Dragon's Ground (The Desert Cursed Series Book 2)

by Shannon Mayer

  “Mount up, time to run.” I spun toward Balder and pulled myself onto his back, the weight of my sodden clothes hampering my movements.

  “What is it?” Kiara asked.

  “Gorcs, lots of them.” I put my heels to Balder and he took off, Kiara and her mount right behind us. Marcel dropped the blanket and kept up surprisingly well.

  This was very bad. I couldn’t fight off that many gorcs on my own, not even if I pulled the flail. That seething mass had to hold at least eighty, maybe more of the Jinn’s creations.

  Eighty.

  I’d not seen a horde like that in years, not since my father had still been alive.

  “Water, find water. They don’t like it and aren’t strong swimmers,” Marcel yelled through the weather at me.

  Normally I would have laughed in his face. This was, after all, a desert, but with the rain coming down like this, water was a distinct possibility.

  My mind raced as I tried to piece together the terrain in front of us. This close to the Stockyards, I knew it better than others, but I was turned around with the weather. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky as we galloped across the terrain that was turning from hard-packed footing to sloppy mud bath.

  “Kiara, where is Hangman’s Gorge?”

  She shot a look at me. “Are you insane? It will be flooded and running too fast!”

  “The horses can swim it. I’m sure.” I was sure of no such thing. But I knew if we didn’t survive the gorcs, there would be no one to go after Bryce, no one to tell Lila that she was important and still a part of my family. Kiara wouldn’t survive, nor her child.

  “Where is it?” I repeated louder with a growl to the words.

  Her jaw tightened, and she tipped her head for me to follow. I tucked Balder in tightly to her horse’s rump, and as we ran, I tied them together.

  Kiara’s eyes widened. “We can’t. We’ll all die!”

  “You want to get eaten by a gorc? That’s a sure thing. This is a chance to make it.”

  I wasn’t sure she heard me over the pounding rain and the boom of thunder that was coming faster and harder, but she gave a single shake of her head. Yeah, I didn’t think so either.

  “What about me?” Marcel yelled.

  I yanked a rope from my saddlebags and threw him an end, then tied the middle to me, then handed the end to Kiara. “Together or not at all. That’s how this works!”

  The horses stopped, and we stared down the long loose slope that led to Hangman’s Gorge. The valley was normally empty, dry, and barren except for the occasional hawk hunting for a rodent.

  Now the water raged, frothing and mud-filled, as it seemed to jump over itself in an effort to gather speed. Clumps of bush and sticks washed through the water, and I knew the debris could be as dangerous as the water itself. The river was at least a hundred feet across. More in places.

  I looked back and in a flash of lightning saw the gorc horde. They were not even a mile back now and they saw me.

  “Hang tight to your horse, Kiara. We all swim hard, we all swim together, and we can make it across.”

  “You aren’t really sure, are you?” she asked.

  I grabbed her by the arm and shook her. “I would not do this if I did not think we could survive. So, get your spine and straighten it the fuck out.”

  She blinked away the rain, or maybe it was tears, I didn’t know and at that moment didn’t care. But she did give me a nod. I stepped back behind Balder and took hold of his tail. “Here we go.”

  I gave him a soft kissing noise, and he started down the slope, his back feet sliding deeply into the loose and muddy soil all the way up to the top of his hocks. The angle was steep enough that the best we could do was a careful slide that sent rocks and sand rushing down the slope. A gallop in the dark in this footing would leave us with broken legs and necks.

  I kept up a running set of instructions because I knew Kiara was scared, and I had no doubt Marcel wasn’t happy either. Satyrs were not known for their ability to swim.

  “When we get to the bottom, let Balder lead. He’ll swim first and pull Lacey behind him. You and me will hang on to their tails. It’s easier for them. Marcel, you do what you can. Keep your head above water and try not to get snagged on anything.”

  “Got it,” Marcel said. “But you’re earning yourself pretty much anything you want after this. I might even offer to marry you.”

