Unleash the Inferno (Heart of a Dragon Book 3)

by Tamara Shoemaker

  Will mix amid the long night's dew.

  Amulet, before us so,

  By the Stars' might, thou must go.

  Behind Kayeck, the four Great Dragons stepped from the watery marsh onto solid ground, moving into the circle of light cast by the fire. Their eyes were full of deep and ancient knowledge.

  Overhead, in the night sky, clouds formed—rolling, towering ones that flickered with light, blocking out the stars.

  Heaviness weighted the air. The Amulet resting on the rock beside Ayden glowed brightly in the darkness, the eye staring, glazed orange.

  Silver flashed in Kayeck's grip. Ayden flinched as she moved closer to him, the elaborately carved, jeweled Seer Fey knife—the blade from the original Bond—steady in her withered and lined hand.

  “Beneath the Stars, the Amulet roves,” she murmured, reaching for the wooden trinket. Sparks flashed as her hand closed over it.

  “Beneath the Stars, the End is reached.” She picked up Ayden's arm with her other hand, pressed it against the rock, and pushed the point of the knife into the tender underside.

  Pain nearly blinded Ayden as he struggled not to cry out. He was sweating, and his free hand turned clammy.

  Kayeck etched a triangle in his wrist, pressing the Amulet into the blood that welled up and gushed across his hand. She held it there, untying her sash with her other hand and wrapping it around Ayden's wrist, binding the Amulet to him.

  “Beneath the Stars, the Amulet sated,” she murmured, releasing his wrist.

  Blood still flowed freely, despite the bandage. In the spaces between the bindings, Ayden could see the fiery orange of the Amulet begin to glow red, the color of his blood.

  His limbs wavered; it wouldn't take him long to bleed out at the rate the blood poured from his arm.

  Silence blanketed the clearing, or perhaps it was simply that thickness settled on Ayden's senses as he slumped by the fire. Slowly, he eased onto his back, his free hand reaching for Luasa's muzzle, stroking it as she held vigil over him, as the four Great Dragons kept quiet in this eternity of pain, and as Kayeck waited and waited.

  The clouds roiled high above, dark and menacing, swirling into a spiral, but in the edges between the clouds, Ayden could see the Stars, and he focused on them instead of the pain that coursed through his body.

  It was numbing, slowly.

  He wondered how much time had passed. It seemed he had been here forever, by this fire, with the Amulet blazing against his arm, and his blood saturating it. Sating it, Kayeck had said.

  He thought of Kinna. He supposed there had been a battle. Hadn't there?

  He closed his eyes, and in the flicker of firelight, he saw Kinna's flame red hair, waving like a flag behind his eyelids. She held something in her arms, a bundle of blankets. A tiny fist emerged, nestling against her neck, and Ayden suddenly couldn't breathe.

  A babe.

  Kinna held a babe in her arms.

  The corners of her mouth lifted as she gazed down at the tiny infant, and her hand covered the fist on her neck. Pure contentment exuded from her expression.

  She was beautiful. Breathtaking and heart-breaking, all in one simple image.

  Out of his reach.

  A tear formed, welling, growing, seeping along the edge of his lashes, tumbling over his skin, past his temple, lodging in his hair.

  He'd wanted her. By the Stars, he still did.

  The pain from the Amulet, though steady and intense, lessened in comparison to the agony in his heart.

  He prayed for a quick death.

  Someone touched his wrist, and he flinched. He'd thought he was numb there, but the pain was like a knife lit with Dragonfire. It seared his skin.

  “Beneath the Stars, free the Dragons,” the croak murmured.

  The Amulet was gone; someone had taken it.

  Ayden blinked, and the cold night air pressed around him. Flames, not from the bonfire, flickered along his arm, searing his tunic, burning him.

  Kayeck held the Amulet, and she trekked to the other side of the fire, near the marsh, where the four Great Dragons waited.

  The flash of silver again caught the firelight as she raised her knife above the Great Poison-Quill's muzzle.

  “Beneath the Stars, for Freedom!” she called, lowering the knife, cutting into the Dragon's snout, not deeply, but enough to bring a spate of blood. It welled over his muzzle, dripping into the dirt. A rumble shook the Poison-Quill's throat, but he made no protest. Kayeck laid the Amulet on the Dragon's hide, holding it there, stilling the Dragon, stilling herself, sating the Amulet.

