by JD Monroe
She couldn’t even draw a breath to scream. With her stomach churning and head throbbing, she squeezed her eyes shut. This is a nightmare, it’s not real.
Her whole body tensed as the dragon swooped downward and released the chains. She gasped as freefall took her. Seconds later, she slammed into the ground and rolled awkwardly, banging her elbow against cold stone. Consciousness rushed back as the shock shot through her arm, destroying her conviction that she was dreaming. Grit ground against her cheek as she looked around. She tried to stand, but the chains weighed her down. Each wrist and ankle was secured with a heavy, dark metal manacle connected to a thick chain, all of which were connected to the thick metal ring the dragon had carried.
A man and woman in matching dark blue uniforms approached her. They both wore long-sleeved coats with tails that split from knee to hip, with a silver crest on the chest. The pale woman had black hair in an ornamental braid twisted around her head. She was easily six feet tall, with broad shoulders that made most of the human men Gabby knew look puny. Her partner was even bigger, with deeply tanned skin and thick blonde-streaked hair that swept away from a strong brow and proud nose. Like Tarek, they passed for human at first glance, but their size and bright eyes made them look strange.
The dragon that had carried her roared, sending a crawling sensation down Gabby’s spine. He was perched on the corner of the rooftop, sharp talons curled around the ledge. The sound was inflected and broken, like he was speaking, but she couldn’t understand the guttural syllables. The female guard responded, and a brief conversation followed. The dragon stepped down from the ledge and curled his green wings around himself. Dazzling greenish light surrounded him as the emerald scales melted away. It took no longer than a minute for the monstrous creature to transform back into a man.
Standing where the huge dragon had been was the same dark-haired man she’d encountered outside the Drakemont. “You! I told you I helped her, and—”
Throbbing pain bloomed on her left cheek as the female guard struck her in the face. Tears pricked her eyes at the sheer surprise and pain. She’d never been hit in the face, and it was shocking how much it hurt.
“Vezhare!” the woman snapped.
“But I—”
The woman raised her hand again, and Gabby recoiled.
The dark-haired man from the Drakemont raised a hand and said something in a mild tone to the woman. He didn’t seem to be bothered that he was naked as a newborn. When he spoke again, it was in thick accented English, and directed toward Gabby. “We will find the truth of this. It would be wise for you to comply and save yourself further pain.”
Further pain. The implication of what he said rang in her head like an echo. What the hell had she fallen into?
The female guard bent to grab the ring holding Gabby’s chains. While she situated the metal loop in her hand, her partner grabbed Gabby roughly under the arms and hauled her to her feet. Her foot rolled painfully under her as he did, but her yelp of surprise elicited no response from him.
Tears welled up in her eyes as the strange man manhandled her. This had gone from being scary but in an exciting way to utterly terrifying. They had to listen to her. She’d saved Ashariah’s life, and they were treating her like the enemy. It would be all right. Tarek would come, and he would explain it all.
But what if he didn’t?
They stood on a huge flat platform atop a massive stone structure. It spread out below them like a pyramid; from what she could see, it was a fortress or a castle. Mountain peaks stretched into the distance in either direction, painted in shades of blue and gray by the hazy light. Below the fortress, the mountains sloped into a craggy valley with scraggly-looking trees. The sky overhead was a strange shade of blue, tinged with a hint of green as if the whole world was ill.
Beneath her feet was a pattern of gleaming reflective stone. A sharp contrast separated the reflective stone from the darker stone around it. As she traced the pattern with her eyes, she realized the reflective pieces formed a geometric pattern against the dark stone. Like the huge white H painted on the hospital’s roof, this was a landing beacon, only for dragons.
She sure as hell wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Her head spun again as she realized how far she was from anything familiar.
The woman yanked on the chains, pulling Gabby forward to a doorway. With the chains, she had to follow or fall flat on her face. The links were heavy, and her muscles soon burned with the effort of keeping herself moving.
Set into the mountain itself, the doorway led into an anteroom with several more armed guards flanking each interior door. The anteroom was rounded to a dome at the top, carved from smooth dark stone. There were no decorations, save for simple engravings over the arches of each of the three interior doors. The door guards each wore the same dark blue uniform. And each carried a spear as tall as a man, with a wickedly jagged edge that would tear at the innards of whatever it penetrated.
The naked man flanked them. As he entered the anteroom, he spoke to the nearest guard. Gesturing with his spear, the guard pointed toward the far wall. The naked man followed his gesture and disappeared into a side door.
The center door, directly opposite the outside door from which they had entered, was three times the width of the others, while the others that sat adjacent to it were close to the size of a normal door from home. Each door had a silver plate mounted at shoulder-height on the left side of its frame. When they approached, Gabby saw what the plates were for.
The woman holding her chains spoke to the guard at the right-hand door. There was a hint of movement as each of the guards eased the spears forward, like they were waiting for an attack. As if the trussed-up human woman posed a threat to a bunch of hulking dragon-men with spears.
After inspecting Gabby, the guard wrinkled his nose and put his bare palm against the silver plate. Purple light radiated from his hand, spreading out on the plate. A few seconds later, the light faded, and the guard pushed gently on the door. It swung inward, allowing the woman to pull Gabby inside.
