Unleash the Storm (6 page)

She assessed her surroundings, slowly exhaling more bubbles. Nervously, she swam a little closer to the first fish. It darted away another couple feet. Blowing out more air to make her body less buoyant, she pushed down to the bottom and braced her feet against a large rock. Taking aim, she launched off the rock at the fish. Grabbing it halfway up the body, she sank her claws into its scales—but she had no idea how to kill a fish. Where was its jugular? Did it even
have
a jugular?

The fish thrashed violently, throwing her off it. She expected it to swim off at top speed, all her efforts wasted. Instead, it spun around—and charged her. She threw up an arm as it slammed into her, driving her down into the bottom. Sharp fish teeth scraped the scales that protected her forearm.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed in a burst of bubbles.

Heart pounding, she kicked the fish hard in its underbelly. It let her go. She pulled her feet back, planted them on the bottom, and launched upward with every bit of force she could muster. She shot toward the sparkling surface, and her senses screamed at her that the entire school of fish was rushing up after her, led by the one she’d scratched up. She would reach the surface at the same time they reached her—and then they would take some very large bites out of her mostly unprotected flesh.

As she closed in on the surface, a dark shadow from near the shore flashed toward the center of the pool. She crashed through the surface, sending water spraying everywhere, and flung her hands into the air. Ash grabbed them as he swooped over her, yanking her out of the water.

Right behind him, Zwi swooped down on huge dragon wings. As the school hit the surface in a thrashing, churning mosh pit of enraged seafood, the dragon snatched one giant fish in her jaws and another with her front talons. Ash banked back toward the shore with Piper hanging from his hands by her wrists. Her audience had multiplied—pretty much everyone was standing there, watching.

Raisa, Coby, and Ivria cheered as Ash set Piper down on the shore and landed beside her. Zwi flew over their heads and dropped her catch on the ground. The two fish looked even more massive out of the water. One was dead, its head crushed by Zwi’s jaws. The other flopped violently, throwing itself in every direction, gills pumping.

“You did it!” Raisa bounced up and down, clapping her hands together. “That was awesome!”

“First you were almost bird food,” Coby said with a smirk, “and now nearly fish food. You seem determined to feed the local wildlife.”

Piper threw her hands up. “They didn’t look that big from the surface. Is everything here so oversized?”

“No, you’re just extra lucky.” Coby rubbed her hands together. “I’m starved. Let’s get camp set up so we can start cooking.”

Laughing and talking, the draconians headed back to the unpacked gear, passing many thanks and congratulations to Piper as they went. She couldn’t help her embarrassed smile, standing beside Ash in her underclothes as she dripped water everywhere. As the others moved away, Lyre came to join them.

“Um,” he said, holding her clothes in his arms with a towel folded on top, “I, uh, owe you an apology. I had no idea those fish might be dangerous.”

“Really? I assumed it was all a devious plot to get rid of me. How could you not know that those were super murder-fish, just waiting to rip me apart?”

He snorted and held out the towel.

She grinned and accepted it. “Don’t worry about it, Lyre. We might need a different strategy for next time though.”

“We’ll come up with something.”

She quickly dried off and Lyre passed over her clothes.

“Where did everyone come from?” she asked as she pulled her garments on. “Did they all run over the moment I dove in?”

Lyre glanced at Ash before answering. “They had lots of time to wander over and see what was going on. You were underwater for over ten minutes.”

She froze halfway through shoving her right foot in her boot.

“Ten
minutes
? No way.” She looked at Ash in disbelief.

He nodded. “At least. We didn’t know what to do. You didn’t look distressed, but …”

“But we couldn’t believe how long you were down there,” Lyre finished, his eyes alight with admiration. “That was damn impressive.”

She stared at them. “Ten
minutes
?”

“Yup. Are you sure you aren’t hiding gills anywhere?”

“Very sure,” she said weakly. She hadn’t noticed the strain of holding her breath. It really hadn’t felt like she’d been underwater that long.

Shaking her head, she hastily finished putting on her boots, thinking it was too bad she’d had to leave the ryujin after only a few days. There was so much she didn’t know about her caste. Their ability to communicate with the ancient elemental power in their territory, their bonds with the silver water dragons, their capabilities underwater, their mysterious telepathy—she knew almost nothing about any of it.