  “Ha!” I barked a laugh. “Been there, done that, got the ex to prove it.”

  Kiara said something that was rather unladylike that might have been along the lines of “fucking witch.” Marcel made a fake gasp. I grinned at him like an idiot as the rain hammered around us. The thing was, with certain death behind us, and possible death ahead of us, letting off a bit of stupid steam was not a bad thing.

  We were near the bottom of the slope when the first arrow slammed into the ground, the tip of the feathers blazing with a blue flame to mark where we were.

  “Time to run,” I said and then hissed at Balder. He bolted forward, taking Kiara’s horse with him. I wrapped his tail around my wrist a split second before Balder plunged into the frothing waters. My horse trusted me above anyone else, and even though most horses would have hesitated at the deadly rush, he dove in, swimming hard as the current caught hold of us.

  “Good boy!” I yelled at him as blue flaming arrows shot through the air around us, sizzling as they hit the water. I didn’t dare look back to see where Marcel was, I could feel his weight on the end of the rope. Worse, I could feel him drag me down, the rope tightening around my middle and making it difficult to breathe.

  I fought to stay afloat, fought to keep enough air in my lungs as the water pounded around us. A stick swung at my face, the end of it catching me in the side of the head. For a split second, I saw stars and I thought that was it, I would die in the water, the gorcs would feast on my bones and that would be the end of my story.

  A cat dying in the water seemed such an ironic way to end my life after everything I’d faced.

  But as suddenly as we were in the river, struggling through it, there was solid ground under my feet and I realized that Balder and Lacey were literally dragging us down the bank of the river, away from the gorcs. At top speed, our bodies hitting hard.

  I bounced along, smashing into rocks and dips in the ground and feeling the inevitable bruises bloom, unable to get my feet under me any more than Kiara or Marcel could. Or I assumed, anyway. With my free hand, I grabbed a kukri blade and cut the rope between me and Marcel first, then between Kiara and me.

  “Balder, ease up,” I hollered, and he began to slow, dropping from a full-out gallop to a slow trot and then a walk. Even there, my legs didn’t want to cooperate. They wanted to buckle and leave me kneeling on the loose soil. I brushed water from my eyes and looked around. We’d taken a few corners in the valley and put distance between us and the gorcs. More than that, the river was wider where we stood now, which had to help. Thank the desert gods that gorcs weren’t the brightest stars in the sky. It would take them days to realize they could go around the gorge.

  Kiara lay on her side. I stared at her. “Think shifting to lion form is tough on your body now?”

  “I hate you,” she whispered.

  I shrugged. “You wanted to come along for the fun. Remember that you could have stayed with Ish and trusted Steve to get the job done, but you didn’t. Deep down, you know he’s a fucking loser or you would have let your life ride on his abilities.”

  She sat up, and for a second, I thought she’d launch herself at me. That would get ugly fast and my heart didn’t want to go there. Because a part of me still loved that little girl I’d saved from the gorcs all those years ago.

  “You didn’t have to save that satyr. You could have left him and the gorcs would have never found us!” she screamed at me while the weather crashed around us. I stared at her.

  “You’re a selfish, self-centered, little girl. Someone was in trouble. It’s our job to help them if we can,
” I said, knowing she would hear me over the pounding rain. “My father was right to run your pride off.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  I shook my head, cursing myself for saying that. For letting it slip. “Get up, we need to move.”

  “What did you say?” She grabbed my arm and twisted me around, the most aggression I’d ever seen from her. I sighed.

  “Your pride was a blight. They were weak. They cared nothing for anyone besides themselves. My father ran them off before you were born.”

  She stumbled back from me. “No.”

  “You don’t have to be like them, Kiara. You can be better.” I turned my back on her. “I want you to be better.”

  Marcel let out a low groan from the water’s edge. “We’re headed north east from here.”

  Good enough for me. I didn’t wait for either of them. They would follow me, or they wouldn’t. Either way, I was done babying them. I was trying to get to Lila and then Bryce. These two fools had chosen to come along for the ride.

