Dragon of Destiny

by Eva Chase

  “I knew the dark fae were keeping an eye on him.” My thoughts dart back to that long-ago vision of the Darkest One ripping into Arthur’s body. “And I was worried about her in particular, yeah.”

  “But even with that... I’m not saying this to criticize or anything, really. It’s not as if I’d stand half a chance at stopping her. But when she did come, back then, if you could have just destroyed her instead of the whole binding spell, you would have, wouldn’t you? You sealed her away because that was the best you could do.”

  My throat tightened. “That’s a fair read of the situation. The direction I took was also partly due to how quickly the attack happened and how little time I had to think.” But I’d had plenty of time to think about how I’d defend my king from the Darkest One before she’d arrived, and I hadn’t come up with a definite solution any of those times either.

  “Mostly she was too powerful,” I added. “She’s the most powerful dark fae there is, and I’m only half-fae myself. Creative strategy can get you a long way, but...” I shrugged, my heart heavy.

  Izzy bit her lip. “So... If that was the case back then, and you haven’t had as much time to prepare now...”

  Ah. It wasn’t hard to figure out what she was asking, as much as she obviously hated to. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to take her on properly this time, no,” I said. “I just can’t think about that. I have to try. Maybe I can at least seal her away again. Maybe I can find a way to get her attention off Darton, at least, so whatever she’s planning that involves him, she won’t be able to do.” If I could rid him of his curse, that would throw a wrench in her schemes.

  “And Darton will help fight her.”

  “Of course. In some ways he knows more than he did back then, so he’ll be able to do more.” I hadn’t been enough to stop her on my own, but maybe the two of us together, both with a full understanding of the threat...

  But how could I let him get close enough to the Darkest One to fight her while her influence was still tied to his soul? No. The spell I was going to attempt had to work. I had to release him from the darkness she’d woven into his soul, or we were screwed. It was that simple.

  “Oh, look!” Izzy pointed ahead. The drifting branches of a weeping willow had come into view. We hurried along the path. The breeze passed through the grove with an eerie rustling. But as we ventured into the midst of the willows, my gaze caught on a prone trunk a short hike down the path. My spirits lifted, and a real smile crossed my face.

  This was the first time I could think of that I’d been happy to see something dead, but I’d take my victories where I could.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You went all that way to gather this stuff, and now you’re going to burn it?” Darton said.

  I poked at the shavings of dead willow bark I’d gathered in a small pile in our concrete yard. “Reduce it down to its most basic, orderly state. That’s the whole point. Anyway, I’ve got more if I mess up the materials somehow.”

  I had to be careful not to add extra elements to the mix. That meant no matches and no chemical lighters. And no light fae magic.

  I knelt down and struck the rocks I was using as flints against each other. One, two, three—there. I got a spark. It leapt onto the finer shreds of bark beneath my hands and caught. The flame sizzled over the pile as I straightened up. A thin, acrid scent drifted into the air.

  “And this will convince the... whatever... inside me that you’re a dark fae?”

  “That’s the idea.” I glanced over at Darton. He was trying to keep his voice casual, but tension showed all through his posture. I was about to go digging deep into his soul. We both knew there wasn’t any other option, but I couldn’t help saying, “If you’ve changed your mind, we can just leave it. We can just make sure the Darkest One never gets the chance—”

  “But we can’t really make sure she won’t.” Darton shook his head. “It’s fine. I want her magic out of me. You can’t do that unless you know what it is.”

  The scraps of bark had been small enough that the fire had already consumed most of them. I stirred the ash with my poker. “I’ll be done here soon. Why don’t you go lie down where we decided and relax as well as you can. That’ll make my job easier.”

  “Right.” He turned to go with a jerky motion. It tugged at my heart.

  “Art,” I said. He looked back at me. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Like always. Isn’t that what you always say?”

  His mouth twitched into a small smile. “I guess I should be glad you do listen to me every now and again.”

