“Yes.” A pause. “We are essential. I can alter stone and mud. You can help the life of Earth. Together, we may fix. A mage would help, but Baza refused to leave the island. Useless reptile.”
Aris shook his head. Even in her dragon form, Kezari’s body emitted warmth. He wouldn’t classify dragons as mammals, but they were warm-blooded, more like birds that had scales instead of feathers. The best he could tell, dragons used the association with reptiles as an insult. The gleaming blue dragon he’d seen in her thoughts had earned Kezari’s rancor. If they’d been friends, they weren’t any longer.
“Perhaps an elven mage would help. My wife…” The mental image of Selia’s face sent a wave of pain through him until he clenched his fingers around the saddle. His weak left arm protested the strength of his grip, but the ache was an effective distraction. “You’ll be able to find help, I’m certain.”
Kezari turned her head, her gaze fastening on his face for a moment before returning to the skies. “I thought you were unmated.”
“I was married before my capture.” Aris closed his eyes and let the wind wash around him. “I have no doubt she has chosen another after so much time.”
“I am sorry, skizik,” Kezari said. “I will rend Perim myself. There are ways to prolong the pain so that—”
“If you manage to find her, kill her quickly.” Aris shuddered. “I’ll have no part in torture. Neither of us should be like her.”
“If you insist,” Kezari answered placidly.
Aris wasn’t certain he believed her easy acquiescence, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He didn’t want to dwell on anything, really. As the mountains rolled by, he tried not to imagine what would happen when they reached Braelyn—and not because of the dragon. He’d learned from Kezari that seven years had passed since he’d left home. Seven years without seeing any of his own people. But he didn’t want to be around any of them now.
He could only hope that no one would try to confine him. Losing control around Kezari was bad enough, but doing so in front of some of the most important people in Moranaia would certainly lead to disaster. Especially after arriving on a dragon. Then again, it might be a quick way to die. The Taysonal guarding Braelyn would be skilled and efficient archers. An arrow to the eye and—
Kezari’s voice cut sharply across his mind. “No. Die and I go with you. We are linked this cycle of the moons. Longer, if we should decide such.”
“A soulbonded often survives the death of his or her mate unless the bond is incomplete,” Aris argued. “Why couldn’t you?
“As I’ve said before, this is not a soulbond.” The dragon’s wings snapped sharply with each beat. “Live out this cycle or kill us both.”
His body shook with the helpless anger her words brought. Days. He’d planned to give her a few days. “Why not break the link now?”
“I cannot,” she said. “Only the moons’ full turning brings the time of choice.”
“Choice,” he snarled aloud.
She’d taken away his final and best escape from this hell. Consigned him to suffer through this nightmare of a life for another twenty days when he hadn’t been certain he could even make it to Braelyn. His fingers quivered around the edge of the saddle as darkness teased the edges of his vision. Control yourself. Control this. He’d survived years of torment. He could last a month to save Kezari.
“We’d better be camping in the woods,” Aris sent. “I am uncertain how much I can handle.”
Her lack of response was no reassurance.
Chapter 2
Selia spun the glowing ball with a quick thought, examining each side of the enchantment. She’d started with a spell she’d learned for subduing the wild plains cats, but that was far from strong enough to contain a being as powerful as a dragon. She’d added enchantments designed to nullify magical talents and immobilize powerful prisoners. What else might the spell need?
After searching through her mental catalogue of prepared spells, Selia grasped a sleep spell and cobbled it carefully onto the ball. On a creature with the size and strength of a dragon, it was unlikely to work as intended, but it might provide drowsiness or dulled senses. If she had to use this spell, they’d need all the help they could get.
Another mark passed before she was satisfied with her work. Swiping away the sheen of sweat from her forehead, Selia settled the enchantment into a neat mental compartment. She would only need to trigger the symbols of power to release the spell when necessary. Whether it would work on a dragon was anyone’s guess. She had been well-trained, but not even the most conscientious teacher had thought to prepare for something like this.
They’d been at peace with the dragons for almost forty thousand years, after all.
Selia slumped, glancing at the water clock with a frown. After all of her fussing at Iren, here she was, awake at the twenty-fifth mark. In five more marks, it would be dawn. Well, at least her lesson with Arlyn and Iren didn’t begin right at dawn. If she went to bed immediately, she could get the rest needed to handle two inexperienced students.
She shoved to her feet and grabbed her cloak from its hook before heading back out into the gardens. The second moon was near to setting, so the forest had gone dark. Only a few dim mage lights illuminated the trails as she returned to the main part of the estate. Cold rushed around her, and she huddled more deeply into her cloak.
With the hour so late, a guard stood sentry at the back door. Ah, Febith. He smiled and nodded, a gleam of attraction in his eyes, but Selia only gave a polite smile and nod in return as she hurried inside. She didn’t know him well, and she hadn’t been able to summon any interest during their few exchanges. She might never be ready for a relationship, at least not for a few more decades, and she didn’t want to give a false hope.
She wouldn’t risk hurting someone the way she’d hurt Aris.
