Coughing, Amicia curled, sputtering as she regained her awareness. “Where am I?” she managed.
Soothing her, Lamwen gently caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You are safe, my queen.”
“Lamwen?” she breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes.
“It is I,” he agreed, his lips drawn into a thin line. “You were distracted with your father when I was transformed –”
“My father!” she gasped, cutting him off as she tried to sit up. “Where is my father?” she demanded more sternly.
“He remains by the brook,” Meena explained, offering her a warm cup. “Do not struggle, my child. Ziradon is safe. Animir has volunteered to nurse him, and I dare say none among us could do so well.”
Turning to rest against her husband, who remained beside her, she accepted the drink. Sipping from it noisily, her thoughts remained fuzzy. “How did I get here?”
“I carried you, princess,” Lamwen explained, puffing his chest with pride.
“The Mate and I were hardly able to walk,” Rey countered, “or I would have.”
“Please don’t fight,” she scowled, picking up on their posturing. “Why did this happen?”
“Meddling with magic, that’s why,” Meena snapped, glaring at the Mate. “I warned you transfiguration was not as easy as it might sound, and I was correct. It has a side effect that can kill you if you continue to do it.”
“I see,” Amicia breathed, still feeling as if her skin were not her own. “Will I recover?”
“Yes, but only in time,” Lamwen informed her. “When we go back to our dragon forms, we will be forced to remain there.”
Glaring at him, Rey breathed deeply. He didn’t want the debate to end there, but he didn’t want to upset the girl, so he kept it short. “If you go back, love.”
“Of course, she’ll go back,” the Mate countered. “She’s a dragon. But let’s not argue over it right now. The meal is almost ready. We should eat and all have a rest. When our heads are clear, we will decide our next move.”
Serving the bowls, the group ate in a strained silence. Nothing had gone their way in a very long time, or so it seemed. Sitting under a tree, sandwiched between troll country and dwarf mountain, they were probably surrounded by wolves; it did not appear their luck had improved.
Hours later, the group had slept away the day. The sun had moved to early evening, and Animir had come with word of their situation. Climbing down into their new quarters, he noted the beds and stools, almost as they had been when Sevoassi had resided there.
“You have restored his dwelling well,” he observed as the others stirred, returning the blood flow to their limbs.
“Aye,” Rey agreed, folding up his blanket to sit upon as he administered to his wife’s needs. “Are you feeling better, love?”
“I am far better than I was,” Amicia agreed, sitting up as well. “What news of my father?” she asked of the elf, fear quickening her pulse as she did so.
“I think he needs longer to recover,” Animir explained, pacing as much as their small haven would allow. “If he were still the Supreme Dragon, he could be taken to the gardens of Jerranyth. The magic of my kin would restore his fervor in no time.”
“Indeed,” Lamwen agreed, leaning against an earthen wall. “I have been nursed by the elves too many times to count, but that is impossible. If they didn’t turn us over to Gwirwen, they would kill him for sure.”
“They might not,” Amicia mused. “If he is to be the dragons’ distraction while she makes her own plans, Lady Cilithrand might be more than happy to help him survive.”
“Too risky,” the Mate spat. “We need another place we can go. The wolves haven’t noticed yet, but they will, and I do not fancy our second meeting.”
“The trolls,” Rey offered with a snap of his fingers. “Perhaps they would help us.”
“We didn’t part on very good terms,” Amicia reminded him with a shake of her head, “and we certainly can’t ask the dwarves.”
“Our options are limited,” Meena agreed, stirring the pot as she cut up the stew that would make their supper. “We must choose the one most likely to help and least likely to murder us.”
“We go to the trolls,” Ziradon growled through the narrow door, interrupting their chatter.
“Father!” Amicia gasped. Leaping to her feet, she forced them to climb the tiny steps to her freedom. “How did you get here?” she squealed, rushing to his side as he collapsed onto the dark earth.
