Dragon's Revenge

by Debi Ennis Binder

  “But I still have no assurance that these dragons will return me to my village.”

  “They have no desire to keep you here, for anything other than information that will help them find their families. I will get you that assurance.”

  A long silence passed before the chieftain said, begrudgingly, “I understand. I will tell him what I know of Plyn, and of the weapons our Clan uses. But I never saw any weapon such as you described.”

  “While you were Plyn’s prisoner, did you ever see any of the stolen dragons?” asked Fyrid abruptly.

  Good man! Wolfe punched one hand with the other, then winced.

  “We were taken high in the mountains, to one with a massive cave in the side of it. The dragons were there, once. When I was taken back into the cave, they were gone,” Berent replied. “I don’t know where they were taken.” He paused, then suddenly added, with a surprising chuckle. “But I saw the one I flew on, when I was pulled out of the saddle. An adult female. A bold red dragon who made her captors rue the day they set eyes upon her. First time I ever heard a dragon speak—and by the gods, the words she knew! Sailors and fishmongers should have been taking note!”

  Wolfe heard Mayra snicker. “I can’t wait to meet Hesta,” she whispered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ceshon Aerie

  Day six of the First Moon of Wynter

  Mayra found Gaulte awaiting the witches in the large common room at the front of the Aerie. He had waited for the humans to finish their midday meal before asking them to join him.

  Although Larek had already told Gaulte about the agreement offered by Berent af’Torr, who was chieftain of the Hyrnt Clan, Gaulte was surprised when Mayra smiled up at him and told him what the Phailite chieftain had said about Hesta.

  Gaulte’s rumbling laugh seemed to lift his spirits somewhat, but after a moment, he resumed his despondent crouch, and Mayra glanced at Wolfe and gave a slight shrug.

  “Gaulte,” she began, “we now have a good chance of getting information that might tell us where your families are. Are you concerned that it won’t help?”

  How can I know? Gaulte huffed and settled his head on his feet. If they are somewhere here in the Ceshons why can’t I find her Center?

  Larek cleared his throat and sat up. He huffed and walked away from the fireplace where he’d been sitting with his son, Mieran, Hyaera’s nephew, Inshn, and the witchlings, Indiera and Harald.

  “We were talking,” the gold dragon began, using his head to gesture back toward the humans and dragons, “and Harald was telling the tale of learning his magic. Although I enjoyed the tale of the humiliating of someone called Tolle, who it seems we should hold much to blame for our enslavement, I took something else from the tale.

  “As Harald gained more magic, he realized that above all other objects around him, those made of oakenwood had been altered by contact with his magic. Though we have very little of such wood in our Aerie, it is the most common type found here in the mountains. Harald, come and tell Gaulte what you learned.”

  The tall, fair-haired Bren brother joined them, nodded once toward Wolfe and Mayra, and took up the tale. “I noticed more as each day in Nesht passed,” he explained, then stuck out his arms and turned them so that his black Rings glimmered in the firelight. “It’s as Larek says. As I learned how to open myself to my magic, as Richart taught me what to feel and look for and I developed more on my own, I noticed that when I handled the few oakenwood things I had access to it became—” He paused and thought. “It felt as though the wood was trying to suck in my power. I asked others, but no one else ever before had such impressions.”

  Mayra held back a sigh. Coming to a point quickly never had been a strength of Harald’s. As he continued, she interrupted.

  “Harald, how much worse did it get after you got your Rings?” Both Bren brothers had gotten their Rings as adults, virtually unheard of in the world of Ring-Witches. But both were also in a unique position to answer questions that children could not.

  Harald knew she wasn’t asking about the placing of the Rings; that wasn’t pleasant for anyone, or afterward when days passed before he could scarcely move his arms.

  “Touching the wood hurt,” he replied. “But after I got my Rings, it really hurt. A few months passed before I chanced to notice that my magic wouldn’t penetrate oakenwood. Richart and I snuck into the king’s throne room and used his oakenwood throne to experiment.” He grinned. “Forcial almost caught us once. He brought a young woman in there. She saw us when we fled, but never said a word.”

  “She likely thought you might tell the queen,” Wolfe growled. “What does all this mean to dragons, Larek?”

