The Dragon's Lover

by Samantha Sabian

  Raine's desperation finally registered on Elyara. She frenetically searched her mind for an appropriate spell, and heard Y'arren's gentle voice in her head. The elven high priestess sat miles away, transmitting the spell she had known Elyara would need.

  It was perfect. Elyara held the sword in her hands, spoke the words that would allow the sword to become a conduit for the spirit of the trees, and then looked away as the blinding flash of light ignited the weapon with a green glow.

  “Here!” she said, handing it to Raine.

  But the sword would not reach her as it dropped from Elyara's suddenly nerveless fingers. A swirling blue maelstrom exploded right in the center of their circle, right in the center of their band as a Reaper Shard manifested, then fully formed. It was twelve feet tall, a pillar of blackness that shifted into hideous forms. Its shriek split the air and hurt their ears, as did the low rumble and hissing that followed the scream. The smell was like a physical blow, sulfur and rotted flesh, and even the Hyr'rok'kin shrunk away from this manifestation of death. The Reaper was not quite solid, nor fully transparent, but rather wavered between the two as it wavered between worlds.

  Raine thought the creature would come for her, but it was immediately attracted to Idonea as all dark magic was like nectar to it. It was clear the Reaper Shard intended to consume her soul after killing her body. The apparition reared back, its willowy, ephemeral arms floating outward like smoke, then it flung the fire of the underworld toward Idonea. Idonea screamed.

  “No!” Raine shouted, stepping in front of Idonea and pulling the woman behind her. The two were engulfed in an inferno, disappearing beneath the fiery onslaught. The wall behind them was blown outward, causing the entire magical structure to disintegrate. Shards standing too near the funnel of flame went down in agonized screaming as they were burned alive. It seemed that nothing would be left but charred corpses and ash as the attack continued, and as the Reaper shrieked again, all flinched from the horrible scream. Finally, the wraith quit the assault, and the smoke and flame died down.

  And Raine was just standing there, untouched, with Idonea safely behind her. There was a path of still burning destruction all around them, but Raine and Idonea were unharmed as was the area immediately behind them. It was as if Raine cast a surreal shadow resulting from the deflection of the flame around her body.

  The Reaper Shard screamed in fury and its attention was now fully on Raine. Raine leaped for the enchanted sword that Elyara had dropped, grabbing it with the hand wrapped in cloth. She turned just as the wraith bore down on her, enraged, and met the creature with the tip of the sword. It pierced the abomination, causing a prolonged scream that caused everyone to cover their ears. The creature tried to fling Raine away, but she held fast, grasping one ephemeral arm and the hilt of the sword. She clung to the Reaper as it thrashed about and finally was able to wrestle it to the ground as the natural magic took its toll. She straddled the creature and with one great thrust, impaled it through its core, pinning it to the earth. She smashed her elbow down onto what would have been the creature's face, staring into the empty eyes of a dragon's shrunken skull.

  “I am coming for you,” she whispered through gritted teeth, knowing that whatever being had summoned the creature could see her. “And I will be there soon.”

  The wraith twitched, began to melt, completely dissolved, then disappeared into a wisp of foul-smelling blue smoke. Raine sat straddling nothing more than the ground, the sword stuck into the earth between her knees. She continued to stare at the ground in front of her unmoving.

  The remainder of the Shard army turned and fled.

  They moved across the plain in uncoordinated terror. And although normally their commanders would be whipping them to stand their ground, in this instance, the infantry could barely keep up with their fleeing superiors.

