“They all smell like honeysuckle. Really.” Kaijin quirked his eyebrow.
Omari urged Percival up onto his shoulder, and then scratched him behind the ears. “Well, to the Dragons, they smell like that, at least.”
Kaijin sensed Aidan close behind him and he looked over his shoulder. “Aidan, I remember when we first met Zarya, you smelled honeysuckle, but Nester and I didn’t.”
Aidan raised his head to look at Kaijin.
That must mean Aidan is a—
“No, Kaijin,” Omari said, as though he had read his thoughts. “Aidan is not a Dragon. At least, not fully.”
Kaijin’s eyes widened slightly, remembering Aidan’s distinctive features. The scales, the size, the strength—the nubs on his back ... Wings? “Is that true, Aidan?”
Aidan pursed his lips and stared at the ground again. “Aidan is who he is.”
Kaijin looked between Aidan and Omari. “Who told you all this?”
Omari nodded toward the Dragon. “She did.”
“Kyniythyria told Aidan wonderful story of Aidan’s family,” Aidan added with a smile.
Kaijin gawked at the giant. “What? You—you mean the Dragon actually knows your family?”
“No, but—”
“It was but a long-winded fairytale of princesses, demons, and Dragon kingdoms that ended up putting Nester and me to sleep.” Omari rolled his eyes.
Kaijin smiled slightly at Aidan. “But still, if it really is true, it must be nice to know about your family.”
Aidan shrugged but said nothing.
Looking ahead, Kaijin realized they were not far from the top of the mountain. He watched Zarya and Sigmund and noted the way the two of them walked: swift, graceful, and elegant.
Kaijin snapped out of his silent musings, turned back to Omari, and asked, “So Zarya really has been hiding her identity all this time?”
Omari smirked wickedly. “So that was you possessing Miele instead of helping us fend off those slayers. And to answer your question, yes, Zarya seems to be so ashamed of her race that she would hide her identity. Or perhaps there is some other reason.”
Ashamed of herself. Kaijin frowned. He wondered what sort of darkness she masked.
“She is a woman, Kaijin,” Omari continued. “Women tend to do strange, unexplainable things. Despite that, one cannot deny that she is an exceptional healer.” Omari rubbed his temple and blinked a few times, looking amazed. “All that casting left me exhausted after the battle, but she somehow managed to strengthen my mind and body, and I have never felt better.”
Kaijin recalled some of his master’s lessons on the dangers of magic. Jarial’s warnings frightened him as a child, and Kaijin had sworn he’d never cast magic on himself like that until he had truly mastered the Art. “It was most likely a temporary fix,” Kaijin told Omari. “You should not become too dependent on that. A mage’s mind is fragile. You need rest.”
“Pah! I know that, you fool. Do not scold me like some confounded child! I am far more experienced than you will ever be.”
I hope so, for your sake. Rather than press the issue, Kaijin looked at the ground.
Omari cleared his throat. “The fact of the matter is, Zarya helped me when I required it. It is none of my business, nor do I care to know why she has decided to disguise herself for so long. My only concern is finishing this confounded test.”
“Test ...?” Kaijin eyed Omari. “Ah, your staff? If I recall, you said you were trying to get it enchanted by a Dragon, right?”
“Correct.” Omari nodded. “Unfortunately, however, the Dragon has done nothing for me. She refused to perform any enchantments until either you awoke or She was fully convinced that you were dead. Now that the former has occurred, She will waste more of my time wanting to interrogate you like She did us. She has been highly irritable and wary about slayers having moved into this area, which is also why we were brought here—the Celestials thought we were slayers.”
Kaijin frowned. “How terrible.” He cast another glance up the mountain. Nester, joined with Zarya and Sigmund, bowed before the Dragon, who regarded them with white, flashing eyes that crackled with lightning.
“The Celestials have not been so bad, since we convinced them otherwise. The Mistress allowed us to rest in Her cave and has offered us food. Mind you, it is not the most extravagant of accommodations, but only a fool—a dead fool—would outwardly complain to Her about it.”
