by Shae Ford
But she held on desperately to the moment. It wasn’t until her words struck that the world came crashing down.
“Jake has been taken from us. He is being held in Midlan.”
CHAPTER 48
Another Horizon
There were windows set high into the walls above her. The warmth spilling in through their faces was a welcome relief from the cold stone on her back. Kyleigh kept her eyes shut tightly as the last of the fire left her bones — her mind fixed upon a single, steadying thought:
Kael was all right. There’d been a few hours when the Kingdom had shaken, when the colors of the world began to fade. But Kyleigh had never doubted for a moment that he would survive.
Now when her eyes opened, they sharpened upon colors that were warm and fierce. The evening sun poured down upon her through a strain of glass. It cloaked the grand room, washing the vaults of the ceiling and the flattened tops of the cobblestone in gold. Even the mortar lines were stirred to brilliance beneath its light: they seemed to glow and pulse when the colors touched them — the veins of some quiet, unshakeable beast.
Kyleigh’s chest swelled along with the colors. Her strength came storming back. There would be a moment when her captors blinked, when they lowered their guard. Several days had passed while she waited to find a crack in Midlan’s armor. At most, she thought she might only have to wait a few days more.
But it was taking everything she had to stay patient.
“How do you feel, Dragongirl? Are you feeling more obedient?”
Ulric’s voice swam up to her through a haze of pain. Every bone in her body had been snapped from its place, her muscles stretched to breaking. She’d bared her teeth as her skin split against the rise of her scales — but she never once cried out.
She refused to give him anything to grin about. No matter how many times Ulric forced her body between its shapes, she would never make a sound.
“I’m feeling a bit bored, to be honest,” Kyleigh said the moment she caught her breath. Her limbs shook so badly that she knew trying to stand would give her away. Instead, she sprawled out where she’d collapsed upon the floor and tucked her hands behind her head. “You’d think the King’s archmage would be able to come up with something a little more exciting than changing shapes.”
“Is having your every bone crushed not exciting enough?” Ulric said.
Kyleigh shrugged. “I suppose I was just looking forward to the freezing and the singeing — you know, the more complicated spells.”
There was nothing Ulric hated more than having his spells insulted. She supposed that was why he’d gone crawling to Crevan in the first place: as long as all the mages in the realm were bound, there would be no one left to laugh at him.
So Kyleigh resolved to laugh as much as she could. “It’s my own blasted fault, really. I came in expecting so much from the archmage that I forgot about the fact that he’s never been anything more than a potion vendor —”
“I’ve become far more than that,” Ulric said sharply.
She studied him for a moment — which gave her the breath she needed to stop her legs from twitching. “You had one brilliant idea a long while ago. But the curse itself leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it?” She tugged pensively on her collar and had to fight to keep her face smooth as the magic bit her. “I’d say it’s rather shoddy, at best.”
“Shoddy?”
“At best,” Kyleigh corrected him. “At worst, I think it does more harm than good. Look at you,” she forced herself to grin, “you’re sweating more than I am.”
That seemed to push him over the edge.
Ulric’s eyes bulged and the tips of his overgrown ears turned red. She swore the beads of sweat that rolled off his chin hissed as they struck the already-darkened ring around his collar. When he spoke, his words sounded as if he’d strained them through his jutting teeth:
“Well, perhaps I ought to make this a little more … challenging.”
Kyleigh held her grin as he stomped towards her. She had to force herself not to look at the spell that flared upon the tips of his fingers, not to think about what sort of horror was coming for her next.
Ulric’s dark eyes shone mercilessly from the deep pits of his skull. The light of the spell struck his face and gave his skin a burning sheen. He fixed the spell between her eyes, nearly blinding her with its glow. But just before he could loose it, one of his bat-like ears began to twitch.