  Three, I supposed, if I counted Kiara’s child. I gritted my teeth and stumbled along in front of Balder. My horse was in no better shape than me. How long had we been in the river? I couldn’t have said. It felt like hours and over in a split second at the same time.

  Balder and I stumbled, leaning on one another down the valley until it widened enough that there was another path heading up and out. Again, I held onto his tail, letting him pull me up the steep slope. By the sounds of the hooves behind us, Kiara and Marcel were still following.

  As we crested the top of the slope, I leaned against Balder, staring at the figure in front of us. A satyr, yes, but she was twice the size of Marcel with breasts that somehow fought gravity and won even though they were easily the size of watermelons. I stared at her through the rain, putting the pieces together.

  “You must be Rev’s wife,” I said.

  She drew close to me, and her face twisted with a fit of rage I’d not counted on. With the cold wet soaking through my muscles, I couldn’t dodge the large wooden weapon that came crashing down on my skull.

  Chapter 8

  Merlin let out a groan. “That’s putting her right in the path of the Jinn. Damn it, you said that thunderstorm would push them the other direction.”

  Flora stomped a foot and brushed past him to look deep into the orb. “Well, if the girl had any sense, she would have let the river block their path and push them back the other direction.”

  “You forgot about the gorcs.”

  “Nasty beasts,” she muttered. “There is nothing for it. She will just have to avoid the Jinn.”

  Merlin nodded slowly. “Unless we can do something about it. The Jinn are not far from us, Flora. They do not know you or me. We can perhaps give them something to chase?”

  “You are kidding me, right?” But she was already following him as he led his way out of the small domicile they shared, at least temporarily. He got the two horses ready and Flora mounted without another question, despite her obvious reservations. Now that she was working with him to help Zamira do what she had to do, Flora would not hold back. He knew that much about her. Once she committed, it was with her whole heart.

  They rode out in silence through the middle of the night. There was a time to talk to Flora about his plans, and a time to surprise her. This was one of the latter moments.

  She wouldn’t agree with what he had planned, so best to throw her into the deep end with no warning.

  Ahead of them, the rain had eased off, but not in a natural manner. No, the Jinn were holding the weather off themselves. Well, except for their prisoner.

  As they drew close, Merlin could see something—a body perhaps?—staked out, hands and feet spread wide, face-down in the mud as the rainstorm hammered his body. Other than that body, there were four Jinn, all lower than Maks in power but together they could hold him. Interesting. If that figure in the mud was Maks, it said a great deal about his placement in the Jinn hierarchy.

  “Hello, there,” Merlin called out with a hand over his head. “Could we share your fire for a bit? There are some nasty-looking gorcs out hunting tonight. Perhaps stronger numbers could keep us all safe.”

  Flora snorted at his words, but he knew the Jinn perhaps better than anyone else. That being said, they reported directly to the emperor. He would have to tread carefully.

  Very, very carefully.

  “Go away,” the smallest of the Jinn said. “We don’t share our fire with other supes.”

  Flora dismounted and sashayed into the middle of the clearing, her soaking wet clothes clinging to her lovely, dangerous curves. “I just want to warm my hands a minute if you boys don’t mind then.”

  All four Jinn perked up. Powerful supes they might be, but they were still male, and Flora was most definitely a beautiful woman. Merlin had to hold back a smile of appreciation for how quickly she took control of the situation.

  Men should be warned not to trifle with a priestess of Zeus.

  He stood on the outskirts and let her do the magic that only a woman could. His ears picked up a noise that sounded like a groan and he turned his head ever so slightly. Outside the circle where the rain was being kept clear, there was indeed a figure pinned face-down. The dirty blond hair and wide shoulders confirmed his suspicion. . . Maks was on the shit side of the Jinns.

  “Those gorcs, they were running south hard.” Flora gave an over-the-top shudder. “You think they could be headed for something big, maybe? A fight?” Flora flicked those eyelashes of hers a few times, and the Jinn closest to her leaned her way. While they were occupied, Merlin slowly made his way toward their prisoner. The Jinn normally didn’t take their own kind prisoner. In fact, he had never heard of a case where one Jinn had turned on another. Ever. So just what was going on with Maks and his fellows here?

