“Not really. You have pretty much everything, and I’m ninth in line to my throne, so I honestly can’t see how this benefits you at all.”
If Ardemar found her line of questioning odd, he didn’t say. “This is true. Still, it intrigued me how you so blatantly refused my courtship. I’ve had many seek my hand, and none rebuff it.”
“Oh. You’re one of those obsessive types.” Gissandra bit her lower lip.
Ignoring this, Ardemar continued. “However, you are a princess of a high ranking kingdom. The reward for your rescue is five hundred thousand coins, because your dragon has defeated twenty-six knights.”
“Twenty-six?” Gissandra placed her hands on her hips. “Have none of the knights been telling you I’ve been sending them away because I don’t want to be rescued?”
Ardemar chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. “Some have, though people do not believe a princess would do that. So she must be charmed by powerful magic. You will not persuade me like you have done them. Come. I know your dragon is not here.”
This was bad. Really bad.
“Maybe you should wait until my dragon gets back, so I can be won in a fair fight?”
“Nice try.” Ardemar advanced. “But since you have a reputation for defying rules and customs, I will do the same.” Gissandra decided to resort to the good old fashioned scream, even as his hand clamped over her mouth. The scream alerted the snoozing dragon, as well as two others who were staying in their caves – Harkrul and Balon. Harkrul emerged out of his cave, which had huge steel doors with an inscription written in a different language. Balon dashed out, uncharacteristically fast for someone who hated Giss.
“Wretched girl…” Ardemar shook his head, before slamming his visor shut, unleashing Gissandra’s hand. “Better run then, before you get burned.”
“You would take a princess without battle?” Harkrul growled, his huge form towering above all else. Smoke curled out of his nostrils. He glared at Ardemar in accusation.
“It is Kiraz’s fault for not being there,” Balon hissed, obviously still sore from his last princess being stolen, red eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can take over possession of the princess instead… and show these filthy humans what it means to threaten a dragon.”
“Okay.” Giss wasn’t sure what to expect when she had screamed for help, but three dragons attempting to rescue her from a prince had to be up there in her column of what the hell is happening.
“Under the rules, that is possible, if Kiraz is proven to be irresponsible.” Harkrul nodded, eyeing Gissandra, who lay sprawled in front of Kiraz’s cave. Balon snapped his teeth in triumph of the statement.
Oh shit. I get taken by Ardemar or become Balon’s princess? Since when did I become everyone’s favorite tug-of-war toy?
“I would prefer to take this princess without any unnecessary deaths,” Ardemar said coolly. “But three on one is rather unfair odds…” He flicked a speck of dirt from his sword. “For you.”
“Insolent slime!” Balon, having conveniently forgotten his enmity with Kiraz and Giss, charged forward. The green dragon, Sastran, spewed out a massive gout of fire, engulfing Count Ardemar in intense flames.
Giss felt sick to her stomach. Whatever she thought of Ardemar, she didn’t think his death at the hands of the dragons would go down well. He had travelled for possibly weeks to reach here, defying whatever conventions people expected of him, just to die like a common villain, instead of going through with his nefarious and dastardly plans.
Ardemar stepped out of the flames, unburnt. He dodged one swipe of Balon’s claws and slashed upwards, blade sinking through the dragon scales like water.
Balon screeched agony, red gushing out of his arm. Sastran inhaled, ready to spit more fire – but Ardemar, with almost inhuman speed, took out and flung a dagger towards the green dragon. The dagger was tiny, hardly enough to inflict any kind of damage – but Gissandra saw the glint of onyx on it, just before it embedded itself between Sastran’s eyes, trapped by the scales.
Sastran tossed his head as if trying to shake off a fly, apparently unaffected. Quickly, a pattern of black veins inked out from where the dagger had landed, spreading over the dragon’s scales, dulling them where it touched.
With a gasping breath, Sastran fell to the ground, thrashed and writhed, tail thumping the ground – and fell still.
Where the hell did he get something like that?
Ardemar avoided a swipe from Harkul, and a blast of flame from Balon.
“Dragon slayer!” Harkrul roared, his voice reverberating around the peak. He gave a bellowing call, like the one Balon used to summon other dragons.
