Cursed Ice

by Ann Gimpel

  She probably wouldn’t understand either metaphor, but my plate was too full to explain. I dithered about, first adding air then withdrawing it and adding water. The whole of magic—at least so far—appeared to be mental gymnastics and trial and error. Since I’m not actually trotting to the stream and pouring real water into my spell.

  With no notice or fanfare, the borderworld shattered around us. My grin broadened. Not an elegant transition, but not bad for a first try. We shot through blackness as if we’d been blasted from a cannon.

  I may have whooped, but this felt like a victory. I deserved to savor it.

  “Pay attention to our destination,” Katya reminded me.

  “Thanks. I have not forgotten. I visualized it before we left.”

  She nodded, more reserved than she’d been before. “It’s the hardest part of teleporting. You have to keep nudging the spell toward your end point.”

  “What happens if I slack off?”

  “What would you expect?” she countered.

  “We will end up somewhere else, but how far off could we be?”

  She chuckled. “You’d be surprised.”

  I’d learned the feel of her magic, and it flickered around me, joining my spell. I sensed her enter my magic smoothly. She felt right joined with me like that. I started to tell her but was suddenly shy. I hadn’t heard much from the green dragon lately, but I detected his presence.

  It seemed perverse, somehow, to say anything personal in front of an audience.

  It was eerie in a way. Like having opened myself to a permanent extra resident. One who would always be there with his own thoughts, ideas, and opinions. Except I wouldn’t be privy to them. This was a one-way street with the dragon knowing everything about me, and me knowing nothing about him. He’d been vocal enough so far, I didn’t doubt he’d be the first to chastise me if he felt I’d made a mistake.

  With reality laid out in those terms, I wasn’t at all sure I hadn’t made a mistake. I was warming to the magical part of things, but the price of having sold my soul to a dragon might prove higher than I was willing to pay.

  Deep within me, the dragon rolled restlessly. Fire heated my chest and found its way out through my mouth. I altered my thoughts until they mirrored the restless, pitching South Atlantic. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  “There.” Katya’s voice surprised me. “We’re back on track.”

  I remembered the teleport spell. I’d been focused on how I felt about being shackled at the hip to a dragon. “Sorry. I got distracted. It will not happen again.” Feeling through the bones of the casting, I located where she’d set markers.

  To avoid her asking why I’d been distracted, I posed a question of my own. “Why is there a breathable atmosphere here, but none between the liminal space and the borderworld?”

  “Teleport magic uses its own channels,” she replied. “When you were ejected from the space between worlds, it wasn’t a teleport spell but Y Ddraigh Goch’s will that propelled you.”

  “So if I’d teleported to the borderworld, I’d have been able to breathe?”

  She nodded. “Yes. If I’d had any inkling the dragon god would yank me away, I’d have warned you. As it was, I wasn’t certain we’d ever leave the liminal boundary.”

  “Information is disseminated on a need-to-know basis,” I murmured.

  “Sort of. Yes.” She hesitated. “Why were you pleased when I told you magic was specific to the wielder?”

  I kept part of my consciousness linked to the teleport spell, determined not to drop the ball again. “Because it meant I was free to find my own way.”

  “I still don’t quite understand.”

  “I have never been a good soldier. I prefer to figure things out myself, rather than being force-fed a set of rules.”

  She scrunched her eyes thoughtfully. “Your need for independence, it’s linked to the dragonfire from a little bit ago.”

  She hadn’t posed it as a question, so I didn’t treat it as one. If anyone understood about having a dragon as a permanent associate, she would. I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “My new bondmate knows all my thoughts and expressed displeasure at a few of them.”

  “It’s to be expected. You’re still getting to know one another.”

  I shook my head. “The dragon is getting to know me. Will I ever find out anything about him?”

  Katya looked away. “I don’t know. With our dragons, it’s more a matter of accepting them for what they are—and making double damn sure they don’t grab the point. It will happen, but your job is to haul them back by whatever means you have.”

