by Meagan Hurst
“I am kidding,” he told her before she could say the furious words that she had been fighting to hold back. “I know why you’re anxious to find out how things are, but I am not able to tell you what has been going on. The Shade was only barely willing to let me explain that yes, you were alive, before he went on a rampage about my lack of concern for you by vanishing for months while you lay here dying. In his opinion, I haven’t learned about sacrifices yet and I am a very, very selfish being.”
“You are not selfish,” she whispered as her eyes closed for a second to hide her anger at Crilyne.
“Oh, but I am. I am still a Dragon after all, but I will concede that he was incorrect at this time. I did everything I could to try and arrive earlier, but your nameless annoyance forbade it, and not even now am I at a high enough strength to challenge him.” He watched her for a moment before he sighed and stood as though his weight was a struggle to bear. Pulling off his robes—Z almost panicked before she realized he was still wearing pants—he turned to face her.
Panic was replaced with horror as Z took in his scars. They looked like thick spider webs in shape and they had merged with one another across his chest; they were also present on his back. The arrows had gone through his Dragon form, and she wondered how that had even occurred. She counted seven scars that were interwoven around each other at the edges. They were the angry red color of wounds that were still fresh enough to be painful, and they left very little unscarred skin visible on his chest—just a couple patches around his neck and shoulders. It looked like an army of spiders had built a nest across him, and the color was just incorrect.
“It’s something to look at,” Nivaradros agreed when she couldn’t find a word to say to him that didn’t sound foolish. “Yours will be impressive too, but I wasn’t allowed to come until my injuries had closed over with more than scabs.” He touched the ones where two of his hearts were. “These refused to close, until your nameless ally found out how close to death you were and then they closed overnight. He says he cannot do the same for your injuries. He wasn’t confident about sending me to your side this soon, as I believe the Shade caused him some concern about how you would react.”
Since it was Crilyne, Z was certain it was much more than just some concern. “Nivaradros…” she whispered as her eyes closed. Damn she was tired. She felt the tears start before she could try and keep them from surfacing, and a minute later Nivaradros was once again sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.
“This wasn’t your fault,” he reminded her as something—his hand—touched the side of her face. “Z—Zimliya, this was not your doing.” When she didn’t respond, she felt his hand on her right one and a second later she felt the risen lines of his scars beneath her fingertips. Flinching, she tried to pull her hand away, but Nivaradros wasn’t having it. “Did you fire those arrows?” he asked in a gentle tone.
“No,” she said in a slow exhale as she continued to keep her eyes closed. She felt his other hand on her face, and she realized she hadn’t once refused or resisted his touch. “If I hadn’t—”
“Enough,” he told her with an edge in his voice, a tone that was impossible to argue with. “Let it go. It was my choice and I am still alive. Let it go. If this was your fault, then it was my fault that you were injured.”
Well that got her attention. Her eyes snapped open in outrage and met a very smug looking Dragon. Glaring at him, she wiped her eyes as best she could on her shoulders since she still couldn’t lift her hands, and he had one of them anyway. Seeing he had won his point, Nivaradros lowered her hand, but leaned forward to kiss her as he did so. She didn’t even consider pulling away. Granted she probably couldn’t have if she had tried. There was nothing threatening about Nivaradros though. She wondered briefly when he had ceased to be even a minor concern to her senses, but since she approved of it, she didn’t attempt to discern what had changed.
Still, Nivaradros didn’t push his luck. It was a brief kiss and the Dragon watched her with an expressionless face when he released her and sat back. His eyes were the only hint she had into his unease.
“You should rest,” he said after a long and careful pause. “The Shade will be arriving soon. I invited him,” he added before she could ask, “because he was too busy accusing me of harming you to accept the fact that I hadn’t killed you accidently, or he just doesn’t want to believe me. He will probably be here on the morrow, so I would suggest you get some sleep.”
“I’m no longer a mortal, Nivaradros. I don’t require sleep,” she protested.
