Narrian_Discovering his Dragon

by Rinelle Grey

  Like making sure they weren’t surprised by an enemy dragon. Prince Verrian had been fighting the dragon that had attacked him, and hopefully he had defeated it, but it never paid to assume.

  There could always be more.

  There had been far more than one the night her father had attempted to wake the princess. He’d had six of their strongest warriors with him, and none of them had returned to tell the tale.

  Narrian’s stomach clenched. She would not fail, as her father did. She would complete this mission, as he had been unable to.

  She was glad, in a way, that Prince Taurian had chosen to send a small force. That way she didn’t have to share this victory with anyone else. She just wished that Prince Verrian had let her remain and fight that dragon with him. The prince hadn’t seemed like a confident fighter. What if he was in trouble?

  Bruce and the princess would probably be a while, maybe she could run back and see if he needed any help? She could cover that distance far faster than Bruce had been able to.

  She glanced down at the yawning hole in the dunes, wishing the human had closed it behind him. She couldn’t leave him while it was open and the Mesmer chamber was exposed.

  His footsteps echoed back up in the stillness of the night and she caught flashes of light as he shone the torch around. It occurred to Narrian that she would soon have another reason for wishing it were closed. She certainly didn’t want to be listening to the human and princess completing the Mesmer ritual.

  Her stomach turned at the thought.

  “It’s empty,” Bruce’s voice called up.

  Narrian’s heart skipped a beat. Empty? What was he talking about?

  “Check again,” she called back.

  Bruce’s voice floated back up the stairs. “I’ve already checked three times, there’s nothing here.” He didn’t even sound annoyed.

  Did anything ever annoy him? He was so darn polite, all the time. Even when he was covered with sand sticking to sweat. Narrian was annoyed that it made her feel a little guilty for questioning his claim.

  But how could the Mesmer chamber be empty? It had all been properly sealed and closed up, surely if the Trima dragons had found a way in, it wouldn’t be? If they had why had the Trima dragon still been guarding it?

  The human had to be missing something. He was probably too exhausted to look properly.

  Narrian glanced around the sky again, and out across the moonlit dunes, but nothing moved. So she turned and ducked into the chamber entrance, switching on her torch and running down the stairs as quickly as she could.

  Seeing her coming, Bruce swung the torch around the room. “See, empty,” he said.

  Narrian wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find in the Mesmer chamber, she’d never been inside one before, but there wasn’t anywhere here to hide. The room was, indeed, completely empty. Narrian stared around it, looking for some clue as to where the princess had gone.

  There were no signs of a struggle, no indication of what had happened here.

  Where was she?

  Crushing disappointment hit Narrian square in the chest. It had all been for nothing. How long had the princess been missing?

  Had her father died in vain, fighting for something that wasn’t even here? The princess could have died a century ago, and none of them would have been the wiser.

  Narrian took some deep breaths, trying to ease the pain in her chest. Trying to hold back tears.

  Warriors didn’t cry. They were too busy fighting.

  And right now, there was clearly nothing they could do here. “We’ll have to head back and let the others know.”

  Let the others know she’d failed. She might not have died, as her father had, but that didn’t make her failure any less blatant.

  How? How could this have happened?

  Where was the princess?

  There was strong magic around the chamber. Life dragon magic. She could feel that it was still active, it was how she’d known where to dig.

  So why wasn’t the princess here? Had someone made it in somehow? If so, how?

  The answers to the questions certainly weren’t here. Narrian gave a sigh. If she didn’t have the human with her, she’d start searching the surrounding area, just in case there was a clue as to what had happened. The need to know consumed her.

  She glanced over at Bruce. He seemed to have recovered a little, he was no longer puffing and panting. In fact, he managed to look calm and in control again, in sharp contrast to his earlier demeanour. All that would change if they had to head for the dunes again.

  It was going to be a big enough strain for him to get back to the car. Hopefully the others were there. If she left him with Verrian, she could come back and search.

  Her mind made up, she turned to Bruce. “We need to get you back.”

  Bruce’s expression dropped. He was thinking of crossing all those dunes again. She could see it in his eyes. She felt sympathetic, but there wasn’t any way to avoid the journey.

  She expected a protest. It would do no good, they had no other options, but most people never accepted that. They objected anyway.

  But Bruce just squared his shoulders and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  A tiny sliver of admiration wormed its way into Narrian’s chest. The human was full of surprises.

  If he’d been a dragon, like her, she would have accepted his comment as a matter of course.

  But she’d seen him struggle on the way here. She’d stopped when he’d requested it, but grudgingly, even though she could see he’d waited as long as possible to request a break.

  He’d been a dead weight, slowing her down the whole way.

  And he was going to be again.

  But somehow, his determination and lack of complaining won him some points.

  She resolved to stop more often, and with more good grace. The decision made her smile a little inside.

  She nodded, and put a foot on the first step.

  There was a thud above her, as though something had just landed on the dunes.

  Adrenaline kicked in, and Narrian’s heartrate sped up a notch.

  Was that a friend, or an enemy?