  “What if I fail?”

  “The bond will become perverted. Sometimes they can be salvaged, but not often. Rogue shifters eventually end up before Y Ddraigh Goch, who severs the bond.”

  “Doesn’t sound too bad,” I ventured.

  “Don’t underestimate it. The dragon is forbidden from ever entering into another bond, but the human will long for its missing dragon forever. A forever that’s far shorter than it might have been since you lose your immortality.”

  I looked at my spell again. If I read the signs right, we were nearly back to Earth. Clearly, I’d made a commitment on the borderworld, one that would be permanent. I’d known as much up front, but knowing and being confronted with the reality were two different things.

  “You’re quiet,” Katya observed.

  “Just working through things,” I hedged. No reason to share my woes with her. She probably already saw me as weak and pathetic. Nothing like kneeling over a man’s busted up remains with him whining in pain to kill off any romantic inclinations.

  Still, having her as my teacher was better than not having her at all. If I was an apt pupil, maybe there’d be a chance of resurrecting the desire I’d sensed when we’d been near one another. I wanted her to see me as a man, not an object of pity.

  Waves of approval rolled through me.

  The dragon.

  I buried my thoughts and bit back a sharp retort that sat in the recesses of my throat. I’d been an adult for a long time. I did not require anyone’s endorsement for my choices.

  Katya’s magic slid in next to mine again. “Just checking,” she murmured, followed by, “We’re nearly there. Stand ready to cut the flow of power or we’ll bounce right past the beach.”

  The teleport spell was ticking down. If I listened hard, I could almost hear the beats of a metronome slowing. But when was the time to call it?

  “On my count of three,” Katya said. I was grateful for her help and embarrassed I needed it, but I fixed my entire concentration on the casting. It was beginning to unravel around the edges. The pulse of magic that it emitted had definitely changed in both pitch and cadence.

  When she got to three, I wrestled with the spell. It was like trying to turn rusty taps that wanted to remain open. For some reason, I hadn’t realized it would require magic to shut the spell down, just as power had been vital to kindle it.

  Her magic wove in with mine, fluid and graceful, just like her. Between the two of us, we passed a barrier, kind of like an airlock in a submarine, except this time it didn’t shred my clothing.

  Clothing. I’d be cold on that ice-shrouded beach, but we wouldn’t remain there long. We emerged a good ten feet in the air, but Katya did something and we floated gently down. Brine-filled air seared my lungs, cold and salty. Wiped out from the magic I’d commanded, I sat on the chilly sand.

  It was cold. Below freezing. The wind cut straight through my down garments. I wrapped my arms around my tented knees to protect my core.

  “Nice work.” Katya looked down at me. Still naked, she wasn’t even shivering.

  “Mmph. You did most of it there at the end. Can we go below?”

  “Yes. I wanted to take a look around. Kon and Erin have been here.” The corners of her mouth curved into a smile. “She found a dragon too. Kon must be thrilled.”

  “Are you? About me, I mean?” I winced and scramble
d to my feet. “Never mind. I should not have asked.”

  “Sister!” Konstantin’s deep voice nearly deafened me. Moments later, he and Erin bounded out of a rent in the air that sewed itself shut behind them.

  Katya threw herself into his arms and hugged him. They talked excitedly back and forth in their dragon tongue, except now I could understand them. Was that courtesy of my bondmate?

  “Who else?” The dragon’s question echoed through my skull.

  “Thank you.”

  My chest swelled from pressure just before smoke, ash, and a tongue of fire found their way out. Was the beast pleased? Or had I pissed it off again?

  I ran to Erin and extended a hand, intent on shaking hers. She swept me into an embrace. “Perfect timing! We’d just left to hunt you down, but the blood vectors turned a one-eighty as soon as Kon set his spell in place.”

  Before I could inquire just what a blood vector was, she pulled back out of my arms. “You’re bonded?”

