by Debra Kristi
Marcus warmed with confidence. Nothing could stop him now. Soon he’d absorb every one of those dragons within his soul, and be more powerful than any dragon to ever exist. Never again would the dragon council be able to banish him.
His skin tightened across his chest. He laughed out loud as fire and fumes consumed him, his own dragon sliding in, returning from Purgatory. His beast reeked of death and decay. Didn’t bother Marcus one bit. His heart was dark, and he liked it that way.
“Keep chanting!” Leila scolded. “Your beast is not secure until the chant is complete.”
Marcus shot her a stern look, but followed her demands. His chest burned. Possibly with anger. He wasn’t used to people telling him what to do. She was the first in a great while to even try.
Leila came to the fire with a knife bearing the markings of his family crest. She tilted it at an angle so he could verify its authenticity.
He laid out his arms palms up, hands curled into fists, and then gritted his teeth in preparation for what came next. Leila cut matching marks into each arm using the tip of the blade. When completed, the cuts looked like eyes with a line running through them. Blood ran from the newly cut slashes and small brass bowls on the floor below caught the runoff.
With the matching eyes of Rajũn cut into his arms, Marcus opened his arms wide to receive. Leila moved to his bare chest and pressed the point of the knife to the place just above his heart. His heart stopped, his chant paused, and his eyes flickered down to her. She stood so close. Nothing could stop her from plunging the blade deep into his soul. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze and smiled gingerly, as if she’d heard his thoughts.
His insides burned. A fury of hatred for her whirled out of control, the control she exhibited over him the accelerant. Yet, he feared her. For that reason she would have to die. Not yet, though. After he got what he wanted.
She smiled at him and he didn’t trust it, didn’t trust her. The smile was too knowledgeable, too deceitful. The knife tip stung. Sliced through his skin with the burn of a wild flame. He didn’t look down. Instead, he kept his gaze steady on her and savored the singe.
Every sense heightened, making him acutely aware of each breath, every change taking place around him, within the room. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Leila’s body heat changed and she shuffled away from him. Marcus picked up on her subtle vibrations moving through the old tile floor. She was walking backwards, toward the first of the dragons. Why was she trying to be so quiet? Was she double-crossing him? Trying to inhibit his ability to follow through?
If so, he would finish it. He would finish her. He’d been born for finalities.
Leila uncapped the first jar. The lid sprang free and the monstrous Forest Dragon jumped out onto the jar’s edge, both beast and her majestic power bursting free like a sandstorm bursting through a once-closed door. She released a resounding war cry as the magical energy, disguised as a euphoric light show, swirled up out of its prison and across the room toward Marcus. Like dust pulled to the vacuum, the dragon’s magic drew straight into Marcus’s body through the cut on his arm.
Marcus reeled backwards, the force slamming into him like a full-grown gargoyle. Power surged through his arms, lightning quick into his bloodstream, the desire to tear a giant hole in a mountain’s side a new and exciting prospect.
The sound of another jar opening, the cap hitting the hard ground, froze Marcus’s arteries, and ice crusted his bones. The power of the Ice Dragon had entered his system through the symbol cut in his other arm. The floor came up to meet him, his hands slamming flat onto the filthy tile. His upper torso was weighted down, thrown out of balance with the rest of him.
His muscles strained, his jaw locked, and he pushed himself up. He refused to show weakness. Weakness was for the inferior. Leila might as well have put a torch to his ears, for the way they felt. They could have been turning to ash by the moment, they burned with such intensity. He tilted them to the ceiling.
A minor shift in the environment had occurred. One not likely detectible by any creature, human or otherwise. Yet he felt it, if barely. Then he saw it—a portal.
“Hurry,” he growled.
Leila glanced behind her at the shimmering air a moment before it snapped straight and disappeared. She ripped the top of the third jar open and dashed around the diamond to the fourth, releasing both giants almost simultaneously. The dragon essences came at him from opposite directions, colliding into the marks cut deep in his chest. Magic misted around Marcus and the stones with the forceful fumes of a dragon-induced bonfire.
His goal was almost actualized. One more to go. Absorb the magical life force of each dragon. Power and rage coursed through his blood, his bones, his everything.
