Spellbound

by Kodilynn Calhoun

  “Just go, Wylde,” Kascien murmured, looking stricken. He glanced at Reitsch, who was shooting daggers at them from his narrowed eyes, then looked to the dragons all around them. Wylde followed his gaze. The dragons were silent—though they were strong in their own regard, they relied on the Wyverns to keep the dragon’s keep safe. To speak against the Kiir’vanan leader would be dangerous for them. Wylde would have to make up for it by herself.

  “This is unfair!” Her voice rose shrill. She looked at Kascien. “How can you just…step aside and let him order you around like that? He is nothing to you!”

  “Yeah, well…” Kascien’s smile was wry. “He’s your dad. Be thankful. At least you have one.”

  He untangled their fingers, leaving her standing there, grasping empty air. Her pulse thudded dully in her head as Kascien faced her father, standing proud with his chin tipped up. The same look of defiance he’d given plenty of the Magi back in Esperidion when he was trying to save Wylde. She couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips, despite the situation.

  Reitsch looked him up and down. “You are Magi,” he said, stoic. “You reek of magic, a magic that no Wyvern should ever have. We are Gifted, but you are…disgustingly so.”

  “I’m Wyvern, too. You can’t deny that,” Kascien said, spreading his arms and letting the change of skins overtake him. Wylde watched in awe—sure, she’d seen many of her nestmates change, but with Kascien…it was somehow different. Somehow beautiful. She felt a flicker of excitement ignite deep within her, a burn low in her gut, slowly heating up.

  His wings were long, the leather a pale cream where his scales were swirled with flames. His tail had a barbed spike at the tip and the row of spines down his back looked like razors in the dawn’s light. He was large, but Reitsch still towered over him.

  Wylde saw her father puff up, a snarl on his face. “I want you far away from Haven. Get out. Now.” He spun away. He reached out and snagged Wylde’s arm, dragging her after him. She let out a hiss and dug her heels into the sand, but he was stronger than her. “Back to the Nest. This is over.”

  “You’re going to just deny me?” Kascien bolted out, his voice tinged with anger. “Fine. Ignore my existence. No, don’t worry about hurting my feelings—no one else gives a damn. Maybe I’m just easy to forget.” His words were fiery, clawed fists balled at his sides.

  “And where the hell do you expect me to go? I’m sure as hell not leaving to buddy up with the Magi! What if I don’t leave, huh? Then what? Are you going to kill me?”

  Wylde’s heart constricted as she twisted in her father’s grip to better see Kascien. The dragons stood around him, as if they were unsure whether to protect their newest bond or release him into the wild.

  “Daddy, please,” she whispered fervently, tugging on Reitsch’s wrist, feeling like a child. She ached, the same ache that she’d felt when he’d sent Bluff away. No. Please... “You can’t just leave him! He doesn’t even know how to fly!”

  “He shouldn’t have gone through the bonding,” her father snapped back. “You knew my answer. I told you no and you did it anyway. You might’ve brought upon us our doom, child. That boy is stronger than anyone I’ve ever felt. He could destroy us. He is not, nor will he ever be, safe!”

  “Then wouldn’t it behoove you to be on his good side, Father? Maybe welcoming him into the Nest as a fellow Wyvern would keep his powers on our side. Then we could just destroy the Magi and live happily ever after.”

  Reitsch shot her a glare, looking over his shoulder at Kascien. Then he met his daughter’s eyes, his gaze suddenly tired and aged. Wylde prayed he would change his mind, let Kascien return home with them. “At least let me teach him to fly. He’s a dead man walking on the ground. Daddy, please!”

  “Back to the Nest,” he announced to the flight around him and they took to the sky without a sound. “Forget him, Wylde. It will be easier on everyone if you do.” He gave her a push, ahead of him.

  She snarled, changing shape, and she took to the sky in a bustle of anger and energy. She was so tempted to dive back to Kascien, heft him up and take him far away from her father and his stupid ideals. She huffed and shot Kascien a private thought: “Stay with the dragons. I will come back for you—I promise.”

  And in her head, she could’ve sworn she felt Kascien smile.

