Lucan couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the history. Not even as he followed her flight, a real live dragon soaring across the sky. Even more amazing, he sensed her pleasure at being airborne. And her hunger.
Food. The clear and direct thought leapt from Cael’s dragon mind into Lucan’s as she swooped to a ledge and dug into the cliff. She ate a mouthful of dirt… and a strange metallic taste filled his mouth.
How was this possible? It was as if he were sharing her experience. And then he remembered his surreal flight from Avalon. Apparently his hallucination hadn’t been an hallucination at all. After the skimmer had exploded, Cael must have dragonshaped and flown him to safety.
While he’d had no telepathic link with Cael in her human form, he could read her dragon thoughts. Yet he could no more understand why he could communicate with Cael’s dragon than he could with his sister back on Earth. But as Cael left the metallic dirt and flew on in search of meat, a dark mass among the snowbanks caught her sharp eyes.
Food?
No food. Just a tree branch.
She flew onward, her thoughts linked to his.
There. Jasbit.
He watched her powerful wings adjust and she dipped, diving toward her prey. But he shouldn’t have been able to see her—not from this distance.
Between his enhanced eyesight and their shared telepathy, he wondered what exactly was happening. Was some force manipulating them? Or was it coincidence they shared this mental link?
Folding her legs and wings, Cael streamlined her body and dived straight for the animal she hunted. Plunging fast, her aim true, she seized the prey in her mouth, shook it hard. He heard, through their mind link, the snap as she broke its neck. And then with barely a break in her flight pattern, she opened her wings, caught an updraft, and circled back toward the nest.
With the meal clenched between massive jaws, she landed on the ridge, and he watched in fascination as her clawed feet gripped the icy ledge. She tossed her thick neck and flung the jasbit, a six-legged furry creature about the size of a deer, against a wall of rock.
Facing her prey, the dragon let out a mighty roar and then a burst of flame.
Once again she shapechanged, and, as the dragon folded in on itself, the mind link he’d shared with her snapped. In the blink of an eye, she stood before him naked, the blood on her lips the only sign of her predatory flight.
She shivered, raised her eyes to his, and cocked her head to one side. Lifting an eyebrow, she waited for him to speak, her expression as human as any woman’s, as vulnerable as any he’d ever seen.
Lucan picked up her robe, carried it to her, and draped the fabric over her shoulders. “I now believe in dragonshaping.”
“Good.” She snuggled into the warmth of the robe. He drew it tight against the wind, and her hand closed over his, her gaze challenging. “You could read my thoughts?”
“Not your thoughts. I heard what you broadcast.”
“How is that possible?”
“I’ve always had some telepathic ability. Apparently, your dragon and I are on the same wavelength.”
Her gaze searched his. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll roast you?”
He sensed her need for reassurance. And he didn’t need to be an empath to realize that although her chin was high and her shoulders squared, she was bracing for him to reject her. As much as it would be better for his mission to do just that, he couldn’t be that cruel. Not when his first instinct was to take her into his arms and kiss her from her gorgeous head to her beautiful toes.
He spoke lightly. “If you were going to cook me for your next meal, you wouldn’t have saved my life. Twice.”
“That’s true.” She stared at him, eyes still searching. He held her gaze, hoping she could read his emotions, which tended toward wonder and awe. But despite his words, she seemed uncertain and asked, “You really don’t mind I’m a dragonshaper?”
“Why would I mind?”
Relief softened her features, and a smile played at the corner of her mouth. When another shiver racked her slender body, he pointed to the door. “Come on, let’s go inside. Please.”
“But the jasbit—”
“You did the hunting, I’ll take care of the rest.”
She shot him a long, assessing look. He held her gaze, and she slowly released a pent-up breath. Finally, she pointed to a ledge above the cave’s entrance. “Make sure Merlin eats his fill.”
“Merlin?” He looked up to see an owl peering down at them. According to Arthurian legend, Merlin was the king’s advisor. “Did you say Merlin?”
