Magic, New Mexico: Silver Bound (Kindle Worlds Novella)
Page 8
“Ahhh!” His eyes went silver and rolled back in his head, and he lurched off her, convulsing.
Worst. Aftercare. Ever.
“Barnabas, darling, it’s going to be all right.” He’d absorbed much more of her power this time. This would hurt him. She stroked his shoulders, his bare chest. “Breathe. Breathe. Think of what you want to know. Think of how it comes to pass. You can force it to show you a sequence.”
That was how silver wizards measured the schedule of their predictions, by compelling the magic to reveal more than one event.
After years of practice.
Barnabas had about one more minute. Had he been right that telling the sheriff would make a difference? Would their activities tonight—their new alliance—work in their favor?
When the magic finally drained out of him, he opened his eyes. He stared up at her, his expression full of pain. “Nothing has changed.”
She rolled off the bed. Away from Barnabas, who was bound to be feeling too weak to follow. He’d be wrung out from the amazing sex and the much less amazing vision. She’d had some miniscule hope, but now it was dashed.
“Should have gotten me pregnant. At least then Victoria would have had to wait ten months to take over more provinces in Tarakona.”
Chapter Eight
When Shula hadn’t attacked after three days, even Barnabas could admit to a degree of apprehension. They spent the sunlit hours practicing with Earth-style weapons called guns, probing the area covered by the town barrier, strategizing with Barnabas’s amulet collection, and testing the blood tracker. That particular amulet was highly unreliable when Barnabas was outside the barrier, so they’d agreed Nadia should remain inside it at all times.
And at nights, they made love. Once he taught her to avoid the power explosion, she displayed no reluctance to end that side of their relationship, and he quickly found he had some difficulty denying her. He did attempt to stand firm on her more foolhardy suggestions. No, they would not tie her to the railroad tracks and let her be sacrificed. No, he would not transport her to the desert island she’d mentioned and leave her there. No, sending her back through the portal with a suicide vest on her person was not an option.
She had said, their first time together, that she might love him. The very memory of it threatened to give him another cockstand and choke him with emotion at the same time. Yet in the daylight she avoided touching his skin, as if their nights weren’t happening. As if her earth hadn’t been shattered.
Perhaps it took more to shatter a dragon. He was merely a wizard, and he’d already had cracks in his heart from the moment he’d known about her existence.
Sundown on the third day after they’d fought Shula was nigh. According to the map Theo had obtained for them, they were close to the western edge of the barrier near a hilly area of yucca, creosote bushes, and mesquite. They had hired a cabbie for the day rather than use up the magic in the transportation amulet. The gnome drivers—it took several of them, sitting atop one another—remained in the vehicle playing some infernal game of dice while Barnabas and Nadia searched the arid desert for signs of Shula, Charmaine, and anyone from Tarakona who didn’t belong here.
They had discovered plenty of foot traffic near the portal to Tarakona, which was in an area that wouldn’t ordinarily have foot traffic. A few consultations with keen-nosed wolf shifters in town had confirmed but not located Tarakonan dragons besides Nadia. Apparently Tarakonan dragons smelled sweeter than other types.
A large outcropping of grey stone embedded in a steep incline provided some shade as they planned their next step. According to his calculations, the barrier was atop this hill in about one hundred paces. A cactus bloomed between two rocks with incongruously lovely red flowers that reminded Barnabas of—well, blood, really. Which was rather morbid.
Nadia dangled the silver locket that the iron wizard had used to create Barnabas’s tracker as if it would signal a direction to try next, like a water dousing charm. “It’s really not fair dragons can’t use their own magic.”
“We’re a trimorphic species. We’re intended to support one another beneficially.” What would she do with it, if she could? “But if there is something you wish to know about the future, I’m happy to try to—”
“No.” She held up a hand. “You don’t know how. And I don’t have time to teach you.”
With common dragons, the use of their magic could be taught by other wizards, but with the rare silver and crystal dragons, the dragons themselves had to be part of the instructional process. “I could check if the vision has changed.”
