“It is said this is the strongest rope in all the world,” Sayak went on. “You would be foolish to try to transform back. You’d likely end up slicing off your own hands and feet.”
Kal spat a red gob into the sand. “Before this is all done, I will see you dead.”
Sayak laughed. “Says the fool about to die himself.” He whistled and pointed back the way they had come.
Thalia stayed hidden in the sand, watching them walk away, dragging Kal behind them.
Once they were far in the distance, she finally dug her way up and out, shaking the sand out of her fur. She could still see them, a row of black dots on the horizon. But even if she couldn’t, they had left an easy enough trail, dozens of footprints and the heavy groove where Kal had been dragged.
The wind had died down completely, the storm passing as quickly as it had come.
That’s because it was the work of magic, she thought. She hopped forward, following the clan of snakes. She would keep going no matter where they took Kal, and she would do what she could to help him, even she paid with her own life.
15: Kal
He awoke to whiteness all around. At first he panicked, thinking he had lost his mind and memories once more.
Then he remembered his name. Kaladon Wildfire. And he realized the blank whiteness was the inside of a tent.
He sat on the ground, hands tied behind his back to the thick ironwood stake that propped up the center of the tent. He was groggy, hurting all over. One of his eyes wouldn’t open right.
Then he remembered the storm, the snakes, and the webbing of spider silk they had used to ensnare him. Another jab of panic hit his chest as he thought of Thalia.
He remembered sheltering her from the storm, telling her to hide when the snake clan surrounded them. He suddenly felt the desperate need to know where she was. He needed to know that she was safe.
Kal bucked against the ropes. His ankles were bound as well, and struggling only seemed to make the wire-like rope cinch even tighter and increase the throbbing pains in his head and ribs. So he forced himself to stop, to settle down and think.
What had that belly-crawler Sayak called this stuff? Razor silk. The name was fitting. The twine felt as strong as steel, biting into his wrists and ankles.
He tried to remember something else Sayak had said. Oh yes. Don’t transform. Something about how the razor silk would not give. He might lose his hands and feet if he tried.
What was he to do, then? Why hadn’t they just killed him? His head was starting to clear a little, and he thought of an even more pressing question: Why had Marko gone to such lengths to keep from killing him. First he poisoned him in the desert, wiping away all traces of who he was. Why would he do that?
Because his brother loved him just as he loved his brother. That was the only thing that made sense, and the only reason he was probably still alive now. But did Kal still love his brother, after all this? If he had gone to the trouble to get him out of the way, there was a good chance he was making a play for the throne. But he wasn’t sure Marko was capable of overthrowing their father. Even though he had grown a little fat and careless, Karth Wildfire was still a fearsome man and an even fiercer dragon.
As these thoughts drifted through his aching head, he heard a noise outside. A shadow appeared on the tent wall outside, the outline of a man. Then the flap fluttered back and Marko stepped inside.
“Hello, brother,” Marko said, the tent flap fluttering closed behind him. The interior was dim, making Kal think it was close to dusk. But he could clearly see his brother’s face, a mixture of regret and resolve.
“Why?” It was the only question Kal could think to ask.
“Do you really have no idea?” Marko asked. He crouched. “He always loved you more and made no attempt to hide it.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Kal said. “You believe father plays favorites?”
“Played,” Marko corrected. “He will do so no more.”
Kal squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. His father couldn’t be dead. He took a deep breath and opened them again.
“So today I’ve lost a father and a brother,” Kal said. “And what will you do with me?”
Marko stood up. As he looked down at Kal, tears stood out in his eyes.
“I tried to spare you, Kal,” he said. “I truly did not want it to come to this.”
“And what is it going to come to?” Kal asked.
“I will leave your fate to the snakes,” Marko said. “I will make sure however it is done, they will do it quickly and without pain.”
Kal snorted a laugh, making his head throb with a new flash of pain. The idea was nonsense. Whatever Marko told the snakes, whatever he paid them, if they were going to kill him, his death was going to be ugly and slow. “If you’re going to kill me, brother, at least have the courage to do the job yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Marko said. “I couldn’t bear to watch, much less do it myself. I do love you, Kal, despite what you might think.”
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
Marko lifted the flap of the tent to leave, looking back one last time. “Goodbye, brother.”
Kal stared at his Marko, not believing what he had become. But he had already begun to accept it. He would say no goodbyes.
“The next time we meet, brother,” Kal said, “I’m going to do you the courtesy of killing you myself.”
Marko nodded, giving his brother a pitying smile. Then he ducked out of the tent and was gone.
He knew his words were boastful and most likely false. Sayak and his men would make a sport of killing him. They would see how long they could make him last. That was their way.
But his father had taught him never to give up, no matter how dire the situation. Though just now, the situation most looked very dire.
His hands and feet were beginning to grow numb. His whole body ached. Perhaps when they came for him he could find some opening to break free. Perhaps—
Kal looked down past his feet. There on the ground sat a small animal, a furry brown rabbit. She was sitting up on her haunches, ears laid flat, nose twitching. Her bright black eyes were studying him.
