Wings of Stone (The Dragons of Ascavar Book 1)

by JD Monroe

  With his bare feet on the stone and gravity working against him, he realized how much the last day’s efforts had taken out of him. He was exhausted, with an ache that radiated from his very bones. Each step on the hard stone sent a tremor through his body, a stinging soreness that the healing ointment did not touch.

  “I’m sure it simply slipped your mind, but the princess was brought through several hours ago,” Kaliyah called out, her clear voice filling him with guilt. “If you decide to vent your rage to the queen, perhaps you should start with inquiring after her daughter.”

  He growled under his breath and stalked toward the barred door. The nearest Gatekeeper, a young Kadirai he didn’t recognize, hurried to unbar it, giving him a nod of respect as Tarek stormed past.

  The Stoneflight were not known for being cruel for cruelty’s sake, but neither were they known for being merciful. And if they believed Gabrielle to be responsible for Ashariah’s condition, then they would err on the side of swift justice. The death of Princess Ivralah still lived fresh in the collective memory of the Stoneflight, and they would relish the chance to exact justice on the coward who ambushed the queen’s only remaining child.

  It took Tarek a moment to acclimate to his home world once more. Inside the small chamber of Broken Stone Keep, near the Gate, it was nearly the same as the Gate in the human realm except for the decorations adorning the walls. It had the same humming portal, around which was a large chamber built of silver-flecked stone. But beyond the heavy wooden doors, everything was different.

  The Broken Stone Gate was one of a dozen that had been discovered in Ascavar. They were tears in the fabric of the world, like hidden burrows that connected their realm to the human realm. Legend told that they had been torn open by the long-extinct Duskflight, servants of the Skymother’s antithesis, the Shadow King himself. As far as Tarek concerned, those were mere fairy tales. But the Gates were certainly real.

  Once just a novelty that allowed for a peek into the human realm they called Eldavar, the Gates had become of great strategic value when the ancient Empress Adushari had used the portals to travel their world quickly and obtain passage into hostile territories. Once, the portals had been open to all, but during the Great War, their locations had become fiercely protected secrets.

  The landscape around the Broken Stone Gate was shattered, marked forever by the foul magic unleashed during the Great War. The ground was cracked and gray, with not so much as a blade of grass in sight. The sun burned high and hot in the green-tinged sky. Behind him, Broken Stone Keep appeared to be a natural rock formation, protected with an illusion built by the air dragons of the Stoneflight.

  Tarek knelt on the cracked ground, passing his hands over the dry, rough surface. It wasn’t warm or welcoming, but it was home. He took a deep breath and drew on the ragged threads of his energy to make his transformation. He felt a great deal better than when he’d stumbled into the Drakemont, but now he felt like a bag of bones covered in a giant bruise. Once the great bones had formed, leathery wings stretching between the fine flight bones, he let out a sigh of relief.

  With a burst of force down through his scaled legs, he soared into the sky. Orienting himself by the distant swath of green forest and gray mountains, he flew toward his home. Here in Ascavar, magic was active and wild, crackling in the very air and tickling the smooth surface of his wings. It made him stronger and faster, but it also made him vulnerable. His hold on his form was more tenuous here. Paired with his weakness from the battles of the previous day, it would take just one wrong breath to lose control and fall from the sky.

  No matter. He had to get to the Rise, even if he collapsed on his feet as soon as he landed. He would not allow Gabrielle to be harmed.

  As he closed the distance to the citadel, his mind drifted to Gabrielle. Would she be pleased to see him? Or would she be justifiably angry that he’d sent her into an ambush? He should have known that his fellow Gatekeepers would err on the side of caution, and finding a human with an injured Ashariah in tow was strange enough for them to toss her into a cell and ask questions later.

