“I would do it again, if it would save you.”
“I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” He drew back to look into her face. “Don’t you know what you mean to me?” He stroked his paw across her cheek.
She reached her own velvety paw to his snout and smiled. “I love you, too, Kallon Redheart.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Riza clung to Kallon as sheets of rain drenched them both. He didn’t seem to mind, and neither did she. The rain was medicine to a weary, unfamiliar body that still burned from the change.
Anxious shouts worked their way through the group of dragons who gaped at her. Finally, the shouts grew so loud, Kallon released her to turn and find what the noise was about.
Grayfoot broke through the edge of the circle. “Leader Redheart, Fordon Blackclaw is gone.”
When Kallon looked around himself, Riza nudged him. “He means you, Kallon.”
“But I am not—”
“Leader Redheart,” said Orman, placing his hand on Kallon’s shoulder. “It is time for a command decision.”
Kallon looked from Orman to Riza. She smiled and nodded. He drew himself up, planted his feet against the muddy ground, and lifted his chin. Her heart swelled. For the first time, she felt allowed to love him. She watched the rain gather in tiny puddles against his skull and cascade down his neck scales, and she shivered, but not because she was cold.
“Take four volunteers to cover each direction away from the manor,” said Kallon. “Two to search the ground and two to search the air. If he is found, I would like to question him, but if a fight is inevitable, tell your volunteers it should be his death before theirs.”
Grayfoot looked up at the sky. “The rain will destroy his trail.”
“Yes, and when the volunteers grow tired, replace them. We will search through the night.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I will be along shortly.”
Grayfoot nodded, but hesitated. He glanced toward Riza, but his eyes didn’t linger long, instead fixing on Kallon’s face.
“There is no time to lose, Grayfoot,” said Kallon.
“The council members are gathering in the Great Hall, and wish your attendance.” Grayfoot glanced to Riza again. “About the girl. The, uh, Red.”
Kallon stretched his paw to Riza and smiled. “We will be right there.”
Grayfoot shuffled his feet, but didn’t move.
Kallon turned a scowl to the guard. “Blackclaw is gaining a considerable lead.”
Grayfoot cleared his throat. “The female is not…The council members wish your attendance.” Then Grayfoot darted another quick look to Riza, spun around, and hurried off.
Riza looked up to Kallon. “I suppose they want to talk about me while I’m not there.” She shifted to move, then tried standing for the first time. She reared up to perch on back legs and lost her balance, her forelegs waving about in crazy circles.
Kallon steadied her. “Slowly. Place all four feet down for now.”
She’d forgotten she had four feet. She settled them, and felt oddly as though she were crawling on her hands and knees. Her vision was high. She felt tall as a tree. She even looked down onto the top of Orman’s gray head. She hadn’t realized how thin his hair was. “This will take some getting used to, but I like it.”
Orman smiled up at her. “You are a lovely Red, my dear. Quite lovely.”
The other dragons nodded and murmured. What she really wanted to know was what Kallon thought. She didn’t ask aloud, but searched his face.
He moved close, guiding her head so he could whisper in her ear. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Their eyes met, and she knew he spoke the truth. She blushed a little, and wondered what they were going to do now.
“I’ll meet with the council, keep it brief as possible, and then we’ll find a quiet place to talk.”
She blinked. “Are you reading my mind?”
“Am I?” He looked between her and Orman.
A young Gray sidled up to Riza, eyeing her. She poked a claw at her foreleg. “Are you real? My mother says you are a trick.”
Riza stretched out her paw for the Gray to inspect. “I am quite real.”
“How come you are a dragon now? I thought humans hate dragons.”
“Not all humans hate dragons.”
“So, how come?” asked the young one. “Does it hurt? Did it hurt when you were in that wind? Were you scared? Are you going to stay a dragon?”
Other females descended and pressed in close. “We saw you die for Kallon Redheart.”
“Is Kallon going to be our new leader?”
