Tamed by the Fire

by Maxine Mansfield

  The words of the sacred oath of the Paladins of Albrath floated back through her memory, filling her heart, feeding her soul.

  “From this day forward, ’til time is no more. I pledge you my dagger, I pledge you my sword. I pledge you my service, I pledge you my brawn. I pledge you my heart ’til my last breath is drawn.”

  She had meant those words with all the conviction a young girl’s soul could hold on the day she’d sliced her finger and mixed her blood with Obsidian’s, then crossed her heart, kneeled before the huge black dragon, and recited them out loud. Though she was now silent, Kitrina meant them even more today.

  She sighed as she closed the volume she’d been searching and reached for the next book in the tall stack before her. She still hadn’t found what she was searching for, and oath or not, sunlight was wasting.

  Kitrina hesitated a moment before she opened the next volume. Was this the one? Perhaps this very text would hold the answer. And what if it didn’t? What then? What if not one of the books in this huge library, or any library anywhere, could positively prove that the Stone of Anthion and the Dragon Heart Opal weren’t one and the same?

  Would she then be forced to take the life of someone she’d begun to care about as a possible friend? She hoped with all her heart Maycee was exactly who she said she was and not who Katrina suspected her to be. But there had been little clues in her research, glimpses of unguarded looks, private whisperings with Asla, feelings like the ones she experienced even now. Animosity flowed in her direction from across the room where Maycee sat. It was like a wet steady breeze, chilling to the bone, and as cold as death.

  She pushed back her concerns and flipped the first page. Be she paladin or no, be she female instead of male, and be Maycee friend or foe, in the end, it didn’t matter. An oath was an oath, and as long as she breathed and wore the Dragon Heart Opal about her neck, she would do whatever needed to be done to protect not only every dragon on Albrath but also everyone she held dear. And God Draka help anyone who dared stand in her way.

  ****

  Marquart watched Kitrina nonchalantly read, as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and seethed with hatred. Even with Ten and Levin close by, it would be so easy to end her worthless life right here and now. The stupid chit’s back was completely open and vulnerable…again. Like so many other times over the last few weeks. She’d deserve it, was practically begging for it even.

  It took all the willpower Marquart could muster not to simply toss her dagger and bury it deep in the heart of the useless human female and grab what should rightfully be hers.

  She didn’t, though. Even if she’d been sure she could’ve taken out both Ten and Levin afterward and gotten away cleanly, it wasn’t yet time. She’d carefully plotted Kitrina’s untimely death over and over in her mind in multiple scenarios. She’d hoped for it, planned it, and dreamed about it but couldn’t afford to carry through with the execution of it. At least not until she found a way around the stupid stone’s affinity for the human.

  If there was one thing she had learned from her forced closeness to the wannabe rogue paladin, it was that if Kitrina were to die, the gemstone she constantly wore about her neck would magically disappear. Poof, gone, no longer within reach.

  According to what Marquart had researched about the Dragon Heart Opal/ Stone of Anthion, the process of ingraining herself into the trust of the next heir in line would then have to begin all over again. She shuddered at the prospect.

  She was so VoT sick of being nice to anyone let alone…humans, and she certainly didn’t want to deal with any more of them than was absolutely necessary. Except perhaps at the end of her blade or locked away in her dungeon for entertainment.

  That brought a smile to her face, but it didn’t take care of her current problem.

  There had to be some way around the link between the stone and its wearer that she simply hadn’t discovered yet. And it wasn’t as if she could glean that information out of Kitrina without getting her alone or vulnerable enough to really question her. Or in the very least giving her a good enough reason to reveal the information willingly.

  They should’ve been alone right now. Tonight’s carefully thought out plans depended on privacy.

  Marquart glanced at Ten and Levin, the half barbarian, half halflings, or as she liked to think of them, the barfling brothers, and her temper flared even hotter. They weren’t supposed to be here. This was supposed to be an all-female outing. But was it? VoT no. The two thickheaded bodyguards sat on either side of the little human chit, so close not even a mosquito could get between them.