“Yes.” She gazed at the owl fondly. “Thousands of years ago, one of my predecessors named him Merlin.”
“You’re saying Merlin is thousands of years old?”
She shook her head. “Merlin is always the name of the owl who befriends the High Priestess. Over the centuries there have been as many Merlins as there have been High Priestesses.”
“Are there legends about him?” he asked. Could one of this owl’s ancestors have been connected to King Arthur’s human advisor? In many Earth myths, Merlin had the ability to change into either a young boy or an old man. But Lucan had never heard of Merlin changing into an owl.
“Merlin’s known to be quite protective of the High Priestess.” Cael grinned and headed inside.
Lucan approached the jasbit, and Merlin flew down from his perch to supervise. Kneeling, Lucan removed a tiny laser from the toe of his boot and made a minor calibration adjustment. The laser hummed and emitted a beam sharp enough to cut open the animal. Within moments, he’d tossed the jasbit’s entrails onto a lower ridge for scavengers and washed the inside of the carcass with snow. Slicing off a good-sized chunk of meat, he set it aside. “Here you go, Merlin.”
The owl swooped down for his meal.
Merlin. Lucan supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by another link to King Arthur or the Holy Grail. But he was. Pendragon and Cael kept throwing surprises at him.
Especially Cael. What he’d learned about her fascinated him. But he couldn’t forget that his mission had to come first. Now that he was healed, he had to return to Avalon and resume his search for the Grail. He had to find that healing cup.
And once he did, he’d be heading home.
WEARING SLIPPERS AND A ROBE, Cael joined Lucan before the fire and tried to assume a casual demeanor. It wasn’t easy. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words since he’d witnessed her dragonshaping and they’d experienced that puzzling mental link.
Her empathic abilities told her that Lucan didn’t fear her, not even after he’d seen her in dragon form, but she didn’t know what he thought about what he’d seen. What he thought of her.
She watched curiously as Lucan leaned over the meat, his expression thoughtful. Surely he realized she could kill him with one flaming breath? Shove him off the mountaintop with one sweep of her giant wing? Then again, he was proving himself a man full of surprises of his own. Who would have thought a linguist could actually clean, spit, and roast game?
Or cook? He brushed a sweet sauce onto the meat, a recipe he had conjured from raw ingredients in her stash of supplies. “I’ve never smelled anything so tempting.”
His eyes brightened. “You must be starving.”
“Who taught you how to cook?”
“My folks.” Lucan added more coal to the fire. “When we were young, they took us camping. Dad taught my sister and me to hunt. Mom taught us to cook.”
She sniffed appreciatively. “I’m glad they did.”
Lucan’s curious gaze had fastened on her wrists. Her first instinct was to tug down the robe, to hide the marks that made others so uncomfortable. But Lucan had seen all her marks. And he hadn’t flinched. In fact, he’d licked his way up her body, cherishing the parts that made her different, bringing her such unimagined pleasures…
He took her hands, turned them palm up, and peered at her scales. “You were born with these?”
“Yes.”
“And exac
tly what do you believe about the Goddess?”
“That she gives life to all things. That we honor her by honoring the world of fire, air, earth, and wind. That if we don’t lead a life worthy of her principles, after death we return in a lower life form.”
“Reincarnation, huh? And if you live a life worthy of the Goddess, what then?”
“We reach the highest level of existence.”
“Which is?”
“Dragonshaper. Spiritual leader of Pendragon.” She shrugged and shot him a wry smile. “In truth, I’ve never believed I am holier than any other. I don’t really know why the Goddess chose to put her marks on me.”
Lucan tilted his head. “Have you ever heard of the Lady of the Lake?”
“Of course. We all learn about her as children.” She wondered at his question, as well as the sudden tension she felt radiating from him. “The Lady of the Lake was a High Priestess. She lived on an island surrounded by mist. One day, when the mist was particularly heavy, she became disoriented and ended up in another realm, where she lost her ability to dragonshape and her capacity to serve her people and the Goddess.”
