by Kenna Bardot
She surged up and the Gods and Goddesses behind me shouted as they inevitably tumbled from the force of the wings of the majestic creature before me. I took the opportunity to walk forward.
Ever closer still.
With her eyes level with mine, her mouth pulled back into a snarl. She breathed me in as if smelling a favorite meal before she could savor it. Each tooth was the size of my head as I gazed back at her, and her nostrils flared in my face.
“It’s nice to see you again,” I whispered, voicing the haunting familiarity I felt for her.
Again? I knew her, didn’t I?
I knew she was a she.
With a swallow, I reached up with my right hand to touch the top of the dragon's nose, feeling her green-tinted red scales shift underneath my touch. She shuddered beneath my palm, as heat shot up my arm and straight to the very center of my being. I gasped, watching the dragon's eyes drift closed as it heaved a sigh that blew my hair back away from my face and her hot breath wafted over my skin.
I shouldn't have known her, shouldn't have felt her in the deepest part of me.
But I did.
She was a part of my life - past, present and future.
I knew her as well as I knew my own mother.
When the heat of the dragon's skin became too much, I pulled back my reddened palm to stare at the irritated flesh as I willed my cold to return it to normal. But even the cold of my Kald ability couldn't fix the burn, couldn't compare to whatever ancient and sacred magic dragons possessed. In front of me, the dragon made a noisy vibration, almost a purr, and opened her mouth.
“Mireyah!” I heard Shep’s voice shout from behind me, but I didn’t turn.
I didn’t have time.
Not when the dragon’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow me whole, and then there was nothing. Nothing but the searing pain on my right wrist as she licked me and wrapped her tongue around it.
It burned like nothing I'd ever felt before. I stared down at my wrist in horror, trying to jerk it free of the creature's tongue. But she didn't relent, just held me tight. It burned worse than my Ascension from human to Sylfe, worse than any of the transformations I'd undergone along my journey to Demiorgo. My other hand reached up to grab my elbow, trying to pull away even harder. There was sympathy in the dragon's eyes, even as it seared through my flesh.
When it finally released me, I stumbled back as I stared at the bubbling red spot where I'd once had skin. The only thing that finally drew my attention away from the wound was the faint sound of a coo.
The dragon's tail plucked a baby dragon from where she'd tucked her into her side, lifting her until she dropped her into my arms. The weight of her, along with the pain of her pressing against my burn, sent me sprawling to my knees.
It was immediate and burning kinship. I could only liken it to what I imagined it felt like to become a mother for the first time, to suddenly be responsible for a life that was precious and loved. The dragon was so different, but she was a part of me. And I was a part of her as she stared up at me with flame red eyes and tilted her head to the side with a little noise. When her head inched forward to nuzzle against the side of my jaw, I sighed with a weak smile.
I'd gone from feeling more alive than ever to feeling like I couldn't support my own weight in minutes, despite the sense of freedom I felt with the dragon in my arms. The mother lifted her other paw, revealing a Goddess clutched tightly there. She was dressed the same way the Dragon Guard were. Purring one last time, the mother's head collapsed to the ground as her eyes drifted closed. The Guard reached out, and I crawled forward to look at her.
She gave me a weak smile. “You made it out too.” A weak cough made her wheeze. “That’s good.” I shook my head in confusion at her statement but watched as her hand dropped and her eyes closed.
Cradling the baby to my chest, feeling the innate need to protect her, to defend her against those who watched and might harm her, I collapsed to my side on the ground. The baby pressed her head into my neck, comforting me through the slow descent into blackness.
"Mireyah!" Shep's voice was anguished, still too distant as he undoubtedly tried to make his way to me. I couldn't move a muscle to tell him I was there, couldn't speak.
And then everything bled into black and there was nothing.
Five
Shep
Gone.
They’d taken her, and there’d been nothing I could do to stop them.