  Getting Kitrina completely alone and vulnerable any time in the near future was going to be a trick with Zander, the overly possessive barbarian, making sure his precious little gemstone wearer was always well guarded even when he wasn’t around. But then Zander Hammerstrike hadn’t counted on Marquart’s ingenuity and perseverance, now had he?

  She laughed out loud, and the barfling brother’s heads turned. Marquart smiled innocently and batted her eyelashes at them. They quickly looked away.

  Yes, she had a very good idea how to go about discovering just what knowledge she needed in order to procure the Stone of Anthion for her own use. And if she didn’t succeed tonight, then another opportunity would, without a doubt, present itself. One always had and one always would.

  After all, she was special, always had been. From the moment she was born, she had been destined for greatness and power. She’d even received the honor of becoming one of only four immortals on Albrath. An honor that lasted for almost nine hundred years. If that wasn’t a sign that the gods wanted her to succeed, then what was? Nothing was going to stop her. Not the passage of time, not death, and certainly not the stupid human chit, Kitrina Dragonheart.

  But what if her plot for this evening didn’t bring about the results she was counting on?

  A backup plan began to form in her mind. It grew, it expanded, and it took shape. So if she didn’t manage to succeed tonight and failed to find an opportunity to get Kitrina alone at The Academy in the very near future, she’d just have to give the worthless human an irresistible reason to sneak away unguarded.

  She couldn’t really afford to wait much longer. Even now, she felt herself aging. Everyday a new wrinkle, a new ache, a new pain. She didn’t have time to play nice. She couldn’t and wouldn’t waste what few years she had left being miss proper troll, Maycee, when there were other…options.

  After all, Yulemass was less than a quarter turn of the third moon away, and another entire season would be gone without her possession of the only object that could ensure she’d have an easy death when the time came. And not simply an easy death, but a one way ticket, no questions asked, straight ride through the gates of the gods into paradise.

  With the numerous atrocities she’d committed over the last almost nine centuries, Marquart had no doubt that possessing the Stone of Anthion was the only way she’d ever be invited into the Haven of Souls. The only other option, being cast into the Valley of Torment, wasn’t on her to do list. And since she’d never been one to bow before or ask anyone, even a god, for anything, especially forgiveness when she wasn’t sorry for taking what she felt was rightfully hers to take, why should she have to? Guilt and regret were for the weak. Not for her.

  No one had ever dared call Marquart weak.

  Yes, Yulemass could very well be the answer to all her problems if it came to that. It would be perfect timing and oh so fitting. After all, wasn’t it the normal time of the year to reunite with family and loved ones? Wasn’t it an occasion of goodwill and giving of one’s self? A time of unmitigated cheer? A moment to stop and remember what was really important in one’s life?

  Just what would Kitrina be willing to give up or do in order to save those who weren’t fortunate enough to wear the Dragon Heart Opal around their necks? In the spirit of Yulemass, of course?

  Marquart cackled, though there wasn’t anything remotely funny about the sound.


  Kitrina, Ten, Levin, and even Asla turned and looked at her in surprise. Their confusion only served to make her laugh harder.

  ****

  Kitrina yawned and quickly covered her mouth to stifle it as the third wave of to-the-very-marrow-of-her-bones tiredness enveloped her. She gave up and closed the book she’d been so diligently trying to study and laid her head upon the cool leather of its binding.

  What on Albrath was wrong with her?

  It wasn’t that late. And she hadn’t worked that hard. The sun had barely begun to set, and the three moons of Albrath were not yet remotely visible through the wide open windows encircling the library’s high walls. And still, she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes from fluttering shut time after time. As a matter of fact, it had been all she could do to make it through the end of the short dinner break she’d taken with her friends less than a single turn of the hourglass ago.