“Chances are you’ll wear yourself out, and me as well. And, moreover, it is logical that we would have used my magic to see the future and try to avoid it. Just as it is logical to assume the future you glimpsed was caused by fighting back. Because logically, that is what one does when threatened.”
He sensed there was more. “And?”
“I have been used in this fashion for twenty years, Barnabas. I have seen much. And there may be some rescue to be found in behaving in a completely illogical fashion.” She fisted the locket as if she could squeeze her own blood out of it and hide herself forever.
He almost told her that wasn’t logical, but in a sense, it was. He gave her a stiff bow. “You are the expert.”
She shaded her eyes and stared up at him. “What is the most illogical action we could take at this moment?”
“Ehm.” He was never irrational or undisciplined. His imagination did not stray into those areas. Nevertheless, since she had asked it of him, he made an attempt. “I suppose it wouldn’t be very logical to drop everything and go on holiday. We have yet to determine how and when Magic’s barriers will be breached or how to get hold of that other talisman.”
To keep Nadia safe, he had to destroy Shula’s blood tracker. That meant tangling with the wizard on his own, but he’d trained for this with the DLF. Nadia had never, ever trained for any kind of conflict. Yet here she stood. Resolute and tenacious. He had nothing but respect, and perhaps more, for her.
She sighed. “Then again, if we felt that we had nothing to lose, wouldn’t you spend your last days on holiday?”
“I don’t feel that way.” He had everything to lose, and she was standing right in front of him, sweating lightly, her white shirt tied at her waist, her hair floating around her head like a cloud, and her sensible boots covered with red dust.
“But if you did. What would you do?” She tossed him the amulet and took a drink of water from her canteen. They had relocated to her brother’s domicile to save money, gain privacy, and stock up on supplies. Apparently her brother was a bit of a hoarder, though Nadia said he called himself a prepper. “I thought I had a whole life of freedom ahead of me. I had such a to-do list. Now there’s no hope of checking most of it off.”
“What was on it?”
She reached out and traced a finger down his jaw. Due to the hectic nature of the past three days, he’d been unable to attend his toilette as usual. Her short fingernail rasped on his stubble. “Can you guess a few of the things, Barnabas?”
That was all it took. His ardor quickly outpaced his common sense. “There are, perhaps, a few new things on my list as well.”
She closed the distance between them until her body heat scorched him more than the sun. She caressed his throat as he swallowed, hard, and then flicked open the top button of his shirt. “Do they involve me?”
But his common sense wasn’t defeated yet. He caught her hand before she could free more than two buttons. “Do you mean to torment me or seduce me, my dear?”
“They’re both on my list,” she said. “A twofer.”
“We have not finished our survey of the barrier and—”
“Which makes this a very illogical choice of activity.” She pulled his face down to hers and practically growled. “I want to have sex outside the bedroom. I want to be with you, right here, right now.”
His body was willing. His brain was not. Well. His bra
in was waffling on the matter as Nadia’s soft belly pressed against his cock. “We have an audience.”
The vehicle operated by the gnomes was a sturdy one, but it was not currently visible. Their task today had included quite a bit of hiking. The barrier had not been placed in any special proximity to roads or human conveniences.
“Exhibitionism isn’t on my list,” she said, “but I’m not sure I care.” She unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, tugging it free of his trousers. Her hands skated across his chest.
“We’ll get sand in all our crevices.”
She cupped his cock. “We’ll take a bath later.”
“It will hurt your crevices more than mine,” he pointed out, but when she undid he belt, he was lost in her touch.
“Nadia,” he groaned and bent his head to her lips.
He could not resist this woman. Though it was dreadfully hot, he swooped her up and kissed her desperately, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Passion and sweat threatened to glue them permanently together or give them heatstroke.
She managed his zipper while kissing him, and his loose trousers dropped to his ankles. Her fingers on his cock were a miracle.
She was a miracle.
