Dragon Blue: A Lie That's True (The Dragonlords of Xandakar, Book1)

by Macy Babineaux

  He could see that she wanted to embrace him, but he must have looked a wreck. Because he could also tell she was afraid to touch him for fear of hurting him further.

  “I’m fine,” he said, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. His throat felt as if it had been rubbed with sand. As glad as he was to see her, he now feared for her life. “You have to leave,” he struggled to say. Every word brought a stab of pain.

  Miranda was looking around the room, up at his chains. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “We?” he said.

  “I came with Siccora,” she whispered. He looked back at the hole, wondering if she were somewhere down there. “She’s gone up ahead. The sewers run right under the dungeons. We knew where to find you from…from the noises you made. We argued, but agreed to a plan. She would go deeper into the castle, transform, and cause a distraction. I’d get you out of here.”

  “No,” Corban whispered. “Won’t work.”

  “It was the best we could come up with,” she said. “If I shift in here, I can break those chains and we can get out together. She can catch up later.”

  “No,” he said, louder than he had expected. He coughed and felt blood on his lips. “The glass. You have to destroy the glass.”

  “What?” she said. “What glass?”

  He opened his mouth to try to explain, even though every word was agony. But from somewhere else in the castle a loud siren began to wail.

  “Oh shit,” Miranda said. “They must have found her.”

  “Go!” was all Corban could say, nodding fiercely at the hole across the room. He didn’t want her to be caught as well.

  She glanced between the corner and him, a pained look on her face. Then she moved up to him, standing on her toes and gently putting her hands on his stomach. She leaned forward and put a soft kiss on the armor of his belly, the highest she could reach.

  She looked up at him. “I will get you out of here,” she said. Then the massive door of the cell began to creak. Her eyes widened, and she dashed for the hole, crawling in and sliding the grate shut just as the door opened.

  There, filling the doorway, was Nicola. He strode into the cell, right up to Corban. He nodded at a guard standing in the hallway and the chains began to lower, not all the way to the ground, but almost.

  Nicola snatched out with his gloved hand, as quick as a viper, and grabbed Corban’s jaw. He cried out in pain.

  “It seems we were followed through the gate,” he said. “We already found one unwanted visitor. She looks like a tasty little morsel. We’re going to put her in the cell next door so you can hear each other’s screams.”

  The man’s thick fingers squeezed Corban’s jaw painfully. He glanced down and saw Nicola’s ever-present war hammer hanging on his belt. If he only had more strength, he would take that hammer and smash the man’s head in. But he also now saw the black velvet pouch dangling from his belt as well, the curved bulge of a glass ball the size of a grapefruit.

  “Do you have anything you want to tell me?” Nicola said, a dark grimace on his face. “Are there others?”

  Corban struggled not to look across the room at the grate Miranda had come through. That would seal her fate. Instead, he held his gaze locked with Nicola’s dark, malevolent eyes.

  “Eat shit,” he said, specks of blood landing on Nicola’s pale cheek.

  Nicola smiled and let go of his jaw. “Your time here has actually been more comfortable than it needs to be,” he said. “I could make things much more unpleasant for you if I wished.”

  Corban just looked at the man and licked the blood from his lips.

  “Very well,” Nicola said. “My men are preparing your little rescuer for me as we speak. I’m going to go next door and have a little fun with her.” He was studying Corban’s face. “I can see she is no one you care about. You haven’t even asked her name. You know something, though.”

  Corban held his tongue.

  “My men are searching the rest of the fortress,” Nicola said. “Perhaps eventually we’ll find someone you do care about.”

  With that, he turned and left. As he did, two guards stepped into the room, shutting the door behind.

  Corban glanced over at the grating on the floor. He hoped Miranda was no longer there, that she had fled. He’d told her about the glass, but hadn’t had time to fully explain. He hoped she would find her way back out of the castle and back to Xandakar, though he had no idea how.

  He felt as if he didn’t know anything anymore. Except that he wanted Miranda to be safe. And that he loved her.

