he’ll grow into it, or is it strictly for show?”

  “Oh, no. He’ll grow into it all right. His mother and father are both…” Selena held her hands apart, then stretched them farther apart, then farther and, at a loss, finally flapped them. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

  “Okay. Hey, where did my boots go?”

  Basile said, “I thought you might be more comfortable without them. I placed them by the bed for you. Are you hungry?”

  She gazed at him and then blinked and seemed to come back to herself. “What? Hungry? Uh, no, but probably soon. And Flappy must be starving.”

  “Nurk!”

  “Flappy?” Selena said with a giggle. “You call him Flappy?”

  “Yeah, Flappy McFlapperson. Or Flapster. Flappy-Doo when he wants snacks. Flappy Chicken when he tries to dance.”

  The baby dragon seemed to be following the conversation and did a little side step maneuver and banged his head a few times for her.

  Selena doubled over, mouth open, laughing silently, before she finally snorted and burst into giggles. “Of course you named him Flappy. I should’ve guessed.”

  “Huh?” Elaina asked.

  “Never mind. You’ll understand soon enough.”

  “Thanks, but hardly anything makes sense right now,” Elaina countered.

  Careful, beautiful. Don’t offend her. One never knows what to expect with Selena. Gorgeous, capricious fae.

  Selena stopped in mid-chortle and pointed a finger at Basile, hesitated, and then pointed the finger at him again. “Okay, that one was a wash, prince, but watch it with the self-talk. You broadcast so loudly I could’ve picked up on your tiny foot fetish out in the hallway. I’m not capricious—I’m badass.”

  “Foot fetish?” Rainger muttered, looking at Basile as if he’d sprouted horns.

  Selena pointed an elegant finger at his hands, which were currently rubbing and stroking Elaina’s gorgeous, tiny feet.

  He dropped them, and Elaina snickered before saying, “Don’t stop on my account. Wait, she called you a prince. You’re a prince? Of course you’re a prince. And I’m trippin’.”

  The door behind them opened and then closed as Sir Orange came to stand beside Basile, silently listening. “Did you trip? Is that why your shoes are gone, Mistress? That’s all right. You don’t have to answer. I can see you’re all right. What are the brown blobs of goodness? And where can we get more? I’m asking for the Order and not just for myself—although Bleu the Irascible refuses to try his.”

  “What?” Elaina asked as she squinted one eye and giggled lightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch half of that. Did you want something?”

  “Sorry,” he said as he drew near and gave her a courtly bow and a big grin. “Sir Orange, at your service, Mistress.”

  “O—you’re Orange.”

  Sir Orange slammed his mouth closed and arched a brow. “No, Mistress. S’il vous plait, I am Ohh-rrraanzh.”

  Lord Violet shook his head, and Rainger rolled his eyes. Basile said, “You’re Orange.”

  Orange formed his lips around “Ahrringe.”

  “Very nice,” Elaina said as she pulled a small wrapped package and tossed it in the air for him to catch, which he did.

  The others, with the exception of Selena cringed, not knowing what she’d thrown. Orange crowed. “Thank you, Mistress. Got any more of them?”

  “What is that?” Basile asked as he leaned closer to look at the package, which was wrapped, oddly enough, in some sort of orange paper.

  “Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup,” Selena said as she snagged one from the handful Elaina pulled from the bag.

  “Chocolate and peanut butter candy. I got them cheap when Easter candy went on sale. You never know when you might get hangry and need a boost.”

  Selena chuckled and nodded and sank her teeth into the brownish lump, as if she knew exactly what all that hodgepodge of phrases meant. “Mmmmm.”

  “Thank you, no,” Basile said as Elaina offered him one.

  “Suit yourself, but I don’t think they’re going to last—”

  After bowing his thanks, Orange put another chocolate in his mouth and groaned, “Ohhh, that is so good…” He mumbled several intelligible words of thanks and left with the chocolates in hand.

  Zayrgrud made several more of what Elaina had thought earlier were sneezes, a cloud of ash billowing forth and making them all cough.

  Selena patted Elaina’s thigh and rose from her perch on the edge of the bed. “Well, looks like things are totally under control here, so I’m taking off. I have irons in the fire that need tending.”

  Elaina held out a hand to stop her. “Uh, I don’t think anything is under control. I’ve got no idea where I am, but I am supposed to believe you’re fae, he’s a prince, and Flappy is a dragon. Oh, and the Skittles boys are down the hall eating my chocolate stash. And somewhere out there is an evil queen who probably does horrible things, and I guess this means I’m in for a big ol’ mess of shit, doesn’t it?”

  Selena mulled her words over, patted her knee, and said. “Pretty much. I’m in the middle of a…um…situation that I’m keeping an eye on right now, but I’ll be back soon. I really do love that pedicure.”

  Elaina gigg
led. She giggled of all things. Her reaction was extraordinary, but from her perspective, the circumstances must’ve been hard to fathom. Basile found her informal way of expressing herself, as if everyone was a friend or a potential friend, both enchanting and alarming.

  Selena glanced at Basile out of the corner of her eye and murmured, “Just go with it, Prince.” She then looked directly at Lord Violet and added, “I wouldn’t rely too heavily on that weeks-long timeframe before he starts breathing fire. He’s growing extremely fast, even for his line.”

  “My thanks, enchantress,” Lord Violet replied and gave her a solemn bow, followed by a cheeky wink that made her chortle. She put her hand out so he could kiss it again, which he did.

  Elaina said, “Maybe when you come back I can do your nails?”

  “You’d do that for me?” Selena asked, looking shocked. “Really?”

  Elaina snickered and actually had the intestinal fortitude to take her hand and pat it. “I make your nails pretty. I help you get boyfriend.”

  Selena’s laughter swelled as she disappeared in a shower of sparks, saying, “Girl, you’ve got guts. I like you.”

  Chapter Five

  “Can you at least try to pronounce our names properly?” Bleu groused while eyeing the brown lump in his hand with typical suspicion.

  Rainger watched Elaina, sitting between him and Basile at the banquet table in the dining hall. Zayrgrud the Terrifying perched on her shoulder, his little wings pulled back tight and his tiny paws gripping her shirt and her hair while she fed him tidbits of meat. Across the way, the dog kept its distance as it watched the dragonling cautiously. In turn, Zayrgrud kept an eye on him.

  Rainger tried in vain to hide his enchantment at the odd things Elaina said, at the way she viewed his world, and he frankly marveled that she was, in her own words, “rolling with the punches.” And her laughter. Such a sweet enchanting sound.

  “I could try, Bleu the Irritable, but it’s so much more fun to mess with you.”

  “It’s irascible,” he said, emphasizing the French pronunciation.