  Silly question. A friend would have been walking. Another dragon in human form, wouldn’t make that sound. That was a dragon landing.

  Then again, Verrian had already been in dragon form to fight the enemy dragon. Once he’d already done that, it wasn’t that great a risk to fly just this little bit further, was it?

  If that was the case, maybe she could take dragon form and fly Bruce back to the car. It would save a lot of walking.

  “What was that?” Bruce asked, his voice shaking.

  “I don’t know, wait here,” Narrian spoke directly into his mind, so no one could hear her but him. “Don’t move. Switch off the torches.”

  Bruce took her literally, fumbling to switch off the torch, then freezing still, barely even breathing.

  Good. It was nice to have someone who listened to her for once. A dragon would have protested, maybe even pushed past her to check for themselves.

  Her own torch off, Narrian put her foot on the next step, glad they were solid stone and made no sound. She inched her way up, craning her neck, trying to get a look at whoever it was that was up there.

  Moonlight glinted off scales red with blood. Underneath certainly wasn’t purple though. She was pretty sure it was silver. Not Verrian.

  Her heartbeat sounded so loud, she was sure the other dragon would be able to hear it. But he didn’t move.

  Then suddenly, his head snaked around, staring into the entrance, his eyes gleaming icy blue.

  Could he seem them down here? It was darker than up above, but dragon eyes could see far better than human ones. He probably knew exactly where they were.

  A guess that was confirmed when he opened his mouth and lightning burst from it.

  Instinctively, Narrian flattened herself against the wall, wincing.

  But the blast didn’t reach her. It arced over wha
t must have been the life magic barrier, touching it in so many spots, it looked like shooting stars covering the night sky.

  It did confirm one thing. This was definitely the Trima dragon.

  That answer only raised more questions.

  Was it the same dragon that had attacked Prince Verrian, or another one? Either option wasn’t good, and didn’t bode well for the prince. Narrian’s stomach clenched. Not only had she failed to find the princess, it was possible she’d left the prince to die as well.

  At least her father hadn’t done that. He had failed with honour, doing the right thing. He hadn’t made a mistake, he’d just faced an overwhelming opposition.

  Why had she listened to Lisa when she’d ordered her to leave?

  At the time, it had seemed like the best option. Narrian had been sure Verrian could handle the lightning dragon, and her goal had been to get Bruce to his destination. She hadn’t known then that the journey was pointless.

  Even so, it made more sense to protect the dragon that was awake and alive than to hope for one they weren’t even certain of. If she’d helped Verrian defeat the Trima dragon, they all could have come here together.

  That was what she should have done.

  Now she’d possibly lost everything. Her stomach churned, and for a moment she was surprised she didn’t actually throw up.

  The Trima dragon roared and hit the barrier with another bolt of lightning, distracting her. What was he doing? He had to know it was useless. Life magic couldn’t be broken. And the Trima dragons had sure tried hard enough over the years to know.

  Was he just showing off, or was it a threat?

  Being protected from the lightning didn’t make Narrian feel any better. They couldn’t stay here forever. They needed to get out. The sense of failure overwhelmed her, and being stuck only added to it.

  But the Trima dragon had all the advantages. She couldn’t sneak up on him, or surprise him, there was only one direction she could come at him from, and he knew it.

  Her only option was a full-frontal attack. Practically a suicide mission. Right now though, she didn’t care. At least if she died then she wouldn’t have to face Taurian and admit she hadn’t been there to save his brother.

  She calculated her options. Might as well give this the best chance of success she could. Avenging Verrian would go a long way to assuaging some of her guilt.

  Trouble was, as a metal dragon, she couldn’t throw a fireball or a lightning bolt, or even a jet of water. And there was no room to transform in the narrow entrance to the Mesmer chamber. No chance to don her metal coated scales that would give her protection against his lightning bolts.

  She estimated that he could probably fire one, maybe two, lightning bolts before she even made it up the stairs to where he stood.

  She should never have come down into the chamber. That had been her second mistake. She’d made way too many of them tonight.

  If she’d stayed up on the surface, then she would have seen him coming, and had time to transform. Then she was certain she could defeat him. Maybe she could have even caught him by surprise.

  She could have at least had that victory to take home to the clan.

  Now the tables were turned.

  Narrian judged the distance. If she sprinted, maybe she could make it to him. Maybe she could dodge one lightning attack. The Trima dragon was already wounded, maybe that would slow his attack?

  “Don’t leave me.” Bruce’s voice was so quiet Narrian wasn’t sure she’d heard it.

  Even so, it only stirred up more roiling turmoil in the pit of her stomach. Why did he have to say that now? Why did he have to try to stop her doing what she had to do?

  The human hung back, not even near the stairs. His face was white as a sheet. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” he said. “You’re trying to figure out if you can attack him, but if you fail…” He trailed off, and swallowed.

  Of course it was what she was thinking. It was the only option.

  But a human was never going to realise that.

  A human wouldn’t understand the concept of sacrificing yourself to save others.

  Except that Bruce had. He’d thrown himself in front of a gun to save Karla, his ex-girlfriend.

