Authors: Michelle Rabe
Tags: #Romance, #Clean & Wholesome, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Romantic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Teen & Young Adult, #Inspirational
Bright sunlight, too bright, warmed the backs of his closed eyelids, and he was aware of birds singing for a few minutes before they squawked and fluttered away on the hum of feathered wings. The earth was cold and hard below him but he was cocooned on either side by something large, leathery and very warm. Killian groaned, shifting his body closer to the heat even as shouts tried to invade his rest, to pull him back to the waking world. He didn’t want to wake, content thinking of Serena in his dreams as she always had been, whispering loving words but never telling him what had happened to her. A cool breeze assaulted his body. Silvery strands of sleep clung to his mind, her voice fading, drowned out by loud shouts.
“Do not fire,” Ryan’s voice commanded, an edge of panic making his voice quaver.
“That creature has injured the prince. Take it down.” Mathias ordered.
Father? What happened? What’s going on?
He rolled on to his side and opened his eyes. From his vantage point near the dragon’s feet Killian saw something that made his blood run cold. His father sat upon his chestnut stallion, surrounded by his personal guard and Killian’s as well. Each one of them held bows or crossbows at the ready.
“Sire, listen,” Ryan implored from somewhere on the other side of the winged beast.
Killian shook off the last vestiges of whatever sleep enchantment the dragon had put him under and pushed himself to his feet. “Father, hold. That creature saved our lives. It should be spared.” He put himself between the dragon and the guards, breathing a silent sigh of relief when the men and women in his guard lowered their weapons, though none of his father’s had.
“And what about the countless people it has killed during its unnatural long life?”
“Father, please. Be reasonable.”
Silence fell in the clearing and no one moved.
A snap, crack,
thunk
split the air.
A high-pitched keening cry filled the air, something hot and thick splashed on Killian’s shoulder.
The prince dragged a hand over the spot and, a second later, stared at the crimson blood staining it. He spun around and was faced with the smooth expanse of red and gold scales glittering in the light. The ground shook beneath his feet as the beast’s front claws slammed into stone. Time seemed to stop as if the world took a breath and held it.
Far in the distance, Killian heard the steady cadence of a massive heart. Another heavy drop of blood fell from the creature, and with a beat of its great wings, took to the air. From the corner of his eye, Killian saw another archer raise his bow and take aim. The prince swept his shield arm out, as though it had been strapped to his arm. A loud crack echoed, and he screamed as white-hot pain lanced through him. He dropped to his knees, cradling his injured arm to his chest. Killian searched the sky and watched the dragon winging its way toward the distant mountains. Sunlight glinting off something a few feet in front of him caught the prince’s eye. He reached out and plucked a dragon scale from the grass. Still warm from the creature’s body he expected it to be hard, but it was soft like supple leather and smooth to the touch.
“That was either very brave or very stupid, Killian. I’m not sure which.” Ryan knelt in front of the prince and held out a hand.
Killian raised his arm, hissing as Ryan took it in his hands and began probing it. “At the moment, it feels damned stupid.”
“You saved the dragon. It saved us, so I’d say you were brave, not stupid.”
“Killian Roderick Rhys, what in the name of all of the Gods were you thinking?” Killian’s father dismounted while his voice boomed the question.
Killian pulled his injured arm back to his chest and slipped the scale into a pocket with his other hand, before turning to face his father. “That creature is the reason I still draw breath. I chose not to see you and your men kill it out of hand.”
“I gave an order and expected it to be obeyed, not have my willful son defy me by injuring himself and possibly one of my own guards. This is
that girl’s
influence. I should have had her removed from court when I realized how infatuated you’d become.”
“If compassion and respect for a creature who saved my life is Serena’s influence, then I welcome and cherish it. It will make me a better ruler.”
“The matter of your betrothal will be decided before the week is out. You will marry whomever your grandmother and I choose for you. We will hear no more of this foolish abdication talk.” The crown prince turned his back on his son, mounted his horse and rode away with four guards. The remaining men and women stayed with Killian and Ryan.