“Other than the fact you are still injured and you are limited in what you can do. Your mothering Shade is coming to check on you, and he would love to have a reason to kill me. Come now, Z, when you are able to do more, I will allow you to work on regaining your strength. At this moment, though, you are not in any condition to do much other than sleep, eat, and recover. Otherwise just resign yourself to being bored. I was in the same situation, and you will heal much faster if we don’t have to fight every step of the way.”
Yes, and if she would hurry up and heal she could hit the Shade, and him. Struggling to keep from surrendering to her exhaustion, fighting it since she still wanted to speak with Nivaradros, she inclined her head in agreement.
“Alright, fine,” she said heatedly. “I will resign myself to more sleeping.” Closing her eyes, she tried to quiet her mind since it was now more awake than it had been, and questions ran through her mind faster than water ran through cracks.
To her surprise, she felt the shift of weight that implied Nivaradros was willing to bore himself and watch her sleep. He once again pulled her close to keep her warm, and to further affirm that yes, he could still touch her, and yes, he had a great deal of control. But he stayed on top of the blankets, and he traced an unfamiliar rune on her forehead with his finger before she fell instantaneously into a dreamless, deep sleep. Or at least it started dreamless.
She knew where she was. Standing on the edge of a stone encased pond, Z regarded the glowing waters with unease. A noise behind her caught her attention and she turned, reaching for a dagger that was conveniently attached to her hip as she did so. A light preceded the being arriving out of the tunnel that led to this place, and considering where she was, Z was unsurprised to see who did emerge. The Mithane, however, seemed shocked to see her.
“Zimliya,” he greeted her as he smoothed out his features. “You awaken at long last, and more importantly, you live.” He regarded her with care, and Z glanced down at her chest in response to his pointed gaze. She had pants on, but she was lacking a shirt. She wasn’t, however, lacking the two inch thick bandages Nivaradros insisted on wrapping her with, so it wasn’t as much of a concern as it could have been.
Then again, this was the Mithane. She trusted him. “I live,” she agreed with a tired smile; glad she could stand here at least. “How do you fare? You do not look well, and it is not your power that holds this place.”
“No, Shevieck and I are still residing within the Syallibion lands. Zyrhis has been grateful for the company, I believe. He seems to be quite used to my son’s rather graceless antics, and I believe Shevieck distracts everyone from their fear of learning that after all this time you decided to leave us for good. I cannot reach the Arriandin, but I am still able to venture here. Unfortunately, much of my talent has been blocked regarding you as of late. I knew you had survived up to a point, but soon after Crilyne informed us he was no longer allowed to tend to you, my ability to see your possible fate was clouded over by some outside power.”
Well she knew who that was. “There was a reason for it I am sure,” she said without offering clarity. Her eyes took in his diminished stance. He’d lost weight since she’d last been conscious, and he just looked ill, though it was hard to pin down why. “You still haven’t recovered from trying to help me.”
“I will recover in time,” the Mithane said with a wave of his hand. “But tell me, your new caretaker, is he still alive?”
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nbsp; A smile touched her lips at his question. “Yes, because he is not new.” At the Mithane’s raised brow, her smile deepened and she shook her head. “It is Nivaradros.” Closing her eyes when a sense of joy overpowered her, she felt the Mithane’s reply rather than saw it. “He’s alive, and he’s been caring for me just fine, despite what I am certain Crilyne will say.” She opened her eyes and saw a relieved and content smile on the Mithane’s features.
“I am happy for you,” the Alantaion ruler told her as his eyes softened. “You deserved some good news and he deserves to have survived. I may not like him, but he cares for you, and what he is willing to do for you astonishes me.” She didn’t tell him what the Dragon had traded to stay with her; it wasn’t her place to tell him, and it wasn’t yet essential that he be informed. He watched her closely for a minute longer before shaking his head. “You’ll heal in time,” he assured her. “And I know you shouldn’t be here, standing, with your condition, but since Crilyne has been most uninformative since he was banished from the Dragon’s—your—lair, I thought this was possibly my only chance to speak with you, if you had awakened and were strong enough to respond to my call.”
