The Arrows of the Heart

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “Yes, well. It bears repeating.” I kissed him back. “I’ll love you forever, Zyr.”

  He held me very tightly, as if he’d never let me go.

  We flew inland again, taking up our previous search pattern. Zyr spotted the palace at the same time I did, swiveling his head to stare at the glittering point on one snow-covered peak. The spires rose high like crags of their own, and a darker road showed in places beneath it. “That’s it,” I shouted.

  With a dip of his head in acknowledgement, he struck out at an oblique angle, powerful wings pouring on the speed. The only other time I’d felt him fly this fast was when we’d been trying to outrun those birds, and I’d been distracted then. Lying low on his body to lessen the resistance, I exulted in the sheer freedom of racing through the air like this. Expecting to die made everything—flying, sex, love, even laughter—all that much sweeter.

  Zyr looped behind the peak, climbing as he did—then, coming around, he dove. We’d come in fast and hard, and hope to take them by surprise.

  No such luck. A flight of birds rose from behind the castle towers, all sizes and varieties. They swarmed toward us and Zyr took evasive action, folding his wings in a searing dive, then cracking them open to bring us around nearly horizontal. If I hadn’t been strapped on, I would’ve fallen. As it was, I took full advantage of having my hands free. And I knew Zyr’s body as well as my own from having him moving inside me, knew the flex and play of his muscles, even his intentions, it seemed.

  We moved as one being, the crossbow all I’d hoped, my arrows flying straight and true before I knew I’d aimed. I dropped the biggest from the sky, while Zyr used tail and claws to keep the smaller ones from harrying me. It helped to battle Deyrr’s creatures in the air, because we didn’t need to prevent them coming at us again in their eternal drive to reach us—only disable them so they couldn’t stay aloft.

  It would be different on the ground. A fast-approaching prospect as Zyr, with his trademark single-minded intensity, continued on to the castle, refusing to be distracted by our attackers.

  He poured on the speed—enough so that he left the clumsy Deyrr undead behind—and drove straight for the palace.

  The alert had gone out, clearly, as more fighters, human and animal, poured out of the gates, thronged the walls and crowded the turrets. Some of the humans fired arrows at us, but not well, and Zyr dodged the missiles easily. Shooting us out of the sky wasn’t their primary objective anyway. We’d have the real trouble on our hands when we touched down and they mobbed us to take us captive—or we died stopping them.

  Thus we wouldn’t land. At least not where they expected.

  Zyr folded his wings, tightening his profile, accelerating the dive, and protecting them from injury. I pulled the hood and cloak over my exposed skin, unstrung my recurve and put it in against the protection of my body, the crossbow ready in my lap, and buried my face against Zyr’s silky fur. My part had finished. I’d described the position of the High Priestess’s atrium and how it looked, next to the glassed-in arcade that led to the massive expanse of glass that was the zoo. The zoo would’ve been easier to hit but breaching that would sentence most of the animals and shapeshifters within to a wintry death.

  But we both knew we’d take that if we had to.

  Zyr purred in reassurance and warning, and I inhaled his scent. He’d tease me for being typically and tragically Dasnarian, but if I had to die, I viciously celebrated that I’d die bound to him. His plan might work or it might not.

  Regardless, I’d made my choice and I regretted nothing.

  We hit the glass and time slowed. The shattering, the scream of metal twisting under the impact of our mass hitting it at Zyr’s maximum acceleration. A thousand stings made their way through the heavy cloak and we seemed to drift timelessly.

  Bracing for impact, I felt Zyr disappear out from under me, tucked my head, and rolled. It still stunned me, slamming the breath from my body. Still dizzy, I fought my way free of the cloak, dropping my crossbow at my feet for backup, stringing my thankfully unbroken bow, and nocking an arrow—beyond glad for the long habit that let me do these things without thought.

  Only then did I scan the room, searching out Zyr—who lay on his back, in human form, perfectly beautiful in his blue silk shirt, the High Priestess crouched over him. She bled black oil blood, her face contorted in a snarl of equally black rage as she held his skull, staring into Zyr’s eyes, chanting as he convulsed.

  I shot her through the neck. Not an ideal shot, but the closest I could without risking hitting Zyr. The force of it tipped her off him, and then I followed up with an arrow through her black heart.