Sebastian and Kyra slipped out of the portal and collapsed onto the floor of the Great Hall.
Marcus’s gaze narrowed in on Kyra. His heart remained steady and his mind started calculating. The little carnie had messed everything up, bringing her here. She was supposed to be his. He had the perfect little Bronze Dragon picked out to tame her.
Leila ripped open the final glass prison, releasing Kyra’s dragon, Kalrapura. Orange flecks of light floated up into the air, up between Marcus and Kyra, and Marcus envisioned Kyra as the dragon who had pulled him from the water the day he’d first found her. That dragon, that Moorigad, would now be his.
“Marcus!” Kyra screamed. “What are you doing?”
Leila moved a step closer to him. “Don’t get distracted. Keep the ritual flowing.”
Sebastian lurched forward and pointed at Leila. “You! You’re helping him?”
Kyra and Sebastian had their hands linked together. Kyra now grabbed his arm and pulled close to his ear. “You know her?”
“Only from a dream,” Sebastian said. Kyra started to pull away from him, but Sebastian clutched onto her and held tight. “It’s nothing, Kyra. I’ll explain later.”
Marcus’s skin was scorching. The more he watched Kyra with the idiot carnie, the more it throbbed. He’d have to obliterate the boy now. He was too much of a liability. Always getting in the way. Or…he could consume Sebastian, like he had so many demons in the past. Yes. Consume him and take within him the power of a Mara. A wayward grin twitched at the edge of Marcus’s lips.
Then unmatched power slammed Marcus in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He laughed and laid his head on the ground. Every part of him tingled, dancing to life on a new level of awareness. Never had he felt so incredible, and he had Kyra to thank for it. Wicked delight curled at the edges of his lips, and he was only halfway through the ritual. It was only going to get better.
Five dragons, and all their magic and power, were his. Now miniature versions of what the beasts once were flew in complete disarray above him. They were nothing more than vessels for the dragons’ spirits: their vitality, their hearts, their liveliness. Soon, even those would belong to Marcus.
Sebastian scrambled to the side. Marcus saw him coming, knew what he was up to. Sebastian lurched for Kyra’s dragon and Marcus roared. The walls vibrated. Marcus flexed and morphed in a fraction of a second. It felt like someone had shoved a steel-toed boot far up his ass and pulled his intestinal tract out. Excruciating, but he got a tail out of the process, and he swept it across the room, sending Sebastian airborne. He creamed into the far wall. Fell in a heap on the floor.
Kyra screamed.
Leila laughed.
And the sacrificial dragons, now void of their magical core, took flight, screeching objections that echoed throughout the hall.
Sebastian pushed himself into a sitting position. “You captured each of the dragons’ essences?”
Marcus sneered, didn’t answer, and then began to bulge and bubble all over his body. His intestines were boiling. The process was cooking him from the inside. Bloody shit, he cursed silently. Then peace washed over him. He was dragon—sort of. A deformed mutation of a dragon. Not for long, though. He would fix that.
He stretched his lo
ng neck high in the air. Then—snap! He chomped down on the Ice Dragon. Caught her mid-flight. He devoured her slowly. Allowed himself the satisfaction of enjoying every tingle and twinge gained from the beast’s life force. He was drunk on her power, so drunk he could sleep for days. Of course he wouldn’t. There were four more dragons on the menu.
The remaining dragons flew in a defensive form of chaos, their cries bouncing off the walls of the old party hall. Spotting two dragons clinging close together, Marcus lumbered toward them. They separated. He pitched to the side, caught the Green Dragon by the wing. Flipping her around, he tossed her up and caught her as she pitched back down.
As before, his power surged and his desire to nap increased.
Three more to go.
And it continued. The mountain dweller, the horned Blue Dragon. Marcus devoured them both.
Kyra crouched in the corner, screaming, spewing words of hate and loathing. He didn’t care. He’d fix her later. Sebastian stood, brushed the dirt off, and looked a lot like a thorn in Marcus’s claw. Damn boy didn’t know when to give up. Silly, he even had himself a toy dagger. As if that would help. Marcus roared with laughter.
Kid couldn’t do anything. Marcus had one dragon left to go. Kyra’s dragon, the prized Moorigad. He’d saved the best for last.