He nodded, and she could feel him fighting to get his emotions under control. “So you enjoy serving your people?”
She raised an eyebrow and tugged the robe tighter at her waist. She was used to people putting up emotional walls so she couldn’t read them, but when Lucan did so, it made her anxious. “I enjoy blessing babies, safeguarding our culture, and protecting our heritage. That’s why I’m involved with the Avalon Project—that and the hope that finding the Grail will cure my nephew. I am honor-bound to try to heal the rifts between different factions of society. But not everyone upholds the ideals of honor and chivalry. Some believe them archaic. The fact that we’ve evolved so far from our roots is disturbing.”
“Honor. Chivalry,” he said, as if testing the words, tension drawing his mouth taut. “A woman like you deserves a man who can live up to those ideals. And I… am not that man.”
A wave of pain and anguish washed over her. Lucan’s pain and anguish. And she became terribly aware that he knew he was hurting her but doing it anyway.
Her gut twisted. “I don’t understand.”
He stood and threaded his hand through his hair. “I care about you, but I don’t want to mislead you,” he said gently.
Pain tore at her, but she kept her chin high. Despite her efforts at control, her voice cracked. “Mislead me?”
He tensed, the cords at his neck bunching. “I find you very attractive, physically, emotionally, and intellectually.”
“But?” she forced out the word, certain that what he said next would hurt, hurt worse than any tongue-lashing the Elders had ever delivered. Hurt worse than her sisters’ lack of affection.
He paced, a determined and frustrated energy in his movements. “Cael, we can’t have a future together. Not the way you want.”
“We can’t?” Pain settled in her chest, despair seeped into her bones, but she refused to break down in front of him. She’d been so hopeful that he would accept her dragonshaping, she hadn’t thought past that moment.
“My work’s very important to me.”
“So is mine. I don’t see how passion for our work relates to our passion for each other.”
A muscle ticked at his jaw, and a shadow crossed his eyes. But he met her gaze, and she saw so much emotion simmering there, resolve, sorrow, and banked anger. “I’m not ready to settle down.”
Now it was her turn to be shocked. He wasn’t ready? What the hell did that mean? That their pairing had been purely for pleasure? What if she’d conceived?
Damn him.
Her motivation had been pure. She’d given her body with high hopes and a virtuous spirit. If he hadn’t reciprocated, then he was not the man she’d thought him to be.
“I’m not rejecting you,” he added hastily. “I’m just saying… your expectations are different from mine.”
Her entire body began to shake. She was barely holding herself together. “You’re saying you don’t want a relationship?”
“I’m saying I can’t have a relationship. Not now.”
“If you only want recreational sex,” she threw the ugly words in his face, her mind spinning in bafflement at how she could have made such a huge mistake, “you’ll need to find yourself another woman.” Her voice was so tight it trembled with her fury.
He nodded gravely, his cheeks chiseled rock. “I understand.”
“So we’re done.” The finality left her angry, weary, and alone. Again.
She’d thought he’d wanted her. She’d felt his urgency, his hunger, and had assumed he wanted and felt the same things she did. Apparently she’d read him wrong. She knew nothing about relationships. He hadn’t wanted her—he’d wanted only her body, pure physical gratification. During her dragonshaping, she’d felt his mindlink. But she’d confused lust and telepathy for the beginnings of something deeper.
Had she seen what she’d wanted to see, or did he have feelings for her he hadn’t acknowledged—even to himself? She supposed it didn’t matter.
Wrapping her hands around her waist, she tried to contain the pain whirling inside her. She felt sick to her stomach, as if she were being ripped apart. She’d wanted to be treated like a normal person. Now she knew what normal rejection felt like, and she wanted to cry.
But she was the High Priestess. And the High Priestess didn’t let people see her hurting. Instead, she turned away from Lucan, and her communicator rang. The timing couldn’t have been better.