None however, came. Gissandra, originally thinking Ardemar didn’t stand a chance, now realized it was the other way around. She wanted to dash inside for her sword, though dreaded the idea of Kiraz returning if she did, and wasn’t there to stop him from taking the Black Rose prince on. Since, apparently, the Black Rose prince had weapons infused with something that meant bad news for the dragons it came into contact with. Even now, Sastran’s corpse crumbled further, scales shedding off to reveal emaciated muscles wrapped around bone.
Count Ardemar fought in silence, no taunts or breath wasted. Underneath the visor, those black eyes focused on the dragons. Fear glimmered in Balon’s red eyes. Harkrul tried to use his immense body mass to overwhelm the prince, lashing out with his tail, stomping down on the prince. Balon streamed out red-hot fire, immolating Ardemar. His blood splattered the ashen ground beneath him.
Gissandra didn’t understand why all four of them fought so hard. She just didn’t.
Perhaps she should have just gone with the prince, and avoided this. All the others had been meek, and eventually accepting. She expected more knights and princes made of that same material, people so wrapped up and baffled by anything abnormal that she could get away with this existence. She already knew Ardemar’s reputation.
Now however, the Black Rose prince came breaking down her door, shaking up all notions of peace and prosperity. Reminding her that this was a world where there were monsters and humans, and that sometimes it was hard to tell which was which.
Harkrul, that mighty golden dragon, the largest of all of the ones Gissandra had ever seen, leant down to bite the prince, who resisted the flames. Calmly, Ardemar reached for another one of those cursed black daggers, and thrust it into Harkrul’s mouth, even as the dragon’s jaws closed around him. The prince’s muscles quivered as he strained against the jaws before they could fully snap shut and impale him. Harkrul thrashed his head wildly, trying to shut his mouth, and Ardemar resisted. His strength faltered for a moment, and the tip of one fang pierced his shoulder, through the armor.
With a sighing groan, Harkrul then sank to the floor, legs no longer able to support him. His golden scales rapidly blackened. Eyes jerking to the back of his head, Harkrul expired, and Ardemar rolled out of the corrupted mouth.
He stood, facing Balon. The blue dragon seemed to remember a pressing engagement elsewhere, for he quickly slithered back into his cave with a frightened screech, the stone entrance sealing shut – before the prince could kill him.
“Well, that’s nice.” Gissandra stared up to the sky, heart dropping as she saw an orange fleck descending. Harkrul’s body dissolved like Sastran’s, shrinking into the bones, which then flaked off like dust.
Ardemar followed her gaze and expression, and snapped open his visor. “Unfortunate that your dragon returns at this time.”
“Why don’t you just take the throne of Avelon?” Gissandra asked. She wanted to say something, anything to distract the prince. “You would make a brilliant tyrant. Why come here for a random princess who doesn’t want to be taken?”
“Tyrants and villains are always defeated, in the end,” Ardemar said softly. He took out another one of the black daggers. “My Fairy Godmother said that I was destined to become a monster, to make kingdoms fall.”
“At least she didn’t suggest that you be called Gissandra
,” Giss muttered. She clicked her fingers. “Called it with the fairy curse, though.”
Kiraz, spotting the disappearing corpses of Harkrul and Sastran in the air, let out a howl of shock and fury. He landed on the stone, buffeting wind over Ardemar and Gissandra. Immediately, Gissandra stepped between Kiraz and Ardemar.
“Kiraz! Please don’t fight him. He has anti-dragon weapons. Heavens know where he got them. You can’t beat him. Just let me go.”
Kiraz examined Gissandra, standing in front, holding her arms up in desperation – and the corpses. Then, with a snarl, he shrunk into human form. A small ball of white fluff fluttered away from him as he did so.
“Then perhaps if I face him as a human, results may vary.”
Ardemar stared at Kiraz in sudden interest, the lazy expression in his eyes gone. “You can shapeshift? That’s new.” He clutched his dagger in one hand, sword in the other. Ignoring Gissandra, he prowled around her to face Kiraz, observing his red hair, set face and stocky limbs. She wished at that moment she had her sword and dagger strapped on, instead of them lying in her bed chambers.
“Some can.”
