by Meagan Hurst
“They are not all innocent and I am not trading their lives. Nivaradros will attack them regardless; this allows the fatalities to be lessened.”
“I don’t approve.”
“And I don’t approve of your actions here. Nor do I enjoy being involved. I am a Ranger, Baryaris. I don’t like handing over people to death any more than you do, and yet you have forced me to play the game. If you don’t want me to be here, I will take my leave, but you won’t get what you want. You know this. Why don’t you stop standing in my way and let me do my job!”
Breaking away from him, she shattered the shield he had thrown up and stalked back over to the waiting Dragon. The waiting, seething Dragon. “Sorry,” she told him in a huff.
Nivaradros snorted but glanced at Baryaris. “Your reply?”
The original de la Nepioa glanced at him with anger in his eyes, but he inclined his head. “I agree to her proposal as well.”
“Good.”
Nivaradros reacted without warning. Z had to twist her body to the side and throw herself out of the way to avoid being struck. Baryaris remained where he was. Holding herself ridged, she watched as Nivaradros taunted his prey. He could have killed Baryaris on the first strike, but he was frustrated, and it was apparent Nivaradros intended to take out his frustrations on the human before him. The Dragon used his talons to shred Baryaris and took his time doing so. Blood flowed from long chest wounds that were deep enough to weaken the Ranger but not deep enough to kill him.
The world around them seemed to be holding its breath, and Nivaradros continued to methodically wound Baryaris while she forced herself to remain neutral. To his credit, Baryaris never let a sound escape from his lips. Twenty minutes later, Nivaradros was still toying with his victim and Z was struggling to stay silent. This side of the Dragon no longer existed in her time, but being here and involved in this so soon after the deaths of her Ranger Council wasn’t something she was strong enough to handle. Hating Baryaris and Nivaradros both on the same level, Z closed her eyes and reminded herself this was part of the past, and a part she could not interfere with.
Ten minutes following that, she had had enough. “Nivaradros,” she called out in a low voice. She didn’t expect him to respond, but his neck drew back from his prey, and he regarded her for a second before lashing out one final time with his talons.
Baryaris died at once from the strike, but the Rangers felt his death, and the pain that flared through her amulet struck her hard. The anger that followed was worse. Her Rangers knew how to rate their emotions through the amulets. They knew how to hide things, how to shelter their thoughts, how to minimize what was exposed; these Rangers did not. She hadn’t taken that into consideration, and the instant they felt the loss of their leader, their thoughts and emotions bombarded her. Baryaris had been able to hide the attack from them until his death, but his demise wasn’t something that could be blocked. Yet.
“I would say you were being attacked, but I am not sensing anything, and I admit I am doubtful you would be that unguarded.”
Nivaradros approached her and she ignored him. If he chose to kill her, she’d consider it a blessing. She tried to communicate with the Rangers, but it was like attempting to hold off a tidal wave with her hands. She felt one of the Dragon’s wings touch her, and she forced herself not to snap at him. She had to remind herself that this was not her Nivaradros, and that they didn’t have their history together here.
“What?” she demanded.
“I assumed you would handle this better. What is the problem?” There was a hint of rage in that tone and Z cursed Dragons, long-dead Rangers, and time-traveling in the privacy of her mind.
“You just murdered my great-grandfather and the Rangers know. I am trying to get them to shut up, so I can explain to them what is going on.”
“I am not certain I follow. Explain to me how you are communicating.”
“The amulet. It’s old forgotten magic the Rangers uncovered.” She opened her eyes and found the Dragon’s eye was inches from her own. Biting back another curse, she lifted the amulet for him to see. “Don’t touch it,” she advised. “But this is how you can tell a Ranger from a non-Ranger. We all have these; offspring wear a copy of their parents’ until they earn their own. They work as a link between all of us. No matter the world or the distance, we can always communicate.”
“Even worlds with no magic?”
“That I would have to test.” She managed a bitter smile and moved to stand. Having gotten nowhere by trying to talk to the Rangers, she shut down her end of the link. She would explain things to them when she got back. With the body. Recalling how well this had gone last time, Z moved around Nivaradros’s bulk to the side of Baryaris.
It had been a clean hit to his heart that had killed him. Blood stained his clothes, and he looked like he had been tortured. But it didn’t appear to be by a Dragon. Now she understood Nivaradros’s actions. It looked like Baryaris had been tortured to death by humans. Kneeling next to the man whose blood had stopped flowing, she glanced up to find Nivaradros’s attention was fixed on her.
“Thank you,” she whispered despite the fact she hated his current actions.
“Be careful on your way back,” was the Dragon’s reply. He sounded confused. She didn’t blame him. “The creatures you battled the other day are in this area, and there are humans around as well.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Z grumbled as she eyed the body on the ground before her. This was going to be an awkward carry. Baryaris was taller than she was and dead weight would hinder her further. Closing his eyes out of respect and the knowledge that failing to do so would concern and upset the already inconsolable Rangers, she lifted him with care and magic, and turned away from the Dragon.
