Lawless

by Janeen Ippolito

  Pryenil shrugged. “Due to the open trade acts, the Scepter of Commerce is one of the safest and strongest places for the Lawless. The other Scepters are trying to oppose the war, but they face far more difficulties. They could use assistance and would be emboldened by your presence.”

  Kesia rolled her eyes. “Even the presence of a worthless experiment?”

  The cloaked woman sighed. “You are not worthless.”

  Zephryn winced. If anyone could understand Kesia’s plight, it would be Pryenil. If only the Lawless would trust enough for the half-dragon to remove her hood.

  The cloaked male cleared his throat. “All the Scepters came together to end the Scepter of Justice. It will take all Scepters to rebuild it.”

  Shance cut in, “If escape is the plan, you’ll need a fast ship. The Silver Streak is the fastest and most powerful airship in the fleet, if it weren’t in for repairs.”

  “I can fix it.” Kesia’s voice was quiet but sure.

  “Out of the question.” The male’s voice hardened. “We just discussed your departure. And your abilities are still unpredictable.”

  “I’m also the best mechanic you have right now. Could anyone else have fixed that engine in less than two days?”

  Shance nodded. “Virna said it would have taken her a day and a half.”

  “I did it in one hour.”

  Zephryn shook his head. “But you don’t know the ship specifications.”

  “I can learn them.” She placed her hands on the table. “I can fix The Silver Streak if you can get me into the shipyard as much as possible. I know it’s a risk, but if you want to use that ship, what other choice do you have?”

  Zephryn smirked, torn between the urge to argue further with Kesia and the urge to kiss her. Strange, considering Kesia’s emotions were still upset and twisted from the suspicions and surprises of that night.

  But she was very attractive when she was proving her point logically.

  “General Markem practically worships your work. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gives you a personal entry code.” Shance smiled wryly. “That way, you won’t have to break in as a beetle.”

  She swatted at him, her fingers lingering on his shoulder. “I did what I had to do. And beetles aren’t all that bad. I still had more brain power as a beetle than those scientists had as humans.”

  Shance gave her a mock-aggrieved look. “Next time, you should include me in your spy trip.”

  “Why? You can’t shift.”

  “And clayborer beetles can’t push elevator buttons.”

  “I sense a challenge.” She grinned at him, then glanced at Zephryn. Her smile faded, and she tensed.

  Fewmets. Irritation and concern clawed his heart.

  Her shoulders slumped, but she nodded.

  The cloaked male spoke, “Very well. You will work on the airship. But you must work quickly. Captain Windkeeper will pull you out at the first sign of trouble.”

  Zilpath’s fingers started moving, and Pryenil spoke, “Then it is settled. Shance and Kesia will return to High Command and maintain their charade until Kesia can repair The Silver Streak. Shance will communicate with the Lawless about finding a suitably trustworthy crew. Nightstalker will continue to work within the Lawless establishing connections in his status as prince and heir to the dragon throne. His presence could draw far more to serve the cause who were only sympathizers before. When The Silver Streak is ready—” Pryenil paused. “A week, Kesia?”

  She hesitated, pressing her lips together. Zephryn knew that look. The look of practicality warring with desperation. “Yes. Maybe less, if I can direct the rest of the repair crew. And if I don’t sleep much.”

  Shanced smiled. “Don’t strain yourself.”

  Kesia set her jaw, and her spine went rigid. Zephryn chuckled inwardly. He knew that look as well. “I’m a soldier, Captain Windkeeper. I’ve gone weeks on minimal sleep under far worse conditions. This is what is necessary.”

  “Yes, but it shouldn’t have to be.” The airship captain’s expression held the same softness always apparent when he looked at Kesia, but this time, it was touched with protectiveness.

  She raised her head, fixing him with a glare. “Sometimes, it just is.”

  Shance held her gaze. “You won’t do it alone, in any case. I know everything about The Silver Streak. Well, perhaps not as much as Virna, but more than enough for us to work together.”

  She turned to Pryenil. “We can do it. And Shance will ask General Markem for additional help and assign them to areas that don’t require my special skills.”

  Pryenil nodded, and when she spoke, a trace of resonance—respect—vibrated in her voice. “Very well. Once all is in order, we will organize an escape.”

  The cloaked male figure added, “Between now and then, we need to consider ways to break The Silver Streak out of the shipyard. Pryenil, can your resources help?”

  “Yes, we can count on them.”

  “Good. I believe mine will as well.” The male sighed, and his hands emerged from the sleeves of his robe, only to disappear under his hood. To pinch the bridge of his nose? Zephryn had seen humans use this gesture before. “I call for an official dismissal. Discuss other matters among yourselves. For myself, I would enjoy a rest. I understand why night meetings are necessary, but they are not pleasant for those of us with greater years.”

  Zilpath patted his shoulder and swiped at the air. He chuckled dryly. “I’ll die soon anyway? That is hardly comforting, Zilpath.”

  Zephryn’s lips curved. The shopkeeper was annoying, but sometimes her words hit just right.

  A hand touched his. Kesia’s. Her amber eyes were filled with trepidation, laced with anger and self-doubt.

  On the other side, Zephryn spied Zilpath ushering Shance over to a corner of the tiny room. Pryenil and the cloaked man were both gathering themselves in their robes and conferring quickly in pidsyn gestures on their way to the door.

 

  Curiously, his stomach seized and twisted, as though he’d eaten a kind of sick animal. Zephryn clenched his hand, trying to stabilize his feelings. One of the individuals in this conversation needed to maintain objectivity.

  She had to understand his reasons. He was protecting her.

  A rush of Kesia’s disappointment and grief overtook his musings.

  How could she think such a thing? Zephryn felt a flame tickle his tongue. He swallowed it, along with his anger.

