by Wendy Koenig
The man who held Fiera said, “You know what to do. He’s a griffin, so use your bows.”
The fat man nodded and hurried back toward Efar and Gwen. More men appeared, some pulling bows, arrows, and swords as they followed the agent.
Fiera jerked on her arm, but it was held like a vise. “You’re going to kill them anyway!”
He looked down at her for the first time since he’d taken her and, though it was dark, she read something...sad...in his eyes. “Yes. I’m sorry, but it’s necessary.” He picked up the pace.
At a half-run to match his long strides, she asked, “Necessary? Why? For what?”
He pressed his mouth into a thin line and didn’t answer.
There had to be something she could do! How could she warn Efar? Would the man beside her hear if she spoke to Captain? There was only one way to find out. While watching the dragon man, she spoke to the horse. Can you hear me?
Captain answered immediately. Fiera, where are you? I was so scared! How’d you get away from the dragon?
The dragon man gave no hint he’d heard a single bit of the conversation.
Captain, listen. This is important. The dragon man has taken me as his prisoner. He already has Marie. He’s sent soldiers to kill Efar and Gwen. Find a way to help them. Then you have to convince them to follow you to where I’m going to be held.
The horse didn’t respond.
Captain, do you understand?
There was a long moment of silence before the horse answered. I have to fight? Are they shifters?
You’re a war horse. Act like one.
Fine! But no one better eat me.
Fiera closed her eyes, rushing along at the dragon man’s side. Even in a crisis the horse was difficult. Well, it was the best she could do for her friends until she could get herself and Marie free.
She sensed a change in the air around her and she popped open her eyes again. The man beside her was growing at a fantastic rate. Not as fast as she’d seen Efar, but still quick. His clothes were splitting, not just at the seams, but right across the cloth. His head and neck became long like a horse, only finer. Lizard-like skin covered wings that sprouted from his shoulder blades, pushing the shreds of his tunic off, while sharp bumps rose from his backbone. His pants tore apart from the width of his legs and the tail protruding from the top of his hips.
Long scythe-like claws pushed out from the hand that gripped her arm. The hand grew larger and larger, until it completely engulfed her whole arm. The dragon was huge! She’d never seen any living thing so large. It was bigger than Gwen’s barn, by far. And, she almost thought its skin was blue. But that could have been her imagination.
It wrapped its clawed hand around her waist and lifted into the night sky.
Chapter 7
Efar had watched slack-jawed as Fiera, the woman he loved and who somehow made sense as a mate to his griffin, had walked away beside Dragon Prince Bartheleme, only son of King Cynan The Mighty.
With his eagle vision, he had followed their progress until they stepped beneath a lamplight and spoke with the fat agent who’d been plaguing Fiera since Midden. Then, as the two continued on, the agent strode toward where Efar waited with Gwen. Now, men joined from the shadows, pulling long swords and more than a few dangerous bows.
Efar turned to Gwen. “Get Marie and hide where no one will find you. Then, in a day or two, when they stop looking for you, head southeast out of town into the griffin territory. Tell them Efar sent you.”
Panic filled her eyes as she, too, saw the approaching mob, but she remained rooted to the spot. “What about you?”
He turned from her, back to watch the oncoming group of armed men as it continued to swell. “I’ll hold them off so you have enough time. Then, I mean to find out what’s going on with Fiera. Now, Run!” Without waiting to see if she obeyed, he exploded into the griffin.
He’d never shifted that fast and the pain lanced through the marrow of his bones, raced through his body like a raging fire, and scored his mind. He would have fallen if not for the instincts of the beast. All around him, tiny tatters of his makeshift clothing flittered to the ground like snowflakes. Beside him, he heard the tall woman gasp. Then she ran.
