He smiled, relieved they were indeed awake. After another moment the large stone slab groaned loudly and with a shower of dust, began to roll back.
“Now, who in the blazes of the Nether Worlds would be…”
The words stopped as a short female stepped through the slowly widening gap. Her gentle green eyes took them both in with a quick sweep and she smiled brilliantly. “Draven!”
***
Terra tried to hide her chuckle as the small, rotund older woman rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Draven’s waist. She really tried not to laugh out loud when she literally picked him up off his feet and set him back down again.
Her lover grunted appropriately. From the sudden color in his cheeks she had to wonder how strong the little thing really was. She’d almost swear she heard a bone or two of his creak in protest before she let go.
“Grandmere,” he managed after drawing in a lungful of air. “Nice to see you too.”
When she resumed her hold on him, the woman’s sparkling green eyes shifted her way. She tilted her head and curiosity flashed through their surface. “And who is this?”
Draven’s shoulders pulled up, his voice was calm and sure. “Resa, may I formally present my Kyleri, Terra. Ms. Heegan, may I present you with Grand Varax, Resa Taraxus, Kyleri of Grand Virax, Rhu’Tus Taraxus and Mother of Quinten Taraxus, my father.”
She wasn’t sure whether to bow, curtsey or drop to her knees and grovel, but Resa saved her from making an utter fool of herself a heartbeat after Draven had finished the introduction.
The woman’s brow pinched into a frown and she waved an age spotted hand. “Oh pish posh with all that. Such things.” She waved them back toward the door, the glint in her eyes very friendly. “Come, come. We were just sitting down to eat.”
“Oh thank the Gods,” Draven moaned. “I am starved.”
Resa disappeared around the half-opened door, her bellow ringing ahead of her. “Rhu’Tus!! Get your scale covered hide down to the table!! We have guests!!”
A male’s voice replied from somewhere in the distance. “Blast you woman! The game is on! Leave me be!” A pause then, “Who is it?!”
She helped Draven through the door, still trying to hide a smile.
Apparently, no matter what world you were in, grandparents were the same. It was never more evident than the room they entered. Despite the bare stone tunnel, this room was full of ancient looking furniture that could have just as easily been in her own grandparent’s living room.
A long, flower covered couch sat in front of a low coffee table that was complete with doilies and a couple of magazines. Shelves had been built into the walls of the circular room and were covered with hundreds of pictures and knick-knacks of every shape and size. Victorian styled chairs sat at angles to the couch with small tables next to them.
“It is your Grandtyke,” Resa answered her husband. “Now, get your lazy scales in here Mister! Right now!”
A grumbling followed, then, “Which one?”
She ignored the banter or brewing argument, however you wanted to see it, and helped Draven ease into one of the chairs. She knelt next to him, eyeing the blood on his pant legs. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad.”
He was lying and they both knew it. She’d give him credit though, he was trying to hide the pain but hissed when she gingerly eased the ripped material away from the wounds.
“What is all the ruckus about?”
The voice rumbled across the air, reminding her of Draven and she looked up. Standing in the doorway was almost the spitting image of the man she loved and she had to pause. He was just a touch older but had the same long, smoky hair and the same molten orange eyes. His nose was crooked across the bridge and the lava coloring was full of cynicism as they roamed between her and Draven.
She hooked a thumb at him. “Brother?”
Draven laughed. “Nest Mate. Fyris,” he nodded. “How are things?”
Was that like a cousin? There was a defined resemblance between them, so it had to be. But, she’d ask about that later.
Fyris snorted and crossed his arms, leaning in the arch between rooms, jerking his strong chin toward Draven’s legs. “A sight better than you are doing I would guess.”
Her love bristled defensively. “We were attacked.”
Fyris pushed off the curve in the wall and came over, bending to inspect the damage. “By what?”
“A giant squid.”
His molten eyes lifted and a perfect eyebrow arched. “A what?”
“Carnivore,” Draven corrected. “Three of them actually.”
Fyris snorted again, shaking his head. “And you survived?”
Draven’s hand came up and stroked her neck. “My Kyleri’s fire handled them.”
She blushed, actually blushed under the praise and anything she would have said about it, was interrupted as Resa reappeared.
She none too gently shoved Fyris aside when she saw Draven’s injuries. “Move you big oaf! Why did you not tell me you were hurt?”
Her love had the good graces to duck and blushed a bit himself. “We just arrived, Grandmere,” he said quietly. “It had not yet arisen.”
“Pish posh and nonsense.” She shoved Fyris again, pointing him toward one of the other rooms. “Get the kit boy, now!”
***
Half a tick later, his legs fixed up, they took places at the table.
Resa, in all her grandmotherly ways, bellowed for the two other members of the house to join them.
“Zenox, Jaze, you boys get in here! Right now!”
He knew what was coming but watched Terra’s face for her reaction. He had to admit, it was priceless and helped him smile through the pain.
His identical twin cousins, younger siblings to Fyris, bounded into the room, play punching at one another and obviously in the middle of some argument.
“Did not!” Zenox said defensively.
“Did so!” Jaze replied, nailing his older sibling by a shellcrack, in the upper arm.
