Call of the Dragon

by Jessica Drake

  “I’m not exactly a team player,” I said wryly. “If I brought someone else in here, they would overtake the project, clear this place out, and barely give me any compensation or credit. I can’t bring anyone here for fear that they’ll steal my find.”

  Jallis frowned. “Then why did you bring me?”

  My cheeks warmed, and I was thankful for the darkness. “You’re already rich, so I figured you wouldn’t have any desire to try and excavate the place yourself. And I was kind of banking on you not being the kind of asshole who would go running off to one of my competitors.”

  Jallis raised his eyebrows. “Does that mean you think I’m some other kind of asshole?”

  “I don’t know.” I leaned against the wall and folded my arms beneath my breasts. “You seem to be the kind of man who likes taking other women on rides to make your girlfriend jealous.”

  “What?” Jallis looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Do you really think that’s what this is about? That I’m spending time with you just to get under Aria’s skin?”

  The outrage in his voice seemed so genuine that for a moment, I faltered. “I know the two of you have been together for years,” I said, mentally regaining my footing. “And I saw the way she looked at me when you first offered to take me up. She’s made it clear to me that you belong to her.”

  Jallis made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “Maybe I did once, but that was before—”

  A low growl interrupted us, and the hairs on my arms stood straight on end. Instantly, Jallis and I both went dead silent as we swiveled toward the sound. It seemed to be coming from one of the archways leading into the other rooms.

  “Jallis.” I mouthed his name, frantically motioning for him to follow me. We needed to get out of here. Now.

  Jallis rose from the bench, but instead of walking toward me, he moved toward the arch. “What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, grabbing for his arm. A large, shadowy figure moved in the room beyond, and my blood turned to ice as it let out another low growl.

  “It’s all right,” he said as the creature stepped into the chamber. My heart thundered as the light caught its thick blue pelt, its glowing yellow eyes, and the vestigial fin that jutted between its shoulders, a relic of evolution it had not yet discarded. Its muzzle bared in a snarl, exposing rows of shark-like teeth, and its paws sported thick, silver-tipped claws that clacked ominously with each limping step it took.

  Limping. The word echoed in my head. It’s injured.

  “Jallis!” I lunged forward and seized his arm. “We can outrun it. Let’s go!”

  I yanked him back, and the animal let out an ear-splitting howl that shook the walls. My heart leapt into my throat as I sprinted down the hall, dragging a protesting Jallis with me.

  “Stop!” he yelled, trying to yank me to a halt. “I can stop him!”

  “There’s no stopping that!” I yelled as we careened around a corridor. Why, oh why, hadn’t I thought to bring a crossbow? I had my daggers, but they wouldn’t do much against a matchkin. His pelt was far too thick for the small blades to do much harm.

  The matchkin slammed into the wall, unable to turn its body fast enough with that lame front leg impeding it. Dust rained from the ceiling as I pumped my legs, my breath sawing in my lungs. If we could just make a few more turns like that, tire it out—

  “STOP!”

  Jallis dug his heels in, bringing us both to a screeching halt. I tried to drag him forward again, but he evaded my grip, and hurried back down the corridor.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I snarled. The matchkin stumbled toward us—it was frothing at the mouth with hunger, eyes wild, but it was obvious that its leg was giving it a great deal of trouble.

  “Stop shouting, Zara.” Jallis’s voice was calm, serene, even. “I’ve got this.”

  The surety in his tone made me pause, and against every instinct screaming in my brain, I listened. Holding my breath, I watched as Jallis approached the injured animal, his motions slow, his hands outstretched.

  “Easy,” he said, his voice low, soothing. The matchkin had come to a halt, bristling, but it looked like it could barely stand. Jallis moved a bit closer, and it let out another snarl. Or at least it was supposed to be a snarl. This one sounded more like a pained whine, not half as frightening as the bone-chilling sound it had made earlier.