The group following her out their hiding place, Piers and Animir brought their weapons, taking up guard. “Are we found?” Lamwen asked, standing behind Amicia as she fawned over her father.
“Not yet,” the Mate speculated, “but it will be more dangerous with him here. How did you get here?” he demanded, facing the dragon squarely.
“I fought my way through the trees,” he gasped. “I didn’t dare take flight. I’m sure you have noticed we are hunted by our kin.”
“I noticed,” Amicia sighed, glad they had transformed and would be more difficult to locate. “You think the trolls will help us?” she asked with a tear in her eye. “They had become friends to us, but we had a falling out before we left,” she lamented. Breathing deeply, she confessed, “I did something foolish, and it upset them.”
“All we can do is ask,” the old king gasped.
“I think I can transport him if need be,” Meena speculated. “All I need to know is where we are going.”
“To my cave,” Lamwen supplied with wide eyes. “I had a cave that I wintered in, to the north of your cabin. He should be safe there even if only for a few days.”
“Very well,” Meena agreed. “Then it is settled. Once darkness has fallen, we will move to the cave.”
“No,” Amicia snapped. “We will go, just the three of us. I will speak with Yaodus and inform him of our plight and ask his permission to be there.”
“Yaodus,” Ziradon chuckled, pleased at the sound of his name. “You are quite brave to face him, my dragoness.”
“I am not afraid of the troll,” she replied, grinding her teeth as she recalled the day they had met; the day he had killed Piers. “I am more afraid I might lose you so soon after we have freed you.”
“And if that is so, at least I die beyond the walls of my prison,” he huffed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
“He’s so weak,” Ami whispered, stroking his head and neck in turn.
Joining her, Lamwen rested his hand upon her back, enjoying the feel of her now that he had flesh with which to do so. “Let him rest, princess. We’ll take him to my cave, and he will find his strength once more.”
Free at Last
“See, what did I tell you,” Lamwen boasted as they arrived at his previous residence. “None will find him here.” He had insisted upon accompanying the party, his protectiveness of Amicia only growing in his mortal form.
“You should have gone with the others back to the camp,” Ami observed. “I could have found this place just as easily.”
“Hmph. Your husband would have liked that better,” he countered with a smirk.
Standing in the mouth of the cave, she looked up at his handsome new features, observing the shoulder-length grey hair and rugged chin that suited him. She had to admit, he made a handsome man, and Piers’s clothing fit him perfectly.
Exhaling loudly, she mumbled, “You have always been stubborn.” Turning her gaze to the cabin below, she stared at the remains with a sigh. “We have lost so much, Lamwen. But I fear it is not the end of our suffering, with the kingdom in ruins.”
“There is still hope, my lady,” he assured, using an arm to pull her against him. Inhaling her scent, he grinned, pleased with the tenderness the flesh of a mortal afforded him.
Leaning against him, she could feel the pull of his masculinity and drifted for a moment into the past. “I came to this cave in the darkness, snow all around me, to lie beneath your wing.”
“I remember,
” he whispered against her scalp, his chest aching with words he dared not speak aloud. “My fire burns for you, princess.”
Closing her eyes, she knew the profession was private, as Meena busied herself with their patient and would not have heard it even if he had not used the telepathy. Lifting her face to his, she kissed him, the feel of his lips scorching her as she lost touch with all but him for a moment, the purity of her love for him refusing denial.
Instantly, regret pulled her away from their intimate connection. “I have spoken my vow with Rey. How dare you tempt me so?”
“It is not I that temps you, my queen. Your heart knows the path that lies before you. You must return to your true form, and there your mortal cannot follow,” he decreed, his fingers brushing her cheek tenderly as they shared.
Seeing them against the light at the mouth of the cave, the older woman stiffened. Clearing her throat, Meena gently reminded them of her presence.
Pulling herself out of Lamwen’s grasp, Ami brushed her hands over her arms and torso as if removing the feel of him from her flesh. “I’ll go and visit with Yaodus,” she informed them quietly. “If I do not return by the dawn, you must leave this place without me.”
