Aidan peered inside the bag to examine the egg. Its smooth, speckled surface twitched. The movement was too slight for most beings’ eyes to notice, but he felt it, too.
He waved to his companions and smiled. “Aidan thinks egg may hatch very soon!”
The group stared, evidently stunned, as he approached.
“We must hurry, then,” Zarya said.
* * *
The sun began setting by the time Kaijin and the others reached the mountain’s peak. Kyniythyria poked her head out of her cave and greeted them. She hissed at the group, and then her cat-like eyes moved to Aidan. “Czylenemaraad! Oh! My child is safe!” She let out a low growl and eyed the rest of the group. “Who is that?”
Sigmund shoved Carver. “She means you, boy.”
Carver gulped and cowered at the Dragon. “Ah ... M–M–My n–name is Carver.”
Aidan dropped to one knee, bowed his head, and carefully took the egg out of the bag, cradling it in his hands. He and Kyniythyria started speaking in a series of what sounded like growls and snarls to Kaijin.
Beside Kaijin, Nester was the first to mirror Aidan’s actions and kneel. Everyone else followed suit until Kaijin was the last one left standing.
Miele landed on his shoulder and huddled her furry body against his neck. Kaijin bowed his head slightly, and glanced sidelong at Omari, who appeared to be in deep meditation. From the set of his shoulders, Omari had to be exhausted, and Kaijin could only assume that Zarya’s spell was finally beginning to wear off. Percival nestled against Omari, his beady eyes drawn to the Dragon.
Kaijin quietly called to Zarya, trying to get her attention, but she remained focused on the conversation, so instead, he lightly nudged Nester. “Do you know what Aidan and the Mistress are saying?”
Nester kept a cautious eye on the two Dragonkin, and whispered, “Ah, not really, mate. But methinks she’s ’appy to ’ave ’er child back, at least. Whether or not she’s gonna kill us now? I’ve no soddin’ idea.”
Kaijin blinked. “What? But why would she kill us? We saved her child like she told us to.”
“Aye, but ... well, Dragons can be funny about that kinda stuff sometimes, y’know? She might think we took too long or somethin’.”
“I sincerely hope not.”
“Shh!” Zarya hushed, eyeing the two of them sternly.
Kyniythyria took the egg from Aidan and disappeared into the cave. Afterwards, Aidan stood, beamed at the others, and followed.
Kaijin stood and called, “Aidan, wait—” But it was too late.
“Follow me.” Sigmund beckoned everyone who remained.
They followed the guardian inside to find Kyniythyria curled up in her nest, cradling the egg in her claws. Her tail was curled close to her body, and her wings were draped about her like a cloak. Aidan sat cross-legged before her, reverently staring at the egg as if his mere gaze alone would make it hatch.
Miele flew from Kaijin’s shoulder and found a comfortable spot in a small shadowy alcove above. The rest of his companions gathered before the two Dragonkin and stood in silence.
The menacing cast to Kyniythyria’s eyes had vanished; she seemed much more soft and generous—motherly. “Friends, I must thank you for rescuing my child. May the goddess bless you for your courageous effort.”
Sigmund and Zarya promptly bowed their heads and each fell to one knee. Nester, Omari, and Carver followed suit. Kaijin shifted his gaze left and right, watching his companions, then—slowly—also knelt.
“We are truly honored to have been given this opportunity to do this for you, Great Mistress,” Sigmund said. “Only a few of Gaston’s men managed to escape, but I do not think they will cause any more trouble in this area for now. Justice has been served upon Gaston, the head of that small band of Legionnaires.”
Sigmund grabbed Carver by the back of his tunic and shoved him forward. “Great Mistress, we found Carver with Aidan. He was apparently in the service of Gaston for a short period of time.”
“Very short,” Carver muttered, giving Sigmund a dirty look.
Kyniythyria’s gaze hardened. Her muscles tensed slightly, and she drew the egg against her body. “Why have you brought him here?”
“Because, Great Mistress,” Sigmund said respectfully, “he has seen the error of his ways and has chosen to cease his journey upon the evil path he had begun to follow. I would like your permission for him to accompany me so that I may train him to become a guardian.”