Though cocks were somewhat new to her, she pumped him firmly, coaxing him to greater heights and hardness. Kissing, sighing, whispering, he fumbled at her clothing as she worked him. His back hit a smooth boulder, and he twitched his exposed bum out of the way of the cactus. No reason to add real blood to the scenery.
“I want to taste you like you did me,” she said, sliding down his body. “I want you in my mouth.”
Her shirt open, her brassiere unclasped, her small, pale breasts rubbed his cock, and his pulse raced at the beautiful sight. She nestled her knees on his pants, trapping him. To his disappointment, her pale hair fell forward and concealed her face when her lowered her mouth to lick him.
Her tongue branded him as hers. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else, ever again.
“Salty,” she informed him. She drew him into her hot mouth, and his head smacked against the rock as he tried not to come in her face in an ungentlemanly fashion.
“Nadia.” All he could say was her name. She answered him with teeth and tongue, suction and wetness. She tried to swallow all of him down, so he placed his hands on her soft hair. Then he managed another word. “Stop.”
“It’s on my list,” she said, her breath on his wet cock. “You’ll just have to put up with it.”
Her teeth caught against the tip with delightful friction, and his hips involuntarily thrust toward her. He could feel himself swelling with eagerness. She moaned softly and slipped her mouth over him faster, faster…
A voice interrupted their lusty haze. A furious voice that echoed down into their small canyon. “I do not understand how she could have disappeared. The tracker found her three days ago, and then, blip, she’s gone. But if she’d died, we could still find the body.”
He froze. Nadia froze. His cock twitched and deflated.
That was Shula’s voice. She was very angry, and very, very close by.
“Where can she be, dammit? The silver is as good as done the minute I find her this time. Haughty little bitch.”
Their carnal timing their first night together had been less than wise. Their timing now was ridiculous. He glanced up but saw nothing. Quietly, quietly, Nadia stood, and they adjusted their clothing.
Shula wasn’t alone. Another voice answered, and it didn’t sound like the pitiful red dragon she’d ridden yesterday. “Victoria won’t be happy if you hurt her.”
“Victoria relies too much on the silver. She rules through sleight of hand and manipulation, based on these stupid prophecies, when she should be ruling through strength.”
“That’s a mighty red philosophy,” responded Shula’s female companion. “If her use of the silver is working to expand our holdings, why question it?”
“Commander Fliss,” Nadia mouthed. They clung to each other in the shade and protection of the boulder, but their passion had changed to wariness. “Iron wizard.”
Iron wizard specialized in iron dragons—smelting, metallurgy, blood magic. Blood magic in particular was difficult to master, unlike fire, ice, or simpler spells. Shula must be getting desperate to find them.
Confirming his assumption, Shula ordered the other wizard, “Try the tracking spell with the amulet again. Your stupid dragon can’t possibly be empty yet.”
“She’s young,” Fliss protested. “It will give her the ague if I keep going like this. We’ve been at it since you fetched me this morning.”
“Like I care.” Tiny pebbles ratcheted down the incline as if someone up above was pacing. Barnabas estimated that they were right on the other side of the barrier. The town’s magic seemingly would not let them enter. “Dragons were put on Tarakona for our use, not much different than horses or pigs. You drain one, you switch dragons.”
Fliss made an unidentifiable noise and said in a humorless tone, “They’re people.”
“You joining the Lizard Wizards, sister?” Shula asked sharply.
Fliss did not sound young, her voice aged and husky. But she wasn’t one of the DLF’s identified sympathizers—people who could be turned to the cause. If they were discovered, did Barnabas have proper armaments to defend against a red and an iron? “No, I’ve simply observed that if you treat dragons well, you get a lot more out of them.”
“Then you should get more out of this wimpy thing here.” A crack of flesh on flesh, and a young, girlish voice cried out.
More rocks and clattering. “If you strike my dragon again,” Fliss said, “I’m leaving. I know where the portal is now. I can come and go as I please. Not that I’d want to come back here.”
