by T. A. White
One of the Silva looked back to see what was happening. A howl ripped loose in warning as they sprinted Tate’s way.
A shadow arrowed from the sky, hitting the ground hard enough to make it tremble. Ryu's dragon landed between Tate and the Silva, his large, intimidating form an effective obstacle. The Silva stopped, their postures wary as they eyed the dragon with a mix of fear and suspicion.
Tate crouched next to the girl. "I did warn you not to touch me."
The girl didn't answer, even as her eyes rolled Tate's way, a steely reproach in them.
Right, Tate supposed she would have had a similar reaction if someone had given her that advice too.
"Let her up, Night."
Night grumbled, the sound muffled since his teeth were still wrapped around the girl's throat.
Tate rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. I know you're a fierce predator, but we won't get anything out of her if she can't talk."
Moving slowly to show his reluctance, Night peeled his mouth off her neck, but didn't move from his crouched position on her chest.
"That's not helping."
Night swished his tail. You said she couldn't talk with my fangs in her throat. They're no longer in her throat.
"Way to split hairs, buddy," Tate said.
Ilith put her head on her paws. I wanted to play too.
Tate sighed and looked up at Ryu where he loomed protectively over her. His eyes were surprisingly clear, given the fury with which he'd torn out of the wagon. She'd been afraid they'd have a half-mad dragon on their hands when he took to the sky.
She pressed a hand to his side, needing the reassurance. His scales were warm under her hand, supple, like velvet.
"I'm glad you're back," she told him.
Despite that, there was still a tight feeling in her stomach. She suspected she'd have it until the dragon took Ryu's shape and she could touch the man, assure herself he was flesh and bone and here with her.
Ilith lifted her head in Tate's imagination, a crafty look on her face. Mate in truth now. Took you long enough.
Tate didn't respond to the statement, ignoring her dragon but knowing she'd have to deal with Ilith's assumptions at another time.
"You should probably stay in this form," she told the dragon.
They could use a dragon-sized reminder of why the Silva should avoid escalating the situation any further.
The dragon ducked his head and ran the side of his jaw against Tate, scent-marking her. A deep, husky voice brushed across her mind. As our mate wishes.
A shocked breath escaped Tate. That hadn't been Ryu's voice. "Ilith?"
I heard it.
"How?"
There was a long silence where Tate got the sense Ilith was considering her words as she peered at the other dragon.
I don't know, she said. There was longing and just a hint of unease in those words. They didn't fill Tate with confidence.
A thought occurred to her. One of the reasons Ryu had been so concerned about Tate in the beginning was the fact she could hear Ilith's voice. He'd said it was a symptom of dragon madness—one of the biggest signs indicating the human’s mind was deteriorating under the weight of the dragon's.
What they hadn't known at the time, was that Tate had already had dragon madness before her long sleep. Something about her time in stasis had resolved the problem, perhaps it had given her mind time to adjust to Ilith's presence and restore the sanity she'd evidently lost.
It didn't fill her with confidence to hear Ryu's dragon—especially since Ryu had admitted to straying perilously close to madness in the past. His awakening to the bond had been full of devastation and death. It had taken its toll on him and he'd fought a long battle to reclaim control.
We've heard other dragon's thoughts before, Ilith reminded her.
Once, and Thora's dragon was mad too.
Ilith didn't respond to that and Tate let the topic go. There was no way to tell at the moment, and Ryu's dragon was behaving itself considering there was at least twenty Silva with sharp weapons pointed at him.
She'd leave the question for later. No point in losing her mind without proof.
"Who is your leader?" Tate asked in a voice that carried.
She couldn't see the reaction her words had caused because Ryu's dragon had planted itself between her and them, obstructing her view, and now refused to move.
When she tried to sidestep him, he shifted with her, making the task impossible.
The look she sent him was irritated and carried enough heat to flay skin. His reaction was a throaty chuckle that resulted in the Silva near them jerking and reacting with fear.
She gave him a quelling look. She needed these people to talk to her, not attack because they were too afraid to be sensible.
"You talk to me," the girl said from behind her.
Tate twisted, taking in the girl where she lay perfectly still under Night’s weight on her chest.
"What do you think?" Tate asked Night.
He lowered his head and snuffled along her neck, before sneezing in her face. Not strong enough yet. She might be in line for leader when she is older, but right now she doesn't carry enough authority.
"I agree," Tate said.
She faced the rest. "Are you really going to let this child take your place?"
Tate waited, listening. Nothing. She found herself wishing she could see their faces, read their expressions to guess what they were thinking. One glance at Ryu's dragon told her that wasn't happening.
"No," a voice whispered, a split second later a force struck Tate across her lower back.
She grunted in pain as she stumbled forward. Ryu’s dragon roared in fury and Tate sensed her grip on the situation fading.
Her wrist burned as the liquid silver bubbled out of her skin. It whipped up between her and her assailant, stopping the next attack. With a thought, she redirected several drops, wrapping them around the staff and immobilizing it.
Before her, fire sparked deep in the dragon's belly. His mouth dropped open as he prepared to spray everyone around him.
