Wyvern's Lair (Desert Cursed Series Book 5)

by Shannon Mayer

  “He needs to die, that is all there is to him. There is power in him, as there is in many alphas, and if he figures out how to use that power, you will have a fight you will not be ready for on your hands. If Ishtar realizes what she could actually use him for, then there will be no saving you or your pride.”

  I frowned. “You think me weak, too, then?”

  “In some ways, yes. Your size is against you. More than that, I think he will wait until you are beyond broken, then he will attack you.”

  I snorted again. “That is not news to me. He’s a coward. He’s waited for me to be injured before.”

  “Then be wary of him.” Maggi opened her eyes, just a slit so the blue glowed in the darkness. “You and I should have had tea together long ago.”

  “Except you would have tried to kill me,” I pointed out, a smile of my own catching me off guard. Smiling at her while discussing killing one another. What a strange night. My body protested that I was still standing and not resting at camp, but I stilled the tremors in my muscles with effort.

  “Perhaps. But you must embrace death, Zam, if you want to be successful in your journey, if you want to survive.” Her eyes were thoughtful. “Promise me you will . . . embrace . . . death. Hold him tightly when he comes for you. Promise me.”

  I shrugged. I’d never cared for word games and that’s what this felt like. “Let me guess that you can’t flat out tell me what I need to do any more than Merlin or Flora?”

  She bobbed her head once. “It is the price of knowing some, but not all, of what can be in the future. Sometimes I do not even know why I say what I say, and see the truth of it only in hindsight.”

  Great, just bloody awesome. “I will do what I can to embrace death,” I said, and even I could hear the fatigue in my voice. Bone tired wasn’t a saying for nothing.

  “The Oracle said to embrace death, did she not?” she said. “And I am saying the same thing. You must do it.”

  I threw both hands up. “Fine. Fine. I’ll embrace death. At this point, I could use the fucking sleep. And how the hell do you know what the Oracle said to me?”

  A sigh slid out of her. “I know much. It is the price I pay for seeing the threads of lives around me.”

  My turn to roll my eyes. “Great, but I still don’t think you should come with me. We are going to be moving fast, and we don’t have enough horses for all of us.”

  Maggi blinked rapidly, her eyes moving left and right. “Yes, yes, I can see that will be a problem.”

  Was she reading the threads around us like she’d said she could? I shook my head. I didn’t really care. All that mattered was that she realized she didn’t need to come with me.

  “Well, this has been lovely, but I want to go back to camp and get something to eat.” A grumble rolled through my belly as if to accentuate my point.

  With a twitch of her hand, she spun her skirt out around behind her, the gauzy material floating on the icy air of the still slightly frozen oasis. “Excellent idea. I am rather peckish myself.”

  My feet stumbled to a stop between one step and the next. “Pardon, what?”

  “I think a meal would do you good. That you are still standing is truly a miracle as far as I can see. And I could use a meal myself.”

  “Yeah, but you said that you could—”

  The former Ice Witch twitched an eyebrow upward. “I can see that you mistook my consideration of a problem for not wanting to come with you. I am coming with you, Zamira. That is final.”

  The step of talons on the sand behind me turned me around. The White Raven stared down at us both, but those eyes locked on Maggi. “You swore you would release me when this was done.”

  Maggi linked her hands together. “I am not dead yet, but yes, I will still release you, demanding creature. As soon as you perform a final task. We need you to take us to Zamira’s camp, and then you will be free.”

  My first thought was that this was not happening. There was no way Maggi was joining me, Lila, and Ford as we hunted for the Wyvern’s Lair and a way to bring my brother back from the dead. The exhaustion that had been dogging my footsteps came back in a flood and the world spun a little. I braced my legs wide and breathed through the vertigo that hit me seemingly out of nowhere.

  The White Raven clacked her beak and bobbed her head, feathers luminescent in the moonlight. “I can do that. Seeing as you will be dead soon and then I will be truly free of your machinations.”

  I spluttered and Maggi snorted. “I’m not dead yet; do not count your eggs before they hatch, bird.”

