by Julia Mills
Holding Mara safe within the cradle of his talons, Uther called to King, “Climb aboard. Let us get my mate to safety.”
Scrambling upon his back, the jaguar roared his satisfaction at the chance to soar among the clouds. Feeling the sides of Brennus’ large snout curl into a grin as the Dragon King took to the skies, Uther laughed to his feline friend, “Hold on tight, mo chara. Let us see if the Lair of my kin remains.”
Chapter Six
“You can’t trust him!” Alicia stormed, grabbing Mara by the upper arms and squeezing so hard the flat tips of her nails bit into the younger witch’s skin. “How can you dishonor daddy’s memory like that? Following his murderer like some damned little-lost puppy. It’s a disgrace.”
Looking into the eyes of her older sister, Mara opened her mouth to explain that the only reason she was anywhere near Cleland was to find evidence to take to the Witch’s Council. She wanted to announce that the Grand Draoi was in league with a demon and had indeed killed their father, as well as many other good witches. It broke her heart that her family thought she was a traitor, believed she would have anything to do with the man responsible for her father’s death if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. But she never got her chance.
“Mara, come now.” Cleland’s voice burst through her brain like a foghorn through the dark mist of a stormy might. The spell he’d used to invade her thoughts and force her compliance felt like a hive of angry bees attacking her brain with their nasty, little stingers.
Unable to say more than a few words, the youngest of the McKennon witches, whispered through gritted teeth, “Trust me, Allie, please.”
Unable to hold out any longer for fear her brain would explode, Mara pleaded with her eyes for her sister to understand as she was forced to leave their family home and race through the woods. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart felt as if it were caught in a vise. She hated that her family thought the worst of her. Wanted to tell them all that she was only doing what she thought was right.
But in the end, her good intentions paved her way to Hell on earth.
The memories swirled through her brain like a runaway funnel cloud, stopping and starting, jerking, and turning, until finally landing on one of Mara’s top ten worst recollections. Sure she was caught in some seriously screwed up version of ‘This Is Your Life: The Nightmare Edition’, she was helpless but to lay dormant as a stone and relive the horrible way she’d been forced to torture one of the best people she’d ever known, Calysta, the Grand Priestess of Earthen Witches.
“Please help me.” The Elder Witch’s mental whisper was filled with so much pain and desperation that it broke Mara’s heart, but she was just as helpless. Was being forced to do what Cleland commanded.
She’d been foolish. Thought she could outwit the Grand Draoi. Had tried to make him slip up. Thought she could get him to confess to killing hundreds of good witches and their families, but Cleland had outsmarted the much younger, inexperienced witch right out of the gates.
Mara had thought she was winning, was sure the bastard had no idea what she was up to. She’d even gone so far as to share her secret with one other person, a new recruit, a young girl she’d thought was worth saving, and that had been the biggest mistake. Angela had been a plant, someone Cleland knew Mara would trust, the person who had cost her everything. In the end, she’d been forced to hurt the Grand Priestess.
“She will not help you,” Cleland gloated. “She is unequivocally under my control.” The evil wizard hell-bent on ruling all the magic in the world, petted Mara’s hair as if she was no more than a dog as he went on, “Look at her, Calysta. Look at your little fallen angel.”
Grabbing a fistful of Mara’s hair, he shoved her face into the Priestess’, ramming the tips of their noses together so hard that the loud snap of bone echoed off the stone walls of Calysta’s cell. “Look into her eyes, oh great and wonderful Priestess.” Cleland’s voice dripped with sarcasm and malice. “See the darkness, the emptiness, the glorious blackened soul of a true follower of the Light turned into a helpless puppet of the Dark, one who has no thoughts of her own, a mere slave to do my bidding.”
Letting go of Mara’s hair so quickly that she crumbled to the floor, the Draoi continued to scoff. “Gone is that sweet innocent witch who trained at your side.” The tap of his cane followed by his dragging footsteps inched up Mara’s spine like tiny spiders looking for a place to hide. “You see, this girl, young and ambitious, thought she could outsmart me.” His footsteps stopped. Mara held her breath, looking as far to the side as she could without moving her head, holding her breath when she realized the pointed, iron toe of his black Ostridge-skin boot was even with her ribs.
