by Donna Grant
The dragon band was a sign of her warrior ability. All Fae knew what it meant for a woman to wear one. Aimery had been protecting her, giving her a chance to find a way to surprise Isran with her skills. She put the dragon on her arm, its head pointed toward her as its blue eyes winked at her through the candlelight.
She rose to her feet and walked to Aimery. By his furrowed brow and pinched lips he was in pain. If only she could heal him. She dipped her fingers into the goblet and ran them over his lips, wetting them.
“Come back to me, Aimery.”
Once more he had stopped bellowing her name, and she used the time to wet his lips. He shifted his arm, and blood welled from a wound on his wrist to roll down his arm.
“What are you doing?” she asked and wiped away the blood.
She put her finger between his wrist and the manacles and felt the rusted metal. She winced when the metal cut into her skin. Kyndra jerked her finger out and started to wipe away the blood when it healed.
She blinked. With her heart pounding in her chest, she cut her finger again, deeper this time, and just as before, it healed.
“This cannot be.”
Isran had taken her magic. He had told her he was the one to heal her, but had he spoken the truth? Had he returned her magic instead? If so, why?
Her head began to pound as she tried to understand what had happened. With everything going on with Aimery, she hadn’t had time to wonder why she hadn’t begun to go daft. Now she knew. Isran had given her back her magic.
Kyndra put her hands on either side of Aimery’s face and tilted his head until she could see all of him. “Aimery, please. It’s me, Kyndra. Open your eyes. Aimery, open your eyes.” He did nothing to give her any sign that he had heard her. Kyndra had never felt so alone in all her life. She was no match for Isran magically. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck.
“I can’t fight him. I need you.”
After a deep breath, she lowered her arms and took a step away from him. The first thing she had to do was get him out of the chains. There had to be something Isran wanted, and she would discover what it was.
The door to Aimery’s chamber opened. Isran leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest and a triumphant smile on his face. “Have you figured it all out yet?”
“When did you return my magic?”
“After I carried you to your new chamber.”
She nodded, hating him anew. She had begun to think him misunderstood but, then again, that had been his intention. He liked keeping her guessing. It was nothing but a game to him, but she could also play games.
Kyndra faced him. “What do you want?”
“Power. I can never have enough.” His gaze narrowed, and he pushed off the door.
“What do you have on your arm?”
She smiled and turned her arm to look at the dragon cuff. “This? It’s mine.”
“You’re a warrior?”
“Oh, aye, Isran. A warrior priestess, leader of the Blue Order.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Perfect!”
She had thought to give him pause with her title, but a sickening feeling fell into the pit of her stomach. “What is perfect?”
“You,” he said and walked around her. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “You are the answer to all my plans.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what those plans were when he took her by the elbow and dragged her out of the room. Kyndra glanced over her shoulder to see Aimery’s eyes open.
And looking at her.
Chapter Seventeen
Aimery shook his head to clear his mind. He must be hallucinating again. It was the smell of jasmine and sunshine that had pulled him out of his madness, given him time to inflict more pain on himself.
Kyndra’s whispered words had stilled his heart, because he had known instantly it was really her. He had tried to talk to her, to whisper her name, but his voice no longer worked. Each swallow was like needles going down his throat.
And then Isran had come into the room.
Aimery had tried to listen to them, but their voices were muffled, as if in a tunnel. When he was finally able to open his eyes, it was to see Isran leading Kyndra out of the chamber. The only thing that let Aimery know he hadn’t imagined her scent was the dragon on her arm.
None of the illusions Isran had put before him had worn it, which meant it really had been Kyndra with him. If only he had realized it sooner, he could have talked to her, touched her.
He yanked on the chains, yearning for his magic like never before.
His mind whirled, jerking him down into a pit that threatened to never let him out.
Aimery fought against the lunacy, daring himself to believe in Kyndra, to hope.
“Kyndra,” he whispered. “You’re not alone.”
But it was too late. She was gone from him once again.
* * * * *
Hope sprung in Kyndra’s chest. Aimery had opened his eyes, he had seen her. Maybe somehow she had reached him. She didn’t know how but, if she could get back to him, maybe she could talk to him. Together, she had no doubt they could figure out a plan to stop Isran. Isran’s fingers dug into her arm. She refused to let him know he had hurt her. When he wasn’t able to get a response that way, he quickened his steps, causing her to trip over her skirts and fall to her knees.
He yanked her up, his lips pulled back in a sneer. “Your thoughts betray you, priestess.” A shiver of apprehension raced down her spine. “I’ve blocked you.”
“Did you not believe me or Aimery when we told you black magic was stronger than Fae magic? You can put up all the measly defenses you have, and yet I’ll be able to break through every one of them.”
“So you know I want you destroyed. You’ve known that from the beginning. Why get upset over it now?”
He gave her a jerk. “Upset? I’m not upset.”
“Really?” She noted the tick at the corner of his left eye.
“Oh, I’m not at all happy that you were able to break through to Aimery but, in the end, I think it will be to my benefit.”