Well she wasn’t, but the Dragon could lecture her on it later. “Crilyne seems to have been a pain to many,” she admitted with a scowl. “He refused to tell Nivaradros anything about the rest of the Alliance. How is the world doing, Mithane? How is… Shalion?”
“The world is still in existence. Midestol has been suspiciously quiet since your fall, and none of the humans we managed to convince to cross his borders and attempt to spy on him have returned. Kitra is sending some of the Rangers in—volunteers only—to see if they have better luck, or can, at least, get in and get out alive. The Islierre and Shalion are both still alive, but they are trying to reclaim their kingdom. They have asked for aid, and aid has been provided, but there is something sinister afoot. Troops have vanished without so much as a trace, which has caused the Islierre to pause in his attempt to regain control until we can figure out the reason behind the disappearances.”
“Sounds like a job that is best left to me.”
“Not until you have recovered,” the Mithane interjected with a tone that did not permit her to argue. “I am not going to be held responsible if you disappear. Shalion, however, has mostly healed from his disagreement with an arrow. I believe the credit of that belongs to you. It is a shame you could not have healed yourself, but perhaps if you had, Nivaradros wouldn’t have returned, and we need his strength on the field. Those bear-like creatures still hunt in the Syallibion forests and a few other parts of the world, but Veilantras has been sending adolescent Dragons to deal with them to test whether they would or would not be a benefit to the Dragon Council. Five have died so far, but they were not any great loss. Three who came to aid us I would rather have not survived, and four of them I happen to think will work out fine—they do not appear to have forgotten the fact that any of us could kill them at any time.”
Chuckling, Z nodded in agreement. “Many of the younger Dragons have forgotten that; you should see how they react to my merely mortal presence.”
“Merely human,” the Mithane corrected with a gentle smile. “You are no longer mortal.” His eyes ran over her form again. “You look worse than you did when you were in my care after your run-in with that creature. I don’t think I have ever seen you this thin before.”
“Nivaradros has been working on it. I’m in better shape than I was when he arrived. He doesn’t allow me to get away with not eating less than at least a plate now that I can stomach it.”
“He’s not feeding you too much too fast, is he?” the Mithane demanded as a sharp edge threatened to emerge.
“No, he is not. He just won’t let me stay a walking skeleton for any longer than he has to.” She closed her eyes for a minute as a wave of exhaustion hit her. “How is Dyiavea?”
The Mithane, however, had caught her exhaustion. “You should return and rest.” His eyes were gaining black as he seemed to recall—or choose to acknowledge—that she was injured and had no right to be here at all. “You’re exhausted, and I do not wish to send your recovery backwards, or to delay it in any manner, because I overtaxed you in my eagerness to see that you were in fact alive—and hadn’t killed the poor being that had received the task of looking after you.”
Words of protest formed and almost escaped, but she swallowed them at the last instant and bowed to the Mithane. She heard his hiss of anger at her motion, but she ignored it. “Promise me you’ll keep in touch?” she asked of him. “If something comes up you will send word?”
“I always do,” he pointed out, but his eyes scanned her form and injuries again. “Take care of yourself, Zimliya. And tell the Dragon I am grateful to learn he is still alive. You need him. He is the only being you’ve been willing to tolerate any sort of affection from—though we do need to work on how well you accept it—and he has changed in his pursuit of you.”
And he didn’t know the half of it. “I will take care of myself—or he will ensure I will. He’s still very protective, and right now I am far too weak to put up much of a fight. Crilyne’s coming to check up on me though—so here’s hoping they don’t bring the mountain down on our heads.”