The mention of food made Kaijin’s stomach rumble. He felt as though he hadn’t eaten in days. He rubbed his stomach, slight embarrassment overcoming him when Omari looked amused. “I could go for a meal or two right about now,” Kaijin said. He fantasized about his mother’s mouthwatering apple porridge.
Omari huffed. “I am certain She will provide something once She has finished interrogating you.”
“Right.” Kaijin sighed. “These slayers sound like they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
“Quite an understatement, Kaijin.”
Aidan growled. “Aidan does not like violence, but he will do what is necessary to deal with slayers.”
Aidan’s comment made Kaijin regard the giant with surprise. “This may end up bloody. Are you willing to ... kill, as well?”
Aidan swallowed. His face paled, and he gave a small, reluctant nod. “If Aidan must ... then yes. He feels very strongly about this. He does not know why.”
“I do not think it is strange for you to feel that way, Aidan,” Omari said. “Especially since most—if not all—Dragons regard slayers with such contempt.”
Aidan’s gaze shifted ahead. “Killing a Dragon is highest crime, the greatest dishonor one can bring to the goddess. One cannot continue to live with the blood of Her children on their hands.”
“Listen to yourself, speaking like some priest,” Omari said.
Aidan scowled at the elder mage. “Kyniythyria told Aidan!”
“I simply find it interesting—and amusing—that a pacifist like yourself has the potential to become as violent and threatening as a rabid beast.”
“There are very few things Aidan will not tolerate. Killing the guardians of this world for one’s personal gain is one of them.”
Omari smirked. “I rather like that sinister side of you, Aidan.”
Aidan bristled. “Aidan is not sinister. Slayers have no honor, and Aidan will not stand for it.”
Kaijin kept quiet, so Omari couldn’t switch to needling him.
The three of them walked the rest of the way in silence.
The fiery voice spoke in Kaijin’s mind. “Soon. Very soon.”
XVII
The air at the apex of the mountain was dry enough to make Kaijin’s face itch, and the back of his neck tickled as he felt the hairs stand on end. Still weak, he struggled to catch his breath in the thin air.
The stench of ozone had strengthened, making Kaijin feel queasy. He cupped his hand over his mouth and nose to shield the odor, and glanced upward.
Everything was dwarfed by the majestic beauty of a seemingly mythical creature come to life. The Dragon stood taller than fifteen men and half as wide, looming over him and his companions. Her body was streamlined, with powerful muscles visible in her upper torso and legs, though a small paunch indicated that she had fed well earlier that night.
Lightning darted angrily from her white, pupilless eyes and struck the dry brush around them, sending it up in flames. The firelight illuminated the area, revealing the dazzling hues of bronze, turquoise and emerald on her glistening scales. An aura of majesty emanated from her as she focused her intense gaze on them.
“My child! Where is my child?!” she bellowed, her voice echoing off the cliffs. Her long tail violently whipped about.
Nester still stood before her, pale and shaking, his excitement replaced by fear. Sigmund and Zarya knelt before Kyniythyria, their heads lowered reverently. His expression stubborn and defiant, Omari kept looking in Kyniythyria’s direction. Aidan stood beside Kaijin, arms crossed, regarding everyone
with annoyance in his silver eyes.
Kaijin unintentionally looked into Kyniythyria’s eyes and became caught up in her gaze. Her intense stare pierced him like ice. Kaijin tried to swallow the lump of fear rising in his throat, but his mouth was too dry, the air too thin. He licked his lips several times and considered speaking, but he thought better of it.
“Such incompetence! Such carelessness!” Kyniythyria’s voice shook the ground. Her whipping tail stuck the side of the cave. Small rocks fell from the roof.
“Great Mistress,” Sigmund said apologetically when Kyniythyria paused for breath. He kept his gaze lowered. “I take full responsibility for this tragedy. I will not rest until your child is found.”
Kyniythyria growled and dug deep grooves into the rocky ground with her talons. “How could you allow this to happen, guardian?” Her voice boomed like thunder. Lightning flashed in her eyes.
Both Kaijin and Omari fell to their knees. Kaijin couldn’t stop himself from trembling. I knew it! She’s going to kill us all! Glancing at Aidan, Kaijin noticed the giant still stood stone-faced, seemingly unfazed by Kyniythyria’s rage.
