Nothing was obviously available for her to use to cover the noise of the door she was going to open.
She waited for a few moments, listening to his mutterings and the scrape of chalk.
She concentrated on the subtle sound the chalk made as he drew.
That noise would have to make do. She would muffle his sense of hearing to everything else but the chalk’s scrape.
She put her hands over Pan’s hands and pushed. The door was even heavier than she had thought, but the hinges well greased.
She pushed her lightning so hard at Raphael to illusion away the sound that at first, he grabbed his temple and winced at the sudden headache.
Pulling back and huffing for control, she and Pan slipped into the room, holding hands.
It was easier to manipulate Raphael’s mind when she could see the room and his surroundings with her own eyes.
Pan went to shut the door behind them, but Elizabeth shook her head. It would be better to maintain the visual illusion than to try the audible one again, so soon.
They creeped up on him, their sweaty palms clasped and their hearts thumping as one.
He looked behind him, to check the door was locked.
They froze.
Had it been a compulsion born of her earlier inserted thought into his subconsciousness to check the door—or perhaps, he suspected something was wrong?
The dragons had defeated her illusions before with their fire.
Had Raphael learned a weakness?
Did Geer find one with all of his spying and then told his prince?
It was too late to turn around. Her magic might not last another trip through the dragon-filled caves.
Just a few more feet.
Raphael looked back down at his circle.
Pan and Elizabeth started forward again, too afraid to even breathe a sigh of relief.
Elizabeth had gone over this part of the plan very carefully with Pan while they’d flown here, knowing it was the time of their greatest risk.
To shock Raphael unconscious with her lightning, she would have to drop her illusions and release Pan’s hand.
Cutting herself off physically and telepathically before she released that much power wasn’t something Elizabeth would compromise on for her family, nor would she for her new friend.
They were so close that she could feel the heat radiating from Raphael’s body despite their icy surroundings.
She released her illusions first, and gave Pan the mental command to drop her hand, leaning forward, so she could slap her lightning ready hands on Raphael’s hard body.
Lightning sparked as they connected, eager to ground itself through his body as soon as she let it go.
Just one more moment.
She levitated off the ground.
“Dragonling?” Raphael asked, his astonishment evident as he laid eyes on Pan beside him.
He turned and grabbed Pan.
Elizabeth didn’t know if he had just been checking the door compulsively again or if dropping the illusions had finally given their presence away, but it didn’t matter.
Pan was caught, regardless.
Elizabeth couldn’t follow through and shock Raphael with Pan in his hands.
“Witch,” Raphael said with less enthusiasm to her as he looked at her hands on his shoulder, still sparking with power.
“I’m not a dragonling!” Pan said with a hiss, giving Raphael a kick to his side.
He didn’t even grunt, staring down at her tiny foot.
“Are you hurt, little dragoness?” he asked, all kindness and soft tones.
“Why don’t you stop using children to shield? I’ll have a try at denting your hide,” Elizabeth offered, hoping male pride might achieve what surprise had failed.
She only needed an unguarded moment.
“Shock him,” Pan demanded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Do not hurt the dragonling, witch!”
Didn’t he know that Pan had been sneaking up on him to cause him harm with Elizabeth?
Perhaps she had a greater weapon than her lightning. Raphael seemed to be protective of Pan. She’d have to play this carefully.
“Sir!” came a loud voice from outside, quickly approaching.
He would be through the door that they had left ajar in moments.
She knew that voice.
“Geer,” Raphael answered, never taking his eyes off of Elizabeth as she silently cursed her bad luck. “Send the others to sweep the caves and boundaries. We may have more unannounced guests. Enter my room and close the door when you are done giving orders.”
Elizabeth ignored Raphael and Pan.
Her whole being was focused on her mind, waiting for Geer to pounce on her thoughts.
Couldn’t he feel her?
Why couldn’t she feel him?
“Shock Raphael now! I’ll keep the door shut against the others,” Pan whispered, to keep her plan from Geer and whatever dragons were with him.
Elizabeth didn’t get a chance to ask Pan how she planned to stage a siege because the brilliant dragoness transformed right in Raphael’s hands.
Half a curse was all he got out before Elizabeth zapped him.
It wasn’t as hard as she had originally intended, now doubly certain of their death if they failed to exit this room with him alive and compliant.
Pan was safely out of reach, flapping and hopping her way to the door. She slammed it shut with her tail. A metal lock bar that Elizabeth hadn’t paid attention to earlier dropped into place with Pan’s snout, securing their prison.
Their hostage dropped to the ground with an unfortunate thunk of his head on the stone.
“Uh, he’s okay,” Elizabeth said, falling to her knees to check on him.
She hoped Raphael was hard headed. The plan had never included killing Victoria’s mate.
Pan’s dragon didn’t respond, but she did stare down at the body.
Pounding on the door and shouts for their hostage brought Elizabeth’s attention back to the other immediate problem.
The rattle of the hinges made her worry that their protection wouldn’t hold much longer than her illusion wall had the first time against dragons.
“Stop that right now!” she yelled.
