Zandra's Dragon: Dragons of Telera (Book 6)

by Lisa Daniels

  Bounding past snow drifts, which showered around them as he ploughed a way through, he then circumnavigated the frozen lake, paws padding confidently on the ground.

  All the while, as Raine pressed her face against his fur, she thought about the Shadow that talked, using her mother's dead lips to taunt her. The way her barrier had so mysteriously vanished, as if months and months of protection meant nothing.

  She'd been playing with fire, keeping that Shadow. She should have realized, the moment the blasted thing could talk, that something was up. But she'd made an assumption in her mind... oh, maybe Shadows can talk if they possess a human. Maybe that's why I've never seen one speak before, because I've never seen a human get possessed. Just eaten.

  Fool. Blasted fool. That thing, which she kept so merrily confined at the order of her mother, begging her to use her body for something good – contained power beyond anything Raine comprehended.

  No wonder the Shadows acted so keen to tease at her barriers on a half-moon basis, in-between her regular flow of customers and traders.

  Then those bandits. If she hadn't pushed herself too hard with the magic, maybe she would have been conscious enough to do something.

  They must have broken in, searched all the rooms, then came down to the basement. Then they saw the Shadow and my unconscious form. Then... I don't know what they thought. Maybe it pleaded for them to free it? Said I was trapping her unfairly?

  Small chance of that. She looked like a corpse.

  But they did release her.

  And with that release, Raine's former life had ended, just as it dwindled before, with the death of her mother.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and finally, the numbing sensation inside her that concealed everything else at bay, broke into tears, leaking out of her eyes and into the werewolf's mane.

  Shortly afterwards, a kindly, isolated werewolf and his wife, located in a small cabin hut provided the clothes. Raine eagerly dressed into them, whilst the elderly wife helped, her fingers expertly fitting on the clothes, before she invited Raine to warm herself up by the fire for a short while.

  Linther conversed with the elder werewolf, keeping his story short and lacking a whole lot of truth, and Raine merely nodded along to it. She did give them a tooth each in thanks for their assistance. Good deeds always needed rewarding.

  It surprised her to see the couple living far out from tribal protection, however. Wouldn't they struggle against the Shadows? When she raised her concern, Linther shrugged.

  “They're not that far out. There's a village about an hour's walk away from them.”

  “It's still dangerous, though,” Raine replied to Linther. “I think it's an unnecessary risk by them.”

  “It's their choice,” he replied, and that was the end of the matter. Now Raine wore warmer clothes, and no longer felt the icy chill of the Lunar Wasteland sneaking in for an attempt on her life, she was able to think clearly, even as she clung to Linther's broad back, as he bounded through the snow towards Lunehill in the brief sliver of daylight the wastelands offered. Pangs of guilt and a strong essence of dismay wrought her system. How could she not feel terrible, knowing everything was left burning into ash? Never mind the poor traders, the patrons and travelers who had relied on her little inn for years.

  She envisioned traders turning up, eyes bulging in disbelief at the sight presented to them. One source of income for them forever eliminated, one less little sanctuary in the wild north. She didn't have the means or material to rebuild. She didn't have anything.

  Except, well, her weapons and her rescuer, who loitered around the premises for the ulterior motive of escorting a witch to her new home.

  Lunehill. The place where the Queen once lived, and the Snow Witch resides. Could be a worse fate. Could be better.

  Night fell again, and she felt Linther tiring beneath her. Even a huge, magnificent creature like him couldn't keep up such a relentless pace for long, especially with someone on his back. He picked a secluded, well sheltered copse of wood, with a clear full of the half-moon above them in the canopy. The rabbit he had caught whilst on the run, with Raine still clinging desperately to his back, now lay before him. Morphing into human form, he set to skinning the beast, remarking that he only did this because she was a human. Otherwise he'd just crunch through it raw, no issues at all.

  “Yes, I'm sure,” Raine said, as she used residual magic, creating a marginal headache to tap at her skull, sparking up a fire. “And you'd probably poop as you run as well.”