  “That’s it,” Jallis said. “You’re all right. We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

  The matchkin’s yellow eyes went hazy, as if Jallis’s words were lulling it into a trance. Slowly, it sank to the ground, and my mouth dropped open when it rolled onto its back, exposing its stomach.

  “Good boy,” Jallis crooned, kneeling beside it. He gently stroked the animal’s fluffy underbelly, meeting my eyes over his great head. “You’re not going to hurt us, are you?”

  Carefully, I reached for the dagger tucked into my right boot, just in case whatever sorcery Jallis was using to calm the beast failed. But just as I touched the hilt, the matchkin lifted its head, baring those shark teeth as he snarled at me.

  “All right, all right!” I straightened hastily, holding my palms out. “Backing away now.”

  “Actually,” Jallis said, “I’m going to need you to come over here.”

  “Like hell.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t know how you got that thing to trust you, Jallis, but I have no such faith that he’s not going to bite my head off.”

  Jallis rolled his eyes. “He’s not going to bite you unless you reach for that dagger again. I have him under control.”

  “How?” I demanded.

  “My talent.” He said the word as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Animal husbandry. Now get over here.”

  “All dragon riders have a talent.” Tavarian’s words echoed in my mind, and something clicked. “We still carry a spark of magic from our mage ancestors, and it manifests itself in different ways.”

  Casting aside my misgivings, I carefully approached the matchkin and sunk to my knees next to Jallis. He was cradling the animal’s giant paw in his lap, inspecting an area just above it that was caked with matted blood.

  “It’s all right,” he cooed as he gently parted the fur with his hand. The matchkin whined, and I nearly gagged as a horrible stench wafted from the wound. “It’s infected.”

  “No shit.” I covered my nose with my hand. “No wonder it’s stuck down here.” Matchkins usually traveled and hunted in packs. It was extremely rare to stumble across one alone. He’d probably fallen down another hole that led to this underground palace and was too injured to climb out.

  “We’re going to need to clean this out and bandage it,” Jallis said. He pulled a canteen of water out of his pack. “Zara, can you hold his leg down for me?”

  I glanced warily at the matchkin, but his eyes were closed tight with pain, and his face was pointed away from us. “How do I know he isn’t going to bite me in half?”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  Bracing myself, I went around to the other side of the matchkin’s leg and gripped it. I locked down my muscles to hide my trembling, and hoped like hell the animal was too distracted to scent my fear. Putting my back to that thing’s teeth went against every instinct I had, and part of me wondered why I was doing this. Helping the matchkin was obviously important to Jallis for some reason, but I barely knew the guy. Why was I risking my life for this?

  “Here we go,” Jallis said. He poured water onto the wound, washing away layers of pus and blood. “You’re doing great,” he said as the matchkin whined, using a strip of bandage to clean out the wound. “Just hang in there.”

  I wasn’t sure if the matchkin could actually understand Jallis, or if it was merely his tone of voice, but it worked. The animal relaxed as Jallis finished cleaning out the wound. I helped him apply a poultice to the cleaned area and then wrap it up using Jallis’s neckcloth.

  “All done.” Jallis replaced the tin of poultice and the empty can
teen in his pack and motioned for me to let go. “Now,” he said, putting his hands on his hips as he stood up, “how the hell are we going to get you out of here?”

  “That was insane. Absolutely, positively insane.”

  Jallis chuckled, his chest rumbling against my back as we flew back to Dragon’s Table. “If by insane, you mean amazing, then yes, it was.” He paused for a minute. “I can’t believe we actually figured out how to airlift that beast out of there.”

  “I can’t believe we didn’t get eaten,” I countered, but a grin tugged at my lips. Scrounging up some rope and canvas I’d left behind from the last expedition, we’d managed to rig a kind of litter for the matchkin, and with Kadryn’s help, had lifted him out through the hole in the dome we’d entered through. The matchkin hadn’t been thrilled about the dragon, and indeed, I had the distinct feeling Kadryn would have eaten him if he’d been allowed. But in the end, it had all worked out, and the animal had disappeared into the woods, hopefully to rejoin his pack.

