FWNNYOQWRB DragonsHorn_ Kincaid. 9/21/2003

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Be you mated with a dragon?

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By the Gods, I’ve got to keep my wits. She looked over at Pretog, pointedly glaring at his hand until he withdrew from her. Keep your hands to yourself, brother dear.

He glared back then he looked as confused as ever. Brother? Be you sister?

Well, this was the oddest reunion in the history of mortals-even immortals.

You have it, Woodsman. Now let us go. You need to meet my other half. She led the way to the hole and pointed to it. Now we go down. I’ll go first.

She folded her arms against herself and jumped. Beneath her, Rynak grunted. He’d folded his wings and sat beneath the hole to cushion her fall. For a moment she was glad. Then she slipped down his back and ran in to his three-pronged tail.

Ouch! she yelled as a pointy arrow cut into her leg. Next time, Rynak, be kind enough to raise your tail.

Next time, bring your friend or relative home first, he said.

Oh, for mercy’s sake! Are you jealous? Of what? Do you believe my heart would turn that easily?

You’ve spoken nothing of your heart, he answered sourly. He is of mortal form. You seem

pleasured by his appearance.

He’s my brother, she yelled. You could be jealous of my brother?

Mighty Antzen! Pretog’s voice entered the fray. Be you mated with a dragon?

No. I’m mated with a fool, Xlana argued. But I wouldn’t stand there smiling so big, brother dear. Wait until you get a look at your mate. Perchance there’s a pretty young dragon out there for you, too.

Pretog hung his head to one side and stared at her with full curiosity. Then he laughed. Better I be wed to a tree.

Watch your wishes, Woodsman. She may look like a tree. The nice thing would be if she were as silent as a tree, Rynak said with a glare in Xlana’s direction.

Pretog looked at both of them and shook his head. A dragon. A sister. The war starts and I fight beside a dragon and a woman.

That’s not all, Xlana warned, crossing her arms. You fight beside three dragons and perchance two women. There will be six of us against an unknown number. We do not know if our enemies are mortal, elf, beast, or the Demon himself.

THE DRAGON’S HORN

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by

Glynnis Kincaid

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NBI

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NovelBooks, Inc.

Douglas, Massachusetts

This is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the characters, incidents, and dialogs are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright Š 2001 by Glynnis Kincaid

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and review. For information, address NovelBooks, Inc., P.O. Box 661, Douglas, MA 01516 or email publisher@novelbooksinc.com

NBI

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Published by

NovelBooks, Inc.

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P.O. Box 661

Douglas, MA 01516

NovelBooks Inc. publishes books online and through print-on-demand.

For more information, check our website:www.novelbooksinc.com or email publisher@novelbooksinc.com

Produced in the United States of America.

Cover illustration by Ariana Overton and Linnea Sinclair

Edited by Julia Charpentier

ISBN 1-931696-14-4 for electronic version

ISBN 1-931696-85-3 for POD version

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DEDICATION

From Ellen Edgar: >

To my husband George, whose pride in my work is my inspiration. To Margie, who will never let me quit. And to Savannah, who hatched the incomparable Dragons.

From Savannah Michaels:>

My special thanks go to Roger (my real life hero),

our parents and our children, and those we’ve had the pleasure to be friends with over the years.

My personal dedication for this book goes to Glynnis Kincaid,

for the extreme pleasure of holding up the banners we held dear:

friendship first, and commitment to making this the best book we could write. To us, Ellen! I look forward to working with you on many sequels!

CHAPTER ONE

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Early morning broke through the mist with a whisper as a new day began. Compared to the sweet, calming wisp in the breeze, however, the male voice that rang through Xlana’s mind might as well have been the bell from the village tower.

Arise. Come to me.

Rynak! For ten such mornings Xlana had risen from her bed, wrapped her scanty shawl about her shoulders, and run the mile between her father’s cabin and the shoreline. Today was no different. Barefoot, she dodged jagged tree limbs that had lost their fight for life and littered the floor of Vrlanz Woods. She dashed past the dawn bluebells, dismissing the urge to pet one or two and inhale their heady fragrance.

I need you, the voice echoed in her head.

Xlana’s feet raced with the drumbeat of her heart. Would he be there today? It had been months since she had seen him, forever since she’d touched his sturdy wings and stroked the tawny gold horn atop his bird-like head. Where had he been all this time?

In the beginning, she’d thought of Rynak as her beloved pet, even if he was a dragon and considered the most fearful creature to roam the earth. Over the past year, and with each visit, she had become more enthralled, until the thought of losing him was unbearable.

The first time she had seen Rynak, he had been as helpless as one of Mae’s newborn lion cubs. Their communication was stilted. He’d spoken a language different from her own. Torn and bleeding, he had groaned and thrashed about pitifully, and she’d been horrified when she saw the extent of his wounds. She mended his broken wing by applying tree sap and branches to the leathery surface. The spear entrenched in his chest was a different matter. Pulling the damnably heavy wood out of him was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She still didn’t understand why he’d been so adamant about burning the spear to ashes and removing all evidence of his purple blood. She’d mended the tear in his scaly teal flesh and broken several needles in the process. Then she had applied some of her father’s poultices. Somehow, she managed to help him to an empty cave she’d discovered during one of her earlier days of exploration. But one day when she went to visit him, he was gone. Had he been found? Or had he felt so little for her that he’d chosen to leave without a word?

It no longer mattered. He was back. With every step she took closer to the shore, she became more certain he was waiting. Her heart pounded. What if he was injured? What if whoever had hunted him the first time was after him again? The mist wafting through the trees began to clear, allowing her to see past the tall stone statues lining her way.

Rynak! Her beloved dragon stood before her. He looked whole and well and just seeing him made her dizzy.

You have come! It was impossible to ignore the joy in his voice.

The impish grin on his pointed face made her feel as if dozens of butterflies had taken flight in her stomach. Of course I did, you silly goose. It has been too long, my friend.

He had grown. Where last he had been twice her size, he was now like a mighty antzen tree towering over an acorn. He stood taller than the trees of the forest, taller than the wooden tower the villagers had built atop the mountainside overlooking the valley and the sea.

Slump down, she cried. Someone will see you!

You worry, my love. I do not. I have learned much since we parted.

Yet you need me again, she reminded him. What is it this time? A broken talon on those pointed feet of yours? She surveyed his appearance, stifling a smile while he preened under her gaze. You’ve changed, beloved. Your claws are as purple as the fruit of the yatke bush. And your flesh

She paused as she caressed the soft peacock-blue scales covering his chest. It is as beautiful as the sea at moon tide. I believe I can see the twinkle of the night stars in those devilish eyes of yours.

You have changed, too. He stared at her breasts. There is…more of you.

Xlana swatted him playfully. Trust a male to point that out. You could have said my hair was a stone longer or the wisdom of a fully matured mortal lies in my eyes.

That too. He laughed, a sound more like thunder than levity. I come with a gift. ‘Tis a thing only you may know about. He bent his pointed head to meet her stature. She stepped back, lest his spiral horn spear her in her middle. Take hold of my horn, he said.

Xlana did as he instructed. She gasped as she heard it break and the twisted golden cone fell from his crown. He grunted. Shocked, she nearly dropped it at his clawed feet.

No! It cannot be, she said. I cannot hurt you as others have!

You have not hurt me, sweet. It was time. I felt it. ‘Twas if my mother stood beside me and whispered in my ear.

She lifted his precious gift up to the sunlight, amazed that it seemed to outshine the sun. The glow comes from within, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Images raced past her eyes like leaves in a heavy wind, each picture moving too quickly for her to grasp its significance. A pointed sphere of light…a man with his forehead spotted like her own…Rynak playing in the clouds…. What does this mean?

I do not know, he replied.

She felt a stronger nudge at the edge of her consciousness. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Something important. Xlana felt a niggling premonition that her life was changed forever. Her destiny would always be entwined with this dragon. What an odd thought! I don’t believe you. I think you know exactly what it means, but you choose not to share.

Believe what you will. A smile eased the crisp lines of his bird-like beak.

She wondered what he felt when he looked at her. Did his heart soar as hers did when she saw him? Unable to stop herself, she allowed her gaze to wander over him as her fingers gently stroked the golden ember in her hands. A tinge of teal still remained in her creature’s feathery arched brow.

He had changed in more ways than physical, Xlana observed. She no longer heard the desperate longing of a child in his deep booming voice; in its place was a confidence that rang through every bass roar. She was surprised no one had ever interrupted their time together. A voice as loud as his should have drawn the attention of the whole village, but it was as if no one heard him but her. ‘Twas another mystery she’d been unable to solve about him.

His toes twitched as if he was uncomfortable with her scrutiny. I have heard my mother’s voice many times now in the wind, he said. She calls to me, instructs me when and where to hide. It is the most miraculous thing, Xlana. I can vanish within the waves! I can fly in the great blue sky and dive deep in the seas, not to be seen until I deem it so.

How can this be? A stone cannot change to liquid any more than a beast of the air can become a fish.

It happens, he replied. I don’t know why. But I knew it was time to shed this horn of my youth as surely as I know I will grow another, and another after that.

You are like the elderbeast in the woods? You grow limbs above your head for the season, only to beat them off in battle and grow more the next season?

She shuddered. The elderbeast was frightening when it was in the process of shedding its wooden-like limbs. Males were brutal in their attacks and in the claiming of their chosen mates for the season. Would Rynak now suffer the obsession to mate? Would she lose him to another of his own kind? She looked away before he could see her pain. This would probably be the last time she would see him. She glanced at the horn held safely in her grasp. He was leaving her with a part of himself as he said goodbye, she reminded herself, and pushed the pain aside.

He frowned. I suppose I am like this…elderbeast as you call it. But how long is a season for me? I have not heard mother speak of this.

I have heard a story, she murmured, from travelers passing through the village. It is said there are others like you. Hunters seek the gold of your horns, killing those of your kind for an offering to the Demon of Fire. The very thought of the Demon of Fire caused her to tremble with fear. She caressed the twisted cone as she had recently stroked his scaly skin, wishing she had the ability to keep him safe and whole. They say there are few dragons left in the world.

I am the last, he said. Pain reflected in his glittering, pale eyes, and she watched as he tried to conceal it behind his long lashes. Mother says I have a purpose and it is the reason I can hide where others before me could not. She says I am linked with a Chosen One. Someone of the heavens, a maiden whose heart is as pure as the royal blood she carries within her veins. I believe she spoke of you, Xlana.

She laughed. It cannot be me, Rynak. You are dragon. I am mortal, the daughter of a sorcerer. I repel most men and those I do not repel pursue me. I must use my wits to save my virtue. Only my father’s power has kept me from harm to this day. I am told he has put a protective spell on me, she whispered conspiratorially. Any man who touches me will turn to stone. She laughed again and heard the hollow bitterness in the sound. Would that Karn would touch me. He has made his claim on me at the village square, but I refuse to marry such an oaf. I should like to see him turn a bitter gray. I would toss his remains in the sea and you could step on him.

Or you could toss him in the air and I could bite him in two. Rynak growled, a fierce noise reminding her of the wild hogs that roamed the village at night.

He sounded…jealous. Did her friendship mean as much to him as it did to her? Somehow the thought made her feel better, but och, there was always Karn. Aye. It is better to die a maiden than to think of Karn’s hands—

Be calm, my love. I am sworn to protect you. My horn will call to me when you are in need.

Best I give this back then! She looked down at his gift, but could not bring her fingers and hands to return it. She focused again on his face. Call to you when you are the hunted? she scoffed. The very idea! ‘Twould be better for me to shoot you with my own bow than to see you suffer at the hands of a warrior.

His darkened glare was proof enough he did not agree. Yet he remained silent. He was so certain…so passionate. Once again she was struck with the feeling that they were linked as one. Xlana shook her head. Surely she was mistaken. What did she know of passion? She was doomed to a life without physical love. Her father had told her as much. She was to live and die with her honor and virtue intact and perform the task assigned by the Gods. It wasn’t much to ask, she supposed, but it would be a much easier burden if she knew what her mission was.

I will keep the horn, Rynak. It will be safe with me. But mark my words; I will never use it to call to you for help. Her thoughts wandered for a moment. I think…yes, I’m certain-music is the answer. Whatever music it might make, I will send it forth in the wind as a reminder of our friendship. Perchance some night you might hear it in the waves of the sea or as a gentle whisper in the breeze.

Then so be it, he said solemnly. The choice is yours.

His heavy lashes drooped, leaving her unable to see his thoughts in his eyes. She had a feeling he did not accept her choice, nor did he believe her. It was there, lingering between them like the frail mist that clung to the water of the loch in the morning and evening hours. A chill ran down her spine. Another premonition?

She turned and looked toward the woods, unable to ignore the thought of mounting danger-for them both. Perchance her worries came from her talk of Karn. Be it either, she knew better than to ignore the niggling fear she felt. Still, she could not stop herself from turning back to him, yielding to the familiar hunger to memorize every inch of him. I must go. The villagers will be rising soon. My father will awaken and wonder where I am.

He looked as forlorn as she felt. Play for me soon, Xlana. I shall miss your company.

She would miss him more. I will, sweet Rynak. Now you must hide. Surely you are weakened after giving me this wondrous gift?

He nodded, hesitated for a heartbeat, and with a flick of his long three-pronged tail he was gone. But where? How? Xlana glanced backward several times as she walked toward the woods. She hoped for another glimpse to strengthen her through the seasons, but there was nothing. He was gone. Her friend and confidant was probably a vapor in the clouds or a teardrop in the sea. ‘Twould be nice to disappear like that, she thought as she skillfully made her way home to her father. The twisted path she’d created to the shore would soon be hidden, just as it was hidden before she’d uncovered it in her first meeting with Rynak.

The pockets of her night skirt reached nearly to her knees. Pulling the light material up, she felt deep within one pocket and touched the golden horn. Her spirits lifted. She would never see her dear friend again, but he had left her with a precious gift. She held it tightly and broke through the leafy barrier with a smile, emerging from the woods at the edge of the village. Yes, she would definitely play for him. And for herself. Her music would keep their friendship strong through the years. Her nimble fingers played over the horn’s glossy surface. In her mind, she could picture the places where there should be holes, each one to create a different sound. Aye, she would make beautiful music for him.

*

Where have you been, child? Czerick demanded.

Xlana heard the scorn in her father’s voice as it boomed from their makeshift kitchen. Had she been gone that long? She’d hoped to be back before he awakened.

I…I needed to be alone, she murmured. She turned to her side, praying he would not see the lie in her eyes or the horn in her pocket.

It is not safe for you to be alone. His aged voice was sharp with disapproval. Have you not learned that?

Aye, father. I have learned to be careful.

As you wander the woods to the shore in your night skirts?

She gasped. He knew she went to the shore? How, when he had yet to look at her? She glanced down at her feet, searching for signs of the sticky sand. There was none. Nor was the bottom of her night skirt wet. How could he know? She studied him in wonderment, his whitened hair glistening in the early morning light as he loomed over his latest potion. Wooden bowls surrounded him on the wooden table like dutiful slaves awaiting his command, each containing a different herb or organic material. The misshapen knuckles of his fingers fascinated her as he plucked leaves of this, a sprinkle of that, and added it to his mixture. Many a night, she’d massaged his tired and worn hands after he’d treated a villager for one ailment or another.

Need I remind you Karn has made his claim on you in the village square? he asked after a lengthy pause.

She frowned, but refused to allow other signs of her concerns to show. Her father did not need more worries than he already had. Karn is a blowfish, she said. He called me his woman a fortnight ago, yet his hands remain distant. I have not answered his claim, nor have I placed flowers and our family’s symbol at the well in acceptance. He fears your curse and for that, dear father, I am grateful. Perhaps he fears you will turn him to a stone pillar just as you changed Master Ranford to a wild boar for a day. She stifled a grin as she thought of her father’s revenge on the misbegotten son of a goat. Master Ranford had beaten his wife nearly to death and once her father had tended to the woman’s wounds, he’d been hell-bent on teaching her husband a lesson he would not forget.

Czerick tsked. My spell will work only if you do not provide opportunity for it to fail. If you persist in acting foolishly, you will suffer the results.

Xlana noticed for the first time that his fingers shook. He coughed, a sick hacking sound, and she rushed to his side. Papa? Are you ill?

He glanced at her, wisdom and love shining in his bright forest green eyes. Not ill, child. Merely old. His gaze wandered over her from forehead to feet. You have grown lovely, daughter. The Gods have been gracious to provide me with such a vision in my elder years.

Duck fodder, she scoffed. Who needs beauty if one is to live in solitude and wait for word of a task from the Gods? Will it make my journey easier, my duties any less? I would gladly part with this mane of midnight black to live a normal life. I hate this ample bosom that leaves men such as Karn drooling like dogs. I would happily exchange my awkward purple eyes for the magnificent green color of yours. They appear sprinkled with gold dust.

He sighed and Xlana heard the rattle rising from within his chest. Ahh, dust. It is what I shall be in the days to come.

