dragon archives 05 - forever a dragon (30 page)

“He wanted to wrest mastership from me. He also kidnapped Keira and her sister. He was going to kill them.”

“He killed my father because he hated you?”

“Yes.”

Lleland nodded. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“I’ll leave. But think about what I said. Don’t become Jack’s last victim.”

A carriage, sent by Syngen Gail, arrived at the university a short while later, and Lleland climbed into it gratefully. He leaned against the plush velvet seats and closed his eyes as the carriage rattled along the cobbled roads. Because of Aaron, his father had lost his life. The cord of fate became more snarled and twisted. The carriage lurched to a stop fifteen minutes later outside the ornate ambassadorial residence. A footman led Lleland past the hall and up a flight of stairs into the parlor. Muriel smiled at him from her seat beneath the window, and the sweet scent of pleasure filled the air.

“Master Seaton, please come in,” she said. She gestured towards a seat opposite her, and Lleland took it gratefully. “Are you quite all right?” she said. “You look a little pale.”

Lleland forced a smile. “Quite fine, thank you Mistress.”

“Uncle Syngen will be down in a moment.” The book Lleland had lent her was on her lap, and she laid her hands over it as she spoke.

“How did you find the book?” Lleland asked. His head was pounding.

“I enjoyed it.” She looked down. “Some of it was a bit difficult to understand.”

“Were you able to answer any of my questions?”

Muriel held out a sheet of paper with an eager smile. “I tried! Look, here it is.”

Lleland took the sheet. “I’ll have a look some other time. But I’ve brought another book for you.” He held up a much larger tome, and Muriel’s smile faltered slightly.

“I’ll start reading it tonight,” she said.

Syngen walked into the room. “What? Another book? Trying to be a martyr to philosophy, Muriel? You know I’ve already been pushed beyond what any man would consider tolerable when it comes to hearing Aristotle night after night. And in Latin, mind you.” Muriel flushed and looked at the book in her hands, and Syngen laughed. “I’m teasing you, Muriel. I’m glad you have something to occupy your mind. Although, if Terran ever learns I’m being instructed in philosophy by my niece, he’ll recall me in an instant!” He grinned as he turned to Lleland. “How go your classes? Are your students all as eager to learn as my niece here?”

“Unfortunately not.”

A footman appeared at the door to the dining room. “Supper is ready, milord,” he said.

“Excellent.” Syngen held out his arm to his niece. “Shall we?” She glanced at Lleland, but took the proffered arm as Lleland rose to his feet. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he grabbed his chair. It passed in a moment, and he looked up to see that Muriel had dropped her uncle’s arm and stepped to his side. “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously. “You look quite unwell. Perhaps you should sit.”

Lleland moved his hand from the chair. “I think I stood too quickly! I haven’t eaten since early this morning!”

“Are you sure you don’t need to lie down? I could send for some wine.”

“No, no, I’m quite fine.”

Muriel glanced at Syngen, who shrugged, and after a moment she took his arm once more and headed through the door, glancing back over her shoulder as Lleland slowly followed. The room started spinning, bringing another wave of nausea, and Lleland grabbed the doorframe as blackness overtook him and he fell to the floor.

A sharp, acrid smell brought him to his senses, and he opened his eyes to see Muriel kneeling anxiously beside him, holding a burning feather beneath his nose. Syngen was speaking to one of the footmen. “Take him to the garden chamber,” he said.

“No,” Lleland said, struggling to rise to his feet, “I’m fine. I’ll just return home, if you don’t mind me using the carriage again.”

“You’re in no fit state to go anywhere,” Syngen said. He nodded at the footman, who pulled Lleland to his feet and half dragged him up the stairs. Lleland had no strength to resist, and he clutched the man’s arm as he was led down a passage and into a small chamber. Muriel followed them into the room.

“Lie down, Master Seaton,” she said, indicating the bed.

Lleland sat down. “My apologies, Mistress,” he said. “I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“I will send for some wine.” She left the room as Lleland reached for the chamber pot beneath the bed and retched. He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. A few minutes passed before the door opened again and a woman entered the room. She pushed a strand of gray hair into the greasy cap on her head, and placed her hands on her stout hips.

