Lucan

by Susan Kearney

  She tossed him a unisex tunic and his own slacks, both too thin for protection from the harsh elements. But as he retrieved his socks and boots, and she thrust a spare fur coat, gloves, and a hat at him, he wasn’t fooled by her practicality. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her motions were jerky, and clearly she was very upset. No doubt the fault was his. He’d been her first lover, and he’d hurt her. While he was far from proud of himself, how could he have resisted Cael after he’d awakened to find her naked and willing in his arms?

  While he wrapped the remaining meat in a pack, Cael, expression stoic, threw in a thermos and matches. She retrieved a rope harness from a niche and slipped it over her shoulders.

  “Come on. We can leave through here.” She headed deeper into the cave.

  He followed her down a long tunnel lit by sunlight that filtered in through slits cut into the marbelite walls. “Where’s this go?”

  “We’ll exit on the other side of the peak.” Her tone was flat, devoid of all emotion. “The mountain will block their radar from spotting us.”

  “How do you know?”

  She lifted an impatient brow. “I’m a military mediator. While I’m no expert, I’m not ignorant of their capabilities, either.”

  The passageway came to a T and she turned right. “I’m going to dragonshape, and I’ll have to fly fast and hard.” She twisted the rope, knotted it, and placed it loosely over her shoulders. “You need to tie yourself to me.”

  He recalled her steep dive, her powerful wings, and the speed with which she’d flown through the air. “Where are we headed?”

  “It depends on whether they spot us.” She turned a dark corner and continued through the tunnel. “We have to fly now. Every second counts. Those military ships are fast. If they pick me up on their radar, we’ll never get away. And your bulk isn’t much, but you’ll slow me.”

  Great. He’d made love to her, told her he wanted only sex, and now he was going to slow her flight, lesson her chances of getting away.

  He couldn’t let his guilt get in the way. It was time to leave and return to Avalon. Following Cael, he turned his thoughts to their escape.

  Lucan hoped Rion was an ally. Of all the scientists Lucan had met on Pendragon, Rion was the one man Lucan would like to believe they could trust. His call had ended abruptly. Was Rion in danger—or had he wanted to end the conversation before they asked more questions? “Why don’t we fly back to Avalon, locate Rion, and find out what he knows?”

  She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous to go to the city. I’ll need a well-thought-out plan and a place to stay before we can risk that route.”

  She jerked open a heavy wooden door. Following on her heels, Lucan skidded outside onto a rock ledge, where Merlin perched as if waiting for them.

  Immediately the air turned frigid and his breath frosted. Ice covered the mountaintops, and ancient glaciers gleamed a dark blue, their ice crystals sparkling in the occasional ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds.

  Cael removed her clothes, then stuffed them into a pack attached to the makeshift harness. On the icy cliff, her perfect pink skin looked delicate and ethereal. Hunger washed over him, and he felt an aching desire building inside him. Damn it. He didn’t have the right to look at her with desire. Not when he couldn’t stay, couldn’t be the man she needed him to be.

  Cael dragonshaped, morphing and growing scales in a mere instant. The rope harness expanded to fit the dragon, and she turned her massive head and nudged him toward her back.

  He grabbed hold of the harness and climbed on. His mental link with Cael connected almost instantly.

  Now! Hurry. We must go.

  As he straddled her sinuous shoulders, he knew she was going to take him on a ride of a lifetime. A ride that would save their lives. Filled with excitement, he slipped his feet into the stirrups, wrapped his hand into the harness, and hunkered down. He thought he was prepared to fly with Cael, but the sudden surge of her muscles as she leaped off the cliff was pure poetry.

  For a moment they hung in a perfect balance between cliff and sky. Then she plunged straight down, and a rush of adrenaline had him holding tight to the harness. Wind slammed his face. Forced to squint, he peered over her head and saw nothing but icy cliffs, snow, and Merlin keeping pace with their mad escape.

  As they dived, it began to snow. Fat white flakes stung his cheeks and coated Cael’s dragon scales.

  Hanging on to Cael became increasingly difficult. He struggled to stay upright and centered. His arms strained, his hold on the harness precarious as he fought to stay on her back. Breathing in the freezing, snow-filled air weakened him. To protect his face from the sting of the cold, he ducked his head and tried to draw in oxygen through the fur of his cloak.

  At the sudden menacing drone of machines, he risked a look over his shoulder. They’re coming.

  Be still, Cael’s mental demand sounded in his head, and he crouched lower.

  Fine. Cliffs whizzed by at dizzying speed. Snowflakes pelted his face. For a moment the world went gray. They’d flown through a cloud and had almost reached the next mountain, but he could hear skimmers in pursuit.

  He glanced back again. The sky was clear of skimmers. If she could make it around the bend, they’d stay out of radar range.

  She banked violently, tearing around a cliff face so fast he floated off her back, weightless, barely managing to hold on to the harness with one hand.

  I told you to hang on. She swerved back under him.

  I’m trying.

  Try harder.

  And she’d had the nerve to complain about his driving. Gritting his teeth, he settled onto her back, which was now icy and slick.

