Rion (31 page)

No way was she leaving him behind while she flew to safety. She circled and returned to the building. The squad of Unari were
firing at Rion, their whips flaring across his scales—while he stomped one to death and razed three more men with one powerful
wing. Several Unari had locked their whips on him and fired continuous bursts of light along Rion’s tail and shoulders.

Merlin flew out of nowhere and pecked at a Unari’s eyes. The man screamed and went down.

Marisa hissed, drawing their attention. And the lash of their whips.

The Unari lashed whips at Rion, Marisa, and one tiny owl. Rion breathed a roar of fire, instantly roasting the Unari alive.
Merlin hooted and soared out the window.

Rion had taken out one flank, but the Unari soldiers on his other side took cover behind the columns. Most of their shots
went wild. But one sliced Marisa’s neck, burning a trail of agony. Turning, she roared, releasing her own fire, blasting one
side of the building and felling two Unari. The pain from the whips weakened her, and not just physically. The emotional boost
from Rion’s kiss was dissipating, replaced by the terrible nerve pain that shot constant agony into every dragon on the planet.
Certain she was burning, her very bones on fire, she humanshaped.

Her clothing repaired itself, but she barely noticed. Before she recovered, the Unari dropped a huge net over her, a net of
steel, she realized dully. She could no longer dragonshape, not if she wanted to live. If she tried to change, the steel web
would cut through her limbs.

Now that they had her, they would starve her until she either died or worked as their slave. She’d rather be dead. She’d known
the experience would be terrible, but she hadn’t expected to be left a quivering wreck. She could barely lift her head.

But Rion was still fighting. He was twisting and turning, breathing fire at any Unari who dared to peek out from behind a
column. She didn’t know how Rion could bear the Tyrannizer’s agony. But she had to help.

She could not let him die. Not the man she loved.

Damn it, she loved him. There was no more denial. He meant everything to her. Even if she couldn’t have him, even if she had
to step aside and let an Honorian woman have him, she loved him. Even if she had to return to Earth, she loved him.

Too weak for physical combat, Marisa closed her eyes. She forced herself to think about the many ways she loved him. He was
good and kind and brave. He was willing to give his life to save his people. He was the kind of man who inspired others to
follow. She remembered Rion’s kisses. How good his arms had felt around her. How much she wanted him to hold her. How she
longed for his embrace.

Without his touch to help her, she summoned up the glow. She could do this for him. If she could broadcast anger at the snappers,
she could broadcast her love for Rion and dull his pain.

She kept her eyes shut, refused to hear the Unari cries of fear or the dragon roars of fury. She reached down deep and thought
of Rion caressing her, stroking her. His hands on her breasts. She thought of how badly she longed for his body against hers,
inside hers. The wonderful ways he loved her.

She glanced at Rion once and shuddered—a mistake. The Unari had pinned him against a wall, whips striking him in constant
flashes of light that arced over his body. The whips alone would reduce any ordinary dragon to its knees, and combined with
the Tyrannizer’s pain, the agony had to be unbearable.

Rion still refused to humanshape. His eyes glowed golden fire, and he roared in agony, but he didn’t surrender.

She squeezed shut her eyes again, slipped her hand between her legs. And she thought of Rion’s caresses. His hot kisses.

Rion holding her at night.

Rion making love to her.

Marisa’s telepathy kicked in. Suddenly, all of her love and panic and adrenaline connected her mind to Rion’s.

She felt his pain, then his terrible agony.
Focus.

She recalled how his hands felt as they slid sensuously over her shoulders, her back, her buttocks. Ever so slowly, she enhanced
her feelings until she and Rion were linked both telepathically and emotionally. Bit by bit, she fed him her glowing passion
and squelched his pain.

Through his mind she could see the Unari had lowered another steel net, and it had caught one of his wings. With one massive
rear leg, he kicked out a column, then another, and the falling structures crushed five Unari.

The enemy leader, Cavus Prime, a large Unari male who wore shiny armor and a red sash across his chest, marched into the room
and commanded his men. His voice was calm, imperious, deadly. “Advance. Use your whips in unison.” He tilted his head back,
looking not to Rion but to the ceiling. “Bring down more steel nets.”

No.
She watched in horror as the nets fell, but then they tangled in the broken columns. Rion threw more flames and more men
died.

Infuriated at the loss of troops, Cavus, his weapon raised high, charged toward Rion. No man of honor, he tried to take advantage
of Rion’s weakness.

Marisa gasped in horror.
Do something.

Working on it,
Rion answered, trying to free himself from the netting.

With a savage slash, Cavus sliced the electronic whip across Rion’s shoulder, and at the same time he twisted the setting
from stun to lethal. One pull of the trigger would shoot heart-stopping pain directly into Rion’s nervous system.

Trapped in her own steel netting, Marisa could only watch in terror.
He’s going to kill you.

Not today.

Rion wrenched around, almost tearing his wing from his shoulder. Twisted sideways, he risked burning his own wing as he roared
fire at the Unari leader.

One moment the man was flesh and blood, the next there was nothing, not even the scent of burned flesh, just a tiny pile of
ashes.

Cavus Prime had been the last Unari in the room. His guards were all dead.

But more would be coming.

Marisa shuddered and finally wriggled out from under the steel net. Rion had won the battle, but she didn’t know how badly
he’d been injured. He’d used tremendous bursts of energy to dragonshape and breathe fire, energy he would need to recuperate,
but he couldn’t recharge until he ate more platinum.

