Rosko, Mandy - Eclipse (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Mandy Rosko

  They hiked silently for about an hour before someone decided to speak.

  “We shan’t reach the place of His Majesty’s attack until nightfall,” Bell said, leading the way. The wind carried her chiming voice the way a mother would carry a precious infant. “We shall have to rely on the vampire during that time.”

  “We can see perfectly well in the dark,” Kehn muttered, looking at Dawn from the corner of his eye. So he wasn’t onboard with this setup either. No surprise.

  “The vampire’s sight is better, her sense of smell sharper,” Bell replied. Though her voice sounded like bells, it was strictly no-nonsense.

  The vampire has a name. Dawn wanted to say it but opted to keep her mouth shut as whatever little respect she may have had for the tree-talker dwindled. Still, she’d love it if the tree branches suddenly sprung out and scratched Bell’s pretty face, and she wasn’t hoping for that out of jealousy or anything.

  No such luck. Although it didn’t look like Bell was going out of her way to avoid the reaching branches, if Dawn didn’t know any better, she would have thought they were moving out of her way to accommodate her, to make the travel easier.

  They seemed to be doing it for Kehn and Aaron as well, whereas they were doing their damndest to get at Dawn.

  “Are ye not accustomed to silent and swift movements, vampire?” Bell asked when Dawn loudly swore a third time, yanking the gnarled tree branch away from her helmet where it had left a long scratch down her visor. Something for her to look at for the rest of the trip.

  Fucking elves.

  “Her name is Dawn,” Aaron said.

  Bell stopped to face him. Dawn and Kehn halted as well. Confusion clouded Bell’s eyes.

  “She is Lady Dawn of the Blue Isle,” Aaron repeated. “She is yer princess. Address her as such.”

  For the first time since throwing it on, Dawn was grateful to be wearing the helmet. She still couldn’t blush, but facial features alone could give away the load of are-you-kidding-me shock that was no doubt pasted all over her face.

  Bell blinked at Aaron’s command, but then collected herself, looked back at Dawn, and smiled. She even did a little bob on her feet as a sort of curtsy but without the dress. “Of course. Forgive me, Highness. I meant no disrespect.”

  She sounded as though she meant it, too.

  “That’s all right.” Dawn cleared her throat to get it sounding normal again, though she knew how muffled her voice probably came out through the helmet. “How are we going to get your father anyway?”

  “I have been inside a dragon’s den before, several decades ago,” Aaron said. “I know a path that will take us up the mountain unnoticed.”

  Kehn touched his shoulder, the first time Dawn had ever seen him willingly touch his friend, and he still hesitated a little. Aaron shrugged off the hand, annoyed.

  She felt like she was watching a soap opera. The more she watched, the more mysterious drama unfolded. Obviously there was still some animosity toward the dragons, at least on Aaron’s part, regardless of what anyone said about their peaceful sharing of the island and lack of soldiers to protect it. But what was it?

  Dawn didn’t ask. Married or not, she was still the outsider here. The party moved on, the forest becoming darker and denser as the hours passed, yet Dawn still kept her motorcycle helmet on.

  Eventually the path became too narrow for even two to walk comfortably side-by-side. Kehn stayed in line behind Bell, yet nearly walked on her heels, occasionally throwing glances to Dawn, who stayed behind him, though she was at a distance of ten paces. Minimum.

  “I’m not going to attack her,” she snapped when Kehn looked back at her for a fifth time. Kehn turned away and resumed guarding their guide.

  Aaron stayed in the back, much farther behind, at least twenty paces away from her. She sighed. He was hardly afraid to come near her before. He was likely just getting tired, she told herself.

  Dawn slowed her pace so he would catch up.

  He didn’t.

  She all but dragged her feet, falling even more behind Bell and her boyfriend.

  Aaron still didn’t come up in her peripheral vision. She stopped and turned. Just in time to watch him halt in his tracks.

  “What are ye doing?” he asked.

  “What are you doing?”

  He sent her a confused scowl.

