by Helen Harper
I freaked out. “You almost told her what I was? You prick! Solus, you’re the one who told me that I couldn’t tell anyone at all! Well, clearly I don’t need to because you’re doing all the blabbing for me!”
“Dragonlette, she’s my Queen. And I didn’t tell her YET, but I might have to.”
Jesus, what was it with all these otherworld idiots and their chain of command?
“Anyway,” Solus continued, “you’ll be pleased to know that I have gained you somewhat of a reprieve. She’s agreed to allow your Mrs Alcoon to stay for the time being, providing that you travel to Tir-na-Nog in the near future to meet her so she can determine your true nature for herself.”
“She’s going to have to get in line,” I growled.
Solus raised his eyebrows at me questioningly. I filled him in on the events of the last forty-eight hours, from what had happened at the Ministry up till I’d left the Brethren. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea broadcasting the fact that the shifter world was becoming incapacitated by a disease, especially to someone who I clearly couldn’t really trust, but if my plan my worked, then I figured it wouldn’t really matter. And if my plan didn’t work, well then it wouldn’t really matter.
“How did you know I was here?” I questioned, suddenly. I had given up on calling for Solus ages ago and wasn’t massively keen on the idea that he could find me with a snap of his fairy fingers whenever he wanted to.
“I received a very strange phone call from Balud about someone trying to track me down. He said the call from this area.”
Oh. Balud must be the troll. He must either have some mad tracking skills of his own or some outstandingly good tech to have pinpointed my location. I decided that either way I didn’t really want to know. There were other things to worry about for the time being.
I softened my voice and looked hopefully at Solus. “So, will you help me now?”
“I don’t quite understand, dragonlette. What help do you require? I do not see that there is anything you can do, unless you have a medical degree tucked up in your sleeves somewhere.”
“Don’t you get it? I thought you were all-knowing and wise. One of the things Mrs Alcoon had me do was collect some blisterwort from the Cairns for her to help her friend.”
“To help her friend get over some mild illness,” Solus said, confused.
“Well, yeah, but she also said that it had been used in the past to cure other things, including something called blushing disease.”
Solus’ expression cleared. “And you think this blushing disease might be what your pack is suffering from.”
“They’re not my pack, Solus,” I said absently. “But, yes.”
“There is one other thing that you’ve no really thought about,” he added.
“What?”
“You’re a Draco Wyr. This Iabartu woman…”
“Uh, demi-goddess, thank you very much.”
He ignored me. “She wanted your blood, according to you, so that she could use its properties. And those properties include healing. Maybe all you need is to get your Lord to suck on your blood, vamp style, and then all your problems are solved.” He clicked his fingers with a snap for effect.
“It’s a possibility, Solus, but I don’t know what my blood can do. Neither do you for that matter. I don’t know if it’d end up making things worse, not better. And besides, it’s also addictive. I don’t want to turn the pack into a bunch of drug addicts.”
“They might want to know why you are giving them blood in the first place too, of course,” he surmised.
“Yes, and I’m trying to keep that a secret.” I glared at him to let him know how pissed off I was that he’d been telling others what I didn’t want anyone to know.
He gazed back innocently. “Hey, you can trust the Summer Queen. She’s one of the good guys.”
I refrained from commenting that I didn’t think the Fae were ever truly going to be classed as the ‘good guys’ but decided it wouldn’t exactly help my cause. Instead I returned to my original question. “So, will you help me?”
“If you promise me that when you’re done with all this daft magic training stuff, you come to Tir-na-Nog and meet the Queen.”
“Yes, yes. I promise,” I said rashly. “You know it might be five years though?”
He shrugged. “Time is not a problem.”
I snorted. “Not for you. I’m on a clock.” I peered at him anxiously for a moment. “You will keep Mrs Alcoon safe until then?”
Solus bowed dramatically and grinned at me. “You have my word.” He held out his arm and the air started to shimmer purple. I held my breath waiting for the inevitable flood of nausea to hit and closed my eyes tightly.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Several moments and several retches later, I was picking myself up off the dark mossy ground at the Clava Cairns. Unlike the last time I’d been here, there wasn’t a soul in sight. In fact, other than a patch of blackened grass from someone’s abandoned campfire, there was no trace of the winter solstice festivities that, for me, now seemed half a lifetime ago.
Solus was standing a few feet away, hands on hips, and head slightly cocked. He looked vaguely amused.
“Don’t say anything,” I growled at him.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. I glared at him in further warning and he shrugged and wandered off to inspect some of the standing stones. Spitting on the ground to rid myself of the taste of bile, I began to cast around for signs of the blisterwort. There appeared to be a cluster over to my right so I strode off, ignoring the Fae further.
I figured that I’d probably require a great deal of the stuff. Whilst it was by no means indigenous to Inverness, I had absolutely no idea where else I’d be able to procure some so it made sense to get as much as I could right now. I was careful to dig into the cold hard ground with my fingertips and uproot the plants completely however. At least that way Julia would be able to make proper cuttings to encourage it to grow elsewhere – preventing any future outbreaks of the disease. As I did so, I entertained myself with visions of Corrigan falling at my feet in abject gratitude at my having saved the entire Pack from oblivion.