  Larek gave his ferocious grin. “You ask a pointed question, friend Wolfe. Corren and I have noticed,” the gold dragon explained, “that as we work with witchlings, we seem to absorb some of your magicks, too, just as you have done ours. I believe that the properties of oakenwood can be altered by magic, and would affect us in a manner similar to how it affects witches. If our captive families were behind that wood, which grows in abundance here in the north, I do not believe we could feel them.”

  Mayra gazed at Larek, not surprised that it was a dragon who had noticed such a significant thing. She and Wolfe should have warned the other witches to beware of things changing around them, the longer they were around the dragons. But she hadn’t known there would be so much oakenwood, and imparting information wasn’t the way of Ring-Witches, who more often held secrets close to them.

  Gaulte was listening to the dragons and witchlings in silence. Now, he stirred. “That is something worth considering, Larek. The impressions I sense with Mayra seem to fade in and out. I didn’t notice it.” He shook his massive head. He turned to gaze at Mayra. “But I should have realized that at times I could not find your Center. And I should have at least put that together and wondered what was wrong.”

  “May we remind you you’ve had other things on your mind?” Wolfe asked drily.

  The black dragon’s chuckle surprised Mayra. “Indeed. Wolfe and Mayra, please follow me to my chamber. I want to try it, and I have several pieces of such wood in there that might show us how it interferes.”

  “So,” Wolfe began as he and Mayra started after Gaulte. “Others have noticed that the magic of our Rings seems to be changing. Why hasn’t anyone mentioned it?”

  “Perhaps for the same reason I didn’t tell you, or you, me.” She threaded her fingers through his. “We aren’t accustomed to sharing. We do tend to keep our assets as close as we can, especially among other witches.”

  “Yes,” he grumbled in agreement. He swung her up into his arms, and she squealed. He heard the laughter of Gaulte, ahead, as he lifted her up and kissed her. “I will find a private place for us,” he whispered. “I swear that I will.”

  Mayra laid her head against Wolfe’s shoulder, remembering when she had ridden with her reever Clan toward the Fortress, to stop whatever was attacking the villages of Nesht. Harald Bren had come to her tent to talk to her, and during their conversation, she had threatened him because she thought he was trying to protect her. And now, like a feckless woman, she was being carried in strong male arms, and she loved it.

  Life had done quite a turnabout for Mayra ara’Ferren.

  * * *

  Gaulte halted and used the broad, rounded end of the corridor to turn and face them. There were no doors and only one wall torch to light the chilled space around them. Or so it appeared. The dragon raised a talon and touched a barely visible indentation above the base of the torch.

  The corridor filled with the sound of water and a massive, rounded slab of the wall slid silently to one side. Warmth rushed out to greet them. Gaulte entered and invited them to follow.

  His massive chambers were dimly lit. Wolfe moved quickly to the far side of the doorway to make room for the huge dragon and set Mayra on her feet. “Ow,” she muttered, then, “Ouch! What are all these rocks doing—”

  As soon as the drago
n reset the hidden door, the lights sprang to life. Mayra looked down, froze a moment, then looked up. The brilliance of the room momentarily blinded both her and Wolfe.

  The two humans blinked until their eyes became accustomed to the brightness that seemed to obscure the entire room. Each slowly turned, staring open-mouthed at the surrounding splendor. On every wall, in every corner, amid the shine of gold and silver, were gems and more gems, hundreds upon hundreds, cast casually about. They saw colors of every jewel ever known to either of them—the brilliant reds, greens, golds, and blues of the dragons, and the shimmering white of the icy mountain rivers. Faceted stones in an array of sizes blinked at them, some stones loose in bowls, others tossed across plates and tables. There were waterfalls of glittering gems, some strung together, and others made into the shapes of animals and flowers.

  The bedchamber of Gaulte and Hesta was undoubtedly the most valuable habitation either human had ever seen in their lives. And undeniably the most substantial target either Ring-Witch could imagine.