  Chapter Ten

  Kascien watched the backs of the retreating Wyverns fly through the sky until they were too far away to see clearly. Then he blinked to refocus his eyes and kicked at the sand with a growl.

  “Damnit,” he growled, but it was half-hearted. Wylde’s words repeated themselves in his head, echoed and distant. He found himself smiling despite the fact that he was in the middle of the freaking desert, surrounded by dragons, with wings where his arms should’ve been and scales itching across his skin. He attempted to wrap his arms around himself, but they just got tangled, so he spat out another curse for good measure.

  The dragons were whispering to one another, soft in the back of his mind. He glanced up to find them staring at him, their eyes solemn and kind of sad. They held little fear towards him now—though he was a Mage, he was also Wyvern and their princess had obviously trusted him enough to defy her own father. He guessed that was good enough for them.

  With a sigh, he slumped down to the ground and tried to focus on his human form, thankful when he regained use of his fingers. He dug his hands into the sand and gripped two handfuls before letting the grit slide back between his fingers. It stuck to his clammy palms, so he wiped them on his pants.

  “So…now what?” He met Jaovari’s eyes.

  Although the dragons themselves had little facial expression, in his head, Kascien felt her smile almost tenderly, a way a mother might. A good mother, not one like his. He gave a soft snort, but the dragon ambled over and pushed her muzzle up against his face. Her nostrils—tiny slits in her nose—whuffed out hot air against his skin and he reached a hand up to stroke her scales like he’d seen Wylde pet her mare.

  “You are free to stay with us until the princess returns.”

  “Jaovari, you don’t have the right to tell him that,” a dragon as gold as the sun spoke, looking a little sheepish when Kascien shot him a look. “Only Karavash can decide if he stays or goes. You know that.”

  Jaovari huffed. “Karavash will see it my way.” She turned to Kascien, her eyes softening. “Come with me, nestling,” she said, easing her body to the sand, her legs bending at the knees. Kascien eyed her, uncertain for a moment when she lowered a wing. “Hop on.”

  His heart dropped. She wanted to give him a ride on her back? “Isn’t that, like, disrespectful or something?” he asked, trying to be polite. The other dragons were silent, watching them.

  Jaovari shook her head with a laugh and nudged him closer. “It is not disrespectful for a Wyvern to ride on his dragon bond’s back.”

  “Just don’t call her your trusty steed,” a small peaches-and-cream dragon giggled, her voice tinged with nerves. “Else she bites your head off.”

  “I’m going to bite your head off,” Jaovari said on a growl, but it was light-hearted. Kascien rolled his eyes. Weren’t dragons supposed to be these powerful, wise guardians? This odd group seemed more like an estranged family than any sort of sentinels.

  The little dragon, who he would later come to know as Neeve, laughed again and darted away, light on her paws. She rushed behind the golden dragon, who shot her the equivalent of a death glare and blew out a line of smoke from his nostrils. Neeve sobered quickly and dropped her head. She was definitely the youngest of the group.

  “Up, up,” sing-songed Jaovari, who pushed her nose into his butt rather rudely. He grumbled and resisted the impulse to swat at her, moving to her side. His hands found her scales, but they were too slick to get a good grip on. His fingers wrapped around a pair of spikes on her back and he took a deep breath, ready to haul himself up.

  To his surprise, it was nearly effortless. He felt as graceful as Wylde had looked mo
unting Miriel. He sat snugly between Jaovari’s neck and a spike that wedged up against his rear. Her wings spread and brushed his shins. He wrapped both legs firmly around her neck with a spark of fear that lit his stomach afire, gripping the tuft of white fur that grew down the ridge of her neck.

  She laughed. He groaned.

  There was a keening wail and the dragons began to amble away from the front of the sand bowl. A few of them took wing, but most of them just buzzed along on foot. Jaovari lowered her neck and began a steady lope, her spine rising and falling with each stride. Kascien gasped as he nearly flew off her back at the choppy gait and he clung tight to her neck, pressing his face into her cool scales. He knew Wylde would’ve laughed at him for this and was kind of glad she wasn’t here to witness it. Kind of.