  The Raven spread her wings wide. “The magic you pushed into those items would have kept you alive for years yet. But you are too fascinated by this one and her path, and so for that curiosity, you gamble your life. All to give our world a chance, according to you. So, you will die, and soon. That is enough for me.”

  Once more my jaw dropped, and I gaped at the two of them quarreling like an old married couple, as though I were a fish yanked out of water. “Wait, what?”

  “Stunning. You chose this pithy one to save the world?” the Raven drawled. “She’s not even—”

  “Hush.” Maggi snapped her fingers and the Raven’s beak clacked shut as though wrapped with a rope. The anger in those midnight-dark eyes was not lost on me. Perhaps there was a little magic left in Maggi after all.

  The air around us thickened, and there was a distinct crackle on the ice behind us that covered the meager water source.

  “You are not the power you once were,” the Raven said.

  “No, but I do believe that Zamira would defend me should you decide to attack me, seeing as I am defenseless at the moment.” Maggi didn’t look at me or even include me in the weird-ass conversation between them.

  “Damn shit fuck.” I hunched my shoulders. She was not wrong, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I reached up and touched the handle of my flail, the wood warming under the tips of my fingers, eager to be used for killing and mayhem.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Maggi smile. “You see? Do not push us. I doubt you would survive this time.”

  The White Raven fluffed up her feathers. “I will be glad to be rid of you. Both of you.”

  “You and me both, birdbrain.” I let go of the flail, though it tried to stick to me.

  “You shouldn’t speak like that to your ride.” The Raven’s wicked sharp beak clacked and she jabbed it in my direction. A thin layer of cold sweat broke out along my spine. Sure, we could fight, we’d probably both be wounded badly, and that was just stupid, especially here in the desert. You didn’t fight unless you had no choice. Because wounded, the desert would finish you off in no time.

  “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” I rubbed at the spot above my eyes that throbbed with an ache that wouldn’t give me even a measure of peace.

  The Raven crouched and tipped her back for us to mount, far better than riding in her talons. “Thanks.”

  She fluffed her feathers again. “You are not well. There is sickness on you, desert cat.”

  I noted that she ignored Maggi. So be it. I could pretend the sister of Ishtar wasn’t with me too. At least until her hands settled on my shoulders, tightening, digging in.

  “I’m just tired,” I said. And heartsick. And anticipating what was to come with Ford when I told him I couldn’t lead him on and that I was putting him firmly in the friend zone no matter what he said. “Let’s go.”

  The White Raven launched straight up as if we weighed nothing, her wings coming down with a swoop that sent the last of Maggi’s snow fluttering into the air before the flakes touched on the sand, melting away. Pretty and nauseating at the same time as my stomach dropped, rolling hard with the change in G-force.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” I whispered as we shot through the sky, the Raven’s wings taking us quickly back the way I’d come.

  “Lean to the side.” Maggi scooped up my long hair and held my head as the Raven tipped her wings and I hurled what little food and liquid that ha
d been in my stomach. Maybe Maggi wasn’t all manipulative. “Thanks,” I managed as we straightened out and I forced myself to sit upright.

  All I wanted was to get to camp, curl up, and sleep for a week. But I couldn’t do that.

  We had to move; we had to get to the crossroads and break a spell, find the Wyvern’s Lair where, apparently, he would tell us how to bring my brother Bryce back from the dead, and stop the Emperor. Yeah, no problem.

  I must have dozed off because the Raven woke me with a sharp caw, startling me almost right off her back if not for Maggi’s hands on my shoulders.

  “Zam, there is an issue.”

  I blinked rapidly, looking around the bare sky, the twinkling stars and moon lighting up the desert below us. “What is it?”

  The White Raven pointed with the tip of her beak. “There is something coming up fast behind us.”

  I twisted where I sat on her back. Thank the goddess for the night vision of a cat, or I would have missed the figure winging toward us—moving quickly as if it were trying to catch us. I squinted, noting the shape of the wings and body, recalling it easily. “That’s one of those falcons. From the Oracle’s Haunt.”

