by Megg Jensen
Bastian strode in. "Ignore her," he said. "She's the one who told the other healers how to trap my dragon."
The men of the Black Guard stood in a semicircle, the tips of their swords pointing toward the marble floor.
Bastian elbowed his way in front of them, curious what had them so stunned. What trick was Elinor playing on them now?
What he saw rocked his resolve. It erased his anger. Every drop of blood in his veins ran cold until he thought his skin would crack.
Elinor was naked, bound hand and foot to a table. Red marks slashed across her body, covered in dried blood. Bastian ran to her side. "Who did this to you?" He stroked her hair and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"Bastian." It came out a whisper.
He stepped back, his sword raised. "Don't move," he told her, though her limbs were pulled so tight she probably couldn't. He brought his sword down on the first set of ropes, cutting her left arm free. "Help me!" He shot Marden an angry look.
The mountainous man lumbered over and hacked the ropes binding Elinor's feet free while Bastian severed the final rope holding her right arm. Bastian cradled Elinor's head and draped his cloak around her. "Don't move too fast."
She cracked a small smile. "I won't, don't worry. Who's the healer here?"
Bastian's heart felt heavy in his chest. Tressa's final abandonment had led him to a whorehouse instead of staying with his friends. "I thought you’d betrayed us," he said to Elinor.
Her eyes darkened a little. "I wouldn't do that. I thought you knew..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes rolled and she slackened in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Elinor," he whispered in her ear. "I am so, so sorry. Who did this?" Bastian whipped his head around the room, but there was no one other than the Black Guard.
"It doesn't matter. We have the throne back." Marden ran a hand over the arm of the throne.
Bastian laughed. "You think you're going to sit in it?"
"Perhaps," Marden said, "but I can guard it until an appropriate ruler tries to claim it." His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at Bastian. "That isn't you."
"I don't want it," Bastian said, assuring him. "I just want my friend."
"The dragon?" Marden asked. He signaled to his men, and one by one they filed into the hallway.
"Yes." Bastian looked down at Elinor. "Elinor too."
"I thought she sold you out." Marden snorted. "It's why the only women I allow my men are whores. Women can cloud your judgment. Make a man weak."
Bastian looked down at Elinor's golden locks, peppered with flecks of her own blood. His heart felt a familiar tug. Yes, women did influence him, but he refused to look at it as a weakness. In Hutton's Bridge, they'd been encouraged to see sex and marriage only as a means to keep their society trapped within the fog alive. He'd felt something taboo for Tressa, but not for any other woman.
He had to admit Elinor could spur similar feelings given the chance.
No, it wasn't weakness. It was his humanity.
"I have to find the dragon." Bastian lifted Elinor into his arms. She felt so small, so helpless, her head resting against his chest.
Marden shook his head. "The dragon is mine. You promised."
"I need to talk to him."
Marden's laughter bounced off the marble walls. "Talk to a dragon? Are you insane?"
Bastian had forgotten for a moment that Marden didn't know humans could turn into dragons. It was a well-kept secret in a land filled with magic.
"I have my ways of communicating with him. Don't forget, no one can take the throne without the dragon. You only have one half of the power, and it's not the half that matters."
"True." Marden nodded. "I will have my men guard the throne while you and I search for the dragon." He pointed at Elinor. "She stays here. I will have one of my men compel a healer to help her."
Bastian glanced down at Elinor. Now that he'd found her, he didn't want to leave her behind. The stairs to the caverns under the castle were too precarious to carry her with him. And there was nothing down there to help her. Only another possible fight with the people who'd taken control of the castle.
"I don't want Barden in charge," Bastian insisted before he would set Elinor down. The man was a fighter, but he was an idiot too. "Choose someone with more than half a brain." He knew Barden was Marden's brother, but he didn't care. It had to be said.
To his surprise, Marden cracked a smile. "Understood. Edgar will protect your woman. After we make sure the dragon knows he takes orders from me, you'll get her back."