  Raine stood. She unwrapped the cloth from her hand and grasped the hilt of the sword, pulling it from the ground. The gentle green glow that had encompassed the metal disappeared, and she sheathed her weapon. Her companions were all looking at her, stunned. Idonea kept running her hands over her arms in disbelief, as if she could not grasp the fact she was not covered with burns. Feyden examined the path of non-destruction, the surreal “shadow” that Raine had cast. Elyara was in shock, unable to grasp much of anything that had just happened. Dagna, Bristol, and Gunnar all looked at Raine a little fearfully. They milled about uncertainly, and finally Lorifal removed a flask from his inside his armor, proffering it to Raine.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  Raine took the flask gratefully, taking a much larger swig than she would normally. The fiery liquid felt good going down her throat. She glanced to the sky and let loose a piercing whistle that sounded remarkably like a hawk's call. The raptors, who had all instinctively taken flight when the Reaper Shard materialized, wheeled about in response. Their formation solidified as if in salute, then dissolved as they all went their separate ways.

  She handed the flask back to Lorifal. She looked about her at the piles of dead bodies.

  “Under normal circumstances, I would hate to camp out here in the open. But I have a feeling we will not be bothered tonight.” She wrinkled her nose. “But as tired as I am, I don't mind walking a bit further to get upwind from this.”

  The rest of the tired band heartily agreed.

  The horses came trotting in about dusk, led by Raine's stallion. The campsite was quiet and subdued. Although the day had brought a resounding victory, there was a degree of uneasiness, largely because of what was unsaid. Raine sat before the fire, her back resting comfortably against her pack, aware of the unspoken questions of her comrades. Her thoughts were on the Reaper Shard and on the power of the being who summoned it. This brought her thoughts more pleasantly around to Weynild, whom she would probably see soon. Based upon the few meridians they crossed, she estimated another intersection was a few days' travel away. She mused that she was probably more angry at the Hyr'rok'kin for delaying her reunion with her love than she was for them nearly killing her.

  Feyden watched the emotions shift in those expressive blue eyes. He could tell when Raine was thinking of her mysterious lover because her eyes shifted to a deeper hue. He took a deep draw on his pipe. Although Raine had revealed a startling number of abilities, today's revelations were astounding, and a little disturbing. He was not certain he had ever heard of anyone destroying a Reaper Shard. Extraordinarily powerful mages were rumored to have banished the wraiths back to the underworld, but he didn't know of anyone who had actually destroyed one, and it seemed today that the creature had in fact been destroyed.

  Smoke curled up around his head as he took another deep draw. Raine was not resistant to fire, of that he was certain. A week back when she and Lorifal had been drinking merrily, she went to light the wrapped tobacco he had given her and burned her finger. She had yelped as any normal person would and Elyara tended the wound, commenting only that Raine healed very quickly. So he was uncertain of what had happened today. He had quietly asked both Elyara and Idonea if they had intervened in any way, and both denied taking action. Elyara replied that even her most powerful ward would not have stopped that inferno and it had happened so quickly she did not have time to act even were her spells sufficient. Idonea was still so shaken by the incident that she merely shook her head numbly.

  Gunnar passed a cup of the strong, pitch black tea he favored to Dagna. She took it, thanked him, then returned to her work. She was already writing the prose that would memorialize today's battle. Bristol also took a cup, his eyes returning to Raine when he resettled. Elyara sat near Dagna, who more and more welcomed the delicate elf's company. Idonea sat with a blanket about her shoulders even though it was warm out. She was deep in thought.

  Fortuitously, Lorifal had consumed just enough of his favorite drink for imprudence.

  “So,” he said, addressing Raine, “fire doesn't even burn you?”

  Raine laughed. “Of course it burns me. Remember just las
t week when you and I were drinking and I burned myself.” Her tone was even but her expression darkened a touch. “That wasn't fire today.”

  “No,” Idonea said, the words pulling her from her reverie, “it was magic.”

  Silence settled on the group.

  “Yes,” Raine said calmly.

  “You are immune to magic,” Idonea said, growing more certain as she gave voice to the thoughts that had occupied her since the attack.

  “Yes,” Raine said simply, “I am.”

  Elyara glanced over, startled. That would explain the strange void that surrounded Raine, the lack of magical energy that all beings possessed.

  “That is why you wrapped your hand,” Feyden said, “you could not touch that enchanted sword.”