  She knelt there, looking up at me, golden hair spilling around her gold-clad body, and laughed at me.

  “Oh, sweetling.” She tsked, giving me a derisive smile. “Surely you didn’t think I’d be that easy to kill?”

  I shot an arrow through her mouth, sending her back to the floor with the force of it. “No,” I replied evenly, “but I figure chopping you into pieces too small to move will accomplish the same thing.”

  I reached down and yanked the jewel from her neck, tossing it to Zyr, who’d climbed to his feet. He moved slowly, disoriented, but he caught it—and immediately swallowed the pendant. There’d be no easy reclaiming of the thing.

  “Did you have to shoot her through the mouth?” he complained. “I want to hear her scream as I dismember her.” His fingers lengthened into long, lethal claws as he stalked toward her. Then he froze, midstep.

  I couldn’t move either. The High Priestess yanked the arrow out of her throat and sat up, leaving the other two piercing her as if they were nothing more than decorations. “Oh, you silly bean,” she hissed. “You stupid, stupid girl. Did you think I needed that paltry jewel to transmit the magic of Deyrr?”

  She stood and prowled over to me, leaned in and sniffed. “And you wasted your maidenhead on this filthy beast. You could’ve had so much more. I offered you a place at my side and you scorned it. For shapeshifter cock.” She shook her head in disgust, slipping my bow from my fingers and sending it skittering across the floor.

  The doors flew open, soldiers streaming into the room, animals on leashes with them, snarling and slavering to reach us. Winged creatures poured in the broken windows, barring that escape, even if we could’ve moved.

  “Did you think that would save you?” the High Priestess asked, her attention on me. “Deyrr is happy to take you on his lap, virgin or not. You’ll just never reach the rank and power that you might have. But you will be his. And you will be mine.” She squeezed my breast, then passed her hand between my legs, smiling sweetly, her eyes lightless pits. “You’ll be my slave, which will be even more fun. Now watch while I cut my necklace out of your pet.”

  Against my will, my head turned, fully in her power, and I saw Zyr staring at me in helpless rage. Though I couldn’t smile at him, or change my expression in any way, I did my best to show my love for him in my eyes. I’ll love you forever.

  He looked back at me, and I thought I saw the same in his wild blue eyes.

  “Hold still now,” the High Priestess crooned, trailing a finger down his chest, parting the silk to bare him. “A pity to mar such a magnificent form. Maybe I’ll heal you after. You and your slut can perform for me. Or I’ll just have you fuck me while she watches. That would be a fitting punishment for her.”

  The scream nearly choked me as his flesh began to part, as easily as his shirt had. So loud it rang in my skull that I didn’t realize the roaring came from outside. A searing blaze of heat washed over me, and I stumbled, nearly falling with the ability to move again.

  Zyr recovered faster, seizing the High Priestess by the throat. And the mob of soldiers flew at him, covering him in a mass of bodies. I ran for my crossbow, and another roar and wash of heat had me spinning to the windows.

  A dragon hovered outside. Enormous and blue-black in the sunshine, gleaming like a jewel. With a man riding on its back.


  The dragon spouted flame, gentle as a blown kiss, melting away the twisted metal frame, clearing the Deyrr creatures from the area just inside the windows, and landed with a grating scrape of immense talons. The man slid down its leg, sword drawn and ran straight at me where I gaped in shock.

  Lieutenant Marskal. “With me, Hawk!” he snapped as he ran past.

  I spun to follow his charge. Zyr had become the gríobhth again, rearing up to use both sets of front claws and that whipping tail to decimate his enemies. I couldn’t see the High Priestess anywhere. Marskal engaged his attackers with cool, calm decision, employing his sword as meticulously as he had in drills. The dragon—Zynda, surely—snaked her head on her long neck, plucking off a bear lumbering for Zyr’s back. She didn’t dare use her flame, I realized, with Zyr in the midst of the fray.

  I shot a human soldier through the eye, knocking him back, and scanned for the High Priestess. Feeding her to Zynda’s incinerating breath would be enough for me.

  But I couldn’t see her, and more soldiers poured in the doors. We’d be overwhelmed soon, even with our rescuers.

