Dragon Green

by Macy Babineaux

  Tears welled back up in her eyes and began to slide down her cheeks. He wasn’t gone after all. He was right here with her. But was this a blessing or just another cruel joke? If she could only experience what he did from a world away, that was a pale substitute for being there with him, wasn’t it?

  “Who cares?” she said out loud to herself. For the moment she would just appreciate the feel of being inside his mind and body, even if it did still feel like a violation of his privacy.

  He was getting close to the island now, and she could feel the warm, humming metal gripped in his claws. The trident. Up ahead was a rocky cove of twisted black rock. The waves splashed against them, sending up massive plumes of white foam.

  Vander flew right at the volcanic formation, but at the last second he turned upwards. Brynn’s eyes were filled with the cloudless blue sky. Her apartment seemed far away now, the droning of the TV far in the distance.

  Just as sharply as he had turned upwards, she felt him pivot his entire body, laying his wings flat behind him. Now all she could see was the water below as he dove.

  She flinched as he hit the surface with a crash, a cloud of bubbles and churning water filling her view. When it cleared, they were under water, headed for a gap in the craggy rock.

  He’s too big, she thought, her stomach clenching. He’ll never make it.

  But then she felt one of the strangest sensations of her life. He began to shift, his wings folding against his body and being absorbed. The scales across his body became the armor he wore. His claws became hands, his tail and neck shrinking.

  Oh God, she thought, feeling her knees buckle. She lowered herself to sit on the floor. Somewhere in the distance she felt the wine glass slip out of her hand and fall to the carpet.

  She felt nauseous now from the weirdness of it all. Collapsing into human form was so alien, like sloughing off most of your body and being left with a small remnant of your former self. Was that how he felt about it?

  No, actually. She was there inside his mind, and to him it felt as normal as taking off a pair of socks might feel to her. He was still swimming forward, the trident clutched in his left hand. Though now he was small enough to swim through the gap in the rock.

  She could feel the air in his lungs burning as he swam, but it didn’t seem to bother him any more than transforming from a dragon into a man. As she was wondering how long he could hold his breath, he shot up to the surface.

  As he emerged, she could see he was in some kind of underwater cave, but with enough air trapped here to breathe comfortably. It was dark, but the trident seemed to give off a shimmering, otherworldly light.

  Vander waded out of the water and walked deeper into the cave. There, in a hollow, he laid the trident down. A good hiding place, she thought. The cave itself was hard to get to, and even if someone made it this far, they wouldn’t see the spear tucked down in the pocket of rock unless they walked right up to it.

  Vander looked down at the trident one last time before turning to leave the cave. Then the images of his world began to fade. The feel of him began to slip away from her.

  “No,” she said out loud. “Wait.”

  And she was shocked as Vander stopped in his tracks. Some part of him had heard her. He stood there, listening intently, and she could sense him trying to convince himself that what he had heard wasn’t just the lap of the water against rock.

  She opened her mouth to say something else, to try to talk to him, but the link was fading fast. He was gone, and she was all alone again, sitting on the beige carpet of her living room.

  God, did that really happen? Brynn thought. She would have attributed it to the wine. But every sensation was so vivid, the feeling of his presence so absolute, there was no way she could doubt she had really been there with him.

  “Hello?” she said out loud. Now she was trying to talk to the thing that had melded with her, the fabricant. It had talked to her before, before she had melded with it. Maybe it could still speak. She waited, but didn’t hear or sense anything.

  Had she done something to trigger the link between her and Vander? Or was it just a coincidence? She had been trained as a scientist, but she was starting to believe that very little that was happening to her now was coincidental.

  She picked up the glass of wine, unharmed in the fall. Though there was now a quarter-sized wine-colored spot on her beige carpet. No way that’s coming out, she thought.

  Brynn climbed shakily to her feet, still feeling Vander in her mind like a faded photograph. She’d been there, with him, flying above the water, swimming in the cavern. She had felt his strength, his renewed sense of purpose, and even though he’d been gone less than a day, she missed him more than ever.

  She staggered to the kitchen to refill her glass. She needed another drink now worse than ever.

  11

  VANDER

  After stashing the spear in the underwater cavern, Vander returned home. He felt as if he had been gone for a long, long time, though it had only been a single day. So much had happened.

  He had traveled to another world, retrieved the trident, and met a woman he would never have thought he might fall in love with. And yet he had. He had also realized something about himself, and now he was ashamed of his complacency.

  The island paradise he ruled so casually and the wider world itself was in jeopardy. He could no longer afford to swim around in the surf and lie about in the sand like an idle child.

  Upon returning, he called upon Hywin to convene the royal guard. There would be drills. There would be battle exercises. He would personally make sure the stores of food and weapons were plentiful and readied.

  Hywin asked him questions, but he answered them with orders instead. He didn’t have time to dwell on what had passed. And keeping busy made him less likely to think of the woman he had left behind.

  Still, two days after his return, just as promised, the father and daughter Nightshadow returned.

  Vander was overseeing the construction of reinforced trenches lined with great thickets of bamboo spears around the palace.

  “You look as though you are preparing for war.”

