“That’s Nisco,” Cael said softly.
Lucan suppressed a murmur of surprise. Nisco looked nothing like Cael. The tall woman was a collection of sharp angles—square jaw, knobby elbows, and slanting eyes with slightly hooded lids. Her welcoming smile lacked warmth, and he wondered if Nisco resented not only the prominence, but also the beauty of her famous sister.
Normally, sisters would have hugged, but Nisco and Cael stood awkwardly apart in greeting.
“Nisco”—Cael picked up a sculpture of a dragon—“this is lovely.”
“Take it if you want.” Nisco gestured for them to enter her booth and turned her curiosity-filled eyes to Lucan.
Cael made introductions, and Nisco frowned. “You know they’re still looking for you.”
Lucan positioned himself at the front of the booth, stance wide, hands on hips. Several shoppers headed toward Nisco’s display, read Lucan’s body language, and moved on.
“We have to hide—which is why I need your help.” Cael lowered her voice and picked up another piece of sculpture. “Remember your friend Trelan?”
“The private investigator?” Nisco wiped her hands on her apron.
“Can you contact him?”
“I suppose. Why?”
“I want to find out everything there is to know about General Brennon. His family. His friends. His associates. His employees. And most especially anything having to do with Avalon and the Holy Grail.”
“General Brennon?” Nisco’s voice rose. She raised her palms and backed away. “He’s the head—”
“Keep your voice down,” Cael muttered. “I know who he is. His military skimmers poured an accelerant on the laboratory fire.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I believe Brennon started that fire as an excuse to take control of Avalon, but while they’re blaming me for arson, I can’t search for the truth. Will you help me?”
Several women shoppers ohhed and ahhed over Nisco’s sculptures. Paying no attention to Lucan, they shouldered past him into the booth.
“Yes. I’ll help.” Nisco looked nervously at Lucan, then at the shoppers, then back at Cael. “I’ll contact you if and when we find something.”
“Thanks. But you stay out of it. Let him do the work, and tell him that it may be dangerous.”
“That will make him all the more eager to—”
“Excuse me.” One of the shoppers held up a sculpted baby. “How much for—”
Shots rang out. The shopper spun, her eyes wide, a bloody wound in her forehead. She slumped to the ground, and the marketplace erupted with screaming people running for cover.
“Get down.” Lucan tackled Cael and Nisco. His sunglasses went flying.
The three of them fell and he rolled under a table, taking Cael with him. Nisco scrambled the other way.
“Let’s go.” He lifted a tablecloth and urged Cael to crawl to the next booth.
“Nisco—”
“She’s safer on her own than with us.” Lucan tugged Cael through one booth, then another. Sirens screamed. More shots were fired as people fled in panic.
When Lucan reached a roadside fountain, he peered into the street. A carriage stopped, and the driver opened a door, gestured for them to get in. Cael started forward, but Lucan tugged her back. He squinted in the dark. Something about the driver looked familiar.
“Get in.”
“Rion?” Lucan lunged to the carriage, but he didn’t get in. Instead he peered inside, checking it, but it was empty. “What are you doing here?”
“Two soldiers followed you through the market.” Rion opened his jacket and revealed a weapon. “I got one of them. The other’s still out there. You want a ride or not?”
“Yes, thanks.” Cael jumped into the carriage. “Can you take us to the Elders’ retreat?”
Lucan followed. “Why are we going to the retreat?”
“The retreat is a sanctuary. General Brennon won’t dare come after us there.”
Lucan suspected Cael had other reasons for heading to the retreat, but he didn’t press her. With the military moving into the city, she would know better where to hide than he.
Rion rode outside, so they had no way to converse. As Rion drove them through the market, Lucan peered out the window, careful not to show his face, especially when he spotted a platoon of soldiers marching in from the opposite direction. “I’d love to know how Rion just happened to show up at the right time and place to offer us a ride.”