  “Zyr!” I shouted, knowing he’d hear me.

  His head swiveled my way, sharp beak dripping blood both red and black. Shaking off a wolf doggedly chewing his wing, Zyr seized Marskal and half-leapt, half-flew with him to me. Marskal vaulted to Zynda’s back, reaching down a hand to me, to pull me up behind him. Zyr flew to her back and shifted into man form behind me.

  Zynda roared, spewing flame across the gallery. But it seemed to hit an invisible wall, evaporating into nothing. Beyond that barrier, the fighters parted, allowing an enormous naked gold man to stride through, the High Priestess by his side. The golden idol of Deyrr, come to life.

  “Go!” I screamed and Zynda backwinged off the terrace, dropping low, and angling through a narrow cleft to the far side of the mountain.

  She put distance between us and the palace, then wheeled until the setting sun warmed our backs, and flew into the clear blue sky. Taking us home.

  ~ 28 ~

  We flew through the evening and all the night, Marskal passing back water and food once he’d made certain that we were mostly unharmed and not followed. He and I—the unfortunate mossbacks of the group—had some cuts and deep bruises, but nothing severe enough to keep us from going on.

  He assured us that Zynda could fly easily to Annfwn, and knew the way—and that it wouldn’t take that long at dragon speeds. We all preferred to get well away from n’Andana and safely home.

  Home. Yes, I looked forward to returning to my adopted home.

  Otherwise, flying on the dragon didn’t allow for much conversation other than terse shouts. I even slept from time to time, warm and secure between the two men—though Zyr kept his arms wrapped around my waist, leaning me back against him so I wouldn’t be too much in contact with Marskal. He needn’t have been jealous, but the gríobhth nature is a possessive one, and I was fine with being possessed by this man I’d chosen.

  I’d given myself to him in the way of my people, and that meant letting him have me in the way of his. Having him nuzzle my neck and press kisses to my temple made the journey that much sweeter.

  We made it to Annfwn at dawn, the sky pink and gold with it. Several Hawks scouts on the backs of flying and swimming shapeshifters spotted us, hailing us with glad welcome. To my astonishment, hundreds—maybe thousands—of sailing ships anchored all around. A perimeter guard of more Hawks and Tala saluted as Zynda sailed through, landing on the beach.

  “Yes, it’s better,” I heard Marskal observe, the wind no longer too loud to hear. “But far from ideal. What if a dragon approaches that isn’t friendly?”

  Zynda cocked her head, shrugging her wings, and it made me wonder if they’d been having a conversation. She crouched down on the sand, and Marskal slid down her leg with practiced agility, then held his arms up for me. Zyr landed on the sand, and shouldered him aside with a frown. “I’ll do that.”

  To my surprise, Marskal, usually so serious, grinned and held up his hands, glancing at Zynda, who’d lowered her head to nuzzle him.

  Zyr helped me down and held me a moment. “Are you good to stand?” he asked, looking me up and down.

  “Yes. Go say a proper hello to your sister.” I began plucking at the ties of the cloak, more than ready to get the sweltering thing off of me in the warmth of Annfwn.

  Zyr nodded crisply, narrowing eyes, walked up to Zynda—and kicked her hard on the snout. “You fucking heroic idiot!” he shouted at her. “You just had to go and do it, didn’t you?”

  Marskal began laughing, silently, bending over with it. I frowned at him, bemused by the reaction. Then gasped when the dragon vanished and Zynda the woman stood in her place. She wore a pale blue wispy gown and her long hair whipped in the breeze. Putting her hands on an astonished Zyr, she pushed him on his ass in the sand.

  “What about you?” she demanded. “What in Moranu were you thinking, storming that castle with only a mossback for help!”

  “You… you can shapeshift back from Final Form,” Zyr stammered, then scrambled to his feet.

  “Brilliant observation.” She threw up her hands. “Turns out Final Form isn’t so final.”

  He leaned in. “Why didn’t you tell me, you stupid harpy?”

  She leaned in, too, eyes blazing with blue fire, just like his. How I’d missed their nearly identical appearance—and natures—I couldn’t imagine.

  “Oh, I don’t know, you whining puppy,” she snarled, “maybe because we were busy saving your miserable life.”