Never! The passion in her soul rose as quickly as her pride. You are a sorcerer, the best in the land. It is improbable that one such as you could ever become ash or dirt. ‘Tis more likely you will filter through the clouds and become one of the stars in the night sky. The brightest of all.

She laughed as he nodded, apparently accepting her foolish chatter as fact. The image of a pointed sphere of light dashed through her thoughts before she could seize it. Of course he would pass on to the next life. All men died, even sorcerers. She could not bear to think of the time when he would join the rest of the elders, leaving her alone in the world.

Papa? She hesitated, wondering if Rynak’s warning that she be the only person to know of his horn applied to her father. Surely if Rynak knew the powers her papa held….

Yes, child. The old man’s gaze narrowed on her. You may tell me of the dragon.

Her breath caught and she steadied herself, placing her hand on the sideboard. Her knees wobbled beneath her night skirt. First he’d known of her trip to the loch, now he spoke of Rynak? How much more did he know? A boulder seemed lodged in her throat and she frowned as her question came out like the uttering of a bullfrog. You knew?

It was a mere act of deduction. He shrugged as if her question held no importance. I was with you when the traveler spoke of the dragons, close enough to feel you shudder with fear. You disappear in the early morning mist to return late with twigs in your skirts and leaves in your hair. You have the gift, I presume?

The gift? Was he referring to the golden horn in her pocket or the ability to speak with Rynak through her mind?>

Show me the horn, child. I have waited my entire life to see it.

Obediently, she retrieved Rynak’s horn and gave it to him. I thought to make it an instrument, to play soothing music that would please him.

Him? Ahhh… a male dragon! Czerick’s green eyes deepened to the rich color of a forest leaf after a healthy rain, and the sprinkles of gold within appeared to dance with pleasure. So the ancient stories are true.

What stories? Had the ancient ones known she would be fool enough to fall in love with a dragon rather than a mortal male who could satisfy her lust for children? Her knees shook again as her thoughts raged. Was it true? Was she in love with Rynak?

The limp in Czerick’s step seemed to disappear as a golden glow radiated from the horn and encompassed him like a halo. He walked for the first time without the use of his walking stick. His gray brows rose with questions unspoken, yet she had the feeling he already knew the answers.

This is a glorious gift, Xlana. She noticed the hitch in his voice and watched as he stroked the golden spiral with a lover’s hand, caressing every smooth curve as he examined it.

Rynak, should I have shown it to him? Have I deceived you?

Things are as they should be, came Rynak’s reply. The old man will tell you what we need to know.

He speaks to you, Czerick observed, looking up at her. This is good.

She opened her mouth and closed it without uttering a sound. He could read her mind? Fear filled her as she wondered what else he might learn without her permission.

He paused and gazed at the horn. So the Gods have told you to make this an instrument of music, have they? Have you seen where to place the holes?

The Gods told her? But…it had been her idea…hadn’t it? Yes, Papa.

She took the horn from his hands and placed her fingers where she intended to make music holes. When she looked at her father again, he appeared every bit of his one hundred fifteen seasons and the glow had disappeared from around him. He had seemed so much younger moments before. Did Rynak’s gift hold mysterious powers? Perchance the Gods were at work here. Her skin tingled with a new awareness-had the time come for her to learn of her task?

Perfect, child. The tunes you play shall fill the world with pleasure. He staggered where he stood, then straightened with a hand on the table.

Papa? Are you certain you’re not ill?

He smiled, his paper-thin lips revealing the darkened veins beneath. Everything is as it should be, Xlana. He glanced about the room as if searching it for readiness. He extended his hand to reach for the horn and she gave it to him, certain of its safety with her father. Come. We have much to do if I am to prepare you for your task.

But I already know your healing ways, she said.

Child’s play. The mysteries of the universe shone within his eyes as they twinkled brighter than the shimmering sand of the shore under the full moons. There is so much more.

She had waited for this day, this moment in time when he would reveal the myriad secrets she knew he held locked inside his mind. Once again she was amazed as his strength appeared renewed, his gaze sharper and clearer than she’d ever seen. Rynak’s golden gift had to be the reason. She sat at the table as her father gathered grains to break their morning fast and she listened intently. Even his voice sounded lighter and healthier.

Many years ago there was a proud sorcerer, dashing enough to catch the eyes of many a maiden. He winked and his smile turned to an impish, youthful grin. This sorcerer knew the wonders of the earth, the treasures of the heavens. He had seen the wisdom and power of The Supreme One together with the Gods, as they handled the growing problem with the God of Fire. He waved a hand as if to dismiss his words. Och, you’ve heard this before. ‘Tis the story of how the God of Fire was stripped of his powers and cast from the heavens in exile to become the Demon of Fire. ‘Tis why he pays the hunters well for horns such as your dragon’s. What you have not heard is that the Demon grows stronger with every horn he collects. A challenge comes soon, one that can be fought only with magic and virtue. The Supreme One foresaw it and long ago, he gathered together the Gods and the Dragons of Talgari to form a plan. Six families bonded: three from the Dragons of Talgari and three from the immortals, each with a lineage direct from the Gods of Heaven, Earth, and Water themselves.

Xlana’s thoughts stopped with his words of dragons. Rynak, she whispered. He is one of the Chosen Ones.

Czerick’s eyes narrowed on her and she felt his probing invasion of her mind. What do you know of the Chosen Ones?

Her voice faltered at the sound of his harsh demand. Rynak spoke of them.

I must know all he said. Think it, child, and I will read your thoughts. ‘Tis safer that way.

At his silence, she formed her thoughts carefully, lest her father should know of her affection for her dragon. His mother told him that he was destined to join with a Chosen One. He believes it’s me, but I laughed at him. He is a dragon and I am a mortal. It cannot be. But he was so certain that I almost believed him. I wanted to believe him.

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Relax, child. He may be right or he may be wrong. We cannot know for certain. No one knows the families chosen or where they were hidden. The plans were made in secret. Only the Records Keeper knows what will come and she has been silent for many, many seasons. Perchance she has even gone to her next life with the secrets. Who but The Supreme One knows for certain? The children to come, the Chosen Ones, had to be kept safe.

But Rynak is the last dragon. He told me so.

Nay, beautiful Xlana. He is not the last of the dragons; he is merely the last of his family. But he may not see his dragon kinsmen until the night…the night the four moons align.

He drew a fistful of powder from one of the wooden bowls and scattered it on the tabletop, then he moved the tip of his finger through the silvery dust, outlining an odd-looking diamond shape with a large dot in the center. When the four moons align like this, the time will have come and the battle begins. He paused again, a frown on his weathered face. Or perchance the alignment of the moons means the battle ends and all is right with our worlds. I can never keep that straight.

He acted as if he were thinking aloud. How strange, Xlana thought. It wasn’t like Czerick to be uncertain of himself or his knowledge.

Papa, how can this be? she asked, pointing at the silvery drawing. To know the alignment is to know the plan. Did the moons themselves decide what pattern they would choose? This makes no sense. How could you learn this? From divination?

It does not matter how I know. He coughed again. What I think may even prove false. Too many seasons have passed; too many generations of offspring have come and gone. All that I know is what was told by the one who came before me. It is enough that I have some knowledge and I pass the instructions to you. When or if the moons align, you will know what must be done. Then you must perform your task and join your brothers and sisters.

Xlana felt as if the earth moved beneath her feet. She was grateful she was seated. Her heart leapt within her chest. Her brothers and sisters? Dragons and immortals in alliance, scattered about the heavens, water and earth. Three dragon families, three families of immortals. Papa, ‘tis beyond belief. You age just as the other elders of the village. Are sorcerers immortal? Do they age?

To a certain time. The sadness in his voice was painful. Do not let the title fool you. A deity lives many seasons longer than a sorcerer or a mortal, but everyone’s existence alters in time. All things change from one lifetime to the next.

She turned the idea about in her head for several minutes, but each thought only led to more questions. She glanced at her father and noticed he had moved away from the table to stand staring at the fire in the hearth, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

Xlana, you must dress now and hide your dragon’s horn. Do not let it part from your care. Karn makes his way to our door as we speak. You should not arouse suspicion by remaining with your night skirt in disarray. Gossip is much like fire; it needs no more than air and fuel to spread.

Absently, she dismissed the fact her father knew of Karn’s coming, just as he’d known of the plans for the destruction and salvation of their world. He stopped her before she left the room.

Child, I must warn you. If I tell you to run, run like the wind. Do not look back. He paused and took a deep breath. And as the time of your task arrives, you will learn things that will sadden or distress you. You must look beyond these things. Focus on the course at hand, not on the choices made by those before you.

Yes, Papa. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, grabbed Rynak’s horn and dashed from the room as footsteps approached their door.

CHAPTER TWO

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I have come for my bride. Karn strode into the cabin with a thud of boots, and the sounds of his men trooping behind him.

You may not claim my daughter. Czerick cried. She will never accept you.

You are wrong, old man, as you should have known when I made my intentions plain in the village square a half-moon since. I have been generous in giving you time to prepare her, but your hourglass must be slow. She was to be at my house yestermorn.

Xlana huddled in the corner of her bedroom, picturing the scene. The breeze was slight outside, not enough to breach the cracks in her log and sod walls. Yet she felt chilled to her bones. Karn meant to seize her whether she accepted him or not! She could feel it within her skin. Blast him! She had not made the ritual acceptance at the village well. The circle and cross symbol of her family still hung on a sturdy string about her neck. She clasped it, uttering a silent prayer that she might meld with the wall, hiding herself and Rynak’s horn from Karn’s evil clutches.

The daughter of a sorcerer is not restrained by tradition, Czerick said haughtily. Nor does she yield to a mere mortal, let alone an ignorant peasant turned warrior.

Karn’s angry bellow shook the cottage. There was the swish of a metal blade and a meaty thunk as it struck its target. Then came the thud of a body striking the floor, and Xlana knew in her soul that her father was dead. She longed to rush out and avenge him. But to challenge Karn and his men would mean instant death-or capture. ‘Twould be a worse fate than death to live as the foul warrior’s chattel. Silent tears streamed down her face as she acknowledged the fact that she was alone. Rynak and Czerick were lost to her.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Karn beat upon her bedroom door and demanded entrance. She prayed again for the wall behind her to accept her as part of its own. Her fingers and arms began to tingle. Then the tingling moved through her body to her toes. She felt weightless, peculiar, but surprisingly distanced from his threat. She stared at where her fingers should be and saw only blank space. Sod encompassed various lengths of her body and felt cool. Wooden planks appeared where her breasts, feet, knees and head should be, all of them sturdy. Xlana blinked. Had the wall heard her pleas and granted her asylum?

Her bedroom door crashed forward and landed on the wooden floor. ‘Twas a meager barrier to the weight of a warrior intent upon claiming his bride. She watched as he stomped into the room, his metal boots sounding like the shod hooves of horses stabled nearby. She started to giggle as she compared him to an ass, but she stifled the sound before it passed her throat.

He wore the woolen vest and leggings of a warrior. Pieces of steel were interwoven in the fabric to prevent the penetration of an enemy’s sword or knife. The metal helmet atop his head reflected the brief sunlight shining through the window. She watched as he glanced toward the opening, then he strode over to look out. When he turned around, his brown eyes were wickedly bright, lit by a fire within. She shivered as if seeing him for the first time. Evil surrounded him like an aura and his strong mouth was chiseled in a twist of displeasure.

Find her, he ordered his men. Search the woods, the neighbor’s houses. She must be hiding elsewhere. She heard the stomp of his boots as he made his way to the front of the cabin, where he shouted further orders. Burn this place. Czerick, you old fool! You’ll roast in the Demon’s fires!

Xlana slipped from the wall and reeled from dizziness, but the sensation passed within seconds. With a pat, she thanked the wood and sod for accepting her and keeping her safe, and offered a last wish that fire would not be too hard a burden to bear. You have housed me well, dear home. I regret that-Wait. Was she the daughter of a sorcerer or not? Could she not find a way to save her beloved home? The thought took on a life of its own and permeated her soul. Despite her losses, she felt strong. Her task was at hand; she could feel it. Words came to her heart and sprang from her throat. I call upon the glory of the Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water. Save these walls and keep the fire from burning them now and always. Let all know Czerick has served you well.

She walked to the front door, grateful it was closed so none of Karn’s men would see her. Standing before it, she called again. Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water, I call upon you. Please bind all mortal men and women from entering my home. I will need sanctuary.

It was time to face the loss of her father. She must look upon him one last time and perform the rituals of burial. Before she reached the kitchen, she felt a stirring from within and froze.

Well done, child.

It was Czerick’s voice; she was certain. But he was dead! How could he speak to her?

Tsk. You still feel the need for explanations. You have always been a curious child, Xlana, determined to know the why and how of things. Such knowledge is not always necessary to complete a task. Feel not a loss, dear child. I shall be with you and we shall see each other again. There remains much to learn and my journey is not complete until you have all knowledge at your disposal. Your parents would not approve of my leaving you now.

My parents? she whispered. A tear trickled down her cheek. But you are my papa, husband to my mother, who died at childbirth.

Nay, child. Just a humble servant pleased to have been given a charge such as yourself.

She searched within her spirit and recognized the truth shimmering beneath the surface, like the tiny silvery fish that swam beneath the watery surface of the loch. Czerick?

Yes, child. I am still here.

She stared at his corpse. A red sea pooled about his shoulders and his head lay three stones from his torso. Bewildered, she watched as the blood surrounding him dwindled to nothing. Then his head and body disappeared.

Xlana fell to her knees. Her heart pounded as hard and as loud as the huge drums used for village celebrations. How can this be?

You would prefer to have spent hours on your knees to clean up mortal remains? Czerick’s ethereal voice asked. He sounded amused. How, pray tell, would you have accomplished a traditional burial without being captured by Karn?

Stop this, she ordered. You act as if you are sharing a joke! Have I not seen enough twists and turns for one day?

In her peripheral view, a glimmering light stood about five stones from her. She turned her head to study it, amazed by the splintering points extending from a central glow. It was like having a star fall from the heavens to land in her kitchen. The pointed sphere of light!

My dear, it is as I have said. All life changes from one end to the next. He chuckled. Actually, I find this essence much more appealing than the last. I am free to move about without aches and pains. To prove his point, he glided around the kitchen and into the living room, while Xlana followed the most unusual star. He laughed and the tips looked as if they’d been freshly sprinkled with gold dust. Ah, yes, Supreme One. Well done. Very well done indeed.

The sounds of cursing outside the cabin brought both of their attentions back to matters at hand. The men were discovering fire would not incinerate the home as Karn had ordered. Xlana sighed with relief.

You doubted your abilities? Czerick asked.

She shrugged and shuddered as she heard their enemy’s voice. Karn.

Worry not, Xlana. Your spell will hold. She heard a crinkle of amusement within Czerick’s words. Too often I used to wonder if you listened to my instructions.

She didn’t have time to ponder his paternal musings. Unable to burn the cabin from the ground up, the warriors had taken to throwing fiery torches through the windows. Without thinking, she took a deep breath and blew. In room after room, the beacons extinguished as easily as the odd wax flames Czerick had used on a cake two weeks earlier when she’d reached eighteen winters, the age of maturity. She swayed with disbelief, propping herself up with her hand against a nearby wall.

By the Gods! Karn cursed from outside.

The words rang false, as if he thought one thing and spoke another. He plays a part that no longer fits. Perchance the role he’d played within the village had never fit. Mayhap that was why she’d always felt cold and dark around him. She wondered where the insight came from.

She melded with an outer wall and took a peek at her angry would-be husband. He knelt on the ground and made marks with his finger as he spoke in a foreign tongue she’d never heard before. By the Gods, she agreed silently, knowing full well that nothing he did was condoned by the Gods she served. What was he doing?

Seconds later he stood, lit another torch, and threw it through the living room window. Xlana withdrew from the wall and blew with all her might. Nothing happened. Several places burst with unearthly fires within the room: the wooden seat Czerick had built, the covers she’d sewn together and filled with goose feathers, the quilt she’d stitched for cold winter nights.

Supreme One, who would have known? Czerick muttered. Karn is an instrument of the Demon of Fire!

Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water, I plead with you, Xlana said. Bind together your strength and come to my defense. Put this fire out and any other Karn or his soldiers might throw within my home. Bind Karn from entering my home, that I might remain strong for my task.

The flames licking at the upholstery died. Black and gray smoke filled the tiny house and cast a prickling doubt down Xlana’s spine. She felt an evil omen, realizing the magnitude of what was to come. The battle between good and evil begins. But was she strong enough to face the future? With a cough, she turned to the sparkle she now recognized as Czerick.

The front door shuddered as if someone were ramming it to knock it down. Karn. He tried a second time and she shivered, praying the door would hold. It did.

I know you are in there, Xlana. I will leave for now, he bellowed. But I will be back. Know this, for I shall have you as my own.