“If Rion hadn’t warned us the military was after us, we would never have made it out of the nest. Now he’s rescued us again. Surely that means he’s on our side.”
Lucan didn’t reply. He had a feeling Rion was on Rion’s side. Whether he was with them or against them remained to be seen.
Rion turned off the main road into a private driveway. The stately trees and well-trimmed shrubs created an oasis of calm that contrasted with the busy market they’d just left. The splashing sounds of the fountains that lined the drive added to the serenity.
When Rion stopped at an imposing solid steel gate engraved with a dragon, wings unfurled in full flight, Cael looked back and gasped. “Soldiers are violating the sanctuary. They’re following us.”
Apparently Brennon was daring to risk the Elders’ displeasure. Was he growing more desperate? Or did he simply not fear what the public thought?
Rion tipped his hat and gestured for them to exit the carriage. Cael hurried toward a kiosk by the gate and stepped inside. Lucan turned to Rion. “What’s happening at Avalon?”
He watched Cael lean into a monitor, give her retinal scan, and return to his side. Reacting to the scan, the gates swung wide.
Rion frowned. “The military have opened a few feet of subterranean tunnel. They’ve found nothing.”
“The sinkhole?” Cael asked.
“Its edges are crumbling faster than ever. We’re running out of time.”
Behind them, soldiers pounded down the long drive and shouted for them to freeze. Rion clapped Lucan on the shoulder, his expression serious. “Go.”
They still had a few seconds before the soldiers were in weapon range. “Who are you working for?” Lucan asked.
Rion grinned. “I’m on General Brennon’s payroll.” Then his smile faded, and he turned toward Cael. “And Lady Cael, you need to beware of a traitor.” He pressed a blaster into Lucan’s hand. “Watch out for the Elder.”
“HALT.” THE APPROACHING soldiers aimed their weapons at Cael and Lucan.
“Go.” Lucan shoved her through the gate, slipping in after her seconds before the gate closed behind them.
A white-robed assistant waited on the other side. “Do you seek entrance, my lady?”
“We do.” Cael stepped forward, her hearts slamming her rib cage. It wasn’t fear of being shot that had her nerves tense, but Rion’s warning that an Elder might betray her.
“Please come with me.” The assistant led Lucan and Cael over a winding path, the stones worn smooth over the years by the feet of believers who’d come to the retreat seeking prayer or solace. Wind chimes tinkled in the breeze. The tree fronds rustled, and the scent of flowers soothed Cael’s ragged nerves. Darkness had fallen, but soft lighting illuminated the landscape, creating an aura of peace and encouraging prayer.
The path ended at an open pavilion. Cael and Lucan followed their guide up the stairs and onto a platform furnished simply with benches and cushions.
“My lady.” The assistant bowed. “Please wait here and help yourself to refreshments.” He indicated a tray of pastries, meat, and cheese on a nearby bench. In addition, two bottles of blue wine nestled in a silver bucket filled with ice.
“Thank you.”
The assistant left, and Cael removed her hat and scarf, tossed her sunglasses onto the table. “The Elders often eat outside, but it’s odd we’ve been left here instead of being ushered to the Great Hall to greet everyone at once.”
“Something’s wrong,” Lucan sighed. After sniffing
a pastry, he popped it into his mouth.
“Glad to see your worries haven’t affected your appetite.”
“I’m starving—all the time.” He gazed at her as if she were a tasty morsel and held out the tray. She took a piece of cheese.
Suddenly, Lucan stopped eating and, for no reason she could understand, his lower jaw dropped and his eyes widened.
“What is it?” she asked, looking behind her.
“I see purple marks at your neck.”
“Yes?”
“I see your eyelashes. And the tiny mole by your ear.”
“And?” She dropped her gaze, her hearts beginning to beat faster as he boldly raked his gaze over her.