  The skimmers’ engines roared behind them, and the sound echoed through the mountain pass and down into the valley, so loud he was sure they had been spotted. The aircraft cleared the mountain peak behind them just as Cael careened around the last ridge.

  He breathed a short sigh of relief. I think we made it.

  Not yet, we didn’t.

  The valley below didn’t look that different from the mountain peaks. The entire mountain range was one giant ice ball of rock and snow. But the wind here didn’t cut so badly.

  He hunched down, trying to warm his face. When he looked forward again, Cael was flying straight at a black mountain cliff so steep that no snow or ice clung to its vertical sides.

  Cael, you need to turn!

  We’re on course.

  The only thing they were on course for was suicide. Again Lucan heard the roar of skimmers. They’re gaining on us.

  Cael continued straight toward the cliffside. Lucan tensed. As they neared the jagged rock, he could see more details. What had appeared at a distance as a monolithic solid surface was actually a rock face pockmarked with caves, their entrances so dark they were indistinguishable from the surrounding surface, like a geological hunk of Swiss cheese.

  She flew into the nearest aperture, one he hadn’t noticed until they were almost on top of it. He hoped the skimmers hunting them wouldn’t see it, either.

  He expected Cael to slow and land, but she flew through the cave until it widened into a gray lava tunnel with luminescent walls that threaded deep into the mountain.

  She flew him through the tunnel for what seemed like hours. He spied several connecting tunnels, but Cael never veered off course.

  Finally, they reached what appeared to be a dead end, and Cael landed gracefully. He slid from her back onto the tunnel floor, landing much less gracefully.

  She humanshaped, and he handed over her clothes, then folded the harness into the pack. He wondered if the skimmers could come roaring after them. “Does the military know about these tunnels?”

  “I hope not.” She dressed quickly. “Come on. After that flight, I need food.”

  TURNING DOWN A darkened passageway, Cael led Lucan to her storage alcove. She’d cached basic food supplies in canisters, along with communicators and blankets.

  “Do people come after
you often?” he asked, glancing around at her fully stocked array of supplies.

  “This is a first for me.” The first time the military had chased her. The first time she’d been accused of arson. The first time she’d made love. The first time she’d been rejected. The first time she’d felt as if her hearts were shattering.

  Lifting a hatch to a tiny cellar where she stocked frozen vegetables and fruit, she peered at her choices. But her mind wasn’t on meal preparation. Or how the supplies the Elders had instructed her to stock throughout the mountains were coming in so handy.

  Ever since Lucan had rescued her in the air duct, her life had been spinning out of control. She felt restless, edgy, and excited to be in the company of a man who treated her like an equal, but she hadn’t forgotten how much he’d hurt her. That he wasn’t ready to make commitments.

  Cael had been hurt many times in her life. When she’d gone to live with the Elders, and later, when her parents died, she’d cried herself to sleep every night for months. Even back then, she’d always wanted a friend. But everyone had feared her. She’d always been alone.

  Uncertainty hit her. She didn’t want to be alone again. Wouldn’t she be better off salvaging some sort of relationship with Lucan? They could be friends. Nothing more.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she corralled her swirling emotions. She looked up to see Lucan watching her and was acutely aware of the way his shoulders strained the fabric of his borrowed tunic.

  His steady gaze took her measure. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “For a moment there, you looked angry enough to blow smoke out your ears.” His mouth twitched.

  He was teasing. Sometimes he said the strangest things. But he’d also lightened the mood, and she laughed. “The smoke comes out of my nose.”

  He smiled, and she could sense he was relieved that she’d momentarily put aside her hurt feelings. Too bad his inherent kindness also cut deep, reminding her how much she yearned for more.

  He pulled the jasbit from the pack and lit the kindling in the woodstove, his movements unhurried, efficient. To keep from staring at all his rippling male muscles, she moved aside a folded blanket, found a pot, added water and vegetables, and began to slice the meat into smaller pieces.

  “So where are we?” he asked, turning his blue eyes on her.

  “Near Langor. It’s the city where the Elders have their retreat.” Cael faced him, ready to defend the destination she’d chosen. With her life at risk, she’d wanted to go somewhere safe. “I need to speak with my mentors…”

  “About?” He arched his eyebrow in that way he had that made her pulse skip a beat.

  Damn it. “The Elders advise me about many things.”

  He glanced at the communicators. “You don’t want to call them?”

  Call and ask why sharing her blood was taboo? She didn’t think so.

  “They’ll speak more freely in person.” And since Lucan hadn’t pressed, she shared one of her concerns. “I’m hoping the Elders might tell us more about General Brennon. Perhaps they might even help clear our names.”

  He stirred the stew with a firm and steady hand. “I thought Elders didn’t get involved in worldly matters.”

  “That’s what the general public’s supposed to think.” She tried not to recall his hands skimming up her body and over her breasts. How good he’d made her feel, but the memory made her tingle. She added the meat to the pot and focused on how well they worked together in the cramped area, easily dividing the chores.

  “Will the Elders welcome me to their retreat?” Lucan found two bowls. He blew out the dust, then used his sleeve for a final cleaning. A tiny smudge of dirt smeared his chin.

