Dragonfly Refrain

by Aimee Moore

  “The Compendium of Ancient Fragments,” Dal said as his gaze roved over the titles.

  So we began to search, pulling the books aside with care, one by one, hoping not to disturb the one that was purported to contain the vial Ysiel so wanted.

  “I shall assist,” Growl said, putting his glasses on a puffy face and stooping to help. Dal gave him a nod. A solitary gesture, but it was done now as Growl’s superior in rank. Kraw hierarchy was cut and dry, and I loved that about them.

  “Have you found information on my shard?” I asked Growl, turning a book spine toward me and discarding it.

  “No human texts yet. I had hoped it would be here as well.”

  “What… what are they looking for?” Zraine said.

  K’cine, brow furrowed, hand fisted over her mouth, spoke without taking her eyes away from the odd trio that we were. “Seraphine said the book containing information about the key to the Helegnaur was in here somewhere. Not sure how she knows, mind you, but it’s in there.”

  “Yes, perhaps you can tell us how you know so much, dear wife,” came Karne’s voice.

  Chapter 27

  Vessel For Light

  Dal stiffened at the sound of Karne’s voice.

  I raised my head and met Karne’s furious gaze head on, then stood. Yasmil was standing behind him, eyes sparking hatred.

  “You know I’m not really in bond with you, Karne. Just like you knew my mate is not really dead.”

  Dal rose, unsheathing his sword. “You have much to answer for, Nialae.”

  “Oh mercy, not again,” Zraine said.

  K’cine backed up to the bookcases as Growl stood to face the confrontation.

  Dal continued to speak, striding toward Karne. “You have enslaved the woman I love, manipulating her into a bond she had no desire for. Tell me why you should live.”

  I raised my hands to summon my flame again, hoping in vain that something was different. Pain shot through me as my shard glowed purple. I hissed, grabbing at my left shoulder.

  Karne laughed. “Tell me, Dal, what you can give someone besides blood and bruises? I can give her worlds. Civilized worlds.”

  “This is officially the strangest day of my life,” K’cine said, tucked into the book cases.

  Dal continued to make long, confident strides toward my fake husband. “Nialae. So focused on outward beauty that they fail to see the blood beneath. It is a good thing for you, Karne, that I am an expert at extracting blood.” And with that, Dal swung his sword.

  If I blinked, I would have missed it. Karne, more agile than I gave him credit for, grasped something in midair. Just when I thought Dal’s swing was going to slice through Karne, his sword sparked against a blade that seemed to draw itself out of dancing light.

  And then Karne was holding the weapon, fighting with it. Karne was no match for Dal with the blade, but Karne’s other tricks made up for it. He laughed and swept his hand out at Dal, and tendrils of light shot out and hit Dal in the face.

  “Dal!” I gasped, rushing forward.

  Growl roared and charged at Karne, but Yasmil stepped in, her two circular weapons drawing themselves in her hands as Karne’s blade did only moments ago. And then she was wielding razor rings, two at once, fighting Growl with feral snarl. Growl was no warrior, he wasn’t battle hardened and he wasn’t swift, but he was still Kraw, and so he fought through his injuries to hold Yasmil off.

  Dal shook his head to clear the blast, then came at Karne with renewed effort, taking graceful, powerful swings at the laughing Nialae who could only parry and use dirty tricks. If he only used the dirtiest trick of all, his allure, my goal would be crushed under the weight of desire. But he’d have to sweep his allure through Yasmil and two battle-lusted Kraw to render me inert, and even Karne wasn’t arrogant enough to think that an easy path to victory. Especially if Dal found an outlet for his needs in carnal killing.

  “The book Sera!” Dal roared across the great clashing of blades.

  Casting one last glance at my mate, I turned to the pile.

  “No,” Zraine said, casting his hands toward the books. All of them lifted off of each other, as if the world turned upside down, and when they got into the air they flapped about as parchment-filled bats.

  “Zraine,” I snarled.

  “I am sorry, Seraphine, but if sides must be chosen, then I cannot be on yours.”

  I huffed an angry sigh, looking up at the books flapping about, rising over the tops of the bookshelves. I glanced around for the vial that Ysiel spoke of, but the floors this far back were clean, no shining glass in sight.