  Vander turned to see Sorian and Nevra standing next to each other on the white sand. The father’s white hair lifted in the ocean breeze. He stood with his arms crossed across the black armor on his chest, a thick black cape flapping behind him.

  His daughter stood a step behind him, looking up at Vander from beneath long, dark lashes. Her armor clung to her lithe body, and that curious smile played upon her black lips.

  “You never know what threats may come,” Vander said. “Or when. One should always be prepared.”

  “True enough,” said Sorian. “Though you seem to be readying for something more specific than just a vague sense of readiness. Your dragon guards are flying double the patrols from only three days ago. Should I be worried?”

  Vander looked into the black king’s eyes, cold and flat. He held the stare for a few moments before smiling. “Why would you need to?” he finally asked. “We are allies, are we not? And soon to be family.”

  Sorian’s lips curled into a smile, though the look did not suit him. He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter. “That’s right, isn’t it? Family.” He said the word as if trying it on for the first time. He turned his eyes back to Vander. “Are you ready to wed?”

  “Of course,” he said. Though he wasn’t quite sure. Vander looked at Nevra, unsure of what a life together with her would be like. The owls had arranged his union. He would put his trust in them. As if summoned by the thought, Hywin walked towards them from up the beach.

  “Do you have any objection to the union being done as soon as possible?” Sorian asked.

  Why so quickly? Vander wondered. Was he so ready to be shed of his daughter? “I have no—” he began.

  “This afternoon?” Sorian said.

  Vander let out a little laugh. “Of course.” Hywin stepped up by his side, looking up at him with her large, curious
eyes.

  “Your owl can perform the ceremony, can she not?” Sorian said, nodding at Hywin.

  “I would be honored,” Hywin said. “What date did your highness have in—”

  “Today,” Sorian said. “As soon as you are ready.”

  Hywin looked between Sorian and Vander. He shrugged down at her. “Let us meet on the veranda in one hour,” Vander said. He looked at Nevra, her hands clasped behind her back, staring at him mischievously, as if he were a thing to be played with. He cleared his throat. “Then we shall be wed.”

  They stood on the veranda, the salty breeze blowing in from the sea, the sun shining down upon them.

  Vander stood next to Nevra, and Hywin stood before them both, holding the sacred sash. Sorian stood behind them, along with a small gathering of Vander’s trusted guards.

  Hywin reached out and took Vander's hand, bringing it closer to Nevra’s. The Nightshadow princess’s skin was cool as he touched it. He looked at her, the hint of the smile on her lips as her dark eyes looked up at him playfully.

  Hywin began to chant the ancient words of binding. She wrapped the sash around their clasped hands, the letters sewn into the cloth beginning to glow a bright white.

  The chanting grew louder, and Vander could feel the something flowing through his palm, a deep energy within him mingling with Nevra’s. He had seen the ritual performed a dozen times, but had never realized what it felt like.

  A wave of sadness coursed through him as he thought of Brynn. He wished that she were here standing beside him, her energy intertwining with his. In a way he thought that might have already happened.

  When he returned from the north with the spear, after hiding it in the cave, he thought he had heard her voice. No, she had said. Wait. Had that been wishful thinking? The remnant of her memory? Or had she possibly called to him from across the space between their worlds? That was what it had felt like. He had not just heard her in his mind, but felt her very presence, her urgency and desperation at being separated from him. Or had he merely imagined it?

  Either way, it mattered not. The runes upon the cloth began to fade. The ritual was complete.

  He was now wed to Nevra. She would take his name, bear his children, and sit by his side as queen.

  “You may now—” Hywin began, but Nevra did not wait for her to finish.

  She let go of his hand and reached up to cup his jaws in both her hands, pulling his face down to hers. He was taken aback by her speed and strength, but did not resist.

  Her cool black lips met his own and her tongue pushed its way into his mouth, lashing about inside his own like an angry dragon’s tail.

  The last kiss before this one had been with Brynn, and the two experiences could not have been more different. That kiss had been gentle, full of love and longing. This was more like being attacked.

  Nevra pulled back with a smack of her lips and laughed. Then she pulled him into a hug and put her lips next to his ear.

  “Well wed, husband,” she whispered. “I look forward to more in our honeymoon chambers tonight.” Then she bit the lobe of his ear. He winced at the pain, and as she pulled back to smile at him, he thought he saw blood on the tips of her teeth. He reached up and felt the sore indentation she had left on his injured ear.

  Gods, was she mad? He had been curious to know what she would be like in the bedchamber, but now he wondered if he should have a guard or two present. He would be fearful of letting her near his softer parts with those teeth.

  But he tried to appear relaxed and confident. He chuckled, though the laughter did not sound sincere even to his own ears. “Indeed, my new wife,” he said. “I look forward to it.”

  Hywin had hurriedly arranged a celebration dinner out on the beach. There was no time to bury a boar in ashes for a long roast. That normally took a full day. But Vander wondered if he might not want such a delay. The prospect of consummating their marriage now seemed frightening.

  Sorian walked up to him and took him in his arms, hugging him tightly. Vander was surprised at the show of affection. He wondered if perhaps the elder Nightshadow would take a bite of him as well. But he simply pulled back and gripped him by the shoulders with steely hands, a grim smile on his lips.

