The Price of Survival (Journey of an Arbais Mage Book 2)

by Meagan Hurst

  “Good. The bedroom I want you to stay in is the second door on the left, use it.” His eyes narrowed. “Where are your packs?”

  “I didn’t bring them with me. I left them with Shanii, so they are probably halfway across the world by now.”

  “You left your— You are unbelievably impossible at times.” Putting his hand over his eyes the Dragon muttered unpleasantly about humans under his breath for several minutes before he managed to speak to her again. “I’ll check the bathing room for danger. Try to stay alive while I am gone.”

  “Do you expect the Arriandin to attack me or something?” she demanded to know harshly.

  “No, but Arriandie is home to more than the Arriandin and your Mithane. Do recall last time you were here you had two attempts on your life in a very short span of time.” The Dragon vanished before she could form a reply.

  Growling under her breath about the Dragon’s annoying qualities, Z eyed the entry room with disgust. It was far too well furnished for her preferences, but Nivaradros had successfully squashed her complaints before she could even voice them. It irritated her to no end, but she had nothing to contest him with that didn’t sound ridiculous in her own mind. She therefore had no desire to hear how it sounded out loud.

  She also knew how much more difficult the Dragon would become if she hadn’t been to the bedroom he had mentioned by the time he got back. For whatever reason, it was clear Nivaradros wasn’t going to allow her to pick her own room. Heading to the second door she saw on the left, she stopped dead as her eyes were drawn to a twisting design on the wall between the door she was passing and the door she was heading towards.

  “Nivaradros!” she shrieked before shielding with magic as the glowing design stopped its motion.

  There was a blast of power that let off a sound like a gong when it hit her shield. Having seen this attack before it had hit, she was able to concentrate on reading the magic as it struck and surrounded her shield. It was trying to break through, to find a weakness.

  Good luck with that, she thought coldly with a smile.

  Her vision barely allowed her to see it, but she watched as it took the form of an almost transparent cloud. It continued to swirl around her protection, and she read it as it moved. When she was finished her smile turned even colder. She didn’t know—yet—who had created the attack, but the minute she caught them in her line of vision she would know, and she would handle it.

  Time felt as if wasn’t moving at all, but there was a booming voice behind her, and the single word spoken caused the cloud to vanish. As Nivaradros didn’t require words to use his magic, she could only assume he was beyond furious. Then again, he did seem to take offense when someone tried to kill her. Now that they were friends it made sense, but back when he had been trying to kill her it had been baffling. She would never understand Dragons.

  “I wasn’t done with that,” Z chided Nivaradros as she dropped her shield and turned to face him.

  “Too bad for you,” Nivaradros snarled. His eyes were neon and his hands were fists. Both calmed slightly when he appeared to realize she was unharmed. “Did you have enough time to be able to tell who was behind that attack if you catch them in your sight?” he wanted to know.

  “Yes,” she told him with a chilly smile. “I’ll even let you contend with him when I see him, or her,” she added as an afterthought. “Although I will say that seemed decidedly male.” As the Dragon raised a brow, she shrugged. “It’s something I’ve noticed. Different races seem to follow certain trends in magic, and then there seem to be certain patterns that appeal more to certain genders. This spell was created and executed in a more Alantaion male style.”

  “I see,” Nivaradros replied slowly. “That is a rather concerning evaluation, but I will take your word for it.” He was decidedly calmer now, since the threat—for the moment—had passed, but the Dragon’s expression was indecipherable. “Your bath is ready.”

  “Did you remember to spell the water?” she wanted to know.

  “Of course,” Nivaradros replied dryly, surprising her by getting the jest. “I know how much you like to drown.”

  Flashing him a smile, she backed away from the door she had been heading towards and turned to head off towards the door the Dragon had so recently come through. She was almost there when the Dragon spoke her name.

  “Yes?” she called as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Who would have access to my quarters? Just the servants, or do I need to be concerned about an unknown party entering the wing?”

