by Jasmine Walt
“I do believe I can.”
“Wait a minute,” Alistair protested as Dareena rose from the bed. “You’re going to do it now? We’re not even dressed.”
“Something we’re going to remedy right now.” Dareena donned her dressing robe. “Go into my room and search the trunk. You’ll find the clothing I stashed away.”
Bemused, Alistair did as she asked, using the adjoining door. While he rummaged through the trunk, he heard Dareena open the door and call to the guard at the end of the hall.
“Excuse me, sir? Can you please fetch some water? Alistair’s fever is going back up.”
“Can’t it wait until morning?” the guard said gruffly. His voice was gritty with tiredness; he was not their usual guard, and Alistair gathered he had just been put on night shift. “I won’t be relieved from my post for another few hours.”
“Not unless you want to explain to the princess why Alistair is sick again,” Dareena said in a severe tone. “I imagine she’ll be very displeased after all the money she spent on that doctor.”
The guard heaved a sigh. “I’ll send for some. Don’t try anything funny while I’m gone. I will track you down if you try to escape.”
“Of course,” Dareena said sweetly.
Alistair pulled out a maid’s outfit that looked to be Dareena’s size. Frowning, he searched the trunk for male clothing, but came up with nothing. Had Dareena forgotten an outfit for him? He couldn’t very well go running about in his own clothes.
Alistair was nearly about to return to his room to ask Dareena about it when his hand closed around something hard and metallic. Grinning, he pulled a long, sheathed dagger that he knew Dareena had not taken from Dragonfell—they had not been allowed any weapons, and besides, this one was forged from mithril.
“I see you’ve found my surprise,” Dareena said, hurrying into the room. “Quickly now. The guard will be back any minute.”
“That’s all well and good,” Alistair said as he handed Dareena her outfit, “but what am I to wear? I imagine running about the castle naked will attract just as much attention as wearing my own clothes.”
Dareena chuckled. “As amusing as that would be, I have no plans to let you run amok with your twig and berries hanging out for everyone to see,” she said. “You’ll take the guard’s clothing, of course.”
“Of course.” Why hadn’t Alistair thought of that? Perhaps he wasn’t as fully recovered as he thought.
Alistair helped Dareena into her clothing, then double-checked both rooms to make sure they weren’t leaving anything important behind. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of anything small enough for them to take. Dareena slipped her elven magic primer into her skirt pocket, and at least Alistair would have the dagger. He might be feeling better, but he still couldn’t breathe fire—he’d tried it more than once.
A few minutes later, Alistair tensed as the guard’s footsteps came closer. At a signal from Dareena, he hung back while she waited just behind the door. “I’ve got your water, Miss,” the guard called through the door, sounding more than a little grumpy. Alistair rolled his eyes; he’d never encountered such a whiny guard in his life. Clearly this one was either new, or the captain of the guard was not training his subordinates very well.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Dareena said. She opened the door, and the guard shoved the jug into her hands. Alistair watched closely as Dareena wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and he felt that strange hum in the air. The guard’s eyes widened, then fluttered shut, and Dareena moved out of the way as he toppled over.
“Damn!” Alistair darted forward and caught the guard before he crashed onto the floor. “How did you do that?” he asked, pressing two fingers to the man’s neck. His pulse was faint, but steady, as if the guard were merely sleeping.
“I siphoned his life energy, and gave myself a boost in the process,” Dareena said, closing the door. She looked simultaneously pleased and relieved. “I’m glad I didn’t take too much—I’ve never tried this on anyone before so I had no idea if it would kill him or not. Is he all right?”
“I’m sure he’ll be even grumpier when he wakes up,” Alistair said as he stripped off the guard’s clothing, “but unless you damaged something internally, he should be fine.”
“Good. Let’s get going then.”
Alistair donned the guard’s clothing, fastening the elf’s sword to his left hip along with the dagger. He’d practiced some with his left hand, and though he knew he wouldn’t be winning any duels, he could use the dagger to great effect in close quarters, or distract a guard with the sword until Dareena could move in to steal his life energy. With any luck, nobody would notice his dangling sleeve.