  Kitrina forced her eyes open once more and glanced toward Ten and Levin. They were both so deeply asleep that they were snoring in tandem. Asla was draped across Levin’s lap like his personal security blanky, and his arm was flung haphazardly around her waist. Her feet were nestled in Ten’s crotch, and a satisfied smile graced the first-born and heir to the Limburger dynasty’s face.

  A thin line of drool upon her chin was the only thing to mar Asla’s near perfect barbarian continence. Even though they had become, if not…friends, then at least not out and out enemies, the thought brought a smile to Kitrina’s face.

  Turning her head, she searched for the one missing group member, Maycee, and finally found the female three rows away with her head resting upon her arms on the top of the table. A book lay open before her, and the troll’s breathing seemed regular and relaxed.

  Perhaps too regular and relaxed?

  Kitrina yawned again and tried without success to keep her eyes fully open. Something wasn’t right here. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something just beyond her scope of understanding. But since all of her companions were also apparently as affected by this sudden, overwhelming tiredness as she was, perhaps it really was nothing more sinister than the effects of too much good food and way too much free flowing wine.

  What would it hurt to give in just this one time and let her guard down for a few moments? After all, they were all alone here. Not even a fulltime librarian was on site. Even though it had been built less than fifteen years ago, the central library on the Isle of Shak-spere had become so sacred to everyone, not even the most evil citizen of Albrath would dare harm a single page of a single book within its walls. And the only other possible threat to her person was if she were wrong about Maycee, who was apparently as sound asleep as Kitrina wanted to be.

  She shook her head. No, she shouldn’t give into the fatigue. Something was definitely wrong. She could sense it. It would be a mistake to succumb to the exhaustion, and Zander would be angry if she did. She should fight it.

  But always being the responsible one, the strong one, the self-reliant one, was more of a tedious task today than Kitrina was up to. And a teensy quarter turn of the hourglass nap just might be what she needed to clear the fog in her brain. Couldn’t it? And who would be the wiser?

  Yes, that’s what she’d do. One quarter, no more than a half turn of the hourglass nap at the very most, and then right back to being responsible, vigilant, and alert.

  With the decision made, Kitrina smiled as warmth filled her. It flowed as freely as the blood coursing strongly through her veins. Peace enveloped her, blanketed her, snuggled her in close, and held her tight, safe. With a deep breath and a single long sigh, the memory of Zander’s angry face, the library, the dangers she faced, the quest, even all of Albrath itself, slipped silently into oblivion.

  Kitrina slept.

  ****

  Zander woke from a sound sleep with a start and jumped to his feet. Quickly, he dressed, slid his dagger snug into the sheath on his belt, and slipped his broadsword through the scabbard on his back as he headed for the door. Thunder roared somewhere far off in the distance.

  Something was wrong. He knew it, could feel it. His spiritmaster sensibilities were once more bombarding him from every direction like tiny pinpricks of lightning shooting straight through his skull.

  Even though he was tempted to ignore and not trust them after what happened with the dwarf Wizzit, he didn’t. He’d learned long ago what the consequences of doing that could be. His best friend, Talon, still carried the scars of the one other time he’d failed to pay heed to his gift when he should’ve.

  Though he’d never attained the ability to truly read minds like his Aunt Lark could, he had received an almost eerie knack of knowing when someone was lying to him, or if a person he cared for was in danger. And right now, Katrina wasn’t just in a little danger. She was in a dire situation and wasn’t even aware of it. As a matter of fact, he had the oddest feeling that right at this moment, Kitrina wasn’t aware of much of anything.

  He had to get to her, and he had to get to her now.

  “What the VoT?” Zander cursed as he tripped over what could only be Talon Starkweather’s big feet.

  Talon immediately woke. “Going somewhere?”

  Zander growled. “What the VoT are you doing lurking out here in the hallway? Why aren’t you in your own bed? You know as well as I do there’s no need to guard my door tonight. Kitrina isn’t here. Go get yourself a decent night’s sleep for once.”