Gathering his senses, Efar charged the oncoming horde. He stayed on the ground so the arrows wouldn’t do as much damage and he could use the men in front as cover as he rushed them, putting every ounce of energy into his legs. At the last second, he raised mere inches off the ground, tucking his head and legs beneath his wings, and bowled right into the center mass, knocking men left and right. Snapping his wings open, he clubbed any unlucky soul nearby who rose, while he snaked his neck around to grip the fat agent’s shoulder with his beak, crushing it with a satisfying crunch. The man dropped to the ground beside his sword, screaming.
The sound of charging hooves reached his ears above the cries of the injured men. Then, a pair of dark grey hooves crashed down on the head of an archer from the edge of the mass.
Captain!
Faced with two adversaries, most of the attacking men hesitated for a brief second, trying to decide which was the most formidable. That was all Efar needed. He sucked in a great draft of air and bellowed a war cry as loud as he could. The sound echoed off the nearby buildings, amplifying the ferocity. Many men covered their ears. Most ran. The few that remained dropped their weapons and hesitantly reached to help the injured.
Efar relaxed and shifted back to human. He wouldn’t waste time dressing when he’d be flying again soon. Still naked, he stepped around fallen mercenaries and approached Captain. “Thank you, my friend, for joining in the fight with me. Now I need you to go help Marie.” He pointed in the direction Gwen had gone.
The horse violently shook his head, ears slanted back in negation. He swung his head at his back.
“Fiera sent you, didn’t she? She wants you to show me where he’s taking her. But, I already know he’ll fly her back to his father’s castle. I’ll be flying, so you won’t be able to keep up. Marie needs protection. Now, go. Tell Fiera I’m right behind them.”
The horse reared, pivoting on his haunches. He bolted toward Gwen’s house.
Efar changed once more into his weary griffin and climbed into the dark night, following Fiera and the Royal Dragon Prince Bartheleme.
****
Fiera squirmed in the grip of the giant dragon. Cool night air ripped past her in waves every time the beast flapped its wings. They skimmed inches above the dark points of living trees. She was sure she could reach down and touch them. The ominous black shapes of mountains loomed on the horizon. There was no other creature to share the moon and stars with them.
Fiera, can you still hear me? It was Captain.
Yes, but I don’t know for how much longer.
We defeated the soldiers. You should have seen me! The first man swung his sword at me, but I kicked him hard in the stomach and he fell to the ground vomiting. I think I might have nicked his ribs. Maybe broken one or two of them. The next man raised his bow, aiming at Efar, but I was behind him. I reared and—
Captain! Focus.
After a second’s hesitation, he continued, sullen notes in his ‘voice’. Efar is flying after you. He says he knows where you’re going. He sent me to protect Marie.
Marie has been captured already. She’s a prisoner of this dragon man, too!
No. She’s here. I’ve seen her. She’s safe.
Safe? She wanted to cry with the relief that flooded over her. Then, the white-hot poker of anger she’d pushed down inside since being abducted forced its way to the surface. She’d been tricked into betraying her friends. Tricked by this man who now held her captive.
Dragon, can you still hear me?
Why wouldn’t I?
I can only speak to animals in my mind.
You spoke to me as a man.
Yes, but I’ve never been able to speak to shifters before. Why now? Why you?
The dragon was silent. She squirmed again, trying to rea
rrange her ribs over the dragon’s knuckle, but to no avail. She sighed. There would be bruises. She looked up at the moon, her heart seething at her helplessness. In that moment, a shadow in the shape of a large bird crossed the face of the moon.
Efar had caught up to them.
Might I at least ride on top, Dragon? We’re too high for me to escape. If I try, I would fall to my death.
The dragon’s response was to tighten its talons around her body. The knuckle that had been offending her ribs slid across her back to dig into a new place on her other side.
You’re hurting me. Or do you intend to deliver me as a corpse?
The only sound was the heavy whup of the wings and the soft low moan as they moved up and down through the air.
At least, tell me why you want me.
When the dragon still didn’t answer, she sighed, seething over her predicament. She stared up at Efar. There had to be something she could do to help him. She couldn’t change the living cells of the dragon, but, if the talons, which were dead cells, were in the right place, she could change those into something else. She squirmed once more, hoping the dragon would reposition its grip again.
