by Eva Brandt
“That, and we did rent a room we haven’t paid for. We might as well leave the money, if it’s in our ability. Besides, you know as well as I do that, most of the time, gold is as important to other species as it is for dragons. This might help solve the issues caused by our... tactlessness.”
“You have a point, although technically, the nymph cast the first spell,” Raijin said. “Anyway, this will just have to do. We’ll explain the situation to Cheimon once we return to The Frozen Peaks. For now, let’s go, before more of them show up. We have what we came for.”
We didn’t bother leaving the room the way we’d entered it. Instead, I headed toward the broken windows, cleared out the remaining shards and jumped down, into the alley beneath. I landed easily on my feet, and Kerryn and Raijin followed, a few seconds later.
It was still raining, and the hail targeted our exposed bodies with as much viciousness as it had earlier. Unfortunately, that was where the similarities between the two situations ended. We’d barely made it out of the room when another nymph peeked out through the broken windows, this time accompanied by several satyrs. “There they are,” the satyr who had greeted us at the door shouted. “Get them!”
I shared a pained look with my companions. My own thoughts were all over their faces. This had to be some grand cosmic joke. I’d thought nothing could be more obnoxious than draconic legislation, but apparently, I hadn’t taken into account perverted goat-men and their nymph cronies.
Normally, I would’ve engaged them in battle just out of the desire to end this whole embarrassing episode. A part of me wanted to do exactly that. But Cheimon needed us to return to her palace post-haste, without causing an inter-realm incident, and we’d already passed the limits of ‘discretion’. As satisfying as it might be to give the satyrs a lesson, it was out of the question.
Left with no further option, I turned on my heel and dashed toward the end of the alley, with Kerryn and Raijin right behind me. “Stop!” the satyr shouted. “Thief!”
Thief? Oh, for gods’ sake. We hadn’t stolen anything. Not today, at least. Today, we’d only retrieved a person who had disregarded his duty to his queen. The satyr was lucky he hadn’t met us when we were dragonets and more inclined to be drawn to treasure, because otherwise, we would’ve left this whole place raised to the ground.
Kerryn laughed, apparently finding our entire predicament just as dumb as I did. He stopped laughing when several massive figures manifested at the other end of the alley, blocking our escape route. “I’d say that’s more like it,” he commented, “but I doubt it will make much of a difference.”
Our new prospective opponents were similar to the hulking white behemoths we’d met before, at The Bridge of Frosted Leaves. I identified them as Bigfoots. Bigfeet? What was the plural of that word? Sometimes, human languages were so confusing.
The creatures were just as furry, beady-eyed and stupid as their snowy cousins, so it stood to reason that they chose the worst possible approach to our situation. Growling madly, they barreled toward us in a stampede that made the ground shake.
They were hardly a threat, but they were a delay, so it was no surprise when Raijin put his foot down. “All right. I’m done with this.”
One thing most people didn’t know about ryūs was that despite being generally level-headed, they could be very dangerous and even unstable if crossed. I’d always deemed it unfair that firedrakes had been the ones viewed as unreliable and unpredictable, given the true nature of a ryū.
In that moment, I mostly found it hilarious, and somewhat liberating. I expected it to get even more entertaining in... about two seconds.
Raijin didn’t disappoint. Unlike me and Kerryn, the lucky bastard didn’t have to go through the tedious process of multiplying and expanding his body mass. With him, it happened naturally. One moment, Raijin was standing in the alley in his humanoid form, and the next, the serpentine body of the ryū had replaced what had previously been a person.
Kerryn and I jumped out of the way, avoiding the danger of being trampled upon by our fellow dragon. Our attackers weren’t nearly as fortunate. The Bigfoot in the lead tried to stop his advance when he saw what had happened, but he ended up tripping over his own massive feet, leading every other creature to run into him due their momentum and inability to register the huge magical serpent now present in the alley.
