by Emma Hamm
Sighing, Abraxas slid into his dragon form and glided through the air. It took only a few heartbeats for him to land beside the box, and he could almost feel the sadness of the eggs inside.
As if they knew, somehow, that he would not let them hatch any time soon. Perhaps they did. Dragons were knowing creatures like that.
He opened his mouth and let out a fountain of fire that melted the remaining gold clinging to the box. And then they were alone. Again. Just him and the two babies who should have been born by now. Who should have been with him so he could talk with them, hear their opinions and weigh their choices against his own.
Abraxas set his head down beside the box, forlornly sighing as he tried to see straight through the wooden edges. “I’m sorry. I have always made choices with you in mind, but it’s not fair if I... If I abandon them all like this.”
His words fell on silence at first, but then he swore he could see their outline through the box. As though the eggs were glowing with the powers of the dragons inside them.
“The dragons were always protectors first. We always sought out the other magical creatures and did what we could to keep them alive. We were there for them in the old days. I don’t know when that stopped.” But the urge had never left. At least not for him.
Abraxas wanted to wrap himself around these suffering souls so no one could ever hurt them again. Sure, he’d ignored that desire for a long time. He’d thought it was a passing fancy every time he brought a creature to the dungeon and told himself he didn’t care.
Lore had changed all that.
She was the key that had unlocked his soul and suddenly, he remembered. He remembered the laughter of the dwarves telling their dirty jokes. He remembered smiling at the centaurs while they raced through the fields. He missed the age of magic and hated this new age of man.
“I will not stop trying to hatch you,” he murmured. “I swear on my life and all the power in my body that I will find a way for you to join me in the air. We will have our days in the sun, you and I. Soaring through the clouds and sharing memories of a time long past. Give me the time to solve this mystery, to right these wrongs.”
The eggs glowed even brighter. He knew deep down in his soul that these dragon children remembered their previous lives. They knew what he had to do, and they understood his choice, even if it meant they had to wait even longer.
He could only hope that was the truth. The journey he would need to take to find another warlock or magician would be long and arduous.
But perhaps if a young elf came with him, for her keen eyes, of course, then perhaps the journey wouldn’t be so bad.
Sighing, he nudged the box with his nose and endured the zing of magic that sliced across his snout. “I really am sorry though,” he whispered. “If I could have both of you right now, I would. But... This is the right thing to do.”
Still, he didn’t want to do it. A part of him hated that he was giving up on these innocent souls so easily. As though he hadn’t fought his entire life to keep them safe, to bring them back. Now that he’d seen so much of the other side, though, he understood why the other magical creatures had hated him.
He tapped the box one more time with his nose, the zing of pain reminding him that no matter the path he chose, it was always going to hurt. He’d never get out of this without it hurting, and that seared across his very soul.
Abraxas stretched his wings wide and let his neck reach up to the ceiling of the cave. The deep roar that erupted from his throat was chased by fire that rained down upon him and the box. The metal lock turned bright red with heat, but it never melted. Nothing could melt it.
The call was one of rage and ruin. He let all of his anger and sadness and hatred for this place and its people pour into the sound. Let the people gathered for the King’s announcement hear him. Let them tremble in fear as they realized the dragon was coming for them all.
The distraction the rebellion needed had to be one that no one could ignore. They wanted to see what a dragon could really do, and he was happy to provide them with that. After all, it had been a very long time since he’d let loose.
Abraxas beat his wings against the air and rose. The exit to the cave was large enough for him to fly through, and he sliced through the waterfall like a knife parting through a curtain. His wings felt stronger, somehow. Almost as though the idea of finally terrifying this mortal king had given his soul the power it needed to get through what would happen next.
Beauty’s last words rang in his ears, the ones she’d said when she waited for him in the hall.
“If she fails, you have to burn it all down. Kill the King and everyone there.”
He’d agreed, but only because there were no other words he could say to her. Of course, he agreed, knowing that he would never be able to kill the elf who had stolen his heart. He already felt the beating thrum of the mate bond in his chest. One he wouldn’t ignore.
He couldn’t kill Lore, no matter how much the rebellion wanted him to. If she was in the courtyard and failed, then he would do whatever it took to get her out of there alive. If that meant the King survived, then... he did.
Abraxas almost hoped that was how the plan went. The eggs would remain alive, Lore wouldn’t die, he would flee with her and they’d return stronger. Together.
If only he could change the plan to that. If only his own desired outcome would fall into place, and then the rebellion wouldn’t believe he’d betrayed them.
The wind rippled across his throat and around the still healing wounds on his back. The holes in his wings were barely closed, and he’d admit he was a little shaky as he flew. But he didn’t think the King would want to attack him first. Not yet, at least. There was a show to be had with a dragon who had stepped out of line. This would all become another display of power. Another point in Zander’s life when he could pretend that he was the good one after all.
He flew around the back of the castle and listened intently. Already the King was shouting at the audience, who listened to every single one of his words with rapt attention.