Above her, Efar folded back his wings, tucked his head, and dove toward them.
****
Efar twisted his dive toward the dragon below, as if he could drill right through the giant beast. That’s what he wanted to do; it had Fiera.
He would rip that monster apart for stealing her from him. All the world knew there was nothing as fierce as a wronged griffin. And this griffin had been very wronged. Fury lit across his body in a keen, knife-edged determination to free her. It added fuel to his dive, tightening his body into a slim projectile striking from above like lightning from Thor’s hammer. The wind whistled past him, his eyes teared from his speed, and his vision blurred.
In glimpses between flaps of the giant beast’s wings, he saw Fiera fighting in the dragon’s clutches, struggling to reach the hard nail of the talon. He saw her plan immediately—she hoped to free herself by changing the dead cells into something malleable.
Then she’d fall.
And he’d better be there to catch her.
He was almost on the dragon, a mere dozen feet away, when it turned, laying back on the night wind currents so that its wings and belly, with Fiera hugged tightly against it, faced the moon. A belch of fire erupted from its mouth, blinding in the night. Somehow, somewhere, it had found brimstone.
Efar’s speed made it impossible to stop. He tightened his corkscrew and used the shift it caused in his pattern to veer off to the right. The move wasn’t quite quick enough and Efar found himself flying through a sea of fire and sparks. A shock of pain seared across the left side of this body, and the air stank of brimstone, seared skin, and burnt feathers.
The sudden loss of feathers on Efar’s left wing meant he had no way to stabilize himself. The power dive that was meant to hammer the dragon drove Efar toward the ground. He did his best to slow and to angle his path so landing wouldn’t be so disastrous, but there was so little time.
Tree branches reached out to snag him, tearing the skin he had left, not helping him slow much. He slammed into the ground with a jarring crash, the cracks and pops of breaking bones and tearing ligaments loud in his ears.
As a rain of leaves and twigs fell down on him, in the brief split-second before he lost consciousness, he saw the dragon right itself, Fiera frantically scrambling for its talon.
He spoke a quiet prayer in her direction. “Please. No. Not now. I can’t catch you.”
Then it all went black.
****
Fiera stared down into the dark forest below. She could barely make out the pale form of the griffin, surrounded by broken branches and leaves as if in a nest.
Her heart stopped. Efar wasn’t moving.
Frantically, she resumed her scramble for the dragon’s talon. She wasn’t sure what she could turn it into that would make the creature let go of her. Something sharp, perhaps, so it would open its claw. If she could reach it. Leaning so far that her ribs dug against the dragon’s knuckle and stretching her arm as far as she could still made the talon a good six inches away.
Captain, can you hear me? She held her breath, hoping the distance between them wasn’t too great. Captain?
When there was no answer from the horse, unbidden tears welled up. Efar was alone now. There was no one to help him.
Savagely, she wiped the tears away. No. She would not cry!
There had been no tears all those years locked away in her parents’ home. There would be no tears now. Not when she’d done the things she had for love. The blame didn’t belong to her. It belonged to the foul beast clutching her. Somehow, some way, she’d make him pay for what he’d done.
The reptilian stench of the dragon filled her nostrils as she once again searched the trees below her. There had to be some animal nearby! Spying a group of bats flitting among the dark branches, she singled out a large one. You are a magnificent looking bat. I bet you fly far and fast.
Far and fast. The voice was high and hollow in Fiera’s head. It flew close, beating its wings frantically to keep up with the larger winged creature that held her, shying away each time the giant wings came close.
Might I trouble you for a favor? There’s a man-bird who’s fallen just over there. She pointed, not sure if the bat could pick up the gesture.
Man-bird who’s fallen. It darted back and forth, dodging between dragon wing thrusts, working its way closer to her.
He needs help from a friend in Chester. She gave a description of Gwen’s barn and house. The man-bird needs help right away or he may die.