“I will never call you kitten again, Mack, my savior,” I grunted, scrabbling into the earth while on my knees. “Neither will I have my minions capture you and throw you into a cell. Instead I am clearly out of my league as leader of the Pack. You must take my place and I will become your servant.”
An image flashed into my mind of myself draped over a chaise longue and Corrigan, wearing nothing more than a loin cloth, dropping grapes languidly into my mouth.
“What are you muttering about?” asked Solus from right behind me.
I started, blushing involuntarily as my daydream immediately evaporated. “Uh, nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Make yourself useful, Solus, and help me get as much of this as I can.”
The Fae moved round in front of me and knelt down, waggling his fingers in my face. “Do you see these?”
“Yes, you have fingers. Congratulations. Now put them to use.”
“Dragonlette, you fail to see what is right in front of you. It takes considerable time and effort to maintain such perfectly manicured and groomed fingers as these. I am not about to ruin such good work by shoving my hands into some frozen Scottish dirt for a shapeshifter. In fact, truthfully, I don’t really understand why you are doing it either. We are talking about the people who threw you out because you weren’t furry enough to be one of them and from whom you’ve been hiding for the last six months.”
“Well, by the sounds of things I didn’t have to be hiding from them at all. I had kind of got that wrong. They were only worried that I might have gone rogue, not that I might be a human.” I shoved the blisterwort I’d already collected up at Solus. “Here. If you’re not going to help dig it up, then the least you can do is hold the bloody stuff.”
He reluctantly took hold of the plants, with the faintest expression of someone who’d been aske
d to carry nuclear waste. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re so keen to help them. What have they done for you?”
I sighed and moved over to another patch. “Life isn’t all about quid pro quo, Solus. Sometimes it’s just nice to be nice.” I tried conveniently to forget that I’d just been fantasising about exactly what quid pro quo I could get from Corrigan.
“Bullshit,” he said mildly. “You’re not nice.”
I began to splutter, pausing from my digging. He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Oh, come on, dragonlette. You have an outrageous temper. And when was the last time you were nice to someone?”
“I’m nice all the time!”
“Go on. Name the last time you were nice.”
I stared up at Solus, slightly open-mouthed as I tried to think. Surely there must be lots of times in the last few days? I rocked back on my heels. “Oh god. You’re right. I’m a horrible person. I can’t remember the last time I was nice. I’m a bitch.”
Solus laughed at my mournful epiphany. I shot him a look filled with daggers, then realised that probably wasn’t very nice. “Dragonlette, you’re not a bitch. You’re just a dragon. You have a bad temper and a strong sense of survival but you’re so much more than nice. Relax.” He grinned at me. “And stop changing the subject.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not helping the shifters because you’re nice. You’re helping them because you want them to like you. Or rather because you want a certain black haired, green eyed cat to like you at least.”
“Corrigan? You think I’m doing this because I want Corrigan to like me? I can’t stand him! He’s a total arse. In fact, he’s a megalomaniac who has done nothing but cause me trouble.”
“And?” prompted Solus.
“And what?”
“Oh come on. You clearly fancy the pants off of him.”
“Fuck off! I do not!”
I pulled myself up to standing and eyeballed Solus. He just calmly looked back at me. “It’s okay, dragonlette, you can say it.”
I shook my head at him in glum confusion.
“Say ‘Solus, you are always right’.”
I stared at him. “I do not fancy Corrigan,” I enunciated.
He smirked. “Sure.”
My mouth was suddenly dry. I thought about the Lord Alpha and the last time I’d seen him, with his green gold eyes roving irritably over me, and the ridiculous disappointment I’d felt when he’d turfed me out, as well as the way his muscles had rippled under his shirt despite the tiredness that was no doubt caused by the red fever.
“Oh God,” I whispered.
“There you go,” said Solus smugly. He licked his lips. “It’s alright though, I can wait.”
It took me a moment for his words to register and for me to find my voice. “Wait for what?”
“Till you work it out of your system.” The Fae leaned in towards me and lowered his voice. “It’s because he’s so unattainable that you have, what do you humans call it? The hots for him? You’ll get over it and I’ll be here.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’ll be here? Solus…”
“Shhh,” he said, placing a long finger against my lips. “This is a discussion for another time.”
I opened my mouth to speak again but realised I had no idea what I would say, and shut it again. Solus might be right that I had a tiny crush on the Lord of all shapeshifters and he was probably right that it was just because I couldn’t have him. However I knew deep within that there was not even the faintest flicker of attraction inside me for the Fae. I shifted uncomfortably, hoping that the reason he’d helped me so much had not been because he thought he might get something out of it by the end, before remembering that he was on the point of giving me up to the Summer Queen. It was probably more curiosity about shagging a dragon that had piqued Solus’ interest, rather than any real emotion. I relaxed.
I moved away from him and changed the subject. “It’s getting light. I need to get back to London to give this to Julia and then return to the mages.”