By now, the nymphs and satyrs had managed to follow us out of the building, but their reaction wasn’t much different from that of the Bigfoots. Bigfeet. Whatever. “What in the name of the gods...” one of the new nymphs whispered.
“We’re going to leave now, and you’re not going to get in our way further,” Kerryn said, his voice lined with steel. “Otherwise, you’ll find that the damage we’ve done so far is nothing compared to what we’re actually capable of.”
The threat snapped the dumbfounded satyrs out of their Raijin-induced trance of shock. “You can’t do this!” one of them shouted. “We are a licensed business authorized by Queen Phthinoporon, Lady of Autumn, ruler of Tou Fthinopórou, The Realm of Eternal Bounties.”
The satyr who greeted us at the door glared at us with such venom he reminded me a little of Kerryn’s more temperamental relatives. “If you think a group of draconic illegal immigrants can just burst in and kidnap one of our patrons, you’re sorely mistaken.”
I didn’t bother explaining that our legal status in this realm was very different from that of a simple illegal immigrant. Instead, I climbed on top of Raijin’s back, with Jack Frost still draped over my shoulder. “I suppose we’ll just have to see about that,” I drawled.
As soon as Kerryn joined me, Raijin took off, his body easily floating up, held aloft by his unique magic. In our wake, the satyrs continued to shout obscenities and the Bigfoots let out ear-splitting bellows that held just as much rage as they did relief.
Raijin did not stop even after we’d left Hailton—with its horrible rain clouds and far too perceptive nymphs—behind. It was a little undignified to ride on top of another male like this, but it was far more practical than to stop, shift and take off again. Raijin was perfectly capable of carrying Kerryn, Jack and me without being hindered or slowed down in any way, and right now, our topmost priority was to get to Cheimon’s palace as soon as possible.
Jack Frost awoke from his slumber as we were crossing the Topaz. “W-What?” he stammered as he weakly struggled in my grasp. “W-Where...”
“You have been retrieved from your previous location by order of Queen Cheimon of The Realm of Eternal Ice,” I said. “Please stop moving, or I might just drop you.”
That was a huge lie, as well as a bluff. Even if we did have an unfortunate accident and I did end up dropping Jack, any one of us would be able to retrieve him before he hit the ground. Cheimon had told us to bring him back to her safe and sound, and that was exactly what we were going to do—even if we had not managed to accomplish this task in a discreet manner.
My words had the unexpected side effect of making my so-called captive look down. It was not the best idea, not for him at least. Jack took one glimpse at how high up we were and promptly passed out.
It was uncharitable of me, but I still felt somewhat relieved at this display. The last thing I wanted to do was to have a conversation with him, when I was still so very concerned about Cheimon.
I’d have liked to hope that our worries were for naught, but if anything, the opposite was the case. As soon as The Frozen Peaks came into view, we realized that not only had we been right to worry, but we’d also wildly underestimated the severity of the situation.
Cheimon’s palace lay on one of the slopes of the massive mountain, with a settlement built around it to house the large number of people who staffed her home. The last time we’d flown over the town, we’d noticed that even during the day, it had been a hive of activity, a lot of people constantly working to make sure the supplies they imported from neighboring lands got to wherever they needed to be despite the harsh weather conditions.<
br />
We could spot no such commotion now, the whole place seeming eerily deserted. The reason for this was easy to spot. The whole mountain was shaking, the snow over the icy peaks after which it had been named starting to tumble down in avalanches of lethal white. Even as we watched, one such snow slide swallowed a copse of trees and buried a few stray houses that had been in the area under tons of the frozen substance.
It didn’t take a genius to realize something was very wrong with our female.
“Hurry!” I shouted over the rush of the wind. “Hurry, Raijin!”
My words had no real effect, as Raijin was already flying as fast as he could. I only hoped we wouldn’t be too late to save our female.
