“Stay. Away. From. My. Man.”
She punctuated each word with a shake, her fingers digging into my shoulder blades. For a moment, her tenacity actually frightened me—she was like a rabid dog frothing at the mouth, ready to tear into my arm and give me rabies if I so much as looked at her the wrong way.
And then I laughed.
Aria pulled her fist back to hit me, but I slipped out of her guard, and her fist crashed into the wall instead. “Do you think this is funny?” she snapped. “Do you think that it’s amusing to waltz into someone else’s relationship that you know nothing about and break them apart?”
“Oh honey,” I cooed, putting on a sugary-sweet drawl just because it would drive her bat-shit crazy. “If Jallis was yours, if he truly loved you, he wouldn’t even bother to look twice my way. It’s not my fault you lost him. You did that all by your loathsome self.”
Aria lunged for me, but I sidestepped her once again, then threw one of my smoke bombs to the ground. She sputtered as the thick, black smoke filled her vision. As I skipped past her, I was tempted to trip or shove her, to get her back for the throbbing headache I’d undoubtedly be feeling later.
But just because Aria wouldn’t hesitate to push me off the edge of a cliff didn’t mean I had to sink to her level. With my head held high, I walked out the door and into the dying sunlight, leaving her to choke on her rage in the dark.
14
I didn’t tell Jallis about my encounter with Aria. Since I had escaped unscathed, I didn’t see any point, and besides, the last thing I wanted was for him to be thinking about his ex while we were together.
“This is so amazing,” I sighed, leaning back against his chest as we soared through the clouds. “I can’t wait until Lessie is big enough for us to do this together.”
“I can’t either,” Jallis said. His left arm was snug around my waist, his right loosely gripping the reins of his mount. I gently traced the green-scaled vambrace on his arm, marveling at the construction. The armor was crafted to be light and flexible, but with enough resistance to provide adequate protection from arrows or blades. When one added dragon scales on top, it was nearly impenetrable. “Kadryn and I are going to have a ton of fun teaching you two all our tricks.” Kadryn gave a rumble, and Jallis added with a hasty laugh, “Well, maybe not all of them. Got to keep one or two around, to impress the ladies.” He winked.
I smirked. “How long did it take you to collect this many scales?” I asked, turning to trace the ones on his chest. A dragon rider used the scales from his own dragon to reinforce his armor—the older the rider, the more scales he usually had. Jallis had around twenty scales that were roughly the size of my hand, most of which covered his chest and abdomen. But he also had a handful of tiny ones, and these he used on the backs of the fingerless leather gloves he wore.
“About five years,” Jallis answered. A fond smile lit his face as he looked down at his hand. “These are from when Kadryn was small—smaller than even Lessie. He was suffering from a peculiar affliction that made his scales fall off, and it took us a long while to find a proper ointment to treat it. Usually dragons only lose a few scales a year.”
“I know.” I’d learned as much from the husbandry classes I’d taken. Ever since I learned how the armor was made, I faithfully searched Lessie’s stall and inspected her hide every day for loose scales, but she’d only shed one, roughly the size of my pinky finger. I’d kept it, and I was glad of it now. If Jallis could make use of his dragon’s baby scales, then so could I.
“Cadets usually get fitted for their armor once they’ve reached level two,” Jallis continued. “It took me two and a half years to get to that point, but I have a feeling you’ll be going for your fitting in no time.”
He gave me a lopsided smile, but I could tell there was a tinge of envy in his green eyes. “I could stand to wait awhile,” I said, and I meant it. “The armor is gorgeous, but I’m not in any hurry to make use of it.”
Something that looked almost like disapproval flickered in Jallis’s eyes. But before he could say anything, we passed through a cloud, and a floating island came into view.
“There it is,” Jallis said, pointing ahead. “What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathed, immediately transfixed. I’d expected something more like Tavarian’s island, vast enough to support an entire village, but Jallis’s family island was more like a tiny slice of paradise. Lagoons and waterfalls were tucked into the lush, mountainous landscape, and at the very top was a castle of limestone and silver, its turrets molten in the waning sunlight.
“How do you ever leave home?” I asked, genuinely awestruck. Jallis laughed, but the sound was snatched away by the roaring wind as Kadryn dove, coming in hot for his landing. We touched down right outside the small stables behind the castle, and Jallis hopped down before helping me to the ground.
“I suppose I take it for granted,” Jallis said sheepishly, sweeping his tousled hair back from his face. “And though I love my parents, they’re quite demanding, so it’s not always fun and games hanging around here. But like I said, we’ve got the place to ourselves. So there’s no one to stop us from enjoying it to the fullest extent.”
He gave me a boyish grin, tinged with just a hint of mischief, and I laughed. “All right, Sir Jallis,” I said as I took his hand. “What sort of trouble are you thinking we might get up to?”
“All kinds,” he said. “But I find it’s better to get the lay of the land first. Let’s start with a tour of the house, shall we?”
We headed into the “house” and were greeted cordially by an elderly man in coattails, who I assumed was the majordomo. He offered to have the cook bring out tea and cakes for us, but Jallis took me on a grand tour of the castle instead, taking me through dozens of rooms, galleries, and hallways. I could tell that the castle was centuries old, but it was well-maintained and appointed with thick rugs and luxurious furniture imported from all sorts of countries.
