Fianna the Gold

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Fianna the Gold Page 9

by Louisa Kelley


  Excited, amber gold eyes followed Fianna’s every move. Gray puffs poured out of their matching snouts. Fianna opened her jaw wide and let out an elated roar, which Abbie attempted to join with a croaky baby grunt. Fianna sidestepped closer, digging into the dirt until her heavier, rounder side bucked up against Abbie, the touch grounding them both in this incredible new reality. The rows of Abbie’s deep blue scales were as sweet and smooth as a newborn dracling’s. Abbie sank abruptly to her haunches, as if her newly hatched legs couldn’t quite hold her up. Fianna crouched down and leaned forward until their snouts touched in a delicate gesture, conveying confidence and affection.

  Fianna’s heart swelled as the cold, wet tip of Abbie’s sweet nose nuzzled hers. The tentative beginnings of wordless Draca communication simmered between them. Fianna caught Abbie’s, “So wonderful. Can’t believe this!”

  She answered telepathically. “Are you ready to fly?”

  Abbie’s eyes gleamed. Fianna read the wild longing in those excited depths. They needed to get airborne like they needed to breathe.

  “Lesson number one!” Fianna straightened to her full height and roared out her pleasure with a show-off stream of fire. Her wings snapped out, followed by the slower crack of Abbie’s. Fianna turned toward the cliff and started running. She stopped about fifteen feet from the edge and tossed a backward look. This was the true test. Did Abbie have enough courage to do this when she wasn’t driven by fear? There was no other way for a newly fledged Draca. Fly or drop.

  However, as far as Fianna was concerned, the drop part was not going to happen. She gave a short roar and tossed her head, indicating Abbie should come closer. Fianna lifted and flapped her wings in example—up and down, three, four, six times—showing how to bend the wings and build a draft. Then she folded her wings partially back, sped to the edge and jumped.

  She soared for a few minutes, enjoying the familiar ecstatic release, then circled back to hover and watch, and guard with her life, the first conscious voyage of her dracling.

  Abbie hopped a few steps forward, lifted off the ground a few inches, missed the edge, slipped, and started falling. Fianna plunged down, ready to catch her below, when, with a sudden, ungraceful lurch, Abbie caught the draft. Billows of anxious gray smoke filled the sky as her cautious apprentice caught the airstream and flew.

  Abbie flapped her wings in an awkward rhythm, then found an updraft and smoothed out. Fianna roared her approval. After a while, their wings beat together, and the sounds of their bodies tracing through the air in synchronized fashion was like music.

  Abbie’s snout hung open in a goofy, Draca grin. She darted looks at Fianna every few seconds for reassurance. Fianna kept the pace even and slow, and her sister-self settled into a white noise of utter contentment.

  They flew alone, nothing in their way for hundreds of miles, surrounded by forested hills and the snowy peaks of Mt. Hood. The sense of the gods’ blessings filled Fianna’s heart. Whatever was going to happen next, this was utter and complete bliss.

  Gaining confidence, Abbie picked up her speed. Delighted, Fianna initiated an ancient flying game. It had been months since she’d been allowed to pursue her heart’s calling of teaching and guiding the young ones. She challenged Abbie, yet stayed cautious. She wasn’t leading this little one into any sort of danger. Never again. She pulled her wings in and dove like a scaly, golden red rocket for a few measured seconds. Then she made an abrupt turn and arrowed straight back up, right into a puffy cumulus cloud. Abbie’s dainty growls of excitement soothed the ache of missing her draclings. Here was one who truly needed her.

  Abbie joined her in the milky cloud, her white, pointed teeth gleaming as Fianna lit out in a modified chase game. The baby dragon, mixed blood and all, was a natural. She couldn’t quite match Fianna’s speed, but she executed her own swift maneuvers, her flying joyous. They played, as teacher and student, and then like airborne lovers. Fianna swooped in so close, the heat pouring off Abbie’s heaving sides caressed her face and body like a hot, potent promise.

  Her sister-self wanted more. Fianna knew exactly the nature of the demands drumming in her head. Inconvenient to her human side, yet there was no escaping the primal drive of her dual nature. Her dragon wanted to have sex with Abbie.

