Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels

by C. N. Crawford

  Pale amber light streamed through the window, illuminating her sparsely furnished room. Her muscles burned, and her head felt like it was full of stuffing. Apparently, transforming into a nighthawk was a bit of a shock to the nervous system. Her head throbbing, she rose from bed and crossed the room to test the door. It was still locked. She hoped Linnet or Niniane would come soon. She really needed to pee.

  A distant cry pierced the silence, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. It had been faint, but she recognized it nonetheless. She would never forget the scream of a dragon.

  Her heart raced, and she crossed to the other door—the one with the stairwell that connected to the room with the fireplace. Wouldn’t someone be in there? “Let me out!” she shouted. “There’s a dragon.”

  The only response was the primal screech of the dragon behind her, its scream echoing through the open window, now louder, closer. Her heart hammering, she turned back to the window—nothing but clear blue sky. Of course, she had no idea what she’d been hoping to see, since dragons were invisible. She turned to bang on the door again, until at last the lock turned.

  Niniane pulled open the door, staring at Ursula from below her wild mop of dark curls. A linen bag hung over her shoulder.

  Ursula grabbed her arm. “There’s a dragon. I need to get out of here.”

  Niniane’s voice cracked when she spoke. “We need to go to the cellar. Elaine said to take you there. It’s the safest place.”

  Ursula snatched her boots from the floor, slipping into them. “I can help fight if someone gives me my magic back.”

  “No.” Niniane shook her head, turning to lead Ursula down the stairs. “We’re to go to the cellar.”

  In the main chamber, Ursula’s gaze flicked to the halberd above the fireplace. It looked rusty and dull, but it was better than nothing. If the dragon was able to find her in the cellar, maybe it would come in useful. But before she could pull it from the wall, the dragon’s screech rent the air again, so loud that it rumbled through her gut. She ran to the arrow slit overlooking the courtyard.

  Nimue and her maidens stood in the center. Dressed in white, the women formed a small semi-circle around the queen. She could hear them singing in Angelic.

  Ursula’s breath caught as terror chilled her blood. Across from them, a dragon crouched. It was enormous—at least the size of a city bus. Fiery red scales glinted in the sunlight. As the girls sang louder, the scales seemed to deepen in color. The spell they were casting had made it visible. And it clearly wasn’t happy.

  The dragon extended its neck toward the women and shrieked. The sound was deafening. Instinctively Ursula clapped her hands to her ears. Elaine and the maidens continued to sing.

  The dragon stalked toward the queen. “Give me the girl,” it said in a voice that was something between a growl and a roar.

  “No. I will not allow the prophecy to unfold!” Nimue boomed.

  “Where is she?” The dragon paused, sniffing the air. “I can smell her. She is near.” Its head swiveled to look at the keep. Despite the narrowness of the embrasure, it fixed its yellow gaze on Ursula. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as the ancient part of her brain screamed at her to run. And yet, her body wouldn’t obey.

  Niniane tugged at her arm. “Let’s go. Now.”

  Ursula turned, sputtering, her legs like jelly. She’d never felt such raw terror before, and her mind whirled as Niniane led her by the hand through the corridor.

  Niniane pulled on her hand, urging her to run faster. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to look a dragon in the eye?”

  Footfalls boomed over the earth. As she ran, she glanced at the windows, her world tilting as she caught another glimpse of the dragon. His shriek rumbled the castle walls as he hurled his body toward the keep, shaking the walls with an ear-shattering crash. With the next slam of its body, Ursula fell to the floor. Glass shattered around her as a taloned foot punched through a glass window, grasping for her body. Nearby, Niniane screamed. Ursula scrambled to her feet, lunging away from the talons, and she managed to dodge it. A single claw caught her dress, tearing it, but Ursula was already breaking into a sprint.

  With Niniane close behind, she headed for the stairwell, legs shaking. Boom. The castle walls trembled as the dragon threw its body at the keep again. It felt like being in the epicenter of an earthquake.

  “How far to the cellar?” she gasped.