  “I will not fight for you, Zam.” The Raven’s words did not surprise me. “And certainly not for her any longer.”

  “Turncoat,” Maggi said. “I have no power, Zam. I cannot help either. You must face whatever this is on your own.”

  Of course I would.

  “Then land, and I will do just that,” I said.

  The White Raven banked her wings and we coasted toward the sand. This was just freaking awesome.

  Just how I wanted to end my night, fighting with an oversized desert turkey.

  4

  While I knew it wasn’t fair for me to be pissed that the White Raven left me to face the desert falcon winging our way with nothing more than Maggi at my side, who apparently was no good to me either, I was pissed, nonetheless. Maggi and I were dropped to the sand, and the Raven never even touched down. She just swept upward again with a hard beat of her wings.

  “Be brave, Zamira,” she cawed, her wings cutting through the air, the downdraft swirling sand and bits of brush into my face. I covered my eyes with my hands.

  “Don’t get caught by another wicked witch, how about that, birdbrain?” I yelled back. Her wings stuttered in mid-flight and she shot me a sharp glance with those midnight-dark eyes.

  Me and my big fat mouth. I grinned and waved as if it were a joke. Shit, at this rate, I was going to have to deal with the desert falcon and the White Raven at the same time. I was an idiot.

  “You do have a knack for diplomacy, don’t you? And even with that, people still like you.” Maggi fluttered her skirts to knock the sand off.

  “Life is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing,” I muttered to myself, feeling like an idiot and wishing Lila were there to point out that it was yet another Macbeth quote instead of Maggi who just raised an eyebrow at me as if she agreed that I was the idiot in question.

  I sighed and turned to face the desert falcon still coming upon us fast. I had my flail, and I reluctantly pulled it out. Reluctant in most part because I was so damn tired. I could lie down right there and sleep if not for the incoming winged issue and the likelihood that it wanted to peck my eyes out. At least it was just a falcon. It could be worse.

  The bird shot straight for me, flying hard and fast, something clutched in one talon. I squinted my eyes, the darkness hiding the thing the bird carried until it was much closer, and I could see the blond hair and limp body.

  “Oh no.” I clutched my flail harder, the handle warming, sticking to the palm of my hand, my heart simultaneously dropping and picking up speed as if it didn’t know what to do any more than I did.

  “What is it?” Maggi asked, and her tone said it all. “Someone you know?”

  “Did you know Marsum was coming this way?” I yelled the question, not caring who heard. I mean, hell, she obviously knew he was headed this way. Fuckity damn it all right up a camel’s ass, I was not in the best shape to deal with him.

  Marsum, who held Maks’s body in thrall. Marsum, who’d been the bane of my family’s existence. Who’d wiped out the lion shifters of the desert. Who’d killed my father. Marsum who’d taken Maks from me.

  He was loose-limbed in the falcon’s clutch. I watched in fascinated horror as the bird touched down, flipped the Jinn out of its hold and promptly fell over to the side. The desert falcon shuddered a few times, its wings spreading wide and chest heaving once, twice, before it collapsed completely, going still. Dying on the spot.

  I stood staring at the still-limp form of Marsum, unsure of just what to do. Marsum lay on his belly, unmoving but breathing steady as if he were asleep. Could that be right?

  “Perhaps you should check on him?” Maggi suggested, and I whipped around—wobbling a little—to stare at her.

  “How about we run for the damn hills?”

  “You can’t run.” Maggi shrugged. “There is no running from him this time.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you are up to something?” I glared at her, but the effect was ruined by the way I struggled to stand upright.

  I looked around as if there would be some other clue, some other tip as to just what I was supposed to do with this new turn of events. Where was Shem when I needed him? Or Lila? Or even Merlin? I’d take that idiot mage in that moment to give me an idea of what the next step was.

