by Sher Dillard
Before she could scream, a shaft of yellow fire shot past Flint’s head. The heat was close enough to melt the hairs on the back of her arm.
“Flint!” Laila screamed, as he swerved to avoid the torrent of fire. He immediately dropped a wing, then dove towards the ground, folding his wings back like a falcon.
Laila glanced over her shoulder. A gray dragon swooshed down after them. Laila’s heart raced as she clenched her arms around Flint’s scaly neck. Another dragon. Why? Had it attacked them, or was this some kind of friendly welcome, dragon style?
The look of pure hate in the eyes of the gray dragon told her the truth. Their death was its only goal.
Laila swallowed hard as the ground rushed closer and closer. Flint threw his wings out and banked. Laila felt herself slipping to the side. It took every bit of her strength to hold on as Flint once again twisted and turned.
The Gray was above them now, she saw. Following, but falling behind. Flint’s mighty wings and amazing speed were putting distance between them.
The muscles in his chest quivered with each beat of his wings. She could feel his heart pounding, like a massive drum. How long could he do this? she wondered. How long could he maintain this killing rate?
“Let me down,” she screamed. “you can’t …”
The golden dragon looked back over his shoulder at her. Laila could have sworn he was smirking at her as he gently shook his head, ‘no.’
Instead, he increased his pace.
The ground beneath them rushed past, then suddenly began to change. Where before there had been farms and brown fields along with the occasional cow, now, there was nothing, but dense forests.
A shiver traveled down her spine. This was the true wilderness. As different from Fifth Point as a girl could get.
They skimmed over the massive trees, scaring the birds and animals of the forest into a chaotic panic. Screams of warning and screeches of fear rose up to greet them.
Laila glanced once more at the Gray dragon behind them. Flint had added even more distance. The beast beneath her was unbelievable. Was there nothing it couldn’t do? she wondered.
‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘he can’t love a girl from Fifth Point.’
The thought sent another bolt of pain to her insides.
Dipping her head, she held on, and let Flint fly.
They continued on for quite a while. Each time Laila looked behind her the Gray had fallen farther behind.
At last, the giant monster fell from view. She searched the sky for it. Her heart racing with hope. Yes, it was gone. Flint had done it. He had escaped.
Relaxing, she began to look to what lay before them.
Mountains were approaching. Tall black mountains, with snow covered tops. Her mind wondered if this was why Flint smelled the way he did. Exotic and distant.
Flint turned a little, twisting towards a white cliff. As they approached, Laila squinted to get a better view. Yes, it was. Two long columns had been carved into the cliff face. They reminded her of the columns outside the councils building. Only bigger, taller, more majestic.
A set of steps carved into the cliff face wound their way up from the forest floor. High on the cliff, between the two columns, a black opening like a cave.
“Your lair?” she asked, as her heart jumped. Was he going to imprison her in some deep dark cave? Suddenly she was sure of it. All of the old stories talked of dragons taking young maidens to their cave.
The dragon ignored her as he swooped down to land just before the opening. The sudden return to the ground, even if it was five hundred feet in the air, made her stomach lurch.
What now?
A large flat area, perfect for dragon landings, was carved out of the cliff face. Two huge oaken doors blocked the cave entrance. Her shoulders shivered as she looked at them. What was behind them? What hidden horrors awaited her?
Flint, the dragon, shifted away from the cliff edge as he lowered his wing. The large dragon’s head twisted to look back at her. Laila could tell he wanted her to get off. He almost seemed to be in a hurry.
What? He couldn’t get away from her fast enough?
Well, to hell with him. She swung her leg over his neck and dropped to the ground without using his wing to dismount.
Backing away, she studied him. There really hadn’t been time before. Every scale glistened in the sun. Every muscle rippled with strength. The beast’s long, spiked tail twitched like an impatient cat, and his eyes studied her as if were bothered.
Laila’s heart pounded in her chest. He was pure power, pure strength. Hard and scary, but inside, it was Flint.
A creak behind her made her jump. She twisted to face a new danger. Would it be another dragon? Was she to be a meal? The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she frantically wished for her dagger. Why had she ever left it behind?
One of the large doors slowly swung open. This wasn’t a cave, she realized. But a castle built into the mountain itself.
An older woman stepped out. Dressed in a fine burgundy gown, the woman looked as if she owned the world. Tall, stately, Laila knew instantly that this woman had never lived in a place like Fifth Point. You can’t look that imperious if you’ve ever lived in Fifth Point.
The woman’s dark hair was beginning to gray. Her blue eyes examined Laila with cold, calculating evaluation, then softened just a little when she looked at the mighty dragon.
The lack of shock on the woman’s face told Laila a lot. It seemed that dragons on her front doorstep were not that unusual.
As Laila watched the woman approach, a pop sounded behind her. She twisted to see a pillar of gold fire and smoke shrink to a vanishing point.
Her heart fell to her knees when Flint, the man Flint, stepped out of the fire. He looked as calm and comfortable as yesterday’s meal. Fully dressed. Not a hair out of place, not a sign of exertion. Nothing to indicate he had just flown across the sky pursued by a fire-breathing dragon.