  “I've tried. It's gross.” Linther grinned at her, his expression stopping her heart from beating for a moment. She reconsidered her earlier idea of inviting him to stay the night at the inn for a romp. Perhaps not in the middle of the darkness without some kind of magical barrier, however. She paced around their encampment now, expanding an anti-Shadow barrier with a prick of blood and a pouch of charcoal powder. She considered using the Shadow blood to strengthen it, but decided against wasting it.

  Not like I'll have my pet Shadow to extract the blood from, anymore.

  Linther observed her enchanting, impressed. “We have other werewolves seeking for witches or uninitiated human females, too. We certainly can do with more of your apparent talent.”

  “Why? You can cope against the Shadows as clans. You've never needed witches so badly before. Why would you risk incurring my ire just to lug me over to your town?”

  The werewolf narrowed his eyes. “Times are changing. The Shadow attacks grow bolder, more frequent, and with greater numbers than before. We had one battle in our town where they actually outnumbered us. It was only because of our Snow Witch that we beat back their numbers, but it's not good news, either way. The cold no longer keeps them behind the Fractured Spine.”

  “That's troubling.” Raine recalled the traveler who had come to her inn, the young girl with a face made out of steel. Straight out of the deep south, she'd stared around the heavily enchanted bar with suspicion and trepidation. Didn't get many southerners around these parts, less so because of their low tolerance to the cold. Not many southerners at all.

  She wondered how that southerner fared now. She didn't like the look of the trio who had offered to guide her across the wastelands to the Fractured City. Sure, some travelers might do it for the right price, but often or not, most sought to trick their charges one way or another.

  She considered Linther's dilemma. “Well, what are you doing about the increase in numbers, then? Have you been collaborating with the other clans? Have you been sending expeditions to try and find out what the moon is going on?”

  Linther placed the skinned rabbit upon a spit, tied by ropes and balanced between two y shaped branches. The flames crackled beneath the raw crimson carcass, giving it an eerie sheen. “We are asking around all the clans as of this moment, and others have been sending envoys to us. There's a plan in the works for a mass expedition for all the contacted clans.”

  “Good.” Raine nodded. “And about time. I for one would definitely love to know about what the Shadows are up to.”

  And maybe capture another one for myself, if I can.

  “I do have a rather interesting question for you, however,” Linther said, raising one eyebrow at his prospective witch, now wrapped up in solid, russet fur robes. “I could have sworn two things. There was a Shadow that talked, and it appeared to walk directly out of your inn, acting quite familiar with you.”

  “How close were you?” Raine said, aghast.

  “Not close enough. I came from my encampment when I saw flames coming from your direction. Otherwise I might have done some more on the situation.” He glared at her, dark yellow eyes suspicious. “I don't suppose you have any explanations for the talking Shadow business?”

  Raine shrugged, not wanting to admit she'd kept a Shadow in her cellar for years, draining it of blood to make super powered enchantments and to enhance her spells. Neither did she want to admit it was her mother's body being used. These happened to be the sort of thin
gs others might confuse good intentions with. “It was the first time I've heard a Shadow speak. I never knew they could before that.”

  “I don't believe you,” Linther said. “The Shadow recognized you. And you recognized it.”

  Raine sighed. She thought about the situation more. Technically, Linther carried her as a prisoner towards Lunehill with the sole purpose of integrating her there in the community, and to apprentice with the Snow Witch.

  They needed better defenses. They needed to find out what in sun and moon was happening in the Fractured City.

  They possibly needed her brand of magic.

  “I'll tell you, but you're not going to like it.” Raine fished out the vial of Shadow blood from her backpack, half full, and showed it to him. “This thing is the source of my enhanced magic. Why I make such good enchantments, weapons and armor. Why my protections are strong.”

  Linther scowled at the vial with the black ichor, before reaching over to turn the skinned snow rabbit over, the smell of burning flesh filling the atmosphere. “Go on.”