Never, she whispered. Instinctively, she knew he could never have her and if need be, she must die to prevent uniting with him. But, she also knew she would not underestimate him again.

She dismissed Karn from her thoughts. Now, Czerick. The bright colors in front of her eyes no longer caused her breath to catch in her throat. This was Czerick and her task had begun. It was time for strength, not youthful frivolity. She accepted this form as easily as she had accepted his mortal shape. You will teach me what I must know to fulfill my destiny.

Yes, my child.

He sounded sad and Xlana felt his pain as well as her own. Their time as father and child was over. She knew the truth. He was not her father, nor had he ever been. They were compatriots in a war to save the world. She looked over at the charred remains of her furniture and sighed. She had lost a lot this day and she would lose more before her task was complete.

This new knowledge of Karn complicates things, Czerick said. I cannot bind him from touching you or claiming you for his own. At the very least he has vowed his allegiance to the Demon of Fire. You must keep your wits about you at all times. A union between you and Karn, whether forced or by choice, will destroy the alliance.

I understand.

We must work first on the horn. You must play music in the new dawn.

She reeled with shock. A war begins and I am to play music?

Do not act cross with me, child! There is much to this I am learning as you are. Do you think the Gods trust anyone with full knowledge? Nay. I daresay it is safer to impart the steps as they unfold. The first step is to play your music so that all may hear the time has come.

With his scant explanation, Xlana understood. He was still with her in the form of light to guide and aid her as needed. It was up to her to alert the others-her brothers and sisters. But she had questions that would not wait.

Am I immortal, Czerick?

He sighed. Yes, child. I was there for your birth. Believe me when I say you were and are well loved. The Demon searched for you and as word came to us, your parents and I realized you needed to be hidden. I was granted the privilege of raising you, hidden amongst mortals.

Then it was true. Everything she’d suspected, every image that had flashed by her when she received Rynak’s horn would come to pass. The dreams of her youth, visions of a man and woman watching over her

Have I ever seen my parents?

Nay, my beautiful child, not as you would expect. Your kinsmen were killed shortly after your birth, when the Demon seized your father’s palace and burned it to the ground.

But to kill an immortal? How can this be? The very title declares it impossible.

There are two ways for an immortal to pass on to their next life. The first is as you have seen, removing the head from the body, the same as for a sorcerer. The second is by the wish of the immortal, a petition made to The Supreme One. Your mother chose the second as it allowed her to see you on occasion and to remain with her husband who was killed by the Demon.

Xlana blinked back a tear, but not before a second one escaped and trickled down her cheek. She’d never known her parents, but she mourned them just the same. What of the remaining Chosen Ones? Will I recognize them when I see them?

I do not know, Czerick answered. Perchance not, for fear it will place both of you in danger.

Then whom do I trust? Her fingers wound around her dragon’s horn for comfort.

No one. Trust no one and nothing. Your dragon, Rynak, will face his own temptations. Even the creatures of the seas and the woods may swear allegiance to the Demon to save their lives.

Xlana wanted to weep freely, but she stilled her soul and slowed the blood rushing frantically in her veins. She must remain calm and keep her wits about her. She had heard enough and it was time to put the past to rest.

Throughout the afternoon she created holes in her dragon’s horn, following Czerick’s instructions. Tomorrow, as dawn stole over the shore, she would alert the others.

*

Rynak swam aimlessly about in the loch near Xlana’s village. He could not bear to put distance between them. Restlessness ate at his bones and teased his senses as he was nagged by fears. Now he knew for certain-Xlana was his mate. The truth had been made clear by the glow of his horn in her hands. But could he protect her from the dangers to come? How? He couldn’t even stop the worries she faced about Karn, not without exposing her and himself to further peril.

Oh, how beautiful she’d become. Her long midnight black hair had grown beyond her waist and glistened in the morning light like a raven’s wing. Her beautiful purple eyes were the color of his claws and shimmered with the joys of life. She had declared the color the same as the fruit of the yatke bush. He had never seen a yatke bush. Did she know how much he longed to see her world, how much he wished to share his world with her?

Rynak propelled himself through the water, his wings folded into themselves. Dodging the edges of underwater cliffs, he glided effortlessly deeper, ignoring the tiny fish that darted from his path. How foolish they were. To feed him would take thousands of their kind and he did not hunger for weeks at a time. When he did, he would swim out to sea for larger species of fish. For the moment, however, he needed to be quiet and regain his strength while his body regenerated and he grew another horn. Already a new one had started, a mere bump above his forehead.

If only he could recuperate under Xlana’s loving touch. He doubted that she knew she had a healer’s touch. Her mindless caresses had seared a path to his soul, energizing him as if he’d had several feedings in one. He’d been giddy with relief to see her this morn. Gods be praised, she was to be his! It did not matter that his shape was different from hers. If the Gods ordained they be one, the way would be shown. Should he be jealous of the spotted man he’d seen when he’d shared her visions? Or was this to be the way the Gods chose for them to be together?

All of life shapes itself to meet the conditions necessary, his mother had said. Had she known this from experience? Perchance she’d once been like Xlana and changed for her mate.

Day passed to evening and Rynak peered through the water to see the colors of the heavens change, casting brilliant streaks of pink, orange and blue through the cool, deep pool. In the distance, he saw mortals come to the edge of the shore to bathe. What funny lumpy bodies they had! His blood heated as he thought of Xlana. Her body was similar to these, but different. She had enticing curves that drew his eyes. By sheer instinct, he had recognized the speckled marks of purity on her forehead. Dark lines reflecting her perfection framed her royal eyes. These other mortals paled in comparison and he lost interest. He focused on the rocky formation jutting from the frigid water.

A light shone from the tower atop the mountainside and Rynak wondered as to its use. Was it there for the people of the village to find their way, or to watch for travelers by water or land? He wondered what they’d do if he suddenly burst from the water and flapped a wet wing to extinguish the silly flame. True, he had reached physical maturity, but there were times when his childish heart still required play. He refrained, exercising wisdom for the moment. In his heart and soul, he knew the time for caution had come. So had the time for rest. Wedging himself between underwater earthen shelves, he settled in for the night.

*

Rynak rose to the sound of sweet music such as he’d never heard before. It sounded familiar as each note magically found its way to his heart. Easing himself out of his sleeping hole, he noticed a murmur within the waters. How strange. It was as if the water itself was responding to the music from above. He peered through the liquid as he’d done the night before, looking along the shore for the source.

Rynak, wherever you are, please hear me.

It was Xlana’s voice. She was playing for him! His heart beat faster, pounding against his scaly chest. He gazed up at the sky and saw beams of light dancing around her in time with the tune. Why, even the heavens responded to her ethereal sound! Rynak digested the thought as he glided through the water. His wings were cramped and he craved the ability to fly in the air to relax them, but he would not give up his view of Xlana on her rock. She faced the loch as if she knew he was there, as if she knew he was listening.

What was she saying through her musical notes? He opened his heart further to listen and heard words of loneliness, desire…warning. She was warning him of danger? Seconds later he decided he was wrong. The announcement was not for him alone; she was telling the others that it was time. What others? Time for what? He thought further on this. Hadn’t he talked yestermorn on the subject, telling her their worlds were about to change?

Rynak, I pray that you heard my songs, Xlana said from her seat on the rock. Brothers and sisters, I pray the sounds of this music will reach you. We must find each other and unite. But beware of the temptation to turn from our duties. Beware of false signals and watch for each other, testing for purity and conviction.

She brought the horn back to her lips and played again, a song of loneliness and her desire to find solace. It was all Rynak could do not to leap from the water and rush to comfort her. But that would not do. He was near the edge of his liquid boundary, ready to pick her up and fly to safety when he heard the sounds of people approaching.

Xlana, he cried from his mind to hers. Karn comes! I’m on my way to- >

No, she answered. Dive deep and be still. I can protect myself today. >

Stunned by the conviction in her reply, he decided he would not dive. He would remain still and watch. It was imperative to stay close in case Xlana needed him.

Ten men burst through the woodland border, but only one spoke. Over there, sir! On that rock. It’s her!

Where? Karn demanded. He seized his companion’s shoulder and the man flinched. Which rock?

At the water’s edge, sir.

You fool! There are dozens of rocks near the water’s edge. Which one?

That one. The bewildered warrior shook his head and then rubbed his face in disbelief. She was—

Rynak looked where Xlana had been, where he thought she still would be. But there was nothing, no evidence she’d ever been there. She’d escaped! He was so proud of her that he thought he might burst.

She was where? Karn demanded darkly, in a voice that promised retribution for failure. Pray tell where you think she might be hiding. Perchance she dove into the sea and I am to pull her frozen body from the water to mount ice? Or did she flee back to the woods in front of all ten of us, and no one thought to sound the alarm? He growled at the men surrounding him. Find her! Now!

Rynak watched in silence. Karn seized one of his men by the collar as the rest hastened to conduct a search. You. Search with this glass through the water. If she’s here, then her dragon should be nearby.

Rynak froze. Karn knew of his relationship with Xlana? This was an unpleasant surprise. He concentrated on melding with the waves. He must stay alive to help her if she needed him. Hide well, my love.

I am well hidden, my dragon. I am as safe within this stony surface as you are within the water.

>

Had he heard her right? Did she say within the stony surface? By the Gods! She had melded with a rock?!

CHAPTER THREE

>

Xlana heard Rynak’s thoughts and the frantic efforts of the warriors under Karn’s command and smiled. Her smile faded as she felt the rock she’d joined with give to the weight of a man. Karn. She recognized his smell, the stench of too much brew, filthy weed, and recent sex-a man unwashed for far too long. He stepped again and she felt the weight of his boot on her belly, his metal heel gouging the stone. Then it was gone and replaced by his other foot, the first now digging into the stone and her breast. Ouch!

He glanced down at the rock, scrutinizing it as if he felt her presence. By the Gods! Could he see her? His eyes narrowed and she realized she was losing strength. If this continued, she would separate from the rock. That could not happen, although she wished she could slip out for a moment to poke him in the eye for his impudence. She focused harder.

Xlana, you would do well not to fight me. Our destiny is clear and you will be mine. I have foreseen it.

Was he merely thinking aloud or did he know she could hear him? Waves of panic threatened, but she remained still. She focused her thoughts instead on a branch she saw in her mind’s eye, willing it to move as if she was behind it. Disbelief followed as one of Karn’s men called out and he jumped off the rock and ran toward the woods. She’d done it!

Or had she?

From her distance, it was difficult to hear the words spoken, except those said by Karn. He was demanding information as always, but from whom? She turned within her stone sanctuary for a better look. Merciful heavens, she thought, staring at the odd little creature quivering before the man she’d dubbed as evil incarnate. He’s caught an elf.

Standing as tall as Karn’s boot, the little elf shivered, and she felt Karn’s irritation. The next second, he seized the creature and held it level with his face. Dejectedly, it looked down, seemingly aware it could drop as easily as it had been lifted into the air.

She came through here not long before you did, the dwarf whimpered. I don’t know where she went after that, sir, only she didn’t come back to the forest. We can’t see beyond the realm of the forest.

You speak the truth, Karn said.

Xlana winced at the certainty she heard in his voice. It was as if he’d looked within the tiny creature and yanked the answer from its mind.

Your kind is limited to Vrlanz Woods. She watched Karn’s eyes narrow as he stared at the impotent hairball. What if you could change this?

It is impossible to change without turning to join theYes, Karn interrupted him. You have that right. So what is your answer? Do you wish to be free from the boundaries that restrict you?

The elf shuddered under the warrior’s glare. Xlana could sense the dwarf’s indecision, the way he longed for more freedom, yet feared his own demise at the whim of the Demon of Fire.

How, sir? the elf asked.

Say yes. Agree to watch where Xlana goes and report to me. Only to me.

Xlana’s heart raced, her concentration disrupted, threatening once more to separate her from the rock. That would mean two with the power to thwart her! If the elf made an oath to the Demon of Fire, Xlana could not bind him. She would have to rely on her wits alone to evade both Karn and this scraggly pile of fur. How many others had Karn brought under the protection of his evil master?

While the creature debated his answer, Xlana escaped from her stony haven and raced down the shore. He would say yes; she knew it as well as she knew the lines of her palm. Sand flew around her bare feet as she raced for safety. There was another way to the village, a longer route than through Vrlanz Woods. This time it would have to do, regardless of the threat of being seen.

Sir! One of the men called. There she is! She’s running along the shore!

Before the next beat of her heart, ten warriors and one elf were chasing Xlana and gaining on her. Fast. She looked for sanctuary-anything she could join with to hide. There were numerous rocks, but Karn might guess the truth if she played that game again.

There! A dune ahead would provide her with an opportunity to hide for a moment. Either she could blend with the ground below her or she’d find something on the other side. As she dashed over the warming sand, she wished herself into the salty grains. She was almost inside when she felt a pinch on her backside. She glared silently at the insolent crab and realized what was wrong. There was life in the sand. Obviously, she could not meld with anything containing life. Arggh!

Nearby, she saw a solitary log washed ashore with the morning tide. She dove. From within the log, she watched as Karn and his men cleared the dune and stared in disbelief. Praise the Gods! They couldn’t find her!

She glanced at the elf and cringed as he stared speculatively at the driftwood. He stalked over and placed a solid kick, which she felt in her midsection. Damnation. For a little fellow, he packed a wallop behind his tiny boot.

Move, Karn ordered and the fur ball backed away from the wood. I will have you yet, Xlana, he bellowed as he picked up the driftwood and tossed it to the sea. I will find you!

With a gulp of seawater, Xlana panicked. If the wood stayed afloat, she could shift positions to stay alive. If it sank… She couldn’t see the shore. She couldn’t see anything, save the water below and the wood that was both her sanctuary and perchance her doom.

Rynak, she called. Surely he could save her?

I am here.

She felt a nudge, a tiny prick of his beaklike mouth.

You are in the wood? he asked.

Aye. But I cannot swim. If I leave the log-There was a moment’s pause that felt like a full season to Xlana.

Leave the log, he said, but hold on to it until you have taken a long, deep breath. It must be sufficient to last you a minute or two. Can you do that?

What choice did she have? She didn’t know if she could, and her head hurt from the blood racing through her veins. Aye. But what of Karn and his men?

They are gone. Only the elf remains.

But he knows, Rynak. I cannot show myself if he’s still there. He’ll report it to Karn.

I know, beloved. But what can he report? That you surfaced from a log and then you were gone? Perchance Karn will think you’ve drowned.

Xlana sighed. No. He already believes you are in the loch. He will search for both of us.

Rynak chuckled. Then he searches. But he will never find us.

She wished she had Rynak’s confidence. Hesitantly, she separated from the log and slipped under the water with a gasp. Rising, she gripped the wood and coughed, the seawater harsh to her throat and eyes. Nausea soon followed, but she would have none of it. She had to be strong. She glanced below and saw Rynak. He was there, just as he’d said he was. She took a deep breath and held it, releasing her hands and allowing herself to sink. She closed her eyes against the seawater, although she desperately wanted to see what he saw, where he was taking her.

As they moved, things rubbed against her back, causing her to blink, searching for whatever it was that had frightened her to near apoplexy. She lost the breath in her mouth and panicked, her eyes now open and stinging. She raked her nails against Rynak’s side in a plea for help. But he ignored her as the water grew darker, more ominous. She nearly lost her grip around his long throat and silently willed herself to die with dignity or accept the fact he knew what he was doing.

A moment later, they emerged from the water. She coughed, seizing every breath of precious air as quickly as she could. Her chest hurt as she heaved great gulps of the stale, damp air. Darkness surrounded them and she clung to Rynak as if he was the only thing separating her from death.

Where are we? she asked.

This is a cave. We are on the other side of the loch, he replied. Shut your eyes and take safety beneath my wing.

She didn’t waste time asking for further explanations. Instead, she burrowed under his wing and spread her arms around him. Beneath her ear, she could feel the beat of his heart and she concentrated on the steady ba-rump, ba-rump to keep herself from screaming with fright. Long minutes passed.

From beyond his wing she heard other noises, sounds of things falling to the ground below them. Were rocks falling from above? Would he save them from one disaster to destroy them in another? No. She could not believe that. Whatever he did, there was a purpose behind it. She inched closer. Ba-rump. Ba-rump. The ground shook briefly below them, but given the constant beat of his heart, he was calm, so she would be also.

The silky scales against her cheek were comforting. She’d never been this close to him before. He smelled fresh, as if the sea had washed him inside and out. She breathed in the scent, filling her nostrils with him, absorbing his warmth through her cold, wet clothes. Despite the shimmy of the ground below, she felt safe in the wings of her beloved.

For the first time, she considered the alliances made between the dragon families and the immortals. They were mated, or at the very least betrothed; she was certain. The gift of his horn now made sense. But were the unions sanctified in the mortal way, for beast and person to breed? If so, how could this be? Would they change to suit the need or would breeding no longer be necessary? Would she ever know the touch of a man, or Rynak, as one lover to another? Or was he the speckled man she’d seen in the visions given to her while she held his horn for the first time? She hoped-oh, how she hoped. She pressed a kiss to his scale, tasting the salty flavor of him. Ba-rump, ba-rump, ba-rump. His heartbeat quickened and she smiled. Was he reading her thoughts or merely reacting to her touch?