"Agreed," Bastian said, shaking the man's massive paw.
Still, he wasn't so sure he was willing to hand Connor over either. He'd have to figure that out when the time came.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Bastian led Marden and his men down the dank tunnels leading to the underground haven few seemed to know about. With each day, the castle revealed its secrets to more and more people.
If Elinor hadn't told, could the other healers have been simply lucky, finding the hidden cache? Bastian doubted it. There had to be more he didn't know.
But all Bastian cared about was finding Connor and the eggs, freeing them. He was no longer the leader of the Blue. He wanted nothing to do with whatever machinations were in progress.
Bastian and Marden stepped into the cavern where Connor had hidden the eggs. Empty. Not even the stones on the ground showed evidence of the effort it must have taken to drag the eggs out. Bastian had tried to lift one back in the cave in the forest. It hadn't budged. Only Connor had been able to move them.
Perhaps he'd done it again, but under duress this time.
He'd do anything for those eggs. Bastian knew his friend's heart. Even if Connor didn't remember his own little boys, he treated those eggs as if they were his children.
"Where do we look now?" Bastian asked, hoping Marden knew the tunnels under the castle better than he did. "This is the only place I knew of."
Marden shrugged. "I wish I knew."
"Don't you know these tunnels?" Bastian asked, incredulous. The man was a member of the most elite security force in the Drowned Lands. He had to have some grasp of the tunnels in and out of the castle.
"I don't," Marden admitted. "We were told to keep out, upon sentence of death. So I did. I told all of my men to stay away, too."
A man behind them cleared his throat. It was the man Stacia had been having her way with when Bastian was brought before her, just before she died. "I've been here before. Stacia, she'd take me down here sometimes."
"This isn't Darren's first time in the Black Guard," Marden said to Bastian with a roll of his eyes. "How long have you known about these tunnels?" he asked Darren.
A slight blush spread across Darren’s face. "Stacia liked to escape down here sometimes and she'd take me with her. We'd had a relationship." His eyes wide, he looked around at his fellow guards. Most of them stood with arms crossed over their chests or eyes wide. Aland's jaw had dropped. "She said someday she'd marry me." Darren shook his head. "She was lying, wasn't she?"
Marden nodded. "It's okay. There isn't a moment where all of us haven't been distracted by a beautiful, willing woman."
The other men grunted in agreement. Bastian had to admit the same. A willing woman was hard to resist. Even though he’d hated Stacia and everything she stood for, he could understand how another man might be tempted by her beauty and power.
"Do you know of any other places down here that are large enough for a few dragon eggs and a dragon? Somewhere comfortable enough for the highest ranking healer to hide?" Marden asked Darren.
"Yes," he said. "There is a place where we'd go occasionally. I think it might have the space required to hold a few dragon eggs." He held up a hand. "But I'm warning you. Your eyes have never set on a place like this before. Don't be surprised. And," he paused, a lump bobbing in his throat, "don't judge me for it."
Marden pursed his lips together. "Lead on."
Darren led them down dark and narrow corridors.
Bastian felt something run across the top of his boots. Remembering how Elinor had laughed at him earlier, he kept his disgust to himself. The rats wouldn't kill him. The men around him were another story. He didn't trust them. He was sure they didn't trust him.
He squinted his eyes, attempting to glean any solid form in front of him. They'd neglected to bring more than one torch, and being in the middle of the single file group of men, Bastian couldn't see much. Each man put a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. It was the only way to assure no one would wander off in another direction.
They walked for what seemed an interminable amount of time. Bastian's legs were growing weary. Not just from the walking, but also from the night he'd spent with the whore. She'd kept him up in an effort to make more coin. He hadn't argued. Now he was paying for it with more than just the gold he'd taken from Stacia's stockpile of treasure.
