“Hold still! They don’t even hurt you, you’re so transparent.”
Before she could pick up another missile, Ardan spoke, “What can I do for you, my queen?” Watching the her abuse the boys was difficult. It brought up too many complicated emotions of love and hate and envy.
“It’s a disaster. An utter disaster.” Maeve scooped up another sparkling piece of ice. Before he could respond, it sailed through the air, this time streaking directly through the king’s middle, before crashing against the wall. “Got you!” The queen did a little victory dance.
He wished he could just leave. She obviously was looking for a whipping boy and it wouldn’t be him. While she didn’t enjoy whipping him with the sexual frenzy she used to, she still had a tongue of steel, but without the sex, it just wasn’t as much fun for him as it used to be. He missed the pain/pleasure of their relationship. Now, it seemed, all he ever got was the pain.
And while it was good, it wasn’t the same. Lately, it just made him sad, and then angry. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Did he want his freedom? Did he want her love? Neither was possible so he was left with this anger that churned in his belly like a sickness.
She turned her ice bright gaze to him. Even now, he quivered with anticipation, hating her for the useless conditioning that made him want to please her.
“Bosco’s army is getting closer. While he can’t portal in this close because of my defenses, he’ll still be here in days, and my secret weapon is a disaster.”
“I thought the dragon was your secret weapon?”
“He’s not a secret. Everyone knows I have him, even Bosco.” She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s the way to control the dragon that’s falling apart. I need that dragon tamed, or else I’ll have to face the army with just you and my guards.”
Ardan stiffened. “I’ve been working them night and day. We’re ready, my queen.”
She snorted. “I’ve no doubt you’re doing your best, but I didn’t pick any of you for your size or fortitude. No, when you create an army out of sex slaves, even when you gift them with extra power, you don’t get the same thing as what’s coming our way. True power, born and bred and trained. Bosco has made an alliance with Prince Kian. Do you know what that means?”
“My queen, we’re not boys anymore. We’ll take up arms for you. We’d all die for you.”
She came across the room and slid her hand along his face. “Of course you would, my dear, but still you’ll die. And then it will be me against an army. And while I’m strong, I’ll have to drain every ounce of power from the ice to defend myself if Prince Kian comes here.”
Need shot through him at her touch, followed fast by disgust at his own vulnerability. He’d just told her he was a man, but she unmanned him simply by stroking his skin.
She stepped away and he felt the loss of her presence. “We need the dragon. And we need him controllable. That’s why I called you.”
“What can I do. I’ll do anything.”
She laughed, complete confidence in her power over him lighting up her eyes.
“You can get them to work and fix the damn thing! It should have been easy, but no. The crafters complain of the metal burning their hands, even through the protective gear. And they say their magic is wonky. The metal or something is screwing with it.”
“But I’m the captain of the guards, not a crafter. You need me to keep the army in shape.”
“I can get any buffoon to do that. I need you to manage the artisans.”
“How?”
“Threaten them. Hurt them. Kill them one by one, if you have to. I don’t care. Just get the damn thing built.”
He sank to one knee. “Yes, my queen.”
“There’s my good boy. I knew you were still mine. Unlike that poor slob.” She picked up an ice sculpture, and before Ardan could move, she threw it. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.” She swept past the quivering ghost of the king and the splinters of wet ice splatted on the wall behind him.
Ardan scrambled to open the door. She didn’t want him, but she’d never let him go—he was too useful. The thought was as bitter as ashes in his mouth.
They walked out of the main palace building into the rest of the complex. The queen hadn’t stopped building since he’d been here. He’d watched the Winter Palace grow from a single large building to a sprawling mass of glittering ice with barracks, stables, and acres of gardens. And a high wall surrounding it all, like the wall that surrounded the ice queen’s heart.
The northern tower was the latest installation, only finished late last year. The tower was over a hundred feet tall and just as wide. Its bulk hunkered down over its corner of the wall, sucking in resources like a giant, sulking child gathering all the blocks in the playground so no one else could have them. For the last few weeks full carts had gone in and only empty ones had come out. Even as captain of the guard, Ardan had never been allowed in. He posted the watch and that was all.
Now, as he passed his men and women guarding the squat pillars straddling the wide barred doors, he wished he wasn’t entering now. Inside, there was an air of doom. The air itself in here felt heavy and weakening. As he and the queen passed by, men and women dropped to their knees, the despair in their faces sending his skin twitching.
What was she doing in here? Why did everyone they pass look grey and pasty, like they were wasting away inside the tower’s walls?
Deeper and deeper the queen led him until they were in the center of the tower. A shrunken old man led them into the last room.
“They’ve been kept safe for ye, my lady.” He shuffled to the door and extracted a key.
The queen barely nodded at him, waiting while he unlocked the door and led them inside.
In the center of the room was a large pile of gleaming white bones. Each one gleamed with a magical incandescence that lit up the gloomy atmosphere, causing even the disturbing heaviness of the tower to appear lighter in their presence.
“Are those—?” He pointed in fascinated horror at the piles of bones.
Maeve nodded. “Dragon bones.” She led him closer. On the wide rough planked table in the corner the bones had been carved into links and joined together in a chain.
