Dragon Red: A Fire Unfed (The Dragonlords of Xandakar Book 2)

by Macy Babineaux

  Three days had passed. His brother was gone. They would not find him now. Kal had spent that entire first night flying in the deserts around the palace, keeping low and scanning for any sign. He had found nothing.

  The owls had shown up the next day, a tiny old woman, a young woman, and an old man. Between Kal’s testimony and the fact that his brother had fled, the investigation into Karth Wildfire’s death was quick. Hamryk’s name was cleared. The serving girl Agna had confessed as well, giving them the name of a poison-maker in the Dark Bazaar to the west. He was gone by the time the soldiers arrived.

  A knock came at the door to Kal’s chambers. He hoped it was Thalia. He didn’t want to see anyone else.

  “Come,” he said.

  The door opened, and thankfully there she was. Thalia poked her head inside. “Is now a bad time?”

  “No,” he said. “Come in.”

  She stepped inside, wearing one of his sister’s orange and crimson dresses. The difference between the frightened girl in the forest he had met just a week ago and the stunning woman standing before him was remarkable. So too had been the transformation in his feelings.

  She walked across the room and slid her arms around his waist as he put his arms around her. Her hair smelled like summer grass. Her body felt soft and comforting. After all that had happened, Thalia had been the constant. She had saved his life and stolen his heart.

  He pulled back to look into her beautiful brown eyes. “I still haven’t had a chance to properly thank you for everything,” he said.

  “And how would you go about thanking me?” she asked.

  He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face towards him, then leaned in to kiss her. Thalia’s lips tasted like the petals of a newly-blossomed flower, soft and gentle. She was so innocent and yet so strong. Even after all his memories had returned, he realized he had never met a woman like her.

  “One in particular springs to mind,” Kal said. He ran his hands along her back, pulling her tight against his body. Her plump breasts pushed against his chest and he felt himself harden. She likely felt it too, because she blushed, a wicked little smile forming on her lips.

  She put her small hands on his chest. “I want to,” she said. “More than anything. But I’ve never been with…that is to say, I’ve never—”

  He leaned in and kissed her softly once more. “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “Our love is the only thing that does.” He reached down to scoop her up into his arms. She put her arms around his neck, her face beaming.

  Kal took two steps to the bed, then a loud knock came at the door. He sighed and gave her wry smile.

  “Perhaps we could be quiet,” she said. “Pretend we’re not here.”

  “I’m not sure I would be able to be quiet while I do to you what I wish,” he said.

  She blushed again. “Me neither.”

  He set her back on her feet, and she straightened her dress.

  “Enter,” Kal said in a loud voice.

  The door swung open and the three owl-mages entered, all wearing the white robes of their kind.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting,” the old woman said.

  Kal cleared his throat, folding his hands in front of the bulge in his armor. “Not at all,” he said.

  The old woman’s eyes looked him up and down, smiling. “My time here is done,” she said. “Horgath and I will be returning to the One Tree soon, but Olia will stay here as your new advisor.” She nodded at the young woman, her short brown hair cut like a bowl around her head. She had the large, curious eyes of all the owls and a slender nose. She didn’t look like much of an advisor to Kal, but the old woman, Magda, was the leader of their kind. His father had put his trust in her. All the dragonlords had. And so would he.

  “As you say,” Kal said.

  “The crown will pass to you,” Magda said. “However you wish to handle the formalities is up to you.”

  His father would have thrown a great feast. But he was not his father. People needed to know the transition had taken place, to be reassured that a new leader was at the helm. But having some ostentatious ceremony seemed wrong in the wake of his father’s murder. Perhaps later he would ask his new advisor what she thought.

  “All that is left to discuss is the issue of your new bride,” Magda said.

  Kal glanced at Thalia and smiled.

  “Your father was to wed Myrian Moonglow,” the owl-mage said. “So now that arrangement falls to you.”

  “What?” Kal felt as if his chest had been pierced by a spear.

  “The marriage will seal the alliance between the red and the white,” Magda said.

  “I cannot,” Kal said. “I love Thalia. She is to be my bride.”

  The owls looked quizzically at one another.

  “You have known her for only a few days,” Magda said. “She is rabbitfolk and you are a dragon. This cannot be.”

  Kal balled his fists at his side. He could feel the heat rising in his chest. “Why?” he asked. “This woman has shown herself to be more resourceful and courageous than any dragon I have ever known. The dragonlords like to think their strength affords them respect and power. But Thalia has taught me that the size of your heart is more important than anything else. And hers is the greatest I have ever known.” He moved by her side and took her by the hand. “If she will not be my queen, then I will not be king.”

  “No,” Thalia whispered to him. “I can’t let you do this.”

  He turned to her, a wistful smile on his lips, and took both her hands in his. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She smiled as they slipped to roll down both round cheeks.

  The owls were whispering among themselves. Finally, Magda straightened up and turned to Kal.

  “This was the pact your kind made,” she said. “For you to marry the Moonglow princess, this is the way of things.”