The spell shrank back. Ulric glared and ground his teeth until the twitching stopped. He brought the spell back to life — just as his ear twitched again. “What?” he snapped, spinning to glare at the wall. “Figure it out for yourself. I’m in the middle of —”
Something like a roll of thunder boomed over his words. It shook the grand room and blasted the glass from its windows. Kyleigh threw an arm over her head as a storm of razor shards fell down upon them. When the storm ended and the thunder’s echo faded, she looked up and saw a thick cloud of purple smoke rolling through a row of shattered windows.
Ulric scrambled back from the smoke, nearly tripping over Kyleigh in his rush to get away. But it evaporated quickly — disappearing before it struck the ground.
“Take the Dragongirl to the northern tower. Do not let her out of your sight,” Ulric screamed, jabbing his finger into a darkened corner of the room. Then he grabbed Kyleigh by the front of her jerkin.
There were little bits of glass stuck into his face and neck. It was obvious by how many veins bulged from his head that he was trying to lift her. But his feeble arms had no chance against her bones. “Should I come up a bit?”
“I don’t care what the King says,” Ulric growled, bringing his sopping, bloody face a mere inch from hers. “When I get back, I’m going to send you to the under-realm — in pieces.”
“As long as you promise to make the journey interesting.”
Ulric’s roar faded into swears as he stormed from the grand room. The spell that burst from his hand knocked the door off its hinges — and sent the guards on the other side sprinting from his path.
Kyleigh grinned when she heard the clattering of more doors being blasted away, as Ulric’s swears became more potent and inventive. She didn’t know what had caused the explosion, but it was obvious that Ulric was rattled by it. Perhaps her moment had finally come.
She was so busy listening that she didn’t hear the slight noise of the man from the shadowed corner padding to her side. “You’re brave, Kyleigh.”
She looked up and saw that Devin stood over her, watching intently. “No, I’m simply annoyed. Ulric’s such a twit that I feel bad if I don’t heckle him.”
“He’s going to find out, you know. He’ll hurt you until you let him in.” Devin scratched at the spines that’d begun to sprout from the dark crop of his hair. He looked away, and a shadow crossed his eyes as he added: “He’ll figure out what hurts you the most … and then it’ll get worse. The curse will tighten, you won’t be able to fight it off so easily. Not even the pain will clear your head. You’ll just be trapped … trapped forever. Hold on for as long as you can.”
Kyleigh knew what he meant. In the moments her pain was fiercest, she’d been able to hear it: the noise of hundreds of voices filling her ears at once. They wrapped her in a cloud of their worries, their fears. They drained her of all hope. She felt as if she sat upon the edge of sleep, while the voices tried to drag her under.
But she knew there would be no rest in the world that waited beyond — only torment.
“He can’t kill you, just so you know. He’s as trapped as we are.” Devin crouched at her head. Though his gaze was soft, there seemed to be about a thousand little thoughts swirling inside the stark blues. “I’ll never understand why someone so powerful would choose to be bound.”
“Is that what he told you? I’ve known Ulric for quite some time,” Kyleigh said when he nodded. “And I can assure you it’s far more likely that he sold himself on accident than on purpose.”
“Real
ly?”
“His potions certainly never worked.”
Devin was quiet for a moment. He grimaced when his collar flared red — the jab of Ulric’s command. “Come on. Let’s get you to the tower.”
He pulled her onto her feet with ease. The curse had stretched him so tall that Kyleigh’s head didn’t quite reach the bottom of his chest. As they made their way through Midlan’s winding halls, Devin had to walk half-bent most of the way — and at a full duck for the rest of it.
Midlan had been built for warriors. Its halls were wide enough for armored men to walk side-by-side, and so long that they felt more like roadways than anything. Well, she supposed they were roadways: the entire region of Midlan fit within three layers of walls, and there were passages connecting everything from the ramparts to the throne room.
It’d been a long while since Kyleigh had walked through Midlan, but she never remembered it being quite so jammed.
Stewards darted from room to room, moving at a brisk, shuffling pace. Soldiers charged through, bellowing for clear passage. The servants plastered themselves against the walls so frequently to make way that she thought it might be days before they reached the kitchens.