  I couldn’t kill Marsum, but I couldn’t leave him here either. And Maggi was not to be trusted no matter how much she tried to help me—I wasn’t that big of a fool. I took a few steps back and then forward. Once more, the indecision I’d lived with for so many years cut into me and I grimaced. I was not that person anymore. I put my flail into its holder across my back and let the handle go.

  “Maybe he’s dying,” I whispered to myself as I crept forward for a closer look. I couldn’t let him die. He had Maks’s body. Though how I would save him if that was the case, I had no idea.

  “Perhaps you’d better check,” Maggi said again, and motioned for me to move forward.

  Damn it all to the desert fires and back. I swallowed hard and made myself cover the distance between him and me before I could change my mind again. His face was turned to the side and his body gave a quick twitch as he snorted . . . in his sleep. Yup, definitely sleeping.

  I frowned.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I spoke loud enough that a normal person would wake up.

  Marsum didn’t move. Not an inch.

  I bit my lower lip, worrying at it.

  “I do believe he’s been spelled to stay asleep until a trigger of some sort awakens him,” Maggi said. “At least, that is what the spell on him looks like to me. The spell will have a time limit, I’m sure. Whatever you wish to do to him, now is your chance.” I turned to look at her, and she shrugged her thin shoulders as if it mattered not, but she would not meet my eyes. Yeah, something was up with her. Back to him, I looked.

  He’d been spelled to sleep? All well and good, but leaving him here was dangerous because who knew what trigger would wake him, and then I’d have no idea where he was. Dangerous, wasn’t it? That question and its potential answer were snatched from me.

  A wave of vertigo hit me, and I swayed where I stood, groaning. I sidestepped, tried to catch my balance, but the dizziness was too much coupled with my current state of fatigue and I crumpled to the ground, landing on my knees. The world swayed even there on my hands and knees, and my body swayed with it, rocking like I was on a bucking colt until I couldn’t hold it off any longer. I fell to the side, hit the ground next to Marsum, and squeezed my eyes shut as the ground seemed to roll beneath me in waves.

  “What the hell is going on?” I’d never been sick like this before, not even at my lowest points. I had to have contracted something, maybe in the witch’s swamp—that water was damn filthy and no doubt riddled with disease. Another wave below me that w
as not real—I knew it was all in my head—and I rolled with it.

  “You are very sick,” Maggi said, “and this is the only thing that will save you. I thought to use them myself, but it is not to be. This will work.”

  What the hell was she talking about? Was I supposed to hear her?

  My hand brushed against Maks’s forearm, along the muscles I wanted so badly to touch and to hold me. I couldn’t help it, being near him was like a reflex. I grabbed him tightly and clung to his arm like a life raft in rough, dark waters that wanted to suck me under the waves. His arm trembled, flexed, and I forced my eyes open. Even lying on my side, the world heaved and swayed, and my stomach rolled with nausea, bucking at what was left in my belly. I dry heaved a few times but that was all I had left.

  He groaned, his body flexing as he shifted to push to his hands and knees.

  I was flat out, barely able to open my eyes, and Marsum was waking.

  “Oh, dear,” Maggi said. “This is too fast.”

  “That all you got? It’s a fucking shit show,” I groaned.

  “I don’t plan on engaging in the sailor talk your generation enjoys.” She sniffed.

  Another grumbled moan from Marsum, but he hadn’t looked my way yet. I didn’t dare let my hold on him go, because it would change the pressure on his skin and that would be as noticeable as if I hadn’t been holding him and suddenly grabbed him. Filthy damn luck that I had, I didn’t see a way out of this.

  He would fight me. Or he would take me with him if I didn’t do something, and that something had to be fast.

  Kiss him. That was always a good distraction. And Marsum wanted me. Well, he could have puke-mouth me, then.

  I forced myself to my knees as he turned his head to me, his eyes clogged with sleep as though he was still half out of it. That made two of us. I launched myself at him—and by launched, I mean I fumbled over to him and pushed him to the ground with zero finesse.

  There was a moment of surprise, or maybe confusion in his blue eyes, and then he was flat on his back, and I was lying on his chest, my head on his shoulder, unable to do more than that.