Kyniythyria’s claws loosened from the egg and her body relaxed. “A guardian? Really, now?”
Carver blinked, and he looked askance at the two of them.
Zarya furrowed her brow. “I thought only Celestials could be guardians.”
“Technically, yes,” Sigmund replied, “but that does not mean Carver can’t help by other means. He can be a liaison for us, searching for slayers in places we may be unable to go. No one would suspect someone like Carver to be in the service of the Celestials and Dragons.”
Nester tapped his chin. “Oh, I see. ’E can act as a spy for you folks, aye?”
Sigmund cleared his throat. “Yes, something like that.”
“Wait, don’t I have a say in anything?” Carver blurted. When all gazes turned on him, he cringed. “... Uh, never mind.”
Kyniythyria let out a soft hiss at Carver, and then acknowledged Sigmund. “I think it is an acceptable idea. But be warned, guardian. His failure will mean your failure.”
Sigmund bowed his head. “Of course, Great Mistress. Thank you.” He yanked Carver back to him. “We will begin tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Omari repeated. “Yes, tomorrow sounds good right about now.” He yawned and scooted away from the group. He sat with his back against the wall and closed his eyes. Percival curled up in his lap and fell asleep.
“Not a bad idea, mate,” Nester said, stretching. “I could go for a few winks.” He, too, found a secluded spot and lay down.
Sigmund exchanged glances with Zarya, then the priestess left to find her own place to sleep. “Great Mistress, is that all for tonight, then?” Sigmund inquired of Kyniythyria.
Kyniythyria nodded. “Yes, please rest. We will speak more in the morning.”
Watching everyone get comfortable made Kaijn’s eyelids grow heavy. He found an unoccupied spot in the cave, sprawled on his back, and immediately fell asleep.
* * *
Aidan was exhausted, and yet, he had trouble sleeping. Even after the rest of his companions had retired for the night, he never left Kyniythyria’s side.
Her egg cradled in her arms, she allowed him to sleep beside her—a privilege that he certainly did not decline. He lay with his back against her smooth, scaly belly and closed his eyes. He reveled in her ozone scent, less strong as it had been when she was enraged. Beneath that sharp odor, he smelled something more homely—familiar yet undiscernable.
He turned his head, his cheek pressing against her scales, and stared at the egg. He was certain he had detected movement before, and yet it still had not hatched. He couldn’t sleep, not remembering the way Gaston’s corpse had stared at him.
“What ails you, Aidan?” Her low rumble vibrated against his cheek, startling him. He looked up and saw she had half-opened one eye.
He settled back into her side, not wanting to disturb her. “Nothing, Mistress,” he replied softly in Draconic. “I am just having trouble sleeping.”
“It was you who killed Gaston, wasn’t it?”
Aidan paused, and then looked at her. “How did you know?”
Her body shook as she let out a soft chuckle. “I can smell his blood on you.”
“Did you know him?”
“Not personally. Though I knew one of the victims he’d slain. He carried Gaston’s same bloody scent.”
Aidan sighed and lowered his head. “I hate killing, Mistress.”
Kyniythyria opened her other eye. “So do I. So do most Dragons who serve the goddess, unlike many misconceptions. But your actions are for
given.”
Aidan swallowed. Memories flooded his mind again. “I ... I have killed once before and swore I would never do it again.”
“Sometimes death must occur in order for life to continue. Who was this unfortunate soul?”
She would understand what the rest of his companions would not have. “He was a slayer. He and his small army killed many of my brethren, as well as the civilians we were helping....” He lowered his gaze, horror preventing him from saying more.
Kyniythyria half-lowered her eyelids. “The goddess forgives you.”
Aidan looked at her, surprised. Is it truly that easy for Her to forgive? He pursed his lips. Maybe I am just tired.
He nestled more comfortably against her. He sighed, closed his eyes, and began drifting into a troubled sleep.
Only minutes later, a sharp sound interrupted his dream—a forceful crack. Aidan’s eyes shot open, and he saw Kyniythyria fully awake and staring intently at her egg, which bore a tiny crack near the top. Aidan sprang up and whispered, “Is it time?!”