Once Alistair finished with the guard, he shoved him beneath the covers, then ushered Dareena behind him as he opened the door. He looked both ways, listening for any approaching footsteps. Once he was satisfied the coast was clear, he took Dareena’s hand and crept down the hall.
“Squeeze once to go right and twice to go left,” he whispered as quietly as he could. Since Alistair had been confined to either the bedroom or the dungeon, he didn’t know the castle well enough. “We need to go out through a side entrance, preferably one used by servants.”
Dareena nodded. She had him take a right, then two lefts, sticking to the shadows and listening for any signs of someone approaching. They were just about to make another turn when Alistair caught the scent of blood.
Blast it! He immediately flattened himself against the wall, pulling Dareena with him. Sure enough, footsteps, so faint as to nearly be undetectable, approached. Who else would be sneaking around at night, and wounded, besides that? His nostrils flared as he sniffed deeper, and his eyes widened as he recognized the scents.
“Ryolas?” he hissed, poking his head around the wall. “Basilla?”
The siblings stopped in their tracks, eyes wide. “We were just about to come and find you!” Basilla said in a hushed voice. Eerily, she was dressed in a maid’s outfit, and Ryolas also wore a guard’s uniform. “Arolas sent one of the guards into Ryolas’s room, and he was nearly assassinated!”
“It’s a damn good thing I took your advice and had one of the dogs sleep with me,” Ryolas growled. “He would have slit my throat if the barking hadn’t woken me up. Bastard killed the dog before I could get to him.” He shook his head in disgust. “If Arolas can manipulate our guards and servants even from behind bars, I am not safe here, and neither are you. We must leave, tonight.”
“And you?” Alistair demanded of Basilla. “Are you really willing to leave your home and family?”
“Until I am certain Arolas is no longer a threat, yes,” Basilla said firmly. “Come quickly now—we cannot afford to loiter. There is a secret passage that was built so our family could escape if ever there was an invasion. If we get to it now, we can slip out before any alarm is sounded.”
29
Lucyan stared at the ceiling, wide awake as he listened to the tinkerer snore in the bed next to his. He would have given almost anything to have a room of his own, but unfortunately the inn was almost completely booked up—they’d only managed to get this room because of the tinkerer’s popularity.
Of course, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep even if he had quarters of his own. Lucyan had been plagued with anxiety since the moment he’d left Castle Whitestone. Alistair was doing much better now that he’d had time to heal, but how long until he succumbed to the anti-dragon spell again, even with Dareena by his side to draw strength from? If the two of them didn’t find a way out of the castle before Alistair fell ill again, Lucyan would have to resort to drastic measures that could very well get them all killed. Horrific scenarios played out in his mind of all the things that could go wrong, nearly driving him mad with fear.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, throwing off the covers. What was the point in lying abed if he couldn’t sleep? Careful not to wake the tinkerer—although how the man could hear anything above his own racket, Lucyan did not
know—Lucyan pulled on his clothes, then slipped downstairs to the pub. It was close to two in the morning, and there weren’t nearly as many people seated at the bar and tables as there had been when Lucyan had returned. He found a table easily enough, then signaled a waitress for a mug of ale and a plate of chicken.
As he started on his third ale, two royal guards strolled in, a pair of beautiful women on their arms. Lucyan nearly choked on his brew—the woman closest to him had her hair hidden under a cap, but he would recognize those emerald eyes anywhere. And the man whose arm she was on…
“Hello,” Alistair said, grinning at him from beneath his cap. He’d angled it carefully to shield his amber eyes. “Are you Ramsey, the tinkerer’s apprentice? We were told to seek you out if we wanted to have a good time in this town.”
“You dog!” Lucyan cried, jumping up from the table. He embraced Alistair as if he were a long-lost friend—and indeed, he was much more than that. He ached to hug Dareena as well, but that would have been wildly inappropriate, so he kept his hands to himself. “It’s been far too long. Come, have a drink, and introduce me to your friends!”
