by Lili Zander
My phone rings again. Everyone wants to talk to Bastian Jaeger today. Suppressing my urge to bark, I answer. “Yes?”
“Lord Jaeger, it’s Pieter Van Den Berg.” The voice on the other end of the line sounds distinctly shaky. “You asked me to call if I ever needed your help.”
“You heard from Aria?”
“Yes. She’s taking on a dragon. She wants protection.”
Why are you doing this without us, little thief? We’re your mates. Don’t you know we’d die for you?
“Give her whatever she needs. Money’s not important.”
“She wants me to get to Nome in twelve hours.”
It’s two in the morning for him. The tattoo artist wouldn’t know where to begin. “You’re in Manhattan?”
“Yes.”
“Get to LaGuardia. Call this number when you get there.” I rattle off my assistant Tracy’s phone number. “She’ll get you to a charter plane that’ll take you where you need.”
“Thank you.”
I mutter something in reply and hang up. I call Tracy and tell her to arrange transportation for Pieter, and then stare at the others.
Aria’s preparing for battle. She’ll need us. We cannot allow her to face the Dark Dragon alone. We must get to Zyrian’s castle as soon as possible.
Flying’s out of the question; it’s too far. Magic will drain Mateo. I won’t be able to find a charter in time. I look at the others. “We need transportation,” I say grimly. “Any ideas?”
Casius is already on his phone. “Kioko?” he says into the line. “Your missing vials just turned up in New York. Zyrian’s minions used them to kidnap a wolf under our protection.” His voice turns to steel. “The way I see it, if the alchemists want to avoid all-out war with the five of us, I need a favor. We need to get to Nome.”
He listens to something the alchemist says on the phone and then hangs up. “What are we waiting for?” he demands. “Let’s go. The plane will be ready by the time we get to the airfield.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed. Casius is not typically the threatening sort.
Then again, Aria’s in danger. We’re throwing all the rules out of the window.
This time, it’s personal.
15
Aria
After the longest flight in my life, I finally get to Alaska. I’ve arranged for a car and driver to meet me at the airfield—thank you, black Amex—and I make my way to the motel on the outskirts of town, where I’m supposed to meet Pieter.
Seven hours to go.
I’m running on fumes. I forced myself to sleep on the plane, knowing that I needed to be rested for my confrontation with Zyrian, but I’m still exhausted, the ever-present fear in my heart sapping my energy.
The car pulls up in the parking lot. I get out, thanking the driver. Once he leaves, I dial Pieter’s phone. “Are you here?”
“Room 12.” Pieter’s tone is strained.
I stride toward it. The door swings open as I near. My mind is blanketed with worry for Silas. Because I’m so distracted, I don’t sense the danger until it’s too late.
“Aria Archer, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Drakkar Raedwulf grabs my arm and pulls me into the room, shutting the door behind him. I move to break his hold but freeze when he holds up a vial. “You know what this is?”
Kioko Yone’s magic suppressant. Damn it. “You took Silas, didn’t you?” My voice is bitter, and my blood boils with rage.
“I had no other choice,” he replies. There’s a note of regret in his voice, one that sends a jolt of shock through me. I remember what Raedwulf wants with the Bloodstone. To free the magic trapped inside his kid so that he’ll be able to shift.
Then I harden my heart. This wolf killed Uncle Pete. He delivered Silas to Gideon Zyrian. He doesn’t deserve my sympathy.
I look around the room. Pieter’s sitting on a chair, his legs shackled, his hands tied behind his back. Thankfully, he appears unharmed. “Where’s Tall, Dark, and Deadly?”
“Dead,” Raedwulf replies flatly. “I killed him.”
No honor among thieves for this wolf. “Why?” I ask. If I keep him talking, maybe I’ll be able to figure a way out of this mess.
“He went too far. He killed the Norm. He had to die.”
I look up. “Uncle Pete?”
He nods tightly.
I don’t quite understand what’s going on here. “What do you want, Raedwulf?”