“This is the armory,” Jallis said, leading me into a large room. Mannequins and display cases lined the walls, sporting a variety of weapons and armor. “My ancestor, Taros, wore this armor when he fought alongside Akron the Defender.”
“Wow.” Awe filled me as I stared up at the armored suit behind the glass case, displayed by the mannequin. The Lyton family sigil—a gold dragon wreathed in flames—was emblazoned on the chest, and the armor was plated with ruby-colored dragon scales that shimmered with blue iridescence. “This is incredible. Do all houses have these? The armor that their founding ancestor wore during the Dragon War?”
“Not all of us,” Jallis said. “Some of the original riders chose to be buried with their armor. But Taros decided to leave it here as a kind of heirloom. My grandfather thought it acted as a talisman, and that so long as it remained here, our house would stay strong.”
“Huh.” I wonder if Tavarian had one.
I walked between the various display cases, admiring the contents within. As I approached the left wall, something tugged on my senses, and I found myself drawn to a glass case full of daggers.
“What is this?” I asked, pointing at one of the weapons. It looked like a double-bladed spear, with a silver handle in the middle. There was a groove in the handle that looked like it had once held some kind of mark or sigil, and my fingers itched to open the display case and examine the weapon.
“That? Oh.” Jallis leaned in. “It’s a dragon blade. An old, magical weapon that dragon riders used to wield. Most of them were lost after the Dragon War, but we managed to hold onto this one. Would you like to see it?”
“Please.”
Jallis gently lifted the glass, then took the blade from the velvet pillow it sat on and handed it to me. The moment I gripped the handle, a surge of energy ripped through me, and I gasped.
“Whoa!” Jallis leapt back as the blades on either side shot out. They had been short, only four inches each, but now they were nearly a foot long. “How did you do that?”
/> I spun the weapon in my hand, making the blades flash through the air. “I don’t know.” There was something about the weapon that felt natural, almost as an extension of myself. “Can I undo it?”
“I…I don’t know.” Jallis looked extremely unsettled. “The blade has never done that before. Not even when my father picked it up.”
“Huh.” I looked down at the blade again. Please change back, I thought, a little anxiously. I didn’t know how I was going to fit it back in the case if it stayed this size.
To my surprise, the blades immediately shrank down to their original size. “Whoa!” I jerked, almost dropping the weapon. “Is…is it supposed to do this?”
“I think you should put it back,” Jallis said shortly. His normally expressive eyes had shuttered, and his jaw was clenched. “It’s not a toy to play with, Zara. This has been in my family for centuries.”
“Right. Sorry.” Chagrined, I carefully replaced the weapon in the case. I didn’t have to use my senses to know that it was probably priceless. Of course Jallis didn’t want me playing with it.
“It’s okay.” Jallis blew out a breath, then gave me another one of his sunny smiles. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just that my father would kill me if we broke or damaged anything.”
“I totally get it.” I gave him an understanding smile. “Let’s just forget about it and continue with the tour.”
“Excellent idea.”
Jallis took my hand, and led me down the hall and up a set of stairs. “I think you’ll enjoy this next room,” he said, opening a set of double doors.
I went stock-still as we stepped into a library with cavernous ceilings and rows upon rows of bookshelves. The familiar scents of parchment and ink and old leather bindings filled my nose, but unlike Salcombe’s library, which was dark and secluded, this one featured a row of sliding glass doors on the far wall that let in plenty of light. The bookshelves were angled in such a way as to protect them from the sunlight streaming in through the glass, and beyond that was a wide veranda with lounge chairs and tables, where one could take a book outside and enjoy it with a cup of coffee or a slice of cake.
“Ohhhh.” I stepped farther into the library, my boots sinking into plush carpet. “I think this may be my favorite space so far.”
Jallis chuckled. “I thought so. When I saw you in the library that day, when we went on our first adventure, you looked right at home even though you were probably cramming for a test.”
“I was cramming,” I said, and the memory of what I’d been researching brought back all my worries again. I approached one of the bookshelves, running my fingertip across the leather spines, but this particular shelf was filled with books on botany—hardly helpful for my predicament.
“Jallis,” I said, slowly turning to face him. “Have you ever heard any legends about the World Eater’s heart?”
Jallis frowned. “It sounds familiar,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Someone mentioned the story to me, and I was curious as to why there’s no mention of it in the history books,” I said. “I went to the library and couldn’t find anything more than vague references.” I’d also tried breaking into the restricted archives section after hours, hoping I might find answers there, but I’d nearly been caught when a professor had come in to fetch a book for himself. I hadn’t worked up the courage to try again yet—I needed answers, but I also didn’t want to risk getting kicked out of the academy either.
“Yeah, I think historians deliberately dance around the legend, possibly because most riders consider it a myth rather than fact.” Jallis tapped his chin thoughtfully. “My family has some older tomes in our collection that might have answers, but they’re in Old Elantian, so I’ve never been able to read them.”