Exchanging a glance, Meena and the man-dragon both nodded, each hoping they would not be required to do so.
Leaving them, Amicia made her way across the north ridge alone, working her way to the cave the group had climbed to the night they fled the dragons’ fire. There, she made her way to the back wall, placing her hand flat against the hard surface. Pulling her merdoe free from between her breasts, she clenched it tightly in her palm. Closing her eyes, she whispered to herself, willing the cave to open to her and allow her access to the halls within.
A low rumbling breaking her trance, she stepped away as the stones bubbled and parted, presenting the entrance to the trolls hidden caverns. Taking a tentative step inside, she used the side to hold her balance while she tested the footing.
Assured it was sound, she made her way through the corridor, pausing to close the portal behind her, just as the troll king had done the night he let them in. Her pulse loud within her ears, it drowned out the sound of her feet crunching on the gravel below. Her chest tight, she breathed in shallow pants as she approached the warm glow of the great room and the fires therein.
Arriving at the central cavern, she paused at the edge to hide while she looked around. Her eyes darting over the wide space, families sat around fire pits, just as they had the last time they were there. Spying her target, gathered with his family, she swallowed anxiously. Raising her chin, she placed one foot in front of the other as she willed herself to leave the tunnel and cross the room.
Observing her before she ever got close, a silence fell across the space. All that saw only stared, motionless as they waited for her to reveal her intent.
“You came here alone?” Yaodus challenged when she stood before him.
“Not exactly,” she whispered, petrified for fear of what would become of Ziradon if she failed. “I have rescued my father, but he is injured. We have come to ask for refuge that he might heal.”
“Your father,” the old troll laughed loudly, then drew a deep breath. “Then you have seen the light within you.”
“I have found my dragon’s fire,” she agreed quietly. “I’ll grovel if I must,” she added, daring a step towards him before sinking to her knees. “Please help him. We have nowhere else to turn.”
“Desperation,” he sneered. “You would not have come otherwise,” he agreed.
Amicia felt hot, as if her blood boiled within her veins. “Do you wish me to beg?” she asked loudly, angered that he appeared unmoved by her plea. Swallowing the large lump in her throat, she raised her empty hands. “So be it. I beg of you, troll. Please do not let my father die.”
“A dragon king,” he laughed again quietly. “This I must see. Take me to him.”
“He is in a cave, the one Lamwen used to oversee us when we lived on the beach below,” she supplied readily, finding her feet. Standing next to him, she looked up at his towering height, a fleeting flutter of joy in her heart at the friendship they had shared. She wanted to apologize again for the rift between them, but it was not the time at that particular moment, as Ziradon’s life was on the line.
Raising his hand, he indicated the direction they must travel. Following him, a few of the others fell in behind her, and she kept her body rigid, prepared for the attack that could come at any moment. Keeping her eye on the form before her, she breathed in and out deeply through her nose, making every effort to keep herself calm.
Taking a passage out of the main room, it soon parted, and he opened a fresh tunnel. A moment later, they stepped out into the back of a dark cave. Inching their way in, a small fire burned along one of the walls, casting dancing light over the deep brown of Ziradon’s scales. Large gashes oozed blood over his emaciated frame. The wounds smelled of infection, and the scent of death was upon him.
His face scrunched, Yaodus inched his way forward, no longer holding his concern at bay. “Ziradon,” he called, “my old friend. What has become of you?”
Turning his head in the cramped space, large glassy eyes blinked in response. A loud cough hurt her ears in the small cavern, and tears streaked her cheeks as she reached her father’s head. Leaning against his neck, she wept. Please don’t die.
Standing beside her, the troll king laid his hand upon the wide snout, only then noticing Meena and Lamwen at the mouth of the cave. “You have returned,” Yaodus growled, his face wet with his own sorrow. “And you?” he asked of the unknown man before him.