 

 

  Anger blazed in her eyes.

 

 

  He sighed. What was the word humans used for regret?

  <…I forgive you.> Kesia swiped at her eyes. Tears? From the irritation she was projecting, she didn’t want attention drawn to them.

  Zephryn sent her a pulse of reassurance and compassion, then changed the subject for one of his own questions.

  She winced
.

 

  She shrugged.

  Still so little faith in herself. Zephryn placed his hand lightly over hers.

 

  He shook his head.

  She traced the top of his hand with a fingertip, a faint smile ghosting her face.

  He took her hands in his.

  Zephryn glowered at the captain, who was currently turning his back on Zilpath in an effort to ignore her sign language.

  Kesia gave a little laugh.

  He grumbled.

  She breathed out a cloud of smoke.

  A smile twitched her lips. He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering around her ear. Kesia looked up sharply, and he laughed.

 

 

  Kesia paused.

  Zephryn’s brow wrinkled.

  She grumbled.

  He flicked her nose with his finger, and her eyes flashed. He pulled her close until she was half in his lap. He didn’t care what anyone else thought.

 

 

  Her shoulders slumped.

 

 

  He traced his fingers over his heart, and then over hers.

  Kesia’s face flushed a darker pink that echoed the delicate undersides of her wings. Her gaze drifted to his lips.

  Zephryn breathed slowly. Suddenly, an intoxicating mixture of cloud lilies and iron filled the air. The same scent from the utility closet, that came only from Kesia. They should discuss it. Sometime. His fingers played with the ends of her hair.

  Kesia pulled away a little, her eyes glinting.

  He struggled to find the words in his mind. It was difficult to think with her fingers trailing up his chest, fingering the edge of his hood. <…would not be wise right now.>

  Each word was calm and collected, exactly as it should be. The same could not be said for his pulse, the prickles in his skin, and the heat building in his throat from where Kesia gently stroked it with the tip of her index finger.

  She smiled innocently. Only, he could sense the fire within her.

  Especially when she trailed her fingers along his scales and through his hair, her every touch a beckoning flame.

  She pursed her lips, serious for a moment. Then she smirked.

 

 

 

  Kesia shrugged.

 

 

  She grinned, breaking down the last of his resistance. She truly was a dangerous dragon.

  And she was his.

  Kesia tilted her head to the side.

  Zephryn pulled her entirely into his lap.

 

  Chapter 19

  Zilpath was a madwoman. Yes, she was wise and cunning, and could set any trader in their place with a few words of pidsyn, but that didn’t make her present words believable.

  She was tapping Shance’s shoulder again, her fingers jabbing his flesh like a knife. The old woman had learned pressure point manipulation in her earlier life and used it very unfairly.

  Meanwhile, Nightstalker and Kesia’s little interlude at the table continued. Their mouths were closed as they used dragon mind speak, but their body language gave away their emotions and perhaps explained what had happened in the closet earlier. Kesia’s expression turned from hope to desire.

  Before the two dragons started kissing passionately.

  His stomach twisted with sadness and disappointment. Well, that settled that.

  Zilpath’s dagger-like fingers found a key point between the muscles of his shoulder blades, sending a fire of agony through him. Shance grimaced and turned to face her. ~What did you mean?~

  ~About what? The prophecy? The clerics?~

  ~No, about Kesia. You were the one who indicated she was special. That the wind would dance with the dragons. What did that mean?~

  She shrugged. ~I assume you have danced with her, so that was truth. And I did see the two of you kissing. She was surprised, but there was definitely something there.~

  Shance coughed. ~Clearly not as much as you thought.~

  Zilpath glanced over at Zephryn and Kesia, and her eyes widened. Her shoulders shook in silent laughter. ~Well, well. Pryenil was correct after all. I should know better than to question her in matters of the heart. I suppose I owe her now.~

  Shance’s mouth dropped open. ~Were you betting on
my romantic prospects?~

  ~Only a little. And never with money. The holy scrit forbids it.~

  ~Enough.~ He made a cutting gesture from chest out to the right for emphasis. ~Is this why you were suggesting I be a monk a few moments ago? In case you were wrong about Kesia? I don’t need your pious judgements on my life, or the absurd punishments of the Four Corners.~

  Wasn’t his punishment happening in this room already?

  Zilpath smacked his shoulder, hard.

  ~You hold your tongue. The Daughters of Allandra and the Sons of Olosael are an honor to join, and there is no guarantee they will accept you. I had to petition three times to be a novitiate. Something about ‘language unbecoming.’~

  Imagine that. Shance managed to still his hands before they formed the sarcastic words. Instead, he made a questioning gesture. ~And why should I try?~

  ~I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve become so lonely that you fell in love with a dragonshifter you’ve only known for a few days? Religion aside, you’re getting stupid, Windkeeper.~

  ~Kesia is a woman, a soldier, and one of the strongest individuals I have ever known. She has kept appropriate barriers between us and spoken with intelligence and forethought.~ And that only made him love her more, even with the secrets she’d kept from him. Even with the lies.

  Even though she couldn’t return his love.

  Zilpath raised her eyebrows. For once, her hands were still. After a few moments, she began swiping through the air, her expression softer. ~You do love her, don’t you? I didn’t think it was possible. You actually care for her as a person, not as an escape.~

  ~She’s not an escape. She’s brought me closer to myself than anyone else. She’s clever, she sees through my flattery, and she’s fun to be around. She’s relaxing.~ Shance released a sigh. ~And I wouldn’t trade any of that, especially not for a religion I don’t believe in.~

  ~You believe enough to have emblems on your ship.~ She jabbed his chest. ~You believe in the gods when they might save you. And now you are lying to your commanders while protecting dragons. You have nothing to cling to except a war record of death. What’s stopping you from claiming a belief in something else?~