Sure enough, she barely had time to brace herself before the evil asshole gave her a swift kick to the side, chuckling when her head hit the floor. Being helpless, caught in the Draoi’s web was horrible. She wished she’d listened to her sisters. Told them of her plan. Done anything to stop what she knew was about to come.
“So, today is the day, Calysta, my dear. As soon as my little minion here has prepared the brew for the spell and performed the ritual, you will be all too eager to give me the incantation that will call Thanatos.”
Mara watched behind the veil of her hair as Cleland’s thumb and forefinger dug into Calysta’s cheeks until rivulets of blood dripped onto the floor beneath the stone altar she was chained to. Unable to move, caught in a web of black magic so tight that sometimes it was hard to breathe, Mara held back her tears and prayed to the Goddess for the strength to fight back, but again…none came.
Reliving Calysta’s torture was brutal. It left Mara gasping for air, her heart beating so hard she was sure it would burst, and her soul so weary she doubted her ability to continue.
Dreams always bled into reality. It was hard to tell where one possession ended, and the other began. Cleland had been dead just a few minutes before Thanatos swooped into Mara’s battered and beaten soul, taking ownership, controlling her with an iron fist, forcing her to do things more despicable than she’d ever imagined.
Swirling in yet another cloud of despair and regret, Mara’s heart nearly leapt from her chest when she felt the warm reassurance of Uther’s mind. She’d never imagined he would truly come for her.
Summoning the scant bit of white magic she’d been able to lock away from Thanatos, Mara called to the Guardsman. Waiting a few seconds, forcing back the disappointment when he didn’t answer, she telepathically screamed his name again and again.
But still, there was no response…
Thanatos’ magic was too strong. It had replaced the blood in her veins and left her comatose.
Feeling dejected. Sure her last hope was about to fly away, Mara’s heart beat anew as Uther scooped her up from the hard floor of the cave and held her close. She shrieked his name, pouring whatever residual magic she could find in her effort to make contact, to thank him for what he was doing, but still, she couldn’t break through.
Soaring through the sky, tucked tight in the talons of Uther’s dragon, Mara held tight to the glimmer of hope her Guardsman had given her. She focused on the twinkling bond she shared with this special dragon, knowing in her heart that he was her mate, the only one who could wash the taint from her soul.
Fighting the exhaustion of a losing battle to reverse Thanatos’ spell, Mara was forced to once again succumb to the darkness. Wrapping herself in the glow of her link to Uther, she reveled in the feeling of safety, something she’d long forgotten, but gladly welcomed back.
Floating on a cloud, the cool winds whooshing by, the first restful sleep she’d had in ages was shattered as a gravelly whisper taunted, “Fly away home, little pet. Never fear, your master will soon follow.”
Chapter Seven
Looking down at the craggy rocks and deep jetty’s he played in as a child, Uther began his descent. Deciding to land on the highest ledge of the tallest mountain, he shifted back to human form with Mara in his arms as his feet touched down. Lan
ding right beside him, King, who had been asleep for most of their flight, clicked his tongue in gratitude while following the Guardsman into the mouth of the cave before them.
Following the scent of fresh water, Uther easily found his favorite grotto. Smiling at the lush foliage that grew from the cracks in the rock where the water trickled down the wall, he quickly made his way to the farthest corner of the cave. Taking the large, flat leaves of a philodendron, he made a pallet for Mara on the smooth, natural-stone bench, only leaving to jump in the pool when he was sure she was comfortable and safe from harm.
After several laps, sure most of the dirt and grime had been washed away, Uther swam to the side closest to his mate and took a seat on the underwater rock ledge. Looking down at his reflection in the soft waves of the water, the Guardsman could only shake his head at the vagabond looking back at him.