Urgency and need combined to forced her to achieve new heights as she reached for the silver, twisting it to her purpose. It answered her call, boiling out of her skin in rivers and flooding through the air to form an impenetrable wall between the dragon and everyone else.
It condensed in seconds, just in time, as fire roared out of the dragon’s mouth.
Tate strained. The weapon responded to mental discipline. She might have been given a glimpse of its capabilities at the glass lake, but Tate was unused to controlling it on a larger scale. Her mind balked.
She gasped as the wall collapsed, the silver dissolving.
Liquid drops fell from her nose. Tate pressed her wrist to it, unsurprised when it came away with a smear of blood.
A shocked silence descended. The Silva were motionless as they realized the price they’d almost paid.
Ryu's dragon still glared, but he closed his mouth. His mind brushed against hers in an unspoken apology.
Tate panted before whirling on their leader. He stared past her, his eyes wide and shocked.
He was a big man, bigger than she'd expected, the size of a small, human-shaped boulder. His face was gruff and his features rough, his hair wild around his shoulders. Like the girl and the rest, he didn't seem quite tame. He behaved as if civilization and all its trappings sat ill on his shoulders.
Two steps took Tate to his side, Ilith lending her strength as she grabbed him by the throat. She was stronger than she should have been as she forced him back, a fact she attributed to the almost incandescent rage pouring through her.
"A leader is supposed to protect. Not get everyone killed," Tate hissed, Ilith's and her voice combining until it took on an eerie resonance. "You don't attack a dragon or its companions unless you wish for death."
It took more control than Tate wanted to admit, not to squeeze the life from him. Her head pounded from the use of the relic and her soul trembled at the clo
se call.
"You—" he tried to speak but her grip on his throat made that difficult.
Tate couldn't find it in herself to care, Ilith's cold practicality taking control as their personalities and spirits meshed. It was a dangerous state. The dragon didn't care for such things as human morality. She was a cold bitch who was only concerned about protecting what was hers.
And she was all too happy to help her with whatever was needed. The cold logic pushed Tate to a dangerous edge she might not have approached on her own.
Sharp claws against her leg brought her back to reason.
She glanced down to find Night peering up at her with a reproachful expression. If I can't tear their throats out, neither can you.
The bearcat took in the man she had clutched in an unbreakable grip, his expression unimpressed. He will find it hard to talk with you holding him like that.
A small growl escaped Ilith at the thought of Night trying to steal her prey.
Tate took a deep breath and forced the dragon back, just a little. Ilith resisted before easing into the background, grumbling about stolen kills.
"That's better," Tate said with a relieved smile. She might still end up killing the man she held, but at least it wouldn't be an accident. "Now, explain."
"You're trespassing," a stubborn voice said from behind her. "We don't allow outsiders on our land, and that's what you are, mad dragon."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Tate paused, shifting slightly to keep the girl in view. With no Night to hold her down, she'd found another weapon and held it loosely in her hands.
Most would have used Night's distraction to flee, hoping to outrun danger.
Interesting that the girl chose to stand and fight. It said she was either very loyal, a lot stubborn, or slightly stupid. Possibly all three.
"Lita, enough." the man Tate held said in a gruff growl.
"Why? You said we must protect our land from all comers."
"Quiet, girl." This time his snap held a thread of command even Tate felt.
Lita's mouth slammed shut but his order didn't stop the mutinous look she shot at Tate and him.
"That's the smartest thing I've seen you do," Tate told the man as she released him and stepped out of swiping range.
It was a mistake to have gotten so close, even with the silver relic acting as a type of armor. The Silva didn't need weapons to be dangerous. They were the weapons.
She was a little surprised he hadn't tried to disembowel her. He'd certainly had the opportunity.
"Even outsiders can bite," Tate told the girl.
"I second that sentiment." Evan stepped into view around Ryu's bulk, Wilson a silent shadow at his side.
The other man was bulkier than she remembered, his hair longer and wilder, almost like a mane, standing straight out from his head. The way he held his hands, the fingers slightly spread and tense, told Tate he had some type of claw on them.
Her attention focused on Evan as she narrowed her eyes. She hadn't heard a banshee scream or felt the pain of its cry. How had he escaped the Silva's attention?
The look he gave her was wry. "I told you, my nephew is young. I've much more control."
"So, I see," Tate said. She couldn't help but be a touch impressed.
He'd disarmed the Silva guarding him with no one the wiser. A talent like that must come in handy.
"We would not have been easy prey even without the dragons among our number." To her surprise, there was no anger in his words or expression, only sincerity and an apology.
The man Tate had threatened drew himself up, shaking his body like a dog as if to rid himself of the memory of Tate maneuvering him as if he weighed no more than a wet kitten.
His eyebrows lowered as he glanced between the two of them. "Which of you speaks for these people?"
Tate spread her hands. "That answer is a bit murky."
"The lady dragon does not speak for my people." Evan hesitated before adding, "Nor do I speak for hers."
Tate waited to see what the stranger would do.