  “Just a few more floors.” Niniane took the lead, descending deeper into the bowels of the structure. Down here, the light dimmed and the air grew colder. Candles in sconces lit the way, but their flames burned dully. There was a damp, musty smell, like an ancient cave.

  A few more turns down the spiraling staircase and they stepped into a low cellar. Niniane held her hand up and incanted a spell for light, calling forth a glowing orb that cast a golden light over dusty barrels and casks lining the walls. A wine cellar, by the look of it. A crash shook the room, and dusty debris rained down on them.

  Niniane’s entire body was trembling as she stared at Ursula. “Are you all right? The dragon nearly had you.”

  “Yes. It only managed to rip my dress.”

  Boom. Another crash shook the walls, and more dust puffed from cracks in the ceiling.

  “Niniane,” said Ursula. “I don’t think we’re safe down here. The dragon will dig until it finds us. When I was in New York, a dragon clawed through the street and into the subway just to attack—” Ursula stopped short when she saw the incomprehension in Niniane’s eyes. Of course. You have no idea what a subway is. “Anyway, it dug into the ground.”

  Instead of responding, Niniane turned and ran, her linen bag bouncing off her hip. She stopped at a particularly large barrel of wine propped against a wall. “Help me.” She leaned over, resting her hands on the barrel’s sides. “We need to move it out of the way.”

  Boom. The room trembled around her and Ursula stumbled, almost falling as she hurried to the girl’s side. She had no idea what Niniane was planning, but she’d come to trust Nimue’s handmaidens—even if they’d imprisoned her.

  “We need to push,” Niniane explained. “There’s a tunnel.”

  Ursula stood by Niniane’s side, and together they rolled the barrel out of the way. Although it appeared to be made of solid oak it rolled with surprising ease, revealing the mouth of a dark tunnel, about three feet high.

  “This way.” Niniane dropped to her hands and knees, crawling through the gap.

  Ursula paused at the entrance. What was Bael doing right now? She didn’t like the idea of leaving him behind. But then again, even without his magic, the man knew how to fight. He was an ancient warrior demon of the Shadow Realm, and he probably didn’t need her help.

  She dropped to her knees and crawled into the tunnel.

  Once inside the tunnel, the ceiling opened up slightly and she could get off her hands and knees, but she still had to crouch to fit in it. The spongy floor smelled of mildew, and as she walked, she felt as if the walls and ceiling were closing in on her. In the dim light, she could have sworn she saw a rat scurry across the floor. Boom. Water droplets fell from the ceiling like rain.

  As debris and water rained around them, they scrambled through the tunnel, following the golden light of Niniane’s orb. They fell into a plodding rhythm, one foot in front of another, soft mud squishing under their knees. At last, the dragon’s booms went quiet, and Ursula’s stomach unclenched. Down here in the dim light, she felt oddly comforted, hidden from sight.

  “I think we’re near the end,” said Niniane, just at the point where the muddy floor gave way to dark stone. “There seem to be steps here.”

  Through the dim light, Ursula stumbled forward to a rough stone staircase. She straightened, peering up into the darkness. Niniane sent her orb higher, illuminating the dank interior of a narrow shaft. On one wall, iron bars had been hammered into the stone forming a sort of ladder.

  “Up this way,” said Niniane.

  Ursula gripped the ir
on, climbing higher behind Niniane. “Where is this tunnel taking us, exactly?”

  “Outside of the keep. You mustn’t tell anyone. The secret of the cellar tunnel is known only to the queen’s handmaidens.”

  “And she sent you to save me?” asked Ursula.

  “No. That was my idea. I couldn’t leave you in there, could I?” she said defensively.

  “Thank you.” Ursula wished she could give the girl a hug.

  After a few more feet, Niniane stopped. The orb cast a golden light on a rough trap door, and Niniane pushed on it. More light streamed into the shaft. Above them Ursula could see the gauzy fluttering of apple blossoms. Niniane shoved the round trap door aside, and crawled out.