  Gaulte cleared his throat. “I should have warned you that female dragons love sparkly objects and none so much as colored jewels such as these. Whenever I find such a rock, I take it to the gnomes to cut, so it will shine for Hesta. They are her pretties as she calls them.” He looked embarrassed and Wolfe suppressed a laugh. “But she also calls our nestling that.” He shook his head and Wolfe understood, for who could account for the oddities of females?

  “Gaulte,” Wolfe began, “have you any idea—that is, don’t you realize that—.”

  “This,” Mayra interrupted her flabbergasted mate, “might be what the Phailites were looking for when they raided the Aerie!” She flung out her arms and laughed aloud. “Oh, Gaulte, it is so beautiful in here! So shining, and colorful And to a human, value beyond reckoning!

  “These are jewels now, but as rocks we find them everywhere,” Gaulte said. He shook his head again. “I understand that a female human would also love the rocks, but I am most perplexed that you believe this is what brought the Phailites to my Aerie.” The dragon lowered himself closer to the two witchlings and continued. “For a small fee of their keeping one or two of the rocks, the gnomes will make the same for any of the Phailites. And in any case, how would the invaders have known of our rocks?”

  Wolfe shook his dark head. “They might have heard about the gems from anywhere, Gaulte; perhaps even from the gnomes themselves. But those gnomes fashioned these into stones fit for human jewelry and there is a vast fortune here. Greedy men do not wish to pay for anything they can steal.” He gestured toward Mayra. “Even this rare female, who expresses no wish for any jewel I might give her, admires these.”

  Mayra smiled up at her mate. “I find the colors and shine so beautiful, and the quantity is overwhelming! What in the world would I do with one?”

  “Wear it,” Wolfe replied softly, “as a token of my feelings for you.”

  Mayra blushed, and Gaulte moved about restlessly. “I must know if oakenwood has affected me,” he reminded them. “Wolfe, see that seat? Aye, yes, that nestling-sized one, it’s made of oakenwood. Please put those smallest cushions on the seat and—yes, all around. Mayra, come and sit here.”

  The nestling-sized seat was not small, and the dragon’s smallest cushions were huge. She wondered if the gnomes who cut the stones also made the pillows, floor coverings, and wall-hangings she had seen throughout the Aeries, and if they lived somewhere near the Aerie.

  “Oh, very nice,” she breathed as she sank into them and leaned back. She wriggled about for a moment. “Yes, Gaulte, I can still tell it’s there. Far away, I can feel the wood.”

  * * *

  Wolfe watched the other two silently—one so huge he seemed to encompass the chamber, the other small and completely comfortable lying down at the dragon’s feet.

  His ice-blue eyes narrowed. For a moment, he thought he had seen an odd, dark mist touch Mayra, but it vanished almost at once. Wolfe shook his head; he was again feeling the same strange sensation of change around his mate. In ways he didn’t yet understand, her magic was changing. Once they had entered the land of the dragons, the aura of Mayra’s magic became disarrayed. But now—he thought back to what the dragon Elder had taken him aside and told him. Could such a thing happen—could magic change by aligning with the residual magic in the Aerie? And if so, how could Mayra not realize something was happening to her?

  Wolfe backed up to let Gaulte begin whatever he planned. He watched Mayra as she settled down in her cushions. The male Ring-Witch had heard Mayra’s happy little sigh and now could not stop envisioning her, laying naked amid the huge, gleaming pillows that decorated the chamber. The picture had an immediate effect on him. He was trying to hide the evidence of his arousal, but he could tell something was apparent to his mate by the wicked look she gave him.

  “So, Gaulte,” he began, “you say all the dragons’ chambers have jewels such as these?”

  Gaulte mumbled, yes. The dragon was trying to hunker down along the floor close to Mayra’s seat, and he looked ridiculous. Wolfe shook his head; what was the great beast trying to do?

  “Gaulte, wait.” Wolfe pushed off the wall he’d been lounging against and walked across the room to examine a large wooden room-divider. When he touched it, he didn’t feel it push back as oakenwood usually did.

  Wolfe felt Gaulte beside him and as he moved aside for the dragon, he glanced back at Mayra and a smile touched his lips. What warrior wouldn’t want to see his woman, sitting happily amid her soft cushions, and admiring a handful of stones she’d picked up from a nearby bowl? Except with Mayra, this was no more than a moment of leisure she hadn’t chosen to take herself. She would never idle about, being kept.