“I was told to tend to you,” the woman said. “I’m Jones.” She placed a hand on Lleland’s forehead. “You’re burning up.” She poked her head out the door and shouted for someone to bring cold water and rags. She turned back to Lleland. “We must get your clothes off.”

Lleland pushed himself onto one elbow as the woman eased off his tunic, then fell back onto the bed. A maid brought in a pile of linens and a jug of water. Jones wet the cloths and laid them over his chest, her eyes widening as they quickly steamed dry. In silence she compressed her lips together and soaked more, placing layer upon layer over his chest and down his side, before looking down at his legs.

“Now your breeches,” she said.

“I’ll do it,” he said weakly. “And pass me something to cover myself.”

“I’ve seen plenty of naked men in my day,” said Jones with a leer. “No need to worry about your dignity.”

Lleland shivered. “I’ll preserve what little I have left,” he said.

The woman laughed and handed him a sheet before turning to face the door. He stripped off his breeches and stockings and covered himself as the woman turned around. She soaked more linens and wrapped them around his feet, then replaced those on his chest, which were dry. “You should be dead with such a fever,” she said. Lleland was silent.

Syngen came by a short while later. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s alive, that’s all I can say,” said Jones. “Though for the love of God I cannot say why.”

“He’s dying?”

“He’s burning such a fever, it’s a wonder the bed’s not aflame.”

“Very well. Give me a minute alone with him.” Syngen waited as Jones left the room, then walked over to the bed. “It’s clear you cannot return to the university tonight. I’ve already sent word that you won’t be back. Can I contact someone to take over your classes?”

“No. I must return. I’ll be fine by morning.”

“Jones says you’re deathly ill. I cannot allow you to leave.” Lleland closed his eyes. “I’ll let you get some rest,” Syngen said. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?”

“Open the window.”

There was a creak as the shutters were pushed open and cool, fresh air flowed into the room. The door to the room closed as Lleland breathed in deeply and blew out a stream of flame.

Chapter 34

Lleland dozed. In the distance he heard a door open and the soft, muted sounds of voices, but his mind was too dull to follow the conversation. A few minutes later his own door opened, and a soft fragrance of summer and berries filled the room, tinged with something else. Anger. He opened his eyes to see Lydia standing at the foot of the bed, arms akimbo.

“What you are doing here?” Lleland said.

“Zach overheard the Dean saying you were ill. But the question is, what are
you
doing here?”

Footsteps hurried down the passage, and Muriel burst into the room. “I’m sorry, Master Seaton,” she said. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “This woman refused to leave. I told her you weren’t to be disturbed, but she wouldn’t listen. Should I send someone to escort her out?”

“It’s all right, Mistress,” Lleland said. “Mistress Drake is a, er, friend.” He glanced at Lydia, who was watching him with eyebrows raised.

“I need to speak with Lleland alone,” she said. Muriel’s lips compressed into a thin line as she looked at Lleland. He nodded, and she left with a frown.

“How could you, Lleland?” Lydia said as soon as the door closed behind Muriel. “You’re killing yourself! Giving in!” She pointed her finger at him. “You think you’re a monster, but you’re not! You know the truth, Lleland. You know that dragons are not monsters! But instead of facing up to it, you’re hiding behind your anger. It’s time to let it go!”

“You’re right,” Lleland said. “Not all dragons are monsters. But Jack was.”

“You’re not Jack!”

“How do you know? How do you know what I’ll do if I give in to this animal nature?”

Tears started rolling down her cheeks, and she swiped them away angrily. “You’re allowing your fears to make you weak.” She started pacing.

“I’m not –”

“And what about Muriel Gail? What will she think when you’re dead?”

“Muriel Gail? What does she have to do with this?”

Lydia turned to look at him. “She has feelings for you. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“No.” Lleland pushed himself up in the bed. “Of course not! I lent Mistress Muriel some of my books, and she invited me to supper.”

“Oh. So you care for no-one? Not even yourself?”

“Lydia, I –”

She swiped away more tears. “I cannot listen to you! And I cannot watch you die! I’m going!”