He made a small sound in the back of his throat, frustration and irritation chasing each other across his face. "Fair enough. Either way, you've trespassed into Kinjisan territory." He pointed at Evan. "Your kind at least know this. The berserker at your side should have made you aware of such."
"Indeed, doyen," Evan agreed inclining his chin. "Please believe me. We would not be here if we were not desperate."
Night's ears flicked. There are still others concealed.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
The doyen's eyes flickered as Night chuffed an assent.
She sighed. For once she wished things were simple and easy.
Liar, Ilith whispered.
Tate didn't respond as she fixed the doyen with a dark stare. "Would you like to tell the rest of your friends to come out of hiding?"
He studied her before dropping his attention to Night. A thoughtful expression moved across his face as Night watched him, his tail flicking with restlessness.
"Can he take human shape?" the doyen asked.
Tate couldn’t help the way her hands curled into fists at her sides in reaction. Beside her, Night's body was deceptively relaxed.
"What would you know about that?" Tate asked softly.
Ryu's dragon rumbled above her, a reminder she needed to keep her temper if she didn't want this to turn into bloodshed.
The doyen's gaze flickered as if Tate had confirmed something for him. He tipped his head back, a howl erupting from his throat.
Silva appeared—lining the cliffs above, the boulders around them. Tate caught sight of several on the valley floor who hadn't been there before.
Ryu's dragon snarled in startled response. There must be hundreds surrounding them. This wasn't some ill-thought-out ambush attempt.
If she'd killed the Silva who'd attacked her, she had no doubt the entire caravan would have died before they even knew there was another threat.
Evan's eyes met hers, the same realization in his expression.
The big man stepped toward Tate and gestured to her wrist. She lifted it, still reeling and unwilling to risk escalating the situation to an all-out battle.
He brushed his fingers over the design. It had grown more complicated in the short time since she'd used it against Christopher. A dizzying array of swoops and shapes had been added to the already complicated pattern.
"A relic," he said. "First generation. It's rare one from that time period will bond to anyone nowadays. It's said they were created specifically for the Saviors and their enemies." His eyes were watchful as he released her wrist. "You've either been blessed by the gods. Or cursed."
"I'm going to go with cursed. Somehow that seems more fitting in my current circumstances."
His lips twitched the faintest bit. "Follow. We will hear your petition."
Tate opened her mouth and then closed it, unsure what to say to his order.
"Ah, you'll have to leave the wagons, and your dragon will need to return to a man's form." The trace of a smile widened into something approaching humor. "Neither will fit where we're going."
He strode toward his people before Tate could get a word out.
Evan drew closer, leaving Wilson where he'd been standing. Probably a good thing, since the other man looked as if he was still waiting for the battle that had just been called off.
"What do you want to do?" Tate asked Evan.
Of the two of them, he had more experience with the Silva.
He stared at the wagons with resignation. "He's right. The wagons won't make it much further in this terrain. I'll have to leave my people behind."
"You don't have to come," Tate pointed out. "This isn't your battle. Without us you can return to the road."
All of them could except her and Ryu—and possibly Night.
Evan was silent as he considered. "The majority of my people will return to the road. They'll travel to the Harridan's city by more normal means and meet us there."
Tate lifted an eyebrow.
"It’s time we take a more active role in events. We've been relegated to the outskirts for too long and the unscrupulous have taken advantage of our seeming weakness."
Tate frowned, not liking the idea of having one more person to look out for.
"You should be happy," he said. "You're the one who inspired us to walk this path."
"Yay, me," Tate said grumpily.
He slapped her on the back and glanced at Ryu. "I'll leave it to you to convince the dragon."
Tate didn't respond, following his gaze. She sighed.
"I don't envy you the task," he said with a smirk.
"Nor I you, breaking it to the Ahnteela she'll be remaining with the wagons." Tate might not be able to tell Evan no, but she put her foot down over dragging the old woman with them. A possible battle was no place for the Avertine's Ahnteela. Tate didn't want her possible death on her conscience.
Evan grimaced before he walked off, shaking his head.
When he was gone, Tate propped her hands on her hips and tipped her head back to take in the large dragon. "Are you going to make this easy or difficult?"
His mouth parted in a dragon grin before he lowered his head and shoved his snout into her stomach. His head tilted to give her access to a particularly scratchy spot on his jaw. Left with little choice, she scratched under his chin, at first lightly and then harder as his eyes closed and he nearly collapsed in pleasure.
All the while she glared at the nosy Avertine and Silva, who stared at them with confusion and something approaching awe. Guess nobody had ever seen a dragon acting like a kid with a treat before.
"Spoiling him isn't likely to inspire his return to human," the Ahnteela observed, moving slowly across the unsteady ground.
"Somehow I don't think issuing demands is going to work either," Tate responded as the Ahnteela came to a stop next to the dragon’s great head. The dragon's almost inaudible purr stopped, the only evidence he noticed the Ahnteela's presence.
Brave woman to get so close. Many wouldn't have dared.
If Ryu's dragon was anything like Ilith, he'd be contrary, just because he could.
The Ahnteela gave a small harrumph before addressing Ryu's dragon. "Lasoso tee, you are looking better. Not so comatose."