Killian held his tongue, knowing that antagonizing his father would only make things worse. The heir to the throne knew how to wound his son, had known which barbs to throw and what marks they would hit.
“Your Highness?” A young woman in a healer’s smock dipped a low curtsy and waited.
“Rise. How may I help you?” he asked, pulling his court demeanor around him like armor.
“May I tend your arm, sire? If you please?”
Killian nodded and allowed her to lead him away to the healer’s wagon where Ryan was already being tended.
T
he red dragon
flew away from the lake, its acute hearing picking up snippets of the shouting match as she turned and headed for the range of mountains dividing the continent. She would swoop behind them before turning for home, no reason to lead the humans to the lair that would only result in more bloodshed. The long journey lasted most of the day, and she was beyond exhausted when she landed in the courtyard. Shedding her dragon form, Serena collapsed to the cobblestones, shivering.
“Foolish girl. Where have you been?” someone barked as she curled in on herself while trying to keep the warmth from escaping her body. Dirt and pebbles scraped her exposed skin.
“Lake… Killian…” she sputtered through chattering teeth.
The stranger wrapped her in a heavy cloak. “Princess. Can you walk?”
She shook her head. “Not a princess,” she insisted pulling the cloak around her.
“They didn’t tell you,” the strange man muttered under his breath.
Serena wanted to know who this strange man was, but her voice didn’t seem to be working. She tried to push away from him, but her arms felt heavy as if she’d spent a long day training or fighting.
“Just like your mother,” he said with a chuckle under his breath, “and father.”
Serena’s mind spun as he pulled her to her feet. The world swam in and out of focus, and she was sure on the ground was a much safer place to be.
You knew my parents? How? Will you tell me about them? Will I survive? Where do I come from?
She thought she’d asked the questions, but he continued as if she hadn’t said a thing.
“Don’t worry. I am not going to harm you. I am not one of those men. I have been searching for you, again, since I got word you disappeared from Haven.” He pulled one of her arms over his shoulders, his grip tight on her hand. Serena leaned into him, using his body for support when her legs refused to work. The man put his other arm around her waist. “Ancestors, give me strength,” he muttered sounding quite put out just before he propelled them forward.
The world around the two continued to do strange things as they staggered through parts of a keep Serena had never seen before. Walls wavered as though seen across a great distance on a hot day. Furniture appeared from out of nowhere to trip her. Rooms they passed were filled with sumptuous furnishings, roaring fires, long stone corridors, and at least one grand staircase. After more than one encounter with furniture, a near miss involving a large dusty vase, and several collisions with the walls, the man steered them through a door into a sumptuous bedchamber. He stopped beside a bed carved of dark wood with a red sheen. Bed clothes in shades of red and gold were taut over the thick mattress. Heavy velvet drapes hung from the massive canopy. The man pulled back the covers and laid Serena on the mattress.
“Who are you?” Her words slurred, running together so it was difficult to understand, but the man smiled as he took back his cloak.
“I am Altus.” He pulled the blankets up over her and walked to the other side of the bed. “I will explain everything when you wake up, princess.” He stoked the fire, filling the room with a burst of warmth.
Serena tried to speak, but some intrinsic connection between her mouth and her thoughts wasn’t working.
The stranger worked his way around the room, snuffing out candles and lamps. When only the light of the fire remained, he closed the drapes on both sides of the bed and stopped at the foot to regard Serena for a moment. “You have had a very trying past few days, but you are safe now. Just rest and recover. You were gone far longer than I expected.” He pulled the velvet tapestries shut at the foot of the bed and turned off the light.
She rolled onto her side, intending to rise and follow him out of the room, to demand answers, but her muscles wouldn’t respond. A deep-seated exhaustion took hold and dragged her into the black abyss.