“There must be enough bones to make five dragons. Where did you get them? ” He’d never seen another dragon besides Atavantador.
“Never you mind where I got them. What’s important is that they need to be fused with what’s inside there.” She pointed at the far wall. “Only that will make them strong enough to hold the dragon. No one’s been successful so far.”
The wall was shielded in silver paneling, more than he’d seen anywhere but the royal treasury. And it wasn’t just painted but layer after layer lay on the wall and the door. And even so, despite the silver’s clean white magic, whatever was inside had left a brooding toxic sheen dripping down its shiny surface.
The queen smiled sweetly at him. “And now, my love, I’ll leave you to it.” She blew him a kiss and left, moving out of the tower at twice the speed they’d entered, fleeing whatever was in that room.
He approached the door with caution. Whatever was in there was the source of the miasma in the tower. The reason everyone here seemed sick. And the one thing he’d ever seen the queen truly scared of. He gestured to the wilting crafter who stood waiting to show him what was inside. “Open it.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir, you’d want to shield fore we open it.”
Ardan pulled the strongest shields he could muster and nodded. The old man grimaced, opening the door. A rush of air came out, carrying a tang that had him flinching despite his shields.
Iron. The queen had brought in piles of iron.
Lethal to elvatians, to magic, and, in large doses, even to Underhill itself. No matter how she’d shielded it with the silver, it was weakening everyone in the tower. And now it was his job to get these poor slobs to fuse it with the dragon’s bones that, even dead, held so much pure magic, they glowed.
He star
ed at the sullen black metal, his heart sinking with the weight of dread.
Did she want him to succeed? Or did she expect him to fail?
Chapter Nineteen
As soon as her hand hit the dragon’s door, Siobhan regretted knocking.
“Enter.” A large male voice boomed out, shaking the heavy wood of the door and vibrating the skin of her knuckles.
Damn. Atavantador was in there. Now that she’d knocked, she had to go in, but what in Danu’s well would she say? She hadn’t thought beyond finding Doyle. Hadn’t considered what excuse to give for why she needed him. She couldn’t very well say what she really was there for—that she wanted to run her hands over his skin, feel his mouth against hers, taste the heat brewing between them.
“Well?”
Still not knowing what to say, she pushed down on the latch and gave the door a big push. Its ancient hinges creaked, and it swung open, revealing the Aladdin’s cave covered in what must be a country’s ransom of treasure. But this time, seated upon the piles of coins and jewels, was a very awake dragon staring straight at her.
He was much bigger than she remembered, his head was the size of a young polar bear, but his white scales glinted with blue and his claws were huge. She hadn’t realized until she looked at him that she’d gotten used to Doyle’s eyes, but seeing Atavantador’s large cat slit pupils surrounded by scales gave her a jolt.
It was almost as if Doyle himself was looking at her from inside the great beast.
“Did you need something?” He tapped a single sharp claw, the size of an ice cutter’s blade on a pile of coins, sending them sliding to the bottom of the pile.
Siobhan swallowed hard. Why oh why hadn’t she thought before knocking? “Well, don’t just stand there.” The dragon arched a brow ridge. “Come in and speak your mind. I’m very busy right now.”
Busy doing what? Counting his riches? Before she said what she thought and accidentally got herself eaten, she dropped her gaze to the glittering floor and edged into the room. She stayed pressed against the cavern wall, letting the cold rough rock keep her steady. “I was looking for Doyle, your lordship. Sir.”
“He’s not here.”
“I can see that. Thank you.” Shaking with relief, she turned to go. She was reaching for the door, her fingertips skimming the latch, when he spoke.
“What did you want him for?”
“Nothing,” she whispered.
“Speak up! What did you say?”
“N...n...nothing, your lordship.” She had no idea how to address him. It hadn’t come up in her conversations with Doyle. In fact, she’d been relieved not to talk about the fact that Atavantador lived just down the hall and was technically the lord over both of them.
“Nothing?” The dragon snorted. “It must have been something. You haven’t poked your nose in here in a fortnight.” He snaked his neck out, and suddenly his large head, was eye to eye with hers. “Well?”
Her palms dampened with cold sweat.
What could she say? That after the day she’d had she felt lost and alone and wanted comforting? That she wanted to confront Doyle about his leaving just when things were heating up? That without him, her room seemed empty and cold?
“I...I was wondering if there’s a way to practice my power to control a portal without opening one?” The words fell out before she’d thought to stop them. Damn her tongue!
She wanted to do nothing of the sort. Every tiny bit of her said to run from the predator whose huge jaw could devour her in one bite, but she forced her body to stay. It was too late. She couldn’t leave now.
“Interesting. Let me think.” He wrinkled his brow.
Danu save her. Now she’d done it. He was intrigued. She’d drawn the attention of the beast and only the goddess knew where that would lead.
“Yes, I think there might be a way.” He moved, faster than his bulk would lead her to think he could, and headed for the far side of the cave. His head swiveled back to pin her with his searing gaze. “Well? Are you coming?”
