She walked through the trees, and soon enough, she came to the same lake where she had been attacked the night before. It surprised her to see that it was not tainted for her, that she didn't look at the water and the beach with fear. Instead it was a peaceful scene, a place that felt as natural to her and as perfect for her as her own skin.
With smooth motions, as if she were quite alone, she skimmed her camisole over her head and stretched her arms toward the full moan, bathing in the moonlight. It occurred to her that Morgan's eyes were on her somewhere in the darkness, and a sly smile crossed her face. Her hands dropped down to rub her small breasts as if they simply ached, and the shiver of pleasure gave her more courage still. It occurred to her that the other judges were watching as well, and that thought only made her smile more.
With a casual motion, she untied the skirt from her hips, allowing it to drop to the sand as she stepped out of it delicately. There was nothing on underneath, and she stretched first one leg in front of her and then the next. The thought that there could be a murderer hiding and watching her as well troubled her briefly, but she shook it off.
Yvonne was of the line of Odile, some of the most beautiful swans in the world, and there was nothing finer than to bear swan blood at a lake on a gorgeous summer night. She looked up at the moon, which her fore-mothers had worshiped ages ago, and she thought she felt some of their strength and courage.
She stretched out her arms, and she felt the prickle of pure white feathers growing from them. Her body twisted and shrank, but oh, best of all were her wings. They were powerful and strong; they could carry her for miles before they tired and they would allow her to beat a normal man into unconsciousness if she so wished.
Yvonne realized that her safety didn't just depend on the predators who lurked around her. She was not defenseless either, and with a few powerful flaps of her wings, she launched herself into the air. For a few minutes, she simply took joy in the beauty of her own flight and the sensation of the wind rustling through her feathers. It was something she could never have had as a human, something that was denied even to people as powerful as Morgan, Kiya and Carson. They would never know the pleasure that she did, the freedom enjoyed by her, her sisters and Benedict, who soared somewhere over her.
She came to herself and remembered that her flight had a purpose. With slow, purposeful strokes, she circled the lake three times, calling softly as if only to hear her own voice. If she were a real swan, she would have been calling for her flock. However, when there was no answer, any predator would have known she was alone, perhaps wounded, perhaps frightened.
They thought it was a recluse named Brandt Noman who had targeted her and other victims. He was a powerful man, and he was known to be a shapechanger, but there was a great mystery about what he turned in to. He had been a menace to the shapechanger community of Harrispont for more than a generation, and Carson had spoken of Noman tangling with his father, Lachlan Keynes, who had been judge before him.
Now it seemed he had gone mad, gone rogue, and started killing those of his own kind, though to what end, no one could guess.
Her thoughts dark, Yvonne alighted on the water. She would not have been surprised to have been dragged into the depths by an unseen hand, like a horror movie, but there was nothing to show that the night was unlike any other she had spent on this same lake. The moon showed a bright and beautiful face, and all around, she could hear the sounds of birds and the other animals of the night. She could almost forget what she was there for, she almost allowed herself to fall into a trance of peace, but above, she heard the call of a hunting eagle.
Thank you, Benedict. The practical eagle would always be ready to drag those around him down to earth, and she paddled in the water, staying close to the shore where she could.
The problem was that when she was in swan shape for an extended length of time, her thoughts simplified. She was still herself, she knew how vital her mission was, but her beast body only understood immediate danger and immediate peace. There was a gentle breeze playing over the water, the lake was crisp and clean, and her body did not hurt. Obviously all was well, and if she hadn't known herself so well and understood this about herself, she would even have dozed.
It occurred to her that that might not be a bad idea, and she shook her narrow head on its long elegant neck, looking as if she was fussing for a comfortable position. Swans would sometimes doze on the water, though it was rare, but a beautiful summer night with nothing harmful around would have been perfect for it. It occurred to her with a shudder that she had done so often enough in the past, and the fear of actually dozing off fled in light of her immediate worry.
It had been more than an hour, however, and she knew that though her watchers would not falter or leave, she needed something to happen.
Almost by accident, she allowed herself to drift over to the deeper water, where the moonlight did not penetrate the black depths, and she fluttered her wings, sending ripples through the water. She looked like she was playing, but she was achingly aware of her own vulnerability. She knew that there were eyes on her, but suddenly she was sure that it was not merely the eyes of those who wanted to protect her.
If she was a human, the hair at the back of her neck would have stood up straight. Since she was a swan, it instead manifested as a fluttering her feathers and a lonely cry that meant she was looking for her flocks. It reminded her of the fact that there were predators who hunted by fear as much as they hunted by sound or by scent. If the thing who had killed those other poor shapechangers was watching, she knew keenly how much it would love her fear, and she fought it down hard.
She paddled in circles toward deeper and deeper water, and a deep core of unease underlined her emotions now. There was something very strange and very wrong, and she felt her nerves strain close to breaking. She took a deep breath, ignoring her instincts, but then she wondered if that was what she should have been doing.
