Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  But maybe there was a chance. Head still to the ground, I eased open the fingers of my tightly balled fist, forced my tired legs to relax. Every nerve fiber tingled. Ready to spring.

  “Now,” he said. “Your decoy is an exotic little treat. A true beauty compared to you. You will watch me to do her what I will do to you. Come.”

  His feet treaded past me.

  He was making it easy! I leaped forward towards his chair.

  “Foolish girl,” he said. The collar around my neck wrenched me to a stop. He gave it a tug and I stumbled backward onto the floor. “Apparently you aren’t so compliant after all. Captain Zhu, go to the dungeons and cut out the foreigner’s right eye.”

  No! What had I done? Tearing at the collar, I scuttled back from him, toward the lute. The soldier marched toward the doors.

  An explosion rumbled from somewhere not far in the distance, rattling the walls.

  Lord Tong yanked the leash again, forcing me to my feet and nearly twisting my fingers. With another jerk, I staggered toward him.

  A second blast swelled out from near the front of the main keep, underground. The floors quavered and rocked. Lord Tong slipped, and I bowled into him. We tumbled to the floor, with me landing on top of him. Rafters cracked and splintered above.

  Ears ringing, I set a hand down to the floor to push myself back up, but found his dagger instead. Pulling it from its sheath, I cut the hand that held the leash. He grunted and let go, and I snatched up the frayed end and backed up. The soldiers closed in around me. I spun and ran the last four steps to the chair. My hands wrapped around the Dragon Scale Lute, which, like before, seemed to throb with heat. I placed my fingers over its strings. Perhaps I could coax the last of its magic out.

  Lord Tong lumbered to his feet. “Go ahead. It is a useless piece of junk. I regret wasting the resources to bring it here. If you even try it, I’ll have your foreigner tortured before your eyes.”

  My hand froze. What if it didn’t work? Hardeep would suffer even more. No, Lord Tong couldn’t be trusted to keep his word. I strummed out a few notes. Just as when he’d plucked it earlier, only a barely audible sound came out.

  He shrugged. “I told you so. Now I will have to deliver on my promise. Guards, go stop Captain Zhu, so my bitch can watch her lover lose an eye. Then his fingers, one by one. Then his skin. I’ll have the tanners turn his brown flesh into a suit of armor for her.”

  My stomach roiled. My failure was complete, and Hardeep would die an agonizing death because of it. To think I’d resented my fate as a political tool; now I was a rebel’s pet, his means for gaining power. This was the most dismal moment of my life.

  My eyes strayed to the dagger, blurry through my tears, which I’d left in the chair. One last choice. Die here, and Lord Tong would have no reason to harm Hardeep. He’d lose his tool for gaining the throne. All it would take is a stab to the—

  Let your heart impel your voice. The words of the book sounded suspiciously like Hardeep’s voice in my head.

  Of course, Lord Tong had plucked the string while gloating. When I’d used the Dragon Scale Lute before, it had been under times of duress or fear. Guilt-ridden for strong-arming Minister Song’s son. Scared of assassins. Worried about trespassing in the Temple of Heaven.

  And now, resolved to end my life. His attention on the knife, Lord Tong took a step toward me.

  I thrummed out a chord. The bass strings keened like a beast led to slaughter. The treble notes wailed like a mother mourning her dead baby.

  Lord Tong’s next step faltered. The fingers of his hand, outreached to do something horrible to me, slackened. Then, his rounded eyes squinted. Maybe it wouldn’t work. He didn’t care for music.

  Unlike me, who had received a lesson from the mysterious Lord Xu. It is not the strength of the pluck that matters, but the intensity of your emotion, the elf had said. Only the power of your intent can compel the sound beyond its physical limitations.

  Gripping the floor with my toes, straightening my spine, I grasped my sense of hopelessness and despair and plucked out the few bars Hardeep had taught me. Beneath my fingers, the lute emitted a chorus of screams, like horrified children fleeing Avarax’s fiery breath.

  Lord Tong stilled, his lips quivering. His breath rasped through his thick nose.

  My next chords moaned like a man trapped beneath a collapsed building as Avarax descended. Stuck, unable to flee. Only able to watch.

  Covering his ears, Lord Tong stumbled. His quavering men backed away. Then, they clawed at one another to reach the entrance first. I continued the song, with the change in pitch now moaning like souls rising from their graves on Ghost Day.

  The power of the world coalesced through me, and again, my belly felt like hundreds of thousands of worms writhing over each other. My energy flagged. The room spun around me, fading at the edges and closing into blackness.

  Twenty-Five

  Sunset over Wailian

  Punctuated by sharp twangs and a loud crack, timbers splintered and walls groaned in a song just as doleful as the one I had played on the lute. My body rocked to its rhythm.

  No, someone was shaking me.

  “Wake up!” The voice filled me.

  Energy trickled into my limbs. My eyes fluttered open. Blue irises encroached on my visual field, for the third time in as many days. Hardeep’s soot-covered expression melted from concern to relief.

  I bolted up into a sitting position. “Where are we?”

