by Meagan Hurst
“Not until you’re able to stand and I feel secure enough in your wellbeing to risk your life on it. You are weak, Z. Since I know you from somewhere in my future, I am not about to let you perish while you are in my care. You are important to me, I can sense it, and I do not want to know your death happened because of my negligence.” He glanced at her side again. “I could…summon someone who knows how to treat this sort of injury.”
“Veilantras?”
“I’m starting to worry. How many of my kind have you had association with?”
She laughed and by some miracle managed to keep from offending him. “I like some of your kind,” she admitted as he snorted smoke. She did not, however, want to meet Veilantras here. She had a feeling that would set things off that weren’t meant to be. “I’ll recover in time, Nivaradros. I just need to get back to the Rangers.”
“There are no less than two thousand Tenians and five thousand of Midestol’s forces swarming the area. Pockets of your so-called Rangers have been fighting them with more success than I would have expected, but it is not safe, and I will not fly you back to Arriandri with the body.”
She glanced over at Baryaris’s form and blinked. “You shielded him?”
“He’s dead. I am not fond of the smell of decomposition. I therefore endeavored to ensure I am not forced to tolerate it. You have already proven unwilling to relinquish his remains; I felt it wise to make a choice where I would not have to force you to do so.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “Do you always have this effect on people?”
“Probably,” she told him with a laugh. Her thoughts sort of came together for a moment and she reached out for her amulet. This time there was no frantic or angry accusations; most were far too busy for them. Informing everyone she was alive and well—though that part was debatable—she warned them to stay inside the kingdom walls if they could avoid it.
“The quantity of blood you continue to shed is not comforting.”
“At this point that’s good news, the more it bleeds the more poison comes out from my veins.”
Snorting, Nivaradros gave her a dark look. “Due to your words, I believe the majority of the Keniss has escaped your body. You are fortunate—I feared for some time that you would perish when you failed to respond to my words or aid.” Which meant she had lost consciousness for a while. “You should consider sealing the wound before you bleed to death, your humanity is a curse in this regard.”
He was determined to remind her of that. Sighing, she nodded and glanced at him sidelong until he glared at her. “How open would you be to assisting me?” she asked. Nodding at the wound, she hesitated for a moment and then spoke in a rush. “As in would you be willing to seal that by burning it?”
Green eyes glanced at her without shifting shade before the Dragon spat a globe of fire into his hand and pressed it against the wound. There was a sizzling sound and a familiar smell, but as Nivaradros had been willing to help, she kept quiet until the Dragon stepped back and tilted his head to the side. The overlap of this Nivaradros and the one she knew was strange to experience.
“The wound is sealed,” he remarked, “but you were silent. That fire against your skin should have been painful enough to make you should scream, or at least thrash around.” Eyes began to brighten again, and Z held up a hand.
“You caught me, I cannot feel physical pain,” she admitted.
It was clear her words were not what Nivaradros had expected to hear. He blinked and pressed his lips together as he watched her. “You are unable to experience pain?” he wondered before sitting on the ground beside her. She had to remind herself just how young he was, but with his interest in her and his anger at the rest of the world she couldn’t understand how he could be so different.
“Physical pain. No, I am not going to explain how—you can find that out later.”
He didn’t argue and instead got up and left. She was certain he hit the side of the cave they were in and she winced at the thought of dealing with Dragon anger when she was still struggling to sit up. Nivaradros returned with a piece of the mountain he had just attacked still in his hand, and full of water. He had made a cup. Knowing how this would end if she refused what was offered, she thanked him and accepted the water. She was strong enough to hold it herself, but Nivaradros hovered—which implied this trait was a part of his personality. She wondered how he had managed to hide this from her for so long. One of the times in her distant past, when she had been wounded and turned to him for help, he had threatened to kill her, and she had almost died from her efforts to defend herself.
“It would be best if you remained here for another complete day,” Nivaradros told her. “Your immortality does not seem to lend you the security I would have expected. Unless death is an event that follows you often?”
“It’s been worse since the immortality,” she admitted. “I don’t know why…”
“I suspect you had no interest in becoming immortal, and because of that, you struggle to adjust to the changes that have occurred. You hate your immortality, don’t you?” His eyes held hers without judgment, but there was no room to lie to him, and she found she didn’t want to.
Sighing, she explained. To her surprise, Nivaradros listened with interest. He didn’t interrupt, although he did start a bit when she described more recent events—she kept out names, titles, and anything else she could without losing the story. He had a perfect memory; she couldn’t afford to let him know everything. But he was seeking something, and she felt like she owed him in exchange for his help. The water helped her feel stronger which warned her that the Dragon had done something to it, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t explain. He did, however, begin to offer her food he had found somewhere as she continued to talk. Knowing better than to refuse, she accepted the food and picked at it while she spoke.
