Caress of Fire (Dawn of Dragons Book 2)

by Mary Auclair

  All eyes went to him, and Fedryc understood the man knew what he was doing by calling the attention of everyone in the place to his presence. Fedryc had no doubt that the High Lord of Aalstad would not be well received in a hovel like this one, and that it wouldn’t take a lot to incite these men to violence against him. They had no idea that a Draekon Lord could kill them all easily.

  Fedryc made his way inside the place under the openly hostile stares of the customers, his eyes holding each glare until the other man looked away. Finally, he came to stand over a round table at which the thin Delradon man sat, his crimson eyes gleaming with fake awe. A row of rotten yellow teeth showed as a wicked, servile smile pulled his thin lips apart, and Fedryc shook off his impulse to turn away and leave the repulsive place behind.

  “Are you Ignio Marula?” Fedryc stood in front of the Delradon man, his hand twitching near his sword hilt, itching with the desire to draw the weapon out.

  “That I am, my Lord.” Ignio Marula widened his smile, giving the appearance of a snake opening its mouth. “And what can the humble Ignio Marula do for the new High Lord of Aalstad?”

  “I am here to retrieve the brother of my Draekarra, a young human named Devan Jansen,” Fedryc stated, his eyes missing nothing of the perverse glee in Ignio Marula’s eyes.

  “Your new Draekarra? That is great news. Great news, indeed. It would be an honor to have you sit at my table.”

  Ignio Marula gestured to the seat opposite him and Fedryc reluctantly sat, fully aware that the room full of men was at his back. Ignio Marula leaned on the table on his elbows, his foul, acrid breath reaching all the way to Fedryc. His face lost its smile and turned into a predatory stare.

  “Where is Devan Jansen?” Fedryc bored his gaze into the thug’s eyes, hoping to intimidate the old criminal into obedience. It took less than a second for him to understand it wouldn’t work. Ignio Marula was fully aware of the leverage he had against Fedryc, and by giving him the news that Marielle was his Draekarra, he had but ensured that the thug would try to get as much as possible for Devan’s life. It mattered not. He would retrieve the foolish boy alive for Marielle’s sake, no matter the cost.

  “Oh, don’t worry about the boy.” Ignio Marula straightened and made a jerky motion to the sour-faced man behind the bar. “He’s here, under my protection.”

  “I will retrieve him then.”

  Fedryc leaned back on his seat as the sour-faced man put two grimy looking glasses on the table alongside a bottle filled with brown liquid.

  “I would love nothing more than to hand him to you, my Lord.” Ignio Marula spoke with a pained expression, like he truly wanted nothing more than to help. “But the boy has a debt, you know. And any man of honor knows a debt has to be repaid.”

  “I am aware of Devan Jansen’s debt.”

  Ignio Marula filled the two glasses to the brim and pushed one toward Fedryc, spilling some liquid across the table until it dripped onto the soft leather of his pants. Fedryc ignored the drink, even as Ignio Marula drank half his glass in a single gulp, then snapped his lips in apparent pleasure before wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

  “I will repay you and any expenses you incurred while he was under your care.”

  Fedryc spit out the word ‘care’ with all the aversion he felt for the man, and was rewarded when Ignio Marula’s civilized façade dropped to reveal the ugliness of the man hidden inside. His face twisted, lining his mouth in wrinkles, and his crimson eyes reduced to slits as the smile on his face morphed into a cruel sneer.

  “It almost sounds as if you don’t respect me, my Lord.” Ignio Marula articulated each word carefully. “I am a man to be respected in these parts. You need men like me to keep these animals in line.”

  “The only animal I see here sits in front of me.”

  Fedryc’s words had the effect of a slap on Ignio Marula’s entire demeanor. Violence gleamed in his eyes and he jumped to his feet. “Horacio, Rela,” Ignio Marula shouted, not taking his eyes off Fedryc. “Bring me Devan Jansen.”

  A few loud thumps followed by a man’s moans of pain made Fedryc look up, despite the threat around him. A door opened just at the top of the stairs, and a young man—still more a boy than a man—appeared in the doorframe, held by the scruff of the neck by a large Delradon man with a hard, scarred face. Behind him was a painfully thin woman, who stood too far in the shadows for Fedryc to see with any clarity.