The sound of the metal tools against the marble ground was a steady staccato sound in my ear, but all I heard was the sound of the dragon roaring before Mireyah collapsed. The dust surrounded me, but I could still see Mireyah walk into that danger.
I’d done nothing to stop her. I’d promised that I would always save her, but I’d failed.
Around me, the Gods and Goddesses who had watched like it had been an entertaining show, went back to their boring, miserable, and worthless lives.
And there I was, irrevocably changed when I’d had to watch them take Mireyah away from me.
It was a pain I could say I had never felt before. When Mireyah left Godsvail as a Sylfe, it had not been as painful because I’d prepared for it. I’d known I’d see her again in time.
“Shep!” I turned when a voice called me. I recognized it as Hollis even as I struggled to see through the blurring loss I felt overwhelm me.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I heard what happened. Are you okay? Where’s Mireyah?”
Mireyah. Yes, where was she? “Mireyah.”
He crouched down before me and turned me so I faced him. His red eyes stared into me, calling me back from whatever brink I stood on. “Yes, Shep, Mireyah. She’s not here.”
“They took her. Her and the dragon.” I buried my head in my hands. “They took her away.”
“What? Where?” Hollis’ hand reached down to touch my chin, tilting my head up so I would look at him.
I didn’t know what to tell him. How to look him in the eye when I hadn’t protected her. “I don’t know, Hollis. They didn’t tell me. I only know that the Dragon Guard were here one moment and the next they’d taken Mireyah with them and no one told me a Gods-damned thing!”
“We have to tell the others.” Hollis drew me closer to him, and I allowed myself a moment to take the comfort he openly gave.
“I can’t. I don’t want to relive the moment again, please.” I heard the crackle of the lightning against the sky. Heard the Karfis in the square hastily making repairs speak in panicked voices to one another to finish before the sky opened up. Heard Hollis’ heart as it beat close to my ear - a comforting steady sound that reminded me I wasn’t alone.
But she was.
“We need to, Shep. You need to.” Hollis framed my face in his hands before reaching down to wrap his fingers around mine. “I’ll be there with you.”
I nodded, and he hauled me up to my feet to take me home.
A home that was broken, a home that was incomplete without Mireyah.
✽✽✽
Ryle
With my hands bunched into fists, I desperately wanted to send them crashing into the wall. Break them down until they were rubble on the ground where I’d originally built the structure.
Because that’s what it felt like, a cold structure that was incomplete and cold. The same as we were.
I sat across from my twin who rested his chin on his palm, elbow planted onto the table and a miserable look on his face.
"Don't destroy anything, Ryle." Tate looked towards me, throwing me a slight smile that failed miserably.
I shook my head and pushed off the table, the legs of my chair dragging against the dark oak floor of our kitchen. Hollis positioned himself on the granite stone counter, legs dangling as he buried his face in one of his hands. The other held Shep’s who was turned towards the door leading to the backyard, looking out. Both of them hadn’t reacted in the last ten minutes. To anything.
Char drank a cup of tea as he leaned on the doorjamb of the living r
oom entryway.
When he realized I was staring at him, he raised an eyebrow before taking another sip. He put the cup back down onto the table just beside him. "Well?"
"What do you mean well, Charolais?” Tate spoke up from behind me and I heard the exasperation in his voice.
"It’s been two days and here we are just moping." He stood and walked over to me, his nose nearly touching mine. “Like idiots.”
“It’s not idiocy to miss her.” I bared my teeth, barely resisting the urge to use his nose as my punching bag.
"Hitting me would just make me happy, Ryle." He reached up to touch my shoulder, squeezing it gently but also in warning. It was our birthday, so I knew he tried to be nice. But without Mireyah, there was nothing nice about the day.
"She wanted to plan a surprise for you today.” Shep’s voice could barely be heard, what with his head turned towards the path, like he expected someone to appear there.
Hollis raised his head and tugged on Shep’s hand until he faced him. "What do you mean, Shep?"