Running his hands through the long scraggly beard that hung to the middle of his chest, its whiskers gnarled and knotted, Uther chuckled, “I wonder if the lads will recognize me.” Looking up, he nodded to King, “If they will remember me?” Letting his head fall forward and his eyes close, he added with a whisper, “If they still draw breath?”
With a series of mews, tongue clicks and a growl from the jaguar, Uther felt the feline pushing reassurance through the bond they’d forged during their journey. Raising his head, the Guardsman looked deep into King’s amber eyes, searching for the recognition he could feel just out of reach at the edges of the big cat’s mind.
“Ye are more than ye seem, mo chara, of that I am sure. But with this black magic still polluting me body, I am unable to see what is right before me.”
Slowly blinking his eyes several times before lowering his head and rubbing his ear with the side of his paw, King hummed low in his throat. Rolling onto his back, all four of his paws in the air and his head thrown back, the jaguar grumbled a long series of chittering sounds while once again blinking his eyes.
Laughing aloud, a happy sound that filled the cavern but was incredibly rusty from lack of use, Uther teased his friend, “And now ye want me to believe that ye are yielding dominance to me”” Shaking his head and smiling, the Guardsman added, “I think ye are toying with me. Trying to have a bit of fun with the old guy.”
Returning to his upright lounging position, Uther swore he saw the jaguar smile as the big cat chittered along happily, even adding a few tongue clicks for good measure.
“Aye, see, I knew ye were just playin’ with me.” Laughing again as he dumped handfuls of water over the long, tangled lengths of his hair, Uther added with a wink, “I will forever be in yer debt for the help ye gave me in finding my Mara. If ye ever have need…”
Interrupting with an open mouth grumble, King got to his feet and slunk around the pool of water until his head was right behind Uther’s. Rubbing the side of his face against the back of the Avenger’s, the jaguar gave a low purr, acknowledging the friendship they’d forged.
Laying his hand on the opposite side of the big cat’s jaw, Uther agreed, “Aye, we are now brethren, for all time.”
Turning until he was facing Mara, the Guardsman nodded, “Without ye, I would not have her.”
Laying his hands on the edge of the pool, Uther lifted himself out of the water. Leaving a trail of water from his tattered pants as he made his way to his mate, he made sure she was still unconscious before laying down on the floor beside the bench and drifting off to sleep.
Dreams, not his but hers, came almost immediately. He watched as a young, bright-eyed Mara picked wildflowers from her mother’s garden and took them to the Guardsmen as they trained not far from her home. He saw family dinners, holidays with love and laughter, and felt the overwhelming affection she shared with her sisters. Although their meeting was nowhere near anything Uther ever had imagined it would be, Uther still took heart in the fact that he was able to touch his mate’s mind.
The deeper he fell into slumber, the darker her visions became. He saw Mara standing over a woman with long red hair and immense power. Watching closely, drawn deeper into the nightmare, he was snared by the miasma of conflicting emotions that swamped his mate. Uther couldn’t look away, no matter how heartbreaking and horrific, his mind’s eye was captured as his mate was forced to whip and torture the older witch chained to the stone altar.
His perception changed. Looking through his Beloved’s eyes, the Avenger’s soul cried out to stop the agony his little witch endured. Guilt, recrimination, and sheer panic filled Mara to the point that Uther feared she would simply collapse. It was obvious that only the repugnant taint of the black magic festering within her body and spirit kept Mara on her feet.
The tap of a cane followed by dragging footsteps caused Mara’s pulse to race and a cold sweat to run down her spine. Fighting against a power more formidable and much older than her own, she shook with rage.
“Ah, I see our guest is again being uncooperative,” the low rasp of Mara’s captor mocked, a split-second before the name Cleland echoed in the young witch’s mind.
Grabbing Mara’s raised hand and pulling the whip from her fingers, he scolded, “This is obviously not working.” Jerking her to him, the Draoi scowled as he let go of her wrist, instead pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he spat, “What were my orders, Mara? Tell me exactly. Leave nothing out.”