She was behaving like a swan who was nervous, not one that was afraid, and it came to her bright as a lightning bolt that the thing might be looking for fear that night. Yvonne allowed herself to drift closer to the shallows, and now she knew there was something in the water with her. It had been shadowing her for some time, but now when it looked like she might make a move for safety, it wanted to end this stalking game.
She kept herself from swimming as fast as she could for the shore, and then she thought that perhaps Noman was something that could not stand to be deprived of his prey.
Instead of progressing straight to the shore, she reared up in the water, opening her wings as if she was planning to take flight.
It was the only thing that saved her. As she did so, she could feel the water below her change, turn to something violent from its former placid waves. There was something big underneath her, and it was coming up fast.
Desperately, she pumped her wings to gain the air, not even daring to look behind her. Whatever was after her was big, and now that she knew what it was, she knew that it was even larger than Morgan. It was powerful, and now she could sense in the air, it was angry and hungry.
Behind her snapped jaws that were surely too large to belong on any beast that she knew, and there was an enormous snap as it closed on the space that she had been in just a few moments ago. The force of its lunge forced her askew, sending her tumbling across the water rather than straight up in the air as she had intended.
When she was blown to one side, Yvonne could see her attacker, and now she stared because she did not believe what her eyes were telling her. She knew wolves, coyotes, rabbits, bears and foxes, and now she even knew a tiger, but she had never even heard of someone taking on the form of a dragon before.
It was perhaps half again as large as Morgan's form, with a scaly reptilian face that was twisted with hate. There was something terribly out of place and unfinished about it, as if it were a wrong thing that should never have existed. There were crooked useless wings flapping from its back, and Yvonne realized with
desperation that it could never have flown. There was no way it could follow her into the air, but now it stopped her from doing so, lunging at her and preventing her from taking off.
Its breath was hot, stirring her feathers with a blistering wind, and she remembered what she had told the judges. The night of her attack, she had smelled water and steam, and here was her proof.
Those powerful jaws lunged at her again, and again, she skittered away from them, frantic to stay away from the monster's grasp. The dragon was braced to lunge at her again, but then with a savage cry, Benedict dropped like a bullet from the sky, his entire powerful body aimed like a bullet at the dragon's head.
Yvonne desperately launched herself into the air, as Benedict's wicked hooked beak and sharp talons raked at the thing’s face. She wondered why he didn't use his powers over the wind to belabor the thing as well, but with a sinking feeling she realized it was because she was there. He couldn't bring the power of the winds down without risking harming her, and she tried to get into the air.
It was too late, however, and with a roar, the dragon swatted Benedict hard enough to send him skittering toward the shore. The force was hard enough to at least stun the judge if not knock him unconscious outright, but instead of pursuing the judge to finish the job, the beast turned its head to her.
It lunged for her again, and there was nothing for Yvonne to do but fall back again and again. She could not get far enough away to gain the air. She had to make it to the shore, where the other judges would be able to reach her.
Please, please, please. I don't want to die like this. I want to live, I want to see Morgan, I want....
With a roar that blotted out all other sound, there was a tremendous splash in the water as Morgan appeared from the forest and launched himself toward the fight. With almost supernatural quickness, he thrust himself between Yvonne and Noman, meeting the rush head-on. Stunned by the attack, the dragon turned briefly, but it was already enraged. It struck at Morgan with one wickedly taloned forelimb, and to Yvonne's dismay, she saw that Morgan wasn't even trying to dodge.
The weretiger was fast, but he knew that he could not fight the dragon for an extended period of time in the water. It was a lost cause unless he could finish his enemy swiftly. Disregarding the thing's strength and the sharpness of its claws and its teeth, Morgan lunged for it over and over again, looking for that single strike that would allow him to rip out his enemy's throat.
Yvonne watched, her heart beating like a drum as Morgan missed over and over again. She frantically wondered where the other two judges were, and how long Morgan could hold out. She dared not take her eyes from the fight, and she threw herself up in the air to see more clearly what was happening in the water.
Her desperate eyes saw the kind of brute cunning in the dragon's movements. She saw it slow its hand deliberately, and before she could warn Morgan, Morgan took the bait. The weretiger lunged when the dragon was ready and willing to twist away, and for a split second, that left him vulnerable, the entire side of his neck exposed.
With a triumphant roar, the dragon slashed at Morgan's throat, and now, more sharply than ever, Yvonne could smell blood on the night's air. She screamed, but neither fighter stopped to pay attention to her. Instead, they only struck at each over and over again. In her delirium, Yvonne thought that they must both die, that the earth would open up and swallow both of them straight down.
In one frozen instant, she saw the dragon bat Morgan to the ground, and when that fanged maw drew back for a killing stroke, she couldn't have stopped herself from acting if she had tried.
