Spellbound
Page 18
“It’s too late. There’s no way you’ll get that stubborn bitch back. She’s long gone, to die in the middle of the forsaken damn desert. You lost your chance.” The other Mage sidled up beside him and the energy rippling off the pair made Havoc stumble back.
“Please, let me—” Havoc’s gaze snapped down to the hounds circling around him, their spines sticking up alongside their hackles. Several of them were growling as they eased closer, ears and eyes trained on him. Shit. Shit. Shit. If he ran, he might not make it before they were upon him. Panic and bile rose up his throat and he glanced between the two Magi. “Please…”
Romas raised his hand, as if to spell him, but the greasy looking Mage held him back. “Let him go,” he said, but there was something feral about the way he spoke it. Were they giving him a head start? Romas started to argue, but the other man’s headshake made him scowl. The greasy man smiled once. “Go on, Wyvern. Back to your little snake nest.”
Havoc bolted. The hounds screamed for blood, running at his heels, and he felt teeth sink into his ankle. He sprang into the sky and the hound dropped back to the ground. The pack howled in defeat as his muscles bunched and worked against the wind, adrenaline making his heart scramble around inside his chest like a frightened, caged animal.
So close. He’d been so close.
It was several minutes before he could catch his breath. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Damnit! He was lucky to’ve gotten away with his life. But now what? What if the Sovereign didn’t hold up his end of the bargain? Wylde was still out there…
He shrilled at the sun and circled, and when he made his second lap, he noticed a spatter of black specks against the pale blue of the sky. A flight of Wyverns, coming right at him. His stomach tightened with unease.
But they were coming from the wrong direction… Did Reitsch send out his Guardians after all?
He winged right, dipping down in a steep curve. They soared after him, and the closer they got, the more wrong it felt. They were a fleet of steely black scales and whipcord muscle, their wingspan massive. They flew so close together that the tips of their wings brushed one another.
Havoc gave a shrill, calling to them.
There was a gleam of fang as one Wyvern bumped another and the victim lashed out with a screech that wasn’t at all dragon. A rush of static filled Havoc’s mind, flooding every crevice of his brain. Instinct flared up, screaming at him in soundless words, and before he could doubt it, he wheeled away from them. They weren’t right. Weren’t safe.
He heard a cry of excitement that burst from behind him and they took chase.
***
Kascien. The word bloomed in his head, pale and colorless, tinged with weakness. Fear and panic made the thoughts spiral downwards. Kascien!
He heard a high-pitched scream, terror stricken, and a flash of silver scales that gleamed like steel in the sunlight. Wings pressed tight to a sleek body, the tips quivering ever so slightly. And then he saw the gaping maw of a sandwyrm, fangs jagged, spikes jutting out of the sand like shark fins. Another gurgle, a scream, and the heady stench of blood.
“Kascien!”
He snapped awake, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat covering him from head to toe. Kascien kicked off the sheets and rolled out of bed, stumbling across the wooden floor for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. His ribs ached and his throat burned, as if he’d been screaming his lungs out all night. Each breath sent stabbing pains through to his back and he breathed shallowly. He washed his face in the basin of water in the bathroom and let it drip down his bare chest.
Jaovari.
His bond’s voice was so clear in his head, sharp and brilliant and pained. Just a nightmare, but he was having a hard time shaking off the after images. Shaking his head, he tugged on a shirt and fled Castor’s little house before the older man could catch him for a lesson, setting off to find Wylde.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice was filled with worry as he approached her. She sat near the fire pit, which was only embers and ash now. She moved to stand, but he placed a hand on her shoulder, then eased down to sit beside her. He felt a rush of emotion as she twined her fingers in his and squeezed his hand. God, should he even tell her?
“Don’t try and lie your way out of this one, Kass. Something’s up.”
Damn, she knew him well. “A nightmare…” He frowned, pulling their entwined hands onto his lap, his fingertips brushing over the tops of her knuckles. “I saw Jaovari. She was afraid, in my dream. And I saw a sandwyrm.” He laughed it off. “But it was just a nightmare. I must’ve pulled a muscle in my sleep.”