She, Lyre, and Ash approached the two fish Zwi had plucked from the water. Back in dragonet form, Zwi sat on top of the dead one, head high and mane fluffed proudly as she supervised the second one. It had stopped struggling and lay on its side, gills still pumping. Piper stood beside it, feeling small. It was about five feet long with a jutting jaw full of sharp teeth. She absently rubbed the scales on her forearm as she stared at those teeth.

Lyre and Ash discussed how best to fillet the fish, neither sounding particularly confident in his skills. She lost track of the conversation, her eyes sliding toward the waterfall. Glancing back at the guys, she drifted away from them and returned to the edge of the pool. The shadows of the fish had returned to their spots at the bottom. Stepping into the shallowest edge of the water and hoping her boots didn’t get too wet, she crouched down until her
dairokkan
touched the water.

Her mind overflowed with sensations, but still no hint of a presence or power in the water. She ran her fingers through the ripples, watching the light shimmer across the scales on the back of her hand. Maybe there was a similar elemental power in this world that she just couldn’t sense. Her dominant bloodline was Overworld. Ash had talked before about how his Underworld magic didn’t mesh with the Overworld’s inherent magic, making his presence dangerously conspicuous in that world. Maybe her Overworld magic wasn’t compatible with the elemental power here.

When Natania had first told Piper about entering the Void to unlock her daemon blood, she’d explained that Piper’s form would depend entirely on her dominant bloodline. If her dominant line was Underworld, coming out of the Void into the Overworld wouldn’t have done anything. Even though she had Underworld blood, she would never be able to unlock it. When it came down to it, she was more half-ryujin than one-quarter Underworld, meaning she would probably never feel that sense of
home
here that she’d felt in the Overworld.

She stood and turned. Ash and Lyre were still standing by the fish but they were watching her, waiting silently. Her gaze slid over Ash’s three horns and the dark designs that swirled elegantly wherever scale transitioned to skin. As she understood it, all the ruling families had dominant bloodlines; otherwise, they would have had to inbreed to keep their lines pure. Ash had inherited most of his genes from his father. Even though he and Seiya were born from the same mother, in reality, Ash was barely related to his half-sister.

“What’s that look for?”

Ash’s voice broke through her thoughts. She realized she’d been staring at him as though she could x-ray him with her eyes. She quickly shook her head and started toward where the other draconians were setting up the tents.

“Come on, Piper,” Lyre complained, hurrying to catch up with her, Ash trailing after him. “That was the weirdest look. What were you thinking?”

She shook her head again. Nope. She wouldn’t tell Ash that she’d been thinking about how he wasn’t related to the rest of the draconians, who were like one big family. She wasn’t that cruel.

“I don’t think she’s going to tell us,” Lyre commented to Ash.

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“Hey, I think she’s blushing. Maybe we don’t actually want to know.”

“Probably not.”

“Would you two shut up?” she grumbled, quickening her stride. Of course she was blushing; it was a natural reaction to being scrutinized, but now they probably thought her mind had been in the gutter.

Lyre chuckled. She glanced back at the two guys walking side by side, Lyre grinning mischievously while Ash outwardly appeared serious but with that quiet spark of amusement in his eyes. Her heart swelled with emotion. She stopped and the two daemons halted, Lyre opening his mouth to speak. She walked up to them and threw an arm around each of their necks, pulling them forcibly into a hug.

“Piper, what—” Lyre spluttered.

“Nothing,” she said, releasing them after a firm, heartfelt squeeze. “Let’s go help with the set up.”

Ash and Lyre blinked at her. Looked at each other. Looked back at her.

She smiled at them and walked away again. Behind her, she heard Lyre’s exasperated mutter.

“We incubi might claim to understand them,” he grumbled to Ash, “but no male can actually comprehend how a woman’s mind works.”

“It’s safer to not even try.”

Piper snorted and hurried to join the draconian women, leaving the guys to their philosophizing.