Chapter Fifteen
The man looked like he’d stepped out for a Sunday meal at a good friend’s house. Laila hated him for it. How dare he look so perfect?
“Flint?” the stately woman said, as the big doors closed behind her. “This is a surprise.”
“I know, Mother, I can explain,” he answered with a sheepish look. “But, I am in a bit of a hurry.”
Laila’s jaw dropped, who knew that Flint could look sheepish.
Mother! Did he say, Mother?
She twisted around to look at the woman, again. Yes, she could see it, now. The same cheekbones. The ones that looked sharp enough to carve a roasted chicken. The same piercing look that seemed to be able to work its way into her soul and see the truth.
Laila swallowed hard. His mother. Why hadn’t he warned her? She felt her insides scrunch up as her heart raced. For some reason, the thought of meeting Flint’s mother terrified her more than flying through the air being chased by another dragon.
The woman glanced at Laila, then back at her son. She slowly raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what bad habits you might have picked up,” the woman said, “but here, at home, we remember our manners.”
Flint gave a heavy sigh. He looked as if he wished he could be anywhere, but there. Sighing again, he said, “Mother, I’d like you to meet Laila Mason of Quaster. Laila, my mother, Queen Matilda of Perralt.”
Laila saw a guilty look slowly cross his face as he made the introductions. It took her a moment to process what he had said.
“Queen?” she asked him.
He nodded affirmatively, unable to look her directly in the eye.
“Your mother?” she asked again, her hands on her hips. She could feel a deep anger beginning to build inside of her. “That makes you a prince?”
Again, Flint nodded, ‘yes.’
“And, you live in a castle?” she asked again, fighting to keep her voice under control.
Flint swallowed hard and nodded.
“You bastard,” Laila said, as her hand, of its own voliti
on, slapped him across the face.
His eyes looked down at her with true pain. Not from her hand. But, what he had done to her.
She was furious. How dare he? Pawn her off on some lump of a prince. When all the time he was a prince himself, with his very own castle.
What? She wasn’t good enough for him? No, not her. Sure, he could use her body, but never her. Not the special Flint. He was too good for her. He was a prince!
She reached back to slap him again. The pain in her hand where it had met his cheek made her think again. He wasn’t worth it.
Turning, she tried to find the beginning of the stairs. She wasn’t staying. No way.
“Mother,” he said. “Please take care of her, I’ll be right back. We were pursued by the Gray.”
“The Gray?” his mother said with widened eyes. Laila was surprised to see the woman react. The fact that Flint had shown up on her doorstep with a strange woman had barely registered. It probably happened all the time.
But, the fact that another dragon had chased them. That concerned her.
“I’ll be back in just a little bit. I will explain then,” Flint said to Laila. Then, before she could respond. The man turned away and jumped off the cliff.
Laila gasped and ran to the edge, just in time to see a glorious dragon beat his wings and soar into the sky.
The man was infuriating, she thought. Absolutely infuriating.
The woman, Flint’s mother, Laila reminded herself, stepped up next to her.
“I am sure that was called for,” she said, obviously referring to the slap Laila had given her son. “It usually is. But, next time, slap him on the left side. He broke his jaw when he was little. Slapping him there might get through that thick head of his.”
Laila gasped, had the woman just told her how to hurt her son? Where was she and who were these people?
They both stared out over the cliff face at the departing dragon. Racing to meet their pursuer.
Laila’s heart lurched. What if he didn’t come back?
.o0o.
The look in Laila’s eyes haunted Flint, and the feel of her open hand slapping his cheek would stay with him for a long time.
The woman despised him. No doubt about it. She both hated and feared him. He had known it would be like this. How could it not? The woman was strong, independent, the last thing she would ever accept is being deceived.
Scanning the blue sky, Flint searched for his nemesis. It would be best to get to the Gray as far from home as possible. Besides, he had a score to settle. It was because of the Gray that Laila knew the truth about him. Not only that, the bastard had almost killed her.
A surge of anger flowed through him as he bunched his massive dragon shoulders to increase his speed.
Nothing, his enemy, was gone.
Probably afraid, Flint thought. With good reason. What had the beast been thinking? Attacking a Perralt Dragon.
Dipping his wing, he slipped to the left and began to patrol along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He replayed the entire incident in his mind. Examining each act, every gesture.
There was little question that the dragon who had attacked them was the same as the Mr. Gray who had confronted him at the party. The neck scar was a dead giveaway. Flint thought back to the dragon his brother Drake had fought two years ago. Hadn’t Drake left a massive neck wound on that dragon? Could it be the same one?
Flint reached the end of the forest border, where the forest edge met the mountains, and turned back for home.
Maybe it was the same dragon. That meant he was after the coin. Laila’s medallion. That had to be it. That had to be why she had been attacked in the alley.
Everything fit he decided, as his home came into view. He would kill him, the gray dragon, when he found him. There would be no discussion. No warning. The dragon died, the threat to Laila goes away, simple.
He looked at the castle entrance. They were still waiting for him. His stomach turned over as his mind frantically searched for a reason to stay out here. Anything to avoid the look of distaste in Laila’s eyes.