  It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Devan Jansen, and Devan Jansen was an inch from death.

  Devan had the same flaming red curly hair and pale skin as Marielle, but the comparison stopped there. One eye was completely gone in a mangle of flesh and blood, while the other stared blankly in front of him as if in a nightmare. It was obvious from the boy’s heavy limp and his moans of pain that he couldn’t put weight on his left ankle, which bent at a sickening angle. His right arm curved impossibly inward and was obviously broken.

  Wrath took hold of Fedryc as he brought his stare back to Ignio Marula. The thug stood, the sneer on his face as broad as the hole in his soul.

  “As you see, my Lord, I took great care of the boy.”

  Ignio Marula chuckled, and a chorus of sick laughs echoed behind Fedryc, reminding him of the danger surrounding him and Devan. Fedryc could take care of the humans and Delradon if they were foolish enough to attack, but protecting Devan at the same time was another thing, and somehow, he knew Marielle would never forgive him if her brother died.

  Ignio Marula was a dead man walking, but Fedryc had to wait. He had to secure Devan before making his move on the thug and his men.

  “Here is your money,” Fedryc said as he threw a small leather pouch on the table before standing up as well. “Consider the debt repaid and let’s part ways.”

  To his right, Devan let out a screech as the scarred-faced Delradon man pushed him down the steps and the boy’s body fell with a sickening noise of broken bones. The woman standing behind the Delradon screamed and squeezed her slim body past the thug then hurtled down the steps within a few seconds, landing just by Devan. From this proximity, Fedryc could see her now. She was young, as young as Devan, and strikingly pretty despite her painful thinness. Her hair was dirty and dark, tucked behind pointed ears, but as she looked up at him with pleading eyes, they shone brown and vivid.

  A child of mixed blood, then.

  “Please, my Lord, save my Devan,” the girl pleaded between sobs as Devan moaned in pain on the wooden floor.

  “Shut up, whore.” Ignio Marula took a step to the side and a violent slap made the girl fall down on her stomach, but she crawled over Devan’s body protectively as Ignio Marula sent a kick to her ribs. “You waste of blood. Sordied sangui.”

  Fedryc’s face lost all warmth as he stared at Ignio Marula, the old words of the Knat-Kanassis coming out of the thug’s mouth like pure poison.

  “What did you say?” Fedryc took a single step toward the man, his hand on the hilt of his sword, pulling the dragon-forged blade halfway out.

  “Sordied sangui, mors abomina!” Ignio Marula shouted.

  Then the entire room erupted in blood and violence. Fedryc pulled his sword as men shouted and screamed behind him, and the scarred-faced Delradon man jumped down to the ground, his face splitting in two with a fierce smirk. A wicked, curved blade shone in the thug’s large hands as he stood in front of Fedryc. Three interwoven half-circles were tattooed inside the man’s wrist. The mark of Sacer Sangui. The pure of blood.

  Knat-Kanassis. This was the symbol for Knat-Kanassis.

  In a fast motion, the thug bent over Devan’s limp body as the girl screamed in fear, finally pulling away from the boy, her eyes fixed with terror on the blade.

  There was only one thing to justify such fear.

  Venemum Ardere. My father was killed with Venemum Ardere.

  It was the only poison capable of killing a Draekon or his dragon with a single cut, and had always been the Knat-Kanassis’ weapon of choice to eliminate any
Draekon who stood up to them. This made so much sense, but Fedryc couldn’t take the time to think about anything else as Ignio Marula quickly bent and grabbed the girl, the pouch of money already in his grip. Two more Delradon men, the symbol of the order also inside their wrists, appeared from a doorway tucked behind the bar and grabbed Devan roughly by the shoulders, then pulled him away as he whimpered weakly, barely holding on to the thread of life.

  Fedryc made a move to go after them but the scarred-faced Delradon man lifted his poisoned blade, stopping him in his tracks. Before Fedryc could react, the door slammed shut behind Ignio Marula and Devan Jansen.

  “You are a traitor to your blood,” the scarred-face man muttered, his deadly blade making a large arc as Fedryc held his own dragon-forged blade high. “And now you will rejoin your traitor father.”

