Miranda put her hand on Astra’s arm. Her skin felt cool, but smooth and inviting. She felt her nipples harden underneath the dress. What are you, crazy? she thought to herself. Cut it out. You don’t need to be flirting with this woman. You need to be coming clean.
“Astra?” Miranda said, addressing her reflection in the mirror.
“Yes, Siccora?” Astra said, smiling.
Miranda took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Astra slid her arms away from Miranda, who turned around to face her. “Anything, sister,” Astra said. “What is it?”
Miranda opened her mouth, intending to let it all spill out. I’m not Siccora Wildfire. My name is Miranda Betts and I’m a waitress in a shitty little greasy spoon in Oklahoma. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know where I should be, but it isn’t here, with people that turn into owls and dragons. The real Siccora gave me the necklace and I just put it on and it brought me here and—
She didn’t get a chance to get the first word out. As soon as she opened her mouth, a deep bellowing sound echoed outside the walls of the keep. Miranda had played the flute in junior high school, and she remembered one section of a song where the tubas blew long, deep notes all by themselves. This was like that. She could feel the vibrations of the deep, resonant notes making the light hair on her arms quiver and tickle.
Astra’s eyes widened. “They’re here.”
Oh fuck, Miranda thought. That meant Daddy Wildfire, Siccora’s real father. Then she remembered what Astra had said. In flight. Oh my God, she thought. They’re dragons, too.
“You’ll have to share your news another time, sister,” she said, taking Miranda by the hand and pulling her towards the door. “Come, they’ll be landing in the courtyard. Aren’t you excited to see your father after all these years?”
Yeah, Miranda thought, her stomach twisting into a knot. I’m absolutely thrilled.
This was her last chance, the final opportunity to own up to the deception. What the hell were they going to do to her when they found out she was a lowly human instead of the chosen bride?
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Sure, let’s go.”
Astra led her from the North Wing toward the center of the keep. Together they climbed a set of stairs that led straight up into the open air, a giant courtyard surrounded on all four sides by the interior walls. There were a few trees, but mostly the courtyard looked like a giant football field, its sides enclosed, but open to the sky above.
“Wow,” Miranda said as they reached the top of the stairs. “This place is beautiful.”
“Everfrost Keep holds many wonders,” Astra said. “And you’ve only seen a small fraction of our home.”
A shadow fell over the sun, and Miranda looked up to see a half a dozen or more dragons high above. What did you call a group dragons, she wondered. A flock? A herd? There was no Google here, so she’d just have to keep on wondering, because she damn sure wasn’t going to ask. Her mind had the habit of latching onto the trivial in the middle of a crisis.
Whatever the group of dragons flying over them was called, one of them was supposed to be her father. He was about to land down here, call her out as an imposter, and then what?
How about a flagon of dragons? She almost laughed at that, but was able to restrain herself. If she started laughing now, she’d probably become hysterical, and that would only make things worse.
The dragons began to descend, beating their mighty wings. Miranda kept her face raised, squinting at the whirling wind they created. Her hair blew around her head. She'd seen people on TV and in movies near helicopters when they landed. She thought this must be what that's like, only with half a dozen helicopters that were really mythical beasts.
She was surprised to note how different they all looked. For some reason she thought they would all look the same. But even though they were all red, each had distinctive characteristics. Some had black ridges along their wings, while others didn’t. The configurations of horns or spikes across their heads were all unique.
The largest had a black, leathery frill along his lower jaw, like a beard. He landed first, about twenty feet in front of the women, the ground shaking under Miranda’s feet as his clawed feet hit. A dragon with what looked like gold flaking across the scales of his wings landed next to the big one, and then the others landed behind in succession.
Miranda counted seven of them. They shifted into human form together, as if there were seven humans standing in the courtyard simply absorbing the dragons that had flown in from above. Miranda heard the crunching and crackling of their scaled skin collapsing, maybe even their bones shortening and reknitting.
She’d seen a man shift into an owl and another into a dragon, but this was her first time seeing a group of dragons transform into humans. She figured no matter how many times she saw this kind of thing happen, she would never get used to it. But she tried not to look amazed. She was supposed to be one of them after all.
The leader stood a head taller than the others. His head spines lengthened into thick black hair. The frill at the throat of the dragon became a heavy beard the color of charcoal. Just like Corban, the men before them all wore armor of overlapping scales, though theirs were red.
The huge man smiled, his teeth large and white. His dark eyes twinkled.
“There she is!” he bellowed. “My beloved daughter.”
He opened his arms wide and began to walk toward Miranda. She figured she should probably go to him and throw her arms around him, but she was frozen in place, transfixed by fear. So she stood there, arms hugging herself, staring at the mountain of a man who was supposed to be her father.
Five paces from her, he stopped. He lowered his arms, his eyes grew wide, and his smile faded. This is it, Miranda thought. The jig is up. I’m screwed.
“By the horn of the Golden One,” he whispered. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Was he screwing with her? She didn’t think so. She could see tears welling up in his eyes, and she couldn’t help feeling as if she were going to start crying herself. Her own father had left them when she was five. She had only vague memories of him, faded snapshots in the back of her mind. But here was a flesh-and-blood man who thought she was his daughter, who he obviously dearly loved. And who cared if it was a lie?
