by Ann Gimpel
It should thank her for reining it in.
A sharp pain along one flank, followed by the stench of burning scales, told her she’d been hit by magical lightning. “Get us out of here!” she shrieked.
“Oh, so now you want my help,” the dragon snarked.
“Yes. Your magic is stronger than mine. I command you to—”
The dragon wheeled, flying higher, beyond the reach of the serpents’ lightning strikes. Katya recognized teleport magic a few seconds before they traded Antarctic shores for her lair deep within the earth. She added her own power to the dragon’s to obliterate all traces of their destination.
The dragon’s magic was good for big, flashy things while hers was more adept at dealing with subtleties. Her side ached, but it would heal. She hoped. She had yet to get a good look at the damage. Wounds forged by magic could be tricky to treat. The dragon brought them out in the great room. Katya waited for the teleport spell to fade before calling shift magic.
Her side burned with a fury of its own as her body reformed itself. The coppery smell of her own blood burned her nostrils before she felt a hot trail dribble down her ribs. Lifting an arm, she swiveled her head to assess her injury. Smoke steamed through clenched teeth as she regarded a long, jagged cut running from the midway point of her ribs to hip level along one side.
The edges of the gash had turned black, and they pulsed with dark magic. She could heal herself, but it would require time and concentration. First, she’d have to neutralize the sea dragons’ poison. Once that was done, her flesh would knit back together.
A wave of nausea told her she needed to hurry. Right now, the venom was localized, but it would spread. It wouldn’t kill her, but the longer she did nothing, the harder it would be to counteract.
Reaching up, she dragged her hair to the other side to reveal the length of the injury. It looked worst at the bottom, so she focused a beam of power on where the creeping black place was thickest.
And recoiled fast.
Her own magic shouldn’t hurt, but it felt like she’d flayed open flesh with a dull knife. What the unholy hell?
Breath caught in her dry throat, and she clenched her teeth. Her magic was similar enough to the serpents’ to have fed the putrescence, and the black horror was spreading fast. Katya switched spells and steeled herself as she tossed a different mix of power at the sinister enchantment dissolving her flesh.
Pain speared her, but she didn’t quit. It was like controlling the dragon. She couldn’t give in. If she did, the injury would outstrip her ability to corral it. Konstantin wasn’t here. If he were, he’d have sensed her distress and come running.
Sweat gathered, running freely down her body. Where it dripped into the wound, it stung worse than if a wasp nest had disgorged its residents, and all of them had attacked. Still, the pain from her magic outstripped it a hundredfold.
She’d never had to deal with anything remotely near this level of agony before. It stole everything. Attention. Energy. Magic.
Her vision hazed at the edges. Desperate, she felt for the Earth’s power beneath her bare feet and sucked it into her body. It didn’t help nearly as much as she’d hoped it would. The gash in her side was growing. Panic added a fine edge to her struggle.
She was working as hard as she could. And she was losing.
Hands gripped her shoulders from behind. She screeched, outraged to be beset by yet one more enemy.
“Katya!” Johan’s deep voice held a sharp note. “What the hell did you do to yourself? Hold still a moment.”
The room swam back into a crazy partial focus. Had she been so out of it, she hadn’t heard Johan approach? Apparently. Because here he was. She struggled to make her tongue cooperate. “You can’t help.”
“At least let me try. What you are doing is making it worse. In just the seconds from when I first saw you to now, the wound is bigger.”
A cascade of something wet gushed down her side. She bit her lip, but the pain she was certain would follow whatever he’d poured on her never materialized. She jumped on the respite and focused more earth power at the lesion. Her earlier mistake had been to use fire. Fire was part of the serpents’ workings, which was why she’d reinforced their attack on her.
Maybe the fucking serpents weren’t as dumb as she’d always believed. They must have anticipated her drawing on fire, her primary element, and known it would amplify their destruction.
Probably right now, they were laughing their pointy heads off. At her expense.
Johan hovered, worry stamped into his rugged features, but he didn’t get in her way. Or try to talk. Somehow, he instinctively recognized she didn’t have the energy to do anything beyond working on clearing her wound of taint.
Her breathing had devolved into panting gasps, but the blackened edges were smaller. She was certain of it. A walloping gust of magic shot through her.
The dragon.
For whatever reason, her bondmate had decided to help. Once it added its power to the mix, the margins of her injury lost all trace of taint. Puckery and white, they began to draw closer. Exhaustion dragged at her, but she remained on her feet, determined to keep going until the flesh had knitted together. At least the pain had receded from stabbing knives to a manageable dull ache.
The walls of the great room faded in and out of focus. She swayed on her feet. Johan’s voice sounded like he was a lot farther than half a meter from her when he said. “I am no doctor, but I believe your work is done.”
Before she could protest she had to be certain, he’d put an arm around her and led her to a pile of cushions. She fell heavily onto them, whimpers catching in her throat.
He handed her a half-empty flask. She drank from it, feeling an immediate lift from the magic Kon used when he brewed the mildly alcoholic infusion.
“I take it you located the serpents,” Johan said.