  “I told you you’d be fine,” Jallis said. He was silent for a moment, and then added, in an odd voice, “Thanks for trusting me, by the way.”

  “It was the least I could do,” I said. “You trusted me. For all you knew I could have been leading you to my secret lair so I could tie you down and have my way with you.”

  Jallis laughed. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” I shivered at the husky note in his voice. “But I’m glad you took me to the palace instead. That was truly amazing.”

  I shook my head. “I thought that I was going to wow you,” I said ruefully, “but instead you wowed me. Have you ever had to tame a beast like that before?”

  “Not exactly,” Jallis admitted. “One time when we were in Minacco, a timla snake snuck in through the open window of our hotel room. I was six years old, and my mother nearly had apoplexy when she walked in and found me playing with it on the bed. She grabbed a dagger from her boot and skewered it in the head from five feet away.”

  “Sounds like your mother has excellent aim.” I suppressed a shudder at the thought of six-year-old Jallis playing with that giant snake. Timla snakes could change colors to blend in with their surroundings and could grow up to eight feet long and a foot thick.

  “She does,” Jallis said wryly. “Too good. I had been thinking up ways to convince my parents to take the snake home with us when she walked in. Its death traumatized me for weeks.”

  I bit back a laugh, knowing that even though he spoke lightly, he meant every word. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said. “But at the same time, I guess I’m grateful you had some experience dealing with wild animals.”

  Jallis nodded. “I know you thought I was crazy when I walked up to that matchkin,” he said, “but dealing with it wasn’t much different than dealing with the timla, or with a spooked horse, or even a cranky dragon. It’s hard to explain how my talent works, but I’m able to reach out and soothe them with my voice. It’s like stroking their brains with a comforting hand or wrapping them up in a warm blanket.”

  We didn’t speak for a long time after that, content to simply enjoy the ride and each other’s company. But Dragon’s Table finally came into view. When Jallis helped me dismount, he took my hands in his and met my gaze with an intensity that made my heart flip-flop again.

  “What you said earlier, about me wanting to make Aria jealous.” He took a deep breath. “You’re not exactly wrong.”

  My cheeks grew warm again. “You don’t have to explain—”

  “But I do.” He shook his head, looking conflicted. “It’s true that Aria and I have been together for a long time. So long, in fact, that I don’t seem to know how to think, how to speak, how to breathe without wondering what she’ll think about it. But Aria and I aren’t together anymore, and I wanted to prove that to her. I wanted to show her that just because she showed up for practice that day, expecting me to give her a ride, didn’t mean that she was entitled. That she can’t just use me and throw me away, and then expect me to give her what she wants.”

  His eyes briefly flashed with anger, and I was tempted to poke at that wound, to see what secrets might come spilling out of it. “But when I came to you today, Zara,” he went on, “it wasn’t about Aria at all. I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to be the first to take you into the skies on a dragon. The way your eyes lit up when I offered my hand to you, the way you looked at my dragon when we first met, I wanted more of that.” He stepped closer, cupping my cheek with his hand. “I still do.”

  Warmth rushed through me at his words, at the sensation of his rough hand on my skin, at the banked fire glowing in those leaf green eyes of his. “Well,” I managed in a strangled voice, “you certainly know how to make a woman feel good about herself.”

  He brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, and sparks skipped across my skin. “Does that mean you’ll fly with me again?”

  “It means you’re more than welcome to knock on my door whenever you want to go on an adventure.” I gave him a peck on the cheek, then lightly skipped out of his embrace. “Thanks for the ride, Jallis.”

  I headed into the building and shut the door between us. And only when I was certain he couldn’t see me, when I was certain no one could see me, did I let that goofy grin that had been threatening for the last ten minutes finally spread over my face.