  Nestled into the craggy wall of the Azure Peaks, the huge fortress of Adamantine Rise came into sight within half an hour. The fortress filled the space between two mountains, which had given rise to many bawdy jokes among the Adamant Guard. It was integrated almost seamlessly into the mountains, with large portions of the fortress actually carved into the natural stone. Terraces and balconies dotted the sides of both mountains and the structure itself. Long, narrow walkways with curved roofs bridged the higher levels. The fortress extended away from the mountains on either side in curving walls that met at the great gates to the city below. Within the curving walls was the green expanse of the healing gardens.

  Below the Rise was the bustling city of Farath, inhabited by the other shapeshifters, the Edra, and the Vak, the humans who also dwelt in Ascavar. Dragons circled the skies above and soared between the skywalks, unworried about being seen from below. The humans of Ascavar were used to the sight of winged dragons soaring above them.

  The citadel rose nearly to a pinnacle, but instead of a sharp point with a wind-whipped banner, it was topped by a rounded stone room. From above, it looked like a cake that had been cut into a crescent. Most of the level was taken up by the landing platform, but along the side closest to the mountains was an enclosed anteroom where the guards kept supplies. A large statue of the Skymother, wings spread and neck arched toward the sky, perched on top of the guard’s chamber.

  All along the landing platform, guards in human form and dragon form stood at the ready. Four in human form held spears, with two guarding the doorway into the fortress and two patrolling the perimeter. Two dragons perched on vantage points, while a third circled the sky above.

  Bright white stone was inlaid in the darker stone to create a landing beacon for the Kadirai. He turned in a wide spiral as he slowed his flight, landing neatly on one point of the seven-pointed star. As soon as his talons clacked against the stone, he lost control of his transformation. His body burned with feverish heat as he returned to human form. The guards on the platform snapped to attention, bringing their spears to the ready.

  “Dath sequa,” he said breathlessly, his chest still heaving with the effort of transformation. As he spoke, he made a fist and bowed, greeting them in the traditional way of the Adamant Guard. He didn’t recognize the guards, but they seemed satisfied that he belonged there.

  Beyond the guards was a crescent-shaped chamber. At the center of the back wall was a wide archway that granted access to the citadel. Off to the right was a small cabinet, a weapon rack, and a table for the guards. To the left was a smaller room with an open doorway. Tarek entered the open door and scanned the supply room. A rough-hewn trunk sat in one corner, and a rack of plain garments hung on the wall. He grabbed the first thing he saw, a smooth leather waistcloth, and tied it around his waist to cover himself. The room was intended for that very purpose—for the queen’s staff to dress themselves and prepare to enter the citadel.

  Without waiting for an escort, Tarek approached the larger door. He repeated his greeting, and the two guards nodded to him as they stood aside to let him enter. Beyond the archway was the central column with a winding staircase that snaked around two magic-powered lifts. The Gatekeepers had likely brought her here and headed down the lift to the dungeons, so that was where he followed.

  The foul smell of fear and desperation greeted him as soon as the lift stopped in the basement of the citadel. The dungeons of Adamantine Rises were buried deep in the mountain, far from the open skies and fresh air.

  When he reached the anteroom, two of the Adamant Guard sat at a table eating from a wooden platter of roasted meat and flaky bread. At his approach, they both looked up. The man, who was huge and made the blue uniform tabard look like a scarf strung around his neck, stood and looked over Tarek, looking unimpressed.

  “Who are—”

  “Where is she?” Tarek demanded. “The Vak
?”

  The female guard swallowed and put her half-eaten slice of bread on the tray. With her eyes still on him, she stood and rested her hand on the heavy sword on her belt. Her body language gave her away; she was intimidated and trying not to show it. “What business is it of yours?”

  “You will release her.”

  “We have orders from the queen to keep her here,” the woman snapped at him, her posture stiffening.

  “Did you tell the queen that the Vak saved her daughter’s life?”

  The two guards glanced at each other, looking like they were trying to decide if he was lying. Tarek took advantage of their distraction and hurried past them down the corridor on the left. The sight of the tiny, dirty cells set off the blaze of anger in his belly again. “Gabrielle!” he bellowed.

