Dragon Knight

by Alicia Wolfe

  What his traitorous brother Nevos had done to him …

  Not just him but all the Fae …

  The chamberlain knocked on a door, and I was shocked when he opened it, revealing Davril’s bedroom. I sucked in a breath at seeing the huge four-poster bed and the elaborate drapes, closed now to block out the sun. Davril, wearing his street clothes, tight T-shirt, and jeans, bent over a suitcase on the bed, and he was stuffing it with clothes from the dresser. The dresser’s doors jutted out at different lengths, shirts and pants spilling out of them.

  “Here she is, my lord,” the chamberlain said, bowed, and left us.

  All he needs is a monocle, I thought. When he was gone, I stared at Davril. His jaw was set tensely, and he didn’t look at me as he packed.

  “Well?” he said, still without turning to me. “Are you just going to stand there?”

  I swallowed. “Yes?”

  “Come in or leave, Jade. Don’t just loiter in the hallway.”

  I stiffened my spine and stepped across the threshold, into Davril’s bedroom. Instantly it grew hotter, and I ran my lips across my suddenly dry lips.

  “Nice digs,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows, still packing. “Thank you.”

  Gesturing at his street clothes, not that he noticed, I said, “Where are you going?”

  He paused with a shirt halfway lowered to the suitcase. Then, strangely, he turned to me, and his eyes bored a hole through me. “To you,” he said.

  Gulp.

  “What … to me?”

  “Yes,” he said, his words slow, his voice rough. “To you.”

  “I don’t … understand. Davril, walk me through this. You’re acting like a madman.”

  His hands started to turn to fists, balling up the shirt, but then he relaxed them and laid the shirt in the suitcase. His face hard, Davril said, “I betrayed my Queen. I cannot return to her. I cannot … face her again.” He swung his head away from me, as if he couldn’t bear to face me, either.

  Heart beating wildly, I stepped around him, then approached him from the other side. His eyes glistened wetly. I stepped closer, raising my palm to his cheek. His skin was smooth and hot. Shock filled me—shock at his emotion, shock at how close we were. I could feel his body heat, smell the faint scent of leather and musk.

  “I had no idea,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  “I have no choice,” he said, and I could feel his breath on my nose “I’ve broken my vows of honesty to Queen Calista. I must leave her service. I have nowhere to go. I was hoping you would allow me to stay with you, for a time.”

  Hell yeah! I thought. Then I threw a bucket of ice water on my inner self.

  “You can’t,” I said. With my free hand, I reached for his and squeezed it. “You’re overacting, Davril. You didn’t betray Calista. You just…”

  “Yes?”

  “Just didn’t tell her everything.”

  “I’m afraid that sounds like dishonesty to me.”

  “Sometimes you have to tell a lie to do a greater good,” I said.

  “How does deceiving my queen accomplish a greater good?”

  “Because she doesn’t want you to leave,” I said. “She needs you, Davril. If you left, it would devastate her.”

  He furrowed his brow. His eyes were dry now, but his face was still taut. “Do you think so?” He needed to believe it. He had to believe it.

  And it was true.

  “Yes,” I said.

  My heart leapt as I saw life return to his eyes and hope flicker across his face. His lips twitched, not quite in a smile but almost, and his hand squeezed mine. For a moment I thought his other arm was going to reach around my back and draw me in, and I readied myself, hoping for it.

  Before he could, a strange chime sounded, almost like some old bell. Davril’s head cocked, and I could tell he was communing with something, likely whatever intelligence governed his household magical wards—probably a magical construct of some sort. After a moment, he said, “Put him through.”

  The air in the middle of the room shimmered, and before I could even wonder what was going on the face of Federico floated into being in the air, five feet high and two feet off the ground. He grinned as he took us in.

  “Whoa! You two don’t waste any time.”

  Davril and I separated and turned to face the imp. Putting my hands on my hips, I said, “Federico, what the hell do you think you’re doing? We were kind of in the middle of something.”