“I am Lamwen, captain of the king’s guard,” the man-dragon announced, squaring his shoulders proudly as he did so.
“I see,” the troll grimaced. Returning his gaze to the injured beast, he sighed, “He needs elves’ medicine.”
“The elves are raiding the kingdom as we speak,” Amicia informed him, raising her chin. “We plan to stand against them now that our king is freed. If you cannot heal him, please give him a friendly place to die.”
Rocking his head in an odd bobble, the troll breathed loudly again, his chest burning with unspoken pain. “He will be welcome here, princess. Do not fear.”
“Then we will return in a few days to check his progress,” she assured, looking over her shoulder to see the other trolls had begun to assess his needs. “Thank you, Yaodus. You are a dear friend, and I have regretted the ill will that passed between us.”
“As have I, my queen,” he replied, dropping his palm from Ziradon’s snout and lumbering back into the Crimson Caves. Pausing at the tunnel, he placed his hand upon the wall, removing one of the bright red stones. Turning, he held it out to her.
Closing the distance between them, she accepted the gift, then looked up at him with wide green eyes. “Thank you,” she said firmly, glancing at the ruby red crystal, “but what is it for?” She suspected it a talisman of some kind, but she could guess for hours without divining its purpose.
“You cannot view the inside of our mountain,” he explained. “The golden orbs do not work here. If you use this stone, you will be able to see your father, even at a distance, and check his wellbeing. You may also use it to call to me if you wish.”
Staring at the sparkling rock, she smiled. “This is very kind of you, Yaodus. I shall guard it with great care.”
“As I will tend our Supreme Dragon with equally great care,” he agreed. “You must have quite an army if you intend to stand against the elves.”
“No,” she grinned wryly. “We have a few dragons, and of course the lot you knew when we were here. Less Bally. He was killed by daemons beneath the dwarf mountain.”
“Then you may use the stone to call us when you are ready to fight. I will hear your words, and my army will march for you when you have need.”
Amicia stared at him in disbelief. “I had no idea you even had an army,” she breathed.
“I use the term loosely,” he shrugged. �
�But if what you say is true, they will be at our mountain, tearing at the walls of our caves soon enough. Only a fool would refuse to give you aid to prevent such a dark day. We are not soldiers, but we will fight if you call upon us.”
Closing her hand around the stone, she nodded. “I would never mistake you for a fool. Thank you. I will check on my father often and call to you when the war has begun.”
One of Them
“I fear you have lost sight of our cause,” Jarrowan complained as he helped Lamwen construct a bunk for them, keeping his voice low as the rest of the group moved about, tending their daily chores.
Attaching the frame together, the other man-dragon laughed, “Then ask to be transfigured and return to our kind. My place is here, at least for the time being.”
“You think you can win her heart,” the younger dragon scowled, “but she has made a vow with the mortal. She will not break it to fall in love with you, nor will she return to her kin as long as he lives. Do you intend to kill him?”
Cutting his green orbs up at him, Lamwen growled, “I should do no such thing. Besides, you are mistaken. She loves me as dearly as the mortal. I have seen it in her eyes and tasted it in her kiss.”
“Kiss,” Jarrowan scoffed, hardly able to imagine such a thing. “Then you believe you can win her to your side despite her declaration to him,” he laughed. “What foolishness.”
“She is a dragon,” Lamwen grunted. “It is only fitting she should choose me over him in time. Until then, we might as well remain here. I had made many trips to the dragon’s lair before we were transformed, and I believe we have gathered all of them that we will. Our next move lies in other lands.”
“Other lands,” Jarrowan groaned, flopping his hands over his face and pulling them down in angst. “As dragons we ruled them all, and now we are weak as any human. Look at us, donning their cloths to hide our nakedness and wearing their boots to protect our tender feet.” He held up one of them, thinking of the trip Meena had made to the wizard markets to acquire them. “That wan is quite smart, though, even I must admit.”
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