You can come out now.

Though she heard his words in her mind, they came as a whisper in the night. Soft and husky, he sounded as though he was as out of breath as she felt. Her toes dug in the sandy earth below. Reluctantly, she withdrew from her cozy haven and took her first look around. Light poured through a hole above and warmed the cave. If she stood there long enough, her clothes would dry.

Thank you, he said. For the kiss.

She flushed beneath his gaze, embarrassed to have been caught yet she was pleased. Thank you…for saving my life. Xlana looked away, despite the fact she wanted no more than to stand and stare, or marvel at the sunlight casting turquoise reflections of his scales about the stone and mud walls. His glory filled the cave. Where are we?

As I said before, we are on the other side of the loch. His pointed beak curved slightly to form a smile.

I’ve never been beyond the shore before. She tapped her fingernails against her mouth. The urge to nervously nibble was overwhelming. Are there dangers?

I don’t know. From overhead, the biggest danger is a spear in flight.

Oh. She smiled. Makes sense to me. She found herself again and looked away. How foolish she’d sounded. She needed to be practical and stop acting like a lovesick idiot. Will this be home for a while? If it is, we need to find leaves or feathers that I can make into a bed. We need to decide if we’ll have a fire during the night. If we do, we need to gather wood. You could boost me through that hole and I can look around, dropping what we need down here as I find it. The words raced from her mouth with a will of their own.

You are so eager to face danger? His previous pleasant expression faded, replaced by a scowl.

No, of course not, she answered. But I’ll have a better chance at finding what we need than you will.

He nodded. At times I curse my own form. I would prefer to go with you, but it will have to be enough to guard you from the sea. You will call me if I am needed?

We’ve already talked of this, Rynak.

The conditions have changed, Xlana. We know the risk of peril has increased. Until we identify the others, everyone is in jeopardy.

All the more reason we should take the risks separately. He was not going to change her mind; he might as well accept it and be done.

We are united. If one dies, so will the other. His unspoken words lingered in the air about them as their gazes met. His pale eyes stared into hers as each refused to look away. Understand, he begged. I cannot lose you. >

And I cannot lose you, she said. But the Gods’ truth, the bigger the target, the bigger the risk. You should stay here. You can read my thoughts; that should be enough. She turned away to survey the cave. Leaves, or a fat goose to supply feathers for my bed, she decided. Should I look for something in particular to make your slumber more comfortable?

Lie beside me and I will sleep very well.

She flushed and the cave felt warm, too warm for comfort. Enough of those thoughts, Rynak. She could feel his hunger for her as well as hers for him. Whether they be dragon and immortal or two of the same, they could at least take comfort in not being alone.

Then leaves will do, he said. But if we shared a bed, you would have a pillow and we would have no need for a fire. He paused. No fire, no smoke.

I see your point. She felt her blood stir with temptation. What of food? she asked breathlessly.

I will not hunger for weeks. Mortals and even immortals, however, are known to hunger every day. Should I fish for your dinner?

She saw through his ruse easily. He wanted to keep her safely confined within the cave. Clever. Very clever. Let me see what I can find first. If need be, you can go fishing after dark. Now boost me up, she ordered.

He did as she commanded, but she knew his heart was wary. At least she wasn’t suffering alone, she thought, as she looked at her new island for the first time. She sniffed cautiously, her gaze darting this way and that. They were farther from the shore than she’d thought. How curious that the waters beneath had carved a haven so well hidden! She was surrounded by woods similar to Vrlanz Woods. Now that she knew what to look for, she wondered if there were other elves turned to serve the Demon of Fire. What was she to do if she found one? Czerick’s words repeated in her mind. Trust no one.

Would there be a village nearby? The scent of a distant fire told her there were mortals on this side of the loch as well. It only made sense, she decided. Hadn’t her own village battled with others from the opposite side of her island? Different from her home island, there wasn’t a tower standing on a hillside or the cliff overlooking the rushing water. She tried to look across the sea, but saw only water. Where was she? She couldn’t even see her own people’s tower. Had Rynak taken her that far away?

Xlana crept to the forest, scanning everywhere around her as she went. Her senses were on high alert as she inched her way forward. She seized branches full of ripe green leaves, breaking some off as she passed, then dashed back to the hole Rynak had made and dropped them. She heard the rumble of his ouch and chuckled.

Sorry, beloved, she called quietly.

He grumbled again and she was off for another load.

After three such journeys, Xlana felt as if there were eyes watching her every move. Yet when she looked about, she saw nothing. Then she saw it: a whir of air, as if each particle collided into another, leaving nothing but a rustle of underbrush and the indication of a stiff breeze centered in one spot. Odd. The hairs on her arm tingled and there was the tiniest of tugs on the hair of her head.

She whirled around. The space before her appeared empty, but she was certain her eyes were deceived. She studied the yatke bush nearby, burdened with ripe juicy fruit. A leaf moved. A cricket leapt from one branch to another a mere inch away. Ants marched in a single line, intent upon carrying the carcass of a larger bug to their burrow. A hushed murmur penetrated the woods as if the trees spoke to one another in a secret language.

She blinked. One of the fruits disappeared and then reappeared. She watched for another moment and two fruits disappeared at the same time. Then they were back. This was not normal, not normal at all. She swung forward and grabbed, her hands closing about…shoulders? She pulled her captive away from the bush and stared. The two fruits were eyes, deep purple and dazed.

Le’ hi to cottu? the new arrival said.

What? What are you? Xlana demanded. You are not elf. You are too tall, she said as her captive rose to its full height. You wear clothing of the forest, but you bear lined skin…the skin of a mortal. She rubbed lightly and watched as the non-elf, not quite mortal winced. The light paint loosed from his shoulders and revealed pale, mortal skin like her own. Who are you? What are you? she demanded again. If I release you, will you run? Her startling find shook its head. She let him loose. You speak my language? Xlana asked.

Speak you mine, came the reply. How be this?

Xlana surveyed him again. She was positive this was a he. Voices don’t lie and his had the slumberous air of a male, certain of his position in the world. Even now he rose above her to tower inches taller, forcing her to look up. By the Gods, she hated this. She dug deep within her senses to determine if he was a danger. No. He was an unknown, but he would cause her no harm unless she started something first.

She sniffed, even as he did, each hoping to learn something about the other. He smelled of rich earth warmed by the noon sun glimmering through the branches above. He smelled…clean, she thought with surprise. How odd. Even in her own village, she was the only one besides Czerick to bathe daily.

Were the thick lines on his face paint? She reached toward his cheek intent on rubbing a spot to find out. He backed away. He reached forward to touch her wet hair, freed during her uncomfortable swim in the lochs, and now hanging over her breast. She backed up.

Very well, she decided aloud. You are neither friend nor foe. Yet.

His eyes narrowed. Give me reason, mortal, and I can be either.

As can I. Give me your name and I shall give you mine.

Pretog.

Xlana. She looked about the woods. You live here and not in a village?

Mortals in the village. He spat.

Either he’d spent too much time salivating or he was making things perfectly clear on how he felt about mortals. Which was it? Why?

Why what?

By the Gods! If they were to spend all day speaking at cross-purposes, it would be nightfall before she could decide if he was trustworthy. Why do you spit on mortals?

No mortal here. The odd lines on his face drew upward and she had another answer. They were not painted on. They moved as if they were dozens of eyebrows, each in sync with the next.

She tried again. Why do you hate mortals?

Do not hate. Foolish they are. Spend their days chasing each other, creating more of their kind as if the world will never end. But the time has come when their futures will be decided. They do not even know.

He sounded amazed, just like she’d been the day before. Could he be a part of the alliance? Caution, she reminded herself.

Know you the Demon of Fire? he asked.

Icy fear crept down her spine. No, she thought. This can’t be! Please, Gods, tell me I haven’t walked into a trap?

Strengthen yourself, Rynak’s voice broke through. Touch him and you will know.>

I know of him, she admitted. Warily, she stretched forth her fingers.

She’d touched Pretog before, but this time she allowed her hand to linger on his skin, testing its warmth, her mind digging deep within him for the truth. He flinched, but ultimately he reached for her as well. Within a moment, they had their answers. Their souls spoke to one another and Xlana knew she’d found another piece of the puzzle.

You are not a danger, she said.

Nor be you, he answered. Know you the plan?

The plan? She laughed. So far it seems to consist of blowing the Dragon’s Horn and everyone stands around asking questions. No one knows the plan, not even Rynak.

Who be Rynak?

His question slipped out so innocently, she was tempted to answer him right then and there. But she remembered the elf. We must not talk here. Even the woods are not safe.

Woods my home. Elves my friends.

He would not follow her lead. He resisted her tug and stubbornly stood his ground. Males, she thought with disgust.

On my island, an elf was turned to serve the Demon of Fire. As we speak, Karn and this elf are searching for me.

Karn?

It’s a long story, Pretog. He serves our enemy. He seeks to steal my virtue and powers, to turn the tide of the war before it begins.

War has begun. I have heard the music. The lines of his face curved upward again as he stared, his puzzlement clear in his eyes.

So the music she played this morning had been a call to arms for the others. Frustrated, she wove her fingers through her hair. She noticed he followed every movement of her fingers like a fascinated child. Was he man or youth? Were children to fight this war? Would the Gods be that foolish?

Come back, Xlana. Bring him to me, Rynak called. It is better to have both our wits about us than to stand alone. >

Bring him to you? she nearly shrieked. If you could suggest a way of moving him, Rynak—

Speak you to this Rynak as if he stands here? Pretog asked. He let go of a lock of Xlana’s hair. She hadn’t noticed he’d been holding one.

By the Gods, I’ve got to keep my wits. She looked over at Pretog, pointedly glaring at his hand as he withdrew from her. Keep your hands to yourself, brother dear.

He glared back, looking as confused as ever. Brother? Be you sister?

Well, this was the oddest reunion in the history of mortals-even immortals. >

You have it, woodsman. Now let us go. You need to meet my other half. She led the way to the hole and pointed to it. Now we go down. I’ll go first.

She folded her arms against herself and jumped. Beneath her, Rynak grunted. He’d folded his wings and sat beneath the hole to cushion her fall. For a moment she was glad. Then she slipped down his back and ran into his three-pronged tail.

Ouch! she yelled as a pointy arrow cut into her leg. She hobbled off to allow Pretog the same ‘privilege.’ Next time Rynak, be kind enough to raise your tail.

Next time, bring your friend or relative home first, he said.

Oh, for mercy’s sake! Are you jealous? Of what? Do you believe my heart would turn that easily?

You’ve spoken nothing of your heart, he answered sourly. He is of mortal form. You seem…pleasured by his appearance.

He’s my brother, she yelled. You could be jealous of my brother?

Mighty Antzen! Pretog’s voice entered the fray. Be you mated with a dragon?

No. I’m mated with a fool, Xlana argued. But I wouldn’t stand there smiling so big, brother dear. Wait until you get a look at your mate. Perchance there’s a pretty young dragon out there for you, too.

Pretog hung his head to one side and stared at her with full curiosity. Then he laughed. Better I be wed to a tree.

Watch your wishes, woodsman. She may look like a tree. The nice thing would be if she were as silent as a tree, Rynak said with a glare in Xlana’s direction.

Pretog looked at both and shook his head. A dragon. A sister. The war starts and I fight beside a dragon and a woman.

That is not all, Xlana warned, crossing her arms. You fight beside three dragons and perchance two women. There will be six of us against an unknown number. We do not know if our enemies are mortal, elf, beast, or the Demon himself. She met Pretog’s curious gaze and wondered what he knew of the plan. I’ve told what I know. Now brother, you must share your knowledge.

As yet, I know nothing beyond what occurs in my own woods. The trees whisper of danger and the elves shudder in their shelters. The beasts eat as normal and quiver as the villagers come to kill for their evening meals.

You know of nothing else? Rynak’s bellow made the walls shake and small rocks embedded in the earth fell to the ground.

Xlana smiled. She could see Pretog wanted to cower, but if it was possible, he raised a pebble or two taller. One male postured against another.

Do you two have anything better to do? she asked. Rynak, my virtue is safe for you. You need not glare threateningly at Pretog. She glanced over at Pretog, who seemed to be enjoying the scene entirely too much. Nor do you need to posture for Rynak, brother. In this fight, we are all equals.

Be it so, Pretog agreed. Know you, sister, you are bleeding?

Oh, for mercy’s sake. I’d forgotten all about it. She brushed her fingers across her leg where Rynak’s tail had pierced her, then gasped. The skin closed and formed a seamless bond as if she’d never been cut.

You have the healer’s touch, Rynak murmured. I wondered if you knew.

Well, you could have told me, she scolded. Do you realize how annoying it is to learn of one’s gifts as a surprise?

Very well so, he said.

He would know, she realized. She was struck with a moment of empathy for her beloved dragon.

You have gifts? Pretog sounded and looked as if he were a child of six seasons, defeated because his annual tokens of age did not equal what he’d expected.

You do not? Xlana asked. How could this be? We are to fight this war with only the gifts of melding and healing?

Well… I have begun hearing things far beyond my woods, Pretog offered hopefully. The villagers talk, pass wind and I hear.

Wonderful, Xlana proclaimed. If the Demon of Fire passes wind, you’ll be the first to know.

CHAPTER FOUR

>

Rynak, Xlana and Pretog talked for several hours. As the day turned to evening, Rynak hovered dangerously close to grasping Pretog by the neck and shoving him through the hole, his dirty feet first. Was he to work with this petulant child? By the Gods! He was of mature size but childish of mind. Another thing bothered him. Pretog had yet to meet his mate. Surely the Gods would have arranged the bonding before the war.

Rynak and Xlana clashed frequently during the day. She’d called him jealous. He’d called her foolish for trusting Pretog before he was tried. Were they both right? He wasn’t surprised he was jealous. In his mind, Xlana had been his from the first day he’d seen her. The way she’d spoken of Karn had worried him. The way Pretog stared at her bothered him as much or worse. Would that the immortal take anatomy classes from another source, Rynak thought with a huff.

I take the hint, Rynak, Xlana said. The moons have risen, Pretog. You must return home.

To his surprise, Pretog offered no refusal. He allowed Rynak to raise him through the hole and left peacefully. Soon after, Xlana had her bed of leaves prepared and lay down. Was he mistaken or had she left room for him to lie beside her? He elected to face the issue boldly. She had after all, proclaimed them as mated several times during the day. He strode over, sheathed his claws and lowered his body to the stone floor. When she offered no resistance, he sighed with pleasure and spread his wing over her as a blanket to the cool night air. As she curled against him, he knew the Gods had blessed him. Within several seconds, he nodded off to sleep.

*

Rynak opened one eyelid, waking to the soft rubbing sound from beyond the walls of their cave. Smrrrrrr. The shake of the earth below them concerned him more than the sound. Whatever it was, it was perilously close. Xlana stirred beside him. He debated whether he should send her through the hole to Pretog or force her to endure a watery exit. His preference was to take her through the waters, but what if whatever was crawling through the earth had blocked their way out? The hole, he decided. He would not risk losing her.

What’s the matter, Rynak? Xlana murmured.

He could hear the lingering sleepiness in her voice, but she was cautious, prepared for bad news. He could feel it in the controlled stillness of her body, the rhythm of her heartbeat beginning to race with adrenaline.

We have company.

Big company, she agreed, her eyes wide and sleep forgotten. Send me through the hole and escape in the water. Better to face the dangers separately than the Gods lose one third of their defense.

Rynak didn’t have time to answer her. No sooner had she issued the order bearing the wisdom of a warrior that the wall opposite them fell to rubble.

What the—

He sympathized with Xlana’s inability to complete the sentence. What was this pitiful, monstrous creature before them? Not only did it smell worse than rotting fish, it was covered with mealy worms and crusted with stone fragments and sodden earth!

What are you doing in my cave? the creature demanded, rising to what Rynak could only dub as feet.

We did not know it was yours, Xlana said, stepping in front of Rynak as if to protect him.

A lass to defend a dragon? By the God of Earth, it canna be!

By the Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water, it can be, Xlana retorted. Her hands were clenched at her side and Rynak had the instant vision of Xlana sending a blast of lightning at their intruder.

Xlana, be calm.

Och, the dragon speaks. Are ye kin? Why does he seek to calm you as if you are important to him? Since when does a dragon lie with a mortal? She sent a pointed glance at the leafy bed and the still fresh imprints of their bodies.

Where we sleep is none of your concern. Xlana glared at the earth monster as if to pierce it in two.

But a dragon and a mortal. ‘Tisna done.

It is done, Xlana argued. And it will be done so long as the Demon of Fire continues to grow powerful and threatens our world.

