Later, she’d realize that her father knew he was walking into his death. He and Momma both had chosen to draw the dragon away from their village, to carry their job of Watcher through to its inevitable conclusion rather than risking the civilization they’d so carefully built by hand. That’s why Poppa had remained gazing after his only child when Amber glanced back before entering the underground tunnels that promised to protect her from harm.
Huddling in the dim light of the main cavern for the rest of that day and all of the following night had been the hardest thing Amber had ever done. She kept expecting her parents to pound on the sealed doors at any moment, asking to be let inside. So she was relieved when the Mayor set her loose the following morning, when he asked her to check on the Watchers they both expected to find snug in their marriage bed and annoyed at an early wakeup call.
Only the cottage was empty and the surrounding air was acrid from a lingering haze of oily smoke. Amber walked fearfully through the morning, expecting a dragon to swoop down upon her at any moment, but everything appeared just as it had always been.
The gardens were dripping with food waiting to be picked. Her bed was unmade, as usual. The chickens were hungry, their nest boxes full of eggs.
But both of her parents were missing. And when Amber found them at last after following her nose up onto the ridge top, she’d first had to stumble through the smoldering remnants of a burnt-out forest fire. Only when soot clogged her nostrils and her legs were weak from wandering did she discover the strong figures who bookmarked her childhood at long last.
Not living, of course. They weren’t even recognizable corpses by that point. Instead, both witches had been reduced to a pile of bones and ash.
Momma and Poppa had sacrificed themselves for the sake of the village. And now, as the moon-marked beast turned and stared directly into Amber’s eyes, she had a sinking suspicion that the time had come for her to do the same.
“Get back underground and stay there,” Amber bit out as she slid down an angled limb and returned to the strength-giving soil. This time, she ignored the way Charlie’s eyes squinched together at her authoritarian tone and how Thea bleated in distress. There was no time to stroke her friend’s tender male ego or to provide her steadfast companion with a soothing pat on the head.
Instead, she offered a simple explanation, hoping it would be enough to get Charlie moving in the right direction. “Another dragon is on his way. It’s not safe for anyone but the Watcher to be above the earth.”
Then grabbing supplies from the stash on her porch, she took off back up the trail at a run.
Chapter 6
The woman muttered complaints he couldn’t quite make out as she jogged up the path toward him. Twin spots of color sat high upon her sharp cheekbones and she looked twice as tired as when she’d left.
Despite her annoyance, though, she was impossible to look away from. Zane knew he should have been focusing on the vines squeezing air out of his chest, but he instead soaked up the image of sunlight dappling across fine-boned female shoulders while dainty feet bypassed each obstacle littering the uneven path with ease.
His captor was every bit as fascinating as he remembered...which might explain why the shifter found himself speaking without forethought. “Is something the matter?”
The result wasn’t quite what he’d intended, but at least the witch’s head popped up and her vitality returned with a vengeance. Lest he’d somehow forgotten that his captor was tied into the same plant matter that currently prevented him from twitching so much as a single finger, a halo of green enchantment sparked back to life around her hands as she prepared to take defensive action. And while her magic remained in check, the retort she flung in Zane’s direction was both sharp and cold. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Of course not. Because we haven’t been formally introduced,” Zane answered, the bone-deep chill that had settled into his long limbs lifting as his companion peered into his eyes at long last. Her focused attention soothed him in a way he couldn’t quite describe...and was helpful for a more concrete reason as well. Because, sure, his tricky glamour had failed against this same earth witch in the recent past. But he’d be subtler now, not force the issue. Just let the woman decide for herself that she wanted to turn her caged dragon free.
He could almost taste his freedom now.
To that end, he layered a little more sweetness into his voice as he offered his name. “I’m Zane Pendragon. And you are?”
“Angry, tired, and in a hurry,” the woman snapped back. And as quickly as her flames of interest had begun to rise, metaphorical cold water quenched them dead. She turned away abruptly, dropping that ungainly coil of rope to her feet, and knelt to hack at the strands with a tool approximately as dull as a serrated butter knife.
Deep within Zane’s belly, a strange sensation took hold. Frustration should have flared when his glamour failed a second time. Maybe he should have tasted a hint of fear as he found himself entirely at the woman’s mercy while pinned by writhing denizens of the Green.
But instead, it seemed as if the kernel of yearning he’d attempted to implant into his captor had rebounded and lodged in his own heart instead. Only magic didn’t work that way. Even at the best of times, his glamour was fleeting and quickly shrugged off by those who were prepared for the magic’s effect. No, his honeyed words couldn’t have created this deep-seated interest that prompted him to offer assistance to a captor he’d meant to undermine at every turn.
No matter the reason, Zane found himself speaking without a hint of manipulation in his voice as the woman continued to struggle with rope and knife. “Well, Angry Tired and In a Hurry, I’d be glad to help. Just call off your vines and I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll even tie myself back up, gentleman’s honor.”
Only after the final word left his tongue did he realize that his captor’s lack of whetstone skills was going to be more than a minor inconvenience to them both. Because that relentless twin bond was once again tugging at his chest, his gaze drifting to the eastern horizon where a black speck had popped into existence while his attention was riveted elsewhere. Between his own inability to move and the witch’s trouble with ropework, it appeared the pair of them would still be stuck in this spot when his brother arrived to flambé them both alive.