Selia tried to bury that thought the way she had for the last couple of years, but Iren’s earlier words haunted her. Her son would never say so, but she could tell that he missed having a father. Some day he would want to know more about what had happened with Aris, and she would have to confess the truth.
Iren’s father might still be alive if not for her.
Her beloved had had a wild, free spirit, perhaps because of his link with nature. He’d been an explorer before they’d met and remained an explorer after. Selia hadn’t begrudged him his expeditions, even when they’d lasted months at a time. Those trips were essential for his soul, and she’d had her own work as a magic teacher. She’d missed him, of course, and she had worried, since there was a fair bit of danger in the unexplored parts of Moranaia, but few had the talent and desire to uncover the secrets of their world the way Aris had. Over the centuries, he’d discovered and catalogued several species of plants and animals. Some of the maps their people used bore his signature.
Then Iren had been born. Aris had been happy to stay close during the early years, but around their son’s fourth birthday, the first of the great ocean ships had been completed. He’d been invited to go on the initial voyage, a month-long journey to test the ship, and for days, they’d debated what he should do. Her beloved had wanted to remain behind with his family, but Selia had seen the tension radiating through him, that drive to explore that often came upon him.
And she understood it. Despite tens of thousands of years on this planet, her people had still barely explored a quarter of the world. They reproduced so slowly that it had taken millennia before the Moranaians had settled throughout the more habitable regions of the continent where they’d emerged. Only then had they looked toward the oceans and given real effort toward crossing. But they were not natural sailors, and the sea was too rough for fishing boats. Their new ships were revolutionary. Of course Aris had wanted to go.
So she’d talked him into the journey he’d decided against.
When a storm blew up unexpectedly, the vessel had been dashed on one of the western islands, leaving only two survivors. Aris hadn’t been one of the
m. How could she tell Iren that his father wouldn’t have been on that voyage if not for her? The accident itself had been out of her control, it was true, but she couldn’t help feeling responsible. Even after all this time.
Drooping with weariness, Selia pushed into her room and flung her cloak across a chair. She would pick it up in the morning—hopefully before Iren noticed her carelessness and used it as an excuse to clutter his own room. Right now, she needed rest. Maybe sleep would give her the strength to rebury the past.
There was nowhere to go but forward.
“If you insist on coming with me, then you’ll have to wear clothes,” Aris said.
Kezari’s head tilted. “Elves are not ashamed of their bodies. Or they once were not.”
“It isn’t shame.” Or for most, it wasn’t. If he considered the question for himself, his mind might fracture. Again. “In this weather, a naked woman would cause as much comment as a dragon. And as much as I appreciate the care you have given me, I would like to eat something not roasted by your breath. I’ll go alone if you don’t create yourself some clothes.”
Her hair rippled as she shifted her shoulders in a motion almost like a shrug. “Very well.”
Aris glanced away as power glowed around her, then checked her appearance once the light settled. A thin sleeveless dress flowed around her, beautiful but insufficient for the weather. “Kezari…”
“I cannot bear much in the way of bindings,” she said. “I produce too much heat.”
He winced at her choice of words but forced his mind away from the images that bindings had evoked. Not now. Not now. “It’ll do,” he answered. Better to get on with their tasks than to think. “No stranger than I look, I imagine.”
The long-sleeved tunic and cloak Kezari had made for him didn’t match the pants he’d found in the cave, and they no doubt resembled nothing in current Moranaian fashion. His ancestors might have worn something in this cut and fabric—if a dragon had designed it. Severe, almost scale-like… Between his clothes and her dress, he and Kezari were certain to draw notice.
Well, nothing for it.
They’d landed a fair distance from the village huddled in a small valley, so it was a long, chilly walk to find the tavern likely to be in the center. Though the cold increased the ache in his already sore muscles, Aris didn’t pull his cloak tight. Nothing tight. He’d experienced worse conditions over the years, before and after capture. Kezari appeared unbothered by the weather, but he’d come to realize that she didn’t always show what she felt. She might be able to shapeshift, but she hadn’t yet learned the non-verbal expressions that he took for granted.
The late time meant few people wandered the trails even in the center of town. Those who did invariably stopped to stare, but Aris ignored their rudeness. Their opinions meant nothing. So long as he and Kezari didn’t draw enough attention to get the local lord or lady involved, he didn’t care. The dragon had her own goals, but for himself? He wanted a solid meal and a set of clothes created by elven hands. It was the least he deserved for agreeing to this mad journey to Braelyn.
Only two of the ten tables were occupied in the tavern Aris found. Four pairs of eyes turned his way as the door swung shut behind him, and he scanned each face for signs of hostility or danger. He found only surprise and curiosity. After a few heartbeats and a sound from the barkeeper at the back, the four returned their attention to their drinks.
Aris skirted around them, careful to remain out of reach, and settled at a table in the far corner. Though he was able to sit with his back to the wall with the door in sight, a sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead at being enclosed, even in a building. He’d hoped an elven-made structure would be different. But no. He swallowed down the rising bile and took steady breaths until the feeling passed.
Then the woman appeared.