  “Not yet!” Fianna had to get them down, back to human reality, because the erotic images circling in her head would soon make it impossible to keep flying.

  Her dragon’s cranky response threatened mutiny. Fianna begged her sister-self to wait, signaled Abbie they were heading back, and then raced to slow the speed of Abbie’s descent.

  She landed in time to catch the bulk of Abbie’s weight when she hit, and they tumbled together in an ungraceful series of whirls until Fianna shifted and rolled out from under Abbie.

  Abbie’s shift stuck halfway and she let out muffled shrieks.

  “Shift, Abbie!” Fianna encouraged the panicked dracling. She offered rapid prayers, and then a second later, Abbie’s cries stopped with a whooshing sound, and bluish smoke morphed into an astonished Abbie, flat on her back.

  “Naked in the dirt—again.” Abbie laughed, out of breath, her eyes shining. “At least I didn’t pass out this time.”

  Fianna joined her laughter as her legs gave out with sheer relief and she dropped flat onto the ground next to Abbie. They rolled into each other’s arms, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and something wild and electric leaped between them. Fianna’s sister-self growled in reaction. She lusted for the irresistible sister-self of Abbie, and her desire nearly caused Fianna to shift again.

  “Stop,” Fianna said. She looked at Abbie. “No, not you.” And then leaned in to kiss her. Desire flared as she tasted Abbie’s heated lips. She wanted her, this prickly, stubborn, adorable little dragon thief. She drew back, seeking permission while she still could, and Abbie yanked her down in response and kissed her hard.

  Abbie slid her mouth to Fianna’s neck and laid a wet, hot trail of kisses from her collarbone to her breast. “You, ” she murmured, and gave Fianna’s nipple a lick, “are the most incredible, fantastic…” Her words trailed off as she nuzzled Fianna’s breasts.

  The sun beat on Fianna’s face as she arched in pleasure under Abbie’s sweet trail of kisses. She had always been sensually aroused by females, choosing a not-uncommon route to mating. Draca never cared who they loved, only that they loved.

  Love?

  Fianna reached for Abbie and urged her to roll over. She pressed her pelvis between Abbie’s hips, seeking their conjoined, moist heat, and rocked them in an instinctual rhythm overwhelmed by a need to feel every inch of their skin touching.

  Fianna shook with a drive to mate she’d never felt before. Terrible timing. She castigated herself even as she kissed Abbie’s soft, eager lips. She never should have started this. And still she continued a blazing dance of lips and tongues, and Abbie’s moans in her ears drowned her senses to anything else.

  She forced herself to rest her cheek for a second on Abbie’s chest, feeling the wild pound of her heart beneath her ear with fierce gladness and told herself this was enough, for now. Abbie clutched her tight with both arms and kissed the top of her head over and over, making incoherent sounds.

  Fianna slid to the side and pulled Abbie in close. The cool breeze refreshed their heated skin, and Fianna barely registered they were on the ground.

  “Who am I and where am I?” Abbie murmured. “I am so blissed out.”

  “Indeed,” Fianna said against Abbie’s mouth. “This is new for me. I’ve never…this has never—I mean, well, you,” she concluded with a soft laugh and another kiss. “You are a rare one. More special than you can even understand right now.” She kissed her again, Abbie’s lips fast becoming an addiction. “You will soon, though.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Abbie said, and burrowed closer. “And you’re definitely going to tell me, but as much as I never want to move from this spot, my ass is starting to get cold. You know, what
with being naked and all, apparently my new default state.” She giggled, and Fianna leaned back to see a mischievous light of happiness in her eyes that made Fianna’s heart turn over.

  “Rain’s coming,” Fianna said when she noticed the suspicious gray clouds moving in. “Think you can stand?”

  Abbie smiled. “Maybe. Might be fun trying.”

  They got to their feet with slow, languid movements. An electric current of connection buzzed between them, as if their dual natures had already blended and become four. Fianna’s sister-self was somewhat appeased, although she reminded Fianna in no uncertain terms that she had not finished anything. For the first time, Fianna clearly heard Abbie’s sister-self, slightly on the cranky side as well, chime in with the same sentiment.