“What I’ve always wanted,” he says quietly. “My son can’t shift. I want you to free the magic trapped inside him.”
What did Casius say a long time ago, back at Preston Memorial? “It can’t be done. The gift is passed at birth. If your son can’t shift…” My voice trails away. The magic can’t be restored.
“You could try.” There’s a desperate edge to Raedwulf’s voice. “Please…”
“Why would I help you?” I throw at him. Silas is in Zyrian’s grip because of this wolf.
He holds up the vial. “Nothing this tattoo artist can do will give you an edge over the Dark Dragon,” he says. “But this will hold him for five minutes. It’s the last vial. Help my son, and I’ll give it to you.”
Pieter clears his throat. “What’s in the vial?”
“Something he stole from the alchemists,” I reply, not taking my eyes off the small glass container in Raedwulf’s hand. “From Kioko Yone’s personal stores.”
Pieter inhales sharply. “He’s right,” he admits. “There’s nothing I can give you that’s as powerful as that potion. Take the deal, Aria.”
I close my eyes. I remember what it feels like to be an outsider. To never belong. Raedwulf isn’t an innocent, but his child is. And if I can help…
I’m running out of time. “Fine.” I stare at Raedwulf. “I’m making no guarantees, but I’ll do my best. You give me the vial whether I succeed or fail.”
“You have a deal.”
Raedwulf leads me to a waiting van. The drive is short. The house we pull up at is tiny and dilapidated. The blue paint is chipping off, and the porch is warped. The inside smells musky and unlived in. At the kitchen table, a small boy is coloring with an older woman.
When she sees us, she quickly leaves the room. The little boy looks up, a toothy smile on his face. “Papa!” he says excitedly. Jumping from his chair, he runs to Drakkar, who bends down to catch his small son and swing him in the air. The menacing cruelty that I’ve come to associate with the wolf melts away and is replaced by a loving father.
“Have you been a good boy for Matilda?”
“Yes, papa.” He wraps his arms around his father’s neck and stares at me. “Who are you?”
My lips twitch. “My name is Aria.” Drakkar puts his son down, and the little boy approaches me. I kneel down to his level. “What’s your name?”
“Twistan,” he says with an adorable smile.
“Tristan, it’s very nice to meet you.” I look around the small room and realize the only place to sit is at the table. Seeing the crayons spread out, I decide that it’s probably best to distract the kid. “Would you like to color?”
Without a word, he bounces to the table and immediately resumes coloring.
I take a deep breath and reach for the Bloodstone. What I’m trying to do is impossible. Mateo, who is hundreds of years old and vastly more powerful and experienced than I am, said it couldn’t be done.
I need a miracle.
No pressure.
I reach inside me for my magic. No longer a tightly coiled ball, the strands are pliant. With a little coaxing, they willingly bend to my will.
I focus on Tristan, reaching out to him like I would Mateo, hoping against hope that there is magic inside the boy. If there is even a tiny spark, then maybe I can use my own power to bolster it and make it stronger.
There. The faintest flicker of fire. Just one tiny ember. One small thread of hope.
Concentrating, I push my magic at that small spark. For a second, it seems to flare, but then it
fizzles out. I try again with no luck.
Ah. I see what’s going on. There’s a wall around Tristan’s faint magic, one that I can’t break through. I batter against it over and over, but all I’m doing is draining my energy.
I’m not strong enough.
The Bloodstone is hot against my skin. It seems to call me. But I am, it whispers. Use me.
I tug the ruby from around my neck. Squeezing it, I make a split-second decision. I’m going to have to free the magic in Zyrian’s castle. Might as well discover how much control I’ll have.
I pull my small pocket knife out. Drakkar instantly starts toward me, his expression threatening, but I wave him away. “I’m not going to hurt your child.”
Tristan is coloring with rapt concentration. He looks up for a second, and Raedwulf smiles reassuringly. “What are you drawing?”
“A lion.” The little boy holds up his book, and I bite back my grin. Tristan’s lion is gloriously multi-colored, and he’s added a set of blue and purple wings. I like this kid.