Kyniythyria gave a solemn nod. She gently ran her claws along the first cracks, which slowly lengthened.
Aidan huddled near the egg. He looked to his companions, tempted to wake them.
“No, Aidan, let them sleep. This is a moment worthy for kin to witness.”
Aidan beamed at her. ‘Kin’—she accepts me as family?
More cracks appeared, and the egg looked ready to break. Clear liquid oozed from the cracks. Kyniythyria didn’t help her baby along, which puzzled Aidan.
Kyniythyria glanced at Aidan, then back to the egg. “You have not witnessed a hatching before, have you?”
“No, Mistress,” Aidan shook his head, still gazing at the egg. Pieces of speckled eggshell broke and littered the ground.
He leaned closer and glimpsed the baby’s yellow-green scales. There was movement inside, and the baby suddenly broke free.
Aidan’s body went warm with delight. What a beautiful, strong child it is. He couldn’t stop grinning, and his eyes burned from joyful tears that streamed down his face. He rubbed the tears away, and he gazed at the baby Dragon, which was as small as a human toddler.
Its eyes still closed, it let out soft chirps.
“It chirps like ... a bird?” Aidan furrowed his brow.
Chuckling, Kyniythyria pulled her child closer. She flicked her tongue over its slick back, and the baby ceased its small cries. “Of course,” she said. “It is a temporary defensive mechanism since he is so tiny. After about a week, however, he will get a little bigger, and his vocal cords will begin to develop.”
“I see ...” Aidan glanced around the cave. His companions were still fast asleep. “So it is a boy, then? You knew all this time?” He tilted his head slightly, attempting to get a peek at the baby’s underside.
Kyniythyria wrapped her claws around her child, cutting off Aidan’s view. “Indeed. He tastes and smells like a male,” she said simply.
Aidan pulled back and decided not to continue the conversation. The day’s events had caught up with him. He tried to remain awake, but his eyes grew heavy, and he nodded off briefly.
Jerking himself awake, he lay back against her belly. As soon as the back of his head touched her scales, he fell asleep.
XXIII
“’E looks just like ’is mum, ’e does!”
Kaijin awoke the following morning to the sound of an excited Nester. He sat up slowly and rubbed his lower back, feeling old and new cramps and agitating the stiffness in his bones from from the days of being comatose. Ugh, that’s the last time I sleep on a cave floor.
His comrades clustered around Kyniythyria. He heard a chirp. Birds? In a cave? Curious, Kaijin craned his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the center of the group. He saw movement faint enough that he thought it was his imagination at first, until he saw Zarya kneel down.
A bright smile stretched across the priestess’s face. “He is absolutely adorable, Mistress! Truly a beautiful creature blessed by the goddess.”
Kaijin raised an eyebrow then made his way over to join them. What he beheld made his jaw drop. Another Dragon—a baby Dragon. Its big, green eyes were open wide, swiveling around, taking in its surroundings. It chirped and crawled over to Zarya.
“I think ’e likes you already, beautiful!” Nester laughed.
Zarya cradled the wyrmling in her arms, though it seemed to prefer walking around on its own, by the way it attempted to squirm away. “It is such an honor to hold such a precious creature. How could anyone want to bring harm to him?”
Kyniythyria snorted. “It happens. And that is why we must remain ever vigilant.”
“So, did you pick out a name for ’im yet, Your Majesty?” Nester asked eagerly.
Kyniythyria chuckled. “I’d decided on his name long before he hatched. His name is Czylenemaraad.”
Nester blinked. “Uh ... you’re excused?”
Aidan rumbled with laughter. “That is his name, Nester.”
“’Ow in th’ soddin’ ’ells do you even say that?” Nester scratched his head.
“You should know by now that Draconic is the world’s most mind-boggling language, Nester,” Omari said. He stood a small distance away from the rest of the group, feeding Percival some berries from his rations pouch.
“Actually, the Celestial language is,” Kyniythyria interjected, somewhat amused. “But who’s counting?” Her tail swished, and her eyelids lowered.
Nester looked at Zarya. “So all that strange mumblin’ you do in your prayers is just you talkin’ in your secret language?”
Zarya smiled. “It is not a ‘secret language’. It is a very old language.”