  Talon chuckled. “Hmm. And just what has you up and about at this hour, Zander? Missing her, going to check on her perhaps? Give it up, you’ve been caught. Just where are we off to?”

  Zander opened his mouth but Talon shook his head. “And before you try, don’t even bother with some half-baked story that’s only going to insult my intelligence and piss me off. We’ve known each other much too long for that crap.”

  Zander sighed. “You’re right, my friend, we have. Now get your big ol’ barbarian’s arse up off that floor and let’s get moving. Time’s wasting and Kitrina’s in trouble. I…feel it. ”

  No more questions were asked.

  ****

  Once the room was completely quiet except for the rhythmic breathing of slumber, Marquart listened for the space of another ten grains of sand through the hourglass before slowly lifting her head from the table top and glancing in Katrina’s direction.

  “It’s about VoT time,” she grumbled.

  It had certainly taken the stupid little human chit and her companions long enough to fall into a mindless stupor. Next time she’d add two healthy dollops of the elixir, Oblivion of Truth, to each bottle of wine instead of just one, and she wouldn’t care if they overdosed and never woke up. That is, if another round of questioning became necessary. She hoped it wouldn’t. Marquart hated wasting time, especially hers.

  On tiptoes, she made her way to the barfling brothers and poked Asla in the shoulder to get her attention. “Get up,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

  The stupid barbarian female had the audacity to swat her hand away and snuggle deeper into the lap of the one called Levin.

  Marquart pinched her left arm…hard.

  Startled, Asla jumped. “Oww! Why’d you do that?” she cried.

  Marquart clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up. If yout wake these two idiots, I swear I’ll kill every last one of yout.”

  Asla became deathly quiet.

  Marquart studied her for a moment. “Yout drank some of the wine, didn’t yout? Even after I warned yout not to.”

  At first, Asla shook her head, then she nodded. “Just one sip, though, I swear. I didn’t want anyone to become suspicious.”

  Marquart sighed. “God Draka, save me from fools. Let’s get started. This stuff only lasts so long.”

  Together, they made their way to Kitrina, and Marquart handed Asla a smudged piece of parchment. “Ask her the first question and be quick about it.”

  Asla grimaced. “Why me? If you want to know something, why not just ask her your—”
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  Marquart leveled her blade against the smooth skin of the barbarian female’s throat. “I wouldn’t want Kitrina to remember later that it was I asking questions. And, yout father promised yout help, but if yout aren’t any good to me in this, then what good are yout at all?”

  Asla gulped, gripped the parchment tightly, and read the first question. “Is the Dragon Heart Opal and the Stone of Anthion one and the same?”

  Kitrina mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep.

  Marquart seethed. “What the VoT did she say?”

  “How should I know?” Asla shrugged.

  A heartbeat later, Marquart had the tip of her dagger pressed against the pulse point of Kitrina’s throat instead of Asla’s. “I’m so fucking sick of this shit. If the stupid human can’t or won’t answer my questions, I’ll simply kill her worthless ass right now and go on to the next in line. With her out of the way, I bet her little sister, Lara, wouldn’t be so reluctant to give me what I need.”

  Asla grabbed Marquart’s hand and pulled the blade from Kitrina’s exposed skin. “No, please, don’t kill her. I’ll get her to talk. I swear I will.” Her face reddened and she stuttered. “Not that I re-re-really care if K-Kitrina Dragonheart lives or dies, mind you, but Ten and Levin were sent here specifically to guard her and they would be b-blamed if she’s harmed.”

  Marquart laughed. “What do yout care what happens to the barfling brothers?”

  Asla’s face lost all trace of color and she gulped. “I don’t, not really.”

  Marquart cackled. “Yout like them, don’t yout?” She shook her head. “Perhaps even more than just like. My, how far the lofty have fallen.”

  Asla’s eyes filled with tears. “So what if I do? They treat me like I’m a real person, like I’m special to them. No one has ever been as good and kind to me as they are. I just don’t want to see them hurt, that’s all.”