With a bugling shriek, she threw herself at the dragon's face, her strong wings batting at its head. She had a moment of deja vu as she remembered the first time she had done this, but this time, the dragon she fought was already enraged beyond words. Instead of being driven off, it turned to her and left Morgan entirely.
Yvonne felt a fierce stab of pride as the dragon's steaming breath hissed and rustled her feathers, and she fell back, pulling him away from her lover. She had only managed to drag it back by a pace or two, however, when it lunged for her, catching her as quickly as a cat would a baby mouse. Inside of a single heartbeat, Yvonne found herself stretched out on her back. For a dizzying moment, she could see the black starry sky above, and it made her think of the first night she had met Morgan.
The dragon's heavy foot came down carelessly and brutally on her wing, and she screamed again.
Then that fanged mouth was coming down toward her, and mercifully, everything went black.
***
“I swear to every god and crawling thing, old fool, if she dies, you won't be far behind...”
“Curse it to high heaven, get this man off of me! This is delicate work!”
“Friend Morgan, you are doing no good and some ill. Step back and let the man work.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that, Kiya? How the hell should I stand down when...”
“By doing just that. It's out of your hands now.”
The voices threaded through the blackness like golden ribbons, but surely they were dreams. Yvonne could not imagine Morgan's voice raised to that fever pitch of negation.
She couldn't imagine him crying that way.
***
Blearily, her eyes opened, and she saw a timbered roof and sunset light streaming through the window. Her mouth was dry and musty, and when she turned her head, she could see Morgan sitting next to her, his face in profile. There was something grief-stricken in his face, and her heart hurt to see it.
She tried to reach for him, but for some reason she couldn't. It startled her that he didn't turn when she moved. He had amazingly sharp senses, but now he sat there as if he could neither see nor hear her.
All of this effort and even all of this thought was making her so tired. Perhaps she would go back to sleep. It would all make sense in the morning.
***
“Come on, Durrant, you need to come away. You can't take all of your meals here. You've not seen the daylight in—”
“Carson, you've played me fair, and I like to think I did you a favor by coming north. That's why you're getting this warning rather than a bite to the face.”
“There's nothing you can do.”
“Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't know it's my goddamn fault that she's like this?”
“I just know that you're killing yourself with worry. For the love of everything good, man, come away.”
***
Dark again, and all she could hear was the word please.
Someone was whispering it over and over again, and to her ears, it sounded like a rushing brook or the wind blowing though river reeds.
Please, please, please, please.
***
When Yvonne opened her eyes, everything hurt. She stared at the ceiling blankly as she took into account all of the aches and bruises that seemed to cover her frame. For a moment, she had no idea why she should be so sore, and then her memories came back in a liquid rush.
The night by the lake, the dragon that lunged at Morgan, her own frenzied attack...
She remembered the beast's foot crushing her wing, and frantic, she tried to raise her arm so she could see that it was still there. The fact that she couldn't move it made her cry out, and suddenly the room was flooded with light.
“Yvonne? Oh, Yvonne, darling...”
That voice, that familiar and beloved voice, and now Yvonne could tell who had been saying please over and over again at her bedside.
She turned her head, seeing Morgan more important than looking at her arm, and she gasped at the sight of him.
He looked haggard, and his dark hair was a bird's nest. His eyes were glowing with fear and love and apprehension, and when he knelt by the bed, he leaned his head against hers.
“Oh my love,” she whispered, and his shoulders heaved in a heavy sob.
“They said you might not awaken,” he said hoarsely. “They said...”
&nbs
p; She shushed him, because her shadowy memories were enough. There had been instances where she had felt tethered to her body by only gossamer strands, but there was one voice that kept calling her back.
“I'm here,” she said, her voice hoarse from disuse, and she allowed him to merely be by her side for a moment.
Soon enough he straightened up, and though his eyes were bright with tears, there was a ghost of a smile there, too.
“As soon as you are up to it,” he informed her, “I am going to bend you over my knee and spank you till you can't sit down. What the hell did you think you were doing, flying at Noman like that?”
“I think I was saving your hide,” she retorted. “Not that I regret it, but now you need to tell me what the hell happened.”
She could see that her left arm was in a cast, and that it was roped to the bed she lay on. That was the constriction she had felt earlier that had made her panic so.
Morgan nodded, dragging a chair up to sit by her side. “Noman did a lot of damage,” he said, a faint quiver in his voice the only indication of his state of mind. “He cracked your ribs, and when you hit the ground, you got a nasty knock to the head. The wing was actually the worst of it. He crushed it, and it was only because we got healers to the scene right away that we could get you back into your human form and treated.”
“I don't remember getting knocked in the head that badly,” Yvonne mused.
“That was some of the magic that was used to heal you,” he said soberly. “Your arm... your wing was bad, darling. They needed to keep you under to do the preliminary healing, but after that, it was up to you whether you woke up. They say it's always a risk, but you just... slept and slept...”
Tales of the Golden Judge: 3-Book Bundle - Books 4-6 Page 6
