Rania watched Argenta abandon her spinning. She glanced toward the door as if fearing a reprimand, then shyly came to the window. Her eyes glowed with happiness as she approached Notus and Rania wished she could hear the words they exchanged. Argenta’s smile was quick and her blush was enchanting. She moved quickly then, putting her hand upon that of Notus on the sill and leaning against the bars for their first kiss. The firestorm flared to brilliant white and Rania heard Notus catch his breath at its power.
This would be the true measure of the firestorm. What would Notus do after it was satisfied? Would Argenta be abandoned once she carried his child?
This was the part where the myth would have to give way to the truth. Rania leaned forward to make sure she didn’t miss a word.
Hadrian heard the rumble of Alasdair’s voice from his lair and knew that his cousin was telling a story, using his gift as a fog dragon to show it at the same time. He smiled to himself, halfway wishing he was there to watch and listen.
He was surprised that his mate had agreed to listen, but maybe his cousin was more persuasive than he’d managed to be. Either way, he’d make use of every possible moment he had left.
Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of Hadrian’s neck. He was in the act of landing another blow on the last of the talons but his hammer never struck.
He was frozen, trapped in a single moment. He was motionless and couldn’t do anything about it. The weight of the hammer made his muscles strain in his shoulder but he couldn’t drop it, put it down, or lift it to a more comfortable position. Alasdair’s voice had silenced, too, and the clock on the wall was no longer ticking.
The silver light in the periphery of his vision gave him a good idea why.
Someone grabbed his elbow and spun him around in place, like a mannequin in a store window. It was a Fae warrior, a big blond one who looked faintly familiar. He turned Hadrian so that the Pyr was facing one of his own worktables. Maeve sat on the table, legs crossed. She was wearing a black suit with feathers around the collar, and wore high-heeled shoes. One foot swung as she smiled at him. Her lipstick was the color of blood and her dark eyes were filled with fury, despite her smile. “Apparently, it’s true that if you want something done, you need to do it yourself.”
He had a very bad feeling about this visit, but there was exactly nothing he could do about it. That made him feel even worse.
She picked up the Fae sword, balancing it on her hands. Her lips tightened as she glanced down at the blade. It had changed even more since Hadrian had last looked at it. The blade was completely clear, like it was made of ice, and the hilt had turned from silver to cloudy white. Water dripped from the tip of the blade, which had become much shorter, and Hadrian realized that the weapon was melting.
Was it because he’d killed the Fae warrior entrusted with it?
“This is your fault,” she said accusingly, which didn’t exactly answer his question. The Dark Queen grimaced and offered what was left of the sword to her warrior. “It’ll ruin my skirt,” she said and he took it, bowing low to her afterward. He placed the blade on a different table, then stood at attention between the Dark Queen and the melting weapon.
Maeve considered Hadrian and her eyes glinted with what might have been amusement. The apparent change in her mood did nothing to reassure him. “You should know that the Others are concerned that I don’t seem to hunt the Pyr. They think there’s something special about you dragon shifters, and some have concluded that you’ve made a bargain with me to ensure your own survival.” She arched a brow. “The truth, of course, is much simpler. You fall lower on my list since you’re not a native species, so to speak.”
Hadrian didn’t understand what that meant.
Maeve chuckled, as if she’d read his thoughts, and he remembered her reputation. He tried to keep his thoughts simple. “There were no dragon shifters on Earth,” she informed him. “Not originally. No divinity created dragon shifters here either. You’re all aliens who arrived out of the blue and mingled with the local inhabitants. You’ve been here a long time, but that doesn’t make you native.” Her voice hardened, even as Hadrian wondered whether that was true. “You’re still mutants and you still taint the planet with your presence, but you’re foreigners. Immigrants. I’ll get to you after the Others who originated here.” She swung her foot a little more and smiled at him. “I didn’t plan for the other shifters to turn against the Pyr, but it might work out quite well. The Others could do some of the work for me. There could be fewer of you to slaughter by the time my main quest is complete.”
That wasn’t the most reassuring thing she could have said. How could Hadrian save his fellow Pyr? The gloves were closer to completion but not done, and that annoyed him.