Eight
Their Female
Cheimon
I didn’t remember how I returned to my quarters at the palace. One moment, I was on the river bank, trying to convey a message to a wendigo who had trouble understanding the simple concept of soulmate, and the next, I was waking up in my chambers, under Alva’s watchful gaze. “Your Majesty!” she cried when I opened my eyes and started to fret. “Please remain still. You’re very ill.”
“Ill?” I repeated. My voice cracked when I uttered the lone word. “What... How... I don’t...”
I don’t get ill, was what I wanted to say. The magic of my realm protected me from trivial things like ailments. Even on the rare occasions when I received injuries—which had only happened twice in my life, three times if I included this incident at the Topaz—I healed easily.
Illness was not a word that should’ve been in my vocabulary.
Ignoring Alva’s alarm, I tried to shove the covers off my overheated body. For gods’ sake, no wonder I wasn’t feeling well if my idiotic minions had decided to place me in a sauna.
“Queen Cheimon!” Alva sobbed. “Don’t!”
Her warning came too late. I had already removed the covers, and realized that it did not help me at all. In fact, it had the exact opposite effect. The heat that had mostly been uncomfortable and frustrating until that point exploded into a fiery inferno, and I screamed in fear and agony, feeling like I was melting, burning from the inside out. This had happened before, at the river, but even then, it had not been so bad.
My mind grew fuzzy, and for a few seconds—or perhaps for an entire age—I couldn’t see or think properly. I didn’t know how long I writhed there, flailing in desperation and pain, but by the time I came to once again, my whole body ached, for more than one reason. My arms were covered in thin scratches where I had clawed at myself, and the cut over my breasts had reopened, the bandage visible from beneath my new dress stained with blood. Every single inch of my skin felt oversensitive, and my magic crackled inside of me, exhausted, confused and tugging me in too many different directions.
“Breathe, Queen Cheimon,” January said softly from his spot by my side. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you.”
When had he even shown up? No, never mind that. Why was he talking to me in such a way? I was sick, not a child. I supposed I could give him a pass on this one for the moment, since I did feel weaker than I’d been in years, but if he wasn’t careful, he would regret it.
Blinking blearily, I took note of what had happened while I had been too busy hurting myself to notice. Alva was still hovering next to the bed, and either she or January—who must’ve come rushing in when I’d screamed—had covered me with the quilt again. Runic enchantment, I somehow managed to realize, despite the haze still clouding my mind. The quilt kept my temperature down a little, which was useful and prevented me from experiencing any real pain. It couldn’t help me beyond that.
“What is happening to me?” I gasped out.
It was a rhetorical question more than anything else. I knew exactly what was happening, and I knew why. I was going to kill Jack for this. Slowly and painfully. I’d create my own special brand of torture, something that would really iron certain points home. Like what kind of spells you were not supposed to mess with, especially when you knew the possible consequences.
Completely unaware of my dangerous train of thought, January decided to reply. “You ran afoul of some kind of enchantment earlier, at the river. We are doing our very best to undo it, but—”
His defensive statement did nothing to quell the lingering heat inside me, or pacify my temper. Instead, it made the already rising anger inside me flare and explode, much like the fire I was cursed with had done earlier. “Useless!” I cut him off. “You’re all useless! Get out of my sight! I want to see my dragons!”
The mountain shook in response to my fury. Alva let out a meep of distress and disappeared, just in time to avoid the flurry of icicles that exploded from my body. January stayed, a shield of his own ice magic manifesting in front of him as he attempted to protect himself from my wrath. It cracked like an egg, and he only managed to avoid a very gory end because December ran in and pulled him out of the line of fire at the last moment.
“Out!” I hissed again. “I don’t want to see a hide or hair of any of you until my dragons get here.”
On some level, I acknowledged that it was a little ungrateful to treat them like this when I’d obviously be much worse off without their help. However, I knew that if they stayed, I’d end up killing them in a fit of rage.