  “Perhaps there needs to be a new way,” Kal said. “The Everfrost king was meant to marry my sister, but that alliance failed when he wed the outsider.”

  “That could not be helped,” Magda said.

  “Neither can my love for Thalia,” Kal said. “Look, something is happening, some dark and ugly force is attempting to rip our world apart, to take control. With your powers, you must feel it.”

  The way the owls looked nervously at one another, Kal knew he was right.

  “My brother killed my father and tried to kill me,” Kal said. “The only reason he failed is because of Thalia. I will not relinquish my love for her for the sake of an agreement my ancestors made. If that means I have to leave the throne to someone else, so be it.”

  Magda glared at him with her huge brown eyes, studying him. Finally she sighed. “Much of what you say is true,” she said. “There is no other. Your sister is banished. Besides, like yourself her heart belongs to one outside of her kind. If Thalia is half the woman you say, she will make a fine queen. Olia will still stay here, though I will return to the council to discuss what comes next.”

  Kal nodded. “Thank you.”

  “You should not be thanking me,” Magda said. “You are right about dark forces stirring in Xandakar. But abandoning who we are and pacts that have served us for so long may bring about our downfall more quickly than some external enemy.”

  The old owl-mage turned away and left with her companions before he could think of something to say. And what was there to say? Perhaps the old owl was right. But he had been put in the spot where he had to choose between Thalia and abiding by the word of the owls. That choice had been easier than he would have thought.

  Thalia was wiping the tears from her cheeks with her palms. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  He bent down and kissed her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. “You don’t need to say anything.”

  She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I think I need to return to my chambers. Perhaps we can talk a
gain later?”

  He felt his heart pound in his chest. He took a deep breath as well. “I look forward to it.”

  She gave him one last smile, then left as well.

  Was he doing the right thing? Perhaps he should have given up the throne. But who would rule then? The void of power may have led to another war as neighboring dragonlords vied to take control of the uncontested lands. And yet, by not forming an alliance with the Moonglows, he might have also made war more likely.

  But he could not have chosen otherwise. Once his memories had returned, memories of years lost to playing about with women, avoiding his true feelings, he realized what had been missing all this time. And Thalia had given him that.

  He walked out onto the balcony and into the sun, putting his hands on the brass railing. He looked out over the lands of the burning sands, now his to rule. He didn’t want the power, but now that it was his, he would do his best to wield it justly.

  The sounds of a bird’s wings fluttered overhead. Kal looked up to see a crow flying down to land on the balcony nearby. The black bird looked strangely familiar.

  It let out a single loud caw, then began to change. He should have known. He should have remembered.

  Within the span of a heartbeat the crow had become a woman. She had long hair the color of coal, beautiful dark eyes, and creamy pale skin. She stood naked, grinning, and leaned back against the railing.

  “You remember me,” she said. “Do you not?”

  “Cordella,” he said. “The witch.”

  She put on a mock pout. “That is my name,” she said. “But you either do not remember I don’t like to be called a witch or do not care. It does not matter.”

  She was enticing to look upon, but Kal felt no real pull to her, if that’s why she had come. He loved Thalia now. There was no need for anyone else.

  “I should thank you,” he said. “Is that why you are here?”

  “No, my king,” Cordella said. “We bartered a fair exchange in the desert. Nothing more is asked. Nothing more is required.” She stepped toward him, reaching out to run a finger down his chest. “But I would not say no to another taste.”

  “No,” he said. “I am in love.”

  “Are you?” she asked, her eyes widening in mock surprise. “The rabbit girl?”

  “Her name is Thalia.”

  “I know,” Cordella said, stepping back. “Good for you.” She laughed.

  “You find something humorous?”

  “Yes,” she said. “My riddle sent you far to the east, then as far back to the west as possible. You found the feather? And swam in the lagoon?”

  “I did,” he said, pulling the feather from inside the vest of his armor. “As you foretold, the first recovered my powers, the second my mind.”

  Cordella shook her head, smiling. She took the feather from his hand. “No,” she said. “You did not need either. The feather of the white hawk holds no special power. Neither do the waters of the Lost Lagoon. There was only one thing you needed to find in your journeys, and luckily you did.”

  The feather and the lagoon were not real? He looked back on the time since he set out from her hut in search of these things. He had found them, but she was right. He had also found something else. Someone else.

  “Thalia,” he whispered. "Without the flame, our world is dead. Feed the fire that remains unfed." Was that how it went? "Love," Kal said. "You were talking about love."

  “Yes,” Cordella said. “The power to shift and fly was inside you all along. So were your memories. Going to those places did nothing to bring your old self back. But who you found, who went with you, did. Your love for her restored who you are. In a way, her love gave birth to a new you.”

  “Why did you help me?” he asked. “And why do you tell me these things now?”

  Cordella glanced sideways at the door. “The owls have their own agenda. The dragons have put power in their hands, but perhaps that was not so wise. They are leaving an owl here to advise you. If you would allow it, I would be your true advisor. I could never publicly visit your court. But we could meet like this from time to time. There are those of us who do not trust the owls. I am a daughter of the desert, and my allegiance belongs only to you.”