Maeve raised a hand and shook a finger at him. “You know, I didn’t think much of it when Rania chose you as her Pyr victim. I gave her that assignment to worry you all a bit and it’s a bonus that it’s sowing some dissent amongst the Others. But she has an instinct, that one, and she chose very, very well.”
Maeve slipped off the table and moved past the Fae warrior to look down at the weapon again. It was even smaller than it had been and the hilt was beginning to melt now. “You know I can’t tolerate this. My warriors must be armed, and that means you must die now.”
She would kill him before he could finish the gloves for the other Pyr.
She would kill him before he could have the same effect on the entire Fae armory. If Hadrian had been breathing, that realization would have made his breath catch. As it was, his thoughts spun. The Dark Queen had a vulnerability and he’d learned about it only when it was too late to do anything about it.
Maeve laughed. “Exactly,” she said with approval. She snapped her fingers and a slit of silver light appeared. Someone stepped through the gap before it was closed. Hadrian was surprised to see that it was Kade, the Pyr who had betrayed him.
Hadrian had admitted Kade to Rhys’ apartment when Kade had lied to him. Kade had then stolen the stylus Maeve had originally given to him, the one that let him enter Fae at will. He’d been forced to surrender it to the Pyr, but had tricked Hadrian to steal it back. Kade had then disappeared. Hadrian itched to teach the faithless dragon shifter a lesson, but he couldn’t even blink.
Kade stared at Maeve with adoration. She ran a hand across his cheek, as if he was a pet poodle, and Hadrian realized that Kade was completely in the Dark Queen’s thrall. Would that be enough to turn him against his fellow Pyr? Hadrian feared it might be, and once again hated that he was powerless.
Why hadn’t Alasdair heard the Fae arrive? Did it have something to do with the clock stopping?
Were they outside of time?
Maeve reached up and touched her lips to Kade’s mouth briefly, a move that made the dragon shifter tremble with desire. Hadrian saw the Fae warrior flinch, and wondered whether Maeve was aware of his jealousy.
“Destroy it all,” Maeve whispered to Kade. She laughed and made a gesture, summoning a red halo of light. “In silence!”
Kade moved immediately to stoke up the fire in the forge and Hadrian knew what he was going to do. He would have appealed to Kade in old-speak, but he couldn’t make a sound. He tried to call to Alasdair and Balthasar but he couldn’t utter a word, in old-speak or aloud. He screamed in outrage in his thoughts but no sound emerged.
And as he struggled against the prison his body had become, Kade threw the newly-made blades into the crucible. They landed soundlessly and the fire jumped hungrily. The flames should have been roaring, but there was no sound. Kade pushed the crucible into the forge and Hadrian watched helplessly as his work was destroyed and the blades melted.
Kade then shattered the template for the laser cutter, an act that should have made a lot of noise, but one that also happened in silence. If that wasn’t enough, Kade shifted shape, becoming a powerful dragon of amber and gold. Maeve’s red glow seemed to pulse with malice as Kade smashed the laser machine, too, ensuring that no one could prod
uce blades easily in the studio again.
Kade then breathed dragonfire with gusto, setting the studio alight. His ability to breathe fire had always been impressive, and Hadrian couldn’t help wishing it had been a little less so. The tables and the walls began to burn, the bright light of the forge glowing in the middle of it all. There wasn’t a single sound as the sparks jumped and the fire spread. Hadrian could only watch as his studio was destroyed.
He noticed then that the Fae sword had completely melted away, the last drop of the water sizzling as it evaporated. There was no sign that it had ever existed, except a faint shimmer of silver that vanished almost as soon as Hadrian noticed it.
Maeve stood beside the Fae warrior, watching with satisfaction as Kade shifted to his human form again and returned to her side. She pointed down and he knelt to kiss her shoe. Her eyes shone with triumph as she met Hadrian’s gaze.
“No more,” she said with quiet conviction. Again, she turned her wrist, as if summoning something to her. The red glow spun around the studio, then gathered in the palm of her hand, like an orb of fire. “No more from you,” she said darkly. Her eyes lit as she cast the sphere of red light at Hadrian.