  “Beneath the Stars, for Equality!” she shouted, moving on to the Nine-Tail, bringing her knife down in his hide. The Dragon flinched, but made no sound, holding himself still as the Amulet soaked up his blood.

  The Mirage held his proud head high, only moving it closer when Kayeck held out a proffered hand. “Beneath the Stars, for Amity!” Flames hissed from his mouth, burning the sleeve of Kayeck's mantle, smothering beneath the blood that welled and poured over her cloak.

  The firelight flickered across the Amulet in her hand. It had grown bigger than her palm and fingers put together.

  Ayden struggled to sit up. His head spun, but he was determined to watch the ceremony to its close.

  The Ember roared when Kayeck reached him, but obediently lowered his head to the knife. “Beneath the Stars, for future generations!”

  The Amulet held its place on the great Dragon's muzzle, growing larger with every bit of blood it drank.

  Kayeck pulled it free and stepped back to the fire, murmuring unknown words as she held the Seer Fey blade and the Amulet high. “May our kinds walk separately, but together, in peace, without obligation. May we know the pleasure of one another's company, but the satisfaction of living our lives without bondage! Beneath the Stars, may it be so!”

  She edged her knife across her own wrist, and blood welled, running down her flesh over her veined and lined hand. She held the Amulet against it. Her mouth tightened with pain.

  The Amulet smoked and sizzled. It was now so large, it took up most of the space between her palm and her elbow. The eye was plainly visible in the clearing.

  It's red iris searched the sky above them, flashing, and when it centered on Ayden, flames flickered across its surface.

  Fire rippled through Ayden in response, erupting into tongues of flame that ate at the flesh of his arms, taunting him with the control he no longer had in his weakness, searing him with their pain.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cedric

  Cedric found the King on the ground, screaming hysterically at a smattering of soldiers who stood in front of him, frantically waving at two Dragons who snapped at them. Sebastian's mad shouts grew more and more hoarse as the furor in the skies gave way to obvious victory for the rebels.

  “Down, Ember!” Cedric called, and it was almost ridiculously easy for Ember to pluck the man from the ground with his talons and boost him to the skies. Ember did not pull the shrieking King up toward Cedric, instead dangling him below and racing for the ridge and northward toward where the ritual was to take place.

  Sperah flew at their side, Ashleen carefully guiding the Dragon low along the ridges. In the distance, long past the headquarters and the swarming mass of soldiers and wounded, Cedric spotted the flickering light of a bonfire.

  “There,” he called to Ashleen, and together, they guided the Embers down to land less than half a fieldspan from the fire.

  Sebastian rolled forward as the Dragon touched down, his momentum checked at last by the trunk of a great fir tree. Ashleen leaped from Sperah's back, her bow at the ready, and she sprinted toward the King before he could gather his senses, her arrow between his eyes.

  “Up, Sebastian,” Cedric said.

  “How dare—”

  “GET UP!” Cedric drew his knife and advanced, and Sebastian scrambled to his feet, his eyes on the blade, fear etching his face. Silence weighed heavy on the group before he finally t
urned to face the glimmering light in the distance. “March,” Cedric commanded.

  Sebastian did, though his face was red with anger and exertion.

  As they neared the fire, Cedric wished he didn't have to be there, but the responsibility of a kingdom pulled him forward. He tightened his grip on his knife, firming his resolve.

  They reached the clearing, edging out of the trees.

  Kayeck looked up from across the bonfire and smiled. “Ah, Sebastian,” she said, nodding to the prisoner. “It seems you have come at the perfect time. Thank you, Cedric.” Sebastian, at the end of Cedric's knife, let out a low growl. Ashleen stood beside them both, her bowstring pulled back, her arrow still nocked, pointing at the base of Sebastian's neck.

  Kayeck barked a laugh. “You have done well.” She held up the Amulet, showing it to them. The trinket was now a huge, round, dripping mass that pulsed with need. The strongest draw Cedric felt yet came from its direction, almost physically pulling him toward it.

  No! He steadied his feet, planting them hard into the soil.

  Ayden, ashen-faced, leaned against Luasa's foreleg. His arms were on fire, and blood pooled beneath him. Alarmed, Cedric turned his attention back to Kayeck. He was about to speak, but Kayeck moved toward them, the Amulet gripped in her gnarled fingertips.