  “Thank Surya.” Hardeep smiled at me. His cape was gone, and his armor was singed. “We have to get out of here. The castle is burning.”

  No wonder it was so hot. With his help, I scrambled to my feet. “What about the Dragon Scale Lute?”

  “Ruined.” He pointed at the smashed resonator. The strings sprawled unwound in a tangled mess. Even the scale soundboard lay shattered from the center out, looking much like a spider web, though a few pieces were missing. “Ruined beyond repair.”

  I cast a last glance at the cinnabar-red scale, the instrument of a rebellion’s undoing. “We should take what’s left of the scale.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Leave it buried beneath the rubble. Now come.”

  I searched his eyes. Perhaps he was right. Better to leave it here, forgotten, lest it fall into the hands of someone with less-than-noble motives. I took the hand he extended.

  Limping along, he guided me through the smoke-filled halls. The soot in my lungs forced out ragged coughs. Flames leaped from side passages. Burning beams crashed in our path. Each time, Hardeep with his Paladin skills pulled me out of harm’s way. Still, my energy wavered.

  “Up ahead!” He pointed to where the castle’s entire outer wall had collapsed.

  Behind us, more columns and beams cracked and fell. We didn’t have much time.

  Eyes dry and aching, throat singed, my energy guttered. I could never pick my way through this rubble. My vision faded, and my wobbling knees gave out. I would just hold him back. “Go…on. Save yourself.”

  He swept me up into his arms and staggered through the debris. How comforting it felt to be held, protected. I closed my eyes. If I died today, at least it would be in his embrace.

  First, he needed to hear my song. The one I’d composed for his lute music. Heat seared my throat, choking back my words. With no other way to share the melody, I hummed.

  Not breaking stride, he looked down and met my gaze. His beautiful blue eyes sparkled. A smile formed on his lips. “Your song invigorates me.”

  Fire erupted just behind him, flames licking us. Heat weighed down on me. My hum faltered. Muscles clenching, I nestled into him. This was it.

  “We will not die today. Look.” Still cradling me, he pointed.

  We were close. Close to the collapsed wall. Close to safety.

  Another explosion sent Hardeep staggering. Still he twisted to the side, avoiding a falling plank which would have hit me.

  Two more steps. The blazing heat gave way. My lungs gulped the c
ool, fresh air.

  My body shook and shifted as he picked his way through the ruins of the wall.

  He set me down. My legs protested, but I managed to keep from an embarrassing tumble to the ground.

  Blinking away the blurriness, I looked.

  Bodies littered the courtyard. Imperial soldiers took provincial men into custody.

  Cousin Kai-Long stood tall, a dashing figure casting an equally dashing smile. At his feet lay Lord Tong’s unmistakably bulky form.

  Headless.

  My stomach churned. I choked back the bile.

  Hardeep rubbed a palm between my shoulders. “Lord Peng basks in glory today, but it is you who won the battle with the Dragon Scale Lute.”

  Me? I raised an eyebrow.

  He swept his hand across the courtyard. “I was here, fighting with Lord Peng. We were nearly defeated when the lute’s wail keened. It sent the rebels into a rout, allowing Lord Peng to recover and turn the tide.”

  What was it in his eyes? Admiration? Nobody had ever validated me, certainly not with such a gaze.

  Rising to my tiptoes, I closed my eyes and tilted my head toward him.

  “Your Highness!” A chorus of familiar voices called.

  I opened my eyes and turned.

  My faithful imperial guards each knelt on one knee, fist to the ground.

  Heat flared in my cheeks, and it wasn’t from the burning castle. I’d almost stolen my first kiss, in front of everyone.

  * * *

  .

  Epilogue

  Diverging Paths

  I listened to the songbirds warbling outside the Hall of Bountiful Harvests, my hands trembling. This was where my unlikely adventure had begun, when I first greeted Prince Hardeep.

  Here too, it would end. Father had allowed one last meeting with Prince Hardeep, a reward for my role in subduing the North and for his in saving me.

  Servants opened the doors. Chen Xin and Ma Jun snapped into a salute.

  Secretary Hong bowed and extended a hand inviting me to enter. “The Emperor will allow you to meet Prince Hardeep alone.”

  Alone. I smoothed out my court gown. If only I had a mirror. I’d spent hours preening, in hopes of giving Prince Hardeep a perfect last memory of me. Taking a deep breath, I stepped over the high threshold.

  Prince Hardeep pressed his palms together and bowed his head. Dressed in a ceremonial kurta, he looked so handsome. So perfect. It was hard to imagine that just two weeks before, his face had been covered in soot. Though even then, his hair never seemed out of place. He smiled at me. “Princess Kaiya, thank you for seeing me off.”

  He made it sound so…trivial. A simple parting, after everything we’d been through. I bowed my head. “It is my honor to do so. I am sorry I could not do anything for your homeland. The treaty with Madura remains in place for one more year, and the remains of the Dragon Scale Lute are buried beneath Wailian Castle.” Not that Father would allow me to go to Ankira, anyway.

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You have given me something more precious. Hope.”