  Without thinking, she reached up and wiped away the streak. He tried and failed to block his emotions. She could feel his desire, but she knew he wanted only sexual gratification and jerked back her hand. “Once I tell the Elders you’re telepathic with my dragon form, they’ll be elated.”

  His eyes smoldered. “You don’t have a telepathic bond with anyone else?”

  “Only with you.” She stepped back, unwilling to admit how much their deep mental connection had surprised and unnerved her. She’d thought the telepathy was another sign they were meant to be together, but she’d been wrong. “I don’t understand how you were in my head like that.”

  He folded his arms and his forearms and biceps bulged. “You were in my head, too. When we communicate, can anyone else listen in?”

  She would never have thought of that. She’d assumed the mental link was unique to them. But she had to wonder at the odd coincidence that the one man who was not afraid of her also shared this mental link. Was it possible that he didn’t fear her because of the link? “Have you linked your mind with anyone else’s?”

  “My sister.” At the change of subject, he totally blocked her out, but she remained wary, sensing that like sparks amid dry kindling, he could flare up again at any time. “But Marisa lives too far away to reach from here.”

  Whenever he spoke of his family, his words were sparse and he raised an emotional barrier as solid as stone, making her suspect that he was hiding things.

  Were Lucan and his sister’s telepathic abilities the reason they lived in such isolation? Even if the siblings had perfect control, people could be cruel to anyone who was different, anyone who had powers they didn’t understand. Cael knew all too well that being different could be hurtful. The whispers, the talk behind her back. The isolation of never being included.

  “Are you the only dragonshaper?” He asked the question innocently enough, but she could feel muted tension beneath his words.

  Her mind whirled as she thought about how much to tell him. “Dinner’s ready.” She divided the stew into two bowls, poured them each some water into mugs, and sat down on a rock ledge.

  He carried his bowl and drink to another ledge. “Thanks.”

  Some information she could share easily enough. “According to ancient legends, there’s only one dragonnshaper on Pendragon at a time. When I die, the next dragonshaper will be born. Some say it’s the same spirit that is reborn, but… no one knows.”

  “So how does a dragon fly?”

  She went with the obvious. “Wings.”

  “Very funny.” He smiled, his grin charming. “Your wings aren’t big enough to account for flight.”

  “I also have two massive hearts and a honeycombed bone structure that’s strong but light.”

  “Yeah, but even with a skimmer-sized wing span and light bones, compared to any bird, your mass is proportionally high.”

  “Are you calling me fat?”

  “Your strength’s awesome.” He spoke with real admiration, his blue eyes bright with wonder, locking with hers. “Without your power of flight, we wouldn’t have survived. Beauty comes in many forms, and all of your shapes are beautiful.”

  Beautiful. She’d never been called beautiful. She shook the traitorous thought from her mind. “I also have a second pair of lungs. Lungs designed to expand with gas.”

  “Hydrogen gas?” he asked, his spoon stopping halfway to his mouth.

  “Exactly. Since hydrogen is lighter than air, when my lungs expand, they help keep me aloft.”

  “But where does the hydrogen come from?” The curiosity and warmth in his expression amazed her. Despite herself, her hearts fluttered.

  Usually she was uncomfortable talking about her biology, but with Lucan she sensed no censure. Instead of disgusted, he looked fascinated, which encouraged her to share more. “Bacteria in my stomach create the hydrogen and funnel it to my lungs.” Sometimes she ate pure hydrogen, when she could find it processed properly. “To keep up my hydrogen production and strength, I’ve always consumed three to four times the amount of calories of a normal woman my size. The more often I dragonshape, the more energy I use and the more food I must eat.”

  “How long can you go without dragonshaping?”

  She became terribly aware that hi
s fascination with her dragonshaping was causing her scales to tingle. “The longest I’ve ever gone is about one and a half cycles. But since I don’t mind the shape change or eating more calories, I frequently do it more often.”

  His gaze was thoughtful as he dipped his spoon back into the stew. She loved watching him eat. She recalled those lips nipping her ear, her neck, giving her so much pleasure.

  “I gather some of your information’s from experience, but if there are no written records, where did you learn all the science?”

  “I lived a normal life until age five. After I dragonshaped the first time—”

  “What was that like?” His eyes lit with curiosity.

  She ignored the sudden warmth flowing through her veins, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was up in the mountains, and my sister Nisco and I slipped off a cliff—”

  “You call that the best thing ever?”

  “I was terrified. Falling. Nisco was screaming, and the wind whipped through our hair. One moment I was a little girl, frightened and frail, the next I was this powerful dragon with wings. I could fly.”

  “And you saved your sister?”

  “Yes.” Her smile faded. “Nisco never treated me the same after that. There was always this awkwardness. Awe. Fear.” Was she revealing too much? She didn’t know. She only knew that she wanted him to understand who she was, what she was. “After that, I was separated from my family and moved into the High Priestess’s main residence at Carlane to study the ancient ways. I was trained in my duties.”

  “Your parents permitted this?”

  “My parents died in a skimmer accident when I was five.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She could remember them. Her mother a warm and melodramatic woman, her father loving and scholarly. “Everything changed after they died, but not just because of the accident.”