She nodded. “I got into a power struggle with my dragon. Because I was focused on keeping her from taking on however many serpents hid beneath the ice—and losing—I wasn’t as maneuverable as I would have liked.”
Smoke and ash puffed from Katya’s tired mouth. The dragon apparently didn’t care for her assertion they would have lost.
“But you were in the air, right? How far does that poison of theirs spread?” He shook dark hair out of his eyes. “I thought you were immortal. How could you have been so gravely wounded?”
Katya scraped the heels of her hands down her cheeks. She was weary to her bones, but she’d been tired before. This wasn’t any different. “They sent lightning bolts into the sky. One hit us. I had no idea how bad it was until I was back in my human form. If I’d known, I’d have stayed a dragon.”
“Do they heal faster?”
“Yes.” Katya upended the flask and drained it. “Was this what you poured on me?” At his nod, she went on. “Brilliant move, but how did you know to do it?”
“Beginner’s luck?” He shrugged, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with pleasure at her compliment. “I would love to claim I knew precisely what I was about, but I did not. In my world, alcohol cleanses injuries like yours. Why did the drink help?”
“Because this particular batch contains Konstantin’s magic. Lucky for me. He and I trade off brewing our drink, and his magic augments mine.”
Johan drew his brows together. “You did not look like you were doing very well when I ran in here. Could you have died?”
“No, but I might have wandered long in dark places before finding my way back.” Katya sat up straight, reminded just how precious time was. “The serpents would love it if I dropped out of sight for even a few days. Months or annums would be even better. Every single day allows them to grow stronger.”
“I am starting to see the need for more dragon shifters—or at least more magical creatures.”
“Does that mean you still plan an attempt to transform yourself?” Katya was too tired for subtleties. If they were going to petition Y Ddraigh Goch, they needed to get on wit
h it. On the other hand, if she was returning Johan to wherever he wished to wait out Armageddon, she wanted to get that over with too.
She would miss him. A lot. But humans had no place in magical warfare. She rolled her eyes. She’d barely come through in one piece, and her magic was robust.
“What was all that about?”
“All what?” She quirked a brow, shocked how much energy such a small thing absorbed.
“Not sure. You appeared beleaguered. Understandable after what you just went through.”
“How’d you know to look for me?”
His mouth twisted downward in one corner. “I heard you screaming.”
Her eyes widened.
“You did not know?”
She shook her head. “I was immersed in a critical battle to save myself.” Katya rolled to her feet, still feeling shaky but much better than before. “We should go.”
Johan raked her from head to toe with a frank gaze that, for once, didn’t hold dual intents. “We will leave, but you will feel better if you wash the blood off.”
Katya snorted. “And you’ll probably like it if I don’t stink of serpent poison.” She crinkled her nose at the acrid, rotten reek. “I can smell myself. You’ll wait here?”
“Close enough. I will be in the kitchen.”
She motioned for Johan to stand. When he did, she said, “Food is in the far corner of the room. You can’t see the cabinets but if you get close enough, you’ll stumble into them. Once you touch one, they’ll become visible.”
“I remember. I am looking forward to the magical part of becoming a shifter.”
Katya narrowed her eyes. “And the dragon part?” Smoke puffed through her mouth. Her bondmate was interested in his answer as well.
“It is something I will have to experience—” he began.
Katya felt burning as fire rose from her chest. She averted her head before it blasted out her mouth. “Be nice,” she told her dragon. “He helped me.”
Fire ceded to steam. Billows of it puffed around them. The heat eased the residual ache in her side. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she told Johan.
“I shall find something for us to eat. And then we will leave.”
He sounded resolute, determined. Before she picked his intent apart, she summoned magic to take her to the lake. A quick rinse, and she’d join him inside.
“I don’t know,” her dragon muttered.
“You can’t know everything,” she told her bondmate. “Some things require faith. If we believe he can manage the transformation, it’ll help him a whole lot more than if we’re nattering nellies casting doubt in a wide net.”
For once, the dragon didn’t reply.
Katya waded into the lake. When it hit her at waist level, she ducked all the way beneath the water. Surfacing, she sputtered, blowing out bubbles and tossing her wet hair across her shoulders. The dunking had a salutary effect, but it was time to go inside.
“Please,” she murmured, not addressing anyone in particular, “Johan is a good man. Help him find a way through what lies before us.”
“I will do everything I can,” her dragon said, surprising her.
Cantankerous and uppity, the dragon could be compassionate too. Love for her beast filled her, wiping out her annoyance its highhandedness had nearly landed her in deep trouble.
That was the thing with loving someone. You loved all of them. Not just the easy-to-swallow parts. A smile curved her lips, and she teleported back inside.
Chapter 3
Despite stumbling about locating the hidden cupboards, I managed to have a few things ready by the time Katya materialized in the kitchen. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wanting to be able to think a location and pull a “Beam-Me-Up-Scotty” trick to make it happen.
She and I made small talk as we ate, and I was grateful she wasn’t grilling me about my residual concerns. How could I not harbor at least a few? I was leaving everything I’ve ever known and embracing a very different life.