  The canyon was massive, opening up to miles upon miles of sandy dunes and caverns of red stone. He’d never known the Vanla was so large. He could get lost in the dragons’ keep, let alone the desert. Near the center of the valley was a marble statue of a dragon on its hind legs, its head thrown back to the sky. Its eyes were sparkling gems in the morning sun.

  The dragons slowed as they approached a pair of huge, textured grey boulders that seemed to melt into the ground. Sand lined up the sides of them, sticking to every crevice. The dragons gathered around and bowed to the rocks.

  Jaovari made her way up to them and slipped between a couple of her fellow nestmates, bowing so low that Kascien began to slide down her neck. He was deposited on the ground at her feet and she looked at him pointedly.

  “Stay there.”

  “Elders. We ask you to awaken. We need your insight.” This was the voice of the first male Kascien and Wylde had come upon, his voice a baritone rumble. He stood stiff-legged, his tail winding behind him in a serpentine pattern.

  Then the rocks began to move.

  Two giant dragons slowly rose from their slumber, stretching out heavy wings—wings that were twice the size of Jaovari’s. They had no spikes or spines down their backs and their tails merely tapered into tips. Their scales were the color of washed out stone, crusted with sand. Their necks were long, their muzzles almost elegant.

  The smaller of the two was definitely female and her eyes were a vivid orange, grandmotherly in a sense. The male just looked annoyed, his nub ears flat as he simmered with irritation. He glanced around at the gathering before his gaze landed on Kascien.

  “You have brought a Mage before us?” He bared sharp teeth at Kascien, who blanched—lovely; he was unbound to the Magi only to get eaten by a pissy grandpa dragon. “Explain yourself, hatchling.”

  If that was an insult, it didn’t seem to faze Jaovari. She ducked her head and scooted Kascien closer to the row of teeth, offering him to the Elder. Kascien set his jaw and stared the dragon in the eye even as his heart pounded out a rush of static in his head.

  “Elder Karavash. He is Wyvern and he is my bond. He goes by the name of Kascien. Surely that is an omen.”

  Kascien frowned. “What are you—“ But Jaovari chose that time to set her paw down on his leg. “Ouch, damnit!” He slapped at her talons and the dragon let loose a rumble. The Elder, Karavash, seemed to consider them for a moment, then looked towards the female Elder. Kascien felt it was safe to guess she was his mate.

  “Cashien. Kascien. Similar, indeed,” voiced the female in a silky tone.

  “Who is Cashien?” They ignored him.

  “What does the twinblood want from us, Jaovari?”

  “Kascien wants to rest in the safety of our keep. King Reitsch does not approve of his existence and feels that by protecting this boy, it will raise the Magi’s ire and they will declare war upon us,” she said. “He doesn’t see that Kascien might be the only way to close the rift between Vanla and the Shining Cities for good. He is stubborn, just like always, Kirami.”

  “It is why he is a good king,” Kirami murmured. She lowered her muzzle until she was eye to eye with Kascien, who offered a bold smile, blowing bangs out of his eyes with a whoosh of breath. Kirami smiled in return. “He has spirit. And he is powerful. Full of raw energy.”

  “Yes, and it’s fortunate for us that he doesn’t wish to return to the Magi. They have treated him unfairly, binding him a slave when he was just a child. He wishes to embrace his Wyvern spirit.” Jaovari nudged him roughly in the shoulder and he quickly nodded, though he was lost to what they were even talking about.

  “Fortunate, indeed,” said Kirami.

  “And what makes you believe, with all of your heart, that this twinblood will not lead the Magi straight to us? What makes you think he will not sell us out for, perhaps…the chance to lead?” Karavash asked.

  “Lead who?” Kascien met Karavash’s slitted eyes with a growl on his lips. “The Magi? They can go fuck themselves.” The Elders peered at him, blinked, then looked to one another. He sighed. “Never mind. Look. I’m not looking to lead anyone. I just want to find a place where I can be free. Be myself. Yanno?”

  “Sometimes you must fight for your freedom.”

  “Great. So now you’re recruiting me for battle?” When they fell silent and didn’t deny it, Kascien stood, but Jaovari knocked him back down with a sweep of her head. He scowled at her and crossed both arms over his chest, feeling angry and outnumbered. Fuck them!