Miele fluttered around Kaijin’s head, projecting reassurance in his mind, easing his fear.
“We encountered slayers at the base of the mountain, Mistress.” Sigmund maintained his composure even in the face of the Dragon’s fury. “We dispatched them. However ...” He swallowed.
“However?” Kyniythyria repeated ominously, fixing her gaze on the guardian.
“I did not see any Dragon eggs in their possession. Moreover, Evan and Sephiya were among the slain.” Sigmund licked his lips bitterly.
Kyniythyria’s tail stopped its violent swishing. The electric sparks ebbed from her eyes, revealing a set of jade-colored orbs that were slitted like a cat’s. A deep growl rumbled in her throat as she digested Sigmund’s words. “Their deaths are most unfortunate, but they died doing their duty: duty to protect my child—a duty at which you all failed!” She snarled, addressing the group at large. “You will find my child—dead or alive—and bring justice to those responsible.”
“Honored Mistress ...” Zarya spoke meekly, keeping her head bowed. “I beseech Your Greatness for any wisdom that you may offer on where we should begin our search.”
Kyniythyria lifted her head slightly and sniffed the air. She snorted. “The scent of my egg ends at the base of the mountain. I cannot smell anything else but blood of lesser creatures. From which direction did the intruders come?”
Nester slowly raised his hand. It trembled more violently the higher it went.
She narrowed her eyes at the brownie. “Speak quickly.”
He gulped. “Th–th–th’ south, m–methinks, Your Majesty! I w–was scoutin’ th’ area when I saw them comin’ this way.”
“They were agents of the Legion, Mistress,” Sigmund added.
Kyniythyria’s head swiveled back to the guardian, her eyes becoming a maelstrom of electric sparks. “If that is true, then it is imperative that my child be found now.”
Omari lifted his gaze. “Now? Tonight? I beseech you, Mistress. I need to rest first. Can we not start our search in the morning?”
Kyniythyria reared her head high above the group, half-opening her mouth to reveal a set of dagger-like fangs. “Omari Batsuyou, if you do not find my child this instant, I will make sure you sleep and never awaken!”
Omari’s eyes widened and he promptly lowered his head. “Y ... Yes, Mistress....”
“The Legion ...” Zarya muttered, frowning. “One day, I would like to see them all eradicated.”
“That day can’t come soon enough, it seems,” Sigmund said grimly. “But for now, we must deal with this one step at a time. The Legion has a long history—centuries’ worth—of heinous crimes and misdeeds against the Dragons. They believe the Dragons are a threat to the world and want nothing more than to drive them to extinction. Most if not all slayers are, in some way, associated with The Legion. That is why we have been so vigilant in ensuring the safety of the Mistress and her home.”
“And you have done a deplorable job!” Kyniythyria roared. “My child is gone!”
Daring to look at the Dragon once more, Kaijin was astounded to witness something that made his own inner rage seem mild. Considering the circumstances, however, Kaijin understood the reason for her anger. He recalled a bestiary book his master had made him read as a child. Very few things made an Exodean Dragon quick to anger, as it was believed that they were in direct connection with the goddess Celestra. To provoke a Dragon was like mocking the goddess herself.
Miele conveyed reassurance and calmness, allowing Kaijin to push aside some of his panic. He recalled waking up in the dark, dank cave and hearing voices—voices that were not his companions.
Kyniythyria gazed down at Kaijin. “You look like you know something, boy.”
Kaijin glared and snapped, “I’m not a—!” He quickly stopped himself, realizing whom he was addressing. He clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. She’ll kill me, now.
His companions—even Sigmund—gawked at him.
Kyniythyria hissed and then addressed the others sharply, “The rest of you, leave. Do not return until justice is served and my child is returned. Make haste! Now!” She gave a small jerk of her head toward the exit. Without hesitation or another word, the group left Kaijin to his fate.
Kaijin stood, petrified by the Dragon’s gaze. So this is how I die. He swallowed. His hands shook. Ignis, spare me—
Miele shrieked nervously.
Kaijin shook his head. “No, Miele. Go someplace safe. She will crush you. Go now!”