“Where are we headed?” I asked and pushed back from the table. She’d rinsed off the worst of the bloody residue streaking down her side, and we’d eaten enough for now.
Katya laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. “I’ve been thinking how best to proceed.”
For some reason, her words surprised me. I’d assumed this was like any other project with a set number of steps, but perhaps magical undertakings weren’t like that.
“What did you come up with?”
“Konstantin and Erin aren’t here. I’m fairly certain he moved her to the liminal space between worlds.”
I held up a hand, not wanting to interrupt but needing to understand. “Why there?”
“It’s easier for the dragon god to intervene.” After a pause, she went on. “Sorry, I’m searching for a way to explain something that’s happened so rarely I lack a method to describe it.”
I recalled earlier conversations among the four of us where either Katya or her brother had said something to the effect that humans turning into dragon shifters were the stuff of myth and legend.
“So will we go to this liminal area too?” I pressed. Now that I’d made up my mind, I wanted to get moving. To see if I was going to pass muster or be kicked to the curb.
Katya angled her head to one side and regarded me, her golden eyes reflecting serious consideration. “Kon picked a traditional route. First the space between worlds, and then a borderworld of the dragon god’s choosing.”
I should have kept my mouth shut, but asking questions was as natural as breathing for me. “How do you know they made it as far as a borderworld?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “They’d be back by now if they hadn’t travelled beyond the liminal space.”
“One if by land, two if by sea,” I muttered.
“What?” She shot an odd look my way, and I didn’t blame her.
“Nothing. Your deductive logic makes perfect sense.”
“Another term I’m not familiar with.” She shrugged. “Anyway, you wanted to know my thoughts. Here they are. We can mirror Konstantin’s journey, but it might take longer. When we are in the place between worlds, we aren’t in anyone’s way. Y Ddraigh Goch can wait as long as he wishes to respond to our petition.”
“What option do you recommend?” My question was more formal than I wished, yet it was familiar ground. I’d asked variants of that same query hundreds of times through my engineering career.
She blew out a tight breath. “If we begin on a borderworld, we’ll be in someone’s gunsights immediately. The presence of strangers on borderworlds doesn’t pass without notice.”
I frowned. “What have you left out?”
She thinned her lips. “Insightful of you. If we pick the wrong borderworld—or a string of them—we’ll waste even more time than if we’d begun in the liminal boundary.”
“What would happen on these incorrect worlds?”
“We’d be run off, forced to leave.”
Confusion swamped me. “Weren’t you and Konstantin planning to visit a chain of borderworlds to solicit aid?” She nodded, so I went on. “How is this different?”
“We’re dragon shifters.”
“Which means they would tolerate you, but not someone like me.”
“Yes. It’s been a long while since I’ve visited any other worlds. Things may have changed, but on the ones where humans coexist with magic, it’s much as it is here where humans don’t know creatures like us exist. Your kinsmen wouldn’t bother us, but nor would they do anything beyond slow us down.”
She unlaced her fingers and stretched them in front of her. “I talked myself out of taking a shortcut. We’ll follow Kon’s lead and begin in the place between worlds.”
Katya stood and gestured for me to come close. Before I did, I patted the open front of my insulated suit. “Will I need anything this heavy?”
“I don’t know. Is it uncomfortable?”
“I’m too warm with it on.”
Without waiting for her to answer, I toed off my boots and skinned out of my polar one-piece suit, draping it over a chair. I still had plenty of clothing. Dual layers of long johns and a down jacket and pants. I slid the green, triple-layer neoprene boots back onto my feet over double socks and positioned myself next to Katya.
Her scent changed depending on her mood. Right now it was an alluring mix of sunbaked clay, vanilla, and cloves. Steam puffed from her mouth, and the distinctive feel of dragon shifter magic made the small hairs on the back of my neck prickle. It wasn’t unpleasant. Far from it. Anticipation swept through me. I may have dillydallied a bit, but I was ready.
The plan I’d hatched while staring at the lake was a simple one. When it came to where I lobbied the dragon god—or the dragon—I’d opt for absolute honesty and tell them I always followed through on my commitments. This wouldn’t be an exception. I offered a pure heart and a willing spirit.
In my imagined conversations, I stopped shy of asking what more could they possibly want? In truth, probably a whole hell of a lot. Like a man who’d always nurtured a secret desire to fly or breathe fire. I couldn’t lie, though. If I did, it would go worse for me. They’d know, and I’d be finished.
The feel of Katya’s magic intensified, turning the air warm and golden. She wrapped her arms around me. “Hang on,” she instructed. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Although we were in one another’s arms, it wasn’t anything like my fantasies of holding her. I’d spun plenty of them where I settled my mouth over hers. Imagining how her lips would feel beneath mine, how her breath would quicken once our kiss took off and developed a life of its own… I cut that train of thought off fast. Having her close enough I felt the jut of her breasts against my chest was tantalizing, but none of this was about sex.
It was about transforming me.
Katya was going well out of her way. Because of me. Was she doing all this because she was fond of me? Or was she desperate to grow an army to defeat the serpents, no matter where the soldiers came from?