  “Do you hear that, Abbie?” Fianna asked. “Do you hear our other natures having a conversation about us?” Her predator nature only had so much patience for mushy stuff that went on, in her opinion, much too long.

  Abbie zipped up her sweatshirt. “Not a lot of clear words but I think get the drift. I can’t believe it, but I think she’s scolding me.” She shook her head. “Guess my ability to irritate and disappoint continues, even when I’m a dragon. Although, what the hell is she pissed about?” She frowned and looked confused.

  Fianna grabbed Abbie’s hand and tugged her into motion on the path. “Bonding with your sister-self takes time and patience. Understanding and better communication will come, sooner than you think.” How many times had she voiced that assurance to the fledglings, impatient for flight? How surreal to be here, in this reality, giving the same speech. “And, yes, at the moment your sister-self is a bit, well, out of sorts.”

  “I don’t know why,” Abbie said, sounding out of sorts herself. “She’s been in control of everything up to now, sheesh.”

  Fianna squeezed her hand. “Do you feel my mine? Same thing going on?”

  Abbie flashed a roguish look. “I feel about a million things right now.”

  They had almost reached the top of the path, when Abbie stopped short and taught Fianna another lesson in the “never underestimate Abbie” game.

  “Hold on a minute. I’ve got an idea.” Abbie dropped Fianna’s hand and with a guilty look, said, “I have this urge to do something right now. I gotta do it, Fianna. I just have to. I’m sorry.” Abbie proceeded to take a deep breath, threw her head back and scandalized Fianna by letting out a loud, very long howl— a high, piercing animal howl that ripped through the meadow, startling every wild creature within five miles.

  Fianna clapped her hands over her ears. “Abbie, stop!”

  But once wasn’t enough for the clueless dracling. Abbie did it again and when the sound trailed off, she burst out laughing. “Oh, my God! That felt so freaking great! You should try it, Fianna! Holy shit, what a little dragon breath can do, eh?” Then, her eyes widened in panic as streams of fire blew out of her excited, opened mouth and nearly singed Fianna’s face.

  It also started a tiny grass fire, which they both stamped out with much shrieking.

  “Abbie, you are a dragon not a wolf!” Fianna yelled. She gave a final stamp to the blackened grass. “Why would you do such a thing? You have no idea about consequences for behavior.” A forest fire was no joke, even for them. Dragons always had to keep in mind the potential for destruction their elemental force carried. Abbie had no idea yet of her powers.

  To Fianna’s extreme irritation, Abbie collapsed to the ground, shoulders heaving with laughter. “I know, I know, a dragon, not a wolf. Oh, my God.” Abbie went into a peal of belly laughs. She gazed up at Fianna with tears streaming down her face until, finally, Fianna dropped next to her and gave in to a weak grin.

  She patted Abbie’s shoulder. “There, there. You feel better now?”

  That set Abbie off again. “Yeah, actually, I do,” she said after a minute when the giggles subsided. “I’m sorry, maybe um, it’s all the human stuff in me, like, I think I really needed to blow off some steam, I mean in another way besides turning into a…into a…dra-dragon.” She choked on the last word and fell over, guffawing helplessly into the grass.

  Fianna patted her again and prayed for patience.

  “I’m just gonna have to be me, you know?” Abbie snickered. She squinted at Fianna. “I’ve never thought that was okay before.”

  “You don’t much like following rules, do you?”

  Abbie shook her head and climbed to her feet. “Not really, no.”

  If truth be told, Fianna didn’t either, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She heard a promising rumbling noise coming from the top of the hill.

  “Look, Abbie.” She pointed. A deep golden glow rose over the wreckage of the house. “Nareen activated the Fire Agate! About time that piece of rock started being helpful.”

  The glow deepened to ruby red and began spinning, turning into a whirling tornado encompassing only the area around the cabin. The force of the spin collected all the loose debris and brick, furniture and broken glass, and sucked it into the whirlpool of magic. A whole shingled roof appeared at the top and then in slow, magical precision, the house shimmered into existence from the roof down—wall by wall, floor by floor, windows, doors, a deck off each level.