  Wrath coursed through Fedryc’s veins as he understood what the man meant.

  A noise came from behind him and Fedryc twisted to the side, his dragon blade slicing clean through another of Ignio Marula’s men’s stomach. The unnamed Delradon fell to the floor with a wet sound, and the scarred-faced Delradon man’s blade came down fast on Fedryc from the other side. Fedryc parried the hit easily but he was still turning his back to the fight.

  Another deadly arc and Fedryc parried another blow.

  Time melted into slow motion as Fedryc parried the scarred-faced man’s surprisingly skillful attacks. None of the hits were aimed to be fatal, but were designed to slice through a hand, an arm, a leg. All it would take was a nick, and Fedryc would be as good as dead. Fedryc had to turn and twist to slice through less skillful but armed enemies at his back, until finally, the door to the establishment exploded in a great burst of dust and wood splinters.

  Henron’s war cry resonated in the sudden cloud of dust and his guards poured in after him, slicing through fighters one after the other while leaving cowering humans alone.

  “To the High Lord!” Henron yelled over the shouts of battle.

  Fedryc whirled on the scarred-faced man, the years of training taking over as his sword parried up and down in a frenzy of slicing and stabbing blows. His opponent took a step back, his face no longer confident and bloodthirsty but full of doubt and fear as Fedryc finally sliced into his sword hand. The poisonous blade fell to the floor with a metallic clang and Fedryc kicked the man squarely in the chest. His heavy body hit the floor and the man screamed.

  “Now, you tell me who controls the Knat-Kanassis in my kingdom, or you die.”

  Fedryc brought his sword above his head for the killing blow just as the scarred-faced man reached inside his shirt. A small blade shone in the dim light and Fedryc understood his error. The man had another poisoned blade.

  A sword pierced through the air, embedding deep in the man’s chest, right through his breastbone, piercing his heart and killing him instantly. Blood came up from the man’s mouth as a confused look in his eyes gave way to the blankness of death.

  Fedryc sighed, bringing his sword down.

  “They took Devan.” Henron stared at his men, then at the door through which Ignio Marula and the others had vanished.

  “Marielle will be upset.” Fedryc inhaled and his nostrils were assailed by the smell of men soiling themselves as they died. “The boy was hurt.”

  “How hurt?” Henron came to stand by his side.

  “He won’t survive long if I don’t take him away, and soon.”

  The words fell between them and Fedryc could feel Henron’s gaze on him. His old friend knew how he felt, what he thought. And he wasn’t wrong.

  “You saved my life,” Fedryc said to Henron without turning around. “I am grateful.”

  “As you should be!” Henron retorted in the way only he could, reaching over the body and pulling his sword free. “You should have called for reinforcements. You could have been killed.”

  “They had Marielle’s brother. They still do.” Fedryc shook his head as he wiped his bloody blade clean on a corpse’s clothes. “And Devan is not the worst of our problems.”

  Fedryc kicked the scarred-faced man’s hand, revealing the mark of the Knat-Kanassis tattooed inside his wrist. Henron opened his mouth to answer but his eyes grew wide and he stepped closer. He stared for a long time, then swallowed.

  “Knat-Kanassis?” Henron brought his shocked gaze back to Fedryc. “Here?”

  “Here.” Fedryc made a wide gesture as more of his men noticed the marks on the fighter’s wrists and spoke amongst themselves in angry, muted tones. “This one had Venemum Ardere on his blades. He all but told me it was they who killed my father.”

  “Ignio Marula killed Lord Aymond?” Henron frowned with confusion but anger made its way to his face.

  “No.” Fedryc shook his head. “Ignio Marula doesn’t have the power to stage a coup like that. Someone else planned all this, someone else is leading the Knat-Kanassis in Aalstad and wants to take power for themselves. Someone close, too close for comfort.”

  “So it’s a conspiracy, then.”

  “Yes, my friend.” Fedryc sheathed his sword and walked over the Delradons’ bodies until he felt the outside air on his face. “The Knat-Kanassis want my kingdom, and my Draekarra.”

  Nyra’s roar echoed through the air as the dragoness flew overhead, her scales as bright and red as his own fury.