“Not!”
“So!”
“Not!”
“Stop it, the both of you,” Resa interrupted. “Can you not see? We have guests.”
Both boys did stop but it wasn’t because their grandmere told them too. No, it was their eyes landing on Terra that gave them immediate pause. Like the youngsters they were, their mouths flopped open and he hid a chuckle with a cough.
Were he not older, he’d have done the same the first time he saw her, so he couldn’t blame them. He was the first to admit, whether she thought so or not, Terra Heegan was a gorgeous woman.
What followed was a stumbling shoving match between the boys to see who could get to the chair next to her first. Their antics even managed to crack a smile across Fyris’ normally stoic expression.
Zenox won and spent the entire time trying to tend to her every need…
Terra blushed and was good-natured about it, but he could tell the attention was something she wasn’t used to and wasn’t quite sure what to do with.
As the food was served and he ate his fill, he caught everyone up on recent events. Terra stayed silent, demure in the face of his family, and Resa brought her into the conversation when the tale was finished.
“And how do you feel about all this, my dear?”
She sighed softly and her hand dropped to his thigh, squeezing gently. “I admit I was a bit lost and overwhelmed at first, but I do believe I’m getting the hang of things.”
He slipped a possessive arm around the back of her chair, grinning widely and toying with the long strands of her hair. “She certainly is,” he said, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. “I would not be alive, were it not for her.”
Resa’s eyebrow arched into the air. “Oh? How is that?”
He let go of the hair and rubbed a hand up and down Terra’s arm. “As I recovered with the Harpies, Grandmere, it was dreams of my Kyleri that brought me back.”
Her hand squeezed his thigh
again. “And it was dreams of Draven that kept me fighting to live.”
His grandparentals exchanged a look he couldn’t read and it was Rhu’Tus that laughed. “Well then, I would say we have a Queen in our midst.”
Terra snorted, waving an indifferent hand. “I don’t know about all that now, Sir,” she said calmly. “But I will stand by Draven, whatever he chooses to do.”
Resa’s eyebrow inched higher. “Chooses, my dear?”
Terra smiled. “Yes Ma’am. If he chooses to fight, I’ll fight with him. If he chooses not to, I’ll back that decision too.”
Rhu’Tus snorted this time, shaking his head. “Of course he will fight. He is King.” He glared at Fyris and the twins. “And we will fight with him. Won’t we boys.”
The twin’s heads bobbed quickly, their eyes flashing with enthusiasm but Fyris rolled his and was the one to speak on a long, cynical sounding sigh. “If we must.”
Resa smacked him across the back of the head. “Do not be insolent. Your Liege calls and you shall answer…”
***
Fyris sat back after that, crossing his arms and watching his younger brothers vying for the attention of their new Queen. They regaled her with their exploits, each trying to outdo the other with some tale or another and he was oh so grateful when someone pounded on the door leading to the city below. “I will answer,” he said but no one was listening.
On the other side of the humanoid sized entrance to their home stood one of the Port Guards. The short goblin shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. “Pardon the late interruption, M’Lord, but someone is here to see his Liege.”
That was weird, Draven had said only a few knew they were coming. “Who is it?”
The Goblin’s pointed ears flapped nervously and he twisted a look over his shoulder.
Fyris followed his gaze and spied Mithrin, a Naiad he remembered from his youth in the King’s Tower. “Mith?”
The man stepped forward and tilted his chin out of respect. “Fyris. Has the King arrived yet?”
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Just now. Why?”
The younger looking man’s hand swiped his blue, his equally blue eyes full of distress. “I have news.”
He stepped back and dismissed the Goblin with a wave. “Come in.”
Mithrin followed him through the living area and into the dining. The conversation and laughter died and Draven’s gaze lifted, his smile falling away quickly at their appearance.
“What is it?” he asked.
Mithrin bowed regally and sighed as he stood upright again. “My Liege, forgive my intrusion, but might I have a word?”
Draven’s gaze roamed the table. “Go ahead.”
For a heartbeat, Mithrin’s face pulsed with indecision then he spoke in a rush. “Golix is amassing a fleet of ships he means to make fly. As near as we can tell, he is going to use them in defense of Bra’ka once it is taken.”
Draven frowned and Fyris was intrigued by that.
“And how does he plan to make them fly?”
Mithrin’s eyes slid over to Terra and he sucked in a breath before answering. “He,” The man paused. “He means to cast a spell.”
Terra’s gaze shifted to Draven’s profile, frowning herself. “That doesn’t surprise me. But, is he that powerful?”
Mithrin answered before anyone else. “He does not need to be. On my way here, I saw another ship.”
Draven’s head tilted, confusion flashing through his eyes. “So?”
Mithrin gulped audibly. “The Herd stood on its bow.”
A pulse of fear shuddered down his own spine and he touched the thick scar on his cheek. The Herd had not gathered in one place in nearly a thousand Suns. If they were coming together, now, whatever Golix had planned was going to be hard to stop…
Draven’s voice was firm and reverberated dangerously. “Was it all of them?”