The man in front of Bastian stopped abruptly. Bastian halted and so did the men behind him. So they'd made it to the secret room Darren had spoken of. Bastian's blood pulsed in his veins. His heart thumped a hard beat. Battle might lie ahead. He grasped the hilt of his sword with his free hand. In front of them, a door was flung open, spilling light into the hallway. Someone was there. No one would be stupid enough to leave unattended torches burning. An erratic whistle swept through the air as swords were unsheathed. Bastian held tight to his, leaving it at his leg for the moment. He didn't want to accidentally injure someone in front of him. He could only hope the men behind him were as courteous.
"An egg!" Marden exclaimed. "And one man. Keep your blades ready, men." He guffawed. "Where there be a dragon egg, the dragon will not be far away."
One by one, they spilled into the room. The walls were drenched in a blood red ochre. Strange instruments of all kinds hung from the walls. Metallic cuffs. Maces with ends sharpened to a point. Feathers of all shapes and sizes drifted along another wall. Chains hung from the ceiling, swaying with the breeze the men had kicked up storming into the room. Marden turned around, taking everything in. "What is this place? A room of torture?"
"No," Bastian said. "What would the feathers be used for? Tickling the person to death? And there," he pointed over Darren's shoulder, "that looks like a bed."
Aland stood next to Darren and gaped at him. "What manner of room is this?"
"Yes," Marden said, "what exactly did you do here with Stacia?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Darren said, the blush returning to his face.
Bastian wasn't sure he wanted to know. He turned to the man hiding in the corner, his arms over his face. Bastian recognized him.
Connor. As a human. Naked. They'd found their dragon, but only Bastian knew. He'd need to tread carefully. Making his way over to his friend, who sat on a moth-eaten blanket on the floor, Bastian tried to catch his eye. Connor kept his head down.
He was asleep. Not dead. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders spoke the truth. Bastian crouched next to Connor. "It's me. We'll get out of this together."
"Is he injured, Bastian?" Marden called from across the room.
Bastian could have kissed him for the idea. He wasn't good at thinking fast on his feet, but he would take an opportunity when it was presented. "Yes, I believe so. He isn't responsive." He said it as much for Connor's benefit as Marden's. He hoped his friend would follow his lead. Connor was always the smart one. Even though he'd changed when he became a dragon, his instincts were still intact.
"There were plenty of guards on the outside, but no guards in the throne room with that girl. None down here. Just an injured man and an egg. Strange. What happened here?" Marden asked.
Connor's hands circled around Bastian's throat, yanking him backward. His chin pushed upward, cutting off his breathing.
"I happened." Connor's voice dripped with venom.
Bastian fought against his friend, more for the benefit of the men of the Black Guard than actual attempt at escape. He wanted them to think Connor was trying to hurt him.
He knew his friend wouldn't.
Connor's arm flexed harder. Everything in the room swam in front of Bastian. The feathers on the wall spun in circles.
Bastian's head screamed at him to fight back, but he forced himself to fight only a little. Not to hurt Connor. To play along with what had to be part of the ruse.
"I will kill him if you come any closer," Connor said.
Bastian felt the cold steel of a knife against his throat. Blood dripped. His blood.
Connor had cut him with a knife he'd stolen from Bastian's hip. It was a superficial wound, but it was a warning.
Bastian was no longer sure where his friend's loyalties lay.
Chapter Forty
Bastian thrust his elbow backward into Connor's chest. His friend grunted. His grip around Bastian's neck slackened. Bastian jumped to the side. Connor leaped to the other side, the knife in his hand.
"You'll all die. I will kill all of you." He waved the knife in the air.
Marden laughed. "What can you do against my men?"
"I can kill you the same as I killed the others." Connor stood still, his eyes narrow, his lips set in a straight line.
"You killed the healers who took control of the castle?" Aland asked. "If that's true, where are their bodies?"
Bastian had a sinking feeling he knew. "The dragon?" It was a question. One he already knew the answer to. Connor had exacted his revenge. In this form, Connor had only one focus: to protect his dragon children. Only one egg was here. The others were missing, which explained Connor's unbridled anger.
Connor's eyes were wild, unfocused. Anger pulsed behind his brown irises. It was a look born of revenge.