The first hour back went well enough. Baryaris’s blood began to dry on his clothes, and on hers, but her magic and strength allowed her to keep moving. As time passed though, Z struggled to continue to balance her grip and her magic. Muttering under her breath about the lack of planning—hers—that had led to this, Z kept checking her surroundings for trouble. There was a small group of the creatures up ahead, but they were heading north and would be out of the way by the time she reached them. Unless they smelled the blood that covered her.
But from what she could tell, she would be crossing paths with a Tenian patrol, and the fact that they were out here made her wonder what Baryaris had neglected to warn her. In the end, she decided to just keep moving. The closer she got to Arriandri the closer help would be if she was ambushed. She kept her mind on the patrol though and debated dropping them into a pit when she discovered they were still approaching.
But their demise would not aid her, and Z felt a lack of interest in shedding more blood, so she stilled the urge to deal with them and continued walking with her burden. Unfortunately, the patrol continued their course, and forty-five minutes later she found herself face-to-face with an armed Tenian patrol that numbered fifteen strong.
Whispers went around, and she found herself surrounded. Drawing herself up, she glared at them, and tightened her hands around Baryaris’s body without intending to “Can I help you morons?” she demanded.
“The body you carry, does it belong to the so-called Baryaris de la Nepioa?”
And she knew why they were in the area. “It does,” she confirmed. “But you cannot have it.”
Swords were drawn, and Z felt small sparks—laughable sparks—of magic flare to life. She preferred to avoid a fight if she could. Death had cloaked the world far too frequently within the past few days, and if she engaged the Tenians, there would be even more. Sending a warning out to the Rangers, she let them know Baryaris had been murdered by Tenians and now she was surrounded by the rest of the group. The response she received was encouraging, but as the Rangers were still over an hour from her location, their aid would be limited.
She set Baryaris’s body on the ground and then moved with caution while she evaluated the patrol. They were overconfiden
t because she was a woman, but they also carried themselves well enough to hint that they were trained. Still, she took the time to evaluate what she was facing. The guy on the left was too heavy on his feet. The guy on his right was projecting his next moves. The others were more of the same, and Z hid a smile.
“You’re making a mistake,” she warned them as they spread out to surround her.
“No, you are,” the man who had ordered her to surrender Baryaris’s body said.
“Suit yourself,” she told him with an easy smile before kicking the man who was trying to sneak up behind her in the knee. There was a satisfying pop, and she grabbed his arms to throw him into the group rushing her.
She didn’t draw a weapon because she didn’t think she needed to. Using kicks and punches to keep at bay the few men who rushed her, she kept an eye on the body of the man she wanted to protect. As she continued to fight, her senses began to detect a problem; Midestol’s forces were nearby and approaching. There were fifty of them and she couldn’t handle sixty-five opponents. She was managing to handle the fifteen because only two or three of them attacked at a time. Hoping Midestol’s forces would go away, but knowing they would not, she continued to fight with the desperation of someone trying to flee. She did not want a three way battle.
Things weren’t in her favor. A sharp whistle came from her left, and the surrounding area became more crowded. Midestol’s warriors were heavily armed, and twenty of them had enough power to make her wary. They were staring at her in the way she was used to, but familiarity never made it any better. She was tempted to throw them off their game by speaking to them in their own language but, given the circumstances, she decided to use wisdom.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The speaker was wearing a familiar ring, and Z tried to keep her gaze from it. It was still around—the ring anyway—and it was worn by another man in her time. The ring marked the speaker as Midestol’s second-in-command. Her day was going to continue to get worse. When this was over, provided she survived, she was going straight home.
No one answered the new speaker, and he scanned the area a second time. Since a good portion of the Tenians were on the ground bleeding, she wasn’t surprised to see his eyes narrow and return to her with suspicion. This time she couldn’t help it.
“If you’re hoping I will magically shift into a man, you’re going to be disappointed.”
The man snorted and turned his attention to the Tenians. “How about we make a bargain? You keep your lives, and we take the girl.”
The Tenian leader glanced up and spat a mouthful of blood on the ground. “We get the body, but you can have the bitch.”
“Body?” Midestol’s high ranking warrior glanced over at Baryaris’s body and snorted. “Deal,” he said with a smile. “Now if the rest of you would just stand back, we’ll handle it from here.”
Z glanced at the group and considered her odds. It wasn’t impossible, but everything would have to go flawlessly. That, and she’d have to use magic. She shifted her weight and felt her shirt pull on one side. Glancing down, she grimaced as she saw a line of red. She didn’t remember the wound. Her attention moved back to Baryaris’s body and she wanted to scream. She hadn’t come here to get involved in things; she had come here to get uninvolved. Surrendering wasn’t an option. Help wouldn’t arrive in time. And she had a feeling that trying to fight her way out wouldn’t end well.
“Going to give up?” Midestol’s warrior asked in a tone that she assumed was meant to be seductive. She glanced at him and considered it, but before she could accept his offer, she got a very light and muted touch on her senses as the man burst into flames.
Chapter 25
Z ducked as more of those surrounding her began to go up in flames. The stench of burning flesh was strong and multiple screams emerged and blended together. Taking her chance while she had it, Z leapt and rolled to Baryaris’s body, grabbed it, and began moving away from the attack zone. Two people tried to follow her, but once more flames appeared to stop them, and Z hastily backed up, keeping an eye out for any more attacks.