The Mithane scowled. “Crilyne needs to accept that Nivaradros has stated unconditionally that you are now his and his alone, and he intends to both protect you and keep you away from everyone else when he so chooses. While I am not fond of the Dragon, Nivaradros is good for you, and I believe he will settle down even more with time and exposure to you.” A sly smile touched the Alantaion’s lips. “You’re not one for modesty when it comes to clothing, but I’m not sure where you stand in other instances. Are you going to tell me when the Dragon makes a move or will I have to discern it from the interactions between the two of you?”
She felt herself blush and she looked at the stone floor as though it was the only thing of interest in the room. And it was just a stone floor. “I should get going…” she stammered.
The Mithane’s laugh was musical, very amused, and a brief highlight to her recently dark days. “I guess I have my answer,” he mused before approaching her. Her dagger flashed briefly in the light that bounced off the water and onto the cave walls.
“I am not going to harm you,” the Mithane remarked in disgust as he reached her side. Reaching up to her forehead he traced a rune—and she recognized it as the rune Nivaradros had traced before she had fallen into her sleep. “Tell the Dragon I am in his debt for this meeting,” he told her, before she found herself pulled away from the room, from him, and from any possible chance of finding out what the hells that was supposed to mean? Had Nivaradros planned the meeting between her and the Mithane? The last thought she had before she slipped back into a deep sleep was that the Dragon was going to have to explain a few things when she woke up again.
Chapter 2
“—don’t you dare tell me I haven’t done a thing for her health!” Nivaradros snarled as she began to rise from both magic and sleep. The Dragon was stroking her back—taking pains to avoid her wounds—but she could feel the tension in the room and his anger. Crilyne had arrived. A moment later she felt the Shade’s presence in the room as her senses awoke and began to return to a portion of their former strength.
“Well of course you have, you’ve ruined it. You don’t deserve to be here, and you do not deserve her.” The frigid voice of the Shade was filled with scorn and Z struggled to wake.
After everything Nivaradros had gone through how could Crilyne blame the Dragon? She felt Nivaradros’s hand move to her forehead and a small ribbon of power surrounded her—asking her to stay silent by urging her to sleep once more. It wasn’t, however, forceful, so she knew it was the Dragon wanting to keep her from becoming involved; he didn’t want her to injure herself screaming at the Shade.
“I’ve ruined it?” Nivaradros retorted in a dangerous tone. His hand fell away from her, but he remained by her side. “She was skin and
bones when I arrived. She had an infection that was killing her, a fever that should have killed her, her wounds hadn’t even begun to close—in other words, she was dying. She hadn’t been conscious in the whole time you had tended to her, and since healing is not your strength, I am barely willing to overlook the fact you almost killed her, yet it is my fault she isn’t magically better? Do you have any idea how much work it took to bring her to this point?”
“Tending to humans isn’t your strong point either, Warlord.”
She wanted to stir, but once more Nivaradros touched her forehead and sent a touch of magic against hers. “No,” Nivaradros agreed. “It is not—or was not—I learned much in the time I was recovering. I knew I would be coming back to Zimliya weakened, but I also knew she was far weaker than I and would require care. I provided what I could, and she is improving.” Crilyne must have opened his mouth to protest because the Dragon’s words got a lot colder. “I was inviting you to visit as a sort of peace offering, Shade, but if you cannot accept it for what it is you are welcome to leave; I will help you vacate the premises if you try to force the issue.”
Crilyne snorted. “Oh great noble Dragon,” he sneered. “As if one good deed wipes your slate clean. You were a murderer, still are one, and you were someone who relished in the pain and suffering of others. You don’t deserve her!”
“I will agree with that,” Nivaradros remarked as his voice evened. Z struggled to stay awake as his magic grew more powerful; he was trying to push her into sleep. He either didn’t want her to hear something, or he figured the conversation would soon reach a point where she would be unable to resist joining in, and he sought to curb the possibility before it became unavoidable. “I do not deserve her. But in truth, Shade, there isn’t a single being in this world, or any world, that does. And in the end, it is her choice as to whom she awards her trust.”