S
atisfaction added
a little extra flavor to her dinner. Piper popped another bite of fried fish into her mouth, relishing the taste after so many weeks of dried rations and bland soups. Hunting dinner herself really added to the experience of eating it, especially since her dinner had tried to take a bite of her first.

She sat on a log with Ash on one side and Lyre on the other, both holding empty bowls, meals devoured. The rest of the group sat around the fire on logs they’d dragged out of the forest. Nestled against the steep, rocky cliff beside the waterfall, their tents waited for them. After some sleep, they would start constructing a wooden shelter. Periskios was waning again, meaning the long night was half over, but many hours of darkness still awaited them.

Piper’s gaze idly wandered from face to face as she finished her meal. Coby, Ivria, and Shona chatted cheerfully. Denna coaxed Yana and Netia, the two youngest children, to eat the unfamiliar fish while Mahala contemplated the fire. Seiya talked quietly with Raum, Kiev sitting nearby, listening. Sivan, Jezel, and Raisa played some kind of dice game in the light of the fire.

She hoped the draconians’ journey was almost over. Even this little valley would make a lovely home, assuming it could support them, while Raum and Ash kept searching for an ideal location. And maybe, just maybe, they would find another tribe of draconians living in these mountains. How wonderful would it be for them to join another group of their own caste and reconnect with their people and culture?

Beside her, Ash stared tiredly into the fire, his head bobbing occasionally as he nodded off only to catch himself. She would have badgered him to just go to one of the tents and sleep but she knew his pride wouldn’t allow him to retire first. He would wait until, at the very least, the children were sent to their beds.

On her other side, Lyre hunched over a small green gem, turning it slowly in his hands. Little sparks of magic danced around his fingers as he worked on whatever spell he was weaving. He spent most of their downtime working on spells. She suspected it was a usual pastime of his that he’d kept hidden from her before now.

She watched him spin the stone again and asked softly, “What are you making?”

He glanced up and flashed her a smile. “Nothing interesting.”

She gave him a hard look. “I doubt that. Why the secrecy?”

He pursed his lips and looked at the gem. “Not secrecy. Just …”

“Just what?”

“Well, I should probably be making defensive spells or something useful, which this isn’t. It’s just a bit of illusion magic that I was making as a trinket for … Seiya.”

Piper’s eyebrows rose and Ash’s head came up, turning toward Lyre.

He gave a little shrug. “Her spirits have been kind of low lately with how long it’s taking her wing to heal. I thought it might cheer her up.”

“That’s sweet,” Piper said hesitantly, not entirely sure how to respond. Wasn’t a custom-spelled gift kind of … romantic? “What’s the illusion of?”

“I’ll show you if I can actually get it to work.”

Ash leaned around her to give Lyre a hard look. “It’s not your fault.”

Piper blinked, confused. Lyre’s eyes dropped from Ash to the gem in his hands, his mouth twisting.

“You got her out of there,” Ash continued. “Don’t beat yourself up about her injuries. You stayed behind so she could escape. Neither she nor I could have asked for more.”

Lyre sighed, the sound full of regret. Sympathy welled in Piper. So that was it. His spell wasn’t a romantic gesture, but an apology that he hadn’t prevented the debilitating injury to Seiya’s wing in their escape from the Ra embassy.

“Yeah!” Raisa exclaimed, her voice cutting through all the quiet conversations. “I rolled a dragon king! You
lose
.”

Jezel irritably threw her dice down, scowling.

“A dragon king?” Piper repeated.

Coby glanced at her as she stretched her legs out. “Triple nines, the highest roll. Automatic win. It’s the same dice game most kids play, but we came up with more draconian names for different rolls.”

“I’ve never rolled a dragon king before,” Raisa gushed while Jezel rolled her eyes. “So cool!”

“You wouldn’t be so excited if the roll summoned the actual dragon king,” Shona teased her.

Raisa’s eyes widened. “Yes I would! That would be the coolest thing ever.”

“It’s just a myth,” Jezel said flatly.

Scowling, Raisa tossed her dice on the ground in front of Jezel. “I think it’s true. You can’t prove he doesn’t exist.”

“And you can’t prove he does,” the older girl snapped. “It’s just a stupid legend.”