The screaming continued with voices dropping off every so often, but a loud thud behind her caused her to whirl. Shifting Baryaris to one arm and increasing the magic she used to carry him, she grabbed Kyi’rinn and pointed it at…Nivaradros. His eyes were burning neon, but he didn’t seem offended by the sword.
“You’re wounded,” the Dragon rumbled. “Come, it’s not safe here. There are other patrols in the area.” He knelt and she stared at him in amazement.
“I would rather you didn’t feel like a mount,” she began.
“I do not consider offering you a ride the same as becoming an animal used for transportation or work. I don’t mind,” he added as his eyes darkened a few shades. “You’re wounded and, since you insist on carrying around that body, you’re at a disadvantage.”
She laughed, forcing her nerves aside, before she lifted Baryaris’s body onto the Dragon’s back. Pulling herself upon his back as well, she found the usual place she chose when riding the Dragons. As she’d survived all previous flights, it seemed to be a safe enough seat.
“I’m good,” she told him as she leaned against his back and closed her eyes. She held on to Baryaris, but otherwise she gave very little thought into where they were going. She felt Nivaradros take off and listened to the sound of the whistling wind without concern. Nivaradros, even now, was an expert flyer. There was little that could endanger them in the air. The feeling of flying sent a small amount of guilt through her heart, though. Nivaradros was forbidden the skies in her time. He still maintained that he didn’t miss it, but how could he not? It was what his race was born for, and he had surrendered his wings for a form he hated.
It seemed like a very short time later when Nivaradros dipped down from the sky. It was a sharp dive and the sound of water became overpowering as they landed. It was like a roar and she wondered why the Dragon had picked a spot so close to a waterfall. A second later she got hit with what felt like half a mountainside of water and then they were in the clear. The water fell suspiciously silent.
“You alive up there?”
She wanted to respond, but instead she managed to say nothing. In fact, she was starting not to feel anything either. Forcing her eyes open, she found herself staring into neon green ones that were not Dragon sized. Nivaradros was kneeling beside her and he was in his lesser form. He looked almost the same as he did in her time, but it was obvious he was younger, and there was a softer look in his eyes. His skin showed fewer scars than the Nivaradros she knew. Confused and alarmed, she began to sit up, but the Dragon placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to lie back down. His touch, however, was gentle.
“That would be a bad idea,” he warned. “That blade you were wounded by? It was treated with Keniss. If you were mortal it wouldn’t matter, but since you are not, I am certain your health has been compromised.” His human seeming features were worried, and he brushed her hair away from her eyes. She was going to have to get that cut again at some point.
Keniss. One of the very few poisons mortals were immune to that had lasting damage on immortals. It was dangerous enough that it could kill immortals in very short time if they weren’t strong enough to survive it. It was also one of the poisons she had never bothered to train against; why trouble herself with a poison that only harms immortals? Now, though, she was beginning to realize her oversight. Nivaradros was holding a cloth to the wound and he’d moved her clothing to make that possible. Her vision was still strong, which was good, but her thoughts wandered, which was not.
“How bad?” she managed to ask as she once again made the attempt to stand up and was thwarted by the Dragon. As he was always going to win a battle of brute force, she couldn’t decide how weak she was. Struggling to hold onto her sense of self, she also fought to focus on Nivaradros’s words.
“The wound is severe. You’re immortal, which makes you susceptible to Keniss, but you’re also human,
which means the poison runs through your veins with speed. On top of that, you didn’t tell me you were injured by a treated blade, so you’ve been carrying the poison for at least an hour with me, and for an unknown time prior.” Nivaradros scowled, but his eyes revealed his fear.
He was so similar to the Dragon she knew, but here he felt more open and, somehow, he seemed kinder and more interested in her condition that she would have expected. She wondered what had happened to make him attempt to kill her so many times when they had first met—well when she had first met him. If this had happened in his past—and it must have—then Nivaradros had met her long before she had even been born.
She forced her eyes to focus on the wound and grimaced. It was deep and when she switched her vision, she could see the thin outline of poison the blade had left around the edges. Wonderful. How many years had she managed to go without falling prey to a poison? If she survived this, she was going to have to recheck her immunity to all of them but focus on the eighteen she had skipped. It was better to alleviate the hole in her previous training than to hope she never ran into those poisons.
She glanced around the cave in surprise. This was not Nivaradros’s lair, and it wasn’t the cave he had taken her to last time. It was near Arriandri. Making yet another futile attempt to sit up, Z found the Dragon caught her once her back managed to clear the floor. For a minute, their gazes locked, and Z caught her breath as the attraction she had to Nivaradros in her time surfaced. He was close enough to kiss. It took everything in her power to keep from acting on that impulse. This was not her Nivaradros and she was certain she was reacting this way because of the poison in her veins. But it was reassuring as well. If she was attracted to Nivaradros here, in another time, even if it was augmented by the poison in her veins, then any doubts she had about their relationship were folly.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