  The closer the object came, the more it terrified Cedric. His eyes widened as she drew closer, and the pull, the compulsion to touch it, intensified.

  No, no, no, stay back!

  Ashleen didn't move. Her gaze stayed trained along her arrow; she never took her attention from Sebastian. “Courage, Cedric,” she said. “We're nearly there.”

  Kayeck stopped in front of Sebastian, whose glance flicked nervously to Ayden and then to the four Great Dragons, whose throats now issued menacing grumbles.

  “Your arm, Sebastian,” Kayeck said.

  Silence stretched. Sebastian didn't move. “If I refuse?” he finally demanded.

  Ashleen lowered her aim and released her arrow. It plunged into his shoulder.

  Sebastian howled like a banshee. Ashleen calmly drew another arrow from her quiver and nocked it on the bowstring, training her gaze on the back of his neck.

  Sebastian, gasping in pain, hurled his arm forward, and Cedric sucked in a horrified breath, reaching out a helpless hand to stop whichever of the Touches Sebastian had decided to use.

  He needn't have bothered. Nothing came from Sebastian's hand.

  To the side, the flames on Ayden's arms burned more brightly. All at once, they smothered, and crystals of ice flaked over his arms, spreading, and thickening.

  Sebastian had seen it, too. “What's happening?” he gasped.

  Kayeck chuckled. “The Amulet is no longer solely yours and Ayden's, oh King. It is now filtering its final Touches through each of you, and while Ayden holds one end, you hold the other. He manifests the presence of them, you manifest the lack.”

  Cedric suddenly understood. The Touches that manifested themselves violently on Ayden just as persistently refused to manifest themselves on Sebastian's flesh. He was powerless to use them as the ceremony progressed, and once the ceremony ended, thus, too, ended the Amulet. Its Touches would be a thing of the past.

  Sebastian stared, backing up, his head yanking from side to side, his eyes wild.

  Cedric pushed his sword point into his back, and Sebastian stopped with a jerk.

  “Beneath the Stars,” Kayeck called loudly, not taking her gaze from Sebastian. She grabbed his hand and slit the skin on his wrist, slamming the Amulet down onto his bloody arm. The wooden monstrosity greedily soaked up the moisture so it didn't even drip onto the ground.

  Sebastian howled, his words unintelligible. He backed up again, and Cedric sheathed his sword, wrapping his arm around Sebastian's neck, gripping his free arm tightly, holding the King steady as Kayeck bound her belt around the Amulet.

  Slowly Cedric eased Sebastian to a sitting position as Sebastian's legs wobbled beneath him.

  Kayeck waited. Silence filled the area again.

  Cedric turned his attention again to Ayden, his eyes widening in horror. Ayden's body blackened, ash slowly moving up his arms, spreading beneath his tunic, moving to his neck, eventually to his face.

  He collapsed against the ground, a blackened, charred ghost of a man. Luasa huffed one gentle smoke ring over him before tipping sideways, crashing to the ground, her smoky irises stilling.

  Cedric released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

  It was done. Ayden was dead. Cedric shook his head helplessly, his tight jaw shooting pain through his temples. “He's gone,” he rasped, his words hardly more than a whisper.

  “Aye,” Kayeck murmured. “It had to happen.”

  Cedric couldn't look away from the blackened carcass of the man Kinna had loved. “This will shred Kinna's soul. She loved him.”

  “Aye, she loved him with a strength not often seen on this earth,” Kayeck nodded. Her white eyes seemed to glow as she kept them centered on the Amulet. The pendant had started to hiss and smoke again.

  A shriek behind them yanked Cedric's attention around. Kinna and Chennuh burst into the clearing from the skies, Kinna sliding off the Mirage before he'd even landed. She sprinted toward the charred body that used to be Ayden's, toward Luasa where she lay, dead in a heap. Behind her, Chennuh's roar of agony shook the mountainside.

  “Ayden!” she called, collapsing to her knees beside him, reaching to touch him. “Ayden, no! I didn't want this.” She raised a tear-streaked face to Kayeck. “He said death was only a possibility. But...” she motioned helplessly to the body.

  “Aye, it was a possibility,” Kayeck murmured. The clouds flickered high above, and a threatening rumble of thunder whispered across the clearing. “The Amulet chose Ayden to manifest the presence of the Touches, and Sebastian, the lack.”