An intoxicating scent filled every stretch of the air — a potent mix of excitement and fear. Kyleigh breathed it in, and the dragon woke with an exhilarated hum. There was no better place to start a little mischief than in the midst of chaos.
Though all of Midlan was clearly in an uproar, no one seemed willing to come too close to Devin. Servants balked at the sight of him and bolted behind the nearest door. The soldiers edged past him warily, their necks turned out of his reach. They came around a corner and nearly ran smack into a steward coming from the other side.
The poor man had to shuffle backwards for several feet before he found a door to jump through.
At last, Devin stopped at the base of some winding stairs. They were tight, with just enough room for a man to walk through comfortably — which meant the climb would be far from comfortable for Devin.
“I can’t let you out of my sight, remember?” he grunted as he squeezed in behind her. “This’ll have to do.”
“All right. Just watch your horns.”
He smiled uncertainly at her wink.
The tower was a small, rounded room filled with all sorts of books and instruments. There were char marks on the walls and large chips in the stone floor. What little remained of the curtains were tattered — and heavily singed on their bottoms.
But at least there were windows.
From where she stood, Kyleigh had a good look at the northern reaches of Midlan. Its outermost walls stretched to nearly touch the swamps. The falling sun drifted through the trees and brightened them. They seemed far less like drooping, pitiful things with the evening set beside them.
Rows of barracks filled the land between Midlan’s walls like houses. Tiny dots of soldiers rushed from their doorways as Kyleigh watched. She expected them to climb the towers, man the ramparts. But only a few stayed behind.
The rest moved as fast as their legs would carry them for the western walls. How quickly the sunlight blinked off their armor told her most were moving at a sprint. She stuck her head out to follow them, just to see if she could catch a glimpse of the west.
But her collar bit down with a burning force the second her head crossed the window’s ledge. She stepped back with a gasp.
“What is it?” Devin said as he crouched in beside her.
Kyleigh shook her head. “It’s nothing. I like this hour of the day, is all.”
“You always have.”
She stiffened the moment his voice went deep. Hairs rose down the back of her neck when his arms curled around her waist. He pulled her onto his knee and rested his spiny chin atop her head.
Kyleigh knew she would have to be careful. The man who held her now wasn’t Devin — it wasn’t a man at all.
It was Dorcha.
“How many ages has it been since we watched the coming of the night? For how many journeys of the sun have we stood apart? The stars must’ve danced above me countless times … but I saw not a one.” His lips moved to her ear as he growled: “The night has no meaning without my heart.”
When his arms tightened, Kyleigh swallowed hard. “Dorcha, please —”
“You must remember them. Surely, you remember.” He turned her around. The yellow heat of his gaze dug into her, searching. “I haven’t forgotten a single night you lay by my side.”
“She’s gone,” Kyleigh said quietly. She was prepared for the fires to rage, but had to brace herself when they suddenly faded back. “Your mate is gone, Dorcha. She left the moment the Tree called her soul away. We’ve become a new creature, she and I — a halfdragon with new memories, and a new heart.”
“That … human?” Dorcha hissed. His glare roared to life at her nod. “You cannot possibly feel anything for him. He’s weak, and a fool.”
“He isn’t weak,” Kyleigh said back. “He can be a bit of a fool sometimes, but so can I.”
“You are never foolish.”
“Yes, I am. It’s the human in me — I like to think it keeps things interesting.”
Dorcha shoved her off his knee with a snarl. “Your human is dead. I crushed his body in the swamps.”
Kyleigh met his glare with one of her own. She didn’t care a whit for Dorcha. He was an angry creature who clung to his past like a drunkard to grog: it would kill him slowly, poison him from the center of his heart. She could see the darkness growing in his eyes even now. The curse would eventually snuff his fire out.
If Dorcha’s soul were to dry up and blow away, the Kingdom wouldn’t have lost a blasted thing. But Devin was a different matter.