“Thalia?” he laughed, wondering if he were hallucinating. “Is that you?”
The rabbit held the tip of its paw to its mouth, the gesture to keep quiet.
She was alive. That thought alone buoyed his spirits. But the idea that she had followed him into the Sunscale’s camp made them sink back down. He knew he was going to die, but she didn’t have to.
“Thalia,” he whispered. “You need to leave.”
She hopped forward and began sniffing around his legs, ignoring his words.
“I mean it,” he said, his whisper insistent. “I…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Something I should have said before now.”
The rabbit perked up then, looking at him with those round black eyes.
“I…care for you,” he said. “And would not see you harmed.”
The rabbit jumped up on his shins and hopped lightly down to where the razor silk was wrapped tightly around his ankles.
She began to chew.
“Thalia,” he said. “You should go now. You can’t set me free. The bonds are far too—”
There was a light snapping sound, the white strands popping and falling to the sand. The pressure around his ankles was gone.
She turned and sat up, looking at him. Her eyes blinked.
Would she never stop surprising him? She hopped down off his legs and ran around behind him. He could feel her whiskers tickling his wrists as she gnawed. Within another minute the bonds cinching his wrists snapped free as well.
Kal sat up and rubbed his hands. He turned around to look down at her.
“I love you,” he said.
The rabbit hopped closer, then began to change, taking the shape of the woman he had grown to know so well in only a matter of days. She wore no clothing, and he wanted more than anythi
ng to take her in his arms and show her just how much he loved her.
Instead, he settled for a single kiss. She drew close to him as he reached out for her, pulling her tight. His lips found hers, so soft and warm. He had kissed women before, but never like this. He felt a brightness within him, as if the touch of her lips were filling him with light. He wished he could have stayed like that forever, holding her in his arms, the gentle curves of her body pressed against his, their lips together.
But then she pulled back. “I would finish this later,” she said. “But for now I believe you have a promise to keep.”
He looked at her, not understanding the words. She had put him in a daze. “What?” he asked.
“You told the snake leader you would see him dead,” she said.
“Oh,” he said, snapping out of it. Yes, he did have some killing to do. And he had no doubt Thalia also would not mind a taste of vengeance. “Right. You really should leave now. It’s about to become very hot around here.”
She nodded, a strange look of resolve in her eyes. “I will run north of camp and wait for you there.” With that, she closed her eyes and leaned in for another brief kiss.
Then Thalia smiled and shifted back into a small brown rabbit. She ran to the edge of the tent, poked her head under to look around, then stole a quick glance back at him. She wagged her cottony tail, and then she ducked under and was gone.
He would give her a few minutes to get clear. And then he was going to turn this camp into an inferno.
They had been prepared for him before, catching him by surprise. Their shaman had crafted a sandstorm. Their bows and spears and been ready with the silk. Now he would be the one to take them by surprise.
Kal stood in the tent and closed his eyes, counting to himself and breathing deeply. He was sore, but he felt much better now. Thalia was alive. She had freed him, and now she would find her way out of the camp. He had never known a more resourceful woman, no matter the clan or lineage. He loved her. That was all that mattered. And once he was done with the snakes, he would find his brother and deal with him. Then he and Thalia could take a breath and figure out what they were going to do next. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as they were together.
He heard the sounds of men walking around the camp outside. But so far no one had come near his tent. When he was satisfied enough time had passed, he bowed his head and began to breathe deeply.
He felt the power of the fire flowing through him. His muscles grew, his skin stretched. His new body filled the tent, then ripped it to shreds as he rose up, now fully a dragon.
The members of the Sunscale clan began to scatter, some scrambling for their weapons, others just running as fast as they could.
Kal felt the fire rise up in his gorge, then he opened his jaws and let the first shower of flame loose in a wide, sweeping jet.
Tents began to burn, and the snakes began to scream.
16: Marko
He landed on the wide round platform and shifted into human form. The sun was just beginning to set and the sky was in that strange place between day and night.
He had done what he needed to do. His father was dead. And now so was his brother. He felt sick to his stomach.
Both poisons had failed. Whether the Nygel was an incompetent apothecary or whether his father and brother were far stronger than he’d thought, neither mattered. Once he was king he would have the disgraced owl-mage disposed of. He knew far too much.
But those things were now in the past. It was time to look to the future. The royal guards had conducted their search. They had found the evidence implicating Hamryk. And first thing tomorrow he would be crowned the new king.
The owls had delivered a message by courier. They would be sending their own investigators, along with a new advisor. That was fine. He had covered his tracks well. They would find the same thing and would have no choice but to validate his rule.
He walked from the landing pad down the spiral staircase. He would have a cup of wine to take his mind off of the day’s ugliness.