  Dal and Karne grunted over their clashing swords, Growl and Yasmil were locked in a battle of their own, and K’cine was gone completely. Zraine watched me with a glare, tense, ready to defend himself if need be. Ludacris; I possessed nothing but a lame foot and an injured shoulder.

  And a knife.

  I reached into my dress and pulled out the knife as Zraine eyed me warily. “You cannot hope to reach me with that on your lame foot,” he said.

  I took aim with my left palm and chucked the knife at Zraine. His eyes went wide as he ducked it, but it stuck in his arm as he howled with pain. I scrambled to the bookshelf, beginning to climb toward the flapping books that held victory.

  “No!” Zraine said, grabbing my bad ankle with his good arm.

  I gasped as he pulled. “Let me go,” I snarled, holding on to the shelf above for dear life as I attempted to kick at Zraine with my good leg. He gave a hearty yank, and I screamed as pain shot through my ankle. Dal roared from far away at the same time I let go of the bookshelves. My shard brushed the shelves on the way down, and blackness clouded my vision as I hit the floor.

  “Oy there, not my friend you greasy son of a bitch!” Lianne’s deep voice trumpeted through the library.

  “Lianne?” I whispered, pushing myself up and staring in disbelief.

  And there she was, resplendent in shining armor, all firm strength and flashing metal glory as she raised her sword and leapt at Zraine. Clutching his bleeding arm, he shot a hand out and the bookcase turned, swatting Lianne out of the air like a fly.

  Lianne twisted with the force of the shelf and landed in a crouch, her armor clacking on stone. She roared at Zraine, coming at him again. He threw books at her with his strange power and she smacked them away with mighty swings of the Kraw sword she’d bartered from me all those months ago. Zraine could only throw so much at Lianne before she reached him, putting the sword to his chest.

  He heaved panicked breaths. “Please, you must understand, I am a reader, nothing more. Would you not defend the master of your home as well?”

  I stood, gasping as my leg gave out under me, cursing the fates for this injury.

  “Well then,” Lianne said to Zraine, “Looks like you’d better tuck that shriveled cock between your legs and run before you lose than scrawny readin’ head of yours.”

  Zraine cast Lianne a look of the utmost loathing, then inched away, disappearing between the shelves. Lianne watched him slink off, sword raised in threat, then lowered it and came over to me.

  “Up ya go then,” she said, helping me up.

  “Lianne,” I breathed, “how did you get here?”

  Lianne, breathing hard, cast a glance at the four people engaged in combat before answering me quickly. “That dark fellow from Boris, nuttier than squirrel turds, was out in the healer’s courtyard feeding birds. Hundreds of the feathered fluffballs, all crowded around the bloke like he was their world. And then he smiled at my hobbling pathetic arse, and said in that crazy deep voice of his, ‘the wind has changed at last. Make them whole, pain and fire.’ Then I was here, healed and armored.”

  “Jacinthe,” I breathed.

  “Yeah, that fellow. ‘Scuse me.” Then Lianne roared past me toward the battle, and I stood, frowning after her, unsure of what to make of Jacinthe’s parting words.

  Make them whole, pain and fire.

  Fire causes pain; they’re already w
hole. Frustration boiled in my skull as the fighting carried on. Lianne rushed in at Karne to help Dal, and Karne let off a snarl of anger, flinging his hand out carelessly, knocking Lianne and Dal back. Lianne, fire and brimstone, rose, armor shining, and yelled, “Just you try that again you Nialae bastard!”

  Dal charged in, and Karne, an arrogant snarl of glee on his face, made a complicated gesture with his hand. Another sword drew itself in the air next to the one in his hand, and this one moved of its own accord, defending and slashing at Lianne and Dal.

  I tore my gaze away, back to the bookshelves with their tomes flapping in the air above them. At the height of roughly three of Dal, the shelves were mountainous.

  I pulled myself up the empty shelving, arms shaking and body straining. The shard in my shoulder sang and my mangled leg throbbed. By the sixth shelf high, I was too weak to pull myself up anymore. I slammed my fist on the wood, angry.