  “I’m not your slave. In fact…” He barked out a bitter laugh. “Starting now, I’m nobody’s slave!”

  He pushed himself to his feet and when Jaovari went to correct him, he whacked her—hard—atop the nose. Her jaws snapped together with a click of teeth, her eyes flooding with shock.

  “Maybe you should listen when I tell you something. I’m not fighting for anyone.” Which wasn’t exactly true. He’d fight for Wylde, but that was beside the point. “And if that’s what you expect of me, I’m out of here.”

  “Kascien, your name foretells of many days of peace,” Kirami began, but he shook his head fiercely.

  “Whoever this Cashien guy is, I’m not him. Don’t even start thinking that this is fate or destiny or what-the-fuck ever. I’m not Cashien. I’ve been in the bottomless stomach of the Magi and I’ve been touched by their powers too many times to count. Forgive me if I have no wish to return. Ever.”

  Dragons all around him began to simmer and growl, voicing their opinions on the matter. Let him go. Or: Stay and fight. Or: Kascien was their savior, he just didn’t know it. Or even: Kascien was the reincarnation of the Wyvern hero.

  “Screw all of you.” Kascien spat into the sand and turned away. Fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, he headed out of the bowl, back the way Jaovari had brought him, though it was a much longer trek on foot. He had fleeting thoughts of Wylde telling him that there were plenty of dangerous beasts in the desert, but he was so pissed that it didn’t matter one way or another. Hell, maybe he’d just do everyone a favor and get eaten.

  Jaovari thundered up beside him. “Kascien, please. You must not leave the canyon. The sun gets hot. You need shade, Wyvern or not. And water. We have both—come around, nestling. We will take care of you.”

  “I don’t want your help,” Kascien said. Jaovari followed him in silence to the edge of the canyon bowl, but paused at the edge when he went under the sandstone archway. Kascien took a deep breath and turned towards her.

  “Hey. Look. Sorry I hit you. I just… I need room. I have to go.”

  “You can’t even fly, my child. You’ll die.” Her eyes were soulful.

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said with the smallest of smiles, but it fell flat. He shook his head, thinking of Wylde. Thinking of what her expression might be when she came back and realized he was gone. His heart hurt at the thought, but her father would never accept him. She was the Kiir’vanan’s princess; she had to stay behind for her people. He couldn’t keep weighing her down.

  “Tell Wylde that I’m braving the desert. Tell her…I’m sorry I didn’t wait for her, and tell her she’s better off without me.” Damn, that hurt to get out.

  Jaova
ri nodded slowly and he forced his heavy legs to move. He left the dragons’ canyon behind with a heavy heart, praying he was doing the right thing. It was just him now—him and the desert.

  And all of its beasties.

  Chapter Eleven

  With each wing beat, Wylde’s stomach dropped further and further in her gut. Her father flew ahead, flanked by his personal guards, Salem and Kavi, who Wylde would inherit when she took the throne. Just watching his back made anger bubble deep inside her soul.

  He was running from the fact that Kascien might—might—fuel the fire for a fight between the Kiir’vanan and the Magi. But he could also be the one who redeemed them. He needed to understand that even with a Mage’s prowess, Kascien was still a newborn Wyvern, hardly a warrior, and needed the Nest as much as the Nest might someday need him.

  She landed heavily, her feet solid on the sand as her claws receded. Her wings folded in, arms taking their place, her fingers clenching together.

  “Father, please.” She stepped closer, reaching for him. He shot her a tired glare and his guards shifted their weight, their blades of sterling at their sides though their hands never fell to the hilts. They knew she wouldn’t harm her own kin, no matter her temper. A temper which needed checked. She took a steadying breath. “Let me bring Kascien home. Please. He’ll—”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I forbid you to see the boy again. I understand that he saved your life, and for that I am grateful, but he is a danger to us. A danger to himself.” He took Wylde’s wrist in his hand, his claws skirting across her flesh. She instinctively jerked back, but he dragged her along.

  “Unfortunately for you, my child, I know you too well.” The look on his face was now grim. “Even if I send you to your quarters, you’ll just disobey and go looking for that twinblood.”

  “If you’d just—”