  Zyr blinked into the panther, tumbling her back into the sand. I started forward, but Marskal snagged my arm, and in that moment, Zynda became a tiger, rolling the black cat and pinning him with her great jaws.

  I pulled at Marskal’s grip. “They’ll kill each other.”

  He shook his head, grinning widely. “Trust me. This is something they do. Let them work it out. How about us mossbacks leave them to their Tala games, get patched up and find something real to eat?”

  I glanced dubiously at the squabbling siblings—Zyr now a large brown bear who, quite literally, had the snarling tiger by its tail. “If you’re sure,” I said.

  He slung a companionable arm around my shoulders and pointed me at the cliff city. “I am. And perhaps you and I can swap some tales while we’re at it.”

  A graceful blue heron swept down from the city, landing in front of us and becoming Queen Andromeda. Before I quite assimilated that, she’d seized me in a fierce hug. “You did it, you did it, you did it!” she chanted, rocking us both from side to side in her dance of joy.

  I laughed, hugging her back, the feeling of embracing another woman—a living woman—reminding me of the sisters I’d left behind.

  She set me away from her, holding my shoulders, eyes alight and glimmering with a hint of Moranu’s silver. “I want to hear everything, but first tell me if you’re hurt. I’ve got a healer waiting. What about you, Marskal?”

  He huffed genially. “I’m clearly second-best to the hero of the hour, but I only have a few scratches.”

  “Knowing you Hawks that means just shy of a mortal injury.” Andi took my left arm in her hands, sliding her fingers over the black markings of Deyrr. Her touch tingled, almost like sparks. “I’m removing the last of this taint immediately, however.”

  “Thank you,” I replied fervently. The sparks penetrated, feeling uncomfortably like worms crawling under my skin—with something very like that moving in squirms. Marskal watched with interest, but I had to look away. Two raptors dive-bombed each other nearby, Zyr and Zynda, still at it. A huge shadow passed overhead and I squeaked in alarm.

  “It’s Kiraka,” Andi murumured. “Hold still. She wanted to hear your report of n’Andana.”

  “Oh,” I said, wondering how I was supposed to talk to the ancient dragon, one reported to be excessively cranky and inclined to incinerate people who annoyed her. “Ow!”

  “Sorry.” Andi didn’t sound at all
sorry and I glared at her intent face. The great bronze dragon alighted on the beach, folding her wings and lying flat in a sinuous curve. A petite figure on her back climbed down, rather awkwardly, then put her hands on the small of her back and arched, her very pregnant belly obvious in silhouette. Queen Dafne Nakoa Kau Po. This got better all the time. Marskal strode over to great her—probably the dragon, too, for all I knew.

  Andi finally released my arm, and when she met my eyes, hers glowed with fulminous moonlight as in my vision. Andromeda the sorceress. “The taint is gone,” she told me, echoes of that ocean sound in her voice.

  I glanced at my arm, seeing the chain of black talons still chasing themselves around the curve of my muscle.

  “I can’t get rid of the mark entirely, not without abrading the skin, and then it would leave a scar,” she told me with regret. “But we can do that if you want it gone.”

  “No,” I said. “That’s all right. It’s a reminder that I’m not the same person I used to be.”

  Andi nodded gravely. “A badge of honor.” Then she smiled, glancing at the still-battling Zynda and Zyr. “Come on, let’s heal and feed you, then you can tell us all your tales.”

  It ended up being hours of tale-telling, especially as King Rayfe and Queen Andromeda declared we could eat in the council chambers and brief everyone relevant at once. Dafne sat with us, relating questions and details from Kiraka. They’d gotten the bones of our story out of me—over hot tea and a plate various people kept filling for me—before Zynda and Zyr joined us. They’d both shifted back to their cleaned-up versions of themselves, so showed no signs of their spontaneous battle—but also had their arms around the other’s waist and heads tilted together in some quiet exchange.

  They parted as they reached our gathering, Zynda giving me a warm smile that made her deep blue eyes sparkle, before she went to Marskal and slid into the seat next to him. Zyr simply picked me up, sat in my place, and settled me on his lap, oblivious to the interested looks around the table. I gestured to my plate and he helped himself to that, too.