“You can tell he’s coming, eh?” The earth witch brushed aside kudzu and grapevines as if they were kittens, then tied the end of the shortened length of rope firmly around his good right wrist. Then, almost as an afterthought, she spoke to the air behind his right shoulder. “Do you have any idea who that dragon might be?”
“I do,” Zane answered carefully. His knack would have liked to rise again, to reel her in now that she’d spoken to him of her own volition. But every single one of his words directed toward this woman had backfired in the past. So he squashed the golden glimmer and instead spoke plainly, wishing his captor wasn’t puttering behind his back where she couldn’t see her face. “And he knows who I am, too. That’s why he’s coming back.”
Then words fled both lips and brain as his injured wrist was wrenched backward to meet its mate, bone end grinding against bone end in the process. The big, bad shifter was pretty sure the sound emanating from his mouth in response was on approximately the same register as the whimpering of a kicked dragonet.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!”
As quickly as she’d disappeared, the witch now popped up by Zane’s left side, her distress very much evident as she patted along his ripped sleeve in search of the pain’s primary source. His eyes still watered with residual agony, but the banked coals in his chest warmed yet further as she pushed cloth out of the way and revealed the swollen lump of flesh that Zane had hoped not to set eyes upon until he was back in dragon form and able to mend the wound with a flare of fire-tuned magic.
“It’s broken.”
And you sound so angry. Despite himself, Zane smiled through his pain. Was his captor really blaming him for not mentioning the injury earli
er to an enemy who had grabbed his unsuspecting form out of the air then done her level best to strangle him with a forest full of animated vines? And was he really feeling guilty that he hadn’t mentioned the wound from the beginning despite their less-than-friendly introduction?
Then pain receded as cooling hands moved feather-light across bare skin. Enemy or no enemy, Zane would have liked to relax into the woman’s touch, to purr out his pleasure at the gentleness of her caress. But time was running short. The previously tiny speck in the distance had now materialized into a dragon-shaped blob as his brother continued to speed closer to the site of their former battle.
Priority one: escape from the Green. There’ll be time to untangle the mystery of this earth witch later.
So despite the fact that the notion of using glamour abruptly made him sick to his stomach, Zane pushed velvet-lined seduction into his words as he eliminated every trace of pain from his body language. “Mending it is simple,” he offered. “Just release me and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll heal my arm, I’ll drive the dragon away, and we’ll all live happily ever after.”
For one glorious moment, he thought the spell was working too. The spark in the witch’s eyes mellowed into a gentle glimmer and her eye-catching chest heaved as breathing accelerated. The woman’s head even tilted to one side, and she twirled a bent index finger through an out-of-control curl while biting her lower lip in consideration.
Always a good sign when a woman touched her hair.
But then his captor took one long step backwards, raised her eyebrows, and laughed directly into his face. Nope, glamour apparently was not the answer to this sticky situation after all.
***
Okay, so maybe that “happily ever after” had been going a bit too far. But wasn’t that what every woman wanted?
Zane nearly growled in frustration. He didn’t have time for subtlety.
“How about this?” the woman countered. “If you try something like that again, I’ll gag you with walnut leaves and return you to the Green. You won’t even be around to greet him when the mystery dragon arrives.”
Then Zane found himself stepping forward as the rope yanked against both wrists at once. The pain was intense but manageable now that he was ready for it. Still, he couldn’t understand how he’d gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that the woman had been able to complete her knotwork—in front of his belly this time around—without him even being aware of her fingers’ enticing proximity.
“Don’t move,” she ordered then, turning her back without checking to ensure that the plants holding Zane in place were sufficient to protect her from his much larger form. Moving quickly, she knelt in the earth at the edge of the clearing before sinking her fingers into the dirt and shoveling rich leaf mold into a bag supported by two bent knees.
Finally: “Come here.” Zane considered planting his feet and unveiling his knack one last time. But the imprisoning vines tugged him forward before he could fully decide to delay, yanking none too gently against tensed muscles until he gave in and strode over to stand by the witch’s side.
Only then did his gorge rise as he realized the purpose of his captor’s actions. Weren’t the Green’s minions bad enough when stuck in place so they could only swipe at a dragon while he sped past?
Not in the witch’s eyes. Instead, she tickled a single kudzu plant with one gentle finger, prompting the vine to crawl out of the earth and into the homemade pot cupped between her thighs. A gnarled tuber sucked itself out of the dirt with a pop, then tiny rootlets danced across one another in the lump’s wake like so many intertwined spiders.
Oh, hell no. Zane could see where this was going and he didn’t want any part of it.
Still, when the witch straightened back up and raised one eyebrow in question, he didn’t argue. After all, his brother was flying closer by the second and his words had done more harm than good in the past.
His submission had nothing to do with the curiosity that burned deep within his gut, Zane decided. Regardless of the reason, he gritted his teeth and bent his head, allowing his captor to drape the bag around his waiting neck. The earthen pot settled against his good side with a solid thunk and Zane pretended not to notice how the kudzu twisted and twined around his waist, his arms, his neck.