  12

  “I still can’t believe you went flying without me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I groaned, leaning my head against the wall in Lessie’s stall. Last night, when I’d come to tuck Lessie in before going to bed, I tried to tell her about my adventure with Jallis. But the moment she found out I’d gone flying without her, she’d been furious and had promptly kicked me out of her stall. Apparently, flying on the back of another dragon was akin to cheating on a significant other, and the insult had been compounded by the fact that Lessie had been looking forward to being the one to take me up into the air for the first time.

  “I suppose I can’t blame you for wanting to go,” Lessie said sourly as she wolfed down another steak. I’d filched them from the kitchens before heading out to see her—the peace offering had done the trick, and she’d let me in with only minor grumbling. “That dragon rider is very good-looking—for a human. He has eyes like gemstones.” Her own eyes briefly gleamed.

  I chuckled. “His good looks weren’t actually the deciding factor. But they certainly helped.”

  Cautiously, I proceeded to tell her about the adventure. Despite her annoyance with me, Lessie was extremely interested—I could feel her excitement as I described the underground palace, and especially when I told her about the encounter with the matchkin.

  “You definitely should have brought me with you,” Lessie said. “I am small enough to go underground with you, and I could have torched the beast and had myself a nice meal.”

  I snorted. “Maybe, but I don’t think Jallis would have been very happy about that.”

  “From what you say, it seems that he has a soft spot for animals.” Lessie gave a rumbling sigh as she finished the last of her food and flopped down in the hay. The sound was somewhere between contentment and melancholy. “The other dragons have told me stories about the outside world, Zara, and I want to see it. I want to see matchkins and khrouses, oceans and mountains, jungles and cities. I want to see it all.”

  The ache in Lessie’s voice spoke to a familiar part of me, the one that was constantly afflicted by wanderlust. “We will,” I promised, stroking her neck. “And when you’re strong enough to fly, the four of us can go on an adventure together.”

  Lessie lifted her head. “Really?” For the first time, she sounded perky. “That would be nice. We wouldn’t have to wait until I’m big enough to carry you.”

  “Exactly!” I grinned at her. “See? Letting me ride another dragon isn’t so bad after all.”

  Lessie huffed. “Maybe. But it will likely be at least a month before I’m strong enough to fly, and probably longer than that to go any great distance without
needing breaks to rest.” She rolled over onto her back with another sigh. “I want to go somewhere now.”

  I gave her a bemused look. Lessie was an odd creature—she often spoke with a wisdom and vocabulary well beyond her years, and yet there were moments like this when she acted like a petulant child. I had to remind myself constantly that she really was still a baby, and that even though she had the other dragons to play with, she still needed me.

  “Why don’t we go exploring together?” I suggested. “I know we can’t fly anywhere, but you’re still small enough that we can walk the grounds together.”

  Lessie was silent for a moment. “I’d like that,” she said cautiously. “I think I’d like that very much.”

  I thought the stable master might protest when I told him that I was taking Lessie for a walk, but he merely nodded. “Make sure you mind where she treads,” he warned as Lessie hopped over the gate and landed next to me. “Those claws are excellent at tearing up flower beds.”

  We took off down the hill, and Lessie shot way ahead, her graceful, sinuous form much faster than me. Rather than trying to keep up, I let her run, then called her back with my mind when it looked like she was about to disappear from view. The first time I did it, she resisted, and I had to exercise my will more strongly to get her to comply. But the second time was a bit easier, and it soon turned into both an exercise and a game—a test of the bond between us, to see just how far Lessie could push, and just how hard I had to pull.

  Eventually Lessie moved on to showing me tricks. She would scamper up the back of a boulder, then launch herself off and glide to the ground. I was impressed by her improvement—she could glide a good ten feet—and I wondered if it really would take her a month before she could fly. Her ability to adapt and grow was almost mind-boggling at times, especially when on one of her launches, she managed to do a little twist in the air before landing.