  “I want to walk with you,” she said. If they were going to be travelling until they got to the spot where the damn king went missing then she at least wanted someone to talk to.

  “There is hardly space for that,” he said.

  Dawn recalled how twitchy Kehn got when Aaron had touched his shoulder, and yet he’d been so close to her, had caressed a lock of her hair as though he hadn’t done such a thing in his entire life. Was this custom of royalty never allowing touching so ingrained into him that, in a small group such as this, he wasn’t willing to be near anyone?

  Either that or he lagged behind to prevent her from running off.

  No. That wasn’t it either.

  “Come and have a conversation with your wife,” Dawn demanded, stopping entirely.

  Despite the helmet, her ears detected that the soft footfalls of the two elves ahead of her were no longer moving. They’d stopped abruptly at the command.

  Let them simmer in it. She was a newly made princess, and she was going to give orders. She wasn’t going to be shackled to a man, elf, whatever, with ideas on touching so strict he kept a distance even from his wife. It was great he wasn’t trying to jump her bones ten seconds after meeting her and all that, but enough was enough.

  Aaron regarded her with a calculating expression. Then his lips lifted with a tiny smile. He bowed his head to her. “As you wish.”

  He resumed his trek, stopping when he was beside her. The brushes and branches clawed his tunic and cloak, but they were next to each other. It seemed even the tree branches couldn’t make enough room when he was so far into them, but he did manage to keep that pretty face of his from being scratched.

  “Thank you,” Dawn said.

  “Your Highness!” Kehn snapped. He stared at Aaron, so close to Dawn, with his mouth open so she could see the back of his throat. Bell was much more polite and covered her mouth with her hands. Their heartbeats were through the roof.

  “I’m not going to attack him,” she snapped. “Calm down.”

  “It’s not ye we are concerned for,” Bell said.

  What?

  “Let’s resume our walk,” Aaron said, storming ahead. “In case ye have all forgotten, my father is still missing.”

  Bell and Kehn made as much room for their prince as they possibly could without leaping right into the trees as he passed them.

  To test the waters, Dawn did the same. She walked with her head up and back straight through the space they’d made while they were still distracted. They didn’t exactly jump back as she came near, but they eyed her carefully, and it wasn’t because her suit still freaked them out. Something was definitely happening here.

  Maybe Aaron did have something, something everyone on this island was afraid to catch. It would explain why the elvish council and the royal family would agree to marry her to a first son, a first son who would not inherit the throne, at any rate.

  They walked quietly now, and Dawn didn’t want to break the silence. Aaron was leading now, no longer willing to humor her by walking side-by-side, or talking, and she watched him carefully, searching for any misstep or sign of…anything unusual. What had she been married to?

  Chapter Five

  They continued on, speaking no more unless it was to dissect clues as to the whereabouts of the king, dead or alive. There was the odd broken twig, and occasional footprint in the pine needles, but since elves were so light on their feet, those clues were few and far in between.

  Luckily, Dawn hated to admit, Kehn was an excellent tracker, and if these little clues told them anything, it was that they were headed in the right direction, and that the trees had been
correct on which way to go.

  Night came. Even with the darkness of her visor, Dawn felt the shift in temperature, like a furnace she’d been standing next to had suddenly powered down.

  Thank God.

  Dawn ripped the helmet from her head and gulped in fresh air the way a man drank ice water after spending hours in a sauna, or a desert. Next, she tore off her gloves and unzipped her leather jacket, letting her skin breathe.

  Her hair stuck to her neck and cheeks in sweaty, wet globs. Her white tank clung to her chest and stomach in a similar fashion. She might as well have climbed out of a pool, but the dampness on her coupled with the night air was an extra relief, ironically enough.

  But even that wasn’t enough. “I’m thirsty,” she said, voice rasping, tongue heavy. She couldn’t take it anymore, and if she was going to continue on with them, she needed to feed.

  Kehn and Bell watched her curiously, still keeping their distance. Aaron pulled his water skin from his belt and held it out for her.