  The sound of his voice set off some of the other prisoners. A huge cat shifter threw itself at the bars, snarling at him. He ignored it, hurrying past as he called her name again and again. The deeper he went into the dungeon, the harder his heart thumped. If things had moved quickly enough, a vindictive guard might have gotten orders to question their prisoner, and the thought of them torturing her for answers she couldn’t give whipped his guts into a sickening churn.

  “Gabrielle!”

  “Tarek?” a distant voice called from down the corridor. “Tarek!” Her voice stopped suddenly, as if someone had struck her. A rage like he’d never experienced washed through him. White spots flashed in his vision as he hurried toward the large door at the end of the hall. As he got closer, he could detect her smell; the intoxicating smell of her shampoo, but underneath, an acrid note of fear.

  Voices issued through the heavy door. He raised a fist and pounded hard enough to make his joints hurt. “Open the door!” he bellowed in Kadirai. Before he could pound again, the door flew open.

  The room was a small interrogation chamber, with enough sharp implements and chains hanging from the walls to intimidate the most stoic warrior. Gabrielle sat in a rough wooden chair in the middle of the room, a heavy chain wrapped around her waist and pinning her arms to her sides. A possessive, fiercely protective anger swelled up in him, followed closely by a hot wave of guilt. Her pretty face was marred with a dark, swollen knot on her cheek, but she looked otherwise untouched.

  To his surprise, Zafar, one of the Gatekeepers from the Drakemont, leaned against a table. He looked up in surprise. “Tarek?”

  “Oh, thank God,” Gabrielle blurted. “Please, tell them—”

  “Let her go. Now,” Tarek said.

  Another of the Adamant Guard, an older and high-ranked officer named Rezahn, stood behind Gabrielle. He remembered Rezahn from his days as a recruit guarding the dungeons. Rezahn’s wiry silver hair was cropped short and combed away from his sharp features. “This is a serious matter, Tarek. This woman—”

  “This woman saved the life of our princess,” Tarek said. “And mine. If you do not let her go, I will gladly inform the queen of your mistreatment.”

  “The queen ordered that she be questioned,” a hesitant female voice spoke up. A diminutive Kadirai woman stepped forward from the shadows. Her ornately embroidered blue dress, cut with angular panels over dark leg wraps, identified her as a page for one of the queen’s councilors. A dark silver sash crossed her chest, pinned with a large medallion that identified her as a servant to the library. She worked for Councilor Eszen, the queen’s historian and magic scholar.

  “Then the queen does not know the whole story. Either get her down here, or I will go to her. Your choice.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Gabrielle had never been so happy to see a man in her life as when she saw Tarek barrelled into the room. He looked rough, with deep slashes across his chest and a smattering of dark bruises all over. Like the other man from the Drakemont, he wore a loincloth around his waist. He could have shown up in a tutu and she would have still have been ecstatic.

  Considering all of the conversation was in their native tongue, she didn’t follow it. But she didn’t have to understand a single word to know that Tarek was furious. His fists clenched so tight that the thick veins stood out from wrist to shoulder. After a heated argument, the small woman who’d been observing the questioning sprinted out of the room.

  She’d never been a damsel in distress, wishing for a prince to save her. You couldn’t count on anyone to save you. She’d learned that from a young age, when her father took off and left her mother to care for a sick child alone. Life had only reaffirmed her philosophy as the handful of guys she’d dated throughout college had all eventually drifted away, saying she was too involved in her studies. God forbid a girl be motivated. She’d given it one last shot in med school, but when she’d let her walls down for Tyler, another medical resident, he’d broken things off, telling her she was too independent. According to Tyler, he didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t need him.

  Well, maybe Tyler would have been pleased to see this turn of events. For the first time in decades, maybe her entire life, Gabrielle Rojas needed someone to rescue her. She was about as damsel-in-distress as it got at the moment, and the only person who could save her was a strapping hunk of a man. Not quite a knight in shining armor, but a dragon-man in a precariously short loincloth would have to do.

  “Did they hurt you?” Tarek asked.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “You have to explain what happened. They didn’t believe me.”