  No. I would not be weak. Sucking in fast breaths, I cried out with exhaustion and pain as I forced myself another shelf higher still. Then another as my muscles trembled and burned and I fought the sweet relief of just letting go. The top of the shelf loomed closer with the flapping books. I was so close. I had to make it. I would. I was the gods damned Warlord, and I would make it.

  Finally, I slung my trembling right arm on to the top of the shelf. I pulled myself up, letting off a roar of pain and frustration when my shard scraped across the top shelf. I made it. I caught my breath as my arms and legs wobbled like water, and then looked down.

  The fall was death. I’d address that later. I sat up and plucked a book out of the air, and it went limp in my hands. It wasn’t what I needed, so I tossed it to the floor far below with a loud thump.

  Then the shelf I sat upon rocked, and I gasped, throwing my lurching body flat to the top of it. I looked down to see Zraine. He was back, and he was rocking the shelf with a look of malice on his pointed face.

  “Zraine stop!” I yelled.

  “You have forced my hand, Seraphine,” he yelled up at me.

  “Damn your hand, don’t you know what you’re doing?” I yelled back.

  Zraine rocked the shelf again, and I gave a squeak as my stomach fluttered up into my throat, digging my nails into the wood. I grabbed a book fluttering by, checked the title, and chucked it down at Zraine.

  He howled, and I peered down to see Zraine rubbing his temple. I sat up, grabbing another book, checking it, and then throwing it down to him. I continued to do this, missing most as he diverted them with his strange power, but landing one or two.

  “You will run out of books soon and I will bring you to ground,” Zraine said with a sly smile.

  I grabbed another to throw at his perfect teeth and stopped cold. The Compendium of Ancient Fragments. I let go of the bookcase and flung the book open. There, encased inside the cover, was a vial the length of my thumb that was no bigger around than a coin. It was secured by a leather tie.

  “Thank the stars,” I breathed.

  The bookcase rocked again, this time precariously close to falling, and I gasped, flattening myself against the book on top of the shelf. I grabbed another floating by and flung it at Zraine.

  Catching my breath, I turned to glance at Dal. He was now engaging Yasmil, as Growl was losing the fight on no easy terms. Lianne, oh beautiful Lianne, put all of her Kraw training to use and held her own against Karne, who seemed to delight in blocking her fury with a smooth shield of shadow. Dal’s arm muscles bulged and shifted under smooth tattoos as he fought, and then Yasmil, with a cry of fury, swung both of her rounded blades together at Dal’s neck. Dal leaned back, dipping his head toward the ground, thrusting his sword upward into the circular blades.

  With a twist of his wrist, he disarmed Yasmil and stood tall, his blade at her neck, her deadly rings dangling from his blade.

  He growled something at her, and she spat something back. Dal flung his sword arm toward Growl, and the razor rings flew off. Growl managed to skewer them on his own sword, not as graceful as Dal, but he did it, and then Yasmil was at his mercy.

  “Dal!” I called.

  He whipped his gaze to mine across the library, then sprinted toward me with that inhuman speed. Skidding to a stop just below me, Dal elbowed Zraine in the nose just as the scrawny man turned to run. Blood exploded between Zraine’s fingers as he hunched over, backing away.

  “Jump!” Dal called up to me. I flung my other leg over the edge, tucked the book under my arm, and pushed myself off the shelf without question. The wind roared in my ears as my stomach lurched.

  Dal caught me with ease, and I grunted in pain from the jolt, losing my grip on the book. It thumped to the ground near us and I scrambled to right myself and grab it.

  “We do not have much time,” Dal said.

  “And now you do not have the book,” Zraine said, one hand over his face, the book in his other. He sprinted away from us.

  “Dal, the book! That was it!” I struggled to get free.

  “I will retrieve it. How did Lianne get here?” Dal asked, setting me down carefully, glancing toward the fight.

  “Jacinthe. He sent a message,” I breathed. “The wind has changed at last. Make them whole, pain and fire.”

  Understanding lit Dal’s face. And then regret crossed his features as he took hold of me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I am sorry, Sera,” he murmured.

  “Dal…”

  He held my arms to my side with one arm, and then his hand drifted toward my shard.