A now-familiar voice called from behind them. The man from the Drakemont had covered himself with a rough leather loincloth, leaving his powerful chest and arms bare. He hurried toward them, taking up the last remaining space in the small room.
The room was small, no bigger than a bathroom stall. Inside, one wall housed a square array of the silver plates. The woman put her palm on the plate in the bottom right corner. It lit up, and suddenly the room moved. It was an elevator.
When Tarek had referred to his home, it hadn’t seemed like a reality to her. She hadn’t even been able to conceive of another entire world beyond her own, but here she was, watching two dragon-people operate an elevator seemingly by magic. If not for the insanity of the whole situation, Gabby might have enjoyed the novelty of it. As it was, she was praying that she didn’t vomit up her midnight gas-station snack. Where exactly where they taking her? It couldn’t have been to a penthouse suite for honored guests, not with chains snapped around her wrists like a prisoner.
There was also Tarek’s notable absence. She’d have understood if he’d been a few minutes behind her, but it didn’t make sense that it had been so long. She’d never been the type to wish for someone to swoop in and rescue her, but if there was an appropriate time for it, it was now.
The lift was surprisingly fast. When it finally stopped its descent, they emerged into another austere chamber. A doorway opposite the lift was dark, the space beyond a mystery. The air smelled musty, and only worsened as they got closer. She didn’t know what was past the dark archway, but she didn’t want to go there. Instinctively, she dug in her heels, trying to lean back and keep them from taking her beyond the door.
The man in the loincloth sighed. “Really?”
The two guards were unfazed. The woman yanked hard on the chain to pull her off balance, while her partner shoved Gabby in the back, toppling her onto her hands and knees. With her head bowed, she sucked in a sharp breath, clenched her fist
s, and swallowed down the panic. This was scary, but she was going to handle it like she did everything else. Assess, decide, execute.
Emotional Gabby wanted to pitch a fit and fight the whole way. Logical Gabby knew she was outnumbered and outmatched, and that resistance was going to get her hurt or worse. It would be smarter to go along with them and watch for anything that she could use to free herself. When the male guard grabbed her under the arms again, she didn’t resist.
The archway opened to a larger room, walled in silver-flecked stone like the rest of the fortress she’d seen so far. The room was dim, lit only by glowing blue lamps mounted on the walls. Toward the back of the room was a rough-hewn table holding three metal mugs and a platter of bread and cheese. Her stomach growled at the sight of it, reminding her she hadn’t eaten a real meal in a while.
Behind the table was a wooden door standing ajar. To the left was another dark doorway, and to the right of the table were two more hallways. Guarding each corridor was a pair of armed guards. They looked less ceremonial than the guards who were escorting her, with plainer blue tabards over scuffed, dark leather garments.
Her captors walked her toward the left doorway. The two guards parted, not even giving her a second look as she passed. The corridor beyond was lit only by a hazy glow from a series of glass orbs hanging from chains overhead. Either side of the corridor was lined in barred cells, each narrow and cramped. They passed a few empty cells, then came to one holding a huge black and white cat pacing the cell. It looked like a panther that had rolled in flour. It paused its pacing, then lunged at the bars and snarled. Gabby screamed in fright, prompting a laugh from her captors. The woman shouted at it. It growled in response, but it backed away from the bars.
Nearly at the end of the corridor, the guards stopped. The woman reached out to one of the cell doors on the left side of the hall, which was secured by one of the glowing plates she’d seen in the elevator. The door swung open, and her partner shoved Gabby inside. She stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet.
Inside, the cell was barely wide enough for her to spread her arms, and she could easily reach up to touch the ceiling. It was dingy, but not filthy. There was no bed to speak of, only an oblong cubby carved into the stone wall. A thick ring was mounted to the wall above the cubby. Moldy straw was piled in the back corner.
Her heart thumped as she inspected the cell. Don’t panic, she scolded herself. What would she need to get out of here?
Hope rose in her as the female guard entered the cell and knelt in front of her. With a key from her belt, she unlocked the shackles around Gabby’s ankles. Gabby resisted the urge to kick the woman. It might have been satisfying, but it wouldn’t have accomplished much other than angering her.
The woman rose, still holding the small key, but didn’t unlock her wrists. She folded her arms over her chest and regarded Gabby with her nostrils flared. “Inan tam?”
“I don’t understand you,” Gabby pleaded.
“You only speak English?” the man from the Drakemont asked.
“And Spanish,” she said. “I’m not from your world.”
“That much is clear,” he said. He spoke to the female guard, eliciting a curt response.
“What is this about?”
He ignored her question and waited for the female guard to finish working. The woman unlocked the manacles from Gabby’s left wrist, then threaded the chain through the ring on the wall. When she had finished, she backed away slowly.
The chain was heavy and cold, but she had enough length that she could let her arm rest by her side. She didn’t test it, not with three pissed-off dragon people staring her down, but she estimated that she’d have enough length to get to the cell door.
The man from the Drakemont spoke to the guards. The woman exited the cell, then locked it behind herself, again by placing her palm on the metal plate. There was a metallic chime that rang in the air, and then she disappeared down the dark corridor. Crap. There was no key to steal. How was she supposed to get out?