“What is the dragon king?” Lyre cut in before the girls could get into an argument.

“Well,” Coby said, “it depends which story you’re talking about.
The
dragon king is supposedly the all-powerful, magical dragon who created the draconian people. In other stories, it’s another name for the great dragons—the
really
big ones.”

“Really big dragons?” Piper asked curiously.

“Yes, we have many stories of them,” Coby said. “Whether the great dragons are actually real or just a myth is up for debate.”

“Oh, tell her the story of the dragon king!” Raisa said. “I bet she hasn’t heard it.”

“It’s a draconian story.” Jezel jerked her chin toward Piper. “
She’s
not a draconian.”

“It’s just a story,” Coby said firmly.

“But—”

Shona clapped her hands once, silencing all talk. Even Raum looked over. Yana wobbled over to Ivria, her mother, and climbed into her lap, clutching her stuffed dragonet toy. Shona straightened, her serene aura of authority claiming everyone’s attention.

“At the beginning of time,” she began, her words taking on a slow, melodic rhythm, “the worlds were ruled by two great dragons. The black dragon was the Lord of Skies, and his sister, the silver dragon, was the Lady of Seas. They danced through the endless skies and waters of all the worlds, enamored with the beauty of each land. When one world tired them, they would dive through the fabric of the universe itself to a new world to explore, leaving trails of their magic across the lands.”

“She means the ley lines,” Raisa whispered to Piper, apparently concerned she wouldn’t make the connection herself.

“As the worlds spun and the universe aged,” Shona continued solemnly, “the great dragons tired of their explorations. They’d left so much magic behind upon the worlds they’d visited, and they were weary. One day, the Lord of Skies bid his dear sister a final farewell. He returned to his favorite world, a land where tiny dragon cousins had once soared through the clouds with him. There, he chose the majestic mountains for his resting place.

“He lay upon the earth and closed his eyes for the longest slumber—a sleep he did not expect to wake from. But as he prepared for his slumber, he felt the magic still flowing through him and thought of the great waste of allowing it to fade with him. So in a final act, he called the tiny dragons to him and invited the boldest and bravest to step forward. Those few he imbued with his power. The dragonets evolved in the forges of the king’s power into draconians.

“Each newly born draconian bore a flame of the king’s black fire within him, and the king bid the draconians to share their gifts with their dragonet brothers and sisters. To the strongest of the new draconians, the one who contained the greatest flame and greatest power, the king said, ‘You who bear the heart flame of my magic, I call on you to protect and nurture the fires of your kin. Be their shield, their
taroth
, and protect them until the day I awaken once again.’ And then the king’s eyes closed and he slept the silent slumber of the deepest night.

“The draconian who bore the king’s heart flame then took Taroth as his name, so never would he or his descendants forget that they were the shields of their people, the guardians of draconians and dragonets. He led them from the king’s sleeping place and out into the world where they too soared through the clouds, their chosen dragonet companions beside them, with whom they could share their flame and imbue the dragonets with a touch of the dragon king’s spirit.”

“And his size,” Raisa explained to Piper in a whisper, “so they can get bigger.”

Shona cleared her throat. “And the draconians flew through the skies of their world, each generation led by, and protected by, a Taroth who carried the king’s heart flame within him. Some say the king slipped into the deep, forever sleep of death. Others say he slumbers beneath the earth even now, recovering his strength and spirit until the distant future dawn when he will call the Taroth back to him and reclaim his heart flame so he may once again soar across the skies of a thousand worlds with his silver sister of the seas.”

Her final words rang through the clearing. The quiet night pressed down on the group as they all contemplated the story, their thoughts private and unspoken.

“Ash?”

The small, sweet voice barely penetrated the silence. Piper looked around in bewilderment, having no clue whom the voice belonged to. Everyone was staring at Netia, the second youngest girl, sitting beside Denna with her hands clasped in her lap as she looked intently at Ash.

“Yes, Netia?” he replied bemusedly.

Netia’s gaze became even more intent. “Why haven’t you had a baby?”

Piper’s mouth fell open. Coby choked on a stifled snort.