Her eyes clouded. “You feel pain?”
“Just a little achy, that’s all. Don’t worry, Wylde.”
“Kascien, when you bond to a dragon, you retain a connection. You could be picking up on Jaovari’s thoughts. She could’ve be calling to you while you were asleep; it would form a dream. Or in this case, a nightmare. She could be injured.”
He frowned. “She’s in danger?” His heart hitched at the thought of the ruthless wyrms cutting his bond down, their fangs slicing against silver scales, bright blood oozing from fatal wounds.
“Have you tried reforming the connection?”
“How?”
“Call out to her. Seek her out with your mind.” She squeezed his hand, then pulled away. Her hands knotted in her lap, knuckles bleeding white. “I’ll try contacting Aevie. Call for Jaovari.” Then she closed her eyes and fell still and silent.
Kascien ran both hands through his hair, then rested them on his lap. He closed his eyes, breathing in slowly to calm his racing thoughts. What if she was in danger? What could they even do? He shook his head, shrugging off the nerves, and took another calming breath. Then he reached out with invisible feelers, his hand grasping at air. “Jaovari?”
There was silence for a moment, then a surge of hope, clear as spring. “Kascien?”
“Where are you?”
“In the Vanla. I’m not sure where. Kascien, you have to save Neeve. Neeve and Ileen, they’re in danger. The Magi have them. I barely got away, but—”Her thoughts became jumbled and hissing, scrambling around, and Kascien tried to discern through them. “Goddess, they’re back.”
“Where are you? Do you see any landmarks? “
Instead of an answer, he got a flash of sight: He saw a large out-cropping of sandy rocks, jagged and tall and casting shadows down on the sun baked earth. She was in the middle of the bowl; she’d probably sought it out for shelter from the sun. But even a dragon could die of thirst.
And then he saw the wyrms, three of them, circling around her paws. She was balanced precariously on top of a rock, her tail and wings wrapped tightly to her body. She was trembling and Kascien could feel her fear like it was his own. It made him jittery, his fingers trembling.
“I’m coming for you, Jaovari. Hold tight, okay?”
“Hurry, Kascien…” Her voice was soft with exhaustion.
His eyes snapped open and he found himself looking deep into Wylde’s gaze, which was clouded with worry. “Jaovari’s in the middle of the desert. She says Neeve and Ileen have been captured by the Magi. I think I know where she’s at, but we have to leave. She’s being hunted by a whole freaking pack of sandwyrms.”
Her brows puckered. “I contacted Aevie, but the connection was grainy. I could barely hear him and I couldn’t make out anything. He sounded worried, though…”
Kascien’s gut knotted. “I think they’re all in danger, Wylde. I just don’t know why.”
“Let’s go.” She leapt to her feet, swinging around to face him, her wings already forming. “The dragons are under Wyvern protection. Why Havoc would take them from the Nest…? It worries me, Kass. We have to find them.”
They took to the sky and soared through the morning air, already hot from the sun. Kascien watched the red sands below swirl with wind gusts, kicking up dust clouds and carrying the grit across the Vanla. They flew in silence.
He kept his eyes peel
ed for the canyon that he’d seen. Wylde shrilled and dipped down and Kascien dove after her, his wing tip brushing hers. Her tail swiped at him, playful despite the nerves that danced along their scales like fleas.
Up ahead was a large crop of rocks. Kascien flew nearer, reaching out with his mind once again though it meant he was flying blind. “Jaovari?”
“Kascien!” Her voice was strong, loud in his head, and his heart gave a leap as he realized they were close. His eyes snapped open. He circled around the large canyon and gave a dragoncall as he saw her, huddled on a rock, surrounded by sandwyrms.
Anger roiled in his heart, buzzing in his head. “I’m almost there. Hold tight, Jaovari,” he called and he felt her mental nod. Determined. She still had a little fight left in her.
“I’m going down,” he called over the wind and Wylde looked his way, following his gaze down to the wyrms, cutting through the sand with effortless, winding moves. Stalking their prey. They probably figured they were going to have a feast.
“You can’t fight them all.”