The baby crawled to Sigmund and rubbed its cheek against him, much like a cat marking its territory. Sigmund smiled faintly at the wyrmling and rubbed under its chin but did nothing more.
“’E seems to like you, too,” Nester said, grinning at the guardian.
Sigmund bristled. “Yes, well. I have seen many births. The Mistress and Her child are very dear to me, but I cannot develop an attachment. I must go where and when my duty calls.”
“Your ‘duty’ is with me until I say otherwise, Sigmund,” Kyniythyria said sharply, glowering at him.
Sigmund bowed his head. “But of course, Great Mistress.”
“Now then, why don’t you take Carver outside and start him on his training, hmm?”
Carver looked up from the baby. Terror lingered in his eyes, but he said nothing.
“Yes, right away, Great Mistress.” Sigmund bent at his waist, giving a more formal bow, and then grabbed Carver’s arm and tugged him outside the cave.
Kyniythyria nudged her child back into the nest, where it sprawled out on its belly and fell asleep.
“Now, then.” Kyniythyria turned to the rest of the group, “I believe there are a few matters that need to be addressed before I send you all on your way, yes?”
Omari bolted upright. “Indeed, Great Mistress,” he said quickly. He retrieved his staff and presented it to her. “I have traveled all the way from the Citadel in hopes of fulfilling the requirements of my test by having you enchant my staff. If you would do me this honor, Great Mistress ...”
“Mmm. Of course.” Her eyes flickered in a dazzling array of electric sparks as she gazed at him. Bolts of lighting shot from her eyes and into the tip of the staff.
Omari jumped back, still holding fast to his staff as it crackled with intense energy. The force sent Percival flying off Omari’s shoulder and slamming into the cave wall. Percival yelped in pain, and Omari echoed him. The group drew back, leaving Omari and Kyniythyria together in the center.
Zarya took a step forward, about to help Omari, but Aidan stuck out his massive forearm, barring her from continuing. She gave the giant a pleading look, but when he ignored it, she reluctantly stepped back.
Omari gritted his teeth and closed his eyes; Percival’s pain had obviously affected him. Streaks of lightning encompassed Omari, before disappeari
ng within him. The tip of his staff crackled with energy.
Kyniythyria reared and then dismissed the magic. Her eyes returned to normal, and her body relaxed.
“It is done,” she said sharply.
Kaijin, Nester, Zarya, and Aidan gawked at Omari.
Omari fixated on the dancing bolts of lightning, and it seemed as if his eyes now possessed a similar energy within them. Even Percival miraculously revived and rushed to Omari’s side as if nothing happened, seemingly drawn to the staff’s aura.
Omari tore his gaze away from the glowing staff. “My thanks, Mistress.”
Nester’s eyes had gone wider than wide. “If I ain’t seen th’ most craziest fiddlin’ before ...”
“That was amazing,” Kaijin agreed. Then he asked Omari, “Are you all right? How do you feel?”
Omari shifted his gaze to Kaijin, and grinned. “‘All right’? I am more than just ‘all right’. I am rejuvenated! This is the greatest feeling I have ever felt.”
“Well, what does it feel like, mate?” Nester asked.
Omari shook his head slowly. “I ... I cannot explain it. The power of the Dragons, perhaps?”
“Hardly,” Kyniythyria said flatly. “The enchantment I placed on your staff binds to you mentally, and enhances your innate abilities.”
“Permanently?” Kaijin gaped.
Kyniythyria laughed. “Of course not, Kaijin. The enchantment will last only long enough for Omari to show his teachers proof of the completion of his test. By the way, Omari, I attached a message for Na’val on the enchantment.”
Omari blinked. “A message? Where? How do I deliver it to him?”
“It will be delivered as soon as he sees you.”
“You sound like you’ve done this many times, Great Mistress,” Kaijin said.
“So far, in my lifespan, Omari has been the fourth mage.” She glanced at Omari. “You are one of Na’val’s students, yes? He is the only one who sends his students to me. It is his way of checking up on me, I suppose. After all, he did rescue me from slayers long ago.”
Everyone gasped. Aidan stiffened, his biceps tensing.
Enflamed (Book 2) Page 23