  “Dal, what are you doing?” I asked, panic rising within me.

  Hazel eyes met mine. “I am making you whole.”

  And then he pushed the shard further into my shoulder. I screamed as agony tore at me. Worlds of shapes and sizes and textures I didn’t understand passed through my vision as the roaring around me sunk into my existence. Everything was crumbling, burning away from me in bright purple fire as my existence ebbed on the edge of oblivion. I was a meteor of purple flame, streaking in stillness as the world ripped away from me.

  And then the roaring was gone, the screams were gone, the scrape of purple flame across my consciousness was a hollow absence. I was limp in Dal’s arms as my fractured consciousness recoiled at the jagged edges of my reality.

  “Sera,” he said on the edge of my awareness, voice hoarse.

  I couldn’t make sense of how I was supposed to exist as I drowned in the shards of what I knew. Nothing was whole. Nothing was right. Everything, for an eternity of a second, was broken and burnt and whispering like broken glass. Blackness was taking me, and why fight it? The only way to make sense of this charred, jagged break in my reality was to let it take me, unmake me into its infinite scattering of pieces.

  “Sera, breathe. Please.” Dal was squeezing me harder now and I was supposed to do something about the intrusion. “Breathe,” he said, his voice rough, his arms hard and shaking. He shook me. “Breathe!” He roared.

  My eyes blazed open, and I sucked in a great breath, rising, bringing in sweet air, and then everything shifted into place, locking into perfection and harmony. I stood, not on a broken leg, but on two strong ones as energy electrified my being. The clash of swords drew my attention immediately, honing my focus on my objective. I had to stop Zraine at all costs.

  I strode to where Karne was battling Lianne and I raised my palm as I called my gift. Where before there was only the answer of pain, now my gift stirred within my blood, sweet, euphoric, roaring to be free. Fire, purple and beautiful, shot out of me, streaking toward the doorway to wall it off. Zraine, who was edging around the fight, stilled with a jolt of shock.

  Karne turned and bellowed, “How?”

  But Growl raised his sword and roared with victory for me. Lianne, sweating, helmet missing, armor dented, raised her sword and roared alongside him.

  I descended the stairs, my flame billowing around me, and I stopped in front of Karne. For the first time since I met this man, since his existe
nce began to torment me, fear flicked into that honey-colored gaze.

  “Your games are over,” I said. And then I thrust my hand toward Zraine, who arched his back as his eyes went wide and fire shot out of his mouth. He fell to the floor, dropping my book with a heavy thump, as his body twitched and smoldered.

  Karne and Yasmil backed away from me, wordless.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t end you,” I said to Karne.

  Karne cut me a sardonic grin. “Because without your dying mate, I’m all you have left.”

  I turned, the world slowing as my vision narrowed on Dal. His beautiful form was laying on the floor. Unmoving.

  I forgot the book. Forgot the fight or Lianne or Growl or anything else in the world as I ran to Dal, the world achingly slow around me.

  Dal was laying where I left him, arms stretched before him, palms up, as if he’d used the last of his strength to hold me up, to shake some life into me. Blood was pooled around him.

  “No,” I said, pulling at his shoulder. “No no no no,” I murmured. My heart pounded in my ears as I realized every moment I sat here doing nothing, his life slipped away further.

  I rushed my hands through my hair, looking him over in desperation. Then I saw Dal’s bleeding hand. The hand he used to push in my shard. I looked down at my shoulder, and a pink starburst marred my skin where the shard was moments ago.

  “No, why aren’t you healing?” I whispered, picking up Dal’s heavy hand. I swiped away the hot and sticky blood flowing from it. A starburst shaped hole was in his hand just above his wrist, and more blood was gushing anew. Jacinthe’s words rushed into my mind.

  “Pain and fire. Make them whole,” I murmured. I had to trust, because I had nothing else.

  My breath came fast as I held my hand over Dal’s and lit my fire in my palm. My shoulder burned as I called the purple fire that had danced in and out of my existence since the leyline. It was mine now, and I pushed it into Dal as the flesh below my hand began to shift.

  Tears blurred my vision and poured down my cheeks. “You stubborn Kraw,” I whispered, “what have you done?”