“It is a challenge to change, yet, as you have, you must come to accept things,” Nivaradros told her when she fell silent. When she gave him a puzzled look, the Dragon sighed and gestured at his current form. “This is the first time I have worn this form, and while it is simple enough to make the shift, I dislike it and every time I move, I am reminded of the many differences there are between the form of my birth and this one. Based on the information you have offered, I believe you are holding back and it’s endangering you. Accept that you are an immortal—accept that you are no longer human, if it would help—and I believe your old strength will return with a kick. You are focusing too much on the differences, and it’s causing you to wait, doubt, and act late upon your instincts. If you don’t stop you will get yourself killed. I’ve seen your talent, it’s there, but you’re hiding it. You use it, but you also resist it. Stop fighting it, and I believe you will feel as if you are in control of your own movements again.”
And yet his own kind would spend millenniums trying to kill him. Z shook her head at the thought and offered Nivaradros a crooked smile. “Thinking too much, huh? I can believe that.” She checked the wound he had sealed for her and nodded. It would take some time before it would fade into a scar, but at least it was no longer bleeding.
“Do not aggravate it,” the Dragon chided as he batted her hands away. He was calmer, which told her she was probably looking less like she would drop dead on him. “Your eating habits are … curious,” he remarked as he stared at the mess she had made of the fruit.
“Sorry, but it’s hard to eat when I’m being bothered by a Dragon,” she told him in a mock serious tone.
Nivaradros’s laugh was a roar, but it was rich and filled with delight. Green eyes at their most relaxed, he eyed her when his laugher stopped and then nodded behind her. “There is a blanket if you wish. No one is likely to disturb you.”
“I don’t need sleep.”
“Ah, but you can still manage it, can you not? You’ve had a couple of years of difficulty. At least, I can presume it’s been years despite your attempts to be very, very vague. I believe sleep has become your way to heal at an accelerated pa
ce?” He offered her a dangerous smile. “I promise not to eat you.”
“I promise not to kill you if you try to attack me,” she countered. She did, however, grab the blanket and wrap it around herself. “I take it you feel I am out of danger from the Keniss.”
“Were you on your way to succumbing to it there would have been no progress in your recovery, and you would already have expired. As a poison it is one that moves through the system with speed.” Nivaradros hesitated before reaching out as though to touch her face. His hand, however, paused before it made contact and the Dragon shifted forms. “Goodnight, Z,” he said instead.
“Goodnight, Nivaradros.”
She did manage to sleep. It was a restless, poor, and broken sleep, but she couldn’t say she didn’t manage a couple of hours. Nivaradros seemed to beg to differ—she stabbed him when he made the attempt to awaken her when she hit one of her rougher patches. He did not, however, speak. Giving her the darkest look she had ever seen, he pulled the dagger free of his shoulder with his teeth. How he managed to dislodge something that small when his teeth were twice its size was beyond her, but he dropped it with disgust on her lap and left without so much as a mutter.
Taking this as a sign that she needed to rise, Z got up and grimaced at the feel of dried blood rubbing against her skin in multiple places. She stripped the shirt off and headed to the waterfall to remedy the problem, only to come face-to-face with the Dragon. Nivaradros stared at her—until his eyes found her lightning. She had forgotten about the lightning and it appeared he hadn’t noticed it the night before. Opening her mouth to explain, she struggled to find the words, but the Dragon surprised her by lifting a leg and pointing to the left with a talon.
“To wash you should use the small pool over there.”
He was gone before she could so much as thank him. Wondering if he was offended that she had stabbed him—wondering if he would hold that grudge until they met again—she headed in the direction he had advised. Her wet shirt felt much better against her skin and when she returned to the ‘main room’ of the cave she found Nivaradros was waiting for her. His eyes surprised her; they were still dark green, and he was once again in his lesser form. Interesting. If she had to guess, and she was a terrible guesser, she would have said he was also feeling the pull between them. Even though the amount of poison in her veins had diminished, she could still feel her attraction to Nivaradros.
“I believe it is safe enough for you to travel. Due to your injury and the enemy forces in the surrounding area, I would like to fly you closer to your destination. Though most of the effects of the Keniss should have subsided, you will not be able to fight at the height of your abilities, and…you are—” Nivaradros didn’t seem to be able to find the words. That was probably better for both of them.
Shocked, she managed a nod and moved to clean up the blanket he had loaned her. A blanket he shouldn’t have possessed. She wondered who it was for. Had Nivaradros ever previously cared for a mortal? Had they died? Knowing better than to ask this Nivaradros, she nevertheless turned back to him when she couldn’t find the blanket.
“I took care of it,” the Dragon remarked. “Come. It is not yet dawn, and it is the best time to fly if I don’t want your precious Rangers to attempt to decorate me with arrows.”
“I would shield you,” she told him as he returned to his native form.
“Would you?”
“Yes.” Her tone was icy but firm, and the taken aback look Nivaradros gave her let her know he believed her—though it was clear he didn’t know why.
“That aside, it would be safer for you to not have to explain why you are letting me carry you around. Come, Z, let me return you to your people so you can go home.”
And deal with all the problems going on there. Nodding once in agreement, she returned to Baryaris’s body and picked it up with care. The warding Nivaradros had put around it flared against her magic, but she tried to ignore, since it would enable her to finish her horrible visit to the past. Nivaradros was awaiting her in the main room. His eyes brightened as she approached, and she sighed.