  “You and my daughter are now bound as one,” he said. “And so too are our great clans. Today is truly a cause for celebration.”

  Vander wondered about that. He had done his duty, fulfilling his obligation. But it didn’t feel like a true union. Nor did it feel like cause for celebration. He thought of Earth. He thought of Brynn. And he thought of the dark omen of the oracle with her ruined eyes.

  “Truly,” he said, and forced himself to smile.

  That night they dined under the flickering light of bamboo torches thrust in the sand. Tables and chairs were brought out onto the beach. The servants brought an endless stream of wine and food.

  They feasted upon spiced fish steamed in coconut leaves, roasted bananas, and curried nuts. The food was plentiful and smelled delicious, but Vander ate little. He had too much on his mind.

  Nevra sat beside him, and she ate almost nothing as well, though she did not hold back on the wine, downing cup after cup. Her father sat a few chairs away, nibbling at his food. He wondered how they kept their strength up, as thin as they both were.

  He also wondered what sort of food they ate down in the southern swamps, but didn’t care enough to ask. A small band of musicians had been brought out to play, the sounds of their steel drums echoing in the night air. Hywin had done a fine job to arrange everything on such short notice, and what was a wedding feast without music?

  But Vander did not feel very much like celebrating. He drank a little wine himself, but mostly sat in silence as the assembly dined, talked, and laughed.

  Late into the evening, Nevra leaned over, putting her lips close to his ear. He flinched a little, worried she might decide to take another bite. Instead, she just whispered huskily.

  “Shall we make this official?” she asked him, reaching under the table to squeeze his inner thigh. “Would you show me your bedchamber, my king?”

  Her breath was hot in his ear, smelling of wine and dark cinnamon. He found himself stiffening against his will. Perhaps he could close his eyes during the act, think of Brynn. The thought disheartened him. He did not want to lie with Nevra, but she was his wife now.

  Vander had hoped to leave discreetly, perhaps excusing himself and meeting up with her later. But Nevra stood up, grinning viciously, her words slurring as she made the announcement loud and clear over the music.

  “Sorry to retire early,” she nearly yelled. “But my new husband wishes to take me up to the palace and fuck me.” She grinned at her father, whose face seemed to drain of what little color was left, his mouth set in a hard line.

  Vander looked at Hywin, who was blushing from Nevra’s crassness. But everyone else at the table raised their cups in cheers and laughter.

  Nevra grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him to his feet. He smiled sheepishly and gave a little bow to the crowd before they set off together up the beach.

  “Was that necessary?” he muttered once they were clear of the feast.

  “No,” she said, laughing. “But it was fun. Did you see the look on my father’s face?”

  “He was not pleased.”

  “Fuck him,” Nevra said. “He has never been pleased with anything I say or do. I might as well act and speak as I wish.”

  His time with Brynn had made him appreciate a strong woman. But not like this. Nevra was chaotic, rebellious, and stubborn for its own sake.

  She laughed again, a dark, gleeful giggle, and ran ahead of him to the bamboo steps of the green clan’s palace. He followed her inside, where they wound their way up the spiraling steps to Vander’s chambers.

  The servants and guards had cleared the halls on the top floor, and they were alone as they entered. Vander walked into the room and heard the door slam shut behind him.

  As he turned to face her, she leapt
at him like a feral beast, curling her fingers under the armor at his neck, pulling it free from his body.

  “Slowly,” he said. “We have the rest of our lives.” Just saying that made the realization sink in. But it had no effect on Nevra. She jerked his armor down around his shoulders, pulling it to his waist.

  She looked up at his bare chest, then to his eyes and licked her lips. “And yet who knows how long those lives will be?” she asked.

  What did she mean by that? Was it a threat?

  But he was too stunned to think much upon it as she continued to tug his armor down his legs, freeing his semi-stiffness into the night air.

  The shutters along the walls were open so that the night breeze blew into the room. He felt the ocean air swirl around his naked body and as he looked down into Nevra’s hungry eyes, he felt himself harden all the way.

  “Shall we close the shutters?” he asked. Sounds of their love-making, or whatever it was Nevra intended to do, might carry across the beach to the wedding party.

  She laughed. “Let them hear what they will,” she said. “Do you not wish to see how loudly you can make me scream?”

  He looked down at the tops of her creamy breasts. They were not as large as some, but they were pleasing to look upon all the same. They showed from the top of her armor, even though she was still fully-clothed, crouched before him on the floor.

  Vander stepped out of the rumpled pile of his armor and kicked it aside, standing before her fully naked and fully erect. He reached down for her, intending to pull her up and kiss her, to return the favor of shedding her black armor.

  But she moved back out of reach as he tried, standing up and giggling. From several paces away, she looked him up and down, her eyes growing wide with mock amazement.

  “You are quite the specimen King Tanglevine,” she said. “And now I have you all to myself. What a lucky girl I am.”

  So she likes games, he thought. He was not used to this kind of play. Consorts did as they were told, serving his every wish. He was not accustomed to having to chase women around his bedchambers. And he did not much feel like it.