Kyndra wrenched herself out of his grasp. “What are you talking about?”
“While you’ve been…healing…I’ve been playing mind games with Aimery. Again and again I put an illusion of you in his chamber. It was quite funny the first ten times to see him try to talk to the illusion, to touch her.”
Kyndra swallowed, the bile rising in her throat. “All the goodness that made you a Fae is completely gone, isn’t it?”
“Every last drop, priestess.”
She steeled herself and fisted her hands at her side. “What do I have to do to get you to release Aimery?”
“There’s just one thing I want from you.” He took a step toward her and touched her cheek.
Kyndra had to fight to keep from jerking away, but she would do whatever he wanted for Aimery. “What is that?”
“Perform the ceremony.”
“The ceremony? What ceremony?”
He dropped his hand, his gaze narrowed in laughter. “As a priestess of the Order, a leader of the Blue Order, you don’t know?”
“Apparently not.”
“Now that is amusing. What was Julieth thinking in not informing at least you of the consequences should I take over Thav?”
Kyndra shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I do. You see, my sweet, not only do I bathe in the yolk of the egg, but I need a priestess of the Order to infusion the dragon with me.” Her heart slammed into her rib cage, threatening to burst from her chest. “You must be jesting. Julieth would have told me. In any event, she would never have dared to send me.”
“But she did. Why is that?”
“You must have it wrong. There doesn’t need to be a ceremony. I’m not needed.” She didn’t know why she gave him the power of that knowledge, but his words had confused her, frightened her. It put into question everything Julieth had
ever told her, and that wasn’t good.
Isran shrugged. “Believe what you want, but I’m right. You want to save Aimery from his madness, then join me.”
Kyndra looked at the hand he held out for her. What he asked went against everything she had lived for, everything she had come to fight against. She loved the dragons, but her love for Aimery was more.
A tear spilled down her cheek as she realized she had fallen in love with the Commander.
And she would never get the chance to tell him.
“I’ll do it, but you have to return Aimery to our realm.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I cannot help you.” Kyndra was determined to see him safe. She didn’t like bargaining with his life, but it was a gamble she had to take. For as long as Isran was willing.
Isran beckoned to her with his fingers. “Come, come, priestess. You don’t want Aimery to suffer more do you?”
A strangled bellow of pain came from Aimery’s room.
“I will release him from his bonds, but Aimery stays in Thav,” Isran said. “It’s my final offer.”
“You need me. You will be willing to forgo your ceremony without me?”
“I’ll have you one way or another, priestess. Take what I’m offering before I change my mind.”
Kyndra looked at his hand and knew in her heart this was her last chance for Aimery. She put her hand in Isran’s. “Release Aimery. I’ll perform your ceremony.” The smile on Isran’s face made her blood run cold.
“Come. There is much to prepare.”
Kyndra glanced at Aimery’s chamber. “Can I see him? To make sure you’ve released him?”
“I keep my promises,” he said and pulled her after him. “You can see him later. That I vow.”
She had no choice but to go with Isran, even though every fiber of her being told her to go to Aimery. She wanted to see him once more before he realized what she had become, before he sensed the black magic within her. Kyndra had known taking Isran’s deal would seal her fate, but she had done it anyway. Maybe once she learned how to control the black magic she could attack him and end it all.
They descended several flights of stairs and traversed a maze of corridors before they reached a set of double doors at the end of a hallway. Isran pushed them open and motioned her inside.
Kyndra wasn’t surprised at the opulent surrounds of the chamber. It was rectangle with an arched ceiling. A rug of deep crimson ran down the middle of the chamber to the gilded throne that set on a raised landing.
Large candelabras of gold hung from the walls, and guards stood along the chamber, long spears in their hands. Movement in a corner caught her eye as she and Isran walked to his throne.
That’s when she saw what looked like a large birdcage, and inside was a man, his dark eyes solemn as he gazed at her.
“Priestess, let me introduce Eldar, the previous ruler of Thav.” A lump of sympathy formed in her chest at the haggard appearance of the old man, bent with age. His face was wrinkled, and his shoulder length hair was snow white. He gripped the bars of the cage, and Kyndra noted that his hands didn’t shake.
“That’s what being in control of Thav without the benefit of a dragon’s egg will do to you,” Isran whispered in her ear. “He looks frail, but he isn’t. His mind is sharper than ever.”
“Then how did you get control?”
Isran laughed. “Men are easily swayed with the promise of power and coin. Eldar thought his men loyal to him. He was wrong.”
“Will you make that same mistake?”
“I’m not that foolish. In my position, you can trust no one.” She snorted. “Yet, you are trusting me to perform the ceremony.” He turned her to face him, his fingers biting into her shoulders. “Don’t even think of trying something, priestess. I will kill you in a blink.” She took his threat seriously and nodded so he would release her. Kyndra took a deep breath when Isran walked to the throne and lowered himself in the huge chair. He beckoned her forward and, though she didn’t want to be near him, she lifted her skirt and climbed the steps.