“Daddy?” she said, opening her arms wide. He ran the rest of the way then, his boot steps thundering on the ground, and wrapped his massive arms around her. He lifted her into the air, hugging her tight. Too tight for Miranda. She felt like he was crushing her. Damn these people are strong, she thought. But she didn’t care. It had been a long time, too long, since someone had shown that kind of genuine affection to her, and she drank it in, hugging him back as hard as she could.
Over his shoulder she saw the man who had been standing next to him, handsome and young, with curly black locks and a slender face. He had been the one with gold flakes in his wings. He was looking at her with a strange expression on his face, a mixture of curiosity and what might have been contempt. Did he realize she was a fraud? How could he, if her own father couldn’t?
The man holding her set her down and gripped her by the shoulders, looking down at her with complete adoration.
“My little Siccora,” he said. “I should never have let that owl hag send you away.”
“Karth Wildfire,” Astra said, giving a graceful little curtsey. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Everfrost Keep. May it be the first of many such visits.”
“Gods,” he said. “Where are my manners? I’m afraid they all went up in smoke when I saw my little girl here.” Karth turned to Astra who offered her hand. He took it and bowed, putting his lips just over her hand. Miranda expected him to plant a kiss there, but instead he pursed his lips and let out a tiny puff of gray smoke.
Astra laughed. Even that sound was beautiful.
“Thank you for so graciously inviting us,” Karth said, straightening
up and smiling. “Oh, and when I said that about Siccora here being the most beautiful, that was not meant as a slight to you.”
Astra gave a sideways glance at Miranda. “No offense taken,” she said. “Your daughter is magnificent.”
Karth took a step back and waved his hand at the young man who had landed by his side. “Let me introduce my son, Marko,” he said.
The young dragon prince bowed, gold flecks in his armor glinting in the sun.
“Lady Everfrost,” he said, nodding at Astra. Then he trained that strange look back on Miranda. “Sister.”
Miranda opted for trying to curtsey the way Astra had, pulling it off pretty nicely.
“The rest are members of my royal guard,” Karth said. The men in red armor bowed in unison. Karth looked up at the walls. “A fine place you have here. But this opening seems like just the place for an invading force to land.”
“No doubt you notice the clefts in the walls,” Astra said. “I would pity the invading clan that decided to fly straight into the middle of our keep. Those openings are manned by archers and harpooners in times of war.”
“Ah,” Karth said, laughing. “Then it's a good thing that our clans are so friendly.”
“We’ll be friendlier still after tomorrow’s ceremony,” Astra said.
Karth looked back at Miranda. “Yes, I do hope your brother takes good care of my baby girl. Speaking of which, whereabouts is the Blue King?”
“I’m so sorry he’s not here to greet you, your Highness,” Astra said. “He had a very pressing matter to attend to.”
There she goes again, Miranda thought. Apologizing for Corban. His pressing matter was probably getting another blow job from that deer slut.
“Come,” Astra said, taking Karth by the arm. “Let me show you and your men to the guest rooms. You can rest from your long flight. Then tonight we hope you’ll join us for a feast. My brother will be there to properly honor you.”
“Only a fool turns down an invitation to a feast,” Karth said. “Will you be serving wild elk?”
“Fresh from today’s hunt,” Astra said. “Roasted in honey and pine nuts.”
Karth arched his eyebrows. “Sounds delicious.”
He held out his other arm for Miranda, who took it. Together they walked down the stairs. The other men, including Marko, fell in behind.
So far, so good, Miranda thought. She wasn’t sure just how long she could carry on this ruse, but it was too late to turn back now.
10: Corban
He stood on the walkway along the top of the north wall. The sun was nearly all the way down and a light snow was beginning to fall. He pinched the violet crystal hanging around his neck between his thumb and forefinger and lifted it up to take a better look. The stone was dark.
Corban felt a strange mixture of calm and anticipation. He was glad to finally have some tool in hand to help him find what had happened to his father, and he would be patient until whoever had taken him would dare to step foot in Xandakar again. Until then, he would need to tend to all this ridiculous marriage business.
He had intentionally snubbed the Wildfires. Let my sister smooth that over, he thought. That’s what she’s good at. But now the entire keep gathered in the Great Hall for a feast, including the guests. And his bride-to-be. Siccora. In his mind, he still wanted nothing to do with her. She was still an annoying distraction. But he had to admit, she had stirred something in him, a feeling he couldn’t shake.
Time to show his face at the banquet. He would formally greet his guests, have a cup of wine or two, then leave. After all, he was getting married tomorrow. He needed his rest.
Corban tucked the crystal away inside the vest of his armor and headed down the walkway in the direction of the Great Hall. The snow began to fall harder.
Might be a storm coming, he thought.