  Narrian didn’t want to believe he had. It was easy to discount it with what she’d seen of Bruce so far. The story had probably been gravely exaggerated. Yes, he had been wounded, but it must have happened by accident. Someone who was too scared to be alone, when they were safely inside a life magic barrier, certainly wouldn’t have thrown themselves in front of a gun.

  “What are you suggesting we do?” Narrian growled impatiently. “That dragon isn’t going to just get bored and go away.”

  “When we don’t come back, they’ll come looking for us,” Bruce insisted. “Waiting is the safest option.”

  Narrian didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to admit his plan might be more sensible than hers.

  The mistakes she’d made tonight all jumbled together in her brain, making her feel worse and worse. Making it impossible to sit still.

  She didn’t want to sit here to be rescued like a… like a human. Or a princess.

  She was a warrior. She was supposed to be fighting, not sitting around waiting to be rescued. Even if it meant dying.

  Right now, dying seemed like a preferable option.

  Except for Bruce. Narrian clenched her fists. Why did he have to be here? If he wasn’t, then she could attack the dragon without caring if she lived or died. But her death wouldn’t be honourable if she left him here alone and defenceless.

  She had a responsibility to protect Bruce. She’d promised the prince that she would. If the prince were dead, her promise held even more weight.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t protect him by dying.

  More than that, he didn’t deserve that. He’d done his best throughout this whole thing, she had to give him that. Leaving him alone and defenceless went against every code of honour she’d ever heard of.

  Narrian stalked past Bruce and back into the chamber. Anger flooded through her. Anger at the situation, anger at the princess not being here, anger at the human who was stopping her going out there and taking on that dragon.

  But mostly, it was anger at herself. At the mistakes she’d made that had put them in this position.

  Fighting the enemy dragon would have been an outlet for all this anger that was coursing through her. As it was…

  Even though she knew it was pointless, she let her fist transform, metal armoured scales protecting her hand as she punched the stone wall.

  She heard the satisfying cracking sound it made as it hit, and shower of sand fell down from the roof over hear head.

  Bruce made a strangled sound of shock.

  Narrian didn’t even care.

  But the punch had dissipated some of the tension. She heaved a sigh, letting out the rest, her hand returning to normal, and resigned herself to waiting.

  She leant against the back wall, out of sight of the entrance and the dragon who waited there, and slid down it into a sitting position. “Might as well get comfortable,” she said gruffly. “This could take a while.”

  Chapter 4

  Bruce stared at the shadow of the dragon warrior, sitting with her back against the wall as though she hadn’t nearly punched a hole through solid stone. The strength she must have to do that.

  And the anger. He’d never felt the impulse to punch things when he was angry. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d never even felt that level of anger. It must be a little overwhelming.

  Something was eating up at her, he could see that in the way her shoulders slumped. She stared at the stone in front of her, her eyes glazed over.

  For some reason, despite her anger, he wasn’t afraid of her. He felt sorry for her. And grateful. And something else—a feeling that twisted his stomach and sent a tingle up his spine—that he couldn’t quite name.

  Bruce hesitated for a moment, before walking over and s
itting down next to Narrian, careful to leave about a foot of space between them in the darkness. He switched on his torch again, shining it up at the roof to light the general area.

  He wanted to tell her he appreciated her staying with him, but he couldn’t think of any way to say it that didn’t end up sounding like a wimp.

  He was pretty sure she already thought he was anyway. He’d seen the look of disgust she’d thrown him. And he’d seen the longing look she’d cast up at the enemy dragon.

  She wanted to go out there and attack it.

  She’d probably win too, going by the damage she’d done to that wall. But if she didn’t…

  Bruce shuddered.

  The others would come for them, he tried to reassure himself. Wouldn’t they?

  All they had to do was wait. The other dragons would know how to help Narrian feel better, wouldn’t they? They’d know how to say the right thing.

  He was pretty sure he didn’t stand a chance.

  As the silence stretched out, he couldn’t bear it. He had to at least try.

  “Don’t you ever wish your life was boring and ordinary?” he asked impulsively. “That you could wake up and know no one was going to try to kill you?”

  Narrian’s stare was patronising. “What would be the point in that? There’s no challenge, nothing to overcome.” She looked at him then, curiosity pulling her a little out of her hopelessness. “Doesn’t that get boring?”

  Bruce felt an inkling of what she meant. He’d stayed here in Australia because he couldn’t bear not to know how this ended. Because he couldn’t walk away from this excitement back to his ordinary life.

  Right now though, he was almost wishing he had. When you weighed up dangerous excitement versus safe boredom, boredom really did seem like the better option.

  He hadn’t been bored before he’d known all this existed though.

  “There are plenty of challenges that aren’t fighting you know,” Bruce pointed out.

  “Like what?” Narrian challenged.

  “Like…” Bruce searched for something that she might find a worthy challenge. “Like helping others,” he said finally. “There are a lot of people who are struggling out there, probably even in your own clan. It can be a challenge to help them overcome that, and find their way to a better life.”