  “Anyone who wanted it. While you’re in the room the Arriandin would block anyone from entering who you didn’t want—which, in your case is, oh, everyone—but when you are gone the Alantaions can pretty much wander where they choose. Unless it’s someone’s official quarters in a permanent manner the castle’s considered open. You’re only a guest, so the Arriandin is unlikely to close your rooms off. Especially since it’s you. No offense, Niv, but the Arriandin isn’t fond of you, so if someone wanted to try to kill you, it is likely he would support the attempt. That may change if I continue to remain here.”

  “Ah, that explains how Alantaions manage to assassinate each other on occasion. Granted, due to their number and their immortal lifespan I would have expected a higher death rate, but it has happened at least a hundred times.”

  “Six hundred and fifty-seven in the last three thousand years,” Z corrected absently. “But if you were hoping to narrow the list of suspects down on my attackers, the only way to do that would be to appeal to the Arriandin or wait until I spot him.”

  The Dragon’s expression told her exactly what he thought about approaching the living awareness of the Alantaion’s castle. As she was certain the castle hated him due to his hand in the Mithana’s death, she didn’t blame him.

  “Go take your bath before the water grows cold,” he said stiffly. She nodded calmly in reply and vanished through the door before he could call her back.

  Clean and dry—except for her damp hair—sometime later, Z emerged to find the Dragon pacing anxiously outside the door. “The water didn’t bite,” she told him quickly.

  “Good,” the Dragon replied in a tone that told her he was on edge.

  She was tempted to call Kyi’rinn and work that edge off Nivaradros, but she was tired now, and she wasn’t sure she would stay properly tired after a two hour or so match against the Dragon. To make matters worse, Nivaradros seemed to know where her thoughts were.

  “Bed,” he ordered firmly. “Three weeks without sleep isn’t healthy for a mortal of any race—and you’re human—so until you are no longer mortal, I will bully you into sleeping if I have to.”

  And Dragons were very efficient when it came to bullying. Sighing, she nodded curtly and glanced down at the towel she wore. Her clothing was dirty, stained, and would just feel rough against her clean skin, but since she didn’t have her packs, she didn’t have any other clothing.

  “I’ve seen you naked often enough,” Nivaradros pointed out, correctly guessing her thoughts. “And as I want to take inventory of your condition and your new scars—you always have new ones so don’t argue—you might as well forget about clothing for the night. I will speak with the Mithane about finding you something for the morning,” the Dragon added.

  Because sleeping without clothing was something she did all the time. Well, truthfully, it wasn’t all that uncommon. Sighing inwardly, Z tried to tell herself it wouldn’t be all that awkward. The problem was it already was awkward, but the thought of another verbal dance with the Dragon was exhausting enough that Z conceded the battle. She did give the Dragon a black look before moving frigidly past him and into the bedroom.

  Oh dear. One look around the room that lit up as she walked into it made her leave it far quicker than she should have been able to, or she tried to leave it in a hurry. The damn Dragon happened to be standing in the doorway. He caught her as she backed into him.

  “It is a room. With items. Some o
f them are shiny, yes,” the Dragon said in a condescending tone. “If you would prefer, I can blind you for the night so you don’t have to know what is, or is not in the room.”

  As she had already seen the room that offer was less tempting than it could have been. “Nivaradros!” she hissed as she whirled to face him.

  “Were you attacked by gold and emeralds in a past life or something?” the Dragon demanded curtly. “It is money, Z. The Mithane lives in a castle—he is a ruler as I am certain you will recall if you think about it. He has to display his power in a way that is easily recognizable, but doesn’t send anyone running for the hills, or mobilizing a force to remove him from his position. That’s all this stuff is for. It’s for show. Learn to tolerate it. I know you know this. What baffles me to no end is why you can’t accept it.”

  “Tenia,” she whispered before she even realized what she had said.