Canna be. ‘Twillna be, not in my caves.

Rynak thrust a wing in front of Xlana, shielding her from whatever their visitor might deem a suitable response. They could, after all, be dealing with the Demon of Fire itself. Who knew? They still hadn’t learned anything of his appearance or his capabilities. Xlana beat on him, muttering curses against his lineage.

You shield her, dragon?

I protect my mate, he growled. My name is Rynak. I demand your name in reply.

Och. Spoken mighty for a trespasser, the earth monster said. I am Dykstra. Where do you hail from that a dragon chooses a mortal over one of his own?

Spoken as a possessive female, Rynak replied. My domain is the air and the water. Xlana comes from the land across the sea. Do you know the Demon of Fire?

What I know of him comes from legends of kinfolk. Dykstra shook dirt off her head as Xlana crawled from under Rynak’s wing. Her gaze narrowed on the two of them. He takes all forms. He is the master of deception. Neither mortal nor dragon can defeat him. Only the Gods can prevail against him.

Merciful heavens, Xlana cried suddenly. She broke free of Rynak’s hold and scooted closer to Dykstra. Peeking beneath what she’d thought to be a pile of dirt, she saw a slice of gold shining in the light from the cave’s hole. You’re a dragon! You bear the horn.

Xlana, it cannot be, Rynak protested. Does she fly? Does she swim?

Dykstra snorted. Silly male. Dragons come in all forms. I am an Earth Dragon, she confessed with a nod of her scraggly head. My time comes to choose a mate, but I canna find others of my kind.

Perchance you’re not supposed to, Xlana said. May I see your horn?

No! Dykstra moved backward, the clumps about her face concealing all but her eyes, green with flecks of gold dust that reminded Xlana of Czerick.

I won’t break it, Dykstra. That can only be done by your mate when you are ready, just as it did with Rynak and me.

Her spirits soared as Dykstra inched closer, her trust growing. Imagine it-an Earth Dragon! Just yesterday, they’d met Pretog, who was no doubt of royal blood. The color purple appeared to be significant for the Chosen Ones. Could Dykstra be the dragon they’d teased him about?

Have you met a woodsman named Pretog? Xlana asked.

What of Pretog? Dykstra demanded.

You know him, Xlana said with a smile. We met him yesterday, but he mentioned nothing of you.

The Earth Dragon heaved a rumbling sigh. He believes me nothing more than an earthmover. I am mud in his eyes.

Xlana observed carefully, a thought prevalent in her mind. When the Earth Dragon said Pretog’s name, there was a hint of hurt in her voice and something more…something that went deeper than mere words. But are you friends or enemies?

We are nothing, Dykstra said. Neither friend nor enemy. Nothing. He speaks to me and I to him, but there is no—

Love?

What can you know of love, mortal? Does your heart sing of a song you’ve never heard? Does your skin tingle with a mere pat of recognition? Mortals canna know of passion, beyond the huff and puff of breeding.

I know more than you may think, Xlana said. I knew at my first meeting with Rynak that he was important

special to me. When I touched his scales, I felt the heart beating inside and wondered the why of it. I’ve never known the ‘huff and puff of breeding’ as you call it, but I know if our shapes were the same, I would wish to know this feeling, this oneness with him.

Dykstra’s head bent to one side, her gaze steady and unnerving on Xlana.

Know me, Dragon. Allow me to touch you, to see inside your heart. Wordlessly, she edged closer to Dykstra, her hand stretched forth to clear the debris covering the creature’s head. Rynak huffed behind her, his feelings on the subject clear from the warm breath that blew against the material of her clothes. He huffed again as Dykstra and Xlana moved further into the light and Xlana’s blouse slipped off her shoulder. Calm yourself, my love. I am in no danger from either your primal urges or from Dykstra. >

She gently set aside clumps of clay, some smaller portions matted in surprisingly soft fur. Clearing the area where she’d seen the sliver of gold, Xlana gasped as a horn, smaller than Rynak’s, appeared and reflected in the beam of light from the hole above. Nervously, she touched a finger to the cool tissue of bone and performed a final cleaning about the point where it connected to Dykstra’s head. As she’d expected, there was a ring of purple surrounding the spiral horn. Thoughts and emotions rippled from the dragon to Xlana.

You were right, Xlana said. You are ripe. You have also chosen a mate, though you refuse to accept the word of the Gods. You wait for Pretog when this is neither your choice nor his to make. The Gods ordained your union long before you were conceived.

Dykstra grumbled, her words indiscernible. It didn’t make any difference. Xlana knew the dragon was protesting the union even as she breathed a sigh of relief at having her suspicions confirmed.

Curse my lineage all you wish, Earth Dragon. I know nothing more than my parents placed me with a sorcerer for my own protection. Rynak, you should welcome your sister. She will be helpful in our fight against the Demon of Fire.

You plan to wage war with the Demon? Dykstra bumped her head against the earth above her, causing the cave to shudder. Sorry, she said afterward. Why would you choose this task? It canna be done. She paused, her head tilted with puzzlement. The music.

We did not choose, Rynak answered. The Gods chose for us, just as they have done with you.

And Pretog, Xlana reminded them. I expect you will know more once the two of you are mated.

He willna mate with me, Dykstra said. A woodsman doesna choose a union with a clump of mud.

At that exact moment, the woodsman in question made a fateful step of his own. With a shout of Look out below! he slipped through the hole and fell-right on Dykstra’s horn, snapping it off like a twig beneath a forceful axe. Dykstra shrieked from surprise as Pretog howled with pain.

Safely distant, Xlana and Rynak exchanged knowing looks. The Gods had taken the necessary steps when two hearts refused to acknowledge the truth.

Dykstra! Know you nearly killed me? Pretog demanded once he stood and saw her. He picked up the horn and glared at it. Why assault my privates in this way?

I didna war with you. You fell on me! ‘Tis my fault you chose to jump without looking first?

Dyktra’s horn beamed with a light of its own, casting a golden glow about the cavern. Pretog stared at the object in his hand as it burned a trail of purple through his body. Dykstra froze in place, the clumps of dirt and earth creatures about her body falling away to expose the swirls of purple in her fur.

Merciful heavens, Xlana murmured to Rynak as they watched Dykstra’s true face become visible.

She was beautiful in a way all her own. Her black nose appeared damp, and lavender outlined the shape of her green half-moon eyes, which resembled the top half of a nutty fruit. Stubby legs began at the bottom of her belly, the width of a full-grown antzen tree, the height of a stump left after mortals cut one down for village use. While there was little hair about her legs, there were thick, darkened green lines similar to those on Pretog’s face.

Both creatures stared at the burst of light and then at each other. Disbelief mirrored in their faces as the truth of their situation was imparted in the beam that joined them.

Nay. Further curses flew from Pretog’s mouth in the strange language he’d used the day before. The God of Earth jests.

Xlana giggled and glanced at Rynak, who was doing his best to avoid laughing aloud.

You! Pretog whirled to face Xlana. Dare you laugh at me? His gaze narrowed on her with hostility. Knew you this would happen?

Rynak flipped his wing in front of Xlana again, and she bent the edge down to continue watching the newly mated and equally frustrated couple.

Touch my mate and your privates will not be the only part of you in pain, Rynak growled.

As a warning, it worked well. Pretog grimly turned back to face his new wife. So we be wed? he asked her. Be you happy with our lot?

She sneezed, blasting him with an undesired shower, then glowered at him. Would be better I was mated with a fellow earthmover.

Be you still wrathful about that? The lines of his face quivered in surprise, while the rest of him turned bright as clay.

You didna apologize. Instead, you called me worse: earth clod, queen of mealy worms.

Be I angry, he said by way of apology. His color deepened as if he was caught in a perpetual blush. Know you look much different now? He tilted his head to one side as if considering her for the first time. Nicer.

She sneezed again and Pretog suffered the blast in silence. Doesna matter, she said. The Gods may have chosen, but I have na.

Xlana glanced at Rynak and winked. He stared at the pair in open disgust. Children! He transferred the thought with a sigh.

Not children, my love. Simply fools who refuse to part with pride, she whispered.

So we face the Demon of Fire with two fools who act like children, he said in a thought. Our task grows harder by the moment. >

Xlana crawled from under Rynak’s protective wing…again. Rynak is right. You babble like fools and we have work to be done, she scolded the unhappy couple. Have you learned more of the Gods’ plan beyond that which unites you?

No more than I guessed before, Dykstra said. My hearing and smell have improved.

I’ll say, Pretog muttered.

Watch your tongue, mate, or I’ll—

He rose to his full height, daring her to take action. What? Sneeze on me again?

Och! She glared at him, stomped her foot, and the cave shuddered around them. I meant my gift of hearing and smell. Breathe wrong, miserable woodsman, and I’ll plant you in the roots of a tree.

Rynak entered the fray. Enough! Spittle at each other in private, for we have better things to do.

Dykstra agreed with a final huff thrown at her new husband. I have seen a vision of woods afire on both islands surrounding this loch. Bursts of flames upon the villages strike from the heavens. Hundreds of wounded: beasts, elves and mortals alike. The Demon of Fire seeks the two of you, she said, her eyes narrowing on Xlana and Rynak. Why is that?

Aye. The same dream be mine, Pretog said. Why, if there be six to fight, does the Demon demand your lives?

Rynak looked at Xlana before answering. Perchance we are the oldest, the longest mated. Our bond is strong, as is the knowledge imparted by our elders. Xlana holds the gift of foresight, melding and healing. I hold the same. ‘Tis the only thing that makes sense, to eliminate the strong. Remove the leader and the warriors will scramble.

The leader. Xlana’s body went frigid with fear and she felt urgency beyond any she’d ever experienced. An image of the damned elf flashed before her eyes. He was chasing Czerick’s essence about her house, trying to trap him in a woolen bag.

Rynak, I must go home, she cried. Czerick is in danger. The elf has found a way into our cottage and seeks to capture him. He cannot leave or he will be found. He’ll be powerless.

Then we go, Rynak said. I will fly you to the meadow beyond your village and you can enter without being seen.

Go I, too, Pretog requested. Know I the way of elves and woods.

The elf is turned, Pretog. He has powers unknown to us, Xlana said. Czerick warned me a servant of the Demon can capture me with a touch. It may well be the same with all immortals.

More reason that I go. If needs be, he challenges me rather than you.

Xlana worried her mouth with her fingernail and then nodded. It was the best plan for the moment. She glanced over at Dykstra, whose eyes were wide with uncertainty. Listen for us, Dykstra. We may have need of you. Rynak, my love, be careful. Disappear in the wind once you’ve dropped us. If ever I lost you-Or I you. His voice and gaze were full of tenderness. Out the hole and wade into the water, he ordered. I’ll be there soonest.

Hate I seawater, Pretog grumbled as the waves engulfed them beyond their knees.

Xlana smiled. I could become used to it, if it’s the only way I can stay with Rynak. Perchance I will grow gills that I can breathe as easily as he does within the deep.

He shook his head. Love sickens the brain. Then Rynak arrived and they were off. Know I now that I hate heights, too.

I can drop you anytime, Rynak reminded him.

Xlana laughed as she held on tight. Pretog’s complaints were not going over well with her dragon, but she was elated to see their world from Rynak’s perspective. The woodsman growled, but said no more.

Xlana looked up after Rynak had dropped them in the meadow, watching him disappear within the blink of an eye. He did it; he really could meld as he said!

Forward, Pretog said, pulling Xlana by the hand. No good to stand still.

Right.

She led the way from there, beyond the pile of stones marking the boundary between the villagers of one side of the island with the other. Years earlier, they had waged war and the devastation was beyond belief. Afterward, they’d agreed never to war with each other again. Xlana wondered if this would change with the Demon of Fire’s influence. It would be worth a trip to the other village to find out. Later, she decided. First she had to save Czerick and retrieve healing herbs and potions for the battle. If Dykstra were right, there would be many in need.

As they approached the back of her cabin, she could hear the commotion inside. She smiled despite her earlier worries. In her mind she could see that Czerick was leading the elf on a merry chase. Pots from the kitchen clinked together as they hit the wooden floor. She heard the grunts of the elf and could tell furniture was being shoved aside as he scrambled to keep up with Czerick’s essence.

I will meld with the wall to gain entrance. You come through the window, she said, pointing to the small opening that led to her bedroom. It looked big enough for him to fit.

From her position in the wall, she was afforded a better view of her enemy. Hairy ears dominated the dwarf’s face. Tiny, beady eyes stared in every direction at once. His wet red nose was high in the air as he sniffed wildly. Instinctively, she realized he sensed her presence. How did he do that? However done, it was not a good sign. Despite the stories to the contrary, she knew elves were not blessed with either good looks or intelligence. Their reactions were as instinctual as the elderbeast.

Ahh, Czerick. The dwarf’s voice sounded as if it came through his nose, and his ears still twitched around to catch every sound made. Your apprentice is here. She comes to save you. The Demon is pleased to capture two. His head turned in a circle as his body remained in one place. Come out from your hiding, Xlana. I know your tricks, just as I know you have not come alone.

Xlana remained silent, watching. She’d never had firsthand experience with an elf, let alone one who acted for the Demon of Fire. She prayed Pretog would remain hidden.

Surprised I don’t chatter as the others of my kind?

Absolutely, she thought. But what other tricks had he gained from crossing to the dark?

My eyes see beyond the ordinary, too, the elf said. You look mussed, mortal. I don’t understand what Karn wants you for, beyond that of breeding. You are comely enough, despite your rumpled state.

The creature scratched a half-circle in the wood floor with his pointy boot, surrounding her location in the wall. Before the line was complete, Xlana leapt from the wall and darted from the room.

The elf laughed, an evil sound filled with fiendish delight. So you know the dangers of the circle? More fun for me.

Xlana gasped. All along the floor were etched circles, each one capable of immobilizing her for capture. Inadvertently, she stepped on a line and it burned her toes as if she stood on hot cinders. She jumped to the charred remains of the couch and sighed with relief at the sight of Czerick’s essence.

You should not have come. Czerick’s bright light was red throughout, startling Xlana. Even he felt the danger. Our home is no longer a safe place for you.

Cease, old man! the elf rasped. Your sermons on good versus evil burn my whiskers.

Perchance burn I the rest of you, Pretog bellowed, bursting through the window. Your scratchy voice rattles my brain. Prefer I the mindless chatter of your kind.

A woodsman. The stout little elf was nearly beside himself with humor. To save a sorcerer, you bring a woodsman? He stared at Xlana with disbelief. What is he to do, drop a tree on my head?

Be you right, Pretog said. Perchance a wall is better? He leaned against the wall separating Xlana’s bedroom from the living room and the building trembled. Be done with your mission, Xlana. This creature and I play now.

She didn’t wait for him to finish. Dodging the lines on the floor, she made for the kitchen. She stuffed the sorcerer’s herbs and portions in woolen satchels, strung a rope around her waist, and bound the healing potions to her.

Toss one of those over me and take me with you, Czerick ordered.

A small piece of her heart dimmed with the loss of his light as the wool concealed his presence. She tied the satchel with the others around her waist. His protection was now in her hands. She could not fail him. She ran toward the door then screamed as a tiny, long-nailed, and furry hand clasped her ankle. The elf! He held her!

Pre-t-o-o-o-o-o-g!

Instantly her world changed. Air swished past her ears as if she passed through a whirlwind. Stars streaked in front of her eyes. Her own voice echoed behind her as log buildings blended together. They sped past the forest, and she landed with a thump on solid, pointy rock. Shaking her head, she tried to absorb what had happened. Had the elf swept her away as she imagined? Was it possible? Before her, the wooden tower mocked her very existence. The hairy creature kept hold of her leg and looked as surprised as she felt. His ragged nails dug into her skin, leaving tiny holes and purple streaks of blood. The color, she thought. How odd, that others flowed red, yet she flowed dark as nightshade. With each drop, she felt a loss, as if her purity was tainted.

A large booted foot stepped on the elf’s arm. She shuddered. Karn. Even as she ran a hand over her wounds and felt them close, she knew she would never be quite the same.

It is true then, Karn said. You bleed the royal color. I thought as much. The blend of our essences will create a race of strength. The heavens, earth and seas shall be ours to rule.

He rolled up his woolen sleeve, took his knife from its leather hold, and slid the edge over his skin. Xlana was captivated, yet frightened to her core. A streak of Nordic blue trickled down his wrist-the color of fire in its deepest, hottest form. Was he…? Could he be the Demon of Fire? His great hand clamped around her arm and the knife gleamed against the noonday sun.

She screamed and jerked away. Hard. But he held her fast. She kicked at him with all her might, but she felt as if she might as well be kicking a tree. No! I will never be bound to you!

It is too late, Xlana. You already are. I can hold you captive until the stroke of this knife penetrates your skin. And nothing, be it woodsman or dragon, can stop destiny.

She blinked as the knife came closer and closer, and she thought of her beloved Rynak. Rynak!