He barely heard Kezari settle into the chair beside him. The scrape of wood against floor was drowned out by his heartbeat as the pale-haired female approached from an archway in the other corner. Nothing about her was threatening. Her face held a friendly smile, and she weaved her way jauntily through the tables. The energy flowing from her was open and kind. But that white-blond hair…
As his vision began to gray around the edges, Kezari’s warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. “It is not Perim.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But she’s still free. Maybe tracking me. What if—”
“I would detect her, skizik.” Heat surged from Kezari’s hand, shocking him abruptly from his panic. “My cousin hunts her while we seek the leader of Braelyn. Justice will be served by claw or tooth.”
She’d said so before, but her assertion did nothing to ease his fear.
Shame flooded him until he averted his face from the dragon’s astute regard. He would never be whole again. If he couldn’t even go into a blasted tavern, how could he survive for another month? It was impossible.
What did any of it matter, anyway? It wasn’t like he could return to his family if he did prevail over his inner turmoil. Selia had surely remarried. So many had died in the shipwreck that had sent him drifting on the sea that he would have been counted in their number, especially after his long absence. It was better not to bring chaos and conflict to her current life or that of his son.
Better for Aris to be dead than that.
“Good day to you,” a cheerful female voice said, but Aris didn’t glance up. He couldn’t. “What may I get for you?”
“I will have only roasted meat,” Kezari said. “He will have a variety of other elven foodstuffs.”
Unexpectedly, Aris found himself stifling a laugh. A laugh, of all things. They’d better eat and go, for there was no way the local authorities wouldn’t be contacted at this rate. When the silence began to stretch, he risked a look up at the woman. Her befuddled stare shifted between Kezari and him.
“Elven foodstuffs?” she asked slowly.
Aris focused on her eyes—brown, not green—and tried to ignore her pale hair. “Please forgive my friend. She is not from Moranaia. I’ll take whatever warm meal you have available. She meant to say that I’m not picky.”
The woman relaxed, and her smile returned. “It’s getting late, but there’s still plenty of stew. I’ll need to see about the roasted meat.”
As the serving woman headed back toward the kitchen, Aris slumped in his seat. This had been a terrible idea. He’d considered camping in the forest beyond the village for the rest of the night, but after the disaster of this trip, it would be better if they moved on at once. In such a small village, their oddness would not go unremarked for long. And it was a small step from being noticed to being challenged by the guards.
Perhaps he and Kezari could camp on a distant mountain. A very distant mountain.
Thankfully, the tavern keeper had a portion of roasted daeri left over from the evening meal, so both Aris and Kezari were able to eat. Aris kept his head down, trying to savor the stew but ultimately shoveling it in as though he’d just returned from a long mission to the southern desert. A simple stew had never tasted so divine.
As they stood, Kezari dropped two valuable gems, sought after for their rainbow hues and durability, on the tabletop. He lifted a brow. “Food does not cost that much.”
She frowned. “One should always pay well for excellent nourishment.”
With a shake of his head, Aris pressed one of the gems back into her palm. Even one was excessive, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t take both. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Because once the serving lady found the treasure, the rumors about him and Kezari would grow exponentially.
They reached the exit before the woman hailed them. “Milord. Milady. This is too—”
“Please keep it,” Aris interrupted before she could mention the value of the jewel. Best if the other patrons didn’t overhear the woman’s good fortune. “Your kindness is well appreciated.”
He urged Kezari out the door before he received an answer.
A few marks la
ter, Kezari circled a remote portion of the mountains and then landed in a large clearing. Tiny flakes of snow drifted around them, tossed from the clouds by the cold air, but the ground wasn’t yet cool enough even at this elevation for the flakes to stick. Miserable regardless, but he’d faced worse.
“I’ll gather wood for a fire,” he said.
“No need.” Kezari nodded her wedge-shaped head toward the nearby line of trees. “Let’s settle by the forest. If you sleep against me, you’ll be more than warm enough.”
The ground vibrated beneath his feet from the weight of her steps as Aris followed the dragon to the tree line. She curled up beneath a large tree, the branches still holding enough leaves to block some of the snow. After a brief hesitation, he settled in the space between her foreleg and chest, and sure enough, blessed warmth suffused him, easing the ever-present ache in his body. She curved her wing in front of him, enough to block the wind but not confine.
He couldn’t quite relax, but he wasn’t panicking, either.
Aris tipped his head back against her chest. There was much he didn’t understand and even more he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But if he closed his eyes, he would be back in the cave, tormented once more. He gripped his knees until his hands stopped shaking. Asking Kezari questions could prove painful, but it was also a needed distraction.
“Tell me about the mark on my chest. About being a skizik. I’m not even sure what the word means.”
“Ah, yes.” Kezari turned her face toward the forest, though her mental voice sounded thoughtful more than upset. “Long ago, dragons recruited helpers. We are elemental, more so than your kind, but our elements are frequently…incomplete. A skizik is the other portion of the element, one you’ve joined magics with. It requires no mating or soulbond, but you do have to merge minds and powers.”
He frowned at her explanation. “It makes no sense for your kind to be reliant on elves for complete powers.”
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