“That’s why we were supposed to meet there. Because she wanted to get together to plan a surprise. I was still technically on duty, so I didn’t go to pick her up. I should have.”
"Yeah, you should have. Why didn’t you?” I tried to calm my voice because I didn’t want to be angry with Shep.
But it was a lie to say that I wasn’t. I blamed him for not getting to her, saving her before they could take her away. And he didn’t even fucking know where they’d taken her.
All we knew was that she, like the brave and stubborn woman that she was, approached the dragon that died in the square. And we didn’t even know if she was still alive and well.
“I tried. But what’s one God against a whole slew of the fucking Dragon Guard? Not to mention Zeevar.”
“She’s our wife.”
Hollis stood to wrap an arm around Shep. He threw me an angry look. “Yes, Ryle. Ours. Instead of blaming Shep, think of how much worse this feels for him. He had to be there to see her taken away. He had to live with the trauma of letting us all know what happened and now he’s suffering the consequences of having to go through that.”
“I had to watch her lifeless body go.” Shep leaned against Hollis as he looked down at his hands.
"She's fine. She’s not here, but we’d know if she were hurt." I looked and Charolais looked at us in that way he always did - blank and nearly emotionless.
I knew that look hid the way he cared about Mireyah. About all of us. But he was right to a point, given our Bond. But I just felt so restless about it.
"We need to be sure," I insisted, with a shake of my head. "We can't just sit here hoping she's fine. That's not what she deserves."
"How? We're not even sure where she is and even if we have a reasonable idea where that is, we can't exactly walk into the dragon grounds." Shep looked up from his hands and gave me an incredulous look.
"You said it yourself. Zeevar and Rhiannon were there that day. So we go to the source."
"Rhiannon?"
"Don't be an idiot," my twin stood from the table and from the look in his eyes he had the same thought.
Twins when it truly mattered.
"Zeevar."
"Let me get this straight. You want to march straight up to Zeevar's grand house and demand to know where Mireyah is?" Hollis looked back and forth between me and my brother.
"Yes, for our birthday. That's what we want." I turned to look at my twin, who nodded in agreement.
Char stood from his seat and shrugged. "Fine, let's go. Happy fucking birthday."
We set out. Finding our way proved difficult. But nowhere near as difficult as gaining permission to come onto his private estate. It was really more easily said than done, but we did finally gain an audience with Zeevar. We had to get through several layers of guards and staff and long-winding hallways down to the immense room Zeevar occupied.
It had a high ceiling of opalescent jade surrounded by tall obsidian walls with large windows of smoky frosted glass and a grand chandelier that gave off light and sparkled even as it dimmed.
The God himself sat on a large high-backed chair in a gunmetal gray iron that swirled and speared up like some sort of torture device rather than comfortable seating. When one of the Tovenaars who served in his household led us in, he eyed us before his face settled into a smirk.
Over the arm of the chair he held a large crystal goblet full of a deep red liquid he swirled every so often before bringing it up to his lips for a sip.
But still he did not speak. He held out his cup, and a Tovenaar walked forward to refill it with the dark liquid. He nodded at her and with the carafe in hand, she bowed, giving us all a strange look as she walked out the room.
“Interesting, I presume?” Zeevar finally asked, and I started, thinking he was addressing her but then seeing him looking at Hollis.
Hollis smiled and gave Zeevar a shallow bow. “Beauty is my job,” he answered with a shrug.
“Yes, you are a most well-versed connoisseur of beauty, are you not? We are all here because of your eye for beauty.” He chuckled, taking another sip from his goblet.
“Father Zee-” Char started, but the God raised his hand, silencing him.
“The last time I was in a room with the five of you, you were desperate. So desperate to prove to us you were the best match for that infuriating woman. Tell me, has she been worth it?”