The living ropes slid across skin like so many snakes. Zane had never been a fan of serpents.
Most of his attention was consumed by trying not to cringe as a plethora of earth-rooted tendrils were gradually replaced by one malevolent potted pet, but Zane hadn’t completely forgotten about his brother. He could now hear the steady drumbeat of dragon wings in the distance. And, unfortunately, Zane himself was in no state to repel the latter’s approach. He’d just have to hope that his magical captor had more tricks up her sleeve than one transplanted kudzu vine.
Zane needn’t have worried. As the plant twisted tighter against his neck, warning him away from any sudden movement, his witch strode quickly forward until half the height of a tree stood between them. Then, tapping her bare feet against the dirt, she said simply: “Open.”
Curling backwards like a rumpled carpet, the earth obeyed. The ground beneath Zane’s boots shook gently and air filled with the screech of breaking boulders as a deep pit formed inches away from the witch’s dirty toes. Soil rained down along one wall, settling in the shape of human-friendly steps, and clusters of bioluminescent mushrooms popped out of the rough-hewn walls to light the way. Still, fungal glow lights or no fungal glow lights, Zane found it impossible to see all the way to the bottom of the pit.
“He won’t sense you through the earth,” the witch said as the last trickle of soil filtered down into the hole. Her words were a statement, but the cant of her head suggesting she wasn’t as sure of herself as she wished to appear.
And while his captor was right, Zane was less than thrilled by the cleverness of her solution. Several feet of soil would definitely eliminate the beacon that drew his brother closer. But a creature of fire and air like himself would also become significantly less powerful when swallowed up by rock and dirt. Between the cave and the collar, even Zane’s minor knack might be neutralized if he followed the fungi down into the dark.
“Well?” the witch prompted. Her formerly enticing lips had thinned down into a long straight line now, and she tensed in preparation for a fight.
This was the moment of truth. Time for a smart dragon to make his stand, breaking free of the kudzu and overpowering his captor in one fell swoop. His brother’s entrance would provide the confusion Zane needed for the first part of his plan, then all it would take was a stray flicker of fire to remove the collar from around his aching throat.
Zane itched to spread his dragon wings once more. To use his inner fire to overcome a witch who drew her power directly from the evil of the Green. His captor wouldn’t win if they battled while he was neither consumed by proximity of his brother nor handicapped by the ring around his neck.
Still, there were so many questions that could only be answered by this imperious woman tapping her toes at the entrance to the created cavern. Conquering the Fade suddenly seemed less pressing than Zane’s desire to understand what had set his companion muttering in frustration a few minutes earlier. Plus, he hadn’t even managed to wheedle loose his captor’s given name.
So instead of playing the odds, Zane pulled in the trailing length of rope until he could gather it into one looped bundle atop two bound hands. Then slowly, gently, he strode forward and placed the loose end atop the witch’s clenched fist.
Giving up his power had never felt so right.
Finally, sweeping a bow as best he could with hands tied against his belly, Zane said quietly, “Ladies first.”
Chapter 7
“Ladies first.”
Amber couldn’t quite explain why the commonplace phrase kindled a core of molten emotion deep within her treacherous belly. Probably more of the dragon’s manipulative magic, she decided wryly. Still, she accepted the rope as the gi
ft it appeared to be and descended the stairs to escape the roar of wind denoting the moon-marked dragon’s rapid approach.
Her own dragon—Zane—stepped up close behind as she paused to snap a glowing mushroom off the right-hand wall. His heat counteracted the cool that sat all around them in the deep hole, and Amber found herself leaning backwards until the brush of cloth against skin returned her to the present with a jolt.
Don’t forget Momma and Poppa’s killer, she chided herself. Already, hairs stood on end along her forearms, due perhaps to the predator’s antithetical magic or to her fear of the dragon’s approach. Either way, Amber called quickly to her goat, sighing with relief as Thea pranced down the stairs toward them without delay.
“That’s an impressive animal,” her companion offered quietly, his breath stirring up Amber’s curls so they tickled against her cheek and neck. The shifter was so close now that the rope she’d used to bind him could easily have become a weapon in his hands. But instead of protecting herself, Amber found herself rolling the statement around in her mind like a rich bite of warm pudding.
Coming from Charlie, the exact same words would have been imbued with an undertone of annoyance that rose whenever her friend was forced to deal with her farm-animal-turned-pet. Zane, on the other hand, seemed honestly surprised that Thea had willingly walked down the crumbling stairs into near darkness as soon as her mistress called.
He was right, too—a run-of-the-mill goat would have been terrified by the abruptly appearing cave entrance. On the other hand, Thea was no ordinary goat. In fact, she’d been in this exact same passageway multiple times already.
Everyone present and accounted for, Amber thrust tired fingers into the hard-packed dirt above her head. She’d originally planned to follow her parents’ lead and draw the dragon away from the heart of Greenwich overland. But that was when she’d thought her enemy was hunting earth witches like he’d done in the past.
Verdant Magic: A Standalone Dragon Shifter Adventure (Dragon Mage Chronicles Book 1) Page 4