Solus cocked his head and sketched a quick bow choosing not to remark on my sudden volte-face. “As you wish, dragonlette.”
I began to snap at him not to call me that but the air was already starting to shimmer and the all too familiar nausea was rising in my stomach. I felt the Fae press something into my hand and dully registered that it was the cluster of blisterwort. My vision started to go blurry and the night sky swirled around in dizzying clouds. And then I was back in the entrance hall of the Brethren’s hide-away, on my knees, nails clutching into the cool decorative floor tiles whilst around me I heard ripping clothes and the growls of changing shifters. Why Solus couldn’t have picked a less conspicuous spot was beyond me. I looked around for the Fae, forcing down the nausea, but he was nowhere to be seen.
A tawny wolf took a step towards me, teeth bared. A sliver of drool hung from its mouth.
“Careful,” I said slowly, trying to get control of my stomach and getting up to my feet, “you’ll mess up the pretty floor.”
From behind me I felt something snap at my calves. I sighed. I wasn’t quite sure I was up to another fight just yet. As more shifters came into the hall, some already transformed, I knew that the odds would be massively against me anyway. I just had to get hold of Julia and pass her the blisterwort.
“I’m not trying to cause you any trouble,” I shouted out. “I have something to help you.”
The growling around me got louder. Goddamn shifters and their hardheadedness. I caught sight of a familiar figure, her body lowered and ready to pounce.
“Lucy! Look, you know me.” I coughed slightly. “Well, sort of. I need to give this to Julia. It’s for the red fever. It’ll cure it, I think. Please, just let me…”
Before I could finish my sentence a giant paw cuffed me on the side of my head and I went sprawling back onto the floor. The familiar flames answered the ringing pain in my head and, without thinking, I jumped to my feet and prepared to defend myself. I saw through narrowed eyes that the attack had come from Staines. I was going to enjoy this. Tingling heat ran through my veins and I felt my fingertips prickle. Interesting, that meant that the green fire was returning. I made a mental note of how long it had taken the strange magic to recover and hastily stuffed the blisterwort down the back of my jeans so that it didn’t get singed. It rubbed irritatingly against my skin and I inwardly cursed the stupid shifters who I was actually trying to help.
I concentrated on my hands, damping down the fire before it got started in one rational moment as I decided that I’d make this a fair fight, and then kicked out at the bear, not quite connecting, and rolled immediately to my left and back onto my feet. The other shifters around me moved back, clearly allowing the Lord Alpha’s right hand man the chance to take me down on his own. Fine, if that was the way they wanted to play it then I’d rise to the occasion.
Staines leapt towards me, with more lithe grace than I would have expected from his lumbering form. I managed to spring out of the way in time, however, and jumped up in to the air, scissoring out a hard kick and connecting with his shoulder. I landed back on the floor in a crouch as he began to barrel towards me. His right flank was vulnerable though and I saw my way in to slapping him down for good. I shifted my weight, preparing myself, and then stopped as I abruptly remembered the promise I’d made to Corrigan. Goddamnit. Although Staines had made the first move, I supposed that I had materialised rather dramatically in the middle of their home.
I jumped out of the way and turned, straightening up and holding my palms out in the universal language of surrender. “I don’t want to fight you, Staines.”
He snarled at me in bare acknowledgement of my words.
“I mean it.” As much as it galled me, I forced myself to completely relax. “I’ve just come to bring you this.”
I reached behind me to pull out the herb. The muscles in Staines’ shoulders tensed.
“For fuck’s sake,” I spat, “I’m just trying t
o help you. These,” I produced the blisterwort out with a flourish, “will help you.”
He sprang forward, knocking me to the ground, until he was on top of me with his muzzle in my face.
“Jesus, you lumbering oaf. I’m one of you.”
Staines snorted to show just how much he thought of that statement and opened his jaws to reveal sharp teeth. I twisted my head to the side to avoid his unpleasant hot breath and gasped. “Way Directive 14, you idiot.”
He paused, dark eyes staring at me unblinking. Way Directive 14 stated that no shifter could attack another creature who surrendered without prejudice. I had to hope that he was a stickler for the rules. He growled and leaned back, still in bear form. I raised myself up to my elbows.
“I give myself and my loyalty to the pack,” I intoned formally. “And if you’ll just give these to Julia she can use them to cure the red fever.” I pulled at the blisterwort that I was still clutching tight in my hand and waved it in his face. I softened my voice. “Please, just try it.”
“Oh, yeah?” came a sarcastic voice from the side of me. It was the were-tiger, un-transformed, who’d carried me in so unceremoniously earlier in the day. “How do we know that’s not some kind of poison?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I hissed. “You know what I can do.” For a split second I let the green flames flicker on, and then off again. “Do you really think I couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to? I lived with the pack for most of my life. I wouldn’t harm a shifter unless I had to.”
“You went rogue.”
“I can’t go rogue if I’m not really a shifter now, can I?” I was trying to keep reason in my voice. “And the only reason I left was because I thought that you – the Brethren – would be pissed off enough that I was human to kill my pack. I wasn’t to know that that was just some kind of myth.”