“In my attempts to find a bride, I found even more deceit! My friends. My family. There is an imposter among the brides who were sent to the castle and I will have you all know, an elf thought she could kill me!” Zander laughed and the sound was horribly cruel. “She thought she could sneak into my home, in secret, and slit my throat in my bed!”
The crowd gasped, as they should with a story like that.
“But we found her! I battled with her myself and I would have you know that the magical creatures are weak! They are nothing compared to our might. They will fall underneath my heel just as they did my father’s.”
Except they wouldn’t. His shadow fell over the crowd, long and wide. They all cheered when they recognized the dark shape, because the dragon had always worked with the King. They thought that the dragon would battle the magical creatures with them. Surely, he would destroy their opponents with ease.
And yet, when he landed in the back of the courtyard, he glared at the King. He didn’t settle next to their leader, nor did he seem to protect Zander at all. Instead, they stared at a dragon whose stomach was already bloated with fire and rage.
Zander stood on a podium with that nameless brunette who had already stepped back. She should fear the dragon more than most, he supposed. After all, she was the reason Lore was in that cell.
They’d decorated the podium with white arches overhead and wisteria falling down in purple coils around their heads. It was beautiful, a setting that would have made any woman fall over in happiness. A wedding.
The crowd of people in front of the King were dressed in their best clothing. The sun beat down on their heads, however, and drops of sweat already slid down a few temples. They would soon know what heat really felt like.
His plan was to startle everyone here. He wanted them to cry out for mercy, and not just because he stood near them. No one but the King had ever heard him speak. Abraxas knew revealing that would m
ake Zander angry, but there was more to this than the King would anticipate.
“Mortal king,” he rumbled, his words echoing across the courtyard and silencing all the humans who had cheered for him. “You will not lay a finger on that elf’s head.”
The silence that came after his words was deafening. Wide eyes stared first at him, then back to their king, who had placed his hand on his sword. As though that would save him. Protect him. Give him any shield or safety from the rage of a dragon.
Zander was no fool. He knew this moment would define him for the rest of his legacy, whether he lived or died. He needed the people to see him as strong and capable. As the King who faced down a dragon without fear.
But Abraxas smelled the stench of his fear.
“That’s right,” Abraxas grumbled, the fire burning ever hotter in his chest. “Fear me, Zander. You know why I’m here.”
“I do.” The King didn’t disappoint. His voice raised as he called out to the crowd of people who watched them. “The greatest betrayal is one that I never saw coming. You were supposed to protect me, dragon. You were supposed to be the only person I could trust and then you fell to the whims of pleasure and the call of a pretty woman.”
He was going to use this moment to condemn Lore even further. The King would make her out to be some harlot that had seduced a dragon.
Abraxas wouldn’t stand for that. “She didn’t seduce me, as you wish everyone to believe. You want to spread your lies and hatred so you can justify killing an innocent girl.”
“Innocent? She wanted to kill me!”
“She wanted to free her people from your clutches. She wanted to set the magical creatures in this kingdom free so they weren’t hunted down and thrown into a dungeon to rot.” Abraxas roared the last words. “You used me as a weapon for too long, mortal king. I will not stand by any longer and watch my people die.”
Zander’s eyes narrowed and Abraxas knew he’d said too much. He’d given the King something that he could use, and that was...
No.
Damn it, he should have kept his mouth shut.
“Your people?” Zander repeated, cocking his head to the side as though the very words confused him. “Your people are dead, dragon. They died a long time ago, falling to the blade and the sword and magic that knocked them from the sky. Other than the two dragon eggs I have in my possession, or have you forgotten that? I’ll allow you to speak your mind. I’m not so cruel that I wouldn’t allow you to say your peace. But... Abraxas. If you continue like this, you already know what will happen.”
A flash of a dying dragon played in front of his vision. He remembered that horrible scream and the cry of a tiny beast who had never gotten a chance to spread its wings and fly.
He would not falter. He couldn’t.
Lore needed him to keep the King distracted and if Zander wanted to play all his cards like that, then he would. It would take a while for the King to summon those eggs. They had to travel a long way before the box would reach his hands.
Now, he prayed that Lore was fast. Because Zander had already lifted his hands and made the twisting motion that summoned the magician’s box.
Abraxas reared back and spread his wings wide. They wanted a scene, the rebellion said. They wanted people to run screaming from the beast.
He was happy to oblige.
Opening his mouth wide, he roared into the fire that spread from his jaws. People screamed. He knew they would as soon as they saw the power that he contained. But the King didn’t move. He remained right on that podium, hand still on his sword.
Did the boy really think he could battle a dragon?
When Abraxas finished, he remained reared up with his wings spread out wide around himself. He knew what picture he painted. Leathery wings and fangs that dripped with drool. Every wet slap against the ground sizzled and boiled with the heat from his chest.