Serena woke up in a soft bed on luxurious linens with heavy blankets cocooning her in decadent warmth. She burrowed deeper into them trying to capture a few more minutes of restful slumber. In spite of her comfortable position, every inch of her body ached. Giving up on sleep, she groaned and cracked one eye open, shutting it back when bright light speared into her brain. She cried out in pain, whimpering when the light was too much to bear.
“Ahh, you’re awake,” a soft, cultured male voice said from somewhere off to her right.
Through her closed eyelids, she was aware of the light in the room changing. The red glow subsided, leaving inky blackness in its place. Afraid to move more than necessary but whispering through a clenched jaw, she asked, “Who are you?”
“We met last night. I am Altus, princess.” His voice was much closer this time. At her bedside, if her training hadn’t failed her this time.
With an exhausted groan, Serena opened her eyes all the way and pushed up into a sitting position, swallowing the waves of nausea crashing over her like the ocean at high tide.
“Perhaps you should take it easy, princess. No harm will come to you in my company.”
“Why do you keep doing that?” She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, and her throat burned.
“Doing what?” He held a pewter wrought goblet out to her.
Serena accepted the cup and examined it, the liquid within was pale gold with light droplets of condensation on the outside of the stem and bowl. When she inhaled, the scent of honey vanilla with a hint of ginger filled her nostrils. Her eyes slid halfway closed, and she sighed. “What is this?” Something tugged at the edge of her memory, an incessant buzzing around her ears.
“It is a cordial our people have used for centuries. Besides being one of your favorites, princess.” He took a breath, waiting for a response that didn’t come. “I assure you, it is not poison but will help ease your pains. As I said, our people have used it for centuries.”
“You’ve done it again. Why do you insist on calling me princess?”
“Drink.”
“Answer.”
“You always were headstrong, even with your mother and father, our queen and king.”
“The king is dead, and the queen is not my mother.” Serena’s grip on the goblet tightened, and the thorns dug into the flesh of her palm and fingers.
“You speak of the Illedrian throne. Anastasia is not your sovereign nor was the late King Killian.”
“I am the Lady Governor of Lakeshire province.”
“You are Princess Serena NicArryan. The only living heir of the Arryan, the ruling clan of the Dragon Fey, such as we are. Now. Drink, princess.”
“Impossible.” Her response was breathy as voices whispered through her mind. Something seemed terribly wrong and horribly right at the same time. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the voices, but they drifted into nothingness, leaving her bereft. Without thinking, she lifted the goblet to her lips and drank. “The Dragon Fey are nothing more than tales told to young children.” She shook her head and set the cup on the bedside table. “Besides, I don’t look very…” she said while trying to pull a mockingly scary face… “dragony.”
“Tell me.” Altus settled into a chair, a few feet from the bed. He steepled his long fingers underneath his chin. “What do you recall before waking here?”
“I remember one of those thugs coming into my cell. He informed me of Jeffery Dennsmore’s death and that his daughter, Katia had no use for me.” She shuddered, feeling their hands on her again.
“That man is dead, princess, they all are. None of them will harm another ever again.”
Serena gasped a shuddering breath and pulled the blankets up to her chest, clutching them close as though they were made of chainmail, not cloth. “I got free. I ran. I thought I could escape. I was wrong.” Her voice was dead, no emotion giving words life. “Fire from the sky. Some of it hit me.” She paused, a scowl appearing. “It didn’t burn.”
When she remained silent for several long moments, he asked, “What else?” The spell her parents had laid upon her at the moment of their deaths was breaking down now that Serena had assumed her dragon form once more, and he hoped that meant the rest of her memories would return with time.
“Pain, ripping, tearing, my bones growing, changing. My skin stretching, scratching… scales,” she whispered the last word and held up her hand as if searching for confirmation.