Though he had every right to be angry, he didn’t give in. The darkness had no hold upon his eyes. There was so much good in him — an almost childlike yearning in his stare. She truly believed that he wanted nothing more than to be at peace with those around him.
He would even give in to Dorcha, in the end. He would step back rather than battle through the dragon’s rage. And the moment he refused to fight, Dorcha would trounce him with his stronger will.
So Kyleigh decided to fight for him.
“You didn’t kill my mate. I would’ve felt it the moment he passed. His death would’ve crushed me, stolen all the light from my world —”
Dorcha grabbed her around the throat, every line of his face alive with fury. “Do not insult the valtas! You could not possibly share such a powerful bond with so small a creature.”
“I do.”
Red bloomed across Dorcha’s flesh as he hissed: “You lie. The valtas cannot be broken.”
“And it never was. Your-Dorcha loved you to her end. But she’s gone,” Kyleigh said quietly. She tried not to squirm when Dorcha tightened his hold. “Whatever there was between you passed away the moment her spirit fled her bones —”
“No! It hasn’t passed! You may try to keep her from me, but the valtas cannot be stopped.” He ripped his hand from her throat and slammed his fist into the wall beside her, rattling the stone. His eyes slipped closer to the edge of darkness — to the maddened, shining black of the curse as he screamed: “I will meet her again in my death!”
Kyleigh didn’t flinch. Seeing the black in his eyes so clearly meant that Devin was running out of time. She couldn’t afford to take a moment to be frightened.
Instead, she reached out and touched Dorcha’s fist. Her fingers brushed across the scars that lined his knuckles — the shining marks left by the trail of her blood. “If Your-Dorcha was still here, wouldn’t she fight for you? Wouldn’t her heart speak the truth?”
Kyleigh slid her fingers down the scars to the edge of the wall. Blood welled inside the crack where his fingers met the stone. She stopped at its edge and steadied herself with a breath. “If you won’t believe me … then at least believe the valtas.”
Though she knew the pain was coming, the fires of his blood still shocked her.
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br /> Thousands of white-hot needles stung her flesh. They bit down upon her fingertips with such force that for a moment, she thought they’d been severed. But then the pain spread: it leaked up her bones until her hand shook with the throb.
When she cried out, Dorcha grabbed her wrist and brought her close. He used the ragged hem of his tunic to wipe the blood away. His lips pulled back from his teeth and agony stung his eyes, but at least the darkness was gone.
He stared dully at the blisters that rose across her fingers. “It’s true,” he whispered finally. “I would’ve fought for My-Dorcha with every breath of my lungs, every beat of my heart. The valtas’ promise would’ve given me the strength I needed to endure any span of time, any edge of torment. But it’s … left me, hasn’t it?”
“No,” Kyleigh said quietly. “No, the valtas will never leave — you’ll always carry it in your soul. And one day you’ll find a creature to share it with. But you can’t keep pushing Devin aside. He belongs to this body as much as you do. His heart is equally important. You’ll never find your purpose without him.”
Kyleigh smiled when Dorcha looked away. The pain sharpened her eyes, cleared her head. For the first time in days, she could no longer feel the collar …
And she planned to make the most of it.
“What purpose?” Dorcha whispered. His hand trembled as it hovered above the iron around his throat; his brows cinched tightly. “I have no purpose, now. There is no longer any need for my fire, no reason left to fight —”
“Fight for Devin.” Kyleigh pressed a fist against his heart and held his eyes tightly. “Fight for each other. No curse can last forever — it’s going to be over sooner than you think. And once you’re free, you’ll have to set your eyes on another horizon.”
“What horizon?” he moaned.
Kyleigh shrugged. “I’m not sure … but I suppose the two of you can discuss it when you wake.”
Dorcha must’ve been too lost in a vat of self-pity to see Kyleigh’s fist. He didn’t fight her. His body hung limply and he let himself wither beneath her blows. The first staggered him, the second dropped him to his knees. A third caught him under the chin and sent him into a reeling sleep.