Mithrin’s eyes closed. “Aye Your Majesty, all 8 of the Black Unicorns are headed for the West Beach…”
Chapter Eighteen
As loath as he was to do it, Draven slipped out from under Terra’s warm body at the first sign of daylight. Kissing her temple, he dressed quietly and went in search of Mithrin.
There were questions he needed answered and he found the Naiad seated at the edge of the long entrance tunnel they used to come and go when in Dragon form. He’d pulled his legs up under him and propped his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on his fists and stared out over the city and ocean beyond.
Sitting carefully next to him, he dangled his still healing legs over the edge and leaned back on his own hands. “Is she alive?”
His old friend drew in a sharp breath. “She was when I last saw her.” He was silent for a heartbeat. “How did you know?”
He chuckled, letting his head fall back. “I could smell her. That and your reaction to Terra gave me a clue. How?”
Mithrin let the air out of his lungs. “She told me, but it did not make much sense. Something about a Harpy and her Grandparent?”
He brought his gaze down to judge Mith’s reaction to his next question. “Why did you not say something?”
The Naiad turned and a small smile played over his lips. “She asked me not too. Feared her sister would, as she says, ‘drop everything and come running’.”
He sat forward. Scooping up a handful of rocks he began to toss them out toward the sea. “That she would.”
Mithrin’s face pinched with worry. “Are you going to tell her?”
He wasn’t sure. He should. He hated the idea of keeping secrets from his Kyleri, but Mithrin and Lanni had the right of it. If Terra knew, she would forget everything and go running off to save her twin. She’d taken care of her younger sibling for so long, it was nothing more than instinct at this point, instead of a conscious decision.
It was a tough call, one that set his gut on fire with guilt, but what could he do. There was a bigger picture here, a scheme grander than just one person.
The needs of all, outweigh the life of one…
The old proverb made the choice for him and he stomped down on the acid eating at his soul.
“I will,” he finally said. “But not right now.”
Mithrin looked out over the sea again, falling silent.
Below them the city was beginning to awaken. Vendors shouted to one another, bargaining their wares to start the day. Despite the advances of just about every other race in the Five Kingdoms, the Goblins were one of the few that refused to come along for the ride.
They’d kept their port city as it had been for thousands of Suns. The houses were old and drab, weathered by salt and sea air. Ancient, sail powered ships, rocked against the various docks, bouncing gently on the incoming waves. No building was more than three stories and no respectable Goblin would be caught dead using something as basic as electricity. Even the spotlights they’d hit him with the darkfall before were candle powered.
It didn’t mean they were above technology completely though. Several Suns back, they’d purchased three rail-guns and installed them at the city gates. They claimed they were for defense, and probably were, but even he didn’t want to mess with the massive projectile they fired.
He sat up suddenly, putting a hand on Mith’s shoulder. “You said Golix is reinforcing the ships with armor plating yes?”
The man nodded. “That is right. Rustac armor to be exact. Why?”
His eyes dropped to the guns and a slow smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I have an idea. Come.”
***
“Will it work?”
Fyris ran a hand down his face, scratching at the scar on his cheek. “Well, of course it will work,” he muttered. “Except…”
The hope in Draven’s molten eyes turned sour and his brow pinched together. “Except?”
He pointed at the hastily drawn map on the table and the three X’s that indicated what his King had in mind. “For one, I seriously doubt the Goblins are going to give up the Gun
s. Two, how are we going to even get them back to Gonnel. Three, how do you plan to power them? And four, even if we do manage all that, how do you propose we sneak them past the Ogre’s and Griffons and…”
Draven’s hands slammed onto the table, causing everything to jump and rattle, including their Grandmere’s prized teapot. “I have not worked out all the semantics yet.”
Terra came around the corner from the kitchen, carrying a tray of sandwiches back to the impromptu war council. “Is he always this depressing?”
His grandmere was right behind her, carrying a tray of drinks and answered. “Usually my dear.” She shot him a dower look. “But, you get used to him.”
Terra choked back a laugh and countered his issues in a calm tone, which he had to admit, impressed him. “On the second and fourth point, I would think you all,” she pointed at him, Draven and the Twins. “Would be strong enough to carry them. You are Dragons after all. As for the third, don’t they have some sort of inherent power source? Like a generator? And lastly, why don’t we just buy them? The Kingdom can afford it, Draven.”
His liege pushed back from the table and crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. “So, I ask again, will it work?”
They’d only brought this hair brained idea to him because he’d designed the weapons. After they’d been installed here, he’d stayed on with his Grandparentals because he’d had no place else to go.
“I honestly do not know. But, I will say, if anything can penetrate Rustac armor, it is going to be a weapon of mine.”
Draven clapped his hands together. “It is settled then. Terra and I will make contact with the Interim Regent while you and the Twins start packing.”
He rolled his eyes and walked off muttering to himself. “Cannot expect me to just pack up a 2,000 stone…”
***
The swim from just North of Golbu, down the coast and across the sea to the opposite continent of Rasa took Phara most of the rotation. By darkfall she was rounding the southern tip and heading up the western coast toward Garzug.
To Save The Broken Heart: Dragons, Griffons and Centaurs, Oh My! (Dragons, Griffons, and Centaurs, Oh My!) Page 14