“If it bothers you that much to carry me—”
“I am willing to escort you back to the Rangers. I am not willing to carry that,” Nivaradros snapped as flames escaped.
“I can walk.”
“You will walk over my dead body.”
“Was that an invitation? I thought you wanted to check my fighting skills.”
“I believe we tested your skills this morning. They seem to be passable.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s sort of an ingrained reaction. I’m working on getting it to fade. Hopefully…” she muttered.
Nivaradros twisted his head to look at her. “That reaction, though having a negative twist, is something that will save your life in the future, I am certain it has saved your life in the past. Do not allow it to disappear.”
“So I am often told,” she sighed.
By the time they hit the open air, Z was once again gifted with Nivaradros’s silence. The Dragon flew her to the outer edge of Arriandri while Z scouted the area as best she could. There were, as the Dragon had warned, lots of fires. She would have to alert the Rangers to their peril before she left, but she truthfully couldn’t wait to get out of here. Going home and dealing with Crilyne was starting to look better and better. Not that she was looking forward to it, but she had decided on what she would do with him. Now she just had to work up the nerve to speak to him.
Nivaradros picked a spot to land rather abruptly, and considering the density of trees in comparison to his size, Z was impressed when he managed it. He glanced at her as she slid off his back with Baryaris in her arms, but he didn’t speak, and he didn’t give her a chance to thank him. Dipping his head to her, he took to the skies and was gone—leaving Z to speculate again as to just what had happened between now and when she first met Nivaradros in the future. Whatever it was, it had effected such a change that he had hidden this part of himself even further beneath his surface. She had anticipated that he would be far more dangerous than she was used to—instead, he had been far friendlier than she’d expected.
Glancing up at the beginning stages of dawn, Z sighed and reached out through the amulet. Telling the Rangers where she was, she settled down to wait; she was tired of carrying a dead man. It took them thirty minutes to reach her, and judging by their amour and heavy weaponry, they had already discovered how dangerous the lands outside their walls were. Their faces fell when they saw Baryaris’s still form, but they retained their composure, and Z was grateful.
“How many did we lose yesterday?” she asked as someone approached to take Baryaris’s body.
“Twenty-seven. Even with your warnings, we couldn’t pull everyone who lives outside Arriandri in fast enough. The city is packed with refugees, and more will be arriving today.”
“Are you sending out escort squads?”
“We don’t have the manpower.”
Which was something that the Rangers wouldn’t have for a while. Falling silent, she headed back with them, bringing up the rear. They trusted her instincts and her training—knowing she was a better warrior than any of them—so no one batted an eye when she drew Kyi’rinn and trailed them. Speech was limited. Z heard tidbits of conversations from in front of her, but she was focused more on outer surroundings. No one was nearby, but they had been. Z detected seven fresh presence outlines around the area. She made a mental note to bring it up when the Rangers called a meeting and continued to follow the group back to Arriandie when she detected no threats within the immediate area.
Inside the walls was chaos. Even though she had been warned, Z found herself pulling all of her senses in until each one was silenced. She would have her basic defenses, nothing more, but given her immortality nothing more would be needed. Trying to leave her senses open even a little would have been too jarring; too many people brushing up against them at the same time. Small beings were running around screaming, and Z flinch
ed as one attached himself to her leg. The small being’s mother was quick to grab her son and apologize, but the unexpected contact made thing worse.
Catching Yazimta le Tribarn, she made her apologies to the council member before sprinting ahead to reach Arriandie. The castle was still crowded, but it was better than the streets, and therefore better on her nerves. Reaching the main hall, she glanced at the passage that would take her to the dungeons, the burial caverns, and then to the waters, but she passed the wall without taking her escape route. Without Baryaris the Rangers would need a leader, and since she had been here before, they trusted her enough to be one.
Here she could help without fear of interfering or changing the future. From her research, she knew what she had and had not done. Her job was to get the ball rolling, to teach the Rangers enough to set the course they would take in order to become what she would know in her time. It would be the interactions with the races that would solidify what she was outlining, but the very basics that she offered would become the sole reason the Rangers survived. The loss of Baryaris had hit them hard; she had to turn that anger and fear into something useful. Good thing she had a lot of experience at that.
But first she had to wait for the Rangers to finish mourning Baryaris. She made her excuses and kept to her rooms for the week it took the Rangers to recover from their loss—and shock—over the death of the man who had brought them here with a vision of a better future. She had informed everyone in a very brief statement that Baryaris had been killed by Tenian warriors, so they had also been reeling from the surprise that their former kingdom—where many of them still had family—had broken the no-attack agreement that both sides had signed. As Z had run into a group of Tenians hell bent on killing Baryaris, this lie didn’t bother her at all. And since Nivaradros had torched the Tenians, no one would know the difference.
Eight days after her return to Arriandie, she summoned the Rangers to the throne room as it was the easiest place to gather everyone at once. The set up was similar to the setup she was used to in her time, but there were chairs made by several different people. An immortal would have started throwing a fit at the sight of the thousands of mismatched chairs, but Z silently applauded Baryaris’s decision to have people donate chairs. It made the room theirs, although Z did have to admit the lack of consistency in chairs did look tacky. Maybe it was an immortal thing.
