Raine knew her lover too well. “You do not believe this to be a fool's journey.”
“No,” Weynild said, “the knight is very close to the truth. The Hyr'rok'kin have always appeared in spurts, but I have never seen a sustained release such as this, a vomiting of their kind into this realm. But I do not believe the gateway has been left ajar.”
Weynild paused, and Raine did not really want to hear her next words.
“I believe the gateway is being held open.”
Raine's heart was heavy but her words were lightly spoken. “And what type of being is capable of holding open the gateway to the underworld?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Weynild's golden eyes gleamed in the dim light of the forest.
“A being like me.”
The silence in the forest was oppressive as Raine considered the pronouncement. “So you believe it is one of the twelve ancients?”
“Yes. It has been so long since I have seen any of the others, I assumed they had all passed through some mishap or another. But apparently not.”
Weynild was looking at her intensely and Raine knew there was something significant she had not yet said.
“I cannot accompany Idonea.”
Raine cocked her head to the side. “But you just said you believe the quest to be necessary. And if there is another ancient dragon waiting on the other side, you are the only one who can challenge the creature and close the gate.”
“I agree, which is why I will join the battle at the end. But the ancients can sense one another across great distances, and he or she will see me coming like a beacon of light. I would endanger Idonea's companions as much as I would help them.”
Raine did not like where this was going. “But how are they going to get through that ever-increasing horde? As you said, the imperial army is scattered right now, but even full-force they would be hard-pressed to defeat the demons that are coming this way.”
Weynild did not speak but simply gazed at her lover with golden eyes.
Raine understood. “You want me to go.”
“No,” Weynild said sharply, her bitterness evident. “No, I do not want you to go. I do not want you to ever be apart from me. But what I want is less important than the outcome of these events. And I can move now or delay until my hand is forced, but either way, we will end up fighting this battle.”
Raine reluctantly nodded her agreement. “Does Idonea know what lies at the other end?”
“No,” Weynild said.
“Then she will not understand why you cannot go.”
“I don't care. She may complain but she will obey me. And you will have to deal with her ulterior motive, whatever that may be.”
Raine was quiet again, then at last spoke. “You know I will do anything you ask.”
“Do not make me ask this!” Weynild said, her tone harsh but with a catch in her throat. “I cannot bear the thought of putting you in danger.”
Raine smiled a gentle smile. “You are not putting me in danger. None of that bothers me in the slightest. I am not afraid of the Hyr'rok'kin, or even an ancient dragon. You know that Scinterians live for adventure and battle. The only thing I dread is being apart from you. All else I do voluntarily, but the separation I lay at your feet.”
“Then know that I will suffer as greatly as you.”
As she said this, she stepped forward, placed her hands on Raine's hips and pulled her to her. She kissed her deeply, the kiss as passionate as always but now tinged with anguish. The kiss finally ended and Raine stepped back.
“I suppose we should get this thing started then, shouldn't we?''
“No,” Weynild said, “I get you for three days. After that, you can set out. But your next hours are mine.”
Weynild maneuvered her wings through the great opening in the mountain, gliding down into the cavern where she and Raine had met. Raine had not asked their destination; it was where she assumed they were going. Weynild had tersely told Idonea she would return in three days, at which time the band could depart. Weynild then transformed in a flash of light and Idonea watched in astonishment and with a significant degree of jealousy as Raine climbed onto Weynild's back. Weynild launched the two of them into the air with a massive thrust of her wings and they had disappeared into the clouds.
Raine slid from the dragon's back, landing lightly on the ground. The mountain keep held such warm memories for her, she was almost happy for a moment. But the impending journey and separation hung over her head, and her face clouded once more.
“Ah, my love, the sadness in your eyes breaks my heart,” Weynild said, morphing down into her human form.
Raine pushed the clouds away. She had only three days with her lover; she was not going to waste them ruminating on things she could not change. She said nothing, but pulled the silver-haired woman into the pile of furs and fell on top of her. Weynild paused only a moment to blow a whisper of a breath toward the make-shift hearth in the rock, which ignited an inferno and warmed them instantly. Raine laughed at the feat and fell to kissing her neck.
Still, as the hours passed and their passion continued non-stop, a sense of melancholy and desperation pervaded their love-making. Each powerful climax seemed to carry with it the seeds of their imminent parting. In three centuries, Raine had found nothing which she wished to hold onto. Now she had found something she could not let go. Weynild, too, marveled at the depth of her feeling for the creature she held in her arms. She cursed the Hyr'rok'kin, vowing they would pay for separating her from that which she held so dear.
Raine, as usual, had completely lost track of time but knew that it was getting close to their departure. Judging by the light, she guessed they had maybe half a day remaining. She lay on top of Weynild, resting in her arms, enjoying the steady beat of the dragon's powerful heart. Weynild stared off into the fading light, toying with Raine's hair.
“I want to bind you to me.”
“What?” Raine said, startled. She sat half-upright.
Weynild did not release her. “I want to perform the ceremony of binding,”
Raine stared at her, a thousand thoughts and emotions running through her head. But one emotion overpowered all others, resulting in only a single thought.