  “So I see.”

  Davril put some bite into his voice. “Tell us why you called.”

  “Is that a suitcase?”

  “Federico!” I said.

  The imp sighed. “Alright, alright. I called because my memory’s starting to come back. Not all at once, but bits and pieces.” His face turned grim. “I remember what Angela took from me. I remember what I gave her. I didn’t mean to, but she took it, damn her.”

  I traded an uneasy look with Davril, then glanced back to Federico.

  “What was it?” I said.

  To Davril, Federico said, “You know that mirror, Dav-me-boy? The one in your living room on the first floor?”

  Davril nodded. “The one my great-great-grandmother designed and passed on.”

  “She was some big sorcerer, right?”

  “Yes, so it is said.”

  “And she communed with all sorts o’ spirits and devils in her researches, right?”

  “So the family legends go,” Davril said. “She explored all sorts of magical theories and practices, always trying to find the limits of our knowledge and push them back. Some said she went too far, that she engaged in blasphemy. There are many dark stories about her.”

  “That sounds scary,” I said.

  “Angela must agree,” Federico said. “And she likes scary.”

  “What do you mean?” I said. “What’s she planning?”

  “I don’t know, but it has something to do with that mirror. It—”

  Before he could finish, Davril and I heard breaking glass, then screaming. The sounds had come from down hall, perhaps from downstairs.

  “Shit,” said Federico. “Guess my warning came too late.”

  Chapter 18

  Davril and I burst from the room and ran down the stairs. I was shaking, but I didn’t let that slow me. I couldn’t believe that just a couple of minutes ago Davril and I had finally been about to get it on. My belly still fluttered, and my loins burned.

  Damn! We were SO CLOSE.

  I heard another scream and forced the thoughts aside. They could come later, if there was a later. Now there were people in danger, and it was our job to make sure that they were safe. And to stop Angela, whatever she was up to.

  “What could she want with a mirror?” I panted as we reached the stairs and bounded down them.

  “I don’t know,” Davril said.

  Weapons of all kinds adorned the walls of his keep, and I grabbed one as we hit the bottom of the stairs, then turned toward the sound of crashing and grunting. As we sprinted down a corridor, a shape dove down out of the darkness above and swept toward my head. Almost too late I noted the scant light glinting off its long sharp beak. Thank God for my shifter vision.

  I just barely dove aside in time. I crashed against the wall and rebounded, but the giant blackbird had swept by. Davril’s hand flew toward the invisible hilt of this sword, then drew the weapon, and its light bathed the walls.

  “A Razor Wing!” I said.

  The shape alit on the ground and shifted, turning into a woman. She still wore clothes, which impressed me, since most shifters changed shapes naked. Those clothes were black leather covered in shiny zippers. One of her hands lifted, and a ball of green fire raced toward Davril’s head. My heart leapt into my throat. Shit!

  Davril raised his blade. The green fireball hit it and exploded, singeing the tapestries hanging from the wall. I reeled back, eyes wide.

  In the distance sounded more fighting, the breaking of potter
y, the whickering of arrows. A faint explosion.

  The Razor Wing woman, evidently a sorcerer as well as a shifter—a hell of a combination—lifted her palm again. Green fire gathered there.

  Before she could loose the blast, I raised my crossbow and fired at her heart. Her other hand lifted curtly, and a magical shield shimmered into existence. The arrow struck it and exploded. The move had bought us time, however. While the shield had been going up, the green fire had died on her palm.

  “Surrender or suffer the consequences,” Davril said, marching toward her. Conflict played out on his face, and I didn’t have to wonder why. He didn’t want to hurt a woman.

  I couldn’t let his chivalry screw this up.

  The Razor Wing prepared to unleash another green fireball.

  Checking to make sure I had another bolt loaded, I fired again. The bolt whizzed toward her head. She ducked. The bolt sailed over her head. I’d been running at her full tilt from the second I’d loosed the shot, and I hit her going full-speed as she stood back up. We both tumbled to the floor.