“Did you want to be a Red, or was it luck?”
“Are you going to stay? Are you going to be Kallon’s mate?”
Questions came so quickly she didn’t know how to answer them. It took several seconds for her to realize she could understand what each of them was saying. She looked through the chattering females to Kallon.
He didn’t speak, but she knew he understood. He had to go, but he would be back as soon as possible. He didn’t want to leave her. She sensed it. He moved away slowly. “Orman, you will help Riza? She needs rest, and food.”
“I’m starving,” she agreed. She was sure she could swallow an entire pig.
“We can do that,” said a Blue. “We will help.”
“Yes,” said a Yellow. “Bring her to the Manor. We will have a feast!”
The group of females hurried off to leave her with Orman. They’d been the last of dragons in the arena. It suited her fine. She’d been uncomfortable with all the staring.
Orman planted his fists on his hips and looked up at her through the rain. “Are you going to regret this? You know there is no going back.”
“I don’t want to go back,” she said. “There is no life for me as who I was.”
“What if the dragons don’t accept you? What if Kallon becomes a leader of a Kind who won’t let you in?”
“Then I will be my own Kind, I guess.”
“And you are back to where you began, except in a body that you don’t recognize.”
“Orman, are you upset about this?” She settled onto her haunches and tilted her head at this man whom she thought was her friend.
He softened. “No. No, my dear. But when the heart makes wishes without consulting the head, sometimes…”
Riza smiled. “Don’t worry. I left behind a life that didn’t fit me. This is what I want. I think this is what I’ve always wanted.”
“Well, then, I won’t worry.” He returned her smile, though his eyes remained full of doubt. “Let’s eat. I could eat a whole pig myself.” He turned and led her across the sloshing arena grounds.
She was slow to coordinate all four legs, and concentrated on which two ought to touch the ground at the same time. After several clumsy steps, she realized it was easier if she didn’t concentrate, and just let her feet decide. When she looked up again, Orman was gone.
She heard something above the din of the raindrops hitting the ground. At first she thought she was mistaken. The sound was too faint and far away for her to have really heard. It sounded very much like someone crying. She turned to find it.
Several feet into the trees outside the arena, she came across a Brown, stretched across a mound of musty pine needles. The female’s face was wedged between her paws, and her great shoulders quaked. “What has happened?” asked Riza.
The Brown jerked upright. When her golden eyes found Riza, she glared. “You.”
It was the Brown who had stolen Riza from her bath and had given her over to the dragons. The Brown who had begun Riza’s nightmare in the cell. Acid churned in her belly and surprised her.
“You cannot hide your inferior self behind that crimson façade, human. The scent of your fear and weakness oozes through your scales.” The Brown snorted and laid her head against the ground.
“Harsh words for someone who has never wished you a moment’s pain.”
�
��Wish it or not, you have caused me nothing but.” The Brown grimaced and clenched her legs to her belly with a moan.
Riza surged forward. “What is wrong? Are you injured?”
“Get away from me!”
Riza paused. She crouched and found herself sniffing the Brown, which unnerved her, but revealed the Brown’s pain to her. She reached out to touch the Brown’s distended belly. “Let me help you.”
“I said get away from me! I do not want your help!” The Brown jerked forward and released a sharp cry. “Get out of here!”
“I will not leave you. You are injured. I smell blood.”
“I am not injured,” she moaned. “Please. I beg you to go.” This time, her eyes were dull and frightened. “I cannot hold back any longer, it only increases the pain.”
“Then do not hold back.” She grasped the Brown’s front paw.
“You must leave. Leave, like all the others.” She whimpered, her eyelids drooping. “Leave without saying goodbye, or leave while I beg you take me with you. It doesn’t matter which you choose. It all comes around to the same thing.”
“What does it come around to?” Riza asked quietly.
“I am still alone.”
“You are not alone now. I am right here.” Riza tightened her grip around the Brown’s paw.