“No,” Raine said emphatically. “I will not let you do that.”
“You do not wish to join with me?” Weynild said, knowing full well the reason for her refusal.
“You and I are already one,” Raine said vehemently, “But if you are bound to me and I am killed, then you will die as well.”
Weynild simply gazed at her with glowing gold eyes and Raine shook her head.
“I am long-lived, but I am not immortal like you. And I could never live with the thought that I might be the cause of your death.”
“If I am bound to you,” Weynild said, “then your life-force will not leave until my power is exhausted.”
Raine shook her head even more violently. “I will not risk you to save myself.”
“And would you wish to live without me if I were killed?”
Raine did not think ahead to where this conversation was going. “No,” she said, even more vehement. “I have no wish to live without you.”
“Then would you,” Weynild said gently, “wish a fate for me that you yourself could not bear?”
This silenced Raine. What Weynild was suggesting was the interlocking of their souls. It would create an unbreakable bond of power between the two of them. It was an extremely rare ceremony, one that few could successfully complete. No human or dwarf had ever succeeded. There were rumors that a few of the high elves had completed the joining. But the most famed joinings had been between the dragons and their Scinterian brethren in the Great War.
“There is no one I would trust more in this matter,” Weynild said, her tone still gentle. “Scinterians were the only ones proven to be worthy of the dragon's gift.”
Raine clenched her jaw. She knew she would not be able to dissuade her lover. And part of her welcomed the bond becau
se then she would carry Weynild with her no matter how many miles separated them.
“Very well,” she said, “I am honored to consent. I will be bound to you for all of time. Your last breath will come from my lungs and mine from yours. My heart's last beat will be yours. And my soul will not leave this realm without you.”
The golden eyes glowed. “Then let us begin the ceremony.”
CHAPTER 5
Idonea awoke to the sound of the metal sharpening on a grindstone. Evidently her mother and Raine had returned. She pushed the blanket from her and rose to join them outside.
Weynild stood gazing out over the water. Raine glanced up at her exit from the cottage, but returned to the task in which she was deeply engrossed. She eyed the edge of the wicked looking sword, deemed it not yet satisfactory, and began grinding once more. Idonea approached her mother, who did not turn as she neared. Idonea stood until her impatience got the best of her.
“We need to leave today.”
“I am not going.”
The terse pronouncement stung Idonea, “But we agreed—”
“I agreed to help you,” Weynild said, even more tersely. “So I am sending Raine with you.”
Idonea's cheeks flushed crimson with anger. “I am sure that is a very bad idea.”
“You are sure of nothing,” Weynild said sharply, “The things you think you know but do not, could fill that stream. And the things you don't even think about could fill the world's oceans. There are reasons why I cannot accompany you. I can only help you indirectly which is why I offer you Raine's assistance.”
Idonea turned her eyes to Raine, her expression sullen. Raine ignored her, examining the edge of her sword.
“I guess it is better than nothing,” Idonea muttered.
That was finally too much for Weynild and she grabbed Idonea's arm and snatched her to her. Her golden eyes burned into her daughter as she bit off every word.
“I send with you that which is most precious to me in this world and every other. Do not underestimate or seek to minimize my sacrifice.” She released the arm, thrusting it from her. “Do not second-guess me, girl.”
This at last silenced Idonea. Raine did not respond to the exchange. She stood and began pulling on her armor. Weynild moved to her and began adjusting the straps on the beautiful leather gear. It was supple from years of wear, reinforced in strategic locations but loose enough to allow free movement. It had a subtle bluish cast, a color similar to the blue of the Scinterian markings hidden beneath Raine's clothing. It was well-maintained and fit Raine like a glove.
Raine had not looked up the entire time Weynild stood in front of her. Weynild pulled the last strap so that it was snug. The two stood inches apart, Weynild waiting for her lover to look up.
Raine finally composed herself enough to ensure her eyes would not change color and raised her gaze. Weynild felt the tight ache in her throat expand even more, making it difficult to swallow. Neither could think of anything adequate to say. Finally, Raine whispered a few words in Scinterian, a language long forgotten by all but the one who stood in front of her.
“My last breath is yours.”
Weynild let out a cry of anguish and pulled Raine to her, kissing her violently and desperately. The kiss was intense and prolonged and Weynild did not want it to end. She finally pushed Raine away, whirling from her.
“Go,” she said harshly.
Raine turned on her heel, walked toward Idonea, then past her. She was heading directly towards Idonea's camp a few hours away, surprising Idonea because the camp had been well hidden and she had not mentioned its location.
A rush of hot wind nearly toppled Idonea off her feet and she choked on the dust that rose from the ground. Weynild, now in dragon form, leaped upward and launched into a tight, savage turn inches from the ground, accelerating into the sky with tremendous force. She let loose a tormented roar that split the sky. The anguished cry rumbled like thunder across the land, echoing through the mountains and scattering wildlife and birds miles away. The fiery red dragon continued to accelerate, the powerful wings attempting to dissipate a pain that would not lessen any time soon. Within seconds the great beast was gone from sight, disappearing into the horizon to the east.