“Lydia, please –” But Lydia was already out the door. Lleland fell back against the bed with a groan. If he only knew the effect Jack’s blood would have on him! Lydia said he was weak – was she right? No! he growled. He was doing this because it was the right this to do. He closed his eyes as the thoughts raced around in his mind. Was he sacrificing his life needlessly? Aaron had said something about fear – that it was the anticipation of evil. He gave a mental nod. Even through his dullness he could see the truth of that. But to conquer his fears, he needed to face them. He’d told his students the same thing many times! Was that true, or false? Perhaps Aaron was right and he wasn’t Jack. Which meant the question was, was he brave enough to face life and find out?

Lleland waited until the house was quiet before he rolled painfully off the bed. He landed on the floor with a thump and groaned. He was dying – he could feel his body shutting down – but as the shadow of death hovered over him, he knew he wanted to give life a chance. Aaron had said he would kill him if he became dangerous. He dragged himself to the chair and found the dagger he kept in his boot. He doubted he had the strength to change his form, but if he was going to live, he needed to hunt. He only hoped he would be able to catch his prey.

He pulled on his breeches and stumbled across the floor to the window. Cold air rushed through the casement, caressing his burning body. He sat down on the window ledge and slowly edged his legs over the sill. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he gripped the sill until it passed, then looked at the ground, twelve feet below. He breathed in deeply and pushed himself out the window. His wings opened slowly, but they caught him just before he hit the hard earth. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled through the grass, weaving like a drunkard. His wings dragged on the ground, but he was too weak to fold them.

He stopped when he saw Lydia, standing in the moonlight. In her arms she held a small doe. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, wondering if he was dreaming, but when he opened them again, she was still there. The doe was quivering, but she stroked it gently, whispering soothingly into its ears. She looked up at Lleland, then knelt down, the doe still in her arms. He walked towards her and sank to the ground.

“Why?” he whispered.

“I couldn’t leave. I stayed here, hoping.” She looked down at the doe, and slowly removed her arms. The creature stumbled to its feet and leapt away, but fast as it was, Lleland was still faster. He shot out his hand and drew the dagger across the creature’s neck. Bright crimson spurted in every direction, and he pulled the animal to his lips, clamping his mouth over the wound. Blood filled his mouth for the first time in weeks, and he closed his eyes as he swallowed the healing liquid. He could feel Lydia’s eyes on him, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the sweet elixir flooding through him, filling him with more strength with each passing moment. When the flow of blood stopped, he used the dagger to slice the creature’s belly, then ripped the flesh away with his teeth. A growl rose in his throat as he ripped and chewed. His tongue sought the last traces of meat, then he flung the carcass away before turning to look at Lydia. He didn’t care that he was splattered with blood, or that she had seen him eating like an animal. A wave of desire washed over him, and he reached out a hand to pull her closer.

“Stop.” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Do you love me?” she said.

He growled and grabbed her hands, pulling her close as he kissed her. She turned her head, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were flaming.

“You didn’t answer me,” she said.

“You gave me your blood,” he snarled. “You bound me to yourself. How do I know what I feel?”

She pulled her hands from his and moved back a pace. “I cannot bind a dragon, Lleland, unless he wills it. I can only bind a human. And you’re definitely not human.”

“That’s right! Because you made me into a monster!”

She rose to her feet and glowered at him. “Yes, Lleland, that’s right. A monster. Just like me.” She stared at him for a moment longer, then turned and walked away.

He wanted to call her back, but he didn’t. Instead he watched as she
walked away from him. Again. Only this time he had chased her away.

He lay on the cold grass for a long time. A bright flash of light lit up the sky, then slowly dissipated. Eventually he rose to his feet and walked back to the house. He was no longer weak – the blood and flesh had increased his strength to dragon proportions. He reached the building and stared up at the window. There was only one way to reach it. He opened his wings and shot into the air. He flew through the open window and walked over to the bed, then turned as another scent assailed him. In a chair in the corner, sword in his hand, sat Syngen Gail.

Lleland stared as Syngen rose, sword outstretched, and walked towards him. “You’re a dragon,” he said. “I should’ve known! You come into my home, befriend my niece and abuse my hospitality while shamming an illness. What I want to know is why? Does the Dragon Master know about this?”