  “Traditionally, to make good spells, you need werewolf blood or witch blood. But you need to sacrifice a werewolf to create a sword with permanent magic in it like this, for example.” Raine held up her sabre, which gleamed with an eerie gray light. “Because you need heartblood. Normal blood is only good for enchanting something for a short period of time.”

  Something howled in the distance, mournful and high, which sent a tremor down Raine's spine. She shuffled closer to the fire, tucking the vial away in her backpack, hands shivering in the cold. She swiped off snowflakes catching on her gloves. Part of her didn't want to divulge the secret she treasured and experienced shame over. Part of her knew the chaos at the inn was her fault.

  She should have destroyed the Shadow a long time ago. A little late for that now, since she lived in the consequence of her mistake.

  “I kept a Shadow bound by strong protections for a long time in my inn. I extracted the black blood from it to see what it did for my spells, and... the magic was far more potent than anything I've seen. I stopped buying vials of werewolf blood, and using mine. Because that tiny little vial of ichor is the sole reason why my magic is so strong.”

  She expected Linther to shy away and snap at her in revulsion. Indeed, his lips curled up in an echo of disgust, but he kept himself calm enough to say, “I've never heard of that happening before. And the Shadow talked?”

  “Not for a while. Recently, it did. Never anything useful. Just curses, muttering at me, or mocking me.”

  “Why share this?” Linther tested the rabbit, gently turning it to redden one last node of flesh.

  “Because maybe your tribe might have a better time if you can capture one of the Shadows yourself, and use the blood. Instead of sacrificing witches and werewolves.”

  Why not share the information, really?

  Wasn't like she had anything to return to, anymore. They ate rabbit a short while later, and drank from water pouches, before attempting to settle down for some of the night. Without blankets, Raine shivered in the chill, until Linther morphed into his gray werewolf form and wrapped his huge body around her, allowing her to stay warm in his furry embrace.

  She didn't sleep well, and didn't expect to. Images of the burning building sprung to mind. The leering face of the Shadow. The loss of the home she and her mother once worked in.

  Raine focused a little on the mother she once loved. A woman with luminous hazel eyes, a lighter shade of brown, hinting at southern ancestry, and a firm confidence in running the frontier inn. Her father was a werewolf from the Dreadwood nomad clan, who dropped by the Blood Moon Inn every few months or so.

  The other Dreadwood wolves who came to deliver the news that her father died heroically in battle at the age of six made her proud, rather than sad. They also gave Yara, her mother, her father's heartblood.

  Yara did nothing else with it but keep it in a vial locket, and wore it around her neck, until the day the Shadows attacked her when on a pilgrimage to her father's resting place.

  She recalled how her dying mother asked for the barrier, asked for Raine to study her body after she died, because she could feel the Shadow creeping over her mind.

  These memories washed away in a blaze of fire, and Linther leaping to her side, hackles raised, snapping at the Shadows as she clambered onto his back, the flames giving his fur a reddish tint. The Shadow that talked did not seem perturbed by the rescue. It really didn't care if she lived or died.

  Accepting her life was over might be the hardest thing to do.

  Chapter Three

  They traveled like this for two days, as Linther ran towards the clan of Lunehill. He said it would be roughly three, perhaps four days, though spending several hours or more clutching at his back proceeded to bore Raine and give her ample time to think. She certainly needed the time, because the deeper they traveled into the Lunar Wastes, the more foreboding the landscape became.

  Truthfully, she just wanted to run an inn again. Maybe the Lunehill werewolves required an inn? Good luck then getting the border traders to travel into the wastelands.

  Linther still acted cautious of her vial, but he accepted her dark secret as another means to fight the Shadows.

  They stopped by a small lake for food, after finding a whole grove of ice berries growing by the banks. Raine handed him her weapons when he requested, before picking away at the berries, allowing their sweet blue juices to dribble down her throat. Linther sniffed at the crossbow, nostrils twitching as he scented the magic. “It may well be that we won't have time to sit around and scoff at every new method that comes along. Besides, Shadows don't seem to have feelings. They just exist. Kill. And populate.” He then inspected the sabre, hissing when he ran it over his finger, and it fizzled the flesh there.