The Great Hall was unrecognizable from the day before, when he had talked there with Wygard and the Wildfire girl had appeared out of nowhere. Then the hall had been desolate and empty. Now it seemed as if every table and chair from the rest of the keep had been moved here, and every seat was filled. Torches ringed the great icy pillars throughout the hall, filling the vast space with warm yellow light. A band played in the far corner, the sounds of flutes and lutes carrying atop the raucous voices and laughter of the revelers.
Corban kept his head low and walked along the edge of the hall, not wanting to draw much attention. He headed for the huge table near the far end, where his sister, his fiancé, and the guests of honor would be. Along the way, he smelled the savory scents of roasted goose, mashed sweetroot, and buttery bread. His stomach growled. Perhaps he would eat something as well before leaving the party.
Once he’d gotten closer, he stopped behind a pillar and surveyed the scene. There were seven of the red clan drinking wine at the long table. Standing up to give a toast was the big man himself, Karth Wildfire. Corban’s father would never have believed the sight before him, the blue and red dragons drinking and eating together.
He saw his sister, beautiful as ever, and wished again that she were the one bound by prophecy or whatever it was to marry against her will, to form an alliance with their rivals. She laughed at something Karth was saying, then leaned over to whisper in another woman’s ear.
That other woman was his bride-to-be. He almost didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a scarlet dress, the cloth crossed across her breasts in a way that lifted them up and showed their curved edges beautifully. Her hair was different, too, pinned up with a pair of gold combs, a few locks falling on her white neck. She wore makeup now as well, her already large dark eyes seemed even brighter and more alluring, and her lips glistened a crimson that matched the gem suspended at her throat.
Miranda looked up and found his eyes watching her. She froze, staring at him. She leaned over to his sister, who hadn’t looked this way, and whispered something back. Then she got up from the table and headed in his direction.
Corban moved back behind the darkness of the pillar and leaned against it. He hated himself for feeling anything for her. He had been hoping this marriage of convenience would be nothing more than a nuisance. He had hoped he'd be able to tuck her away in some back room of the keep where she could perhaps knit all day and leave him in peace. But she was making things a lot more complicated for him. She was—
“Hello,” Miranda said. She stepped next to him into the pillar's shadow so no one could see them talk.
“Siccora,” he said, nodding his head coolly. Even saying her name made something in him stir. She was more beautiful up-close, reflections of distant torchlight flickering in her dark eyes. He couldn’t help looking down at the top of her breasts, and she caught him looking and smiled.
“I told your sister I had to take a pee,” she said.
Take a pee? What expression was this? He didn’t know if the gem around her neck was working some sorcery, or whether it was her natural beauty and charm, but he wanted her. Perhaps it was her slightly strange ways, or the odd way she talked, no doubt a result of spending most of her life on a different world. He had thought that would make her weak and unappealing, but all it did was add intriguing little flourishes to her sensuality.
“Oh,” he said, not sure what else to say. He’d never been nervous around women before and wasn’t used to it. But this close, he could smell her as well, an exotic blend of smoke and roses that made him slightly dizzy. “And do you?”
“What?”
“Have to…take a pee?”
“No, you goofball,” she laughed, giving him a light swat on the arm. “I just used it as an excuse to come talk to you.”
Goofball? The word was so ridiculous that he had to laugh too. “You look…well,” he said.
“You look pretty well yourself,” she said, her eyes moving down his chest below his waist. He felt himself stiffen and hoped it didn’t show through his armor. “Are you going to join the party?”
Corban Everfrost had never been impulsive, but at that m
oment he reached out and took her by the shoulders. He pulled her close to his body, feeling the heat of her. She let out a little gasp, then smiled.
He leaned in and put his lips near her ear. “Perhaps we can have our own.”
He felt one of her hands slide between his legs and cup him firmly. “We’re supposed to be married tomorrow,” she said. “Is this your idea of a bachelor party?”
Another phrase he didn’t recognize, but the smell and feel of her made nothing else matter. He pushed her against the stone of the pillar, then reached down and lifted the hem of her dress.
He leaned in to kiss her, but she moved her head away at the last second. “I thought I was a distraction,” she said, giggling. “I thought you ‘had no need of me’.”
“Perhaps I changed my mind,” he said. One of his hands was under the hem of her dress, moving up her thigh. The other cupped her jaw and turned her face back to his. She stopped laughing, looking him in the eye. She wanted him as well. He could see that.
He leaned in and tasted her warm, red lips, that hint of smoke on her breath along with the lingering taste of cinnamon. Was it something she had just eaten, or did she just taste like that? He found it didn’t matter. Kissing her was like lowering himself into a pool of molten rock, consuming him.
He moved his hand up her warm thigh, then slid it between her legs. His hand touched the soft, hot mound of hair. She wore no undergarments, and that realization made him harden painfully, straining against the scaled armor of his suit.
As he continued to kiss her, their tongues exploring one another’s mouths, he felt her sticky wetness on the tips of his fingers. He began to rub her, feeling the hot liquid coating his hand as he lightly stroked the surface.
She pulled her mouth from his and looked him in the eyes again. “Are you going to fuck me, your Highness?” she asked him. “In a room filled with everyone in the keep?”
Dragon Blue: A Lie That's True (The Dragonlords of Xandakar, Book1) Page 7