“She is the making and breaking of us,” Shep said softly, his voice cracking as if he might break. I wanted to wrap him in my arms, but the knowledge of the last thing I said to him prevented it. I’d blamed for losing Mireyah, when Hollis had been right. He’d suffered just as much, if not more, than we did.
“Indeed, and here you are before me yet again. I’d hoped you would come, though I questioned that you were brave enough to barge into my home. Would you all like a drink? The wine is pleasant and intoxicating today.”
"We demand to see, Mireyah," I spoke even as Char threw me an angry look over his shoulder. Zeevar shot me an incredulous smile before throwing back his head and laughing. A deep, almost menacing sound that felt like electricity coursing through me.
“I was there when you took her. Watched her disappear without an answer to why she was being taken.” Shep leaned against Tate, who had walked forward to support him.
I felt impotent - that it had to be my brother to comfort when I couldn’t.
"And so you were." Zeevar nodded.
“Will you tell us where she is?” Char asked with a low, respectful bow - his ambitions rearing its ugly head. Diplomatic where I was certain he would rather make demands.
“She is safe. Your Mireyah is now a part of a higher purpose, and another has marked her besides all of you.”
Shep was shaking as Tate rubbed his arm up and down. “She was unconscious when they carried her away. Pale. So pale.”
“Yes. But she is safe now and well.”
"And how can we be sure?" Shep questioned even as Char raised an arm to keep him back.
Our Vide would be very displeased with us.
"Because it is as I say. My patience only goes so far - don’t presume to question my proclamations." Zeevar stood from his seat and took a step towards us.
Char immediately sank to a lower bow. “Our apologies, Zeevar.”
"Your ambition is great, Charolais of House Vide. But may I suggest that you teach your men the value of delicacy in the future.” He tapped Char’s shoulder softly, and the Vide rose to stand. “But I must insist you all leave. I grow weary of this conversation.”
A group of guards walked in from a door to the right to escort us out.
Zeevar turned around, speaking as he did so. "I pity you, you lovesick fools. So I send you off knowing that the woman you profess to love and care for so greatly will be returned to you in due time. But a warning. When she does, she will be whole and she will be well. But don't expect her to be the same Goddess you brought to Demiorgo. For that would be a f
oolish hope indeed."
And we walked out of the grand house in silence. With more questions than when we first arrived.
Six
Mireyah
My head was heavy, like Ryle had somehow mistaken it for a chair and sat on it - the pressure so great I feared my ability to breathe. My legs felt like they'd been cast in concrete as I struggled to move. It was difficult as pain bloomed in my chest, sharp and great.
And impossible.
When I'd undergone the ritual with the Bytas that first day I arrived in Demiorgo, it had been with an intrinsic knowledge that my mortality bled away. So I accepted it even as I fell into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I’d been a Goddess with strength in an exponential amount to what it had been when I’d been a Sylfe.
I reached out with my right hand to touch my left wrist. I knew my tattoos were there, but touching them brought nothing to mind - no enveloping warmth, no bright light full of joy and love.
Where were my men?
I tried to call out to them, but something else swirled inside me - welcome but unfamiliar.
Genuine panic stabbed through the physical pain when I realized I only felt that unfamiliar sensation, and my men were nowhere close. I knew they would never leave me alone for any lengthy period, so there was something wrong.
The mattress I laid on felt soft as I pushed against it with my hands, struggling to get to a sitting position. “No, you mustn’t try to sit up just yet.” A soft, female voice spoke up, and footsteps scurried to rush over before a gentle hand touched my shoulder and pushed me back to a lying position.
“Can you open your eyes, dear?” the same voice asked kindly, and I brought my arm up to shield them as I allowed a low, dim light to filter through. It was enough of a glare that I only saw white and nothing else.
“The light hurts?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I only emitted a croaking sound instead of an answer. I nodded to answer instead and closed my eyes again. The glare made my head pound.
“All to be expected. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” Footsteps trailed away, and idly I wondered where the woman expected I would go. I was so helpless I doubted I could have gone far if I tried.