They did so, and the waitress brought more drinks for the rest of them. “How did you get out?” Lucyan whispered as the four of them leaned in close. “And what are you two doing here?” he demanded of Ryolas and Basilla.
“Helping you escape,” Basilla said coolly, “and coming along for the ride.”
Lucyan scowled. “Why would you want to come with us? Your place is at Castle Whitestone.”
“Please, Lucyan.” Dareena squeezed his hand beneath the table, sending a current of warmth up his arm. “Arolas tried to have Ryolas killed tonight. He and Basilla are not safe here. Didn’t you promise Tariana you would rescue him if you could?”
“I did,” Lucyan said grudgingly, eyeing the elven prince. There was no reason not to trust him, Lucyan decided. “But I did not bring enough horses for all of us.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem if you can shift,” Ryolas said. “We’ll double up on the horses for now, and once we’re out of sight, you can take dragon form and carry Dareena.”
“We don’t have much time to debate this,” Alistair reminded him. “Every hour I remain in these lands weakens me. And we only have until morning before the guards discover we’re missing.”
“You make a good point.” Lucyan drained his glass. “I’m going to leave a note with my traveling companion to tell him I’m taking off,” he said, standing up. “Meet me in the stables—I’ll be down in a jiff.”
Agreed, the four of them parted ways. Lucyan hurried up the stairs and packed his scant belongings, then left a note by the tinkerer’s bedside table informing him that he had “collected the package and was returning home.” Ambiguous enough that someone else would not suspect the truth without leaving any doubt in the tinkerer’s mind as to what he meant. For a moment, Lucyan felt a pang of regret that he could not say farewell face-to-face, but he shook it off; the tinkerer would come to Dragonfell in the near future, and Lucyan would be able to thank him then.
By the time he got to the stables, the horses Lucyan had purchased were saddled and ready to go. “It was easy enough to pick which ones were yours,” Alistair said while Lucyan fastened his bag to the saddle. “They all have your scent on them.”
Lucyan smirked. “What can I say? I’m a cuddler.” He ignored Alistair’s rolling eyes as he tossed a shirt at him, and another one at Ryolas. “Put these on,” he ordered. “The last thing we need is for the guards to think you two are deserters.”
The two men did as he said, hiding their uniform shirts beneath piles of hay. Ryolas helped his sister mount their horse while Lucyan assisted Alistair—he could tell that his brother wasn’t thrilled about his help from the way his jaw was clenched, but he was still getting used to maneuvering with only one hand.
With any luck, he wouldn’t have to get used to it for much longer.
“Would that I could cuddle with you,” Lucyan said, circling Dareena’s waist with his hands, “but I think you’d be better served helping my brother with the reins.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to cuddle once we’re out of danger,” Dareena said, leaning up to kiss him. Lucyan held her a little tighter as their lips met, and even though they’d slept together last night, it felt like an eon ago. Under different circumstances, he would be carrying her to the back of the stables for a roll in the hay, but…
“I’m not an invalid, you know,” Alistair grumbled, breaking the spell. “I can manage the reins with one hand.”
“No one is calling your masculinity into question,” Dareena said gently as Lucyan helped her up. She settled between Alistair’s legs and patted his thigh. “I’d simply feel better if I stayed close to you for now.”
Lucyan hid a smirk as he mounted his own horse—the annoyance had melted from Alistair’s features the moment Dareena had touched him. None of them could withstand her charms. “Are you ready?” he asked the elven siblings.
Ryolas nodded. “As ready as one can be when fleeing one’s ancestral home.”
Lucyan felt a pang of sympathy for the prince. Just a few weeks ago, he had been an esteemed general, heir to his father’s kingdom. Now, he was about to become a refugee. “You’ll be back here before you know it,” he said, spurring his horse into a trot.
The others followed him out of the stables, and together, they made their way to the southern gate. The sleepy guards waved them through with barely a glance—their job was to police those entering, not those trying to leave. The moment they cleared the gate, Lucyan was struck with the urge to whoop and cheer, but they were hardly out of the woods yet. Leaning into his horse, he urged the animal into a canter and headed for the hills.