  “Yes. I am.” As I looked at her, it sank in she was naked, just like Konstantin and Katya. Whatever the trick was to keeping warm, I’d have to prioritize learning it.

  “Congratulations!” Erin gushed. “Isn’t it just the most amazing thing. I adore my dragon. She’s a brilliant, beautiful red.”

  “Um, mine is green and quite special.” I couldn’t bring myself to say much beyond that, even though I was certain my beast was listening to every word and had noted my distinct lack of enthusiasm.

  Erin, however, hadn’t noticed a thing. “Tell me what you’ve used magic for so far.”

  “Most of the teleport spell back here. And shifting.” I wondered if it had damn near killed her too, but didn’t want to let on how bad it had been for me. We men have our pride. It might be stupid and misplaced, but it’s part of what makes us men.

  She rolled her blue eyes, except now they had broad golden rims around the irises. “Oh my fucking god, what a hideous experience that first shift was. I was certain I was dead.” She shook herself. “It’s the curse of being a doctor. You can name every single thing that’s broken or shattered or crushed.”

  A snort pushed between my lips. “I am far from medically trained, yet I had no doubt I hovered very near the veil.”

  “So, it was hard for you too?”

  “Hard would be an understatement.” I stopped there, not wanting to relive my agony.

  “It’s impressive you managed a teleport spell,” Erin went on. “I’m still letting Kon do all the tough things. After we first got back, I spent hours in that library of his, but there’s so much material, I could spend years and not delve much beyond the surface.”

  “Books? There are manuals here that will help us learn about magic?” Cold as I was, a delighted thrill ran through me. I was used to learning from printed materials. Most were electronic nowadays, but the concept was the same.

  “Yes. Scrolls, actually, but some very ancient books too. In a whole lot of languages.”

  “I am literate in many languages—” I began.

  She held up both hands. “I wasn’t, but it’s not a problem. Something about the bond gave me the ability to read and speak a whole bunch of arcane languages. Probably modern ones too, but I haven’t had time to test that theory. Maybe we could switch to Dutch?”

  “Of course, but not right now.”

  I glanced over at Konstantin and Katya. They still stood, heads together, chattering like a small flock of magpies. I trotted to where they stood, my boots slipping on the ice-coated rocks. “Can we go inside?”

  Konstantin clapped me on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of me. “Welcome to the fold,” he boomed. “Can’t wait to see you in your dragon form.”

  Steam puffed from my mouth. And from Konstantin’s. Apparently, our dragons were cooing to one another. I’d figured out steam was good, whereas the other elements, like fire, ash, and smoke, could cut either way.

  “We will shift. Now.” My dragon’s words weren’t a suggestion. More of a command.

  Konstantin trained his golden eyes on me but didn’t say a word. He was waiting to see what I’d do. Katya looked as if she wanted to offer advice, but her brother shook his head.

  “We shall shift,” I told my beast, not bothering with telepathy, “but not right now. A library lies within. I must educate myself about magic as quickly as I can before we leave for distant worlds seeking allies.”

  Fire roared from my mouth in plumes that rose half a dozen meters into the still air. The pressure in my chest transferred to the rest of my body, and I felt the stretching, tearing sensation I’d come to associate with shifting.

  Could the dragon force his way through?

  He was a hell of a lot stronger than me, but maybe I had an edge because we were in my form. I instinctively reached into the earth beneath my feet, letting its power strengthen me as I fought my dragon’s will. Because targeting the entire transformation felt beyond me, I focused on each part where the dragon tried to break through.

  Fire continued to pour from my mouth, along with streams of ash. I let them roll. They weren’t hurting anything, and they were keeping me warm.

  When a finger turned into a talon, I forced it back. When wings tried to poke through, I layered magic over them and instructed them firmly to retreat. I may not have gained ground, but neither was I losing any.

  Konstantin dropped his hands onto my shoulders and focused his whirling gaze right at me. His dragon’s eyes, yet he still wore his human body. “Enough!” The word made my ears ring and resonated through my head at the same time.