Lucan jumped at the ring tone. “Don’t answer that.”
“Why not?”
“It could be traced.”
What an odd notion. Cael had been briefed on all the newest military technology, and she’d never heard of tracing a call. “That’s not possible.” When Lucan didn’t contradict her, she opened her communicator, eager for the distraction. “Hello?”
“Lady Cael, this is Rion.” The astrophysicist from the lab, the man who’d helped Lucan build the laser, had survived!
“I’m so glad you made it out of the fire.” Relief, and hope that others too had survived, filled her.
“Thanks. Is Lucan with you?”
She frowned. How could Rion have guessed that she and Lucan were together? “Yes. I’ll put you on the speaker.”
“Lucan?” Rion’s voice was tense.
“Yes.”
“Military investigators are blaming you and Lady Cael for starting the fire.”
Cael looked at Lucan, expecting him to deny the accusation. He shook his head and placed his finger to his lips. Fine. She’d let him do the talking. For now.
“Why would they blame us?” Lucan asked calmly.
“You were seen leaving the lab together right before the fire. All the doors were locked from the outside, preventing people from escaping the burning lab.”
Cael gasped and raised her hand to her mouth.
“Only four of us survived,” Rion said. “You two, me, and Sir Quentin.”
Oh, Goddess. Everyone else was dead? She blinked back tears for those who’d died. Compared to the loss of life, her personal disappointments were inconsequential. She was the High Priestess. She had to rise above her own raw feelings.
“How did you and Quentin get out?” Lucan asked, his eyes narrowed.
“That’s not important. The military thinks you’re holed up in Cael’s mountain hideaway. If that’s where you are, you have to flee. Now.”
“We didn’t start the fire.” Stunned, Cael blurted the denial.
“Doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do,” Rion said. “My contact inside the Division of Lost Artifacts has told me that if the military arrests you, you won’t live long enough to prove your innocence.”
“What’s happening at Avalon?” Lucan asked.
“The ground continues to weaken. And Shaw’s suspicions about Quentin’s military affiliations were correct.”
“How do you know?”
“Quentin’s now openly admitting he works for General Brennon at the Division of Lost Artifacts.”
“You think Brennon ordered Quentin to start the fire at the lab so the military could take over Avalon?”
“As we speak, they’re hiring a new team to go forward with the project.”
“The shield’s still down?” Lucan asked.
“Yeah. But there’s another one inside. They’re talking about blasting again.” Rion sighed. “So far I’ve talked them out of it.”
“I should be there.” Lucan curled his hands into fists. He might not be able to commit to her, but she couldn’t doubt his commitment to finding the Grail. Not when determination rained from his every pore.
“You come back and they’ll arrest you. They may find you anyway. You have to get out of there.”
The line went dead.
“This makes no sense. How can they accuse us of arson? If you hadn’t talked me into going outside to look at Avalon…”
“We would have been killed, too.”
Horror filled her. Eighty people had died. “My people will never believe… we have to go back and set the record straight.”
A vow sworn before the Goddess reverberates through time and space.
—HIGH PRIESTESS OF AVALON
7
Lucan helped Cael to her feet. She looked pale, shocked, like she was about to faint. And she wasn’t thinking straight. “Didn’t you hear what Rion said? If the military kills us, we won’t be around to clear our names.”
Cael’s color began to return. “You believe Rion?”
Lucan wanted to, but he also had a lot of questions. Like how had Rion gotten out of the fire? How had he known Lucan was with Cael?
“If he’s wrong,” Lucan said, “and we leave, what harm will it do? But if they capture us, we have no proof of our innocence, no alibi. We need to leave, right now.” He could see the anxiety written on her face and, beneath it, the pain he’d caused her. Pain she didn’t deserve. A woman like Cael deserved a man who could devote himself to her happiness. Perhaps once, he’d been that man. But not on Pendragon. “We need warm clothing. Do you have any to spare?”
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