  Why would they pin him down like this? Had he. . . fought them? Considering who his father was, Merlin struggled to see how this situation could have come to be.

  Standing just inside the barrier that kept the rain from falling, he glanced down at Maks. “What exactly are you doing out here?”

  “Fuck,” Maks muttered into the mud, which made Merlin inexplicably happy. He didn’t like the Jinn any better than Zamira did, but for different reasons. They belonged to the Emperor and the Emperor was his enemy.

  “Really, flouncing the mud?” he asked softly.

  Maks pulled against his bonds, but there was a trickle of magic running through them, telling Merlin that Maks was not going home to any sort of glory or honor. He was being taken back to the desert against his will. Likely to be killed.

  “Is Zam okay?” Maks asked.

  Merlin just stared down at the young Jinn as the shock settled around him. The Jinn were not known for caring about anyone, most certainly not their sworn enemies. “What does it matter to you?”

  Maks tried to turn his face, but the magical bonds held tightly. “Is she okay? Did she make it back to Ish with the jewel?”

  Merlin tapped the bottom of Maks’s boot with his own, his thoughts circling around this Jinn and Zamira. “Zam is of no concern for you. You should know that. This is not Romeo and Juliet, Jinn. You cannot have her in your life. It will end up killing her, but not before it shatters her heart.”

  Maks’s back muscles bunched under his shirt. “I just. . . can you make sure she’s safe. Can you handle that much, mage?”

  Merlin frowned. This was not the behavior of a Jinn, not by a long shot. The whole situation was screwball. “What are you really, boy? You aren’t a Jinn, are you?”

  Maks pulled at the ropes again and Merlin took a step back. He couldn’t help Maks and get away with it even if he wanted to, and he really wasn’t all that interested.

  But Zamira needed to find her strength, and she was drawn to this one. . . much as Merlin might hate it. Besides, if Maks wasn’t a Jinn in truth, that changed things.

  Merlin walked over to where the horses were tied, finding the one that belonged
in the Stockyards. “Batman, is it?” he muttered softly. He didn’t dare place a spell on the beast to be able to find Zamira, but he was betting she was close enough that the horse would find her on his own. He cut the hobbles from around Batman’s fetlocks and then made a shooing motion with his hands.

  As soon as Batman backed up, Merlin turned and strode toward the fire. Flora had kept the Jinn watching her with the attentiveness a starving man gave a buffet. He grabbed her arm and kept walking. “Time to go. I just remembered I left a pot on the stove.”

  “What?” she squawked, and he tugged her arm a little harder.

  “Wave goodbye to the nice men. Thank you for allowing us to warm up a bit.”

  She waved but frowned at him as he all but shoved her onto the back of her horse.

  He climbed aboard his own mount and gave it a hard boot, sending it out into the weather.

  Flora kept up and he ignored her questions as they galloped away from the Jinn’s encampment. To the left of him in a flash of lightning, he saw Batman race northward.

  Toward where he knew Zamira lay unconscious.

  Flora finally got in front of him with her horse, forcing him to stop. “Are you insane? What is going on?”

  He opened his mouth but didn’t dare tell her what he’d done. That he’d acted on a whim, on a belief that maybe love had a place in this world after all. That maybe love was what Zamira needed, not more challenges. Because he knew what Flora would say. That he was a sentimental old fool who had no idea what he’d just done.

  “I think that’s enough time. I was worried they would pick up on our abilities.”

  She frowned. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t telling me all the truth? What did that boy Maks say?”

  Damn, so she noticed him talking to Maks.

  “Nothing of importance. Protesting his innocence. The usual words of a condemned man.”

  As soon as he said condemned, he knew it was true even though Maks had said no such thing. Marsum would not allow a traitor to live, and if they’d staked the young Jinn out like that, then that was what Maks was. A traitor.