  “But you invited us to shift,” my dragon protested.

  “You misunderstood, and I withdraw the invitation,” Konstantin said in the same dual-toned communication that was both telepathy and spoken out loud at the same time.

  My dragon departed so abruptly, I almost fell over. When I looked within, I couldn’t find him. “Where did he go?”

  “He is furious because I pulled rank and censured him,” Konstantin replied. “Don’t worry. He will return.”

  “Why did your words make a difference?” I was blithering, but there was so much I didn’t understand.

  “My beast is one of the elders,” Konstantin told me. “The other dragons are not bound to listen to him, but they all recognize he’ll exact retribution if they do not.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to stand tall, but the wind kept me hunched over.

  “It was my fault. I should never have said what I did.”

  “You did really well,” Katya chimed in. “Exactly the right approach.”

  Her praise warmed me. “Should I apologize when my dragon returns?”

  “Oh hell, no,” she and Konstantin said almost in unison.

  Katya continued. “It made a bid for freedom, you said no, and it pushed for what it wanted despite your refusal. Such behavior must not be condoned.”

  “Or even acknowledged,” Kon added.

  Alrighty. I could pretend the last sequence of events had never happened. A well-known children’s movie series about training dragons popped into my head. I made short work of that memory. It was one thing to not mention our confrontation, quite another to rub salt into the dragon’s loss of face.

  Erin made her way to Konstantin’s side and threaded an arm around him. Surprise ran through me. So they were a couple now? I wanted to ask, but it would be rude. And it was none of my business.

  “May we go inside?” I asked. “I wish to explore the library Erin told me about.”

  Katya nodded. “We don’t have much time, but we need sustenance, and you can look through Kon’s books while you eat.”

  “I’m afraid I left the library in a horrible mess,” Erin said, “but there’s a method to my pile system.”

  “I am looking forward to digging in. You can tell me which pile is which.”

  “Happy to.”

  Konstantin’s magic, different from Katya’s, bubbled around us. The chill, windy shore gave way to the familiar great
room. I felt grateful for the warmth deep beneath Antarctica. My frozen fingers and toes began to thaw.

  “I’ll round us up some nourishment,” Konstantin offered.

  “Library is this way,” Katya said. She rattled off a string of words peppered with “illusion” and “begone.”

  The far wall of the great room peeled back, revealing another space beyond. Erin hustled forward. I followed her. Normally, I’d have wanted to dig through the library at my leisure. Even a cursory glance told me the books and scrolls were very old, and probably worth millions. Not that their monetary value mattered. The piquant scents of tanned leather and vellum pricked my nostrils.

  “Where should I begin?” I asked Erin. She’d spent hours in here. Presumably, she’d offer pointers so I could be as efficient as possible.

  Katya joined us, her gaze scanning the stacks of ancient lore books.

  “Perhaps you should advise him,” Erin said.

  Katya shook her head. “He’ll benefit from what you found more than my opinions.”

  “All right.” Erin started at the far end of the shelf-lined room. “This stack describes working with elements. This one delineates other varieties of magic wielders. The one over here is specific to dragon magic, its strengths and weaknesses…”

  Before she was done talking, I crouched next to the element pile and plucked the uppermost scroll from the stack. My eyes widened. It was penned in Linear A, an ancient Minoan runic script. Even more surprising, I could decipher it.

  Maybe my dragon was good for more than throwing tantrums. I grimaced, waiting for pushback, but it didn’t come. When I checked, my beast hadn’t yet returned. Good. I needed to either temper my mental chatter or find a way to shield my thoughts.

  “Before I retreat to where I left off educating myself,” Erin said, “you both need to know we were set upon by serpents.”

  “It appears you won,” Katya growled, sounding like the feral creature she shared her skin with.

  “We killed two. Kon forced them into their human bodies with magic, and then we burned them.”

  A long, whistling breath steamed through Katya’s clenched teeth. “Good. They’re not gaining strength as quickly as I feared they would.”