  “Don't kill yourself, will you?” Raine said to him, as he held up the sabre. His affronted expression amused her and made her heart twitch slightly at the same time. “Moon knows there's enough death out here without you adding to the numbers.”

  “That's seriously potent!” Linther flinched from just touching the metal itself. “It doesn't even have to cut me. I can feel the danger in this magic. Hmm.” He appraised her. “You know, aside from the strong barriers, and the cool fires, are you basically a useless witch when you don't have Shadow blood?”

  “Not useless,” Raine replied. She flicked her red hair in slight protest. “I know all your basic protections. I just don't exactly have great tomes of knowledge casually lying around. Just what my mother taught me.”

  “Well. You should be in for a fun time with Garcia,” Linther replied, grinning, the look making Raine's blood pulse in excitement. “She can shoot lightning out her hands.”

  Raine considered the amount of energy a spell like that might require, and shuddered. Strong enchantments caused her head to practically explode. Forked lightning? Manipulating static electricity into a lethal form? She'd be dead a few times over. Or a gibbering ball of insanity.

  Know your limits, her mother used to say. Yes. Just like how she decided to bypass them to fully enchant the sabre.

  “I'm not sure if I want to do that. Sounds like too many things might go wrong. Like what if I accidentally fry you?”

  “If you can aim at a target with a crossbow, I assume you can aim with a little bit of lightning.”

  “Little bit, he says,” she muttered, chewing through more of the ice berries. He laughed and strode up to her, also sorting through some of the berries for himself.

  “Let's head off shortly. I'm getting a bad vibe about the place, though I can't put my finger upon it.”

  “This is the Lunar Wastes. Almost everything about it gives out bad vibes,” Raine pointed out. Linther rolled his eyes in response.

  Actually, Raine found the wastelands beautiful to some extent, though she wondered what once lay behind the grounds, and what the ruined buildings dotted over the landscape once looked like, instead of the derelict, haunted st
ructures they resembled today. Maybe it used to be a living land of cities paved with marble tiles and golden fountains. Maybe they had stairs that reached the moon, and more werewolves, instead of the fragmented clans that existed today.

  The few days of rest, only using her magic to light fires, helped Raine to recover mentally and physically from her magical error.

  The longer she traveled with Linther, the more attracted she felt to him. It was hard to not be attracted, really, with his impressive and virile male form. She found him easy to talk to, and during one day, when they stopped, rested and washed at a small house in the middle of nowhere, ran by a tough old witch, they decided to take advantage of the opportunity of a warm place to stay for some of the night – all for another one of Raine's enchanted teeth.

  “That old crone, seriously,” Linther grumbled, as he slurped at a good drink of water, sniffing at his fresh skin from having bathed. “Wouldn't accept fifty gold coins. Happy for one tooth.”

  “What use is she going to have for coin in the middle of nowhere?” Raine argued. “Unless she has such a massive stack hidden from us that fifty coins to her meant nothing.”

  Linther growled appreciatively at her form as she took off some of the fur robes, before he sighed and laid back on the bed. “Curse this attraction. All I'm supposed to do is escort you. Plus, I've technically kidnapped you. So I doubt you'll be seeking any kind of affection from me right now.”

  Raine smiled at him. “Don't be so sure about that. I might just welcome some uh, 'affection.'” To escape. To forget what she had left behind.

  She didn't know if she loved Linther, but she did see herself needing security rabid at the sight of a new female. If she needed someone to pair with, Linther certainly wouldn't be the worse choice around.

  He lifted one eyebrow, before sitting up. “Oh?”

  Raine examined him a moment. Then, she began taking off the rest of her clothes, in the tiny room with the flickering candles, mindful she might need to be careful not to make too much noise. In case the old witch downstairs happened to be listening. Linther's pale, thin lips stretched in a lustful smile, and his eyes dilated as he watched Raine strip off.