Kiraz examined Gissandra’s expression again, and the two corpses. He saw how horrified and frantic she looked. Growling, he sneered at Ardemar. “Tell me, human. Is there nothing that can be done to stop you? You have defeated two mighty dragons this day. By all rights, you can access the wealth and treasures they held. I’m sure those will be far more valuable than a princess.”
Ardemar hesitated. “And what would stop me from just slaughtering you all and taking everything, instead of cheap compromise?”
Kiraz moved one pace closer. “The possibility that the next fight may be your last. The possibility that if you wipe out the dragons here, you will incite vengeance from our kingdom, as you have slain a dragon lord.” Kiraz indicated Harkrul’s fallen body. “In short, the fate that awaits anyone who chooses the path of a villain.”
Harkrul was a dragon lord? Gissandra paused. How easily that lord had fallen, to a dark prince. With a stab of unease, she wondered if Ardemar was destined for a truly evil path. Not a prince would conquer a kingdom, but one capable of far worse.
Or, whether he was just seriously acting out because of his privilege. To think that he sent me letters!
The Black Rose prince pointed his sword imperiously at Kiraz. “Tell me then, dragon. What is normal protocol for your kind if a lord has fallen?”
Kiraz folded his arms. “The wealth of the lord goes to the one who defeated them. They also have the option to become a dragon lord themselves.”
“Hmm.” Ardemar tapped the end of his sword on the ground. “How does a human become a dragon lord? And what does it mean if they are one?”
Kiraz licked his lips, reluctant to tell the human. “It means… dragons that are in the former lord’s jurisdiction become yours to command. That would be close to several hundred dragons. As for becoming a dragon lord, you must prove that you are a dragon. Obviously that is tricky for a human.”
“Is it?” Ardemar pointed at Kiraz. “Because you seem to have shapeshifted just fine.”
That’s true. If a dragon can turn into a human, what’s to say humans can’t do the same back? Sweat beaded on Gissandra’s head. The implications of Count Ardemar adding dragon lord to his titles, and gaining dragons as allies… it didn’t bear thinking about.
“You don’t seriously plan to take over the kingdoms with an army of dragons, do you?”
Ardemar, at first surprised Gissandra had spoken, waved a dismissive hand at her. “Oh. Nothing of the sort. I have much grander plans than your small time dalliances.”
“You want to tell us these plans?”
“No.” Ardemar lunged at Kiraz, slashing his blade. The dragon leapt backwards, though the tip of the blade sliced through his tunic, leaving a bloody chest scratch. Kiraz at first attempted to fight back, fist smashing into the prince’s armor, bringing a knee up to slam uselessly against the metal. Despite Kiraz’s strength, he could do nothing against the armor and weapon, and had to curve out of the way of a fatal stab.
“Kiraz! Run! He’s too strong!”
The dragon hissed at the idea of an enemy stronger than himself, but obeyed. Gissandra fled to their cave, Kiraz in tow. A black dagger whizzed past where Kiraz hesitated for a split moment, thudding into the cave wall and dropping to the floor. They scampered past a startled Brendag, who was just coming out of one of the passageways, woven into the cave.
“What in the thousand kingdoms is going on?”
“Prince! Evil! Killed dragons! Here!” Gissandra blurted as they dashed past the kitchen.
Brendag saw the Black Rose prince fully encased in armor, barreling through, sword raised, and paled. “Oh my stars!”
“Do we actually have anywhere to go to?” Giss panted.
“The treasury, we can bar ourselves in there.”
“With that kind of password? You have got to be kidding me, Kiraz!” Gissandra yelled. She saw the dragon clutching his chest, and winced in fear and sympathy as blood pooled in his hand, dripped down his pants.
“Through the servant tunnels, then, dearies!” Brendag shuffled hurriedly back to the tunnels she had come out of. “Don’t mind the cobwebs!”
Without protest, Gissandra, panting hard, Kiraz cringing behind her in pain, joined Brendag in the tunnels, but not before she had hastily scooped up the lucky rabbit’s foot, lying on the kitchen counter, stuffing it into her bodice.
Gissandra had not used the tunnels as of yet. All she knew, from Brendag’s descriptions was that catacombs of narrow tunnels existed in the mountains, not yet hollowed out to dragon size. Brendag lived in a small hovel somewhere along them. Giss didn’t want to bump into any of the other dragon’s living spaces, especially as she knew Balon lived next cave along.