  The door thumped as he went in. I watched the flames crackle lower over the disintegrating bark. That little smile had warmed me more than the fire did.

  When the fire had sputtered out completely, I took out my bag of dried aconite petals and scattered them in the ash. Then I scooped some of the mixture into a bowl. With a stone pestle, I ground petals and ash together into a fine powder. The scent that rose off it, tart and prickling, made my stomach turn.

  There was darkness here, all right. My fae senses cringed at it. Well, they’d just have to tolerate it for a little while. I had work to do.

  Inside, the cup of chervil tea I’d brewed had stopped steaming. That herb was the only one I’d already had on hand that I thought might be useful, to thin out the light fae essence running through my veins. I drank it in slow gulps. The delicately sweet flavor seemed at odds with the smoky smell still clinging to my clothes.

  I left those clothes on—the willow smoke could only help my cause—and carried my bowl of powder into the guest room.

  We’d pushed the bed into the corner to leave as much open floor space as possible. Darton lay on the polished wood, shirt off, his arms resting at either side of his well-muscled chest and his eyes closed. He was breathing deep and even, but the twitch of his jaw as I came in told me he was far from sleeping.

  I knelt beside him and rolled up my sleeves. The willow ash and aconite powder was faintly grainy and still warm under my fingers. I smeared it up my forearms to the elbows, rubbing it in until my skin looked darker than Keevan’s. Then I coated my face with it, eyelids, nose, lips—everything. Next a ring around my neck and down past my collarbone to shield the energy of my heart. The only impression I wanted to give off during this exploration was that of the deathly darkness that characterized my opposite in fae kind.

  The itch in my hands had faded. Maybe the oath thought all this work was going toward bringing death to Arthur’s soul. Well, at least that’d be one less distraction.

  I dragged in a breath and leaned forward to set my hands on Darton’s bare chest. His heart beat against my palms from beneath those firm muscles. And all through his body, the energy of his soul quivered. I let my eyelids fall shut.

  “I travel in, I travel well. Darkness, come to meet me.”

  My sense of the energies inside Darton expanded. I glided on into them, as if into a vision.

  A pulsing light filled the space around my awareness, forming the walls of a tunnel. I moved onward through it, my senses on high alert. Little traces of shadow flickered here and there amid the glow. I could see them more sharply now. They gleamed darker for me as if welcoming me.

  Come to me, shadows, I thought without speaking. I had no real voice in this inner realm. Let me see you in all your dark glory.

  I had the sense of something stirring, up ahead. A faint waft of cold cut through Darton’s natural warmth. I was closer, far closer than I’d managed to get before.

  The tunnel turned and twisted, as if someone had knotted it here. The speckles of shadow grew larger and seeped even deeper. I braced myself as I ventured on. Whatever dark curse the fae had conjured inside Arthur’s soul might not be racing out to greet me, but it wasn’t fleeing either. I could feel it hovering, waiting, with a quiver that was almost curious.

  I turned another corner—and whatever breath I had in this strange space fell away. A shadowy shape sat coiled in the
space ahead of me. The thrum reverberating off it gave me the same icy chill as the Darkest One’s voice in my vision. I could almost feel her fingers reaching off of the thing to smear her frigid essence on my skin.

  That was it. My king’s curse. If I could touch it, scry out the purpose of it—

  I took another step closer, and the thing raised its head. A wave of horror crashed over me, sweeping all my thoughts away. I froze, numbed with panic.

  I didn’t need to touch that thing to know what it was. The head that peered down at me was narrow and sharp, with puffs of smoke trailing from its two wide nostrils. Slanted eyes shone with a darkness so complete I couldn’t focus on them for more than a moment. Scales gleamed all along its shadowy length as it uncoiled its sinewy body. Claws like obsidian cut into the glow of the soul around us. Folded wings stirred by the line of spikes running down its back.

  A dragon. I was looking at a dragon. A dragon shaped entirely from dark fae magic, some two hundred years of it, all packed into this tiny gap in Arthur’s soul.

