Dragonsbane (Book 3) (28 page)

The moment she caught her breath, Nadine marched straight for Lysander. “What happened? You were supposed to go in
quietly
!”

“Yes, well, things got a bit out of h — oh by Gravy, put me
down
!”

Declan opened his arms, dumping Lysander and Jonathan onto the grass.

Morris chuckled as he watched the city burn. “That’s more than a
bit
, Captain. I suppose we’ll have to add this to the list of places you aren’t allowed back.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Lysander agreed, grimacing as he massaged his ribs.  

Jonathan’s hand uncurled slowly from around his fiddle. “Oh, my poor fingers. They’re burning worse than a desert bloke’s backside!”

Nadine jabbed her spear into the ground. “You were supposed to go in quietly and get him out. Instead, you set fire to everything!”

“Oh, calm yourself, wee mite,” Declan said.

Nadine gaped at his uncharacteristically silly grin for a moment before she narrowed her eyes. “You are drunk.”

He shrugged. “A little bit, yeh. That mountain ale is heady stuff. But it’s a wonder, I tell you. There was battling all around me and I didn’t go mad!”

“I cannot believe y — let me go!”

Declan spun her around by the shoulders, laughing when she tried to kick him. He’d gone to lift her higher when the pommel of a knife struck his head with a
thwap
.

“Set her down,” Elena growled as she pulled another knife from her bandolier, “or I’ll hit you with the pointy end.”

Nadine let out a cry at the sight of her. Elena slid off her dapple-gray horse just as Nadine hurtled into her chest. “I knew you would come back to us.” She pulled away and took both of Elena’s hands in hers. “Did you find your peace?”

“Briefly,” she said with a sigh. “Then Jake set fire to my inn.”

“I did no such thing,” he said indignantly. He’d been trying to dismount, but wound up with one foot on the ground and the other tangled in the stirrup. Braver stood patiently as Jake tried to tug himself free. “You were the one who started the fire —”

“Odd. I seem to remember
you
were the one who lit the lantern.”

“Well, I had no idea you were going to use it to burn down a city. Otherwise I never would’ve given — could somebody
please
get me free of this confounded beast?”

Nadine pulled his boot out of the stirrup and he stumbled backwards.

Elena crossed her arms. “Consider this, mage: because of your spell, we’ve purged the land of a bunch of murderers and thieves. Is that such a bad thing?”

Jake turned back towards the city. For a moment, his spectacles reflected the dancing flames. “I’m not your tool, Elena. I won’t be used. There’s too much blood on my hands already.”

Elena glared as he stalked away, shaking her head. Then she turned to the waiting crowd. “So, I hear you lot are on some sort of hopeless quest to free the mountains … mind if I come along?”

Chapter 25

Where the Darkness Began

Life in the mountains followed a harsh rhythm.

The gray hours of the morning stretched longer here than anywhere else in the Kingdom, simply because the sun had so much further to climb. Daylight passed above them briefly — though by the time it’d fought its way through the clouds, there was very little warmth left to it. When the sun fell back behind the peaks, the long, cold night began.

Kyleigh often woke to the sound of the mountain’s voice. It was fainter this far from the summit, but no less menacing. Winds howled through the darkest hours of the night. They rattled under her door and made bumps crawl across her skin. She wasn’t supposed to be there. The mountains wanted her out.

It was like living each day with a knife pressed against her throat.

Her task was only half-finished — for now, there would be no escaping the voice. So she spent her time at the forge, letting the noise of her work drown out the mountain’s ghostly taunts.

The things Kael had taught the craftsmen took their skills to extraordinary heights. They had no need for the anvil or flame: they shaped swords with their hands and pounded out armor with their fists. It wouldn’t be long before the wildmen were suited and ready for battle.

There was just one problem.

“I’ve acted rashly,” Gwen said as she clomped around the forge. “I see that, now. Were it only my own life at stake, I would gladly risk it — I would fight until I had nothing left to give, as I once did. But things aren’t how they used to be, are they?” The words were almost spiteful. She took a deep breath. “My father would’ve thought first of his people. The wildmen are happy here. And more importantly, they’re safe.”

“You’re camped right in the middle of his great bloody road, Gwen,” Kyleigh said through her teeth. “Rest assured that Titus knows
exactly where you are. If he hasn’t attacked you yet, it’s only because he’s got something worse in mind.”

“Why would he come down? He has the summit. He won’t bother us again.”

“He’s not a bear — he’s a man. Territory isn’t the only thing he cares about. One of these days he
will
attack you, and then his game will begin.”