“This shanker of a talisman must be broken,” Shula cursed, followed by some squeals.
Nadia began to tremble in his arms, and Barnabas held her tighter. If they ran, they’d be spotted. If they made a noise, the dragons above would hear it and alert their wizards. If they transported away, they’d miss this dangerous opportunity to eavesdrop.
“It’s not broken. There’s magic I don’t understand in this area, and it’s interfering with the tracker,” Fliss explained. In addition to elderly, she sounded tired and put-upon. From his brief exposure to Shula, it was likely his impression was accurate. “I’m not a scholar. I don’t know about this dimension other than it’s hot as fire and the natives don’t treat women very well. I don’t know what’s so appealing about it.”
“I have flown every square meter of this entire area, and the tracker says nothing. It should pick the silver up anywhere on this planet and anywhere on Tarakona. Yet she’s gone. It’s useless, and we don’t have enough blood to make another.”
“One tracker,” Nadia mouthed, her eyebrows arched. Good information to have and worth the risk to obtain it. Unless they managed to make Nadia bleed again—and he’d kill them first—destroying a single tracker might be enough to keep her safe.
“You lost her because you don’t have enough familiarity with iron magic. Take it to Victoria. She’s not governor because she’s prettiest, you know. She has the most experience with the widest variety of magic. Tell her what happened, and she’ll handle it.”
“That’s what you’re for, Ironhair,” Shula said. “I want that dragon dead.”
Even from here, they could hear Fliss’s heavy sigh. “Dead? Sounds a mite treasonous.”
“I do what I must, for our province. For my sisters. It’s why we decided I would volunteered. Victoria won’t harm a hair on her idiot head.”
“If the dragon was able to escape, it’s not likely she’s an idiot,” Fliss said, again in that humorless voice. “Now that this is settled, I’m going home and having a cup of tea. I expect you to report to Victoria soon.”
“It’s not settled, and you are not my commanding officer,” Shula exclaimed. “Do you want me to tell Victoria what I know about your granddaughter?”
“You
do that, and my protection of you is gone,” Fliss responded. “As I am about to be.”
“You’re not going anywhere. The dragon is still alive, and if you won’t help me, I’ll—”
The crackle of rending earth turned whatever Shula intended to say into a shout of rage. It was followed by an explosive blast, the smell of smoke. The wizards were battling. A plume of fire arced out above Barnabas and Nadia’s heads.
One of the dragons screamed. Nadia hissed against his shoulder. “We need to get out of here.”
“Not yet,” Barnabas responded. If he could discover more divisions between Victoria’s wizards, they could prove useful for the DLF.
“Stand down, Red!” Fliss yelled angrily. “Don’t make me do this.” Iron wizards could pull on the forces of the earth, though not to the extent of stone wizards. But they could manipulate blood and metals in a way that made them fearsome in battle.
In response, Shula blasted fire again, catching a stand of creosote bushes aflame. Smoke billowed. Flames sheeted above them in a giant swath of terrifying heat. Their boulder would not shelter them from this. The disagreement was taking place far too close for comfort.
The earth rumbled dangerously. Fliss seemed to be taking a ground approach instead of detonating Shula’s blood. Rocks tumbled from above through the smoke, nearly bashing them in the head. The usefulness of the eavesdropping had just been overshadowed by the danger. They were going to have to…
In the distance, the gnomes’ vehicle began honking, as if startled by the minor earthquake. The engine coughed to life.
Nadia coughed, too, and clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified. He was going to have to do something about this wildfire and smoke.
“Hold your fire, you hothead. What is that noise?” Fliss said.
Oh, hell and damnation.
Luckily Fliss meant the car, not Nadia, and even luckier, Shula obeyed. “Dragon, transform and hunt it down, whatever she’s talking about.”
Nothing happened. The gnomes’ horn continued to honk. Barnabas feared the gnomes would come looking for them or, worse, be set upon by Shula. Very, very discreetly he grasped his water amulet and began dousing the creosote bushes before the conflagration reached them.