  21: Miranda

  She knelt in the tunnel beneath Corban’s cell, listening to that piece of shit interrogate him. She kept as still as a mouse, hearing every word, the distant sound of the sirens wailing in the background.

  Soon after the door slammed shut, she heard the sirens stop. She heard the heavy boot steps thumping down the hallway. This section of the tunnel ran lengthways under the cells.

  Her only two choices were to run, which she wasn’t going to do, or to find another way. What had Corban said? Something about a glass? She needed to know what he meant.

  As quietly as she could, she lifted the grating. She looked up at Corban, his head hanging down, his chin on his chest. Blood was trickling from his mouth in a thin red line. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to murder the son of a bitch that had done this to him.

  But then she saw the guards by the door, standing up straight, watching Corban.

  Fuck, she thought. She couldn’t go up there. Not now. She lowered the grating as quietly as she could, then knelt in the tunnel.

  Miranda wondered why they would have these tunnels under the prison cells anyway. They seemed like an easy means of escape. Yeah, she thought, but to where? There didn’t seem to be anything resembling a road or a town in the surrounding area. Just a hellish, rocky landscape filled with bugs and lizards. Maybe they actually wanted prisoners to escape every once in a while, just to screw with them. In any case, she’d heard everything the man had said. They had caught Siccora. She’d said she was going to try to cause a distraction.

  I guess this counts, Miranda thought. And now they were looking for her. Soon enough they’d come looking in these tunnels, if they hadn’t already started.

  The man said he’d be in the cell next door, where they had taken Siccora. Miranda figured her best option was to see what was going on in there. If the man was alone with her, maybe they could overpower him. Shit, she didn’t know. Everything had gone to hell. She knew she couldn’t leave, not without Corban. And she owed it to Siccora to try to help her as well. But apparently all three of them were having problems shifting. Did it have something to do with the glass Corban was talking about? She wasn’t sure that made sense. But then, what around here did?

  She already heard voices coming from the grate down the tunnel, so she crept in that direction. When she reached it, she could hear that same man’s voice.

  “…if there’s anyone else here with you, and I’ll go easy on you.”

  “Yes,” Siccora said. “There is one other.”

  Goddamnit Siccora, Miranda thought. What are you doing?

  “Good,” the man said. “Where?”

  “In a dark place,” Siccora said. “If you bend down and put your head far enough between your legs, you can find it yourself.”

  Miranda smiled, but then heard the crack of a slap.

  She had to risk it, to see if they were alone. She lifted the grate slowly and quietly. Siccora was facing her, her wrists and ankles shackled to the black stone wall. The hulk of a man stood in front of Siccora, his back to Miranda. She scanned the room quickly. The door was closed and no other guards were around. She looked back at the man and saw a huge hammer hanging from his belt. She also saw a black velvet pouch next to it, the curved bulge as big as a softball.

  Siccora glanced toward the back of the room and for a brief moment caught her eye. The right side of her face was red, already sw
elling from the blow.

  Miranda had the grate perched half open, watching.

  Siccora was careful not to stare too long. She turned her head back to look the man in the eye. “Tell you what,” Siccora said, “I bet it gets lonely here. All I’ve seen so far are men. Take me down off this wall and I’ll give you a proper fucking.”

  He threw his head back and gave a full-bellied laugh at that. “And why would I want to unshackle you, dear? If I wanted to fuck you, why would I not just take you as you are?”

  “Certainly you could,” she said. “But perhaps if my hands were free I could show you things you hadn’t seen before.”

  “Oh, I doubt that, missy,” he said. “I’ve been around for a long time, longer than you know. You’re playing a game, you are. You think if you’re loose you might get the upper hand on me. Or you think I might go easier on you.”

  She sighed. “Either fuck me free or chained,” she said. “I care not, though I do grow bored with this chatter.”

  He laughed again and knelt to set one ankle free. “Oh, I’ll see you loose,” he said. “But you’re wrong on all counts. It will be much worse for you, especially if you try anything.”