Back to work. I make a small cut on my finger. “This might get out of control,” I force through dry lips. I can’t believe I’m putting my trust in Drakkar Raedwulf. “Be prepared to take the Bloodstone from me by force.”
He nods tightly.
Gathering my courage, I let my blood drip onto the stone. Instantly it responds, flaring to life. The same dark pull from before is there, but this time I’m expecting it. Knowing I won’t be able to restrain the magic for long, I plunge in.
Ah! I can see the wall more clearly now. I try to ram against it again, pushing with the Bloodstone’s strength, but nothing.
Think, Aria.
Don’t break the wall. Look for a gate.
I circle the barrier that surrounds Tristan’s magic, looking for an opening. Ah, there it is. A small gate, overgrown with creepers, rusty from disuse. I’m making progress.
I feed the stone more blood and focus my attention on the gate. A wave of magic from the Bloodstone surges over me, and I almost go under. My stomach churns at the wrongness of it, and I have to fight the instinct to push it away. Remember Mateo’s lesson with the crystals, I imagine the pure strands of my magic surrounding the taint, cleansing it.
I know I’ve succeeded when the magic flares bright and ruby-red.
Hurry, Aria. You can’t control the Bloodstone much longer.
Using the newly cleansed magic, I push the gate, and it yields with a creak. I’m in. Now to fan Tristan’s magic back to life.
I direct my attention to the small ember I sense within Raedwulf’s cub. This time, when I feed it my strength, the spark grows and doesn’t fizzle out. Excitement courses through me. This is working.
Another wave of tainted magic erupts from the Bloodstone. I grit my teeth and hang on. “Be prepared to grab the stone from me,” I grind out. “One more minute.”
I feed the child more strength. After an excruciatingly long time, the small spark grows to a bright glow. Just in time. As another wave washes over me, Raedwulf wrenches the stone from my grasp.
“It didn’t work,” he says flatly. He can’t hide the disappointment from his tone. “Still, a deal’s a deal.”
I sink to the floor. “Watch,” I whisper. I reach for Tristan’s small hand. One more push of magic and the little boy transforms into a brown and gray wolf.
“You did it. You fixed him.” Shock runs through Raedwulf’s voice, and his eyes fill with tears. “Thank you, thank you.”
The small wolf jumps from the chair and runs to the front door, growling. I’m sure the little guy is going for fierce, but it’s just adorable. Raedwulf scoops the pup up in his arms, just in time for the door to be kicked in.
I scramble to my feet at once. What now?
Lukus Hyde and several members of Eclipse Pack stream inside the room. The Alpha seems as surprised to see me as I am to see him, but his attention quickly returns to Raedwulf. “Where’s Silas Archer?” he demands.
“With Gideon Zyrian.”
A look of despair flickers over Lukus Hyde. It fills me with fresh anger. Stop acting like it’s too late, I want to scream. Stop acting like Silas is already dead.
Hyde recovers his composure. “Put the pup down,” he says, pushing his alpha authority into the words. “Surrender to pack justice.”
I brace for a fight, but Raedwulf just nods. “My boy…”
The Alpha’s expression softens. “Your pup will be cared for by Eclipse Pack.”
Raedwulf turns to me. “As promised,” he says, handing me the vial. “If you go to the docks, there’s a boat there waiting to take you to Zyrian’s fortress.”
“Thank you.” I can’t linger here. Hyde can clean up this mess.
I have more important things to do.
16
Mateo
We land in Nome an hour behind Aria. By the time we get to the cheap motel that she’s meeting the tattoo artist at, she’s not there anymore. We’ve just missed her.
“You let her go to Zyrian’s castle?” Bastian rages at Lukus Hyde. “Why the fuck didn’t you stop her?”
The Alpha holds Bastian’s gaze bravely. “I could have tried, Lord Jaeger,” he says. “But I would have failed. Your mate freed the magic locked inside Raedwulf’s cub. She is more powerful than anyone I’ve ever seen. If I’d tried to hold her by force, I would have failed.” His voice turns gentle. “She’s going to rescue her father, Lord Jaeger. I didn’t want to stop her.”