  She kicked me in the stomach. I punched her in the jaw. She grunted, and blood flew. She kicked me again. Damn, but she was strong. Her shifter abilities gave her inhuman strength, just like mine did.

  Just as I prepared another punch, Davril arrived and brought his sword down. He hit her on the head with the flat of his blade. She grunted and collapsed, unconscious.

  “You’ve got to stop being so nice,” I said.

  He offered me a hand. I took it and let him pull me up.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  We were very close. Once more, I could feel his heat.

  Screams made our heads snap in that direction. As one, we raced toward the sounds, spilling out into a large living room with a stone fireplace and large windows covered in expensive drapes. The drapes were torn in many places and ripped apart, hanging in long crimson folds. Broken glass littered the ground.

  Several Razor Wings, evidently having entered through the windows, circled in the air of the large chamber, around the elaborate chandelier and above the fine couches and tables. Four or five of Davril’s guards were giving the Razor Wings battle, either firing crossbows or leaping at them with swords. The huge birds weaved and ducked. One grabbed up a soldier with its talons and threw him toward the raging fireplace. Another soldier jumped through the air and blocked him from going into the flames. Both tumbled to the floor.

  The Razor Wing that had picked the man up shrieked and alit on the floor before a huge mirror that stood in one corner. As she did, she transformed, becoming a human woman. Another joined her, then another. More continued to circle overhead in bird form.

  “Begone!” Davril shouted.

  Instead of responding, the three women who’d changed shapes turned to the mirror and began muttering a spell under their breaths. I sensed magics unknitting, as if wards that had been protecting the mirror were being undone—loosed. I sniffed deep, smelling the copper scent of strong magic.

  My blood hummed with the lust for action. My eyes darted about, looking for the best way to join in the fighting.

  Davril lunged in. His sword flashed, striking down another Razor Wing with the flat of his blade. Another streaked toward his head. It would hit him before he could reposition his sword. My finger was already tightening around the trigger of my crossbow. My bolt sprouted in the bird’s head. It screamed and spiraled from the air, smashing into a table and breaking it. One of the soldiers jumped out of the way.

  The three witches increased the pitch of their chants. The mirror trembled, then levitated. Apparently waiting for this, two Razor Wings grabbed the mirror, one on each side of its upper portions, then flew it to and through the shattered window. They disappeared with the mirror into the night.

  “Damn,” said Davril.

  A Razor Wing raked its talons toward his head. I fired at it and missed. Davril ducked and the bird flew up, joining its comrades as they streamed to the door. A few feathers drifted through the air, and a broken piece of furniture collapsed.

  The Razor Wings were all gone, even the three witches. And they’d taken the mirror with them.

  I helped a soldier off the ground and Davril assisted another. A third had a cut leaking blood down from his ear.

  “Go to the Tower of Elshe,” Davril commanded him, and the fellow nodded and left, holding the side of his head. “You up for some more action?” Davril asked me.

  “Hell yes.”

  His eyes sparked, and I grinned back. At least we had one thing in common. If only it could bury the hatchet between us.

  “Prepare Lady Kay,” Davril told one of his men. “And ready the troops.” The man nodded and rushed off. “The rest of you, clean up this mess and get the window fixed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They didn’t ask what the attack had been about but leapt to obey, and I had to admire the loyalty Davril inspired in his men, and the trust. I had to admit I felt a little bit of that, too.

  “Are you sure, Jade?” he said. “It will be dangerous. Those Razor Wings are probably taking the mirror to Angela.”

  “I know.”

  He nodded, and we rushed toward the hangar. We arrived to find Lady Kay already pumping her wings, readying herself for liftoff. Knights in shining armor were pulling themselves into the saddles of their pegasi behind her. Battle, I thought. I’m going into another battle. I wasn’t sure if I would ever get used to it.

