by Ann Gimpel
They couldn’t kill him, but they could make him damned miserable.
He raked his hands through his hair, shoving it behind his shoulders, and trotted across the room toward his library. Maintained with magic, the chamber had neither windows nor doors. Once he’d slithered through the illusion holding the room apart from the rest of the lower level, it didn’t take long to locate what he wanted. He took a few moments to consult two moldering scrolls, memorizing the incantation. And an alternate in case the first didn’t work.
Satisfied he was as prepared as he could be, he called a short teleport spell to take him to the room with his clothing chests. Feeling light, buoyant, and far better than he had before he came, he squatted in front of his chest and selected a pair of buff-colored leather breeks, soft lace-up boots, and a dark-green tunic, woven from lambswool, that had always been one of his favorites.
Suitably attired in centuries-old clothing, he walked nimbly downstairs to the kitchen. Everyone sat around the table, and the food dishes were empty. Katya glanced his way, her eyes widening. “Oh my. We’ve become formal.” She pushed back from her seat. “I’ll just run up and get dressed too.”
“Do not bother on my account,” Johan stood and half bowed.
Konstantin laughed. “Never tell a beautiful naked woman to cover herself, eh?”
“Something like that.” Johan sank back into his chair.
Even though they may have already answered a similar question from his sister, he asked, “Why’d you toss your lot in with us?”
“Your sister asked the same thing,” Johan murmured.
“What did you tell her?”
“We have different reasons,” Erin replied. “Quite different, really. Turns out Johan has always had a fascination with magic. I never believed it existed.”
“But you do now,” Konstantin said.
She pushed her shoulders back, accentuating the swell of her breasts beneath her top. “Rather difficult not to when you turn into a dragon in front of me. And your sister waves a hand over our fish and they vanish. Either I actually saw the transformations, or I imagined them. Or I was dreaming or dead or suddenly took a nosedive into mental illness.”
“I take it you discarded the other options?” Konstantin furled his brows.
The corners of her mouth twitched. “I tried to convince Johan we were dead. He wasn’t buying it.”
“Good man.” Konstantin nodded Johan’s way. “Other than nurturing a secret belief in magic, why’d you decide to remain? You never did answer my question.”
“Proximity to magic was my primary motivation.” Johan met his direct gaze. “I finally stumbled into something I had suspected was real for most of my life. To walk away before I could delve into it, learn as much as I could, would have crushed part of my soul.”
“And you?” Konstantin turned toward Erin.
She laughed. “I’m afraid my motives aren’t nearly as pure as Johan’s. Part of my medical training is triage. It means I go where I’m needed most. From what you said, it appeared we’d be throwing our lives away if we returned to the surface. I didn’t fancy standing by while people died in droves around me from a poison I had no antidote for.”
She drew her brows together. “I’m assuming since the toxin is magical, nothing crafted by humans would counteract it.”
Konstantin nodded. “Sea-serpent venom is malleable. It changes depending on how they choose to employ it. So even if you stumbled on something effective against it—which is unlikely—they would simply alter the formulation.”
Breath hissed through her teeth and she muttered, “Got it,” tightly before adding. “I figured I could do more good here than watching people die. Maybe you’ll come up with something, a way to fight the serpents. I probably won’t be much good in any kind of battle capacity, but I can patch up wounds.”
He muted the smile that wanted out. Her willingness to help in any way she could boded well.
The ether glistened, and Katya shimmered into view. She’d donned a long black skirt and a soft-looking sweater in tones of cream and blue. Her coppery hair was drawn back into a queue that hung down her back.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked and slid into a chair next to him.
“Not really,” Johan answered. “We basically told him the same things we told you. About why we opted to remain.”
Konstantin stood and walked to the end of the table where he could see everyone easily. “All right. I will not lie to you. I expect you to do what Katya or I request without question. No matter how you feel about it.”
“What kind of requests?” Erin sat straighter. “Give me an example, please.”
“Say we are on the surface and it becomes necessary to take our dragon forms; we may instruct you to mount us.”
“Very cool!” Johan made a fist and punched the air.
“Ride a dragon?” Erin’s voice shook a little.
“Yes. We hate having anyone on our backs,” Katya replied, “so we would only order you to ride us if it wasn’t safe to leave you.”
“Other examples,” Konstantin continued, “include any reasonable request. You must trust if we are asking, it is necessary.”
Erin shook her head. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Why not?” Konstantin asked.
She spread her hands on the table. “We don’t understand you, but nor do you understand us. I’m close to forty years old, which is probably nothing to you, but in human terms I’m edging toward middle age. I haven’t been in a position where someone has told me what to do—and forced me to comply—for a long time.”
“Not precisely true,” Johan said.
“But they’re proposing to treat us like children,” Erin protested.
“Hear me out,” he urged. “You do have people shaping your behavior. Your medical board, for instance, has standards. If you deviate from them significantly, they have the power to pull your license. Aboard Darya, we had many rules we had to follow. Most were for our safety and the convenience of the crew. I did not agree with all of them, but nor did I argue, and neither did you.