  “Well,” Raine said, “I could have touched it but that would have defeated the purpose. The sword would have disenchanted the instant contact was made with my skin.”

  Although Idonea had suspected the truth, the admission was still hard to grasp. “I have known some who are resistant to magic. And there are some races in which this resistance runs deep.”

  Raine waited to see if she would mention the Arlanians by name. It was one of the few, passive defenses the beautiful people possessed, protecting them from at least some of the profane acts perpetrated against them.

  Idonea held her tongue on Raine's heritage, leaving the knowledge unspoken but hanging between them. She continued, disbelief in her voice, not at the reality of the gift but at its improbability. “But I have never known anyone who was completely immune to magic.”

  Raine was a bit uneasy at Idonea's persistence. Her gift was a result of her unique parentage, of having two wildly divergent races, both known to have high resistances to magic, breed in the most unlikely pairing. Two resistant Scinterians would yield a resistant offspring. Two resistant Arlanians would yield a resistant Arlanian. But apparently a resistant Scinterian and resistant Arlanian yielded an offspring that was completely immune to magic. And Idonea was correct, as far as Raine knew. In all her travels, she had never come across another being with the gift.

  “It must be some quirk of fate,” Raine said, as if to end the subject.

  “I believe it to be a gift from the gods,” Dagna said with certainty, her romanticism taking hold. She would add this “fact” into her narrative.

  Idonea greeted that proposed explanation with condescension but held her tongue. She returned to her dark reverie, her curiosity about the creature sitting across from her growing insatiably. She wondered if Raine could feel magical artifacts, and the weight of the amulet in her pocket grew heavy. She moved her hand to feel the outline of the object, unconsciously patting it beneath the folds of her robes.

  Raine observed the subtle movement and inwardly sighed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Once again on horseback, it took them but a few days to clear the remainder of the open plain. Gunnar welcomed the rolling hills and sparse forest. It wasn't much in terms of cover, but it was far better than the exposure of the flatlands. And they were approaching another small village which cheered them greatly. It was not as large as the previous, with only a few farms and a tavern that doubled as a general goods trading post, but the villagers welcomed them. They set up camp at the edge of a tilled field on the town border.

  Each left to pursue individual interests and Idonea watched Raine slip away into the hills. Everyone was used to Raine's disappearances and no longer considered them mysterious. Raine just seemed to be the kind of person who enjoyed solitude and needed time alone. Idonea, on the other hand, could see the meridian lines and knew where Raine was headed.

  Raine pushed her way through the forest and came upon a mossy clearing decorated with an explosion of wild flowers. Butterflies hovered over the rainbow petals and iridescent songbirds perched in the trees. She wondered if the confluence of meridians always produced such beauty because the scenery at each crossroads had been gorgeous. Or perhaps it was merely the expectation of seeing her lover that made everything beautiful.

  Weynild was there amongst the flowers and she fell into her arms, laughing. The dragon in human form took her to the ground and rolled her onto her back on the soft moss. Raine stared up into the golden eyes she loved, feeling impish.

  “Sometimes I wish I were not immune to magic.”

  Weynild propped herself up on an elbow. “And why is that?”

  “I would have you shape-shift me, and then I could be on top.”

  Weynild chuckled at her mischievous companion. “Oh really? Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “That might actually be enjoyable.”

  She glanced about her, looking for raw material, and found it close at hand. A combination of earth and soft metal that could be hardened by extreme heat. Raine watched curiously, a grin appearing as the phallus began to take shape, the grin widening when Weynild set the object down and blew upon it with a red hot flame, solidifying its form. She went to pick it up, pulling her hand away sharply as it was still very hot.

  “We should probably let that cool down a bit,” she said sheepishly.

  Weynild's golden eyes gleamed. “Thank you for your consideration.” She sought further materials and created something of a belt in order to attach the phallus. Raine watched her work.

  “I did not realize you were such a craftsman.”