“I knew you would look lovely in that gown,” Isran said. “I have no doubt once you get your first taste of black magic, you will understand why it’s so seductive. The power, the energy that courses through you.” He took in a deep breath. “There’s nothing like it.”
“You are sure of what it will do to me.”
He laughed. “My dear priestess, no one can withstand it. No one.”
“What will you do to me once I finish the ceremony?”
His finger caressed up her arm. “I have plans for you, plans that you will, no doubt, enjoy as much as I do.”
The thought of him touching her body, caressing her, kissing her as Aimery had done left her sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t worry about that now. There was so much more to think about.
“Where is the egg?”
Isran smiled. “In due time. First, we must begin your lessons.”
“Lessons?”
“What Julieth didn’t tell you is that if a priestess of the Order turns to black magic, she will have the power to bind the dragon to someone. The binding will increase my power a hundredfold. I won’t just be invincible, priestess, I will be inexorable.” Kyndra’s knees threatened to buckle. “Why wouldn’t she tell me? Never before has that been spoken in the Order.”
“There is much about black magic that isn’t spoken about in the Fae realms.”
“Then how do you know of it?”
He chuckled. “It isn’t just power I gain with the use of my magic, priestess. It’s knowledge. Secrets long held about black magic, its source, its power, its strengths are given to the users. Soon, you will understand what I mean.”
Kyndra was angry that Julieth hadn’t told her of the ceremony. She understood why it wasn’t taught in the Order but, knowing what they were up against, Julieth could have told her before they arrived on Thav.
Did Aimery know?
She liked to think he didn’t, but what frightened her more than anything was the little thrill that shot through her at the knowledge that she would gain strength in her magic. She told herself it was to fight Isran, but she wasn’t sure how true that was.
“Ready?”
Kyndra turned her gaze to his. “Nay.”
“Don’t fight it. I see the excitement in your eyes, the yearning to learn if black magic is as luring as everyone says.”
“You’re misreading my hatred for you for excitement.”
Isran threw back his head and laughed. “The more I’m around you the more I realize what captivated Aimery so.”
The mention of Aimery sent a stab of longing through her heart.
Isran rose so that she faced the doors they had entered. His mouth moved to her ear as he stood behind her. “To use black magic is very simple, priestess.” As he spoke two guards walked into the chamber dragging a young boy. They threw the boy down, his torn and bloodied tunic falling off his shoulders as he turned to face them.
“He’s a thief,” Isran whispered.
“What did he steal?”
“A loaf of bread. The price for thievery is death.”
Kyndra tried to ignore the boy’s gaunt frame, the welts and bruises staining his fair skin.
He was starving, yet he stood with his shoulders back and his head high as he waited for the guards to attack.
On her realm, no one killed. To kill was to use black magic. If there was a crime, the criminal went before a judge and jury and learned his sentence. Murder was not tolerated on the Realm of the Fae.
Despite that, Kyndra couldn’t allow the boy to be killed because he lacked the coin to buy food. She fisted her hands and tried to look away as the guards pulled their swords from their scabbards, the sound echoing in the chamber.
To give the boy credit, he didn’t flinch or beg for his life. He had known the consequences for his actions, and he had taken a chance. But he was just a child, a starving child.
Isran move
d her hair so his lips could graze her ears. “What will you do?” Kyndra fisted her hands. The laws of Thav were in place for a reason. Who was she to challenge them?
He’s just a boy!
Her gaze was locked on the guards. Their weapons pulled back, ready to strike.
Time slowed as she watched the blades plunging toward the boy’s small chest. What kind of Fae would she be to let a child die for trying to give himself nourishment? Her eyes closed.
She gave in to the need to save the child.
A surge of power rushed through her, startling her with its ferocity, its allure. Her eyes flew open and lips parted as she gasped. Just as her knees gave out, Isran’s arms wrapped around her.
“See how easy that was, priestess,” he murmured in her ear. “You can feel the magic pulsing through you, strengthening your power the same time you’re gaining knowledge.” The chamber spun around her. She had merely saved the boy’s life. How could that have taken her toward black magic? Her gaze found the boy who stood over the two guards lying motionless on the floor.
“You killed them. For the boy.”
Kyndra shook her head at Isran’s words. She hadn’t meant to kill them, just protect the defenseless boy. “Nay.”
“Don’t fight it,” Isran urged. He turned her so that he lifted her in his arms. “There’s no turning back now, priestess.”
Chapter Eighteen
Aimery rolled onto his back and groaned at the aches pounding through his body.
Sunlight filtered through the window. How many days he had slept, he wasn’t sure. He pushed the sheet from his body, noting that he was still naked. His nose itched, but he was afraid to lift his hand for fear it wouldn’t work after hanging so long in the chains.
But the itch wouldn’t be ignored. His finger found the tip of his nose and scratched without too much pain. A heartbeat later he realized he was in his bed. All thoughts of pain fled as he jerked upright in search of Kyndra. One glance around his chamber confirmed he was alone.