Surprisingly, it stopped.
“Who am I speaking to?” came from behind the door.
It sounded like the only other dragon she knew.
She wondered, again, why Geer wasn’t in her head?
Why didn’t he recognize her?
“Geer,” she addressed him. “You may stay for the negotiations after you tell whoever is with you to clear the way for myself and the dragoness to exit. I want all dragons—except for yourself—to lock themselves in the big room at the front. I saw the double doors. I want them shut, and I can check, using my magic.”
There was some whispered conversation, sprinkled with a lot of cursing, on the other side of the door, which she shamelessly listened to through Geer.
At least a dozen minds were crowded in the hallway, after which she gave up counting.
There were enough of them to keep the argument going on for a while. She didn’t know how long their hostage would stay unconscious after the blow she’d dealt him.
The dragons on the other side of the door needed encouragement to hurry, before her ass was toasted by Raphael.
“The dragoness is not here for your—” Elizabeth cut herself off, deciding to upgrade Raphael’s title as acknowledgement that he ruled this clan. “—your king. I am. Your king is in check. Consider this your last chance,” Elizabeth said.
“How do I know you haven’t killed him?” Geer asked.
He ought to know better—there was Victoria to consider—but perhaps the question was intended more for the rest of the dragons arguing against trusting her.
Dragons had trust issues for good reason. Of course, they would want proof of life.
The original plan involved bargaining only with their hostage. Negotiations with others woul
d make everything more difficult.
Negotiating with Geer when he had a direct line to her thoughts—if he so chose to employ it?
Impossible!
“Will you let us leave alive and unharmed if he is dead?” she finally asked.
She was trying to figure out a way to state she wasn't going to kill their hostage, but without also appearing weak. It had to look like not killing Raphael was sensible, and left them in a position of strength.
“No,” was the immediate response.
It sent a chill of warning up her spine. Geer sounded deadly serious.
“There’s your answer. He’s unconscious but breathing. If we have nothing to lose, his breathing will be the next to go,” she said, keeping the power of negotiating the terms firmly on her side.
Pan’s dragon was staring at her with cat-like awareness, ready to pounce, but satisfied by watching every little thing Elizabeth did or said as the dragoness judged her vulnerabilities.
It was the most Elizabeth had felt like prey in front of the dragoness since she’d met her.
Terrible timing, and it probably had to do with Pan transforming so suddenly. That had not been part of the plans. The animal-side of Pan’s familiar had been spooked!
Did she have to protect herself from Pan as well?
“The dark clan dragons will comply with your request if you give us proof the dragoness is unharmed,” Geer said.
“What? I thought you were worried about your king. He's fine. My friend is fine," Elizabeth said. “Worry more about me,” she muttered under her breath. “The dragoness is in front of the door. Can’t you see her scaly tail under the crack. It glows like liquid mercury in the candlelight.”
Bodies crouched down and did exactly what she had asked.
“Move your tail,” Elizabeth suggested for good measure.
Pan just stared.
“Look, she’s in shock or something. You guys need to back away,” Elizabeth said.
Geer spoke in a calm, measured voice.
“The dragoness transformed under duress. The ones currently in danger are either unconscious or not in possession of a scaly tail on the other side of this door. Open up and I’ll try to save you after we secure our king.”
Yup, that was what Elizabeth had been worried was going to happen with Pan’s dragon eyeing her more like a snack.
Elizabeth swallowed, her mouth parched with fear. It wasn’t that she couldn’t protect herself, but rather that she didn’t want to hurt a friend.
The fault really laid with her for even coming up with this foolhardy plan.
“She’s in front of the door, like I said,” Elizabeth responded. “The only door to this room,” she dryly added.
“Who am I speaking to?” Geer asked again. “You sound familiar.”
“Elizabeth,” she answered.
Really?
"Why are you acting as if you don’t know me?" Elizabeth asked using lightning.
"You cannot acknowledge our connection, gaisa. It’s isn’t safe for you here. Let me help you!" Geer said. “Now, do as I ask.”
“Elizabeth, why have you taken our king hostage?” Geer asked out loud for their audience.
“Are we alone?”
“No, but I’ll send the dragon warriors to the end of the hall if it makes you more comfortable,” he offered.
Yes, she definitely wanted them gone.
She heard a lot of shuffling, telling her that he’d done it already.
“I told you to have them lock themselv—”
“Stop stalling. We have all the privacy you are going to get, assassin.”
She was going to get back at Geer for putting her through this when he could have fixed it all by acknowledging her, even for a moment.
His warning made her obey his order to keep quiet about their mate-bond. He must have good reason.
He’d better have a good reason!
If he was purposefully claiming ignorance in order to make her suffer for her mistake in coming here, she’d kill him.
“First, I’m not an assassin,” she insisted despite her deadly thoughts. “Pretty stupid to attack in the heart of a dragon lair when I could wait for Raphael outside with a crossbow.”
“Hmm,” Geer said in response. It sounded like agreement.
“Second, what I want is between your king and myself—”
“Not if you’re bargaining for my help as well,” Geer interrupted.