  She shook her head. “Not that kind of thirsty.”

  He jerked his hand back. “I—yes, of course,” Aaron said, his eyes suddenly searching the dark canopy above.

  Bell tensed and took a step back. Kehn put himself in front of her, a blade suddenly in hand.

  She snarled at them. “I know how to hold off. Relax yourselves.”

  “Expect no trust from me, vampire,” Kehn said. “I can go for days without sleeping. Remember that if yer thirst becomes too much for ye.”

  “Kehn.” Aaron’s voice held a warning. “As the lady said, calm yerself.” He looked back to the dark canopy above him, held out his arm, and made a perfect-sounding hoot.

  It was so flawless Dawn thought the noise came from an actual owl, hiding somewhere in the trees, but it had been from him. Aaron made the sound again, and she watched as his throat vibrated with the noise, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. An answering hoot, this time from the trees above, returned his call.

  An owl, golden in color with the biggest eyes Dawn had ever seen in a flat face, swooped down from its nest. Long wings stretched wide, it angled its body vertically as it neared, claws extended and reaching for Aaron’s arm to perch. It clasped on, flapping lovely wings before finding purchase and folding them on its back.

  Aaron stroked the bird’s feathered chest with a crook of a finger, a gentle touch that Dawn envied. She loved birds, owls especially, but her chance to ask didn’t come.

  Aaron whispered something into the ear of the owl, who tilted its head, as if to better hear. Whatever it was had been in such a soft voice that even Dawn’s sensitive hearing couldn’t pick it up.

  Whatever it was had been quick. Aaron jerked his head back to avoid the flapping wings when the bird pulled himself back into the air, screeching with purpose. When the owl disappeared, Aaron removed his gloves, stretched his fingers, and sighed.

  Dawn had no idea what that had been about, but it had been interesting. Her husband was good with birds and obviously had a voice that brought them to him from the safety of their nests. She should have known. He was an elf, but watching him gently handle that bird and speak to it as though it were an old friend, he suddenly looked just a little different to her.

  “Highness!” Bell called.

  Dawn groaned. What was she going to complain about this time?

  But both Bell and Kehn were on alert. Their body language not casual, but tight, ready to spring, and not at her either. Something had set them off.

  It put Dawn on edge, her eyes searching through the heavy trees and brushes for any possible threat, giant snakes included. She heard nothing. She saw nothing, but she didn’t relax. “What’s out there?”

  Aaron asked, hastening to put his gloves back on. “I do not know. Bell?”

  The elf woman pointed down at the mossy ground with her bow, which she’d pulled out as though she expected to use it very soon. “This is where the serpent attacked,” she said.

  Dawn’s tight muscles went lax. The attack had been long enough ago that she doubted the giant snake would still be near. She stepped closer, careful not to step into whatever Bell pointed at, and then, finally, took note of the differences in areas of the forest floor.

  Damp leaves, twigs, and grass were firmly pressed into the earth, as though a hefty weight had crushed them. That serpent must be as big as a bus and as heavy as a bulldozer. What had Aaron called it before? Titan serpent? Whatever he’d said, only now did Dawn have a real idea to the size of the thing.

  She continued to study the spot. Right next to this mashed down area, the same bits and pieces of the forest remained in their natural state. The few stalks of grass weakly reaching up through the debris, for whatever little sunlight they could find, had not been so ruthlessly flattened.

  “What do ye think, vam—Highness?” Bell asked.

  Nice save. Dawn followed the long, snaking trail that moved in a sloppy S pattern. Pine needles, leaves, and clumps of dark earth had been pushed up from where the giant snake had slithered along. The trail it made with its body was thick enough for a car to drive down. “I’d do just about anything to keep from ever meeting one of these bad boys.”

  Then a sharp, wonderfully intoxicating scent touched her noise. It smelled of warmth, life, and a touch of spice. Her mouth filled with saliva, and her fangs become just a little longer, just a little sharper, and she had to reign herself in. Whatever had put the scent of blood in her nose wasn’t something she would be feeding on.