“As I mentioned last night, you are Serena NicArryan. Only daughter of Queen Ellesandra and King Rafe of the Dragon Fey Clans. You had four elder brothers, and from the day you were born, you brought great joy to our people.” Altus leaned forward and met her eyes. “When you were five years old, the human queen sent an envoy to our clans. After several rounds of negotiation, your mother was prepared to sign a treaty with the human kingdom of Illedria. The Dark Fey attacked. By the time word reached the nearest warrior clan and they found the campsite, it was too late. Everyone had been slaughtered, men, women, children, warriors, artisans, innocents and elite. Some believed you were among the dead. However, it was soon discovered you had gone missing.” Altus stood and paced between the bed and the large fireplace a few feet away. “You must understand, princess, our kind is ruled through the maternal line. Though your brothers were older, you were the heir apparent. With the rest of your family dead, we fell into chaos. During the first few months, parties went searching for you, to no avail. After a time, the clans drifted apart. Since then, our numbers have been dwindling with each passing year.”
“How did you find me?”
“Chance. Pure dumb luck.” Altus paused and shook his head. “Most of our remaining people are nomadic though a few of us settle down in one place for extended periods of time.” His eyes seemed to scan the room, a slight melancholy smile curling his lips. “This keep was once your family home. The seat of power for our people. The thugs took it over several years after your parents’ death. Since the remainder of our kind are nomadic, most have not returned. Imagine my shock when I came back to begin preparations for your return and found you, being held by Dark Fey conspirators, in this very place, princess.”
“I have never been anything more than human,” she insisted though the whispers in the back of her mind seemed to have different ideas.
“You hear them, don’t you?”
“Hear what?”
“Close your eyes.”
Serena raised an eyebrow and frowned, but she did as he asked.
“Tell me what you hear.”
“You talking,” she snapped.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Other than that.”
She let out her breath on a sigh and listened, halfheartedly.
The whispered voices stayed in the background, but everyday sounds… the rustling of leaves in the trees, birdsong and the occasional creak of the floorboards… all fell away. In their place came something else. A steady thundering beat, like a massive heart.
Her eyes popped open, light and information flooding her mind, but the whispers and heartbeat remained. “What is that?” she demanded.
“That is what every Dragon Fey hears. The heartbeat of our kind. It is louder, easier for us to hear when there are more of us around.”
Serena shook her head and threw off the covers, her eye catching the embroidered pattern on the cuff of the shirt she didn’t remember putting on. It was Killian’s. Her heart constricted in her chest. For a moment, she fought to breathe, clutching her hand to her chest. Her beloved’s voice drifted out to the din, whispering her name, full of pain and sadness.
Swinging her legs off the bed, she stood. “I have to get back.” The world spun, and her legs gave out, as the ground came up to meet her. Serena heard Altus shout.
“Princess.”
“I have to get back,” she repeated using one of the bed’s four posts to climb to her feet.
“You cannot go.”
“You don’t understand. The man I love is there. If I do not return, he will be forced to marry another.” Serena looked around trying to find her clothes.
“It’s not that,” Altus insisted.
“Then, what is it?” She let go of the post and swayed for a second before feeling the world steady itself underneath her.
“You are not safe among humans.”
“I have lived among them for as long as I can remember.” She rounded on him, her hair a crown of flame framing her face, green-gold eyes flashing with an inner fire.
“Situations are different now, princess.” Altus fought against the urge to drop to his knees in obeisance. She must not have realized it, but her voice had changed. It had taken on an imperious tone that expected an answer without argument.
“How?” She straightened taller, pulling her shoulders back. “You keep calling me princess, insisting I am royalty. Well then, answer my question.”
“You are your mother’s daughter.” A small, sad smile curled his lips. “She was headstrong, even for a fey queen.”
Serena stared stupidly at him, lips parted, forgetting how to breathe. “You knew them?” she whispered, all thoughts of Killian chased from her mind.
“I did,” he whispered. “You remind me of your father but favor your mother.” He gave her precious little information, but enough, hoping to keep her from leaving. She couldn’t go before he had the chance to explain what was happening to her.