“You fool.” My voice is harsh. “She can’t face the Dark Dragon alone. We’ve got to go after her.”
“The island is warded. As powerful as you are, Lord Valentini, you won’t be able to break past Gideon Zyrian’s defenses.”
I look up, and my shoulders stiffen. It’s Raedwulf. “What the hell is he doing here?” I snap at Lukus Hyde.
“Trying to help you,” Raedwulf responds. “I owe your mate a debt of gratitude.”
Rhys is calm. “Zyrian’s power is fading. Why can’t Mateo break past his wards?”
“Because his wards aren’t maintained by his strength,” Raedwulf responds. “I’ve studied the Dark Dragon at close range for over a year. Zyrian gains magic by murdering magicals and imprisoning their souls. It’s the wraiths that keep his shield up.”
“Wraiths,” Bastian repeats crisply. “Got it.”
“There’s something else. You can’t shift inside the Rogue Prince’s castle.”
“What?”
He nods. “I don’t know how he does it, but it’s true. Even on a full moon night, I’ve never been able to free my wolf on the island.”
“We’ll manage,” Erik says grimly. “Bastian. We’re wasting time. Aria’s ten minutes ahead of us. We need to catch up with her.”
Raedwulf holds up his hand. “Two more things,” he warns. “The island is guarded by an army of Zyrian’s pet wolves. Unlike everyone else, they can shift at will. Every entrance will be watched.”
Casius is practically vibrating with impatience. “What’s the last thing?”
“There’s a way in. A door set in the west wall of the castle. The servants used to access the vegetable garden through that entrance, but it hasn’t been used in fifty years, and everyone’s forgotten about it. That’s the easiest way in.”
I search him for any sign that he’s lying to us, but a probe reveals that Raedwulf is telling us the truth. He’s genuinely grateful for what Aria did. He doesn’t want her to die.
Neither do I. But if we want to reach her before it’s too late, we need to get going. Now.
17
Aria
I’m on a boat headed toward the small island that houses Zyrian’s castle. This is it. For five hundred years, the curse has stifled the dragons. Prevented them from finding their mates. Draining magic from this world.
Do I have what it takes to end it now?
I dreamed of Zyrian even before I met the dragons. I had Endellion in my hand and the Bloodstone around my neck. The wraiths had tried to make
me leave, but I wouldn’t be dissuaded. The Rogue Prince was holding Silas prisoner, and I had to march in there. I had to save my father.
Every single time I’ve had this dream, it’s ended in failure. Every single time, Silas has been killed.
There has to be something I’m missing. Some way of changing my fate. Because I will not watch my father die in front of my eyes.
I grow still as a realization flashes through me. The visions have always been on my mind. I’ve spent many hours pondering over their message.
But the one thing I’ve never wondered about? Where the visions come from.
Very good. Finally, another sensible question.
It’s Maija Essen, I realize with a start. She’s the source of my visions. Which means…
Every path in front of me ends in destruction. All paths but one.
Finally, we’re getting somewhere. There is a way out of this impossible trap. All hope is not lost. I just have to figure this puzzle out.
And the key to the solution is the person that pulled me into this. The mysterious, enigmatic Maija Essen, the most powerful mage of her time. A woman who could see the future.
What do I really know about her? Next to nothing. She was betrothed to another powerful mage, but she instead married Johannes Jaeger, a warrior with no ability to manipulate magic. On the day she agreed to be his, he’d been so happy that he’d given her Gungnir, the legendary spear of Odin.
A memory itches in the back of my mind. What had Bastian said? Halla Northridottir had told him that it was Endellion that was the courting gift. Not Gungnir.
So why the lie? Why is Endellion important?
I know what the Bloodstone is. It’s a reservoir containing the magic of generation upon generation of dragons.
I know what role I’m supposed to play. My blood will dissolve the barrier imprisoning magic inside the Bloodstone.