  Ursula pulled herself out onto the mossy earth, then leaned against the trunk of an apple tree. Honeyed rays pierced the boughs, dappling the earth with flecks of gold. Carefully, Niniane slid the wooden cover back over the hole. The side facing up was covered in moss and dirt, and as it closed, Ursula was amazed to see how perfectly it matched the forest floor. When Niniane kicked a few leaves on top, it practically disappeared.

  Ursula took a deep breath. “We’re out of the castle now, but I don’t believe we’ve rid ourselves of the dragon problem.”

  As if to illustrate her point, a dragon’s screech pierced the air, and Ursula’s stomach dropped.

  Ursula followed Niniane through the woods, the sky obscured by the vast canopy of apple blossoms. She hadn’t had time to put on a bra before leaving, so she hugged her arms under her breasts for support. “Where are we going?”

  “I know someone who can help us.” She peered at Ursula. “Do you have a lover?”

  Ursula’s brow rose. Niniane wasn’t anywhere near old enough for this conversation, unless this was one those places where people married at the age of thirteen. “Why are you asking about that?”

  “The dragons are coming for you. You shouldn’t die without finding true love.”

  “Mmm. Good point.”

  Up ahead, the sound of rushing water interrupted the forest’s quiet. Niniane’s pace quickened until the trees began to thin giving way to the rocky bank of a mountain stream that rushed down a rocky mountainside, spilling between jagged boulders. Niniane hurried toward the nearest boulder, pulling off her linen bag and dropping it on the rock. Then, she pulled her dress over her head.

  “I need an explanation at this point,” said Ursula.

  Niniane splashed the stream water on her body. “We must clean ourselves.”

  Ursula looked down at her mud spattered nightgown. “Our clothing is covered in muck. I don’t think it’ll make much difference unless you have a washer and dryer nearby.”

  Niniane smiled, pointing to her linen bag. “I brought us dresses.” Then she jumped into the air, her dark curls trailing behind her, and leapt into the pool.

  Ursula peeled off her nightgown, then leaned over to pull off her boots. In just her knickers, she followed Niniane into the pool. The water closed over her head with an icy splash until she surfaced, sputtering. “It’s bloody freezing,” she muttered.

  “Rinse your hair quickly,” said Niniane.

  Ursula did as instructed—after all, the girl had got her this far alive. Maybe she knew what she was doing. As fast as she could, she rinsed the tunnel-muck from her ginger bob.

  When she’d finished, she pulled herself onto the boulder again, and Niniane passed her a blue dress.

  “Thanks.” Braless, Ursula pulled the silky dress over her head, dismayed to find that it was the perfect size for Niniane—and several sizes too small for her. It hugged her body, and her breasts stretched the bodice fabric. The cleavage situation was out of control. At least the tight bodice would afford her some support.

  “You’re welcome,” said Niniane. She studied Ursula for a while. “I can take you to the ferryman now.”

  Ursula sucked in a deep breath. “I didn’t realize there was a ferry involved. Look, I don’t know what happened to the person I came here with.”

  “I’m sure your friend is fine. As soon as the dragon screamed, everyone ran for the forest. No doubt he fled like the rest.”

  Ursula’s throat tightened as she pulled her boots back on. That doesn’t sound at all like Bael. “I’m sure he is fine, but he would never run from a fight. In any case, I came to Avalon with him, and I’m not leaving without him.”

  “Seems to me like you don’t have much choice.”

  Ursula shook her head. “I came here for answers, too. I’ve got to leave with something. I need some way to fight the dragons.” What she needed most of all was the gods-damned sword to fight the dragon. She hugged herself, weighing her options. Option one was following Niniane to the ferryman—the easy way out. Option two was going back in search of Bael, but she’d be defenseless against the dragon and could put Bael at risk if he felt the need to save her. Or, option three, she could go back armed. She could wrestle control over this situation once and for all—maybe she could get this sword to fight the dragons.

  Ursula crossed her arms. “I need you to take me to the Lady of the Lake.” What if she was some sort of Darkling? With the sword, she’d be able to take on an entire army of dragons. And even if she weren’t, the sword was supposed to be the only weapon capable of piercing a dragon’s flesh.