“As an engineer, I am held to certain standards as well. Unlike you, I do not have a license that can be withdrawn, but if I venture too far beyond accepted scientific methods, no one will hire me.”
Konstantin focused on Johan’s words. Perhaps he’d been misguided to assume the humans had to conform to dragon-shifter standards. They could learn from each other, which offered value beyond creating new dragon shifters. A topic he hadn’t yet raised.
Erin nodded slowly. “You’ve made excellent points. I got so spun out by feeling like my freedom was being encroached upon, I didn’t move the lens out far enough.”
“Is freedom very important to humans?” Konstantin asked. “And what did you mean about a lens?”
“I can only speak for myself,” Erin replied, “but personal freedom is critical to me. The lens analogy was from a camera.” At his blank look, she went on. “It’s a device that creates a likeness of something, rather like painting a picture. Depending on where I stand with my camera—and what kind of lens I have—I get very different perspectives if I stand closer or farther from the thing I want a picture of.”
“Do you have one of these things with you?” Katya asked.
Johan sputtered something that sounded like a dismissive grunt. “All our gear is aboard the Darya, assuming she is still floating.”
“A big assumption,” Katya said. “The serpents may have scuttled both boats.”
“Back to freedom”—Konstantin skewered Erin with his gaze—“what would make you feel yours had been violated?”
“There’s no easy answer.” She held his gaze. “I told myself I have to open my mind, be more flexible.” Color rose to her cheeks. “Um, one of the downsides of being a doctor in the States is we believe we’re at the top of a whole lot of heaps.”
“States?” Katya asked.
“The New World,” Konstantin told his sister. �
�North America is split between three countries, Canada, the United States, and Mexico.”
“Thanks. Even though we speak English,” Katya went on, “some of your phrases are confusing. I understand being on top of something, but how does it relate to being a healer?”
“Doctors in the States have a privileged position in society,” Johan told her. “This is not so much true in Europe where they are salaried workers like the rest of us.”
“What I tried to tiptoe around”—Erin picked up the conversation she’d let drop—“is I’ll do my damnedest not to let my belief I’m special—something that’s drummed into every newly minted doctor—get in the way of being a team player.”
“So, healers believe they deserve more freedom than everyone else?” Konstantin was still trying to understand.
“Maybe not so much freedom as latitude and respect. Anyway, I’ll work on getting over it, but I can’t guarantee I won’t ask questions if something makes no sense to me.”
“And if I tell you there’s no time for an answer?” Konstantin pressed.
“Then, I guess I’ll accept it and move on.”
It was good enough. “So long as you do not balk and refuse, all will be well.”
“What about new dragon shifters—and mating?” Katya asked in telepathy.
“Too much information right now,” he told his sister. “We can save that part for later.”
“But it’s the main reason they’re here.”
“Later.” Konstantin closed off their private channel.
“Were the two of you talking?” Johan’s gaze slid from him to Katya. “I felt something electric flicker between you.”
“Yes. We can converse in mind speech,” Konstantin said. Fascination shone from Johan’s dark eyes. He’d probably warm to turning into a dragon shifter, but Erin was skittish as a newly hatched youngling. She was putting up a brave front, but apprehension rode close to the surface.
Katya’s eyes widened, and she stood and began stripping out of the clothing she’d just put on. “My dragon is back. She says for us to meet her at the surface.”
Konstantin started removing his clothing as well.
“I want to come with you,” Johan said.
“So do I,” Erin spoke firmly. Flowing to her feet, she picked through the pile of garments she and Johan had heaped at the end of the table and layered them on top of what she was wearing.
Johan mirrored her actions and glanced at Konstantin. “We can join you, right?”
Erin had levered off her boots so she could put on a thick outer suit, but she stopped and looked at him too.
Konstantin juggled his concerns, laying them aside for now. Either the four of them were allies—or not. While it was far more convenient to leave the humans beneath the ice sheet, it wasn’t fair to them, nor would leaving them behind teach him anything about how willing they were to play by dragon-shifter rules.
“All right. Hurry and dress. Once you’re ready, we’ll go and meet Katya’s dragon.”
“Can both of you be visible at the same time?” Johan asked as he tossed clothes on.
Katya shook her head. “We are two consciousnesses, but it is either her form or mine. Never both.”
“Intriguing,” Erin said. “I want to hear more about how that works. Okay. I’m ready.”
“So am I.” Johan strode to a spot near him and Katya. “How will this work?”
“We will include you in our spell,” Katya told him.
“It will seem strange,” Konstantin cautioned, “but do not fight the sensation.”
“Strange like the passageway that chucked us in your living room?” Erin asked.
He smiled. Erin could no more not ask questions than she could not breathe, but it was hard to fault her for curiosity. “Exactly like that.” Before she could formulate any more questions, he called power. Once it crackled around them, he provided their destination.
A familiar surge of enchantment swept them into its maw. He found himself hoping Erin would embrace the feeling. He wanted her to welcome magic in all its manifestations, but it would take time.
Time they might not have now that the sea-serpents had come calling.
Chapter 10
The bite of Konstantin’s magic rippled around me. It was, indeed, very like the sensation that had pounded against me after we jumped through the black hole-esque thing in the crystal cave. Rather like a mild electric shock paired with the scent of baked clay and a piquant herb I couldn’t quite identify. Maybe rosemary or cilantro.