And I killed two of them just by screaming for help. She gritted her teeth, following Brendag into the darkness. The troll held aloft a lantern, illuminating the network of catacombs beyond them. “Everything’s a dead end, or connected to another cave, but maybe we can give him the slip, eh?”
“Where is Balon?” Kiraz gasped, as they squeezed through the gaps as fast as they could. The prince could be heard clattering behind them, following the light of Brendag’s lantern. Adrenaline coursed through Gissandra. She held tight onto Kiraz’s hand, helping pull him forward. “Is he dead?”
“No. He ran into his cave like a coward when the prince killed Sastan and Harkrul.”
“At least he’s alive,” Kiraz growled. “We’re passing his cave network now…”
Sure enough, they emerged out into a luscious room, with hanging blue drapes over most of the walls. Several pink sofas adorned random parts of the cavern space, and tiny glass bowls were placed side by side, filled with white liquid. On the other side lay another narrow, ominous looking tunnel. Around four cats bolted at the sight of the trio stumbling into the room.
Balon, curled around a cauldron, who had about five cats bouncing on his neck, turned to gape at them in horror.
“You!”
“I forgot to mention that Balon has recently taken to hoarding cats instead, to replace his lost princess,” Brendag added. “On top of his normal five. I thought it was cute, so I didn’t say anything.”
At this point, Ardemar popped out of the tunnels in hot pursuit, halting at the strange sight that stretched before him.
At the appearance of the Black Rose prince, Balon screeched in terror, and, with the cats clinging onto his neck, stampeded out of the room, tail knocking aside a cauldron of dark purple liquid. The liquid sloshed over parts of furniture, and began spreading across the floor.
With a sigh of disgust, Ardemar side-stepped and threw a dagger at Brendag, who had been heading for the narrow gap with Kiraz and Gissandra. Brendag collapsed by the tunnel without a sound.
Gissandra didn’t see where the dagger had hit, but whimpered at the sight of the fallen troll. She and Kiraz immediately changed direct
ion – without Brendag, they would be going through the tunnels blind. The only option left was to follow Balon.
“You should really stop running,” Ardemar said. “It’s only delaying the inevitable. You can of course, give me the princess. But I’ll kill you anyway.”
“Yeah, I’ll just do that, then!” Kiraz dashed after Gissandra, who leapt over where the purple liquid crept. Kiraz did the same. The prince appeared to be out of daggers, so he instead chased after them, gaining ground as he splashed through the liquid. A dozen or so cats scattered out of the way, including ones trembling under the sofas.
Balon, in the next room bunched up in the corner, spat at them in fury. “No! Leave me alone!” Flames stuttered out of his mouth, before unleashing in a fiery stream. Gissandra dived to the side, hitting her hip bone hard and crying out. Kiraz took it without flinching – as did the prince approaching from behind.
“Go away! No! Leave us alone!” Balon trembled like the cats around him, panic erasing all sense of reason.
The only other way was back out through the living room, to where other caverns stretched beyond.
“I seriously thought you would have run outside, not to a dead end!” Gissandra spluttered, as she rolled and scrambled to stand up.
“Go away!” Balon screeched again, billowing more fire.
“Are dragons always this cowardly?” Ardemar walked into the flames, towards Kiraz. “You were interesting. I will enjoy harvesting the powers from your dead body.” He held up an object in his palm, hard to see through the inferno. Gissandra, back against cold stone, despaired.
Balon stopped breathing fire, coughing violently. Kiraz attempted to punch the prince, but his knuckles connected with good-fashioned steel. He rapidly shifted into a dragon, expanding in the space, which threw the prince off balance as he was shoved by the increase in body mass – but with one quick step, the prince stabbed Kiraz in his soft underbelly flesh, causing Kiraz to howl in pain. The prince twisted the blade, and Kiraz shifted again, pulling himself out of reach, but now displaying a wound in his guts. A fleck of white puffed behind him. Fear crystallized Gissandra’s veins. Recovering, she frantically scrabbled for something – and, finding nothing, resorted to one last desperate move, her heart stammering.
Romance: The Campus Player: A College Romance Page 91