“I know. I need you to go back for help.”
Wylde looked startled, opening her mouth to argue, but Kascien shook his head.
“Trust me, Wylde. Please.”
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Be careful,” she said, winging left with a shriek. Kascien circled again, watching her go, wondering if this was the last he’d ever see of her.
But Jaovari needed him. He dove. The air hurtled around his body, whipping his hair away from his eyes. He banked and landed, unsheathing Irianthe and stepping closer. He caught Jaovari’s eye and her head snapped up, wings rigid. “Be careful,” said the dragon in his mind and he shot her a cocksure grin.
“Time to dance with the devil.”
He whistled loudly.
All three wyrms headed his way.
Chapter Nineteen
They drove him forwards, arcing their bodies around him, the fleet swallowing him whole. Their wings beat the air like flying was effortless, cutting through the silence in leathery flaps. Havoc reached out to them over and over, trying to grasp why they were doing this, but each time he was only greeted by hissing, burning static. White noise.
They were massive, but lithe and streamlined with huge wings, deadly claws, and a sheen of jet-black scales that covered every visible inch of their bodies. They weren’t real. They were some sort of hybrid, a sick mutation. And they reeked of Mage.
His gut rolled, fear gripping his heart in a vice, smashing it against his lungs until every ounce of breath was gone. Over and over, he was breathless.
One of the beasts shrilled and snapped at him and he felt a spark of pain as teeth scored his side. He felt the rush of blood spring to the surface and he was greeted with another cry, eager, excited.
Bloodthirsty.
With a scream, he dove sharply down, trying to out-fly them, out-maneuver them, but they were faster, stronger, liquid deadly grace. Teeth snagged his wing and he tumbled, careening through the air. Fangs ripped at his legs, his sides, and he could only whimper and bite back his cries as they drove him towards the sand. They wanted him to scream, he could feel it in their energy.
He landed hard, catching himself and sprinting across the dunes, numb to the pain of their bites. They collided with the ground with hisses and growls, barreling after him on all fours, their wings folded up so that their clawed hands were like the front paws of a hound. Their tails snaked through the air, striking cobras.
His chest ached, burned for breath. He gasped it in, but it wasn’t enough. Glancing to the horizon line, he saw the top of the Nest. Almost home free! If only he could get there in time. His only thought was escape, freedom from these terrifying creatures, their maws wide and gaping with two rows of pearly fangs.
Havoc threw himself haphazardly into the air, taking flight and soaring, catching a head start before the mutants could recoup. But damnit, they were fast! He got maybe six yards before their flight encompassed him once again, sucking him into the black hole that was their core. He strained to go higher, but they met every move with one of their own.
They swept across the entrance of the village of Haven, casting frightening shadows on the unsuspecting marketplace. He heard a scream of surprise, followed by one of the mutant’s shrieks. The tight-knit fleet split with shrills and screams and Havoc could only gape as they dive bombed the town square.
A hatchling stood in their path, her blue eyes wide and fear dripping off of her, a sickly sweet smell. There was a chortling sound and then the child was mauled, flesh torn from her still screaming, writhing body as the Wyvern-creature ripped into her.
Havoc was slammed into from behind, spiraling towards the ground. He tried to catch himself, tried to right himself, but his wing slammed into the corner of the Nest and pain flared as fragile bones snapped. He screamed, but it was drowned out by the panic of the village.
Then Havoc slammed into the ground, his entire body flooded with a pain so bright that it blinded him. His vision blacked. When he came around, he was staring up into the quicksilver eyes of a female mutant, her dark hair tangling around her split-grinned face, cruel and twisted and sadistic.
Wylde. She looked like Wylde…
He reached up, but his hands wouldn’t move. His body was frozen, paralyzed from the fall. He felt fear creep up his throat. Then the mutant grinned and opened her jaws and Havoc could only scream.
***
Wylde flew hard and fast, her wings beating the air with each pulse of her heart. She felt the mingling energies of the Jiria behind her, silent warriors with blades at their hips, ready to do battle or die trying. They flew across the top of the bowl and Wylde motioned for them to follow as she pulled into a dive.