"You should always come to me, gaisa, if you need help," Geer said.
“You didn’t let me finish. I’ll tell you what the dragoness wants: freedom for the light-clan dragonesses.”
There was a heavy pause.
“We were already planning to kill that usurper king,” Geer announced, like he was telling her it was tea time.
His casual mention of murder sent more shivers up her spine. A dragon mate didn’t seem peaceful at all.
“Fine. The bargaining will go swimmingly for the dragons. Now, as for what I want, let’s start with the warriors locking themselves up and—”
One moment there was an unconscious male under her and the next second she was falling off a dark dragon.
“Elizabeth!” called Geer as she screamed.
He repeated his yell telepathically.
Sweet air caught her, instinct forcing her magic out without thought.
She hovered, lying horizontally, fear and shock still plastered on her face as Raphael snapped his teeth inches from her body.
Dragon-fire flamed over her as Pan sent a warning shot.
Elizabeth shielded full lightning, cutting off her air.
Gravity carried her the rest of the way to the stone ground, the impact knocking the breath out of her.
Dragon feet were large, clawed, and scary, when seen from the ground one was lying upon.
“Geer, get the hell in here!” she shouted.
She heaved a breath back in and scrambled to get out of the way of the circling dragons before they charged again.
The door rattled. “Metal bar,” he reminded her.
Raphael’s blue fire landed harmlessly away from Pan, but dangerously close to her.
“Deal with it!” Elizabeth shouted at the door.
“This is not proper negotiation technique!” came back the complaint, no longer calm and collected.
“Well, Raphael is a terrible hostage!” she shouted back.
Raphael roared.
Pan transformed again, dropping to her knees—in a deep bow before the huge, grey dragon.
She pulled her hair to the side, baring her neck.
Elizabeth dropped her lightning-shield and tried to look tiny and insignificant, which wasn’t that hard next to a dragon.
He would never see what hit him if he hurt Pan.
The moment of total silence was apparently all the motivation Geer needed. He walked through the door, the bar holding it closed sliced right down the middle—by whatever means.
The rest of the door fell towards Geer, the hinges also sliced neatly through. He reached one hand up to catch it, heaving the metal door backwards like it weighed nothing.
The clang of it hitting the wooden doorframe and splintering it, before careening into the hallway—like a rectangular cannonball—was met by a few males shouts and Geer’s instruction to wait.
Military was her first impression of Geer. He wasn’t as tall as Raphael, compact muscles and efficient movement that got him from the door and in front of the biggest threat in seconds.
Short, trimmed blonde hair and clean-shaven. His boring t-shirt and cotton pants were neat, although a bit dirty. Golden brown eyes snapped over to her, easily his best feature.
They could hold a lot of warmth in the right circumstances, or fiery annoyance, like right now.
There were a number of tattoos on his arms, and most of them glowing. Another circled his neck, heavily inked, and a golden torq peeked out from his ratty t-shirt’s collar.
Most shockingly, he looked not quite twent
y.
His youth left her with her jaw dropped. He’d come across in her head as grumpier and older, much older.
“Get on your knees, witch,” Geer advised.
"Submit in front of Raphael and beg mercy. Bow your head to the ground!" he added, telepathically.
Elizabeth gave him a snide look full of false bravado. She felt like a puffer-fish trying to blow herself up to appear scarier.
What happened to calling her his gaisa?
“Do you consider negotiating on your knees the only proper technique?” Elizabeth asked, keeping her tone dry.
It was her only defence from letting Geer know that she was thrown completely for a loop.
Geer’s lips twitched.
He stepped between her and Raphael, stopping the big dragon from taking a bite out of her by rapping him on his snout.
“She’s got milk in her ears still, Raphael. Ignore the witchling. She can’t escape. Let’s check the dragonling she’s brought to us first,” Geer murmured, using soothing tones.
"Unbelievable. If anyone is still in diapers here, it’s you,” Elizabeth muttered into his mind.
Geer ignored her telepathic comment. He quickly turned away, shrugging out of his shirt and covering Pan with the blanket-like proportions of it over her bared back.
“I’ve come for a visit, cousin,” Pan said, her head still bowed. “Please stop threatening my friend.”
The grey dragon transformed, standing proud and naked.
Elizabeth sighed, looking towards Geer.
“We’re going to need to negotiate for more clothes and dinner.”
Pan’s stomach rumbled loudly at the thought.
Geer’s lips twitched again.
"If you had come in the front door, announced, supper would have been the first thing offered. Tonight’s chicken."
“Go to the closet,” Raphael said, pointing to the back of his room. “Geer will have chicken sent here.”
“Don’t burn it,” Pan requested, rising and walking past her cousin with Geer’s shirt wrapped around her front.
Elizabeth thought about the nearly raw drumstick that the dragon sentries had toasted and eaten. No way she could eat her chicken with blood still dripping from the bone.
“Fully cooked,” Elizabeth added. She gave a wide berth to the Raphael as she followed Pan.
Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3) Page 18