  Tears threatened to ruin my make-up.

  “Will you sing for me? As a memory of our meeting.”

  An audacious request under normal circumstances, but there was nothing normal about the two of us. He had guided me to the power of Dragon Songs, made me find a purpose beyond political marriage. I cast a glance out of the Hall, where my guards and Secretary Hong stood. Who cared what they thought? I owed Hardeep this courtesy. “I’ve put words to your lute song.”

  His eyebrow lifted and his lips quirked into a smile. I’d spent the last two weeks composing the lyrics. Toes gripping the floor, spine straight, I let my spirit guide my song about an uncertain girl who’d found purpose beyond the circumstances of her birth. Jubilation coursed through me, sending each nerve tingling. Even if he wouldn’t understand the words, he would feel my intent.

  “So much emotion,” he intoned.

  I drew inspiration from his voice, pouring my soul into words. With each note, my spirit floated higher until it reached a crescendo. His irises sparkled back at me. No matter what anyone else thought, I felt truly beautiful in his eyes. Finishing my song, I looked up at him through my lashes.

  In three quick steps, he stood before me and clasped my hands. Warmth surged through me. He leaned in, breath hot on my neck.

  “Thank you, Princess Kaiya. Your voice, just like the legendary Yanyan’s, could enchant the dragon Avarax. I may return home empty-handed, but my heart is full.” He withdrew, his lips tracing across my neck. Electricity coursed through me, every nerve on edge.

  No! He was leaving. It was too soon.

  “Wait.” I loosened several dwarf-forged platinum pins binding my voluminous hair, sending unruly locks tumbling down to my waist. Fiddling with an errant tendril, I proffered the jewels, each worth a soldier’s annual pay. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be insulted. “Prince Hardeep, please accept these as my personal apology for not being able to help you.”

  He plucked the simplest hairpin, my favorite. The brush of his finger across my palm sent a jolt of excitement up my spine. He pressed the jewel to his breast. “I will keep this one as a bittersweet souvenir of you and your voice.”

  I started to speak, but no words came out.

  Lips trembling upward, Hardeep unpinned from his shirt a shard of cinnabar, shaped into the likeness of Ankira’s nine-pointed lotus. He pressed the trinket in my palm and closed my hand around it. His large, strong hands wrapped around mine. “Please accept this as a symbol of our meeting. When you gaze at it, remember that no matter how far away I am, I will be thinking of you.”

  Warm like his smile, the lotus jewel buzzed, sending pleasant pulsations through me.

  He turned and left. When he reached the door, he bent his head with a sidelong glance at me. “Once you have grown in your music, I am sure you will come to me.” Without waiting for a response, he marched out of the hall.

  Was it my pulse or the lotus jewel vibrating so rapidly? I reached back toward a column to steady myself. Yes, when I was ready, I would go to him.

  The End

  Continue the Daughter of the Dragon Throne series in book two, Dragon Charmer; Or read the full version, Songs of Insurrection.

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  The Woman In The Wind

  S.C. Stokes

  The Woman In The Wind © 2017 S.C. Stokes

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The Woman In The Wind

  Trapped between the man she loves, and the world she serves.

  As Guardian, Elaina has patiently watched over the world of Meldinar for almost a century. Born with the gift of magic, Elaina has always sought to better the lives of those she protects.

  Governed by the unyielding laws of her people, Elaina must conceal herself from those she watches over. A dictate Elaina has always observed, until now.

  When fate threatens the life of an innocent, Elaina throws caution to the wind to save him. Caught between her conscience and her duty, Elaina’s choices pit her against not only her own people, but the God she has sworn to serve.

 
One

  Elaina Stormborn watched in trepidation as the flames grew higher. Summer had been unusually dry this year, and the fierce sun had withered the eastern forests. Elaina had no idea what had caused the forest fire, but the scorching inferno was sweeping through the dried woodlands with a vengeance.

  It was the plume of smoke that had first drawn her attention. The dense cloud of ash rose steadily into the afternoon sky, and, curious, Elaina had made her way nearer to the blaze. The swift-moving flames, while deadly to others, were little threat to her.

  Elaina was of the Astarii, a race of beings created by the Allfather to watch over his dominion. Creation as it was known, spanned countless worlds, all of which bowed in obeisance before the Allfather. The Astarii were his chosen servants, raised up from the humans that had once inhabited the Celestial City. The Allfather endowed the Astarii with divine gifts and arcane abilities beyond the powers of ordinary men.

  The Astarii could easily bend the elements to their will. The energy other races referred to as magic coursed through their beings. Each Astarii was also imbued with a mark. For some it was an element with which they bore particular affinity; for others it took the form of a creature. Elaina bore the mark of the Wind, and with it an affinity for elemental magic.

  Once the Astarii came of age they learned to shapeshift into their marks. For an Astarii of the flame this mark would allow the youth to transform himself into an inferno much like the fire Elaina was witnessing now. Other youth learned to shape shift into a raging bull, or a hawk, or a serpent. Each youth was born with a mark. It was the birthright of the Astarii, a birthright that brought with it a solemn duty.