“What is this about?” Gabby asked again.
“You tell me,” the man said. “You arrived at a secret location of my people, bearing with you the badly injured body of our princess. You carry the weapon of our enemy, and you know names you should not.”
“But I told you, I met Tarek and—”
“And I might have gotten the truth out of you the usual way, but that’s the most interesting part. You are Vak, a human, in your language. I should be able to command you to speak the truth, and yet, you resist. That is very unusual. What are you?”
“I’m just a human doctor,” she said.
“Maybe you are,” he said. “And maybe you are something else.” With that, he turned to walk away.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“To give my report to the Adamant Guard. May I offer some advice? When they return to question you, be honest. Things will be much easier for you. The queen will not take this lightly upon seeing her daughter’s condition.” He walked away, ignoring her protests hanging in the air.
Chilly dread settled over her, weighing on her like an icy blanket. They thought she had something to do with Ashariah’s condition. A spy, maybe. It was ludicrous, but the logical side of her could understand where they’d piece it together.
When they return to question you.
A shudder skittered down her spine. She’d managed to be relatively calm and logical until now, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to fall apart. But she was skirting that edge as she slowly faced the realization that she was in a very bad situation with no way out. She was utterly helpless, which made her sick to her stomach. Unless Tarek arrived to clear things up, or Ashariah miraculously woke up, then she was about to face a bunch of angry dragons with only her word. She’d never wished for a man to rescue her from anything, but she was wishing it now, with everything she had.
Please hurry, she thought as much as prayed. Please come for me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Awareness came slowly to Tarek. First he smelled a familiar, spicy scent like burning incense. Then he heard the low hum of the portal, which snapped his attention to the present. He opened his eyes to see a low gray stone ceiling.
As his sharp eyes scanned the room, the long embroidered silver banners told him he was no longer in the human world, but instead in his home world of Ascavar. He sat upright and groaned as the headache of a lifetime pounded at his temples like a sledgehammer. A thick quilt covered his lower body, which ached like the rest of him. Dark gray curtains hung around his sickbed to create a tiny private room.
“Easy,” a female voice said. One of the Ascavar Gatekeepers, Kaliyah, sat on a stool in the gap where the curtain parted, allowing her a vantage point of the portal and Tarek simultaneously. With her dark skin and unusually pale blue eyes, she was lovely. She was as deadly as she was beautiful, which was why she guarded the Gate on the Ascavar side. “You’re home.”
“I need to go,” he said. He threw off the quilt, exposing his body to the cold air. With a violent shiver, he stood up, catching Kaliyah’s eye.
She raised an eyebrow and looked him over. “It would be wise to rest instead. You’ve clearly had an interesting day.”
He looked down. A trio of claw marks ran from beneath his left nipple to his right hip, where the silver dragon had slashed him. The wounds were smeared in a healing ointment, glistening with a faint green tinge. There were black and purple splotches of bruising across his right shoulder and hip, and his right calf was still seeping blood. The gunshots Gabrielle had patched for him no longer bled, but they remained open wounds surrounded in dark bruising. He had definitely seen better days.
“I’m fine.”
“I politely disagree. You should rest,” Kaliyah said. “We can maintain watch without you.”
“Watch?” Tarek said incredulously. “You took an innocent woman to the dungeons. I have to go before they make a mistake.”
“Who?”
Wh
o? Did none of them care what had happened? “The woman who brought Ashariah here,” he said. “Did Shazakh not tell you?”
“Shazakh said that one of the Vak had brought Ashariah here, and that they suspected her of collaborating with the Ironflight.”
“Vazredakh,” Tarek spat. “I’ll kill him. I told him to speak to—”
“Calm yourself, Windstriker. After dragging your stubborn hide through the Gate, he passed along your concerns and told me you insisted the Vak was an ally.”
“And what are you doing about it?”
“Until approximately two minutes ago, I was watching over you to ensure you didn’t bleed to death, you fool of a dragon,” Kaliyah snapped, eyes narrowing into a glare. “I sent a messenger ahead to the Rise.”
Tarek growled low in his throat. “If they hurt a single hair on her head, I will tear them limb from limb.”
Kaliyah chuckled, one eyebrow arched in amusement. “My, Tarek. This Vak must be quite the seductress to have you so agitated. I’ve not seen you in such a state in many years.”
The other Gatekeeper’s casual tone ignited a firestorm of rage in his gut. His stomach lurched, and before he realized it, his hands were curled into fists. He took a clumsy step toward Kaliyah. Her lazy smile evaporated, and her hand went instinctively to the knife on her belt. Her blue eyes widened as she rose from the stool and stepped back into a defensive stance. The realization that he was ready to attack one of his own stopped him short.
“I’m leaving,” Tarek said, forcing each word out and tempering his voice with great effort. “And you will not stand in my way.”
Kaliyah regarded him sternly. Then she shrugged. “What is it to me if you die of your injuries? You won’t be the first fool to die of stupidity.” She stepped out of his way gesturing toward the portal, beyond which was a barred wooden door to the outside world. “By all means.”