  “Princess, what have ye found?” Aaron asked, having noticed her behavior change.

  Dawn shook her head. The king? No, the strength of the scent was too much. No humanoid creature released that much blood.

  “I think we’ve found the snake.” Dawn moved away from the group and followed her nose, the already strong scent becoming nearly unbearable, even to her, yet still bringing a growl to her belly and a tingle to every vein in her body.

  “Stay close. Dawn!” Aaron said. He caught up to her but did not attempt to restrain her. He halted abruptly, his hands flying to his nose as the smell hit him. He shook himself before returning to her side. There was a blade in his hand as he walked next to her, his eyes alert for anything moving in the forest.

  He was protecting her. Dawn’s heart sped up, pumping what little blood she had in her at an electric pace.

  The earth sloped downward just beyond the tree line to their right. The giant…Titanboa? Yeah, that sounded about right. It was stretched out between the trees, at the bottom of the hill.

  The buzz of flies and insects surrounded the carcass. There were some chunks of it that had been opened up and ripped away where other animals had feasted, but otherwise it was in good condition. She sensed no heartbeat pumping lifeblood inside it. This giant elephant of a snake was definitely dead.

  But Dawn still shivered. Disgusting snakes. They were worse when they were dead. Who knew?

  “By the Goddess,” Bell said, awe and fear in her voice. She and Kehn remained at the top of the slope.

  Dawn was already climbing down with Aaron. “I thought these things were common around here,” she said.

  “Aye, but this creature is massive, even by our standards,” Aaron answered. “This beast must have lived for no less than four centuries to have grown to this size. It has many scars on it, a sign of past battles,” he said, pointing his gloved finger along said scars which Dawn did her best to not look at.

  At least now she didn’t have to worry herself with thoughts of monster snakes coming to get her when she slept. Apparently, they weren’t all quite this size.

  “I can only pray my father is not at the bottom within the creature’s mouth,” Aaron muttered.

  “I don’t smell any elf blood,” she said, but that was mostly for comfort. She didn’t know what elf blood smelled like, and even if there were some, the amount of snake’s blood would have overpowered it anyway.

  The eye sockets of the creature were picked clean out, and it lay there,
motionless, eyeless, and with its jaw hung loose at a crooked angle. It was kind of an inappropriate time, but the fangs of the creature kind of reminded her of her own fangs, only instead of sucking back blood, they would be used to shoot out poison. The king was not caught within those teeth.

  “He’s not here, and I doubt he’s in its belly either,” she said to Aaron. “It’s too unlikely the king would’ve been eaten, and then immediately after this thing would simply drop dead.”

  Aaron returned his sword to its sheath. Kehn finally worked up the stones to rush down the slope, his boots not so much as disturbing the foliage on his descent. Bell remained where she was, eyes searching the distance.

  When Kehn got to the bottom and approached the dead snake, Dawn thought he meant to kick the carcass to confirm the death, but he crouched to examine it instead.

  “What do ye see?” Aaron asked. He grabbed Dawn’s arm when she moved forward for a better look.

  She eyed him questioningly. “It’s dead.”

  He looked to the snake, then to her, as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him when he grabbed her.

  “Look,” she said, whispering so she wouldn’t embarrass him in front of his friends. “I’m not sure how it works here, but where I come from, my kind don’t need protecting from every little thing.” The snake might gross her out, but so long as it was dead, she was okay. Kind of.

  She might be spoiling a nice, sweet gesture that turned the burners on beneath her skin, but it needed to be said.

  His eyes flashed as he stared at her, amusement and laughter within them. “I’ll deem to remember that.”

  “Would the two lovers deem to pay attention?” Kehn called. Although they hadn’t been standing all that close, Dawn found herself all but leaping away from Aaron.

  “Stab wounds from your father’s sword,” Kehn said, pointing at the various clean slices between the ripped out bits of flesh.

  Aaron stepped closer to the head of the creature, searching for something. With a leather boot, he kicked the head, turning it limply over for a better look at the goings-on beneath it.