  “Why?” Kinna shouted, not at the Seer Fey, but at the Amulet on Sebastian's arm. She buried her face in her hands. “Why could it not have been Sebastian? Ayden was a good man; where is the justice? It—it is not fair.” Her voice broke.

  Kayeck sighed. “How little you see, dear girl,” she said quietly. “You must learn to look past the immediate trouble in front of you.”

  Kinna shook her head, still sobbing over Ayden's blackened body. Chennuh moved closer, his muzzle touching his mate's breathless one. A deep moan came from his throat.

  “Do it,” Cedric said bitterly. “Just end it.” He looked down at Sebastian's white face. The King lay quite still, his eyes closed. Cedric wondered if he were dead already. Good riddance if so, he thought.

  “All four Touches must manifest before the Amulet can be destroyed,” Kayeck said quietly.

  “What?” Cedric shot a look at the woman's face. She did not remove her gaze from the Amulet. It now shook on the King's arm.

  “Aye. Three Touches have passed through their bodies, the present end manifesting in Ayden, the lacking end in Sebastian. There is but one to go. The Healing Touch.”

  Cedric leapt to his feet. Surely there was no hope...

  But there was.

  Slowly, slowly, Ayden's fingertips turned a flesh-colored tone. The color passed up his arm in small increments, edging beneath his tunic, emerging into his neck, slowly pushing up across his jawline and cheeks and into his hair.

  “Kinna!” Cedric gasped.

  She pulled her hands away from her face, staring in bewilderment at Ayden.

  Ayden's fingers twitched. His eyes opened. He blinked.

  “Ayden!” Kinna launched herself at him.

  He groaned beneath the impact, reaching to rub his eyes and bashing himself soundly in his mouth. “Ouch.”

  Cedric couldn't believe it. He turned his gaze to the she-Dragon who had been Ayden's psuche partner. The she-Dragon's still gaze flicked, moved in an instant from the Stars overhead to Chennuh, who huffed smoke worriedly over her. She raised her head, looking around the clearing, and then tucked her head firmly beneath Chennuh's. A
contented rumble left her throat.

  “What—what happens to Sebastian, then?” Cedric asked.

  “Sebastian will suffer from the lack of healing,” Kayeck grunted. “That is, his wound I gave him, and the wound Ashleen gave him, will not heal by taibe.” She bent and untied the belt that held the sated Amulet to Sebastian's arm.

  “Come, it is time.” She lifted the Amulet above her head, her opaque gaze clearing for the first time since Cedric had known her, flaring a brilliant purple beneath the lightning-filled clouds.

  “Beneath the Stars,” she shouted, “the Amulet is no more!” She lowered her head, looking directly at Cedric. “Fare thee well, young King. I will watch over you from the Stars.”

  Lightning slit the air, sizzling into the clearing with a deafening roar of thunder that knocked Cedric from his feet. He tumbled backward onto the ground, his ears ringing.

  The lightning hit the Amulet, holding it in place, pausing for a mere instant in which the wooden eye and Kayeck were lit, blazing brighter and brighter. The light consumed Cedric's vision, and everything exploded in one gigantic pulse. Dragon and Man were thrown backward, and when the light receded, the only thing left where Kayeck had stood was the intricately-carved Seer Fey knife.

  Cedric peeled himself off the ground. He walked forward in the deafening silence. He picked up the knife, rubbing a finger over its bloody edge, and then raised his gaze to the Stars.

  “Help me,” he whispered to them before turning his gaze back to Sebastian.

  “What has happened here?” The voice, terrible and loud, echoed across the clearing. “You have destroyed my Amulet!”

  Paik's green eyes blazed beyond the circle of firelight, and he moved forward, stepping over Sebastian, who had begun to groan in pain. The Grand-Master's staff was missing, probably lost in the battle, but the taibe he still wielded was nearly tangible around them.

  “Curse you, boy!” Paik screamed at Cedric. Other Seer Fey moved closer, flanking the Grand-Master on either side. Ashleen had crossed the clearing to Ayden, Kinna, and the Mirages, and the Great Dragons huddled on Cedric's other side, staring at the newcomers. Ember and Sperah prepared to attack from the trees lengths away. Wait, Cedric thought. They still wield taibe, and we must be careful. He needed to think.