Her voice low and monotone, the exact opposite of the flood of anger, fear and regret streaming through her mind, Mara repeated, “Whip the Priestess no more than ten times. If she does not give me the spell, I am to begin rubbing iron salt into her wounds.”
“Exactly,” Cleland spat, shoving Mara’s face towards the Priestess while demanding, “And how many times did you whip her?”
“Twelve,” she ground out, trying with all her might to break the hold he had on her, knowing the black, caustic concoction in the marble bowl would hurt the Priestess far more than lashes from the whip.
“Exactly!” Cleland shouted, immediately letting go of Mara’s face and ordering, “On your knees, bitch.”
Dropping to her knees like a rock to the bottom of a lake, Mara’s nails dug into the stone floor. Adrenaline swamped her system as horrified anticipation of what she knew was coming filled her mind.
Raising the whip, Cleland thrashed the young witch with such fury and vehemence that when he finally stopped her back resembled a piece of raw meat, fresh from the grinder.
Throwing the whip to the ground, the Draoi turned and left without a backward glance as Mara collapsed to the floor.
Fighting his way out of the dream, unable to stand a moment more of his mate’s suffering, Uther sat straight up then immediately sprung to his feet. Rage beat at both man and dragon as they searched Mara’s memories for the location of the man she called Cleland.
Eventually finding that the Draoi was dead, the Guardsman couldn’t calm down, he needed to pace. Unrest and fury fueled his every movement. He had to find a Healer. Had to get Mara to wake up, and more than anything else, had to exorcise the demon squatting within her.
Feeling the pull of the moon, knowing it would be just a few minutes until the stars were twinkling in the sky, Uther called to King, “Come, mo chara. It is time to go home.”
Lovingly lifting Mara from the stone bench, he laid a gentle kiss upon her forehead, whispering, “Vengeance will be yers, mo chroí. That is my promise to ye. Ye are mine, and together we will be unstoppable.”
Making his way out of the cave and onto the ledge, Uther once again allowed Brennus to come forth, and with King on his back, and Mara in safely in his talons, the dragon set course for the Lair he prayed was still there. Using the mindspeak of his people, the Avenger once again tried to try to reach his brethren. Every mile they flew that he was unable to make contact, the more he feared that his brethren were already in the Heavens.
Landing in the clearing behind the forest that was part of the Blue Thunder Clan’s lands, Uther again took his human form. With Mara in his arms and King by his side,
he prayed to the Goddess of Al that he would find his Clan healthy and well as he hiked through the forest and up to the huge iron gates adorned with matching dragons in the heat of battle.
Listening to the hinges creak as he opened them with his mind, his senses were overrun with the scents and recognition of other dragons. His steps quickened as he marched through the gates, following the familiar path to the Grand Hall.
Still mentally calling to his brethren, unwilling to shout aloud as he took in the darkened windows of the houses they passed and knew his kin was sleeping, Uther slowed his steps. Raising his foot, ready to step on to the porch of the Grand Hall, the Avenger stopped midstride when the cold steel of the tip of a blade was shoved into the base of his neck.
“Hold it right there, stranger,” a deep, snarled warning commanded. “I’m gonna need you to turn around and state your business, along with how the hell you managed to get through our gates.”
Immediate recognition burst to life in Uther’s mind. Planting his foot back on the ground and turning as quickly as he could with a sword pointed at his neck, the Avenger grinned from ear-to-ear, snickering, “I see nothing has changed. Ye are still quick with a blade, Goldilocks.” He hoped calling his old friend by the nickname he’d been given as a young boy might jog the demi-god’s memory.
Narrowing his eyes and dropping his blade, the Guardsman with long blond hair and brilliant blue eyes who Uther had known since he was a boy took a second, harder look. Slowly shaking his head, his expression going from suspicious to amazed, a huge smile spread across his expressive face as Kayne whooped, “Son of a bitch, is that you Uth?”
Nodding, his grin spreading into a full, joyous smile, the Avenger nodded, “Aye, tis me, ya old sod and I’m in need of yer help.”