  Davril and I hopped into the front seat of Lady Kay, he said, “Ra!” and we took off, her wings stroking the air to either side of us. Behind us, the knights on their beautiful white-winged steeds lifted off, too, and followed us. Together we streamed out into the night, determined to find the Razor Wings—but more importantly, the mirror. Just what did Angela want it for, anyway?

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” Davril said, and I turned to see him working his jaw. His hands twisted on the wheel.

  “You think Federico knows?” I said. “You think he’ll remember?”

  “I don’t know.” Davril scanned the avenue between buildings ahead, and I glanced to either side, peering where he couldn’t.

  No sign of the Razor Wings so far. I knew they couldn’t be far. They could ambush us at any time.

  As if thinking the same thing, Davril tapped a button on the console. “Dispatch, this is Stormguard.”

  The radio crackled: “Stormguard, this is Dispatch. Proceed.”

  I almost laughed. Lady Kay really was a cop car.

  “Razor Wings sacked my keep. Stole a mirror. In pursuit with mounted troops. Advise.”

  A long moment passed, then: “What use is the mirror to them?” The voice was Calista’s.

  “I don’t know,” Davril said.

  A sigh. “Find it. Stop them.”

  Davril nodded and switched off.

  I swallowed. Okay, so not exactly a cop car. But still.

  “If I help you get it back, will you stay?” I said. “I mean, stay with Queen Calista?”

  “You don’t want me around?”

  I didn’t look at him. My heart pounded. “I want you to stay with Queen Calista. It’s where you belong.”

  A pause. “It’s where you need me to be. To help you.”

  “Screw you. Besides—”

  The Razor Wings dove in from the left, a whole long stream of them. On three of their backs were the witch women. They had evidently elected to take their human forms to make spellcasting easier, and I wondered if they could even do it while shifted. I’d never heard of such abilities, but these gals were full of surprises.

  The lead woman had gathered a fireball on her palm, and she loosed it on one of Davril’s knights, who swerved aside.

  Instantly, the cloud of Razor Wings enveloped Lady Kay. A sword smashed against the window to my side, and a mace clattered off the windshield. Cracks starred it. An arrow slashed in through the metal of the rear door.

  Davril stomped the gas. Lady Kay shot forward. He tur
ned the wheel hard as he hit the brakes, and as we entered an intersection he turned her around, then shot her directly into the melee. It was an all-out brawl as the Razor Wings set among the knights, raking their armor with wicked talons and biting at their helmets with razor-sharp beaks. The knights fired at them with arrows, blasted them with magical energy and sliced at them with swords.

  Davril unsheathed his own sword. Rolling down his window, he slashed it at a Razor Wing diving at one of his troops from behind. The bird would have killed the man. Davril hacked at the wing, and the Razor Wing spiraled from the sky, alive but out of the fight. I knew its wound would heal faster than I’d like.

  “Really,” I said. “You have to stop being so nice.”

  I rolled down my own window and took aim on a Razor Wing as it dove on us from that side, shooting it through the breast. The bird plummeted.

  Behind where it had been, a warrior mage, or witch or whatever, on a Razor Wing saw me. She scowled and hurled a ball of blue light.

  Davril mashed petals and twisted the wheel. We swerved down and away, and the ball flickered overhead, then fizzled out. I fired at the mage/witch (I guess I’ll just go with witch, since that’s what Angela was), but the shot went wild. Luckily, it didn’t hit one of our guys.

  As we avoided another blast, I saw movement from down a cross-street.

  “That way!” I said. “They’re taking the mirror that way!”

  The same two birds as before carried the mirror, and they were being shepherded by half a dozen Razor Wings, plus one unshifted witch rider.

  “Harry them into submission!” Davril shouted to his troops (yeah, he actually said that), then floored it. Lady Kay’s engine thrummed and she shot forward, toward the mirror-thieves. I grinned as we neared them, the battle falling away but a new one about to begin.

  I reloaded my crossbow. “I’m ready.”