Friend in Chester. Right away.
It didn’t leave.
Did the bat understand her? Or was it echoing her? Please help us. I’d like to think that if you’re ever in need of help, someone will help you.
For a moment all was silent except the wind moaning as the dragon’s wing cut through it. Then the bat took off in the direction of Chester, leaving this thought in her head: Friend in Chester.
She closed her eyes in silent thanks and whispered, “Hurry.”
As the dragon winged westward, the trees changed to fields and then hills. It breached the edge of the mountains and began to climb higher into the cool night air. The sun was rising in the east, behind them, and it cast a pink glow across the peaks.
A bone deep shiver settled into Fiera. She tried to still herself, but to no avail. The dragon, perhaps noticing her discomfort, tucked its claws close against its body. Held tight against the reptilian skin, the stench was nearly overwhelming. Yet, unlike other reptiles, the skin was warm as she huddled against it. What is your name? Efar knows you. Who are you?
The dragon hesitated before it answered. I am Prince Bartheleme, son of King Cynan The Mighty.
Fiera sucked in her breath. Captured by royalty. She seemed to be in bigger trouble than she thought. Why do you want me?
This time the dragon didn’t answer. As they climbed even higher to crest the last of the peaks, the shiver that had been driven out of Fiera by the warmth of the dragon took over again.
Without hesitation, the dragon rolled its neck so that it could face her. It opened its mouth and threw out a small stream of fire far enough below her so she didn’t burn. The sulfurous heat enveloped her and her chill immediately melted away.
If the Prince was going to kill her, why see to her comfort? He was making a mistake keeping her alive. Wherever he took her, she’d find a way to escape. And if Efar were dead, she’d come back to the land of dragons for revenge.
****
Bartheleme landed at the gates proper to his father’s castle, setting down the woman. He stalked to the edge of the catwalk and belched out the remains of his fire. If he shifted to human with the white brimstone in his stomach, he’d be sick. He’d actually seen a few dragon shifters die from careless management of their fires.
When he’d finished purging it all, he took
the robe offered by one of the royal guards and shifted to human, shrinking in size, becoming...less. He hated the human form, but so much of the court business had to be conducted that way. If they all remained dragons, there would be no room. The second closest secret was the sheer number of dragon shifters. Their number was rival to any army.
Donning the robe, a deep royal purple with gold trim, he turned toward the other two guards, appraising the woman he’d captured, Fiera. She stood defiantly, a few feet away, her back to the guards, studying the castle. Her arms hung limply at her sides, but her hands were curled into fists.
Bartheleme cleared his throat to get her attention. When Fiera turned to him, her face looked as if a thundercloud had descended upon it. Her brows were knit close together, overshadowing her narrowed eyes. Her chin was jutted forward and her jaw was clenched tight.
She didn’t look like the others: cowed and afraid, he thought. Not even the men. No, she in fact looked quite determined...and livid. She would bear watching.
He pivoted on his heel and led the group into the castle, the tails of his robe bouncing against his legs and his bare feet slapping on the cobblestone. Not altogether dignified. He hated the human form.
****
Between the guards, Fiera followed the royal prince into the castle. More guards dressed in white finery lined the halls and stood outside rooms. The walls were a gray stone with rich tapestries. Wide torch-dotted passages led off to the right and left. The first passage was narrow and close to the outer walls; it would be for the guards. She began counting the hallways as they passed. She planned to escape and didn’t want to get lost.
The vaulted ceilings fascinated her. Though she’d never been in a castle before, she doubted other castles entertained ceilings so high. But then, considering the occupants, they made sense.
The Prince, not looking back, motioned toward a long stretch of a hallway to the right.
Immediately, the guards gripped Fiera’s arms and turned her into the indicated passage. The floor was at an upward slant and, about halfway up, they rudely shoved her though a doorway. When she turned to berate the guards for their roughness, the door slammed in her face, followed by the sound of a bar sliding across it.