“I hate you,” murmured the Brown. “I hated you as the human you were, and I hate you for the abomination you have become.” She convulsed and twisted to her side, claws digging into the back of Riza’s paw. Her eyes churned wild and afraid. “Help me!”
At the base of the Brown’s tail, a trail of dark blood seeped onto the ground. Then a rounded bubble of black swelled from her broken skin. The Brown cried out again.
“When I say, bear down hard.” Riza had birthed enough piglets, and her share of babies. She could do this. One paw went to the Brown’s tail as the other squeezed the Brown’s digits. “Now. Push!”
The Brown grunted. Riza pressed the skin around the black protrusion and it slid out and to the cold pine needles without a sound. An egg. An egg so black and sleek, it seemed made of polished coal.
“Let me see it,” said the Brown, lying still.
Riza cradled the smooth egg, carefully placing it in its mother’s forelegs. She then buried the spilled blood and rearranged the pine needles to cover it. “The two of you should get out of the rain.”
“I should crush it. I should leave it to shrivel.”
“Riza? Riza, child, are you out there?” Orman called from a distance.
The Brown grasped Riza’s paw. “Do not speak of me. Do not speak of any of this. No one, especially my father, can know of what has happened here.”
“You need to gather your strength and get out of the rain. I know of a cave where you can be safe.”
“Tell me you will not speak of me to anyone.”
Orman shouted again. “Riza! Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got yourself lost!”
“Tell me!” spat the Brown.
“I will not speak of this,” Riza said. She crawled back, and onto her feet. “What will you do?”
The Brown closed her eyes, cuddling the dark egg to her belly. “I do not know. Now go, and forget what you saw.”
“Riza!” Orman’s voice was so close, he might find them any moment.
Riza turned to meet him before he had the chance. “I’m here! I’m coming!” She glanced over her shoulder to the Brown, who seemed sleeping so soundly she barely breathed. Rain dropped hard to the earth, splattering mud to her snout and belly, and to the egg. Riza couldn’t stand to leave her.
“Go,” whispered the Brown. “I will be fine. Take the wizard far from here.”
Riza bolted toward the sound of Orman’s noisy steps. “I’m here,” she said, and forced a smile when she found him.
“What are you doing, traipsing about in the rain? You’ll catch your death.” Orman shook his head. “Seeing a Red come trudging through the trees when I call your name will be a sight to get used to.”
“I’m getting the hang of four feet already,” she said. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
“I’m not the one holding up the show!”
Riza nudged the old wizard with her snout and smiled. She sent a final, worried glance back through the trees toward the Brown, then drew in a breath and trudged on. “Orman?”
“Hm?” He was scowling at the mud caking around his ankles.
“What happened to Jastin? I didn’t see him when I woke up.”
Orman paused. “I don’t know, child. He was there at first, and saw you change. Don’t recall seeing him after that. It was a bit chaotic.” He stepped over a fat tree root and waved her on. “Perhaps the brute got away. Let’s go find out.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jastin Armitage crouched on the orange stone in the dank chamber, fists so tight his fingernails cut his palms. His teeth were sore from clenching.
The Red should have left her dead. She would have been better off as a memory than the freakish beast she had become. To Jastin, she would always be that stubborn, innocent girl who’d closed her eyes to the world forever. That stinking, massive thing belched from the earth was not Riza, and never would be. That thing was a monster, and Riza could never be a monster.
“You are puddling on my wistful crystal.” Layce Phelcher’s soft voice stirred Jastin from his heartache. “Are you going to tell me it’s raining in Leland Province?”
Jastin stood, his bones resisting. Rain made his joints creak, and cold rain made them downright crabby. He didn’t like to feel his age, but today, he felt older than ever. “It’s raining in Leland Province.” He stared flatly at Layce. “It’s raining buckets. Doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon.”
To his surprise, she smiled. “Venur Riddess won’t like that news.”
“I had nothing to do with it.”