She thrust a red-hot blade into the water trough. It hissed and spat as it cooled. Gwen watched the steam rise, smirking. “I’m not afraid of him. The day he strikes us here will be a very sore day, indeed.”

“Sore for you, perhaps,” Kyleigh muttered under her breath.

Gwen turned. “What would you have me do, pest? My craftsmen are useless, my army is a ragged strip of what it was, and each day more of these soft-skinned downmountain folk come to my village, begging for shelter. Sometimes being Thane means you’ve got to do what’s best for your people — even if it costs you your home.”

The swirls of paint on her face twisted as she pursed her lips. Kyleigh couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her. “Kael will think of something.”

“Really? Is he going to carve a thousand warriors from the trees?” Gwen shook her head. “He’s taught my craftsmen some entertaining tricks. But he isn’t like our last Wright — he can’t fight worth anything.”

“I think you’re scared.”

Kyleigh didn’t move when Gwen stalked over. She leaned in until their faces were hardly a hand’s breadth apart. “What was that, pest?”

“You heard me. Stop dragging your arse, Gwen — you know what he’s capable of.”

“I know only what you’ve told me. I haven’t seen it for myself. And until I’m convinced, my people will stay put.”

Kyleigh struggled to keep her voice even as she growled: “How do I convince you, then? Tell me what I have to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Well …” Her eyes brightened as they scraped down Kyleigh’s throat. “Perhaps if the mutt could manage to do something I never could, something I’d always wanted to do … I might find
that
impressive.”

She knew what Gwen meant — she read it in a dark, glinting corner of her stare. And she bristled against the thought. “I’m not doing that.”

“Why ever not?”

“You’d win either way.”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t see it coming, pest. You knew I wasn’t going to let you off so easily. I want to see you truly,
thoroughly
punished. I want you to suffer the same humiliation I’ve suffered. I want you to know my pain.” Gwen pressed a thumb against Kyleigh’s chin. She turned her head this way and that, smirking. “I’m looking forward to adding you to my collection. I’ve already got a spot picked out.”

“Provided I don’t snap you in half before then. Or maybe I’ll swallow you whole — that way you’ll have plenty of time to think about what an absolute pain you’ve been while you’re melted down.”

Gwen slapped her. It was more playful than anything: just hard enough to give her something to think about. She grinned over her shoulder as she strode from the room.

It was nearing midday when an obnoxious scratching sound drew Kyleigh back to the door. “Why can’t you go for a walk in the woods like a normal creature?” she muttered as she let Silas in.

He stretched quickly into his human skin, gasping as if he’d been holding his breath. “I would have to walk for hours to escape their eyes. These Marked Ones are always sneaking about, lurking behind boulders and high up in trees. Is there nothing they can’t climb?”

“I doubt it. Just have a look around before you do any changing.”

“Their human scent mixes with the animals they wear. I can never get a clear smell …” His words dissolved into grumbles as he paced about the room. Every few steps he would shake a leg out behind him — as if he had something sticky on the bottoms of his feet. “These pants only have a few changes left in them. Soon they’ll be so tight —”

“Just take them off, then. You were always moaning about how you’d rather run around in your skin. So find yourself a quiet patch of forest and have at it,” Kyleigh said distractedly.

She was trying to measure a hilt for fitting, but her mind was so lost on other things that she could barely concentrate. It was several moments before she realized that Silas hadn’t replied.

His pacing steps were suddenly much lighter. He walked as if he feared he might tumble through the floor — which Kyleigh thought was rather interesting. “Why are you still here?”

“Why do I do anything? It’s because I choose to. Save your stupid questions, dragoness.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he blurted out: “Your Marked One angers me.”

She hadn’t been expecting to hear that. “Why? What has he done?”

“I don’t know,” Silas growled. His fists clenched and his pacing grew even more dangerously light. “He’s
done
nothing. Yet, he angers me. I want to kill him — but in the same breath, I feel that crushing his body will never rid me of his spirit. My anger will not burn out. It will haunt me always. I feel it … in here," Silas said, gripping at his chest in surprise. "I didn't know my chest could be empty. What is this feeling?"

Kyleigh knew what he felt. She knew it all too well. “Jealousy —
it's a human emotion."

Silas raised his brows. “
I see. And what is
jealousy
?"

Selfishness
, the dragon in her said.
Refusing to do what’s best for those you love
. But for all the dragon’s wisdom, it was the human that spoke aloud:

“
It's when you want something so badly, but it's always just out of reach. Then somebody else comes along, someone who knows nothing of your struggles. They don't understand the heartache you've had to endure. They simply walk up, and they take it — they take the thing you wanted so badly straight out of your grasp. And you can't even be angry because deep in your heart, you know they're better suited for it. That's what it feels like to be jealous.”