  That is a thought you must not share with Mayra. Gaulte’s sudden, faraway mind-speak caught Wolfe off guard, but he understood at once that Mayra did not hear the black dragon. Gaulte looked both wise and wary; he, too, knew Mayra’s opinion on being protected by a male. I shall leave the two of you alone for a while. A long while. Did dragons leer? Mayra misses your touch, friend Wolfe, as only a true mate can. I must ensure the witchlings have rooms with privacy very soon.

  Gaulte had no problem expressing dry sarcasm with his mind-speak; Wolfe gave him a quick grin. He recognized the black dragon’s concern that nestlings might see over-affectionate witchlings engaged in certain acts. And that the dominant dragon did not wish to try to explain human procreation to them.

  The others will appreciate that, Wolfe returned. We all would.

  Yes, agreed the dragon, the last thing we wish is to have younglings asking questions we adults would rather not answer.

  Wolfe laughed aloud and Mayra looked over at them questioningly.

  “Mayra, I must find Larek,” Gaulte said aloud. “You two shall stay here, for I am determined to find out if this cursed wood can block your Center from me.”

  Mayra nodded and slid down from the seat. She dropped the stones back into the bowl and followed Wolfe to the wall where Gaulte ensured both knew how to get out of the chamber before leaving them alone.

  * * *

  “Are we alone?” Mayra whispered, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Unwatched, unmissed by the others?”

  “Absolutely alone.” Wolfe caught her eyes as he started toward her, moving noiselessly, his ice-blue eyes full of promise.

  A thrill danced down Mayra’s body as Wolfe drew closer; she felt as though his namesake stalked her. Just as he reached for her, the lights dimmed.

  “Did you do that?” she demanded as he drew her into his arms. She slid her hands up his chest and pulled his tunic open. “Because it was an excellent idea.”

  Wolfe chuckled. He tipped her head back and kissed her gently; Mayra moaned softly as he deepened the kiss and gasped when he scooped her up and carried her back the cushions.

  “Wolfe!” she screamed as he dropped her into a mound of pillows. He pulled off his tunic and dropped beside her.

  “Your eyes catch
the sparkle of these jewels.” His rough whisper touched her skin like a caress. “But those lovely eyes are more striking, by far.”

  She stared into Wolfe’s eyes. “I see the reflected colors and it’s like magic made visible! Are there magical qualities to jewels?”

  Wolfe, busy peeling down her leggings, didn’t answer. He finished that task and then turned to her tunic. By the time she was nude, Mayra had forgotten her question.

  The huge cushions were as large as a bed beneath them. As Wolfe rolled over onto her, she winced and worked out a large red stone from the middle of her back. Wolfe plucked it from her fingers and tossed it up onto a table.

  Wolfe threaded his fingers through hers and captured her hands above her head. She watched him study her body as though seeing it again for the first time. As she started to tease a confession from him that he had forgotten what she looked like, his lips silenced hers.

  “No talking,” he muttered. His lips trailed down to her stomach, and she drew in a sharp breath that dissolved into a soft giggle. “No laughing.” He returned to nibble at her lips yet again. He moved both her hands to his one, slowly dragging his fingers over her Rings.

  Mayra’s eyes widened as a familiar fire burst through her, the same churning magic she had felt the first time he had deliberately touched her Rings, with thoughts of pure lust behind that caress. She sucked in a deep breath.

  He immobilized her hands, and she wasn’t certain she liked the feeling.

  “You are my captive now,” he said, feigning firmness. “You find my touch vile. Therefore, you must lie there and pretend you feel nothing.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and she pulled her hand away from his. Relief flooded her as he released her at once and she sat up. Her loose hair slid down her body as she leaned forward to kiss him. “I fear that is impossible, Wolfe, for your hands are made of magic, and they take command of me. I can feel nothing but delight from your caresses.”

  She smiled at the pleased surprise in his striking face. Had no one ever told Wolfe Sieryd such things? Her eyes slowly closed as those strong fingers gently cupped her face. His hand then slid down to her waist, he drew her to him and lowered her back to the pillow.