  Niniane’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “I can’t do that. You shouldn’t even ask. People might think… people might think you’re someone that you’re not.”

  The Darkling thing again. “Okay. Don’t take me. Just point me in the general direction. I believe she has a sword I need.”

  Niniane backed away, nearly falling into the stream. “No. Please stop asking. Don’t you know the prophecy? The Darkling will arrive on our shores, searching for the sword?” She seemed seriously spooked. “Look, maybe I should get back to the queen. The ferryman is just over there.” She pointed to a grove of trees just on the other side of the stream. “You can go on your own. But you must leave. I shouldn’t have taken you this far.”

  Ursula glanced at the grove of trees. When she turned back to Niniane, the girl had already leapt off the rock, and she was sprinting for the forest in a blur.

  “Why are you so scared?” Ursula called.

  But Niniane didn’t answer, her form seeming to shimmer away as she ran.

  Darkling. The word echoed in Ursula’s skull. She’d terrified everyone by asking for the sword in the first place, and then something about her had unnerved both the queen and Merlin. Still—if the sword would give her power, that’s what she needed right now to end this dragon apocalypse.

  Ursula ran after Niniane, but the girl had disappeared like a deer in the underbrush. Ursula called her name, weaving through the apple trees, but after twenty minutes of searching, Ursula only succeeded in finding her way back to the stream. The nighthawk spell would come in handy about now, but she hadn’t managed to memorize it. Still, she needed to find a way to survey the landscape.

  By the edge of the stream, she surveyed her surroundings. She stood on the side of a ridge, the stream cascading down the mountainside, rushing between rocks. Hadn’t Merlin said the Lady of the Lake lived at the peak of the Tor? She didn’t know what Tor meant, but if it had a peak, it had to be a hill of some sort, and if nothing else, climbing higher up the mountain would give her a better vantage point.

  She began trudging up the slopes, her mind echoing with the word Darkling. If it was her destiny, there was no point in fighting it.

  Chapter 15

  After a half hour of hiking, Ursula reached the ridge’s peak, completely winded, her legs aching. But she’d been right about the view—she could see clear down the side of the mountain, along its gentle slope that led to the apple blossom forests, and on to the mist-shrouded castle. A black column of smoke rose from the turrets. The dragon was wreaking some serious damage, and she needed to put a stop to it.

  Above her was the great ring of basalt that marked the rim of the Tor. Sunlight glinted off dar
k, volcanic rock—pumice and obsidian. Okay, so it’s not just a hill. It’s a bloody volcano.

  If there was ever a good time to have her fire magic, it would be now, but she’d have to do without it.

  She’d been hiking for at least an hour when she came upon the trail that wound between the rocks—a narrow path barely more than a game trail. She would have mistaken it for exactly that had there not been a pile of stones twenty meters up the mountainside. A cairn—a landmark of rocks. Mountain goats didn’t build cairns.

  Moving as swiftly as she could, she hiked up the treeless trail, bathed in sunlight. Here, a few forlorn tufts of grass grew from the gravel and scree. She was probably imagining it, but she had the sense that the grass seemed to bend away from her as she walked, as if she terrified even the plants. Could they sense her Darkling powers? Up here, a cold wind whipped over her skin, and the temperature dropped, but the hiking kept her warm. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She squinted in the sunlight, looking out for the next cairn when she felt a familiar prickle up her spine. Someone was watching her.

  Up here, she had nowhere to hide. She was totally exposed on the mountainside. Why couldn’t Niniane have grabbed a blade? Even a kitchen knife would have been better than nothing.

  Footfalls crunched over the gravel path. Ursula whirled, ready to fight with her hands if she had to. And there was Bael, the sunlight gilding his powerful body. She took in his beauty—the perfect sweep of dark hair, the golden skin and gray eyes, the combination of colors like sunlight piercing storm clouds. Finally, he’d found clothes that fit him—black, as usual, with short sleeves that showed off his thickly corded arms, inked with vicious tattoos. A sword hung from his hip, and he carried a jacket under one arm.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Fancy meeting you here. Were you looking for me?”