Bastian reached out, placing a hand on Connor's arm, trusting his friend wouldn't hurt him. Not again. "Where is Fotia?"
Connor glared at him. "Where were you? I needed you last night. We needed you.”
"You two know each other?" Marden asked, curious. He tapped the side of his cheek with one beefy finger.
"I met him in the forest," Bastian said. "After I escaped the Blue. Right before I found the dragon." It was the truth, after all. He had found Connor first. "He helped me protect the dragon egg. He's a loyal man."
"He seems more loyal to the dragon than to you," Marden quipped. "He threatens us. I don't like that."
"Please, Connor, put the knife down. Marden and his men are here to help," Bastian begged his friend. He put pressure on Connor's arm, attempting to force him to lower his knife.
Connor resisted.
"Please, Connor," Bastian said. "Drop your knife."
"They'll take the egg." Connor's gaze switched to the egg against the wall. "Where are the others?" he screamed.
"We will help you find and protect the eggs if the dragon serves us." Marden held his sword at the ready. Bastian knew Marden could take Connor down quickly. The man was powerful and Connor was outnumbered. It wasn't a contest. Connor needed to choose life.
"The dragon will never serve you," Connor said. He spat on the floor. "The dragon detests men like you. No honor. You abandoned your post when your queen was defeated. You did nothing to protect the throne. Two different people have taken the throne since you walked out the doors. Now you want it back? If another one of the dragonlords attacks, will you walk out the door again? What makes you worthy?"
Bastian had wondered the same thing. He hadn't cared what the answer was. Clearly Connor did.
Marden fumed. "You are no one. You are not allowed to question me."
"And yet I did," Connor said. "Are you afraid to answer? Perhaps we can walk calmly back up to the throne room and discuss this like gentlemen. Leave a few of your men to guard the egg."
Then it occurred to Bastian. If Connor changed in this room, he would be trapped. The dragon was too big for the doorway. He wanted everyone out of the room so he could attack.
Bastian meant him no harm. He only wanted his friend back. Together they could find their children. He couldn't do it without Connor. He
was only one man. But Connor no longer needed Bastian. The more his dragon side took over, the less he cared about his previous life.
"No," Bastian said. He held an arm between the two men. "Don't leave this room. When you do, you'll die."
Marden laughed again. "All this drama. Are we soldiers or actors dressing as women for a play? We won't die, Bastian. One man cannot kill us. All of you, with me. We will post a guard at the entrance."
Bastian wrestled with the truth. Tell it and expose his friend. Hold back and watch these men die in front of him, with only a small sliver of hope Connor would spare his life. One by one the men filed out of the room.
A grin spread across Connor's face, his teeth glinting in the firelight. Bastian glimpsed a hint of red lodged between two of Connor’s teeth. Was it a piece of one of the healers who'd stolen the throne and the eggs, his flesh torn by the dragon inside Connor?
Bastian took a deep breath, making his choice.
Connor followed the last two men out of the room. Both of them flanked the doorway, hands on the hilt of their swords, ready to fight an intruder. "Coming?" Connor asked Bastian.
Bastian ran a hand along the top of the egg. His fingers brushed over the ridges and valley until a crack in the egg surprised him. He tapped his fingers three times gently on the shell. Satisfied he'd found what he'd been searching for, Bastian nodded. "Of course, my friend. I'm coming."
"After you." Connor swept out a hand.
Bastian nodded. He clamped a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. Connor's rested lightly on his. Bastian took a deep breath, his shoulders moving up and relaxing back down again. Connor's hand curled, his nails digging into Bastian's shoulders.
It was a warning. Or a promise. Bastian wasn't sure. He wanted to believe they were in this together. He wanted to know that his friend was still in there, fighting to control the dark side that was slowly overtaking him.
Down the hall they walked, steady, even steps. They arrived in the cavern and Marden took an immediate turn toward the stairway leading up to the castle proper. Connor's hand left Bastian’s shoulder.