He thought of Nevra, her lithe pale body, her dark eyes. Picturing her made him stiffen uncomfortably. He might also need to get a consort to work out his frustrations. Soon he would be able to be with her. Soon they would rule all of Xandakar. They had stumbled along the way, but they would get there. The plan was back on track.
Marko wasn’t sure about this nonsense with Vander Tanglevine, though. Nevra had said her father meant for her to marry him. The idea was ridiculous, of course. From what he knew of the young green king, he was jovial and carefree, the exact opposite of Nevra’s wicked cynicism. They would mix like oil and water. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t going to happen.
He headed down the hall towards his chambers. Guards snapped to attention when they saw him. Servants stopped and bowed their heads until he was long past them. He smiled to himself. He had never gotten this kind of respect when he was merely the second prince. But now that everyone knew he was going to be the king, they had all changed their tune. That was good. He felt his spirits lifting.
He stopped the next serving girl he saw in the hall and ordered her to bring a flask of wine to his chambers.
In his room, Marko shed his armor, standing naked by the open windows near the balcony, letting the hot desert wind blow in across his body. He felt strong. His father was dead, for which he felt nothing but relief. So was his brother, which stung with regret. But it was necessary. In the name of progress, sacrifices must be made.
A light knock came at the door.
“Enter,” he said.
The serving girl opened the door, entering with a tray with the flask and a copper cup. She nearly dropped everything when she saw Marko standing there naked. The tray wobbled in her hands, but she recovered, blushing deeply and averting her eyes to the floor.
“I’m sorry, your majesty,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Just put the wine on the table,” he said, looking the girl up and down. She had fair hair and a long face, but she was pleasant enough to look at. She reminded him of Agna. As far as he knew, she was still in the dungeons. The owls might want to talk to her. Perhaps he should see that she not make it until tomorrow. He could see to it that she be a little too aggressively interrogated. But he would take care of that later.
He thought now he might take this girl instead of a consort. His father had always thought it crude to use the servants in such a way. He had insisted that’s what consorts were for. But his father wasn’t around anymore, was he? Things were about to change, and the way of doing things was whatever Marko decided was best.
The girl had put the tray down and was waiting, head-bowed, to be dismissed.
“Take off your top,” he said.
She peeked up at him, a shocked look in her eyes. “Your majesty?”
He chuckled. “I am not king just yet,” he said. “But you will still do what I say. Get your breasts out for me. If I like what I see, perhaps you can give your new king a little trifle.”
The young woman was clearly flustered. She looked worried as she slid the rough-spun cloth of the blouse off of her shoulders and pulled it down to her waist. Her breasts were nice and plump, the nipples a light pink.
Marko felt himself stiffen and rise. Yes, she would do nicely after all.
“Go out on the balcony,” he said. “Bend over the railing and lift up your skirt.”
She paused, wringing her hands. “But sire,” she said. “There might be people in the courtyard below.”
“Then they will have an unexpected show,” he said. “Now do as I say before my annoyance turns to anger.”
“Yes, sir,” the serving girl said, picking up the hem of her skirt and nearly running out onto the balcony.
Yes, Marko thought. That’s what I like to see.
The girl reached up under her skirt and pulled down her underclothes to her ankles. Then she bent over the brass railing, her pale bottom looking ripe for the taking. This was just what he
needed.
But as he stepped out onto the balcony himself, he glanced up at the horizon, into setting sun. Suddenly he wasn’t much in the amorous mood anymore. He looked on in shock as he felt himself grow soft again.
There, the setting sun at his back, flew a dragon. He was still far away, but Marko recognized him instantly.
“Gods be damned!” he yelled.
The serving girl looked at him, her head upside down on the other side of the railing. She was terrified now. “Did I do something to displease you, your majesty?”
Marko ran back into the room, found his armor, and began to pull it back on.
17: Thalia
They flew toward the sandstone palace once again. Only this time there was no storm. There were no snakes. They had all been burned to a crisp. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Seeing them all die, flames licking scaly skin, had felt good in some deep-down animalistic way. But another part of her felt ashamed for feeling that way. Her warren was gone and nothing would bring them back.
But now she also knew that those who had done so much evil were gone. They couldn’t harm anyone else again. Surely it was okay to feel at least a little good about that?
She had worked her way out of the camp and watched from a distance as Kal rose up on his hind legs, fire pouring from his open maw as he swiveled his head back and forth. Sayak himself had tried to run. But Kal had leapt into the air and landed on his back, crushing him under his claws. Then he had stepped off of him and showered the snake leader with flame for good measure.
Maybe good wasn’t the right word for what she felt. Satisfied?
In any case, once the camp had been razed into the scorched sand, Kal had found her. She had transformed back into human form, wrapping a torn flap of tent cloth around her naked body. She had climbed back up on him, feeling once again like that’s where she belonged.
Kal had flapped his great wings, clearing away some of the smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Then he had vaulted them into the air, heading for his home.
Dragon Red: A Fire Unfed (The Dragonlords of Xandakar Book 2) Page 12