“I’m not wearing my prescription glasses.” Lucan reached up to his eyes in wonder and stared across the garden. “How is it that I can see tiny lichens growing in the rock crevices over a hundred feet away?” He sniffed. “And not only can I smell the meat in this pastry, I can differentiate the individual ingredients in the sauce, each as distinct as if I’d tasted them one by one.”
Her hearts fluttered again, but this time the sensation she felt was dread, not excitement.
He spread his arms and lifted his gaze to the sky. “I can measure the quantity of moisture in the air, feel the texture of every thread in the cloth against my body.”
“Maybe you’re just exhilarated, your senses heightened because of the danger.”
“My God… I can hear Merlin breathe.” With one glance he spied the owl, perched in a nearby branch. Lucan pinned her with a hard look. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” But she feared she did, although the thoughts racing through her mind chilled her blood.
“I wish I had a mirror to see if I look as different as I feel.” Lucan narrowed his eyes. “What kind of medicine did you give me while I was unconscious?”
“I didn’t give you medicine.”
“Then how did I heal so quickly?”
“I cleaned your wounds. I stopped the bleeding. You were very weak. Your body temperature was low. You’d lost so much blood.” Stomach churning, she set down her half-eaten slice of cheese. “I gave you a transfusion.”
“Your blood?”
She nodded, chewed on her lower lip, and stole a look at him.
The color washed out of his face. “You gave me dragonblood?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve told you this before.”
His face was stony with anger. “But I didn’t know then that you could morph into a dragon, and you didn’t explain the significance… that you’ve altered my DNA.” He clenched his hands into fists. “You could have killed me.”
She grimaced. “There wasn’t much life left in you to lose. You were dying.”
He scowled at her, his frustration evident. “Why didn’t you just take me to a medical center?”
She unfolded her arms and stroked her necklace. “Because when I’m a dragon, I think like a dragon. We were being hunted by the military. Shot at. Instinct took over, and I flew to the nest as fast as I could.”
He leaned against a tree trunk and crossed his ankles, but there was nothing casual about his smoldering fury. “So what’s going to happen to me?”
His anger pounded her until her temples throbbed. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice a pained whisper.
“You don’t know?” He shook his head. “My entire body’s changing.”
She stepped toward him and spread her hands in entreaty. “Are seeing and smelling better and healing faster such bad things?”
He gave her a long, heated look. “When we made love, I couldn’t control myself. Was that because of the dragonblood?”
“It’s possible.” Goddess help her. She went icy cold, then flushed hot.
At her admission that the dragonblood might have made him lose control, his nostrils flared. She sensed him reining in hard on his anger. “Will I grow wings? Will I breathe fire?”
As far as she was concerned, he was already breathing fire. His anger and sexuality blasted her. Her scales tingled. But after one burst of pulse-jarring emotion, he had snapped up a barrier that blocked her from reading emotions.
“I couldn’t let you die.” She trembled from the aftereffects of his roiling emotions. “But the Elders never told me what would happen if…”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. The cords of his neck tensed. “You really don’t have any idea what you did to my genetic code, do you?”
She raised her chin. “As far as I know, no dragonshaper has ever given another person blood. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to speak with the Elders. But they aren’t going to be happy that I broke their most sacred taboo.”
Radiating tension, he advanced on her until they were only inches apart. He lifted her chin with his fingertips, forcing her to look into his unfathomable eyes. “What kind of penalty will you suffer for breaking the taboo?”
“I don’t know.” He was furious with her. Could he truly be worried about her safety? “This is new territory for me, too.” She didn’t mention that the Elders had warned her that dragons who broke taboos didn’t live long. Too often, believers rose up and killed them.
He smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “We don’t need to tell anyone that you gave me your blood.”
Once again he was protecting her, and his generosity shocked her. “But the Elders might have answers about what’s happening to you.”
“I don’t want to put you at risk to get me answers.”
Her communicator hummed. She looked down. “It’s Rion.”