A thought flashed into his mind. He had left Laila alone with his mother. There was no saying what stories his mother was telling the woman.
The thought of these two particular parts of his life rubbing against each other sent a cold shiver down his long spine, all the way to the spike at the end of his tail.
This could not be good. Knowing his mother. This could be extremely bad.
Twisting in mid-air, he hurried for home. The look of disdain from Laila, he could deal with. The stories his mother could tell her not so much.
.o0o.
Laila stood next to the Queen and looked out over the forest. Flint had disappeared into the distance. Her heart pounded in her chest. Not only had the man lied to her, then flown away to face a terrifying, fire-breathing beast, but the man had left her alone with his mother. Mr. Golden Boy was looking less than perfect by the minute.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Flint’s mother said, as she too stared across the . “He knows what he is doing.”
Laila squeezed her hands in front of her and said, “Not all the time.” The words had left her mouth before she could stop them. A bolt of shame flowed through her. Talking like that to Flint’s mother. A queen, no less. What was she doing here? How did she get into this situation?
The Queen looked at her with sparkling eyes and laughed. “No, not always. But, when it comes to fighting he does.”
Laila looked at the Queen with surprise. “I wasn’t worried about Flint. I don’t think there is anyone, or anything, that could defeat him. No, I was worried, that when he returns, I will slap him again and forget to use my left hand.”
The Queen laughed. “He can be a bit infuriating,” she said with a smile.
A noise behind them drew her attention. A beautiful young woman, about her own age, with long red hair, wearing a velvet, emerald green dress, stepped through the castle door.
“Is it Flint?” the young woman said. “I heard that he had returned.”
Laila quickly scanned the cliff walls and mountain tops. They must have a dozen lookouts hidden throughout the area. How else could these people be so well informed?
She studied the young woman as she approached. The concern on her face was quite evident. Laila’s stomach dropped a little. The way she had said Flint’s name told her all she needed to know.
“Gwyn, my dear,” the Queen said, holding out a hand to the woman. “Yes, come join us.”
Was this young woman the reason Flint didn’t want her? Was this another secret? Laila bit the inside of her lip and waited. Her heart hitched a little. The woman was beautiful, no one could argue. She couldn’t really blame Flint. Deep green eyes, full female figure, long neck, and a sweet smile.
“Gwyn,” the Queen said. “Let me introduce a friend of Flint’s. Laila Mason of Quaster. Laila, my daughter, Gwynievere.”
Her daughter? His sister? The tension in Laila’s shoulders relaxed just a little, as if someone had released a band binding her.
Yes, she could see it now. The coloring was different, but the woman had the family cheekbones and that strong, steady stare. Why had she assumed the worse? she wondered. Because it is Flint, she answered herself.
“Is it the Gray?” Gwyn asked, as she joined them to search the skies.
Her mother nodded. “I’ve sent word to Thad, but it will be hours before it reaches him. He did choose a rather poor time to be away.
Gwyn saw Laila’s confused look and smiled. “My other brother, the nicer one. He’s not as big as Flint, not yet. But I’ll bet he’ll be even bigger than Drake by the time he is fully grown.”
Laila’s head spun, how many of them were there, “Drake?” she asked.
“Yes, the oldest. He married Queen Elsbeth of Lushcany.”
Laila’s world crashed around her feet. Would the lies and deceptions never end? The Ambassador, the family crest. Everything was tangled up together, and all to get a stupid
coin that she would have sold for a dozen silvers and a good meal.
A burning anger started to build inside her. A raging need to explode bubbled just below the surface. Where was he? She needed him in front of her, right now.
“There he is,” the Queen said pointing off into the distance.
Laila looked, a small black speck marred the crystal blue sky. As she watched, it grew, gaining size and form. It was Flint, there was no doubt. And, he looked well, strong, majestic, and unharmed.
Good, she thought. Now there would be nothing to stop her.
The dragon swooped past them one time, then turned and landed with a solid thud. Before Laila could react, the golden dragon burst into flame once more and revealed Flint.
He bowed his head to his mother, then smiled at his sister.
“They’re letting you out in public now?” he teased his sister. She laughed and threw herself into his arms.
“Oh, it’s so good to have you home. Are you here to stay?”
Both of them looked at their mother.
“We will see.” Their mother said with an imperious tone that Laila found amazing. Three simple words and the world knew this woman was in charge.
Flint stepped away from his sister and glanced at Laila. She clenched her hands into fists as she fought to hold her tongue. She didn’t need to make a scene, not now, not here.
“You bastard,” she said, unable to control herself. “You, insufferable, arrogant, lying, beast.”
“What? What did I do?” he asked with a bewildered expression that pushed her over the edge of sanity.
She looked around on the ground for something to throw at him. Anything, a stone, a stick, but there was nothing. The landing area was as clean as a freshly scrubbed dining table.
Turning back to stare at him, she gave him the meanest, coldest look she could muster. “There are too many things you have done. And, the fact that you don’t even know is probably the worst one of all.”
With that, she turned to begin the long decent down the stairs to the forest below. She needed to be away from him. Now, before she said something that couldn’t be taken back.
“Laila, wait,” he said as he ran to stop her.