“Can you find them for me?” I asked, hope surging in my heart. Finally, my years of studying old languages would come in handy around here! “I think I can translate.”
Jallis led me to a locked cabinet in the back of the library, tucked far from the sun’s prying eyes. “Damn,” he said as he tried several keys on his ring. “I think I gave the key back to my parents.”
“No worries.” I fished my lock pick out of my jacket pocket, and easily opened the cabinet. “There, we’re in.”
“No kidding.” Jallis raised his eyebrows. “You’re full of surprises, Zara.”
He sounded impressed, but there was also a wary look in his eyes, as though he’d opened a treasure box and found more than he’d bargained for. “I’m a treasure hunter, Jallis,” I said lightly as I gently picked up an armful of books. “Sometimes we need tools like this to get into locked places.”
“Ah.” His face cleared. “That makes sense.”
An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake getting involved with Jallis. What would he think if I told him the truth about how I’d come by Lessie? If I told him I’d spent most of my life as a thief?
“Are you okay?” Jallis asked as we set the books down on a table. “You seem stressed out again.”
“No, I’m fine.” But I wasn’t, and I felt like a total idiot. I’d let my guard down around Rhia when I’d told her the truth, and I was lucky enough that she’d accepted me anyway. But I was a fool to think Jallis would be the same. He was the handsome golden boy from the perfect family, and I was…well, me. The outcast. The misfit. The girl with one foot on the ground and the other in the sky.
“Zara.” Jallis closed the distance between us, and he touched my cheek with his hand. The tender look in his eyes tugged at my heartstrings, threatening to undo me. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help you.”
There was no way I could tell him the truth. “Jallis—”
Before I could finish my protest, Jallis hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me to him in a slow, easy kiss. The moment his mouth met mine, that easy warmth slid through me, smoothing away the knot of tension in my chest and filling me with desire. Jallis smelled like alpine air and wood smoke, and his lips were soft against mine. He felt safe, comfortable. Like someone I could count on.
But I’d never been able to count on anyone. Not fully. Even Carina, my closest friend, wasn’t fully reliable, not with that pain-in-the-ass brother of hers who was always throwing a wrench into things. In the end, everyone had their own agenda to take care of. And so did I.
Eventually, I pulled back to look up at him. “What was that for?” I asked, tracing the line of his jaw with my thumb.
“I was trying to distract you from your protest.” A slow smile curved his mouth. “Did it work?”
“A little.” I laughed as I turned to look at the pile of books on the desk. “You must think I’m crazy, wanting to sit down and pour through these books when we’ve got this entire castle to ourselves.”
“Not crazy,” Jallis said. “Just set in your ways. You’re a treasure hunter, Zara,” he said before I could protest. “Of course you’re interested in history and lore. And if you need to find this piece of history to settle whatever question is on your mind, I’m more than happy to help you find it.”
I shook my head. “You’re too damn nice,” I told him. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I can be less nice.” He backed me toward the wall, sliding a hand up the back of my neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of my skull. The warmth that rushed through me as he tilted my head back and nipped at my jaw was less comforting this time—the hungry edge to it made my clothes feel too tight on my body.
“You can be less nice later,” I said, pushing him away gently but firmly. “For now, work.”
Jallis groaned, but it was a playful sound. The two of us set to work, sorting through the books. Jallis’s Old Elantian was very rudimentary, but he had enough of a grasp to help me separate out those texts that had nothing to do with what I was looking for.
“Here,” I said after nearly an hour. The sun had disappeared from the horizon, and we’d lit the gas
lamps tucked into sconces on the walls. The glowing lamps cast flickering shadows on the wall, like ghostly fingers reaching out from the great beyond. I shivered a little as I pointed to a passage. “I think this is it right here.”
“What does it say?” Jallis leaned forward eagerly to peer at the page. He squinted to make out the words in the lamplight. “Something about…mages?”
I nodded, then began to translate. “The passage says that once the dragon god was stripped of his lieutenants and in possession of only a fraction of his army, he began to weaken. Akron the Defender set a magical trap for the dragon, and once they had him, they worked together to sever his limbs and head from his body, and to burn the individual parts to ash so that he could not heal himself again.
“However,” I went on, dread coiling in my stomach, “even rending Zakyiar limb from limb was not enough. Though most of him was able to be destroyed, his heart, a great, black diamond the size of a small boulder, remained. No fire or forge or hammer could destroy it, as it was an object of magic, and only magic could unmake it.”
“Huh.” Jallis was frowning now. “I’m guessing the mages weren’t able to destroy it either, though, even with magic.”
I shook my head. “Those who would have been powerful enough to do so had already been slain by the dragon god.” I kept reading. “It says that the five strongest families left were able to separate the heart into five separate pieces—and that each piece has enough raw power in it to level an entire city.”
Jallis shuddered. “That’s far too much power for any one man to hold. How did the mages manage to resist using it?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “It says here that the pieces were all sealed away, but it doesn’t say how or where.” I read the next line, and an icy shiver skittered down my spine. “It does say that if three or more pieces of the heart are reunited, the dragon god’s spirit can be called forth from the land of the dead, and that if all five are fused together, his body can be resurrected.”
Call of the Dragon Page 17