Sebastian grabbed Kyra, pulling her from Marcus’s reach. “Do you trust me?” he yelled.
“You know the answer to that,” Kyra answered.
“There’s no room for doubt.”
Marcus roared. He hated talk of trust between Kyra and Sebastian. He hated Sebastian.
Kyra’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at Marcus, then nodded to Sebastian.
Sebastian grabbed something from the back of his jacket. Marcus lumbered closer and watched Sebastian press what looked like the dagger against Kyra’s skin. Red spread from the spot as Sebastian sliced a line into Kyra’s forearm.
“Ouch!” she yelled, and grabbed her arm.
Kyra’s dragon shrieked, turned, and looked toward the carnie pair. Kalrapura suddenly moved at an alarming speed in their direction. Marcus chomped down where she had been, but she was gone.
A tiny sound escaped Kyra’s lips and she began to shuffle backwards, her stare glued on the dragon diving directly at her. She tripped and fell into Sebastian’s arms. The dagger clamored against the tile floor.
They were not allowed to ruin this for him. Marcus pinned his sights on Sebastian and hurled into him with all his rage at the helm. He wanted blood, and the Mara bastard’s suited him perfectly fine. The blow knocked Kyra sideways, hurtling her into a heap on the floor. Sebastian yelled for her and whipped the dagger out from his side, where it had fallen moments ago.
Too frantic? Panicked? The Mara boy accidently cut himself on the leg, pulling the dagger free. Blood dripped down Sebastian’s calf. A victorious grin was already spreading across Marcus’s face. Careless mistakes would make him an easy kill.
Behind Marcus, Leila danced in a circle. A circle of insanity. He would crush her sooner rather than later, Marcus decided.
Sebastian swung the dagger at Marcus. The blade barely grazed him, yet he burned with the fires of a thousand Hells. Marcus let out a roar of a Dragon King magnified to the power of twenty. The walls shook, crumbling dirt from its old stucco. Bits of the ceiling cracked, broke free, and plummeted.
Kyra collapsed on her knees and hugged herself, favoring her head. She was like a wounded animal, and Marcus savored the vision. Then she was scrambling across the littered floor and pulling at Sebastian’s wound.
Sebastian grabbed Kyra’s wrist and pulled her to her feet. She wavered. Marcus’s upper lip pulled back, exposed his sharp canines. He was ready to devour, and devour he would.
Sebastian glanced around the hall, then over Kyra. Marcus knew what the boy was doing. Stupid boy was looking for Kyra’s dragon. He still thought he could save her. Marcus roared with laughter, and he saw Kyra’s eyes glaze over. Marcus roared again, and this time the air trembled. Orange specks shimmered, floated around Kyra and Sebastian, and Marcus’s howl only grew louder and more intense.
A shock wave exploded around them, and Sebastian and Kyra, even the ginormous dragon that was Marcus, were knocked off their feet. Marcus lay in a heap as tingles of energy seeped out from every place a cut had been on his body. Orange, gold, and slight flecks of blue oozed from his dragon husk in a surge of magical, churning dust. In a whirling dash, it moved across the hall and disappeared in the explosive shock wave around Sebastian and Kyra.
Marcus’s claws dug chunks out of the ground. He growled, then rushed at Sebastian, his eyes ablaze with plans for his ingestion. He was getting Kyra’s dragon one way or another. If he had to eat both of them to get it, so be it!
Whoosh. The portal oscillated.
A rush of air flew into the hall, slammed into Marcus, threw him to the ground. Marcus couldn’t believe his eyes. He was staring up at Bolsvck, eyes burning with fury, nostrils flared and ready to burn. What would possibly bring Bolsvck here now? Unless the Dragon Elders had finally recognized Marcus’s potential.
Marcus’s chest puffed out and shoulders squared, then he was tumbling backwards, slammed in the breast by Bolsvck’s wrecking ball tail. Marcus lunged back, missed his mark, and chomped on air. A wing the size of a small building knocked Marcus sideways. Didn’t matter. He would still win this. He was confident. After all, Bolsvck was a dragon of legend, which meant he was old. Marcus still had strength and youth on his side.