  Kal wasn’t sure what to think of her offer. Unlike his father before him, he actually didn’t trust the owls much either. And Cordella had helped him, more than he could ever say. But had she only done that to work her way to the side of a new king? He would need to be wary, but he had more reason to trust her than Magda.

  “Yes,” he said. “You may visit, from time to time. But in the future you will cover yourself.”

  “Ah,” she said, tracing the tip of the feather under one bare breast. “Is my lack of clothing such a distraction?”

  “Do you wish me to change my mind?”

  “No,” she said, straightening up. “Forgive me, your majesty. We are all servants of our own nature and creatures of our own desires. Until we meet again.”

  As he pondered her words, trying to form a response, she shifted. The crow flapped its black wings, letting out a loud caw just over the balcony. Then Cordella flew up and away.

  Birds, Kal thought, leaning his arms on the railing. He wasn’t sure he could fully trust either Cordella or the owls. The only person he completely trusted now was Thalia. In the days ahead, he would keep his own council and let his love for her guide them through whatever fate might bring.

  20: Nevra

  She walked down the narrow passage leading into the mountain chamber. The air smelled different here now, the remnants of some kind of fire. Was Marko here? Had he burned something?

  She emerged into the main chamber, only to find it empty. She had hoped he would be here. They had much to discuss. She and her father were set to leave for the Emerald Isle in the morning. There she would meet the man who was supposed to be her future husband, Vander Tanglevine.

  Her spies had informed her of what had happened at the Wildfire palace. She had come here the first chance she had gotten, and she had expected to find Marko.

  He had been a horrible disappointment. But he could probably still be of some use. She would find a way to turn the ash of their defeat into the fertile grounds of a new plan.

  Speaking of ash, she thought. There was a black glass bowl sitting on the low table in the center of the room. It was filled with her favorite bright white powder.

  Nevra walked to the table. Yes, this seemed to be where that burning smell was coming from. The mound of demon ash was high. The powder looked soft and fresh.

  Where had it come from?

  Ah well. Did it really matter? She scooped up a tiny pile with her pinkie fingernail and lifted it to her nose. As she breathed it in, the light and darkness filled her mind at the same time. There was something else, too, a fiery flavor to the ash that suffused itself throughout her being.

  Then she realized what had happened, where the fresh ash had come from, and she felt part of him inside of her. Her hands were shaking at the realization.

  But then she relaxed, letting a smile form on her lips. This was good. Marko had been the weak link. She would find another. Vish’Kazir would help her. She doubted he was displeased with her. That was a possibility, but she wasn’t going to run. The well of her ambition ran too deep.

  Maybe she could bend Vander to her will, though she thought that was unlikely. She would probably have to proceed with the plans for him that were already in place. And then, with him out of the way, perhaps she could simply rule all of Xandakar on her own. Why not?

  Nevra didn’t bother with a fingernail this time. She bent directly over the bowl of white powder and sniffed up a healthy dose into both nostrils. Every wall of the chamber exploded with light and colors she had never even imagined she could perceive.

  Oh Marko, she thought. Perhaps you’re finally some bit of use after all.

  Then she headed for the prison pit to talk to the demon and chart a new set of plans. Along the way, she laughed
and laughed, feeling like a newborn god.

  21: Thalia

  The wind rushed across her face and body as they flew. She had promised to keep her eyes closed.

  “Almost there,” his deep, rumbling voice said over the noise of the whipping air.

  They had been wed less than an hour ago, in the north tower of the palace. The ceremony had been small. The owl Olia had officiated. The servant girl Sola had helped her pick out a dress, an elegant gown of crimson and white. Kal wore his red armor, as always. But his hair was combed back, his short black beard trimmed. She had liked the way he had looked during their travels, a little rough around the edges. But this was nice, too, well-groomed and handsome. Regal, even.

  The owl-mage had chanted the vows and placed the sash across their clasped hands. It had glowed as she spoke the words, and Thalia could feel some kind of energy passing between them. They had already been connected somehow before, but the ritual had made that connection even deeper, binding their very souls together.

  He had kissed her, a long, loving kiss that only made her long for more. Then he had surprised her by telling her they were to leave at once. The conspiracies, the dark forces aligning against them, that could all wait for at least one night.

  Then Kal had shifted into dragon form and she had climbed up on his back.

  Now she felt him begin to descend, flying in a low arc. The thump of the landing jolted her, but she held fast. She heard the twitter of birds and the sound of churning water.

  “Open your eyes,” Kal said.

  She already knew what she would see. The water of the lagoon was as blue as ever, framed by the white sand. The bright green leaves of the jungle surrounded them, making this place feel like their own private hideaway. Water cascaded into a foaming roil at the other end. The sun was low in the sky. Soon night would come.

  She slid off his neck, warm sand pushing up between the toes of her bare feet. She was still wearing her wedding dress, and she bunched the hem up in her hands.

  Kal shifted back into human form. “Do you like it?” he asked.