Idonea watched her mother fly away, stunned. The roar had deafened her and the sound was still ringing in her ears. Raine, on the other hand, had not reacted at all. Once she had started out, her stride had not hesitated, her path had not deviated, and she had not turned around. She walked steadily forward and Idonea ran to catch up with her.
The pain of the parting finally started to lessen and Raine's somber mood lightened. The forest was cool and lovely and it was difficult for her to remain so cheerless in the midst of such natural beauty. Besides, it was her way to experience pain fully, plumb its very depths, then let it go. She missed her dragon lover with a fierceness of emotion that only an Arlanian could experience but approached her mission with Scinterian pragmatism: the sooner her goal was accomplished, the sooner she would be reunited with her love.
Idonea sensed the lightening of Raine's mood and welcomed it. She would not admit it, but for a short while there the other woman had been almost intimidating. She was not particularly impressed with Raine and returned to her continued speculation regarding Raine's abilities to survive her mother's attentions. Raine seemed to sense her ribald thoughts and slid her a wry sideways glance.
Idonea slowed her pace slightly so she could continue her examination of the other woman without Raine noticing. True, the girl walked with a graceful athleticism, but there really wasn't much about her to suggest any extraordinary fighting ability. Although tall, she wasn't particularly large and was a bit on the slender side. The armor she wore was unique, very old, and Idonea had not seen any like it before. The weapons she carried were also strange and Idonea wondered if she had any idea how to use them. She continued to lower her assessment of her new companion as Raine walked with a certain devil-may-care attitude, one completely at odds with the seriousness of the quest they were about to undertake. Idonea didn't know if the girl was stupid or simply putting on a show of false bravado.
Still, every once in a while Raine would pull off an amazing stunt in her casual jaunt. About halfway to their destination, she picked up a small, flat stone and sent it hurtling a great distance into the brush with a side-arm motion. She followed the projectile's path into the bushes and then returned holding a four foot long serpent. The reptile had been killed cleanly by a blow to its head.
“Do you like snake?” Raine asked politely.
Idonea looked at the dead reptile with disgust, shaking her head.
“Yes,” Raine said, “I guess it is an acquired taste.” She tossed the snake back into bushes, then let out a low whistle before continuing on. Idonea had no idea who she was whistling to and wondered if the woman was a little mad.
It took them about three hours to reach Idonea's camp and Raine had unerringly led the way. As they neared, Idonea's companions stood to greet her return.
There was a dwarf, two elves, and four humans counting Idonea. Gunnar and Bristol led the expedition, Gunnar with brown hair and hazel eyes signifying he was from the southland and Bristol with red hair and the fair complexion of those from the north. Both were tall and looked formidable in their armor, especially Bristol who was very large for a man. The other human, Dagna, was a well-endowed female who also wore armor, although not of imperial stock. One elf was female, small and dark-haired with large doe-like eyes, and one was male with short blond hair that was almost white. The dwarf was short, stout, and barrel-chested, his thick forearms covered with dark brown hair. Raine eyed the small group, wondering if they were planning on obtaining additional reinforcements. The small group eyed Raine, clearly unimpressed with the reinforcements that Idonea had provided. There was a long silence as the group assessed Raine.
“I was expecting something a little bigger,” the dwarf finally muttered.
“You and I agree on little,
Lorifal,” the male elf said under his breath, “but I am with you on that one.” Feyden examined the newcomer, unimpressed. Granted, she was stunningly beautiful, but that really wasn't a quality they needed right now.
Gunnar and Bristol also sought to hide their disappointment. Idonea had insisted they travel out of their way, certain she could provide them with a valuable resource. But this seemed a little anticlimactic. Perhaps it was a subtle bias, an assumption that the stranger's physical beauty was inversely related to her fighting ability, as if she drew from a limited pool of resources that was all consumed by her looks.
“This wasn't exactly what I had hoped for,” Idonea said apologetically, “but at least it's another body.” She turned to Raine, far less apology in her tone. “No offense.”
Raine gazed at them serenely, unaffected by their judgment. “None taken,” she said mildly.
Dagna gazed at the new addition with far more interest as she was always deeply affected by beauty, especially from the female form. Idonea caught sight of her expression and rolled her eyes. The buxom bard was so predictable. That mouse of an elf, Elyara was predictable as well, hanging in the back with a meek expression on her face. It was a good thing that girl was good with magic because otherwise she would be worthless on this excursion.
“Well then, let's break camp,” Gunnar said. “We might as well get started.”
The small band worked its way through the forest, then through the more difficult swampland of the wilds. Raine felt they were taking a most ridiculous route, far more strenuous than several alternatives that she could think of. But she was unwilling to offer advice that might suggest contention and just went along with the group. She hung toward the rear of the band, occasionally tossing stones into the surrounding brush. The other members engaged quietly in conversation from time to time, but all looked at her with various degrees of misgiving. It was hard to tell who disapproved of her more, Feyden or Idonea. Gunnar and Bristol seemed intent on ignoring her entirely.
The Dragon's Lover Page 6