  Nivaradros’s eyes shifted colors so quickly she couldn’t pin down his mood. “Don’t you ever, ever say that name again,” he whispered dangerously. “He is dead,” he added as he took a step towards her, causing her to back into the room as he continued to walk forward.

  “Damned idiot he was he didn’t deserve you, and yet he managed to destroy you. The Mithane is not the former King of the former Tenian kingdom. He cares for you as though you were his daughter. Do not insult him by having an issue with this room. In fact, don’t you ever comment on the design of a room again in his—or anyone else’s—lands. It is a display of power you should be grateful to be worthy of. There is no magic involved in it.” The Dragon’s tone was menacing, and his stance mirrored his tone; both were a threat. “Now. Bed.”

  “What if I would rather talk to you?” Z stammered as she backed up a step.

  “About what?” Nivaradros demanded distrustfully. “Not getting into bed?”

  Sadly, if she hadn’t felt so off balance the answer would have been ‘Yes.’ “About where I was, and some of the things that happened—?” It was meant to be a statement, but the Dragon’s anger was so powerful her words changed into a question.

  The Dragon looked slightly nonplussed at the offer. “Let me see your form first. You can explain your scars as I find them.”

  Turning slowly around so she faced the room she had been trying to avoid, Z let the towel drop and weathered the stare of the Dragon as he compared her scarred body to the memory he had of the scars she had taken with her when she had left. He found—no surprise—the new ones with ease.

  “Midestol’s work?” he wanted to know as he stood in front of her after making a round and touched the wide purple scar that ran from just below her lowest rib on her left side down to her left hip.

  “The wound he gave me as I fled,” Z confirmed as the Dragon traced the scar. It was hard to keep from attacking him, but it was not as hard as she expected it to be. She trusted him here, and nothing he did betrayed her trust. Plus, her time away was finally overlapping with her past, and the control she had achieved while she was gone was hers again. For now.

  “You should have let the Mithane heal it,” he muttered as his eyes went to her lightning for a second. “But I suppose you had no choice,” the Dragon said bitterly before she could. His hand moved slightly upwards towards a more recent wound that had left an indentation over her third rib on her right side. The rest of it was dangerously close to her heart. “This one should have killed you,” he murmured as he lightly traced it.

  “It nearly did,” Z admitted angrily. “It wasn’t meant for me, but if I hadn’t taken it someone important to the future of the lands where I was would have died.”

  “Someone important is always being threatened when you are injured like this,” Nivaradros pointed out as he continued his examination of the wound. “You punctured your lung,” he remarked unhappily. “You must have had other internal bleeding. How did you survive?”

  Z grimaced. “I used a spell chip the Mithane gave me ages ago.”

  Nivaradros was surprised. “He can make one?” the Dragon asked in a tone that told her the Mithane had just gained an inch more of respect. The new relationship between Nivaradros and the Mithane was interesting to see. She wasn’t certain which of them was more startled by it: Nivaradros, the Mithane, or her. “And you used it?” His surprise was more over her use, sadly, than the fact the Alantaion had made something that had only been a theory before.

  “It was use it or die,” Z informed him grimly. “Dying wasn’t high on my list of things to accomplish at that moment in time.”

  Nivaradros chuckled. “That is the most comforting thing you have said since you got here.” His fixed her with a stare that recommended no arguments. “Bed.”

  “You are being ridiculously focused on that,” she told him stiffly, but as the room had a slight chill to it she did follow his advice.

  “Now,” the Dragon began once she was under the covers and glaring at him again. “What happened where you were? Were there immortals? What were they like? What kind of a ruling class was there? Did they have magic?”

  The Dragon continued to throw questions at her, and Z managed a smile as she patiently began to reply. She wouldn’t tell Nivaradros everything—hells, she wouldn’t even tell him half—but she was willing to share what she could easily explain. It would reassure him that she had not completely lost her mind while she had been away.