  Tarek glowered at the man from the Drakemont. “You did this?”

  “What did you expect? If you were on watch and a human showed up carrying the broken body of our princess, would you have patted her on the head and sent her on her happy way?”

  “I’m not a dog,” Gabby said flatly. “Can you please unlock this?”

  The chains were heavy and cold, although her treatment so far hadn’t been the nightmarish torture she had imagined in the hours before they came back for her. The other man, the older one with the silver hair, had grabbed her face to silence her when Tarek called, but otherwise, they’d been humane. Still, considering how frustrated they’d seemed, she was sure they were ready to escalate their methods at any moment.

  “Unlock her,” Tarek ordered. When the other man, her translator, just stared at him, he barked the same order in the other language. The older man sneered and retorted. Tarek bristled, taking a long stride toward the other man. The silver-haired man’s hand went to his sword, fingers curling slowly around the hilt. Neither made a move. Then Tarek broke away, muttering to himself. Instead, he positioned himself next to Gabby. He looked down and spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I’ll handle this. I promise you.”

  She nodded slowly. “I trust you.”

  The older man had been barking questions, which the man from the Drakemont translated. The same thing over and over. Who are you? How do you resist? Where did you get the blade?

  One of the questions was easy, even though they were convinced that she was hiding something. The blade concerned them; they said it was from the Ironflight, which meant nothing to Gabby. It was an enemy, which was probably all she needed to know. The thing that really had them worried was her resistance to their attempts to control her mind. Both of them had tried, making that same intense eye contact and then pushing somehow from inside her head. Every time, it was the same uncomfortable sensation, but nothing more. They weren’t pleased about it, demanding to know how she was immune. Telling them “I guess I’m just a special snowflake,” hadn’t done much for their mood.

  Tarek’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder. The warm, kind touch was a welcome change from her unpleasant treatment over the last few hours, though she wondered how much was for her sake and how much was to keep himself standing. He leaned on her enough that she could tell he was struggling. The weight came and went, like he couldn’t quite find his balance. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and along his muscular back.

  They waited in silence for what seemed like ages, all of the dragons glaring at each other. From dow
n the corridor came a gradual crescendo of noise that resolved into individual voices as it got closer. Metal clanged in time with rhythmic footsteps. Then it was quiet.

  Two uniformed guards appeared at the door. Both men were a sight to behold, standing at least six inches taller than Tarek, who was already a big man. Their muscular frames were adorned in fine dark blue uniforms, with elaborately engraved shoulder pauldrons, ornate chest plates, and wickedly jagged spears standing at their sides. They were both beyond attractive; beautiful was a more appropriate term to describe their chiseled faces and bright eyes.

  At the sight of them, Tarek straightened suddenly, placing his fist to his chest and tipping his head slightly. The other two men stiffened, turning toward the door and making the same gesture. Gabby craned her neck to see what they were looking for.

  A tall, regal woman stood in the open doorway. She had to be the queen.

  Well over six feet tall, she wore filmy garments of blue and purple that veiled her body and left her long, muscular legs exposed. Ornate golden jewelry with glittering blue stones decorated her neck, wrists, and bare feet. In place of a crown, she wore a circlet with a glowing purple gem. Thick dark hair spilled back from the circlet and over her shoulders. Her face was beautiful, but somehow strange, with razor-sharp features that were inhuman enough to warrant a second glance. If Gabby had seen her back home, she might have thought way too much plastic surgery.

  And her eyes, so pale blue they were almost silver, were fixed on Gabby. Her full lips were set in a grim slash as she examined Gabby. She carried no weapons, but her very presence was intimidating. It felt like she consumed all the air in the room.

  The queen spoke to her, her voice rich and smoky. Raising his head slowly, Tarek responded. At first, the queen looked annoyed at his interference, but he gestured to Gabby and shook his head as he spoke again. The queen nodded slowly. She raised an eyebrow and said, “Do you understand me now?” in thickly accented English.