CHAPTER FIVE

>

Rynak swooped out of the mist, too fast for Karn’s men to sound the alarm. In the time it took to blink, Xlana saw her dragon shove Karn to the ground with his mighty talons, breaking her free. The dreaded knife clattered against jagged rock as Rynak clasped her around the waist and lifted her from the ground.

Whoosh! Spears filled the air as Rynak dodged and rolled to avoid them. Xlana’s stomach tumbled and she tasted bile with every move. Finally, she could hold it no more and was grateful they were facing downward as the contents of her stomach floated to the ground. She screamed in agony as a spear pierced her side. Her skin burned and when she placed a hand over the painful area, her fingers clashed with wood. When she pulled her hand away, it came away warm and sticky. Her eyes closed against the pain and the gusts of wind slashing against her face. Blissful darkness overtook her.

When next she awoke, Rynak’s pale gray eyes were burrowing into her soul. She could hear his prayers to the Gods from his mind to hers. She struggled to sit up, but he gently nudged her back down.

Stay quiet, my love. Pretog has pulled out the spear, but you must remain still for the wound to heal.

Her beloved dragon stood over her, a three-toed foot on each side of her, as the chills raging through her body began to still. She looked to the wound and noticed one purple toe nearly inside her, streaks of nightshade flowing from it to the hole in her side.

What—

Do not worry, Xlana. It was necessary. You have lost much blood, too much to heal yourself. Only together can we combat the poison of the Demon’s agent.

She understood and her heart skipped a beat. He’d pierced himself to restore her. Thoughts of love poured from her heart to his. But now I’ve tainted you as well, beloved. How much have we weakened our cause?

>

Rynak looked away. Burn the spear, Pretog. There must be no trace of Xlana’s essence for the enemy to use. He looked back at her and she caught a glimpse of his worry before he concealed it behind dark lashes. We should not fear what we do not know. The Almighty tells me we are strong, our bonds strengthened by the sharing of royal blood. Perchance we are merely acting on the destiny Karn spoke of, but did not fully understand.

His words and the passion behind them calmed her as no healing potion could. Czerick could tell them if it was truth.

Czerick, she shrieked, trying again to rise. Rynak nudged her back. We must release him. I might even be squashing him. Or perhaps I’ve lost him!

Nay. I cannot believe it possible. Pretog, please remove the satchels around Xlana’s waist. We are looking for—

Tell me not. Know I what you seek.

Surprisingly, Pretog’s touch was gentle as he tugged the rope free from around her, opening each woolen bag cautiously and peering inside. Come out, Czerick, he said to one in particular.

He can’t come out on his own, Pretog. You must turn the sack upside down, she told him. Gently.

Too late. Czerick dropped to the floor as heavy as a stone, his colors blazing from red to orange, then bright green. Oh, Gods, Xlana thought.

Act not with haste, sorcerer, Rynak growled. We need this warrior woodsman. You may turn him to toad after the battle.

Would that I could do so now, Czerick muttered. Tell me, dragon, that he will not touch my healing potions. A low sigh filled the cave. It is too late. Already the wort mixes with periwinkle. There was a pause as Czerick’s colors changed again to the brightness Xlana knew best. You are hurt, child.

She heard the pain in his voice, reminding her of the love they’d shared as father and daughter. Not as badly as I could be, Xlana answered, attempting to sit up again. This time, Rynak did not stop her. Her clothes were still sticky and moist, but her skin felt normal. She smiled up at her dragon and thanked him. Rynak healed me.

Czerick grunted. As he should. It would be what the Gods demand. The sharing of blood is the second seal. You must, however, change those clothes and burn them.

The second seal? Xlana asked. Of marriage?

Aye.

Xlana and Rynak stared at each other in silence. Her stomach turned upside down and she couldn’t help but respond to Rynak’s lopsided, beak twisting grin. It was true! The Gods had ordained their union.

Brought I… Pretog paused, his voice uncertain. Brought I clothes for you to change. When you disappeared with the elf, thought I to find female necessities.

His emphasis on female could not have been more masculine or full of disdain. Xlana chose to ignore the slam and took the clothes he offered.

Do we have water for me to bathe? she asked. I have need to wash the dried blood.

Hoist me through the hole and I will drop seawater down for you, Pretog said.

Never mind, boy, Czerick answered, his tone full of disdain. Turn your heads, lads, and Xlana can disrobe. There is more to my presence than meets the eye.

Rynak flipped up a wing as a curtain for Xlana’s privacy. She noticed he did not, however, avert his eyes while she disrobed. Within her soul, she heard his heart beat faster as Czerick rose above her and water flowed about her body. Her dragon wanted her, even in this form. Her pulse raced with the thought. She rinsed quickly and rubbed away the remains from her wound.

Thank you, Czerick. That is enough. Instantly, the water stopped and she dried herself, donning the fresh clothes Pretog had thought to bring. Once dressed, she kissed Rynak on his side and he lowered his wing with a saucy grin and a wink.

You wonderful beast, she murmured as she stepped toward the sacks taken from her former home. Peering into several, she kept one in particular and brought it with her, pouring some of the contents onto the clothes she’d just taken off, everything laying in the puddle left from her shower. Poof! With a click of her fingers, the entire pile burst to fire.

Well done, child, Czerick praised.

I learned from the master. She sent him a cheeky grin. Now, Czerick, there are things I must understand. I’m certain the others are eager to hear the knowledge you can impart. She glanced around the cavern at Rynak, Pretog, and Dykstra, who had apparently been digging again. Small clumps of earth clung to her purple striped fur. No doubt she’d played a part in bringing Pretog home safely.

Is Karn the Demon of Fire? Xlana asked. His blood was blue as the hottest fire.

Nay, child. The Gods say otherwise. He is but a mortal form, a tool of the Demon. Just the same, for him to bond with you, to mix your bloods or breed with you would have devastating results.

And the weakening I felt as the elf’s nails dug in my skin? Am I tainted? Have I passed this to Rynak as well?

The purity of your bond, that of love itself, he said, glancing between Rynak and Xlana, has greatly reduced the impurities from the dwarf’s touch. You may suffer a flux in your powers at times. ‘Tis a setback. He sighed and his essence changed to a dull gray. This elf must be found and destroyed. The powers granted to him by the Demon of Fire have been enhanced by your royal blood.

Xlana gasped. How? How do we destroy him? A clasp of his hand allowed him to transport both of us to Karn’s presence. When I was in the woods, all I saw of him or the other elves was a wave of air and swish of leaves as they moved for him. He saw me through the wall, Czerick. He draws circles that hold me captive.

Cease your chatter, child. You grant him more power than he deserves. I said his powers were enhanced. He is not invincible. His pointed glimmer shifted left then right as if he looked at everyone within the cave. It will take two to capture and kill him. He must be dropped to darkness and buried alive. Alone, he added after a pause. Nary a fresh twig, a beast, nor any other form of life can be with him or he will draw upon his companion’s life force. Be it one of you and he will be as strong as Karn

and as surly.

Xlana sunk to the floor. If a mere elf could have such strength, how could they win against the Demon of Fire? What other weaknesses does he have? And the others turned by Karn or the Demon himself, what of their weaknesses?

It depends. The Demon may only be destroyed by the power of the Chosen Ones, united as one. Normal elves will fall by a spear sprinkled with dandelion juice. Some can be bound by ropes made from the elderbeast’s tail or mane. If you choose a knife, it must first be blessed and washed with water from the Seas of the North. That is your task, Dragon. Only you can travel to the Seas of the North undetected. Woodsman-Pretog, he corrected Czerick. The dragon’s name be Rynak, sorcerer.

Czerick glittered with fury. Pretog, he amended, you are the best choice for gleaning tails from the elderbeasts. His sphere turned to face Dykstra. You are an Earth Dragon?

Dykstra nodded, her green eyes gleaming with pride.

You will be needed to create the holes to bury the enemy, he said. Dykstra nodded again. We will also need caves such as this to protect the innocent and to serve as healing chambers.

What of the other two Chosen Ones? Xlana asked. What she really wanted to know was what she could be doing, but one look at Rynak’s stern countenance and she held the question. He had obviously regained his perspective on why they were here.

When they arrive, we will know what they are capable of. Until then—

Where will we find them, sorcerer? Rynak asked.

From the sea, Czerick answered. You and Xlana are of the Heavens, evidenced by proof you may fight in any form and meld in any surface, whether it be air, water or any other matter no longer bearing life.

So she’d been right as to why she couldn’t meld within the sand. Her scalp tingled with a new awareness and pride. She’d discovered that tidbit of knowledge on her own. Once again, she felt the urge to ask what she could be doing to prepare for the war, but Rynak’s wing on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up in time to see him shaking his head.

No, my love, he transmitted silently. You cannot leave the cave for the time being. If you are so eager for danger, I’m certain it will present itself soon enough-within these very walls.

Xlana turned away in frustration. Blast him for reading her thoughts!

Czerick was still in his let-me-enlighten-you mode as he continued his dissertation. The Earth Dragon—

Dykstra, she corrected him.

Dykstra and Pretog are of the Earth, he said, bristling again and casting a glare at the dragon. It makes sense that the third pair will be of the Sea. Beware, Rynak. The Demon of Fire is the master of deception. Think twice as you encounter creatures of the deep, lest your trust lead you astray.

Agreed. Rynak looked longingly at Xlana, then he glanced over at the others. My journey begins. Take care of each other. Take care of my mate, he said with a distinctly husky tone to Czerick and Pretog.

Xlana rose and kissed his leathery wing and the silky scale covering his heart. She quietly whispered a spell of protection over him, granting him the wisdom and speed of the Gods. Then he was gone.

Pretog disappeared shortly after Rynak. Dykstra left not long after that to begin preparing caves on both sides of the island. Xlana paced, glum and aware she’d been left with no duties to perform. She earned an earful from Czerick in the process.

*

Rynak was nervous as he approached the Seas of the North. He’d been here before, but there was something different today. There was a sense of danger in the air and waters and he felt vulnerable. Alone. Had his new relationship with Xlana changed him that much? Every moment apart seemed a lifetime. He scowled and was rewarded with a mouthful of salty liquid. Not pleasant, he thought, not pleasant at all. The seas of this region did not taste as fresh or clean as those to which he’d become accustomed.

Even the species of life were different. Instead of the puffy blowfish he was familiar with, there were long snakelike creatures. Fish with large striking teeth glared at him with evil intent. He flashed the fierce ragged edges inside his own jaw. It wasn’t his normal time to hunger, but nothing had been normal recently. He was famished. Perchance his efforts to heal Xlana had hastened his need for food. He began to select his prey, relying on instinct to determine which species might be harmful, listening for warnings from within. It would not do for him to feast on an agent of the Demon of Fire and poison his system.

A three-ridged fish swam close, saw him, and swiftly turned directions. Rynak pursued, opened his great mouth and captured it, then chewed with haste. He did the same with several others of like kind, praising the Gods that he’d been blessed with a colony of the creatures to break his fast. His appetite satisfied, he concentrated on the task at hand. The three sacks safely tucked within the folds of his wings would carry enough water from the Seas of the North to purify the swords and knives needed to wage war on the Demon of Fire. Xlana had spoken a spell over each bag and dusted them with some form of gold dust to make them hold fluids without leaks. He frowned. Surely this liquid could not be the holy water Czerick had spoken of. It was murky, as if evil had expunged all the purity of this region.

Too deep in his thoughts, Rynak did not see the large fish that slammed into his side. He flipped over and cast a long look at the rude intruder. The foolish cretin swam past him. With a burst of speed, Rynak caught up and thrust the edge of his new horn hard against the side of the oddly shaped beast. Though it had the girth and rounded face of a witchwhale, the creature’s flippers were as gossamer as the gowns Xlana wore. As it faced him with a grim, ready-to-fight expression, Rynak made another discovery. On the tip of its head was the start of a horn. He could see purple rings where a youth horn had been broken off, the stubby start of second-season, perchance even third-season growth. A Sea Dragon!

He tamped down his hopes. Czerick had warned him to test beyond his emotions. The deceptions of the Demon of Fire were endless and deadly.

The Sea Dragon studied Rynak with its own hesitancy. Slowly it crept alongside him as its silvery eyes scanned every inch of Rynak’s body, nudging his folded wings with what resembled curiosity. The creature’s mouth formed a shape similar to a twisted smile at Rynak’s three-pronged tail. Then he spoke.

Rynak’s heart nearly stopped. The words were odd, tugging at a memory buried deep within. Where had he heard the language before?

The Sea Dragon turned to its side, its gilled nose fluttering in the cold water. He nudged Rynak again, this time a gesture of recognition, perchance even friendship…a relationship renewed as if long forgotten. He repeated his words of welcome.

Welcome? Why would he think that? Rynak searched through every memory he held, things his mother had said over the course of his relatively short life with her. The essence of a language sprang forth, clinging to his brain like the barnacles on several species of fish he’d encountered. Slowly, oh, so slowly, he recalled bits and pieces of the old ways, the stories of the Dragons of Talgari, the distorted murmurs and groans of Talgarian speech.

Have the years dulled the words of yer youth?

Though the stranger’s silver eyes shone bright with intelligence, his speech was slurred. Why? Rynak wondered at that. His mother had spoken the language fluently, but she’d never mingled the grunts nor gurgled from within as this creature did. Perchance it was a local dialect? Then again, he observed with an acute gaze, this Sea Dragon appeared to roll rather than hold his own against the mighty waves that tossed about them.

Aye, my memory of Talgari seems to fail me. Rynak lied. His knowledge of the ancient language returned with amazing speed. My mother, Queen Taalag of Planet Z’kahn, passed three glimmers ago. I thought myself alone, the last of our kind.

Be ye King then. Either way, yer lordship is wrong.

He burped and Rynak turned away. The odor was appalling, worse than rotting fish during orange tide season.

I was Faustio, the Sea Dragon said. No title other than ill-begotten son of Prince Whe’li. I was a product of his lechery. Me wife felt cursed with me distinguished honor.

Was? Rynak asked. Faustio sounded not only disoriented, but hateful of his lineage. A dragon of noble birth would never be so disrespectful. His concern rose to new heights. There were to be six to fight, three mated pairs. Perchance he had not found the right Sea Dragon? Or was he too late and Faustio had turned to the Demon of Fire? You speak in the past, as if you and all you hold dear have already crossed over.

Most have, he answered with a dismissive shrug of his flippers. Those still in this world lick their wounds from the Demon of Fire.

Rynak turned that comment over and over in his mind. Before him floated a being that should command and demand respect by his royal blood and size alone. Yet there was emptiness about the creature, as if he’d lost most of his substance in years past. The Demon has attacked your world?

Ye jest? Does yer memory fail ye, King Rynak? It was the second alignment, the War within Ice and Seas. This is twice we meet.

He felt as confused as Faustio looked, the dragon’s silk brows billowing in the waves above darkened silver eyes. The second alignment? The War within Ice and Seas? But the first alignment hadn’t happened yet! Rynak felt another tug at his consciousness, a vague whisper that Faustio was right. But how?

Yer younger than I recall, Faustio said with a tilt of his massive body. Why is this? Have yer wee ones fared well?

His children? Rynak was truly baffled and he did not like it. Not one bit. I am recently mated. We have not experienced the mystery of breeding.

Faustio laughed, a blast that shook the waters around them, spewing smaller fish to the far distance. That is rich, me brother! Yer an innocent.

A second blast followed the first, discomfiting Rynak more. Enough of this, Prince Faustio.

The Sea Dragon froze. No one has ever called me prince except ye.

It matters not how you were begotten. You are the son of Prince Whe’li and deserve the title. Should I presume your father and those before him have crossed over?

Faustio nodded. Many glimmers ago.

Then you are King Faustio. There can be no more of your father’s lineage. The Almighty speaks of there being only three dragons left. What of your wife?

Me wife be of no consequence.

Rynak narrowed his gaze on his newly found brother. A wife of no consequence? Have you children?

Two daughters untouched by their mother. I’ve raised both, one since birth.

Another puzzle, Rynak thought. According to legend the battle against the Demon of Fire is to be fought by three pairs of mates. I do not know how your situation changes this.

I am to face the Demon of Fire again? Faustio’s voice sounded hesitant. I am to expose me daughters to his evil? He paused. His silence spoke more than mere words could. No, dragon king, I will not lose more than I already have.

To come with me, to bring your daughters to meet the others, is to forfeit nothing. However, if the first battle with the Demon results in the end of the heavens, earth and waters, then you and those of your family will lose everything. He watched as Faustio considered his options, his opinion visibly swayed by Rynak’s logic.

We go then, Faustio said.

With a swish of his barbed fish tail, he was off. Rynak followed, his uneasiness gaining new heights as they swam through the murky waters. It had been a long time since the warmth of the sun had reached this deep. The liquid passing through his gills was cold and heavy, tasting of a dark sooty substance that made him gag. He could see no further than the end of Faustio’s tail inches from his face.

Where are we? he demanded.