  But it wasn’t tiny in essence. The power humming inside it was enough to leave my head ringing. Bottled up and waiting to explode—like the time bomb Eric had called it.

  All the Darkest One had to do was rip Darton open and set this thing free, and it would unfurl its cruel shadows over humankind with a wallop that would put shame to the storm now raging over Britain.

  The stories called Arthur “Pendragon.” As if they’d known somehow. How absurd. Light help us, how the hell was I supposed to conquer that?

  A hysterical giggle bubbled through my mind. The dragon shifted toward me with another wave of its cold, concentrated energy. It stabbed through my awareness as if I’d been splashed with liquid nitrogen. It barred its fangs, gathering its breath for whatever horrible sort of flame a creature like that could produce, and the last shreds of self-control holding me in place vanished.

  I flinched away, tumbling away from the shadow, through the glow, and back into my now-quaking body. The chill raced after me. No. No. I clenched my fingers as more shivers raked my body.

  The Darkest One’s laughter echoed in my ears. The ice of her energy ached under every inch of my skin. Not just a curse. A monster. A monster so vast I could hardly comprehend it.

  A whimper crept from my throat. I clamped my mouth shut, but Darton’s eyes had already blinked open. He sat up. “Em.”

  My arms shot out of their own accord. My hands clamped around his neck, thumbs poised to channel the killing energy straight into his throat. My lips parted, the oath’s urge burning in my mouth.

  No. I hadn’t gone through that horrible journey just to give in now. I tried to wrench my arms away, but my muscles wouldn’t obey. Air stuttered from my mouth. My tongue shifted. I couldn’t even drag my thumb to the side to press it against my wounded palm. But I had to feel something, something other than this drive to snuff out the life in front of me—and the beast contained within it.

  Darton stared at me. He gripped my forearms, but I already knew he couldn’t have dislodged my grasp now, football player muscles or no. The warmth of his touch bled through my skin, and I did the only thing I could think of. I yanked him forward and pulled myself to him at the same time, catching his mouth with a kiss.

  It had only been a few days since we’d last kissed. Since we’d last... almost everything. But somehow it felt as if I’d been waiting ages to feel his lips against mine again. As if I’d gone nearly mad with the lack of them. He kissed me back, hard and hot, setting off sparks all through my body. My hold on his neck loosened.

  Darton cupped the back of my head, his fingertips tracing over my scalp. I tipped my head to angle the kiss even deeper. To drink up every drop of pleasure it could offer, before we had to stop.

  Because we did. When the itch of the oath had completely dampened, I eased back. My body was still quivering, but for a very different reason. Darton let out a shaky breath. His hand slid away, but only as far as my shoulder. He ran his thumb over the peak, and that single contact was enough to leave me longing to throw myself back into his embrace.

  “Em?” he said. I thought I heard the same longing in his voice, but there was confusion too. “Are you— Was that okay?”

  Hadn’t he noticed I was the one who’d initiated the embrace? I laughed, a little roughly. “A minor exception to my rules. I figured it was better to kiss you than to kill you.”

  He touched his neck. My fingers had clutched him hard enough that the skin there was mottled pink. Guilt knotted my stomach. “I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, and the oath took over—”

  “And you stopped it. Even then you stopped it.” He let out a huff of breath that was almost a chuckle. “Even when you’ve got a magical oath compelling you to hurt me, I can trust you with my life.”

  The only urge I was fighting now was the urge to kiss him again, which had only gotten stronger with that comment. I took his hand from my shoulder into mine, twining my fingers through his. We were still in this together, my king and me.

  He bowed his head toward me, and my heart skipped. His lips only brushed my cheek with the briefest of pecks. Then he tugged me to him so I was leaning against his solid frame. He looked down at our twined hands.

  “You said you were overwhelmed. You found the dark magic inside me, then? I’m guessing it’s pretty bad.”