Miele hesitated, then fluttered into the cave and hid herself in the shadows.
Kyniythyria snatched Kaijin up in her claws. She carried him inside the cave and tossed him to the ground. Kaijin grunted, dizzy, as he hit the cold, rocky floor.
The Dragon’s eyes flashed, illuminating the entire cave as though a bolt of lightning had struck inside. Kaijin shielded his eyes from the blinding light.
When he uncovered them, he noticed a dim light lingered, casting eerie shadows that traced along Kyniythyria’s scales. Her massive body nearly filled the entire mouth of the cave, blocking the only means of escape. She lowered her body to the ground and leaned her head closer to Kaijin, sniffing him.
Kaijin couldn’t stop shaking, and the Dragon’s cool breath against his face only made it worse. The sickeningly strong smell of ozone worsened his headache, and his stomach tied in knots. Trying to calm himself, he breathed deeply, attempting to get air—real air—into his lungs instead of her noxious scent. Slowly, he swallowed, willing himself to speak. “G—Great Mistress ...” He whimpered, unable to finish.
Kyniythyria leaned back and snorted another draft of ozone in his face. “You are different from the others. Yes, very different.”
Kaijin coughed. His head pounded. Her words sounded distant.
“Look at me, boy!” she snapped.
Kaijin flinched. Anger replaced the queasiness.
Kyniythyria seemed to notice the change; she looked down her nose at him, her eyes narrowing and flickering with electricity. “You have something to say? Then say it quickly before I destroy you as a damnable slayer.”
Kaijin bit his tongue, holding back his anger. He gathered his words carefully. “No, Mistress, I am not a slayer. I swear it.”
Kyniythyria flicked her long thin tongue at his face and gave him a mild static shock on his cheek. “No, of course you’re not. Tell me who and what you are, then.”
Kaijin winced in pain from the shock. “My name ... is Kaijin. Kaijin Sora, Great Mistress.”
“Yes, I know.”
Kaijin blinked. Is she toying with me? What does she wish to know? “I, uh ... I am a mage, Great Mistress.”
“I have known many mages in my lifetime. You have yet to answer my second question.What are you?”
What does she want me to say? “I am a human.”
“Do not mock my in
telligence.” She glowered at him.
Kaijin chewed on his bottom lip. His mind felt muddled. What in the hells does she want from me?!
Kyniythyria snarled. The annoyance returned to her voice. “Answer me, boy!”
Kaijin’s anger took over again, and he met the Dragon’s gaze. “What am I? What am I? I am not a boy. I am a man!”
The Dragon didn’t eat him or slash him to death for his outburst. Instead, she plucked him up off the ground by the back of his robe.
Kaijin’s stomach sank as he was hauled up higher and higher. His legs dangled helplessly in the empty air. Gods, what have I done to deserve this?
She scrutinized him. “You may not be a boy, but you are a very foolish man. One that needs to be humbled. Interesting. I’ve had this same conversation with Omari—that pompous fool. I put him in his place quickly, and he’s behaving now.”
Kaijin gulped, and the heat of the charm surged against the skin of his chest, echoing his pounding heart.
Kyniythyria meticulously hooked the cord with the tip of a talon and plucked the charm from beneath his robes. For a moment she gazed at the charm’s mesmerizing play of swirling flames. Her eyes moved from the charm to Kaijin and back to the charm again. “Why are you wearing a cleric’s holy symbol?”
Kaijin paused, confused by the unexpected change in subject. He swallowed several times as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I’ve ... I’ve had it since I was a boy, Great Mistress. I encountered a drunken priest one night who was denouncing the gods, and he threw away this necklace.”
“I see.” Kyniythyria raised her nose at him. “I sense an extraplanar presence in you. You are obviously no Ignan priest, and yet this symbol burns with life.” She paused.
Since the Dragon showed no inclination to either drop or eat him, Kaijin’s fear eased into curiosity. “I don’t understand, Great Mistress. Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing is wrong. Everything is just right.” She arched her neck and stared at him. “I know what you are now. You are a Firebrand.”
Kaijin blinked. “Excuse me, Great Mistress?”
Enflamed (Book 2) Page 17