All she could see was Kascien in her mind’s eye, being ripped to shreds by the wyrms; blood soaking the sand, nearly black in its fatal glory; his mouth slack in a scream that was uttered, but never heard.
A shiver raced down her spine and she shook her head. No! She let out a Wyvern cry at the thoughts, shoving them down, purging them from her soul. Hope lit up her heart as she saw Kascien slashing and dodging as the wyrms circled around him. He swiped Irianthe against one’s face and the beast let out a gurgling cry. He sunk the blade into its skull and it wrenched sharply to the right.
Irianthe was jerked from Kascien’s grip and he stumbled back. A second wyrm flew forwards and Kascien dodged, but its fangs skimmed the leg of his pants. He tumbled to the sand with a yell of frustration and Wylde reached for her own blade. She slammed into the sand and struck out, burying the blade to the hilt in the second wyrm’s head in one fell swoop. She hauled it back out with a squelching sound. The wyrm spun away, wailing in pain as it slowly died.
The Jiria fought off the remaining sandwyrms. Wylde met Kascien’s gaze and nodded, and the boy scrambled to his feet and lunged for the rock Jaovari was perched on. He climbed up the side and she saw the dragon’s eyes widen, watched her press her head into Kascien’s chest as he soothed her.
Yuri slew the remaining wyrms as if she was born for that very task, and three slug-like corpses leaked dark blood into the sand around them. They twitched and oozed. Wylde wiped blood off her sword and slid it back into its duster. She jogged to Kascien’s side, just in time to hear Jaovari’s strained voice relaying the truth to why they were out in the middle of the Vanla.
"Havoc came to the keep, telling us that you and Wylde were in danger from the Magi, that he needed our help to save you both. I knew I had to go; you’re my bond, Kascien, I can’t just leave you behind, but then he suggested Neeve go as well. He said that her visions might aid us. My poor Neeve," she murmured, shaking her head.
Her eyes flitted to Wylde’s, locking gazes for a moment before she dropped her muzzle back into Kascien’s chest. Her sides heaved in a sigh. "He led us right into a trap. Neeve knew something was off. She was afraid of the darkness and I thought… I was foolish. I thought the Magi had you, Kascien. We barreled in without a se
cond thought, and these hellhounds came from nowhere. They attacked us… They pinned Neeve."
The drakehounds. Wylde saw Kascien’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, nodding.
"Havoc just stood there and watched them take her down. A couple of Magi men wrapped silver chains around Ileen’s neck, keeping him from fleeing. I barely got away. I strained my wing trying to find you. I called for you all night long, praying you were close enough to hear me. Thank the Goddess you did."
Wylde’s stomach lurched. Not Havoc. Not her nestmate. He’d been one of her closest friends, her confidant once Bluff had been sent away. He was calm and reserved, not someone who acted on impulse.
But then she thought of that kiss, his lips on hers, rough and demanding. Possessive, the fire within his soul had stirred like embers at his claim of her. He’d claimed her, beyond her will. She thought of the signet ring on his finger. Goddess. Why would he betray his people? Was this her fault for leaving in the first place? She pressed her eyes shut and breathed slowly.
"Kascien, you have to save them. They’ll be subjected to torture! Little Neeve can’t handle the strain of that. I can’t just leave her there. Please." Jaovari swung her head, eyes widening as she realized the Jiria were a brand new audience. She stiffened, tiny ears pinning against her head. Then, "Please," she whispered, then slumped to the ground, her muscles trembling. Kascien knelt beside her and stroked her scales. His face was pale. Resigned.
"Kascien—" Wylde began, only to be cut off by a high-pitched scream. Her head snapped up and she scanned the skies to find a group of Wyverns flying their way. Her father had sent scouts to find her. She knew it’d happen eventually.
"You have babysitters to check up on you, princess?" Yuri sneered.
"Screw you," she snapped back, frustration boiling in her stomach. Kascien was right: The Jiria would never truly accept her. She huffed at the stoic look on Yuri’s face and reached out her mind to the Kiir’vanan fleet coming straight for them.