Rion’s voice came over the speaker. “The military’s now blaming you and Lucan for Sir Shaw’s murder.”
“We’re being accused of murder?” Cael locked gazes with Lucan, so stunned she felt faint. “That’s crazy.”
Lucan lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you so surprised?”
Suddenly she grew lightheaded and nearly dropped the communicator from her trembling hand. “People won’t believe that I’m a murderer.”
Rion spoke quickly. “Brennon has proof. Yours and Lucan’s fingerprints are all over the knife they found in Shaw’s back.”
“We can explain,” Cael argued, her stomach queasy. She was a physician. She’d taken sacred vows to cure, to aide, to heal. It was an offense against the Goddess for her to kill.
“Perhaps putting doubts about you into people’s minds is Brennon’s primary goal,” Rion suggested.
“But why would anyone…”
“You’re a powerful woman,” Lucan agreed with Rion. “Discrediting you gives you less respect, less power. If you speak publicly about Avalon or the Grail, no one’s going to care about a murderer’s opinion.”
Cael frowned. “We have to clear our names. And since we didn’t murder Shaw, we need to find out who did.”
Rion spoke fast. “We have to meet and talk.”
“What’s wrong with right now?” Lucan was clearly frustrated with so many questions and so few answers.
The line went dead. Cael looked at Lucan. “Should I call back?”
Lucan shook his head. “He might have unexpected company. Our call might put him in danger.”
“So now you think he’s on our side?”
“Although he’s admitted to being on Brennon’s payroll, I think he’s helping us. Why is the question.”
Cael slipped her communicator back into her pocket. “We’re not murderers. I’ll go down fighting before I allow this defamation.”
Lucan gave her a long, level look. “Proving our innocence may not be possible.”
The Goddess demands punishment for breaking a taboo. And the Elders are the keepers of the law.
—THE ELDERS
9
The Elder’s assistant returned. “Elder Benoit will see you now. Come with me, please.”
Cael nodded, her face pale, her eyes large and darkly luminous. When she became passionate or upset, the purple in her irises expanded. Right now, only a tiny sliver of white remaine
d.
Her alien biology should have alarmed him, but Lucan found it sexy as hell. He cursed and reminded himself that he’d be leaving Pendragon after he found the Grail. He needed to keep his distance, keep his focus.
After leaving the pavilion, they followed the Elder’s assistant along the stone pathway through a stand of ancient evergreens. Dumaro’s crescent had risen, and as they left the shadow of the trees, the planet lighted the vista that opened before them. The familiarity of the image took Lucan’s breath away. Across a wide meadow in the center of an island in a serene lake stood the main building of the Elders’ compound. Constructed of native stone, its high crenellated walls and soaring towers bedecked with dragon pennants could have been Cadbury Castle itself. The trio took the path across the meadow to a stone bridge that crossed the lake and led to the open gates of the castle.
After they passed through the massive gates, Lucan stopped to take in the view before him. The Great Hall stood opposite the gate in a large courtyard that in medieval times on Earth would have housed stables, livestock, and the hovels of peasants. In the Elders’ retreat, however, the open space was a well-tended, tranquil garden, constructed around a marble fountain. Small individual dwellings nestled against the interior walls.
The assistant led them into a cozy one-room building nearest the Great Hall. The interior was dimly lighted and sparsely furnished, with an intricate screen hiding what Lucan assumed was a sleeping area.
The assistant withdrew, and a tiny woman with many wrinkles and sharp, sparkling gray eyes motioned Cael and Lucan to cushions before the fireplace, where a blazing fire chased the night chill from the room.
The old woman spoke in a cordial but fragile voice. “Greetings, Lady Cael.”
“And you, my favorite Elder.” Cael dipped her head. “I’d like to present my friend Lucan Roarke.”
He bowed his head.
Elder Benoit walked with a cane, and her hands trembled. Her pale gray skin and physical infirmity indicated she was not long for this world.
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