His brother didn’t answer. Seconds later, they passed through the most amazing wall Rynak had ever seen. He’d never seen stone this dark, an impenetrable black boundary that seemed to begin where the sandy bottom joined the sea and end in a jagged ridge almost too far up to see. He had expected to ram the wall and bloody his face, but at a strange command from Faustio, the rock suddenly parted. It closed immediately behind them with a groan worthy of any dragon of Talgari ancestry.

Again I ask, where are we? he asked once they were inside.

Safe, Faustio answered.

None of the murky water they had passed through invaded the awe-inspiring haven before them. At the far end, a waterfall glided down from the dark stones above. Stairs encompassed both sides of the shimmering curtain. Why would there be stairs for a fish?

For a moment, Rynak wondered if his eyes betrayed him. He caught a glimpse of a young woman. Judging from Xlana’s age, this girl was barely fifteen seasons, if that-and walking on two legs. Within the blink of an eye, the same young woman’s legs were gone, replaced by a sparkling turquoise tail as she dove from the top shelf into the crystal clear pool below.

Papa, she cried as she noticed Faustio’s presence. Reaching the water’s edge, she lifted herself on the rocky ledge surrounding the pool, her fins instantly changing to legs. Giving Rynak a wide berth, she ran to her father’s side.

Only then did Rynak notice his brother’s transformation as well. Would there be no end to the surprises? Where moments before there had been the hulking form of a witchwhale with gossamer flippers, a man stood. On his back were the lavender wings of a butterfly matching those of the young girl.

You have the limbs of a mortal! Rynak shook his head as if to clear his mind of cobwebs. How can this be?

He studied the man beast with insatiable curiosity. Faustio had ears, though larger than Xlana’s tiny lobes. His nose was also larger and crooked, as if he’d run into the stone wall a few times too many. He had the stem of a mortal man, though neither father nor daughter appeared to notice their lack of covering. This was his brother-a Sea Dragon-yet he stood there in the form of a mortal, his smile full of love as he hugged his daughter. Long pewter hair, the color of the Northern Seas at dusk, hung below his shoulders. Faustio’s daughter’s hair was equally as long, but much lighter, as if bleached by the light that shone from an unknown source from above.

Faustio laughed. This time the sound was magical, a laugh that seemed to well from within the man’s belly and ripple throughout the rest of his body. For the first time, his brother seemed happy and Rynak’s heart lifted. The wreck of the beast he’d first encountered stood in stark contrast to the man before him in this magical place. Was it magic he felt beating in time with his heart? Rynak wondered.

Faustio’s daughter gazed at Rynak with wide-eyed skepticism. What he must look like to her!

Brother, he said to Faustio, is it possible for me to transform as you have?

The girl wrinkled her nose. Brother? Papa, are we related to this disgusting creature?

Faustio tsked. Child, it be unlikely his mate finds him as disgusting as you do. He has not learned of the change. He turned to face Rynak. Yes, me brother and friend. Ye can transform; ye have only to will it.

Rynak’s mind whirled. His heart raced within his chest. To be able to take mortal form…to appear before Xlana as her equal. He instantly thought back to the image he’d seen when he’d given Xlana his horn. The spotted man! His soul rejoiced. ‘Tis me and this is how it’s done! He could be with Xlana as the Gods had intended them to be. With all his might, he willed his dragon body to change, envisioning himself with mortal legs, arms that could hug Xlana with all the love he felt for her.

His exuberance was short lived. His bones cracked painfully and his head felt as if it would burst at any moment. Every inch of his enlarged body throbbed in agony. Was he dying? Would the transformation be fatal? That hardly seemed logical.

The first time is always the worst, Faustio coaxed. He stood next to Rynak and stroked the top of his head, a sympathetic smile on his face. Each time the pain lessons, as does the length of time for the changes to occur. Ye see, all of yer innards remain the same. It is only the outward appearance that reshapes itself.

They stayed connected thus for a moment…an eternity? Thoughts passed from one brother to the other, disjointed visions of Talgari, the families united in harmony. The threat of the Demon of Fire. The separation. The tears of all as they took one last look at each other then sought sanctuary to protect their young.

For the briefest of seconds, Rynak saw Faustio, wearing an expression of love as he looked toward his mate, who bore a remarkable resemblance to their daughter. The expression changed to wariness, then to despair as his brother’s mate turned to her husband with a fire burning in her eyes, a sword swinging in her hand. Faustio blasted, a burst of water spewing from his mouth; and she was gone, sent to the farthest reaches of the universe.

I could not kill her. Faustio sighed, his hand shaking as he continued to stroke Rynak’s head.

I see that, brother.

Rynak felt the pain in Faustio’s heart over the loss of his mate. He tasted the salty weeds of the deep that kept Faustio’s memories at bay. Nasty. He sensed the urgency Faustio felt to protect his young, his need to build this sanctuary within the sea, and the fears he held for the future. Could he ask Faustio to risk losing more? Was it his choice to make or had the Gods already spoken and were they doomed to obey? Rynak felt himself spiral out of control, his limbs too weak to hold him up. Faustio caught him before he hit the cool stone floor.

Thank you, brother. ‘Tis clear I need more practice at this. Rynak tried desperately to ignore Shu’Ni’s avid interest. She was completely unlike Xlana, who would likely turn away to grant him a moment to regain his decency. Instead, Shu’Ni’s searching gaze followed his every move, embarrassing him further as he found it difficult to balance on two feet.

Papa, what does this mean? You’ve never brought anyone to our home before. And you called him brother. How can a fish be related to a…a… What is he? Bird or water beast?

Neither, sweet Shu’Ni. He be dragon, like me. It isA part of the world our father never speaks of. The voice was feminine and youthful, but full of venom. As he never speaks of Shu’Lan, our mother.

CHAPTER SIX

>

Wrelan! Shu’Ni glared at her sister. Cast another hateful remark and I shall beat you myself. She spread forth her arms as if to protect both her father and Rynak.

He is vulnerable now, Wrelan murmured, perhaps unaware she had even spoken.

Rynak wondered who she was communicating with-herself or…her mother? Perchance the Demon of Fire himself? Whatever the case, this second daughter was not a trifle to be played with. She was dangerous to the alliance.

Wrelan, present yerself to the kitchen or anywhere out of me sight, Faustio ordered. He sighed heavily as she walked away. She is much like her mother in spirit.

That worries me, Rynak answered weakly. By the Gods, how he hated this new feeling of vulnerability. He pondered whether it would be more dangerous to take Wrelan with them where they would know what she was up to, or leave her behind, and have her hatching plots behind their backs.

Regardless of whether she goes, the warning will reach the Demon’s ears by moonlight. But I understand yer concerns and agree, brother.

Rynak didn’t need his sixth sense to read between Faustio’s words. You keep a servant of the Demon in your household? He couldn’t believe it. Wars have been lost by less.

She is me daughter, Faustio offered by way of explanation. The expression in his silver-gray eyes reflected his sorrow. She was born just before—

Your mate turned, Rynak finished for him.

Aye. I had hoped the seed was not planted in her, but now I fear the worst. I have heard or seen nothing of the Demon since the battle. Shu’Ni will see to it that Wrelan does not leave home before we do. Ye can rest until the sun reaches the lowest point near the east, but we must be gone from here before the moon’s rise or we will have eyes following us.

And what of you? Rynak asked Shu’Ni, his gaze narrowing.

She glowered back. My mother made her choice. I make mine. What she did was wrong.

His respect for the girl rose tremendously. He believed her. The proof was in her stance, the way her gaze met his willingly and without hesitation. Your involvement could prove dangerous, he warned.

If my father goes, I go.

And when I resume my disgusting form again? The half-bird, half-fish creature?

She giggled; a soft velvety laugh that fell over him like a mist. I shall contain myself for the sake of the cause. As for your mate, I see nothing disgusting or ugly about your mortal shape, she added with a smirk. I doubt she will either.

Shu’Ni! Faustio’s embarrassment was clear. He was blushing from the roots of his pewter hair to his toenails. See to yer sister.

Rynak felt his own form burn, embarrassed to his bones. The look Shu’Ni sent him was smoldering, filled with a woman’s knowledge and an invitation he dared not contemplate. Had he been wrong in calculating her age? She looked younger than his Xlana. He shook his head and when he glanced at her again, she wore an expression of female frustration, her required obedience reflecting in her face. He wondered briefly about her trustworthiness and how much she could be relied on during the upcoming war, then dismissed the thought. He had other more curious things to consider for the moment.

What did he look like? Did he bear the spots as in the vision? Leaning heavily on Faustio, he made his way to the pool of water. He had to see his reflection. Would Xlana be pleased?

Amazement rustled through his mind and settled in his soul as he gazed into the water. He looked…mortal. Dark hair as black as Xlana’s hung to his shoulders. His brows were the same color as hers, but thicker. The speckled V on his forehead matched the darkened spots on Xlana’s head. Praise The Almighty! Pale lavender eyes reflected back at him with the tiniest touch of gold in their depths. He wondered if it was a distortion of light and whether Xlana would like him in this form. Enough for her to want to breed with him?

Look, Papa, at his eyes, Shu’Ni cried. He thinks of his mate. I’m certain of it. Look how his eyes resemble the color of sea urchins during breeding season.

Rynak choked. Is that good?

Faustio coughed and turned his daughter’s head away. He swatted her behind and told her to seek entertainment elsewhere. It would not do to have yer mate and me daughter fight over ye, brother.

I did nothing! Rynak protested.

Sometimes that be enough for females.

Rynak thought his dragon brother spoke with ages of experience and wisdom. Yet he appeared to remain alone. Why? He pulled his thoughts back to his reflection, thinking he held as many muscles as Pretog, perchance more. Good. Very good. His legs were sprinkled with dark hairs, his chest marred with a darkened scar. It lay upon his skin where he’d been pierced with a spear while in dragon form. So it carried over to this form, too. Interesting. Would Xlana find it repulsive? The thought of her brought lightning through his veins.

Ye will either have to cease thinking of breeding or return to dragon form, brother. Yer giving me daughter the shivers. He pointed upward to the rocks, guiding Rynak’s gaze, then chuckled as Shu’Ni quickly whirled and ran.

Rynak glanced downward, feeling the heat below his waist, an urge he was powerless to stop. His stem was sturdy, surging with a life force of its own. By the Gods!

Faustio shoved him into the pool and Rynak sputtered as his head rose above the frigid water.

I trust yer cooled off now? Faustio asked. Rynak nodded. Good, then go back to dragon form so we can talk without female ears listening.

Between the icy pool and Shu’Ni’s unwanted attentions, Rynak was too uncomfortable to disagree. Climbing to the rocky edge, he lay there shivering and willed his form to change. As before, there were noises of bones cracking and streaks of pain as his external skeleton transformed. But as Faustio had said earlier, not only was the pain less than expected, the length of time for his transformation was much shorter.

Can I be changed against my will? Rynak asked his brother. What if the Demon of Fire had the ability to force him into a vulnerable state?

Aye, under certain circumstances. Or ye could be deceived by illusion.

Explain. He was curious. There was more than a thread of warning in Faustio’s words; there was personal experience.

If yer youth horn should fall into the hands of the demon ye will become mortal instantly-unless ye have offspring. Even then, it may deform ye as it did me. Faustio shook his head sadly. Me wife didn’t know that when she stole me horn for her new master. And her hate for me ran deep. She called to me for help and I could not reach her in me larger form so I made the change. He sighed deeply. It was a trick. I still bear the scars. He turned around for Rynak to see the ghastly streaks of purple and black against his silvery skin. The claws of a demon’s servant can be as wicked as the flash of fire from the Demon himself.

And still Faustio had refused to destroy his wife. Could Rynak have done so, if the situation had involved Xlana? He honestly didn’t know.

Ye brought satchels for the water?

Rynak was grateful for the change of subject. He nodded and pointed to where they’d been left when he’d undergone his transformation.

Fill them from the pool, Faustio said. This is the only place in the Seas of the North left untainted.

Rynak picked up the sacks and bent to the level of the water before the next obvious question hit him. How did you—

My gift is to move things. Faustio had turned back around, so Rynak had no clue as to his thoughts. Aye, I feel the question there in yer head. Could I not have moved the wall of rock to release me wife without exposing meself to danger? He shook his head in sorrow. Love is what gets ye, boy. Yer heart takes over yer head and ye jump, think later.

And what of your daughter in this battle? he asked. Would Faustio place himself in jeopardy, risking the outcome of the war to save Shu’Ni?

Make no mistake, brother. I do what I must to save me girl. He rubbed his hand over his stubbly chin. But I am wiser this time. If I am the cause of losing the war, I lose her anyway. This time I think first and then act. I lost more than me wife the last time I faced the Demon.

Rynak stayed silent, his thoughts sober as he filled the bags.

I have spent far too many years gorging on the weeds to forget the pain, the loss of kin and self-respect. It be high time I faced meself. I cannot turn fin and flee anymore.

Faustio appeared a pebble taller when Rynak’s gaze captured him again. The slur in his voice had disappeared during their conversation. There was a new aura about him now-as if he’d dropped twenty seasons from his life. Determination and regained pride emanated from him and Rynak caught a glimpse of the dragon Faustio had been in the past. He would be a formidable opponent against the Demon of Fire and Rynak was proud to fight beside him.

They spent several hours discussing simple things while Rynak rested and regained his strength. He refused to allow the subject to veer toward the war at hand. Sanctuary or not, he could not allow knowledge to be passed to the wrong hands.

Shu’Ni! Wrelan! Faustio called out. It is time.

Shu’Ni came running while Wrelan lagged behind. That one was trouble, Rynak was sure of it. He wondered how his brother would deal with her.

Shu’Ni, we go. Faustio smiled at his daughter, his love tangible within his gaze. Know ye now that whatever the end holds, I love ye. Ye do me proud. He turned to his other daughter. A flicker of pain glimmered in his eyes and then it was hidden. Wrelan, know ye now that whatever the end holds, I love ye. I have always loved ye, despite what ye think. But know ye this also, choose for the Demon of Fire or the ways of yer mother and I’ll destroy ye. I’ll lose ye in death before I see ye take a vow of damnation.

Rynak felt the wave of hesitation surrounding Wrelan and wondered if he was wrong about her. He prayed silently that he was and Faustio would not have to honor his painful oath. Wrelan shot them both a look so full of venom that she could have been a poisonous sea snake. He knew then it was probably too late. Her decision had been made. But if she must die, it would come at his talons, not by the actions of her father. He and Faustio shared this unspoken thought before Faustio transformed to dragon. The wall before them opened, exposing the dark inky water kept at bay as if by magic and Rynak tucked the sacks of holy water safely within his folded his wings.

Faustio led the way, followed immediately by Shu’Ni. Look out for yer sister, lass, he told her. Be sure she follows.

Rynak lingered a second, eyeing Wrelan who stood hesitating near the wall. One swift swipe of his talons and she would be gone, her evil ended for all eternity. He stretched his claws preparing himself for the blow. But when the moment came, he held himself back. No. If there was still a chance she could be saved-Czerick might know of a way-then he owed his brother that much. He turned away from her, her hatred an uneasy prickle in his back, and followed the others. The wall closed behind him and Rynak felt the earth beneath him shudder and the seas toss him about. Faustio and his kin would never return to this place.

As they passed to clearer waters, Rynak allowed the touch of moonlight to warm him. He glanced upward and gasped. The first moon’s orbit had changed. The war had begun.

*

Wrelan was devastated by the thought of leaving home. But this terrible new dragon-Rymak? Rynak? Whatever his stupid name was-had persuaded Papa to go to some awful place and fight the Demon of Fire. And Shu’Ni, Papa’s little pet, followed like an obedient dolphin pup. She could have stayed in the sanctuary if she’d wanted to, but no. Precious little ShuShu wouldn’t dream of going against Papa’s wishes.

Wrelan glanced furtively at Rynak and suppressed a shudder. He looked back at her with merciless gray eyes and flexed his claws as if he were going to kill her. It was all she could do to keep from screaming.

I hate him, Wrelan thought. She glared at the dragon and he turned a contemptuous shoulder toward her, then he left. I hope the Demon of Fire eats him.

She clasped the bag containing her few treasures against her chest as her father prepared to seal the cave behind them. He meant to destroy their home! A tear slid from her eye and mingled with the murky, dark water. If only she could tell Papa how she really felt: afraid, confused, and angry. She couldn’t bear to watch as her home closed against her. Nobody would miss her for a few moments. Silently, she swam away into the gloom and felt for the small knob of rock she’d discovered long ago. Her hand closed over it and twisted it firmly to the right then up. The door of her own secret sanctuary slid open.