To me, my identity as Cheimon had mostly been about serenity, but I had never forgotten the deepest truth of my power. It was sharp, fierce, ruthless and cruel. The cold of winter didn’t discriminate, not really. I didn’t think I’d be able to either, not when I was in this state.
Thankfully, my lieutenants listened, perhaps realizing that they needed to be in one piece to bring me back to sanity. The door closed behind them with a decisive, satisfying bang. Ice crawled over its surface, my magic ensuring nobody would make the mistake of trying to approach anytime soon.
Once I ascertained that I was tentatively safe from causing any unfortunate accidents, I struggled out of my bed, the quilt still wrapped around me. I had no idea how long it would take my dragons to retrieve Jack, and I couldn’t just wait for them. My magic was much too unstable for that. If I got any worse—which was a distinct possibility—I could do real damage, not only to my lieutenants, but also to the whole population of my realm.
My knees threatened to buckle under me as I got up, but I refused to succumb to my condition. I could do this. I had to. I was a queen, gods be damned, and I refused to be felled by a spell cast by a man who couldn’t see what was right in front of his nose.
Thankfully, my meditation chamber adjoined the bedroom, so it didn’t take me long to drag my protesting body there. Shaped like a massive, icy circle, the room held a direct connection to the center of Chronikos and the magic that had created our land. Its mechanism had been crafted by my father before I’d taken the throne, and it helped me connect with energies I didn’t normally have access to.
I knelt in the center of the room, over the symbol of my father’s reign, and took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I knew would be an unpleasant experience.
“Let’s hope this works,” I whispered under my breath and shucked the rune-enchanted quilt off me once again.
This time, the pain didn’t take me by surprise, but that meant very little. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood and forced myself to focus on what truly mattered. Not the pain, never the pain. The people. “Come on, Cassia,” I said to myself. “You can do this.”
Gritting my teeth against the agony, I reached out with my magic, seeking an anchor in the core of the realm I ruled. If I could keep control of it, for a while, just for a little while, I would be all right. I knew that to be true. But it was far easier said than done. The strands of timeless magic that I could usually find and weave with such ease escaped my clumsy hands. I tried harder, even when every single desperate effort made my whole body strain with renewed pain.
My dragons. I needed my dragons. The spell practically screamed it at me, and I hated knowing that it was true, because I had never need
ed anyone before, not like this, not since I had taken the throne and become queen.
A single tear slid down my cheek. I remembered the day I had stopped being Cassia and become Cheimon. I had embraced my position and my power, and set aside foolish thoughts of love or family. Apparently, someone had decided that wasn’t a valid approach.
A memory of my dragons drifted into my mind, the way they had been, mere hours before. I remembered their smiles, their warm voices, their determined expressions when they had promised to stay by my side. Even when their vow had confused me, it had been nice to have them close. I had felt safe with them in a way I never had with anyone else.
As Cheimon, I could not love them, not really. I might have welcomed them here as my guests and aids. I might have even bedded them, embraced the desire that had sparked between us from the moment we’d first met. But love was not desire, or not just that, and loving, caring, was dangerous for a queen.
Love was fire, and as such, incompatible with being the avatar of eternal ice.
In truth, I did not know what they would make of what I had learned in my attempt to disentangle the threads of the spell that had brought them here. We’d had so little time together, and while they’d displayed the same sexual attraction toward me as I had toward them, that didn’t mean that they were suddenly prepared for what I’d end up asking of them.
As the idea of their potential rejection processed in my consciousness, another shudder coursed through me, and I felt it echo all the way into the depths of the mountain. Through my mind’s eye, I could see my whole realm protesting what was happening to me, the snow and ice starting to come down from the peaks that had become my home. Gods be damned. I was better than this. I could not allow the spell to cripple me, to bring me to my knees, when nothing ever had.
That thought would’ve probably been a little more believable, even to me, if I hadn’t been on my knees already.