  He unshackled her other foot next, then both her wrists. As soon as she was free, he pushed her against the wall, slamming her into it. He grabbed the shoulders of her armored suit and yanked it down to her waist. Her breasts came free, full and supple in the dim light. The man looked down at them and chuckled, taking one in his gloved hand.

  “You’ve no idea who or what I am,” he said. “I plan to fuck you and drink from you at the same time.”

  Siccora reached out and grabbed his own armor, pulling it from his chest. “Then do it,” she said. “And quit your yammering.”

  He laughed again as they undressed each other. Siccora glanced over at her only once. Miranda nodded in return, and Siccora turned back to the man.

  His upper body was bare now. He looked incredibly strong, his muscles bulging beneath purplish pale skin. A thick gray braid lay between his massive shoulders. His thick hands were tugging her armor down past her hips. Miranda was not surprised to see Siccora’s pubic hair trimmed into a neat landing strip.

  “What’s your name?” Siccora said, working at his belt with her hands.

  “Oh, are we to be sweethearts now?” he asked mockingly.

  “No,” she said. “But at some point I am going to kill you. And I like to know the names of those whose lives I claim.”

  He laughed hardest of all at that, his whole body shaking. “Nicola,” he said, still laughing. “Nicola Nullvoid.”

  His belt came loose, the great hammer landing on the stone floor with a thunk. The velvet pouch also landed on the floor, the strings cinching it tight coming loose. The curved contents escaped the bag, and Miranda watched as a glass ball rolled out into the middle of the room. The man named Nicola paid no mind. His attention was fully on Siccora now. She was doing a fine job of distracting him, running her hands across his skin while he pawed at her breasts and reached around to cup her bare ass.

  Miranda turned back to the orb. Just looking at it made her sick. The inside was as dark as smoky, but it wasn’t moving. It almost seemed like the absence of all motion, but that didn’t seem to make sense. All she knew was that she felt weak and nauseous when she looked at it. Could this be the glass Corban was talking about?

  You have to destroy the glass, he had said. She didn’t really know exactly why destroying that thing was so important, but she did want to see it smashed to bits. In lieu of a better plan, that’s what she decided to do.

  Siccora had pulled Nicola’s boots and breeches off. His whole body was pale. Miranda had never seen an albino before, but this is what she imagined they might look like naked. He had her pushed up against the wall now, pushing himself into her, his pale ass cheeks clenching with each thrust.

  Miranda slid the grating aside and crawled out of the hole. She stayed on her hands and feet, moving as silently as possible. She crawled past the orb, looking down at it. Being so close nearly made her pass out, but she clenched her eyes and shook her head.

  Don’t look at it, she thought. Keep moving.

  She crept right up to where Nicola’s armor lay in a pile. The hide-bound handle of his hammer stood straight up in the air.

  Miranda climbed slowly to her feet and grabbed the handle with both hands. Siccora was watching her now over Nicola's pale shoulder. She was beginning to look pale herself, as if the blood were draining out of her face.

  Nicola was chuckling as he fucked her. “Like that, do you?” he asked. “You people think you’re special, being able to flip back and forth between forms. Well, I’m taking that power, feeding it on. And it tastes so very good.”

  Miranda hefted the hammer up. Goddamn it was heavy, but thankfully not too heavy for her to handle. She probably only had one chance at this. She could try to smash his head in. Or…

  You have to destroy the glass.

  She turned, staggering with the hammer, and took three steps back to where the orb rested on the stone floor. She raised the hammer high over her head.

  Nicola heard her. He pulled away from Siccora and screamed, an inarticulate howl.

  But he was too late. Miranda brought the hammer down, the blunt square head landing flush on the top of the glass ball. It shattered into a thousand shards, spraying across the floor.

  He was upon her then, tackling her from behind and knocking her to the floor. The hammer fell out of her hands and slid across the floor.