  He was braced for the news. It still took me a few seconds to open my mouth, and another several to find the words.

  “The dark fae conjured a dragon. Bit by bit, it must have been. Shaping it and feeding it more and more power. For now, it’s just a ball of energy hidden in your soul. But if the Darkest One gets her hands on you...”

  “She’ll release it,” Darton finished for me. “A dragon. A fucking dragon.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “I don’t even know what that means. Is it going to burst out of me someday, all Alien style?”

  I’d kept up with modern culture enough to understand the reference. “No. It’s not a bodily thing. It’s all dark energy pulled into a form. If she never gets the chance, it’ll just stay there, dormant, until... well, until you die.”

  “But we can’t count on staying ahead of her that long. So what do you do about a soul plagued with dragons?”

  I hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’ve never dealt with a dragon before. It’s not something light fae are inclined to construct.”

  Darton’s fingers tightened around mine. “It scares you,” he said.

  “I’ll try my best,” I said quickly. “There has to be something—”

  “Right.” His voice had gone brisk and distant. “And if there isn’t, and the Darkest One comes—how bad exactly will it be if this dragon gets out?”

  I wet my lips. “I can’t know for sure. But... they were feeding it with power, all through your first life and the lives of your ancestors. The Darkest One wanted something that could rain more destruction down in an instant than even she can on her own.”

  “So it’ll be worse than what she’s already doing.”

  “A lot worse,” I admitted. “From what I felt of the thing, it could lay waste to this entire state—people, animals, plants, everything destroyed—in a matter of minutes.”

  Darton sucked in a breath. I heard him swallow. Then he said, “Maybe you should kill me then.”

  I jerked away from his chest to stare at him. “What?”

  His jaw set. He looked back at me steadily. “Maybe your old enclave was right. Maybe Eric was right. The Darkest One could decide to go through with her plans for me any minute now. As long as I’m alive with that thing in me, she can. But if I die, if my soul passes away, the dragon dies with me. Doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but—”

  “No but. I don’t want to be responsible for millions of people dying. I don’t want to die, but I’m not going to kid myself that I’m that important.”

  My chest clenched. My fingers curled around his, as if he might slip away from me right now, just by sayin
g that. “You are to me.”

  “Em. Merlin.” One side of his mouth slanted up, but the shape it made was too crooked to really call it a smile. He touched the side of my face, leaning in so our foreheads nearly touched. “You’ve done so much for me already. Kept me going all this time. Don’t you think maybe it’s time you let me go?”

  “I’m really not good at that,” I said. “As I think the last fifteen hundred years should prove. Art—Arthur. I don’t want you to be turned into the Darkest One’s weapon either. If it comes to that, if I know we don’t have a chance... I’ll do what I have to do. But I don’t believe we’re there yet. I do believe there’s a chance. I swear to you, on all the years we’ve spent together, I’m not giving up on you yet. Don’t give up on me?”

  Darton made a choked sound. “Of course not. Don’t say it like that. You know I—” He faltered. “What’s next, then? Where do we go from here?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Dragons, huh?” Jagger turned the wheel of the fae hunter van he’d lent to us and now temporarily reclaimed. The wheels bumped over a pothole in the near-abandoned dirt road with a lurch and a squeal. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything. You do like to top yourself, don’t you?”

  “Believe me, I’d rather not have in this particular way,” I muttered. Sunlight wavered over us from between the sparse trees along the side of the road. Its intermittent light wasn’t enough to provide any comfort. “Thanks for coming back. I mean, after everything you must have heard from Eric...”

  Jagger’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “He’s not a bad kid, but he could do with a little more thinking before he acts. If you are who he says you are, then I can’t see how he or I are better equipped to handle the situation.”

  He left that statement between us like a question, for me to confirm or deny. I opted for the middle ground.

  “I’m sure any ideas you have about that are highly distorted by time and imagination. The stories don’t get a whole lot right.”