It struck him in the middle of the chest and flared to brilliance before it died away. Hadrian felt the cold in his fingertips and toes first, then watched as a layer of hoarfrost spread over his skin. His skin turned pale and white. He felt chilled first, then cold, then he couldn’t feel anything at all. It was horrifying to only be able to watch the progress of Maeve’s curse, to feel it traveling up his arms and legs, making steady progress from his extremities to his heart.
He panicked, knowing he was going to die, that his mate would never be able to fulfill her quest, that Maeve had tricked them both. He watched as the Dark Queen tucked one hand into Kade’s elbow and the other into the arm of the Fae warrior. She surveyed the studio, then looked between her minions with satisfaction. She nodded and the Fae warrior sliced open the air with his dagger, leading her through a portal to the shimmering silver light of Fae. Kade followed like a devoted puppy and Maeve never looked back. The Fae warrior smirked at Hadrian as he closed the portal between the worlds.
And the fire raged on.
Hadrian felt himself begin to rotate between forms involuntarily and he knew he was dying. It nearly broke his heart for his last view to be the wanton destruction of his life’s work. There were so many things he hadn’t done, including the satisfaction of his own firestorm. He left no legacy: no talons to aid his fellow Pyr, no son, thanks to this Fae attack. He ached for his mate’s lost chance to free her brothers and wondered how many more centuries she’d spend killing Others for Maeve.
He closed his eyes in his dragon form, knowing the next shift would be his last.
Eight
Rania felt an odd tick. For the merest second, it seemed as if everything had frozen, as if time had stopped, as if she was snared in the moment of watching Notus and Argenta embrace. Balthasar seemed to have stopped chewing popcorn. Alasdair was caught in the act of breathing fog and telling his story. There was no sound from the studio.
Then she blinked and all seemed to be normal again.
Hadrian hadn’t warned her that the firestorm would make her lose her mind. She grabbed some popcorn and concentrated on Alasdair’s story.
When the pair in the image broke their kiss, Argenta looked at Notus with awe and love. Rania knew the woman would agree to satisfy the firestorm. The firestorm and Notus were working their persuasive spell, but it was easier to wonder about the end result when she wasn’t snared by its power herself.
She understood how Argenta felt all too clearly.
A key turned audibly in a lock and for a moment Rania wasn’t certain whether it was in the vision or Hadrian’s lair. Balthasar munched popcorn, untroubled as he watched, so she realized it was the vision.
Notus fled as a man who must have been Argenta’s father opened the door to his daughter’s room. A second man loomed behind him, and Rania saw that it was Olaf dressed as a rich nobleman. The father was obviously charmed with Olaf and Rania guessed what he would do before he put Argenta’s hand in that of her new suitor.
“Olaf bought Argenta, paying her father a healthy price in exchange for her hand in marriage,” Alasdair said. “The coin later proved to be counterfeit and there was never a wedding. By that time the father knew he had been tricked, Olaf was gone, leaving no sign of Argenta behind.”
A malachite and silver dragon soared into the sky beyond the village, a maiden in his grasp, as the father discovered the coins were false. The father shouted in rage and ran from the house, even as Argenta called for help, so high above the clouds that no one in the village heard her cries. Rania next saw her secured in Olaf’s lair, deep in the earth, and watched her drop her head to hands and weep.
“Olaf didn’t claim the mate because he couldn’t, thanks to the wound Notus had given him,” Alasdair continued. “And their union wouldn’t have resulted in a son, anyway, since he had turned Slayer. He didn’t compel Argenta to spin because he didn’t care about her powers or about silver—he had more than sufficient riches in his hoard. His sole objective was to deny Notus, and as Notus traveled far and wide, seeking some sign of his lost mate, the tale spread to the other Pyr and Slayers.”
Notus looked for his mate? That surprised Rania. She’d expected him to move on, and to spark another firestorm with someone else.
That clearly wasn’t how it worked.