  They watched in awe as an entire two-story house assembled, as if directed by an invisible conductor’s baton. Abbie started running. “Do I really have to go back to Portland?” she shouted and raced Fianna up the hill.

  Chapter Eight

  Dragon Investigation

  When Orla and Guin returned from Portland late that evening, Abbie’s head went buzzy with the collected impact of all the sister-self voices. The voices started popping into her mind on a regular basis, and when the group really got going, verbal and nonverbal conversations happened simultaneously, a serious brain-stimulating exercise. To make things more complicated, sometimes they spoke a complex, ancient dragon language she didn’t stand a chance of understanding, at least for now. Fianna told her she’d learn over time. Drackish contained nuances of meaning impossible to express in plain English.

  At first, most of the group excitement centered on the fantastic new house, no longer just a simple cabin. The incongruous structure boasted two stories with four bedrooms, along with a master suite containing the original giant bed and two walk-in closets. The gourmet kitchen pulled them in like a magnet, the space gleaming in stainless steel and marble, complete with a dishwasher, something they’d never seen before. Every inch had to be inspected and exclaimed over.

  What the heck did the Draca live in, anyway? Caves? That startling thought gave rise to so many alarming questions, Abbie disconnected from the semi-coherent mind babble, and wandered from the group.

  She followed the dim pink light glowing from the spacious living room. The Fire Agate, as they called the extraordinary gem, glowed in its place of honor in a new filigree-shaped, wrought iron box, perched on an oak stand. Abbie aimed an interested look at the glittery jewel visible between the thin metal bars. Apparently, the magic power in the rare gem had made the super-house appear. She wondered what could have blown the previous box to pieces on that fateful morning she’d stumbled into the cabin. It hadn’t been controlled by the Draca—at least, not these three. She wished the gang would stop the house tour and get down to the business of explaining everything.

  “It’s late, sisters,” Fianna said, finally. “Let’s hear the news about Portland, and then call it a night, okay?”

  Orla looked guilty. “You might want to sit down.”

  “Yeah, like you’re going to be so surprised.” Guin said, aiming a dagger look at Orla, as everyone got settled in the living room. Abbie sat on the sofa next to Fianna, excited for the story.

  “We started with Abbie’s campsite, of course. We smelled Abbie’s dragon in the charred remains of a grassy area, along with the stink of those men, but nothing else. After that, we headed to the car for the drive out to Forest Park,” Guin said.

  “Wait a minute,” Abbie interrupted. “W
hat car did you use?” She realized she hadn’t considered dragons driving.

  “We keep a car stored about four miles from here, and also we own a garage on the outskirts of north Portland. Cars are stored there for Draca use in town. Renting cars requires repeated use of credit cards, not a good practice for dragons trying to stay off the grid.”

  “So, there’s cars in magic dragon land?”

  That got some snickers. “No, we have the simulator to teach us how to drive,” Orla said. “It’s a giant lab set up to prepare ancient, cranky dragons for the modern world.” She winked at Guin, who rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, we know who spent the most time in there, too,” Fianna said. “Guin, why did you let Orla drive?”

  “You know how she is, Fianna,” Guin said. “She wouldn’t listen to me.” Guin explained the simulator had not prepared them for the volume of traffic and construction work going on in Portland, especially in the inner city. They had maps they found in the glove compartment, which neither of them knew how to use, and they kept getting lost. Cars connected to GPS weren’t allowed. Technology that could find or track you had to be avoided in every way possible.

  “All Orla did was complain, complain, complain,” Guin said. “I could hardly concentrate.”

  “How can humans live like that?” Orla asked in a plaintive tone. “So crowded together! People, bicycles, buses, cars—everything and everyone trying to use the same space.

  No separation in between dwellings. I could hardly breathe in the polluted air and the ground is nearly swallowed up in concrete and asphalt. And worse, to get anywhere, you stop and go and stop and go by following colored lights! Insane!” She shoved her hands through her cropped blonde hair. “It took ten minutes to drive one mile.” Orla glared as if personally affronted.

  “So, of course Orla took it upon herself to improve things,” Guin said. She waved a dismissive hand when Orla tried to interrupt. “I’m talking now,” she said. “Be quiet.”

 

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