“A baby?” Ash repeated, sounding remarkably composed.

“You need to have a baby,” Netia said seriously. “Like Raum had Yana. You need to have a Taroth baby. If you die, the dragon king can’t get his heart flame back when he wakes up.”

“The dragon king’s heart flame is very precious,” Ash responded gravely. “I will protect it carefully until I can give it to the next Taroth.”

“Don’t die first.”

“I will do my best.”

The little girl gave a satisfied nod and leaned her head on Denna’s arm. Denna patted the child’s head, her face contorted with the effort not to laugh.

Coby let out a loud exhale as though expelling all the laughter she’d suppressed. “Nice retelling, Shona. Though the bit about the ley lines always makes me snort. Our legends are rather pretentious, aren’t they?”

“Just a bit,” the older woman replied with a smile. “That’s my favorite version. I’m less fond of the versions where the dragon king will eventually awaken and take all his magic back from all draconians, destroying us, or the one where he rises again to rule us as our immortal god.”

“Or everyone’s least favorite,” Coby said, “the one where the draconians actually stole the dragon king’s magic and on the darkest nights of each year, he hunts the skies for draconians from whom he can rip the magic out.”

“I like Shona’s version the best too,” Piper said dryly.

Raisa got up, leaving Jezel and Sivan to play dice, and sat beside the older women. “Shona, you should tell the story of Diza the Dragonet.”

Shona smiled and began a story about a mischievous dragonet who got lost in a dangerous forest. As Piper listened to the tale with a smile, Ash rose, slipping away from the firelight. She looked over as he headed away from the camp. Giving Lyre a questioning look, she got up and followed him into the surrounding trees.

She trotted a few steps to catch up before he vanished into the darkness.

“Hey,” she murmured. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice equally quiet. “Just needed some space.”

“Oh.” Her steps slowed. “Do you want me to leave?”

He reached back and grabbed her hand, pulling her after him. Her heart fluttered a little. She matched his stride as they wandered into the trees. She let the silence envelop them, content to keep him company.

The forest was quiet, the leafy ground absorbing their footsteps. The trees had narrow trunks and rose high above their heads before sprouting narrow canopies of red leaves, the scarlet washed out by the silvery light reflecting off Periskios. Pale light spotted the forest floor, illuminating dangling strands of white vines that hung from the branches of the trees overhead. Since Ash hadn’t warned her about anything, she assumed none of the plant life here would try to eat her, unlike in the Overworld.

She watched him out of the corner of her eyes as they meandered among the trees, their hands entwined. Netia’s question repeated in her head. The others had found it hilarious—mostly because it was so inappropriate—but Ash hadn’t looked amused. Piper wasn’t sure if he’d just been humoring the child, but she didn’t think it was funny either.

A dominant daemon bloodline like the Taroths’ would pass from father to son with minimal dilution, but she hadn’t thought about what that meant for the bloodline’s continuation. Maybe she’d subconsciously blocked out thoughts about it. If Ash was the last Taroth, the only way the line could continue was if he fathered children. Even as the very last Taroth, he could singlehandedly restore his family’s line—one of the reasons he was so dangerous to Hades.

If Ash didn’t reproduce, the family line and name would die with him. The responsibility for continuing the bloodline of the draconians’ ruling family rested solely on his shoulders. And if he were going to produce a Taroth offspring, it would be with a draconian woman.

Painful jealousy stabbed her but she shoved it down. One day at a time with him—that’s what she’d decided. She’d take whatever time with him she could get, and if someday he had to leave her to go make Taroth babies, then so be it.

“What did you think of the story?” Ash asked abruptly, his deep voice rumbling through her bones like part of the night. “About the dragon king?”

Unsure what kind of answer he was looking for, she said, “It’s quite the tale. Most cultures have a myth or two about their origins or their creator. What I found most surprising was the apparent reference to the Overworld water dragons.”

He stopped. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“The silver dragon, Lady of Seas,” she mused. “In a way, the water dragons are to the ryujin what the dragonets are to the draconians, though I don’t know what kind of bond the ryujin have with their dragons. It’s pretty crazy that a draconian legend would mention them though, huh?”