  Chapter 13

  Pain and fear mixed together in a cold shroud around her body, and all she could think of was Devan.

  “I have to go back!” Marielle tried to move against Fedryc’s hold but he was too strong and she couldn’t fight his arms around her shoulders. “He needs me!”

  “I am so sorry, my little firebrand.” Fedryc spoke soft and low against her hair, but didn’t loosen his hold on her. “Henron will find him again. He has people looking out for him all over the capital.”

  “But they won’t find him, I know it. Ignio Marula will hide him so deep only someone who knows the slums will be able to dig him out.”

  Despair filled Marielle’s lungs and her arms suddenly stopped pushing against the restraint of Fedryc’s hold. Tears flowed down her cheeks freely and she collapsed. Fedryc’s arms held her up, safely, against his strong body.

  “He’s hurt and he’s all alone.”

  She couldn’t stop the images from flowing through her mind. Did Ignio Marula push Devan into that horrible hole in the ground with another man, knowing full well only one would come out? Did he use Devan as training bait for other fighters, hanging him from the ceiling like a punching bag?

  Memories flooded her mind, and Marielle fell victim to the power of her past.

  He was small for a ten-year-old, and his flaming red, curly hair and splash of freckles made him look even younger. Big gray eyes looked up to her with distress and Marielle’s fingers clenched on the bodice of her dress.

  “What are we going to do now?” The boy’s voice shook with tears. “We’re all alone.”

  “No, we’re not.” The lie burned her tongue but Marielle knelt in front of Devan, her fingers wrapping around his hand, forcing him to look at her. “We have each other.”

  Devan’s big, sorrowful gray eyes latched onto her. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, grief raged like a storm, shattering her heart into a thousand little pieces, but her mouth stretched into a smile.

  “What does Dad always say?” How could her voice not break? Marielle didn’t know. All she knew was this tiny boy, frail and scared, was all she had left in the world. And she would not let him go.

  “That we have to look out for each other,” Devan answered, his pain brimming to the surface, but his fingers holding hers hard. “That we won’t be alone as long as we have each other.”

  “Yes, that’s what he would say.” Marielle’s smile stayed strong but inside her ribs, her young heart was breaking. “So we’ll do just that. I’m going to work at the hotel, they’re always looking for more girls to clean the rooms. You go to school, and you stay out of trouble. All right?”

  Devan cast a wi
de look around the single room with its tattered furniture, two twin beds and old wood stove. “Okay.” He nodded to her, and from somewhere inside his tiny, courageous heart, he found the strength to smile.

  And Marielle understood her childhood was over.

  Fedryc pulled her out of the grip of the past with his hand on her chin. “He’s not alone,” he told her, pulling her away so he could look into her eyes. “There’s a girl there, one who works for Ignio Marula. She cares for him, and I believe she will help him.”

  “A girl?” Marielle frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “A child of mixed blood, about the same age as your brother. She was at the Watering Hole when I came to claim Devan from Ignio Marula. I think she cares for him.”

  “She is Ignio Marula’s niece. Her name is Rela.” Marielle shivered despite Fedryc’s warmth because she understood it all now. Why Devan had taken all those risks, why he’d been so desperate to find money. It all made sense, so why did she want to scream? “Devan told me he needed to help a friend out of trouble, but I brushed it aside, telling him we had enough of our troubles without handing money over to strangers. It was for her. That’s why he tried to gamble with what little money he had.”

  Fedryc frowned at her words and Marielle knew he didn’t understand. He didn’t see the monster for who he was.

  “If Rela is Ignio Marula’s family, then surely, she was well taken care of? The man is rich enough.”

  “You don’t understand.” Marielle shook her head. Fedryc was so honorable, he didn’t see how deep Ignio Marula’s rot went. “Rela is the daughter of Ignio Marula’s sister. His sister died when Rela was only two. Ignio Marula had her husband killed soon after, for defying him when he married his sister. He took Rela in but he always hated the girl for being a mixed-blood child. She has been working for him since she was old enough to hold a broom.”

  “Then he truly is a monster.” Fedryc cursed under his breath in Delradon, and although she did not understand his words, she knew the meaning of his outrage from his tone and the way the vein pulsed at his temple.