“Yes. I’m coming.” She struggled across the slippery pile of gold and silver and copper, the coins slipping and sliding from beneath her feet. How did he move so fast across it? He was much bigger and heavier than her. He should have sunk. The dragon led her around a partial wall to a second section of the cavern that she hadn’t been able to see before. It was nearly as large as the other section, but here, there was no treasure. Instead, the floor was flat and swept bare.
“We’ll work here.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to create a shield bubble. Young dragons use them to practice advanced magics.”
She didn’t even see him do it. One minute the area in front of them was empty, the next, a large translucent ball nearly the size of two giant moose appeared.
Atavantador sat back on his haunches. “Now, open the portal.”
“Inside? I’m not strong enough to control where it lands. It could end up anywhere.” The cavern had seemed huge, but the idea of opening up to the hungry mists in what now seemed like a very small space, was horrific.
“You open it. I’ll make sure it stays inside the force field.”
Inside, she was feverish, the embarrassed heat of failure already claiming her body. But outside, her skin was chilled and clammy, leaving her feeling hot and cold at the same time. “I can’t do this.”
“You’ve opened one before.”
“Doyle helped me open the other one. I didn’t do it by myself. And it was a disaster.”
“You can do this. Just do what you did before. I’ll keep you safe. After all, you are in my charge.”
He blinked his cat’s eyes at her, seeming completely calm. Strangely, it reassured her. If he wasn’t worried, maybe she shouldn’t be. He was the most powerful being she’d ever been around. If he couldn’t help her do this, who could?
She gathered her Gift.
Last time Doyle had fed her energy. This time she drew on the tiny dragon embedded at the top of her spine. The rush of power wasn’t as strange as the first few times she’d tried it, but it definitely felt different from her own, burning the channels of her magic like hot ice candy in her mouth. Not bad, just really, really different.
It was now or never.
She took the power in her metaphysical hands and reached into time and space.
There was a crackling surge, and the hair on her body raised. A portal appeared, its mists coiling and uncoiling beyond the open door but all of it safely inside the dragon’s sphere.
“I did it!” she squealed. Then, mindful of who her tutor was, she got control of her voice. “I did it. I really did it.”
“Very good.” His lips pulling back and revealing two rows of sharp teeth in a hugely proud smile.
She flinched back but held her magic firm.
“Step one, complete. Now let the mists out of the portal.”
“Are you insane? You want me to let that out into our world?” The mists roiled behind the artificial wall of the portal’s door. Inside, she could make out gibbering faces and reaching hands. She shuddered. “No. I can’t. They’re the horrible on their own side of the universe. I can’t let them into ours.”
“Opening the portal is easy. Riding the mists is the difficult skill to master. You can’t enter a portal without mastering both your shielding and the mists. You can practice shielding on your own, that’s easy. But the mists? Unless you control them, they’ll control you.” He shifted on his haunches and his voice boomed, echoing off of the cave’s walls. “Now, let them out.”
She tested the portal, discovering a barrier she didn’t even know she’d erected. “Are you sure?” It acted like a permeable piece of glass, blocking the open portal door and keeping the mists inside, but letting travelers through.
“Don’t you trust me?”
He was a dragon, not someone to trust, but even he wouldn’t let the portal mists out in his own chambers. Would he?
“Do it no
w. Before you lose your confidence.”
She shook off her doubts and let the barrier drop. Fingers of mist snaked out, reaching and hungry—and heading straight for her.
Siobhan flinched away. The mists rushed out of the portal and hit the edge of Atavantador’s bubble, recoiling back. But there was nowhere else to go. More grey fog, filled with nightmare images rushed out. The cave thundered with the sound and rush of wind. Distorted eyeless faces pressed up against the sphere, filling it, their mouths and grasping hands pressing against the skin.
The surface of the bubble sparked, crackling with blinding white light at each touch of the mist. “Now what?” she shouted over the cacophony.
“Put it all back,” the dragon boomed.
“I failed last time.” She’d come here seeking the comfort of a warm body. Instead she’d found the cold touch of fear.
“And you might fail this time. But how will you succeed if you don’t try?”
“What if I can’t?” The bubble shuddered with the pressure. What if it broke? What if she lost control and it got out, devouring her and the dragon both? She’d be lost forever in the void. The horror of the sickly grey mists reaching out and sucking her in, quivered across her skin.
“You can.”
She nodded, swallowing down the rise in the back of her throat, and reached for her Gift. It rushed to her aid, bolstered by the tingling dragon on the nape of her neck. Drawing on the combined powers she pushed the white light of her Gift at the bubble, penetrating the skin. The mist rushed for the hole. She flung more power at it and the grey stuff flinched back.
She used her power as if she had hands and the mist was a sticky dough. Pushing one side and then the other, it flowed out over her boundaries, only to fill the bubble again as soon as she left it to touch the other side.
A bead of sweat dropped into her eye. “It’s not working.”
“You’re almost there. Push it in. Do it!” Atavantador’s roar filled the cavern overriding the chaotic screams.
Siobhan gathered her own determination and skill, and pictured her power larger, enveloping the mists. She shoved the gathered mist in, her power holding at bay the press of hunger threatening to escape.
Caged: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 4) Page 12