  His full weight was on her as she lay face down. Spittle flew past her face to the floor as he screamed at her. “You bitch!”

  She still felt the weakness from being so near the glass. But with her cheek pressed against the stone, she saw the hundreds of glass shards lying on the floor in front of her. As she watched, they began to curl like burning leaves, then rise into wisps of white smoke before disappearing completely.

  She felt the weakness fade, strength slowly returning to her. But then she felt powerful hands wrap around her neck and begin to squeeze. She couldn’t breathe, his fingers cinching tight like a vise. Face-down with her arms pinned, she couldn’t move. Gray motes began to dance in front of her eyes.

  This is it, she thought. He’s going to kill me.

  Then a cracking noise filled her ears. It sounded like a thousand ice trays being twisted at once. The grip on her throat slackened, but only slightly, not enough to take a proper breath.

  “No,” Nicola said, his voice lower this time, dreading whatever it was he saw.

  Miranda strained her head against his hands to look up. What she saw warmed her heart.

  The wall between the adjoining cells was completely white, cracks radiating outward from the center. She knew what had caused the black stone to turn white, and she smiled, half delirious from lack of oxygen.

  A giant blue claw smashed through the center of the wall, and the whole thing crumbled to the floor. There stood Corban, fully transformed into the great blue dragon, nearly filling the entire room.

  With the glass shattered, he was free to shift, the power flowing through him once more. All of them were free, but Siccora had just been fed upon and Miranda had gotten so close the glass at the end that it had nearly sapped all of her strength.

  But Corban was in full force. His claws thudded on the floor as he rushed forward, knocking Nicola off of Miranda with a lightning-quick swipe.

  Miranda pushed herself up, gasping for air. Corban looked down at her, and seeing she was going to be okay, he turned his eyes on Nicola. The man lay naked and crumpled in the corner of the room. He stirred, blinking his eyes and trying to get to his feet.

  Corban opened his jaws and blasted Nicola with a shower of frost. As Miranda shakily got to her feet, Corban’s breath stopped, leaving a white frozen figure in its wake.

  Miranda was feeling stronger now. She felt the Emberstone pulsing at her throat. She glanced over at Siccora, who had already recovered
enough to find her armor and begin to put it back on. Soon they would both be able to shift into dragonform. And that was good, because she heard the thunder of boots and the yelling of men in the hall.

  But first there was something she wanted to do, needed to do. She grabbed the handle of Nicola’s hammer and dragged it to the corner where he crouched, frozen solid. She hefted the hammer in the air and brought it down at the base of his frozen neck. Like the glass, he shattered into a rain of a thousand pieces.

  Damn that felt good, she thought, dropping the hammer with a clank.

  She could hear them gathering outside in the hall. She looked up at Corban, then at Siccora, who nodded back. Miranda closed her eyes and began to shift, feeling the heat of the stone flow through her. Her muscles swelled, wings growing, spines jutting.

  When she opened her eyes the room seemed so much smaller. She glanced to her right and saw Siccora, now also fully transformed.

  Everyone in this castle who isn’t a dragon is about to have a very bad day, she thought.

  The door burst open and the first wave of men in black armor burst through.

  Miranda smiled, took a deep breath, and opened her jaws.

  22: Corban

  She had saved him. He didn’t think she would be able to do it. He thought they would all die in this forsaken place.

  That was twice he had doubted her. First in the courtyard, and then here. He would never doubt her again.

  They stood side-by-side in the dungeons, raining fire and frost down on the men in black armor that poured through the door. Only they weren’t men, thought Corban. They were vampires. They were parasites. And they needed to be exterminated.

  After they had killed perhaps twenty or thirty, the men stopped charging through the door. Then it was the dragons’ turn to charge. Corban led the way, smashing headlong through the doorway, breaking away the wall.

  Miranda and Siccora were right behind him, and then the carnage ensued. The three dragons began to destroy the castle and everything in it, tearing it apart from the inside out. Their prey tried to flee, but were either frozen solid or burned to ash.