  “Shut up and put that on.”

  It was a surprisingly good fit for such a makeshift device, and Raine glanced down, the sight of the contraption making her laugh.

  “I see that I am quite well-endowed,” she said.

  “Yes,” Weynild said, “one of the advantages of crafting your own.” She pulled Raine on top of her and helped guide the device to its intended destination, catching her breath at the penetration.

  For a moment, Raine merely lay on top of her, enjoying the look in her eyes as they hovered at the beginning of the act. Then slowly she began to move her hips, experimenting, enjoying the novel sensation. She received instantaneous feedback as Weynild's eyes closed at the ecstatic feeling, the fullness between her legs and her lover's weight atop her. The girl's rhythm was perfect, her strokes gentle but strong, her skill really quite exceptional considering she had never done the act before.

  Weynild stopped her and with her immense strength, rolled her over onto her back. She straddled her, the object still pleasantly inside. “And how is it you are so skilled at this? Have you done this before?”

  The words were more playful than jealous and now Raine was enjoying the view of those perfect breasts above her head. “Unless I perpetrated it on you in your sleep, you know I have not. I’ve been watching you for some time, however, and have been mindful of your technique.”

  As she said this, she thrust her hips upward, burying the phallus deep inside Weynild and causing waves of pleasure to wash over the silver-haired woman. Raine continued the motion and Weynild began to rock her hips so that they moved as one. It was one of the most pleasant sensations Weynild had ever experienced, and she decided she liked the position.

  “I see I am still on the bottom,” Raine commented wryly.

  “Shut up,” Weynild said, then ensured obedience by kissing her. She could tell by the quickening of her lover's rhythm that Raine, too, was enjoying the orientation and would likely achieve climax in that position. She forcefully tried to contain her own climax in order to bring the girl along, but Raine seemed insistent on driving her to pleasure. Weynild would have none of that and knew how to manipulate her lover. She leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  The sensation of the warm breath in her ear and the whispered endearment, half invitation, half command was all it took. Raine exploded, all of her energy focused on driving into the one who straddled her, the one who rode her waves of pleasure until they were overcome by her own.

  For the longest time, Weynild just lay on top of Raine, enjoying the exhausted intimacy of their positions. Raine was very much overcome by the inte
nsity of the act, and she held Weynild tightly. She finally loosened her grip enough to allow Weynild to roll off of her. Weynild removed the phallus, set it to the side, then heated it to a white hot flame, which melted it back into the earth.

  “I was growing fond of that,” Raine said.

  Weynild kissed her tenderly. “I assure you I will make you more. I don't want you tempted to use it on anyone else.”

  Raine knew she was teasing, and her eyes darkened to such a deep violet they were nearly black. “As if that were even possible.”

  Their positions were so comfortable and the mood so gentle, Weynild despised the fact she had to intrude upon it. But they needed to talk and so rarely had the opportunity.

  “So now you have killed a Reaper Shard.”

  Raine was not yet ready to let the mood pass, so incorporated the conversation into it. “And does that arouse you?”

  “You have no idea,” Weynild said with a deep, throaty chuckle.

  Raine grinned. The flash of renewed desire in Weynild's eyes told her they would not be talking long, so she would get to the point quickly. “Of course now Idonea knows of my immunity to magic, as do the others.”

  “It is not Idonea and the others I am concerned about. It is what was on the other end of that wraith that has me concerned, the summoner.”

  A sigh escaped from Raine. “Yes, especially since I stood over the Reaper and threatened him or her, or whatever the summoner is. I told them I was coming for them.”

  The admission made Weynild smile and Raine blushed.

  “I was caught up in the moment. I usually am not so melodramatic.” Raine rolled her eyes at herself. “It just seemed appropriate at the time.” She sought to change the subject.

  “Idonea carries something with her, a magical artifact, I believe. Do you know what it is?”

  “No,” Weynild said, “do you think it's significant?”