“All right,” he said once they were a safe distance away. “Princess Basilla, you can take my horse. I’m going to shift now.”
“Are you sure?” Basilla asked. Her keen eyes scanned their surroundings, hunting for enemies though Lucyan had already checked for them. “You may want to conserve your strength.”
Lucyan shook his head as he dismounted. “It will be easier on the horses if we’re not doubled up, and I can spot any enemies headed our way from above.” He helped Basilla off Ryolas’s horse and onto his own. “You and Ryolas will be our eyes and ears on the ground. I will be our eyes in the sky.”
“And I will come with you,” Dareena said, taking his hand. Lucyan blinked—he hadn’t seen her dismount. “As you said,” she reminded him when he opened his mouth to protest, “it will be easier if we are not doubled up.”
Lucyan looked her up and down. “Are you sure you will be all right?” he asked. “It is colder in the sky.”
Dareena smiled. “You will keep me warm.”
Lucyan chuckled, then climbed one of the hills to put some distance between himself and the horses. Closing his eyes, he summoned the anger and protective urges that had helped him to change the first time, and let the emotions run wild through him. The same pain from before ripped through him as his body morphed, and he could smell the horse’s fear as it whinnied nervously, the scent ten times stronger thanks to his heightening senses. The primal urge to give chase gripped him, and Lucyan dug his claws into the dirt to keep himself from attacking the horses. He opened his eyes and focused on the one person he knew could center him.
Dareena.
“Oh, you are magnificent,” she breathed, her eyes shining with wonder. Slowly, she approached, her lips parted, her hand outstretched. Lucyan made a sound in his throat that was vaguely reminiscent of a purr as she stroked his snout, running her warm hand over his scales. Her touch soothed the bloodlust in him, and he closed his eyes to savor it. He imagined that if he let her pet him long enough, he might fall asleep.
“Excuse me,” Ryolas said, sounding both amused and annoyed. “I hate to interrupt what is obviously such a special moment, but we really must be going.”
Lucyan huffed. He lowered his belly to the ground, then unfurled
his wings so Dareena could climb onto his back. The sensation of her walking across his wings felt strange, almost ticklish, and Lucyan had to resist the urge to roll onto his back to alleviate the sensation. Thankfully, it dissipated, and Dareena settled onto his back.
Meeting Alistair’s wide eyes—which were filled with both pride and jealousy—Lucyan rustled his wings, the only signal he could give them. Flexing his back legs, he launched himself into the sky. His heart leapt into his throat as Dareena screamed, but when he twisted his neck around, she was safely nestled between the spikes on his spine, her eyes blazing with exhilaration. Shaking his head, Lucyan turned his gaze forward, then pumped his wings hard, driving them just far enough above the clouds that he could still see the others below while remaining out of sight. Not that it was likely anyone could spot him in the dark unless they were paying special attention, but still, it was best to be careful in enemy territory.
“This is wonderful!” Dareena cried. He turned his head to see her looking around, her eyes shining with delight. “I can still see the city from here,” she said, twisting in her seat to look back at Enethar. “It looks like a glittering jewel.”
Lucyan rumbled his agreement. He wished that he could speak with Dareena, but dragons did not have voices, not in the way humans did. Still, having her close eased the anxiety that had been gnawing at him, filling him with comfort and relief. The two of them enjoyed the flight in relative silence, broken only occasionally by Dareena exclaiming over some wonderful new sight. He understood her enthusiasm quite well—Lucyan himself had yet to get used to the incredible experience.
As they traveled, Lucyan continuously checked on Alistair and the elves to make sure they were fine. Even though they were flying slowly to keep pace with the elves, they were making good time; at this rate it would only take them another day or two to reach the border. Lucyan couldn’t wait until they crossed back into dragon territory and were finally free of the spell. Then Alistair could finally attempt to shift, and hopefully regrow that arm of his.