Silas’s glowing eyes had gone wide while she spoke. “
Hmm … perhaps I was only hungry.”

Kyleigh said nothing. He could deny it all he wanted
, but she’d felt the same thing. She’d felt it every time Gwen and Kael returned from a hunt, every time the Thane goaded him into a fight … every time she did something that made the red burn his face.

Jealousy was a strange feeling — fiery and cold all at once. Her dragon wisdom was a flimsy defense against it, a thin pane of glass stretched over a growling storm. But for now, it was enough.

It would
have
to be enough.

*******

Kyleigh didn’t go to dinner that night. She spent the long hours of the evening thrashing at her forge — letting the dragon stuff her bothersome human worries aside.

Night passed. Morning came and went. Her hammer fell in careful strokes. The tones that struck her ears were sharp at first, but rang sweetly at the ends. She found herself humming along with it — sometimes matching the pitch, sometimes just above or below. Her voice danced with the beating of the hammer in an unbroken song.

Then the music ended with a sharp hiss and a cloud of steam.

“Is that why Harbinger sings?”

Kyleigh’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d been trying so desperately to drown everything out that she hadn’t been listening for the door. Now Kael stood directly behind her.

Something strange had happened to him. It had all started with his gait: he used to walk with his shoulders slightly forward, like he meant to ward off every eye. But now they’d crept back so far that anybody who didn’t know him well might accidentally mistake him for someone who was all right with being looked at.

It wasn’t long after his shoulders straightened that bits of his rough-spun clothes had begun to disappear — only to be replaced by the furs of the creatures he hunted. Now even most of
those
were gone.

He stood before her now in nothing but boots and patchwork trousers. There was dirt on his limbs, scruff on his face, and little bramble scratches across his chest. He looked positively wild.

And it suited him.

Kyleigh tore her eyes away quickly. “How long have you been standing there?” She’d gone to pull the lid shut over her forge when she noticed Kael wasn’t sweating. He wasn’t squinting or coiling back. The heat didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“I’ve been trying something out,” he said when he saw her gaping. “You didn’t answer me. Does Harbinger sing because you do?”

“I … I suppose so. I forged him from my scales, inside my flame … perhaps he was already so much a part of me that my songs gave him a voice of his own. I’ve never really given it much thought.”

He studied the yellow fury of the flames, his eyes bright with interest. “Your forges are different from the others I’ve seen. In
Blades and Bellows
it says that a forge should be opened so that the flames can feed on the air.”

“Well, that book is about forging with regular flame. Dragonflame is different.”

“How so?”

Kyleigh knew she had to be careful. His question seemed innocent enough, but it might dip into deeper things — things better left unsaid. “Air feeds regular flame, but it’ll suffocate dragonflame.”

“Why?”

“I suppose it’s because our fires sit inside our bellies most of the time. A dragon’s breath is certainly hot, but it burns out quickly in the open air. That’s why I have to keep my forge covered.”

He stepped closer to the flame, his brows furrowed in concentration. She was certain there wasn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. “How long does it last?”

“Forever, if the air doesn’t get to it. I have to close it up every now and then to let the flames grow back — Kael!”

She grabbed him just before he could reach the fire. She tried to pull him back, but his arm slid only so far before it stopped. A new strength twined through his limbs like cords — pulled taut beneath his skin. She knew that to move him an inch would be like trying to pull a rope tied to the mountains.

“It’ll melt your flesh off the bone,”
she said, glaring to mask her surprise.

He pulled her hand away. “No, it won’t. Trust me.” 

She had to cross her arms very tightly as Kael reached for the flames. She realized she could no longer stop him. The days when she’d been able to pull him from danger were over. Now there would be no contending with his stubborn will.

He’s strong enough on his own
, the dragon reminded her.
You should be happy for him.

She
was
happy for him … though she was also a little sad. Watching how he’d grown was like weathering the change of seasons: half of her was excited for summer, but the other half would miss the spring.

Her toes curled as Kael’s hand went into the flames. She reached for him instinctively, expecting him to yelp in pain. But his smile stopped her short.

It was one of his rarest smiles: an involuntary mix of confidence and joy — a moment when his spiny shell peeled back to reveal his secrets. His fingers ran through the flames, making them dance across his palm. The thrill that wafted from him thickened the air like a pirate’s grog. It made her feel numb and powerful all at once.