  It was surprisingly easy to speak with Nivaradros. Her time away—and the people she’d learned to count on—made her relationship with the Dragon both easier and yet more complicated than she had expected. His time with the Alantaions and the humans she had saved from Tenia’s destruction had also had an effect on Nivaradros. He was more than willing to let her think her way through things than she remembered, and if she abruptly halted the conversation and changed topics his eyes didn’t even brighten with annoyance.

  But there was a lot she wouldn’t tell him. There was even more she could not. The Ranger side of her was unwilling to possibly endanger the world she had lived in for eight weeks that world’s time—eight months in her time—and with immortals, oversharing information was dangerous. If she somehow returned to the world she had been so comfortable in, she didn’t want anyone who happened to come with her to be a danger. Nivaradros, by nature, was enough of a threat.

  “I’m not certain you would have liked any of the beings,” she admitted when he once again pressed her. A small part of her wanted to explain the races with actual names, but she had a small suspicion Nivaradros’s race had started out in the world—some of them were still present—she had just left. In case her suspicions were correct, she didn’t want it known she had discovered the former world of the Dragons was still in existence and doing fairly well.

  Green eyes danced slightly. “I doubt I would have liked them myself, but that doesn’t mean I am willing to accept your silence in the matter. Why is it so important to you that I be kept in the dark regarding the names of these races? You admitted there were humans after all.”

  “Humans seem to be the race that has infected nearly every world I’ve been to so far. Plus, it’s not like you can hold them in greater disdain than you already do. Honestly, Nivaradros, can’t I have some secrets? I left in decent standing; no one should be seeking me out for either my return or my demise.”

  “Could they even?”

  “Travel here? Doubtful. To them travel between worlds isn’t something easily achieved.”

  Nivaradros snorted. “Z, outside of you, travel between worlds isn’t something most can accomplish. You seem to have a … knack for it. Is that the right word?”

  “You have been spending way too much time with humans,” she told him sourly.

  “Someone had to keep Shevieck safe.”

  And he had. How he had was something she feared to discover. “I owe you,” she told him softly. “I would never have asked you to do that.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have, but you owe me nothing. Shevieck is a disaster, yes, but he is someone I have
come to tolerate. Plus, his people seem to have this universal expression they reserve for him. As much as they are unwilling to kill him, I am also confident most of them cannot stand to be in his presence for any length of time.”

  “Neither could you at one time.”

  “He helped us save the world. He also refused to side with the Shades following your demise. He needed to be watched, Z, and I was the best equipped for the job. Besides, he means something to you.”

  She didn’t argue with him, but she wasn’t certain she agreed. “Regardless, thank you,” she murmured as she watched him.

  The smile he offered her was the same strange one she had gotten so used to seeing when they had last worked together. A swift reminder of one similar to it surfaced, and she coughed as her thoughts compared the two. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. She had managed to accept contact in a very different manner than she usually allowed—than she had ever allowed—while she had been away from her lands. The immortal she’d been with had had a similar smile in the beginning. It made her question Nivaradros’s intentions all over again. What, exactly, did Nivaradros want from her now?

  Chapter 2

  Z awoke to a cuttingly sharp argument going on between Nivaradros and a familiar newcomer. Since her sleep had been a battle to achieve—and had been broken more times than it hadn’t been—Z had a feeling she had only managed to gain maybe two hours of sleep total. It was not enough to benefit her.

  It has also taken her and the Dragon time to figure out how she could tolerate his presence in the room again. As a result, being woken now, when she had just been on the edge of sleeping for possibly a whole hour without waking, did nothing to help her already sour mood. Massaging her forehead seemed like a good idea. She never got headaches—it was a pain thing, and therefore something she couldn’t experience—but she had a feeling if she did she would have awoken with a large one.

  “Nivaradros, you are being entirely unfair,” Crilyne said in a voice that was low enough to be classified as a whisper, but cold and hard enough that Z could hear it without straining.