Zander glared at him with so much hatred, Abraxas wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. Such a potent emotion wasn’t from the small amount of rebellion Abraxas had shown thus far. No. That hatred had grown for ages, and the dragon had ignored that it brewed in the chest of this child.
“You’re going to battle me over a woman?” Zander snarled.
“You always wanted me to find one,” he replied. “Wasn’t that what you said? Come join you. Linger in the bedroom with yet another soft body. You never stopped talking about them, Zander.”
“I wanted you to find someone for yourself. For a passing dalliance so you wouldn’t be such a fucking prick all the time.” Zander lifted his hand from his blade and pointed to the nearest Umbral Knight. “Kill him,” he snarled. “I want that dragon’s head on the ground in front of me. I can make another.”
He couldn’t, but Abraxas would not tell him that. Instead, he braced himself for the arrows and the magical weapons that the Umbral Knights would use against him.
Hurry Lore, he thought. I have little time left.
Chapter 34
Lore
The moonlight had filled her with more magic than she’d ever gathered. Lore didn’t know if the maiden in the sky knew she needed all the help she could get, or if there was someone in the dungeon helping her. Either way, she felt almost bloated with power.
Abraxas had advised her to leave the cell closed. At least then she wouldn’t let the Umbral Knights know too early that she’d escaped. So she waited until the sun just peeked out over the horizon before she climbed into the hole he’d dug.
How had a dragon done something like this? She couldn’t imagine it had been easy without hands. But he’d somehow tunneled deep into the earth, enough so that the moonlight could fill her cell with welcome beams.
The hole was steep. She sank her hands into the wet earth and grasped onto the roots of plants to pull herself up and out of the strange hole in the ground. Mud clung to her skin, dotted her hair and face with debris, but it didn’t matter.
Good looks weren’t required for murder, after all.
Her hands crested the top of the hole and that was when she felt the knife. It pulsed against her spine where she’d tucked it into the back of her torn dress. The power nearly caused her to lose her grip and fall back into the damn dungeon. The blade sensed that death was near, and it wanted her to know how excited it was to sink into another person’s flesh. To devour yet another soul that would feed it for centuries.
She shivered. Goosebumps popped out down her arms and legs even as she looked around to make sure no one saw her exit the dragon’s massive tunnel. No one stood around the castle, but she’d expected that. After all, they were preparing for a feast and a royal wedding. There was much to be done.
Those poor maids were probably running about like chickens with their heads cut off. Agatha would run them ragged, that’s for sure. And, of course, the Umbral Knights would cluster around their king. Preparing in the best way they could to ensure that no one got close enough for an assassination attempt.
Although, she’d already seen them fail to prevent an arrow from striking their king.
Frowning, Lore rolled to the castle wall and pressed her back against the stone. Was that assassination attempt all for show? Beauty would have known if there was someone attacking, if she worked for the rebellion. And Beauty had stepped in front of that arrow.
It made little sense. None of this worked into a path that made her mind think all this was the rebellion. Some of it was just dumb luck.
She glanced up at the ramparts and saw a few of the Umbral Knights had already stationed themselves at the top. She’d have to take those Knights out first, and then she could get a better vantage point on the wedding.
Ugh, even the word made her stomach roll. Wedding. He was going to marry that bitch of a brunette, and then he would summon the Knights as if killing a woman on your wedding day was honorable. As if that was a good show for people to see while blessing a holy union.
She hated the man. She hated him with every fiber of her soul, and that hatred flowed in
to the damned blade at her back. The grimdag soaked in her emotions and grew in power. It wanted to feel blood on its blade so badly, she almost could hear its voice in her head.
“Take what you want,” it whispered in her mind with a voice like a crackling fire. “Take the pain and the anger and turn them upon someone else. They will fall under our blade and they will taste your pain as they fall. Let me do this for you.”
She knew why the clan of elves had died making these weapons. The magic they imbued into what they made was evil. This magic had come out of so many years of pain and heartbreak. They had made this knowing that the elves were going to die.
That fear had turned their powers into something lethal, but that would turn against them at every chance it could. The grimdag didn’t care who it killed or who stood in its way.
She couldn’t listen to that nightmarish weapon. If she did, then perhaps she would kill more than just the King. She’d walk through the crowd of people at his wedding, the ones who would have watched her die without a single shred of pity, and she would slice their throats. Like some kind of avenging being who wanted them to see what it felt like to really hurt.
“Yes,” the grimdag whispered in her mind. “Feed your hatred, girl. Let it flow through you until you see the reality of our world is bitter and cruel.”
It wasn’t, though. Not all of it. She remembered Goliath with his radiant smile and how he always bought tankards of ale for any mortals that saw him. Not a single one of them had reported him to the Umbral Knights. They’d always grinned, then pressed a finger to their mouth. His secret was safe. He was safe because the light of his soul spread out through the inn and they knew they could trust him.
She’d believed her entire life that the mortals were capable of being more than just life ruiners. That they had a purpose here, just like she did. That’s why she’d never joined up with the rebellion.