Rania witnessed a gathering of Pyr and wondered who the other dragons were, and whether any of them were still alive. A majestic ebony and pewter dragon seemed to be in charge, although the gathering was a noisy one. Rania felt their outrage grow and saw their passion rise. She saw more than one breathe a plume of fire into the sky in frustration. Meanwhile, another group of dragons gathered close by, led by an elegant dragon of ruby red and brass. He had similar glorious feathers as Notus and Boreus, but his trailed red behind him. He was obviously eloquent and forceful, too.
Rania watched the two groups convene on a lonely mountain peak. They really made a splendid sight and she had to think that the world would be a little less marvelous once they were eliminated.
“Words were exchanged between Boris Vassily, the leader of the Slayers, and Erik Sorensson, leader of the Pyr, over the abduction of Notus’ mate,” Alasdair said. Rania understood that this red dragon was Boris and the pewter one was Erik. “Both were new to their leadership and not yet as skilled with diplomacy as they would become.” Rania saw the dispute quickly become volatile, with dragons on both sides breathing plumes of fire and slashing their tails through the air. “Erik had lost his father, his mate and son to the influence of Slayers and was disinclined to tolerate their meddling in firestorms. Boris saw the conflict as an opportunity for the Slayers to change the rules and gain greater power. To interfere with a firestorm was an abomination in the Pyr view and soon Pyr and Slayers were bent upon battle. Their sole item of agreement was a mutual declaration of war. They would meet over the south Pacific, where few humans would witness their fight. The year was 1807.”
Two hundred years before. Rania expected that dragons would fight hard, but she was unprepared for the vivid view of the conflict that Alasdair provided. She felt as if she was there, as if she could smell the fire and the blood, and she watched as numerous dragons fought and died. The battles were vicious and brutal. She saw two dragons spiral out of the distance and target each other, one malachite and silver, the other amber and gold with trailing feathers. They locked claws with such force as they collided that they spun in the air. She saw them taunting each other.
“The most anticipated fight was that between Notus and Olaf, since it had been the reason for the war in the first place,” Alasdair said as the other Pyr and Slayers halted their battles and gathered closer to watch. “By the time Notus located Olaf, the Slayer had been injured.”
Rania saw the slash in Olaf’s side, the one that dripped black blood. Sh
e also noticed that Notus was missing a scale on his mailed chest, right over his heart. Notus struck Olaf hard with his tail then flung the Slayer from his grasp. Olaf made a sharp turn and came raging back, wings pounding the air as he raced toward Notus. He slashed with his talons and breathed fire with such ferocity that it was clear only one dragon shifter would leave the fight alive.
The battle was harsh and merciless. Notus was bleeding from many wounds when he finally tore Olaf’s chest open with his teeth and spat the chunk into the sea. Olaf’s flight faltered, a hint of the magnitude of his injury, but Notus caught him and held him captive.
“It was said that Notus offered Olaf the mercy of a quick death, if only he revealed Argenta’s resting place,” Alasdair said. “Instead, the Slayer laughed, telling Notus that his mate wasn’t dead. She was so well hidden that Notus would never find her in all his days and nights, and Olaf would never confess her location. Notus argued that the firestorm would reveal her location if she was alive, but Olaf insisted that her location meant the firestorm was extinguished. Notus was skeptical but Olaf breathed fire in that moment, just when Notus was leaning close to catch every word, and the Pyr’s face was disfigured forever by the fire. They fought again, even more savagely, and Notus tore off Olaf’s wings, flinging him into the ocean far below. Olaf roared in pain and Notus slashed his gut open, ensuring that the Slayer was dead this time. He didn’t even wait for Olaf to hit the surface of the ocean, but immediately left to seek his mate.”
Rania watched the fight break up after Olaf’s death. Erik and Boris reached detente, then the dragon shifters collected their dead and retreated.
The vision followed Notus, now scarred on his face, but driven to find his hidden mate. Once again, the dark storm clouds followed him, and snow fell often when he landed in a town or village. Rania saw his hopes rise and fall, as he returned to the village where Argenta had been born, as he visited Olaf’s abandoned lair, as he sought her in every corner of the world.
Dragon's Mate: A DragonFate Novel (The DragonFate Novels Book 4) Page 17