Rion humanshaped and staggered toward her, his clothing reassembling. He was covered in cuts and bruises, bleeding in half
a dozen places, but the damage appeared superficial, and she breathed easier. Somehow they’d won round one, but there were
thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of Unari on Honor, and they would surely be coming after the rebels.

Even as Rion scooped up a Unari weapon, she realized they couldn’t keep fighting like this. He might have enough firepower
left to destroy a dozen Unari or so. She could defeat only a few herself. Then what?

“I don’t know how you took away my pain,” he said, “but thank you.”

Marisa started to fling herself into his arms, then remembered his injured shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He kicked aside the dead Unari. “So much for the armies of those who hold the Grail never dying in battle.” Rion grabbed her
wrist and hurried her toward an alcove—as if he knew exactly where he was going.

Head spinning, she stumbled over debris, looked away from the dead bodies.

Marisa called up her research material from the article she’d written so long ago. “According to Earth’s legends, the army
has to actually drink from the Grail and maintain possession of it to stay immortal.”

“Even better.” Rion squeezed her hand tighter. “The Unari fleet that’s bringing the Grail to Honor has not yet arrived.”

“Another flash?” she asked.

He nodded. “They’ll be here soon. We have to take back the planet today—or lose our opportunity forever.”

“You know where we are?”

“Chivalri Palace. My parents lived here, and as a child I visited often.”

They passed a fountain where antigravs made the water flow upward, and the eerie effect gave her the odd feeling that here
was yet another trap. It was so quiet she could hear her own breathing.

Adrenaline jangled through her. Where were the rest of the Unari?

At last, rebel reinforcements arrived. Erik, Lex, and dozens of rebels floated in over the balcony. Behind them, more floaters
filled the night sky. More rebels had joined them than she’d thought possible.

At least this part of the plan was working. The rebels would secure a perimeter here while she and Rion scouted ahead to search
for the Tyrannizer. Rion knew the palace layout, and no one else had her ability to stop the dragon pain. She just prayed
Rion had found a way for her to get out a message, too.

They’d come so far. She couldn’t fail him. Wouldn’t fail him.

Rion took her hand. If he could feel her trembling, he didn’t mention it. “Come on.”

The one who is worth your tears won’t make you cry.

—H
IGH
P
RIESTESS OF
A
VALON

W
e need to hide.” Cavus Prime and the Unari had appropriated his birthright, but now he looked for strategic advantages in
the hallways he’d played in so long ago as a child. “Erik and I used to play games much like your hide-and-seek in this corridor.”

Chivalri Palace was huge. As the largest structure in the capital, it spanned ten city blocks. If they had to fight their
way through dozens of hallways, they’d not only lose the element of surprise, but sooner or later the Unari might trap them.

The Unari had stripped the royal home of furniture handcrafted by masters, precious works of art that spanned centuries, chandeliers
and wall sconces of real gold. In fact, the giant formal greeting room was so bare it could have been used for battle practice.

“Which way?” Marisa asked, stopping at a juncture of two corridors.

Rion tugged her toward the right hallway. “In my flash the Unari kept the Tyrannizer in an octagon room.”

“Are there any secret palace tunnels?” Marisa asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing so useful.”

“Weapons stashes?”

“We were a peaceful people. Ever since our peace treaty with Tor several centuries ago, we haven’t required an army or weapons.
We were beyond violence—or so we thought.” The damage done here wasn’t just physical. His people’s belief system had been
torn apart. The Unari had destroyed everything.

Except their spirit.

His people lived on, enduring terrible pain and horrible slavery. Courageous rebels were risking their lives to fight back
against enormous odds.

Rion chose a hallway lined with closed doors that were once administrative offices. “We have to find the Tyrannizer and knock
it out.”

And he’d love to find his father. He didn’t dare say the words out loud. While he prayed his father still lived, he feared
he would be scarred and broken, perhaps insane, from the terrible torture.

“Rion, after you exited the floater and dragonshaped, were you in pain?” Marisa asked.

“Not at first—your powerful kiss on the way here lasted awhile.”

“But later the pain hit?” she pressed.

“Yes.” He was uncertain how she’d vanquished the pain the second time but was very grateful. “And then you made it go away
again.”

She avoided his gaze. “You do realize I still can’t send a message at the same time as I release my emotions?”

“First things first. Let’s find the Tyrannizer.” He needed to assess the situation in person. Finding the octagon room before
the Unari brought in reinforcements was critical.

They hurried down a long hallway lined with offices. “You’re certain the octagon room is in this palace?” she asked.

“I’m not certain. But the Unari invaded Chivalri first. Maybe they chose my country because we were the strongest, or maybe
they needed this geographical area because it’s large and relatively flat. The weather is good, and the continent is stable,
the bedrock deep, which will support those huge walls. Since they came here first and use this palace as their headquarters,
I’m betting Cavus Prime kept the center of his control, the Tyrannizer, close by in one of the octagon rooms. It’s even possible
the Unari will bring the Grail here, too.”

“We can’t let them keep it,” she said.

He nodded. “Even if we have to destroy it.”

They hurried through the hallway. He’d forgotten how long the passageways were. “There’re three octagon-shaped chambers in
Chivalri Palace.”

“Three?”

“All are temples to honor the Goddess. The largest one is down this way.”

“We can’t go near the Tyrannizer without—”

“Making love. I know.” As if he could forget. Kissing wouldn’t be enough. To banish the pain of everyone on the planet, Marisa
would have to be at full telepathic strength.

“S
WEET
G
ODDESS
.” Rion turned a corner and skidded to a stop. Two dragonshapers wearing spiked collars stood chained in front of double doors.
The slave collars had burned into their scales. Blood ran freely. Their eyes were crazed with pain.