Layce opened her palms. “Well, technically you did. We all have our parts to play in order to see the ending as it was meant to be.” She reached out and guided Jastin off the stone. “You did go back there with the dragon’s pouch. Terribly romantic, the way I see it, but your brother-in-law won’t think so.”
Jastin pulled his arm from her grasp. “Your job was to get me from here to there and back, not lecture me constantly in-between.”
“And your job was to start a war, not a thunderstorm.”
“A thunderstorm? In Leland Province?” A new voice rang into the empty room.
Jastin straightened his shoulders as he faced the looming man in the doorway. “I’m flattered your batty wizard thinks I can control the heavens and their rain,” said Jastin. “But I’m only a soldier, Vorham.”
“Yes. With unfortunate timing.” Vorham Riddess moved away into Layce’s bedroom and Jastin followed. Light from a torch chandelier bathed Vorham’s dark brown face and glittered his wiry black hair. Again Jastin saw the same, deep-set brown eyes of his beloved wife. But in Vorham’s broad face, those eyes seemed too small and confined. Vorham’s height, which was a full two inches taller than Jastin’s, only furthered the man’s menacing image. Most of Esra Province was afraid of Jastin’s brother-in-law. Not Jastin.
“Well?” Vorham pressed his palms together.
“Things were unsettled when I left. There were a few surprises.” Jastin slipped his drenched vest from his bare back and it dropped. Layce clucked and scooped the thing off her rug. “Blackclaw was in prison, and the Red was poised to take over.”
Vorham’s face burned red beneath his brown skin, turning it the color of a ripe beet. “So it’s true.”
“But it’s not the end of it.”
Vorham pressed toward Jastin. “Jastin. You’ve never failed me as a soldier. But.” His arm slithered over Jastin’s shoulders. “You were surprised, which surprises me. I don’t like it.”
“The Red is not a threat. He’ll be easy to take down.”
“It’s not the leader, my brother. Leaders come and go. Black, Red, strong, weak, human, drago
n.” He urged Jastin forward, speaking as he guided him into the hall. “What I’ve lost is the moment. I’ll never get that back.”
He paused. “My men are waiting for the call to battle. Dragons are supposed to be threatening Leland Province, which is supposed to be weak and starving, and desperate for my help.”
He pressed Jastin to the wall. His breath smelled of sour wine. “But Leland has been reprieved! There’s a new dragon leader! There’s no more drought! No war!”
Jastin stood firm against his brother-in-law’s rant, accustomed to it. Bored by it. Powerless men shout to affirm their manhood. Despite being the richest Venur in Esra Province, Vorham Riddess was a weakling, and always would be.
“The Red will fail,” said Jastin. “He’s feeble and sentimental. You haven’t lost your chance.” He yanked a swatch of purple silk from Vorham’s flamboyant tunic, and dried his face. “Rain or no rain, Leland suffers.”
Vorham narrowed his eyes. “Rain or no rain, you are slipping. If I can’t use you to help me get Leland and its mountains, I’ll do it without you.”
Jastin snarled. In an instant, he’d wrapped the soft silk around Vorham’s throat, squeezing. “Don’t insult me, Vorham. I lost more than you did today, and not because I’m slipping, but because you are. You couldn’t see past your own greed.”
The man clutched at the fabric, his tiny eyes popping.
“I’ve spent weeks hungry and filthy, doing the work you couldn’t do yourself. You sat back and waited for Leland to be delivered to you on a platter. It was your plan that failed. Not mine.”
Vorham wheezed.
“Say it,” said Jastin. “Your plan failed.”
Vorham opened his mouth, but he only rasped.
Jastin loosened the grip of the fabric, just a little. “Say it!”
“My plan failed,” Vorham managed to croak.
“You might rethink your decision to strangle Venur Riddess just now.” A lilting, familiar sort of voice came over the sound of scraping claws as heavy feet drew near. Jastin turned his head to find the glittering face of Fane Whitetail. The White offered a chilling smile.
Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) Page 26