Still, Bolsvck was big! And he blocked Marcus’s clear line of attack at Sebastian, or capture of Kyra. Bolsvck stood with his wings spread wide in clear protection of his daughter beyond.
Marcus thrashed at the ground and roared, then watched the punk Sebastian take his girl back through the portal. There was nothing he could do to stop him. Not with Bolsvck standing in the way. Marcus bellowed. He would kill them for this. Kill them all. Fired with anger and frustration, Marcus swung his powerful tail, slammed it into the sidewall. Drywall and concrete cracked and shattered, and debris splattered across the room. He lunged at Bolsvck, jaws chomping.
Muscles bound with fire and fury, the two dragons twisted and spun in a heated battle of strength and cunning. Marcus’s confidence led the fight, but Bolsvck was a hardier opponent than he had anticipated. Plus, tingles and sparks continued to nip at his body, along the incisions meant to pull in and trap the power of additional magical beings. Marcus clobbered Bolsvck once in the side, but staggered from the weight of his own blow. Had he lost something? Had one of the sacrificial dragons somehow escaped?
His head swooned and he struck out, forcing Bolsvck to keep his distance. Marcus’s breath came in long, labored efforts.
“Give it up, Balidhug. You cannot best me,” Bolsvck sneered. “You made a mistake trying to take power again. You should have stayed wherever you were. Remained quiet. We would have left you alone.”
“What do you know?” Marcus yelled. “You are stuck in your old ways. You won’t even lead, but the people, the dragons, need a leader. I will be that leader.”
Bolsvck huffed, lumbered in a slow circle around Marcus. Marcus searched the area, every dark corner, for Leila. He saw no sign of her. Damn that Mara bitch for bolting when I could use her most, Marcus hissed internally.
“You cannot rule by way of destruction,” Bolsvck said.
Marcus let the words slide in one ear and straight out the other. There wasn’t a thing Bolsvck could say Marcus wanted to hear.
“You only live because I allowed it, nephew. You’d be wise to heed me now.”
Except maybe that.
Marcus’s head snapped forward, his nostrils flared, eyes blazed wide. “I am not your kin!”
“Are you not? Are you so certain of your truth?”
Marcus shook his head back and forth and back and forth. He would not believe. He was no descendant of the wretched royal family. Claws flared, razor-sharp, he lashed out, pulling flesh from Bolsvck’s face.
Everything around them erupted in chaos and noise. The thunder of Bolsvck’s uproar. Bolsvck’s fire consuming all oxygen. The walls crumbling and falling. And the hulk of a talon slapping Marcus across the Great Hall. The last thing Marcus saw, before his heavy eyelids succumbed, was Leila peering down at him.
Sebastian and Kyra rushed from the portal, their shoes slipping on the damp grass. Arcs of silver tinsel glistened in the moonlight, remnants from the sprinklers having run only moments earlier. Kyra caught a mud patch and slid. Sebastian’s arm shot out and steadied her.
The surrounding city assaulted him, attacked with thoughts and memories Sebastian was too weak to combat. He pulled the tiny vial of Talia’s Spiritual Peace from his pocket, took a swig. It was like a warm rinse gliding over his brain. The nagging, the internal chatter stopped.
They had arrived in the city park, the final location Madoc had set up a portal for Sebastian. He owed the Gatekeeper big for all that he had done. The passage behind them quivered and snapped shut, just as he had been told it would. No one could follow them now.
Sebastian released a deep breath in relief. The night air around them chilled his sweat-coated skin. Things may have turned out alright, but it didn’t stop him from stressing in the process. He looked over at Kyra. She was watching him.
“What the hell was all that?” Kyra burst both in words and body language, her arms flailing and swinging around, attempting to pinpoint the portal.
Sebastian shifted his weight and studied her. There was a change in her. He wondered… “That was your boyfriend, up to no good. You saw that, right?”
“He was trying to eat my dragon!”
Sebastian jolted. Inside, he was a mass of exploding fireworks. “You remember your dragon? What else do you remember?”
She shook her head and gazed at the grass off to the side. “I don’t know. It’s all kind of hazy.” She looked back at Sebastian. “Was that my dad?”