It hadn’t taken very long for Johan and me to cover the miles between the cave and the dragons’ home, so I wasn’t surprised when an icy blast of air announced our arrival on the surface. I zipped my suit to my chin and cinched the hood cord. Despite the nearly half a year I’d spent in Antarctic waters, I was never quite prepared for the cold that hit me like a wall, stealing breath and freezing my lungs.
Konstantin and Katya were naked. How the hell did the well-below-zero chill not bother them? The magic shielding us dissipated. Icy sleet mixed with snow spilled from skies filled with gunmetal-colored clouds. The wind must have been gusting to forty miles an hour. I had to plant my feet to not get swept off them.
Waves crashed against the ice-crusted shoreline.
A blast of light so intense I clapped my mittened hands over my eyes died away almost as soon as it flared. I pried my eyes open, shielding them against the wind with hands and hood, and saw a golden dragon. I don’t know why I expected Katya to look like her brother, but her dragon was totally different. Not just in color, but in proportions.
Katya was smaller—if you consider seven feet an improvement over eight—with more delicate proportions. Except I wasn’t sure “delicate” applied to any dragon. She might have different-colored scales, but her eyes were the same, whirling gold with deep-green centers.
She was perched on a chunk of ice with Konstantin standing next to her. Light flickered around them, adding a golden glow to his phenomenal physique. Not that it needed any help. Was he why I’d caved and said I’d stay? A rather guilty yes formed in my mind.
He might not be the whole reason, but he was a big part of it. He’d as much as said he’d imported Johan and me to make new dragon shifters. That might mean sex. A small spark of heat began in my belly and traveled downward.
Or it might be anchored to magic and have nothing to do with the “normal” way babies happened.
“It is good to be aboveground,” Johan said, his deep voice breaking into my thoughts.
I wrenched my gaze away from Konstantin’s Apollo gorgeousness and nodded. It was a relief to be outside. Something about knowing miles of dirt sat above my head would have bothered me—if I’d allowed myself to focus on it. As it was, I’d had plenty of other items to occupy my mind.
Konstantin walked to where Johan and I stood. I scanned him for patches of frostbite, blue lips, ice clinging to his eyelashes and found none of the above. I may have included his genitals in my visual exam, but only for clinical reasons. Regardless of my pathetic rationale, the inescapable conclusion was his body temperature had to be a whole lot higher than 98.6.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes.” Johan smiled.
“I am going to take my dragon form, and Katya and I will fly a reconnaissance to see if the ships are still nearby. Or the serpents. You may remain here, accompany us, or I can return you down below.”
“I will come with you,” Johan said without the slightest hesitation.
I tried. God knows I tried to say the words that would place me on top of a flying dragon, but they got stuck somewhere between my throat and my teeth. “Okay if I stay here?” I asked brightly. I did not want to end up stuck in the dragon’s subterranean lair by myself.
“Probably,” Konstantin answered. “Although it’s better for us to remain together.” He turned one hand so his palm was facing upward and blew on it. I was coming to recognize the feel of his magic, but surprise raced
through me when a clear crystalline rock formed, glowing golden in its center.
He handed it to me. “Tuck this inside that garment of yours so you won’t lose it. If you run into problems, don’t hesitate. Call my name, and I will be here as quickly as I can.”
“Thank you.” I unzipped one of my chest pockets and dropped the stone inside. It was warm, and its heat radiated through my multiple layers, warming me.
Johan and Konstantin walked away from me. This time, I was proactive about shielding my eyes and managed it a scant moment before Konstantin morphed into a dragon. Seeing him next to his sister reinforced how real all this was.
Two dragons puffing steam and smoke into the frigid air stood not twenty feet from me. Katya waggled a curved reddish talon, and Johan moved right next to her. She bent forward, both forelegs extended, and lifted him easily, swinging him sideways and back until he sat astride her.
He looked like a kid at a carnival, naked joy carved into his face. Jealousy stabbed me, biting deep. I wanted that sense of wonder; it had run off and left me in the dirt so long ago I barely remembered.
Next time, I promised myself.
Next time, I’d gather my courage and ride Konstantin. Especially after I’d pumped Johan for intel on everything about today’s adventure. I watched while the dragons extended their wings. It was windy enough, all they had to do was unfurl them and they turned into airfoils, pulling them into the slipstream.
Johan didn’t seem to be having any trouble staying astride. The dragons had two protuberances at the base of their necks, which provided something akin to a saddle horn to hang onto. Part of me was sad, another was angry. I didn’t have to be such a fucking wimp, but I was still half-expecting to emerge from a coma and be told this was all something my subconscious mind had dreamed up.
I’d sustained a hell of a bump on my head, so my reasoning wasn’t all that far out in left field.
The dragons flew higher and higher. Made sense if they wanted to evade detection from the sea-serpents. Presumably, they were stuck in the sea—unless they became human. I scrunched my forehead trying to remember. Either Katya or her brother had said they assumed the serpents could take human form, but they weren’t certain.