The little bubble of rock was dim and quiet. It was the one place where the voices couldn’t go. Once the door slid shut behind her, Papa’s distrustful scolding, Shu’Ni’s bossiness, and even her mother’s spiteful thoughts against Papa were silenced. She sank down on the sandy shelf that was just the right size to hold her and curled up, resting her cheek against the warm mossy wall. A tiny spring bubbled in one corner, its gurgle a soothing murmur. Minute phosphorescent creatures glowed in the water and streaks of mica in the rock sparkled in their greenish light. She sighed in contentment. Shu’Ni and Papa had never discovered this place. They thought she was up to no good when she disappeared, sometimes for hours at a time. Wrelan smiled, thinking of how she’d fooled them. No matter how hard her sister slapped her, she had never told this secret. Her eyes felt heavy with weeping. She was very weary. Slowly, the magic of the cave drifted over her and she fell into a deep sleep.

She woke with a start and knew at once that she’d slept far too long. The light from the little luminous creatures had dimmed and the mica in the walls gleamed darkly. She jumped up and hurried out the door and into the sea. The water was quiet. She could feel none of the vibrations that signaled the presence of her family. She swam as fast as she could, guessing at the direction they’d taken.

Papa! Shu’Ni! She sent the thought desperately. Where are you?

There came no answer-not even a threat from Shu’Ni that she’d beat Wrelan if she didn’t hurry and catch up. Each breath was painful, the spasms in her side amplified by fear. She was alone in this dreadfully dark sea. She’d never been far outside their sanctuary, let alone by herself in this eerie black ink that reeked of danger.

They had gone without her-they had left her behind, not caring whether she lived or died. Did Papa think so little of her? Were his words of love just meaningless drivel? Perhaps her mother spoke truth when she said Papa’s heart was made of stone.

Wrelan turned around and swam slowly toward her cave, praying she was going in the right direction. Several moments passed, each filled with terror as she considered she might have gotten herself turned around. Would she be eaten before she found her way home? Faustio’s dire warnings filled her head. Don’t leave the sanctuary without me to guide ye. There be too many evil ones lying in wait for ye.

She sighed with blessed relief as she felt her way along the remains of the stone wall. She’d found her cave! Once inside, she sat on the shelf of rock with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on them. She tried to think what she should do, but everything was jumbled up. Memories and feelings assailed her from every direction, while her father’s last words repeated endlessly in her mind.

But know ye this also, choose for the Demon of Fire or the ways of yer mother and I’ll destroy ye. I’ll lose ye in death before I see ye take a vow of damnation.

A vow of damnation, she thought. Had her mother taken this vow? Was she now a creature of the Demon of Fire? Wrelan had never known her mother’s touch. Could she, Wrelan, be the Demon’s seed?

Her heart refused to believe it, pounding inside her chest as if demanding she listen to it. It can’t be true, she muttered. Mama would never—

Suddenly, she was filled with resolve. She would show Papa and Shu’Ni and that awful Rynak. She would find her mother and learn the truth. And if she was this Demon of Fire’s seed, perhaps he would love her as Papa loved Shu’Ni. An unwelcome thought struck her. What if the Demon was hateful and had Mama under his spell? For long moments she considered the possibility. Then I’ll rescue her, Wrelan decided, and take her to Papa. We’ll be a family again. And if Papa’s heart was truly made of stone as her mother had said-if he refused to accept her and Mama-she’d bring Mama here to this cave and they’d live together in peace.

She opened the stone door and peered out, shrinking from the cold, silent darkness of the water. Courage, she told herself. She turned her thoughts inward, trying to decide which direction to take. Something seemed to pull her toward the east. That must be where the Demon’s palace lay. She turned left and swam, refusing to look back.

*

Faustio sealed the walls of his home and turned away quickly, swimming strongly with the others through the murky water. His thoughts were troubled and he swam for a while without seeing his surroundings. They were a long way from the cave when he noticed his younger daughter’s absence.

Shu’Ni, where be Wrelan? he asked, his thoughts sharp with worry. I told yer to look out for her.

She’s coming, Papa, Shu’Ni replied. She’s just lagging behind to slow us down.

Faustio caught the unusual hint of sulkiness in her mind, but he let it pass. Poor lass must be fretting for her home. He turned and sent out a blasting roar of thought. Wrelan, hurry yerself, yer troublesome little wretch. Yer can’t fool us into waiting on yer so the Demon can catch up with us.

Rynak, swimming ahead, turned around. What is it, Faustio? Is Wrelan not with us?

She just be lagging, brother, Faustio replied.

Are you sure? Rynak asked. I cannot feel her presence.

Faustio stopped swimming, his senses questing the dark water behind them. No more can I, now yer mentions it. Shu’Ni, are ye sure yer sister be following?

How should I know? Why is it always my task to mind the spiteful brat?

Don’t use that tone to me, girl. I be your father, Faustio roared. He felt Shu’Ni’s distress at once. Ar, lass, I be sorry. We all be upset with leaving home and all. Wrelan can’t be far behind. I’ll go back a little way and find her.

No, Rynak said. The whispers of The Almighty speak of danger. To return is to risk falling into the hands of the Demon. I fear Wrelan is already with him.

Faustio’s loyalty to his daughter warred with the needs of the alliance. Hadn’t he seen signs of Wrelan following her mother’s path? What of the hours she spent away from home with no answers for her absence? Faustio sighed, a long string of bubbles rising from his gills. You may be right, brother. Or perhaps she be hurt or dead, crushed in the fall of rock when I sealed the cave. He thought he felt a twinge of satisfaction from Shu’Ni, but it was gone before he could be sure. What was going on with her?

Come brother, we must hurry, Rynak urged. I understand your distress, but whatever has become of Wrelan, it is out of our hands for now.

He swam forward strongly and Faustio turned to follow, running a loving hand along Shu’Ni’s shoulder. It be not yer fault, lassie, he said. Forgive me for shouting at yer.

Of course, Papa, she replied.

He took one last lingering look at the sea behind them before he followed Rynak and Shu’Ni. There was no hint of Wrelan’s presence. One way or another she was lost. Truth be told, he wasn’t certain how he felt about his missing daughter. If she were dead, he would be missing another part of his soul. But if she was still alive, she was bound to cause him endless pain and trouble. Just like her mother.

CHAPTER SEVEN

>

The first moon changes orbit, Czerick murmured within the quiet of the cave. His constantly moving points of light cast a glow like stars in the night sky. The war begins.

All had returned, save Rynak and the sea pair. Xlana wondered if he’d found his dragon brother or sister and if he was safe. By the Gods, she hated the waiting and the silence.

Och, I’m certain he is well, Dykstra said, her gaze sympathetic and a bit watery. It’s just a wee matter of time before he arrives.

Xlana nodded, her tongue frozen with words she could not say. Why hadn’t Rynak contacted her? Her soul felt his life force, but her mind and heart were at war over his safety.

Rynak, speak to me, she begged.

No reply. She slammed her hand against the wall in frustration. Stupid, she thought afterward. Her only accomplishment was to splatter mud over her arm and clothing.

Silly female, Pretog scoffed.

She glared at him and flicked a glob of the slimy remains in his direction.

Children! It will not do for you to bicker amongst yourselves. We have greater problems at hand. There was no mistaking the worry in Czerick’s voice as he floated about the cavern. Let me see. We have knives, swords, spears…

Smelly livestock we have, Pretog cut in. He had made it well known he felt put upon to breathe the same air as the tethered elderbeasts and various geese wandering noisily amongst them.

You owe your thanks to Dykstra for your ability to eat, Xlana said. And we have you to thank for the edible fruits and vegetables, she added to lessen the pain of her chastisement. All of which will make fine soups for the refugees and wounded.

Healing powders, poultices, Czerick continued, returning from a second of three corridors Dykstra had added since morn. Did you get the cloth I asked for, Pretog? We’ll need it for bandages.

Aye, the woodsman answered. Know you that one villager nearly killed me as I stole from her wash basket.

Czerick chuckled. Yet you are here to tell the story.

If only Rynak were here to tell his, Xlana thought. She threw the power of her mind into an effort to contact him. Rynak, speak to me. Where are you?

>

Closer than you think, my love, he answered as he surfaced from the water and entered the cave. And I bring family.

Xlana surveyed him hungrily, thankful for the sight. He appeared healthy and whole, despite her worst fears. As he approached, she covered the remaining distance between them and flung herself against his turquoise scales, releasing pent up tears. She was comforted by the feel of his wings surrounding her.

You cry, my love?

It’s been two days! She pulled away and looked into his pale gray eyes lined with a hint of lavender, not liking his apparent amusement. She pounded his chest with her dirty palm. You could not have sent a thought?

It was dangerous. I could not risk either of us being found, nor could I risk the lives of my brother and his daughter.

Pretog’s Mighty Antzen! forced her to focus her attention on the newcomers. Yet she remained as close as possible to Rynak. Is he some form of witchwhale? she asked.

I am a Dragon of the Sea, as ye know well, Xlana. You look beautiful, albeit younger than I remember.

Rynak? She searched his thoughts for an explanation. What does he mean by younger than I remember?

I’ll explain later, he said.

Holy Atlantis! The Sea Dragon looked exasperated. Is there no one here who foresees the future?

I do, Dykstra replied. You are King Faustio of the Seas of the North. The Earth Dragon’s eyes narrowed upon Shu’Ni, her glare hostile and suspicious. Why do you bring her? She isna your mate.

She be me daughter, Shu’Ni. Me mate be lost to me.

Aye, your mate is lost, Dykstra agreed. But we risk further loss at the hands of…

Xlana wanted to ask her to continue, but Dykstra chose that moment to turn away and refused to say anything more.

Demand I that you complete your thought, mate, Pretog said. Be we in danger?

Yer question lies unanswered, Faustio said. As it should be. The wars be in separate kingdoms and are fought differently. One has naught to do with the other.

Wars? Xlana turned this puzzle around in her head for several minutes, until she was faced with an entirely new question. The water beast changed before her eyes! One second he was floundering like a fish stranded on the shore and the next…he was as mortal as one of the villagers…and naked. She gasped and almost fell to her knees then she hurriedly turned away, her face hot with embarrassment. >

By the Gods, Sea Dragon, your daughter is beautiful!

Pretog’s exclamation was quickly followed by a slap of mud. Xlana glanced over at him, giggling at the sight of the woodsman with a clump of soggy muck atop his head and Dykstra’s satisfied grin.

Earthmover! Pretog gasped, scooping mud from his hair and eyes. May not I even look at another without your interference?

Tree climber! Dykstra replied. Best you remember the Gods have spoken.

Faustio chuckled. As has yer wife, he said. I see ye two have not come to terms yet. Ye be much different than I remember. This should be most interesting to watch.

Czerick tsked and dropped cloth on Faustio’s head, then on his daughter’s head. It would be best for you to cover yourselves. Too much drool and the woodsman will grow roots.

Xlana laughed until a third cloth was dropped on her own head. She sputtered as she drew in the itchy sheet with her breath.

I think he meant that for me, Rynak said, pulling it off of her and wrapping it around his waist.

What the-She could no more finish her sentence than move the hilltop on the other side of the loch. She backed away uncertainly, even as her gaze was drawn to the intoxicating male beside her. Rynak?

The speckles on his forehead matched her own and his dark silky hair was a shade lighter than hers. The vision she’d been given-it was him! Pale lavender eyes stared into her own. Their thoughts mingled, unheard by the others.

Please end my suffering and tell me that I meet with your approval.

I will, my dragon…er…once I can breathe again.

He laughed. Tis much the same way as I felt at first.

You thought yourself so handsome it stopped your breath? ‘Tis like a man. > The smile at her lips belied her slur against his character.

Nay, vixen, he said. I thought only of the wonder that I could do this. He pulled her yielding form against him. They matched perfectly. And this. He gently lifted her chin and touched his lips to hers.

Time ceased to exist, as did their surroundings. Xlana felt as if she was melting and being reborn. Hungry. Restless. She shifted against him and felt both hearts beating as one. Her breath was his and his breath hers. Was it possible to be so complete she could not tell where she ended and he began? Strong arms encircled her, enclosing her in a haven she never wished to leave. His lips demanded and she gave…or was it the other way around?

The splash of water over their heads left them both sputtering, yet neither would give up their hold on the other. Stunned, they looked up and blinked at Czerick’s essence.

About damn time, he growled and skittered off. We have a war on our hands and all you think of is breeding.

Rynak turned reluctantly toward Czerick. Breeding was exactly what was on his mind. He wanted nothing more than to carry Xlana to a separate chamber and finish what they’d started. But the sorcerer’s words were all too true; there was a war at hand.

We have left a dangerous enemy at our backs, Rynak said. Faustio’s daughter Wrelan slipped away from us and I fear she is a creature of the Demon.

Hmmmm. Let me see, the sorcerer replied. Glowing purple and green with random glints of gold, he spun and flashed for many heartbeats, shooting long starbursts through the air around him. Then he wavered, settling back into his normal transparent glow, his disgust apparent. I cannot tell, he said. The girl is under a powerful aura that even I cannot breach.

Rynak glowered. I knew I should have destroyed her, but sentiment prevented me. If the chance comes again, I shall not be so foolish.

Xlana glanced at the Sea Dragon, who was deep in conversation with Dykstra. Poor Faustio, she said. Is there no doubt, Czerick?

Very little. There is one who may know the truth, but we cannot reach her at present.

Who is this person? Rynak demanded.

The Records Keeper, Xlana whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. But you said—

I said she may have passed on to her next life. The Gods reveal only what they want us to know and only when they want us to know it, Czerick replied. He changed the subject too quickly to Xlana’s way of thinking. You have seen the moons? he asked Rynak, who nodded grimly. An unholy glow surrounds the first and it has changed its orbit. We must prepare for the Demon’s attack, which I must remind you can come at any moment. I suggest a council of war.

*

Lovesick fools, Dykstra thought as she watched Xlana and Rynak try their best to follow the mostly one-sided conversation. They were more interested in each other, stealing glances and exchanging smiles. Och, they were easier to deal with as immortal and dragon! Though Rynak was much more eye-catching in his mortal form….

More than once, she’d thought of blasting Czerick with a burst of cold wet air and sending him on a crash course with the cave wall. Och, how the sorcerer did love the sound of his own voice. Of course, most of what had been said so far was a repeat of what they’d already covered. Pretog had the gift of communicating with animals; he could blend in with his surroundings with a change of colors and the blink of an eye. He and Dykstra both have the gifts of foresight. Blah, blah, blah.

Impatient and tired, she slipped to the ground and slid her feet under her body. Faustio glanced over at her and winked. She did not wink back. This…Sea Dragon turned man held too many secrets. His attitude since he’d arrived was puzzling; he’d repeatedly acted as if they were the tightest of friends. Why? It was true she’d seen glimpses of him in her visions of the future, but nothing to indicate their souls were entwined in any other way than warriors thrown together in the same war. Yet when he cast a glance in her direction, his eyes spoke a different story.

Dykstra forced her attention back to the conversation. Finally, one of the others had begun asking questions. It was her own lecherous mate!

Know you, Czerick, that we have not heard the value of Faustio and his beautiful daughter. What of their gifts and how aid they in this fight?

Dykstra swallowed a lump of pure misery as she watched Pretog stare in open awe at Shu’Ni. She was beautiful, yes, but was she to be of use in this war? Och, if Faustio didna stop his daughter from batting her eyelids and fluttering her wings in front of Pretog, she’d…. A pebble from the cave roof fell and landed squarely on Shu’Ni’s head. The girl sent a glare hot enough to fry Dykstra as if she was a cleaned and cut elderbeast ready for the cook fire.

Dykstra shrugged. I didna do it. She followed her half-hearted apology with a soggy sneeze that covered Pretog and Shu’Ni both. Sorry.

A blasted hairy beast with an attitude, Shu’Ni muttered as she wiped herself off.

Sea Witch, Dykstra shot back.

With a wisdom befitting his elder years, Faustio jumped into the conversation and drew the attention from the warring females. To answer Pretog, me gift is moving things and searching the hearts and minds of others with a glance. I can also change to water, a helpful solution to put out fires. But against the fire-bolts thrown by the Demon, it can be hazardous or deadly to meself.

Move I things, too, Pretog said. Why would the Gods require two with the same gift?

Faustio cleared his throat. I move large things. Walls tumble or form at me whim. Can ye do that?

Dykstra stifled a giggle at Pretog’s dismay.

And yer daughter? What use have we of a swimming butterfly?

Ar, woodsman, ye try me patience. Like me, she moves things. And she travels with a mere thought. One moment she is here, the next she is wherever she chooses. A useful talent, would ye say?

Aye, if she’s of a mood to flee, Rynak said.

Shu’Ni bolted to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. From where Dykstra sat, there was no way of ignoring the heated disdain in her glare at every one of them. Dare you to think me a frightened schoolfish? I came, didn’t I? she yelled. This be your war, not mine. There be no price on my head. I have none to avenge. She stared pointedly at her father, then at Rynak. You came for us, bird beast. Would serve you well to remember that.

An uncomfortable silence filled the cave. Even the beasts and fowl were silent as if they were in deep thought-or speculation. How far could they trust Shu’Ni? Dykstra wondered.

Faustio pulled his daughter down, forcing her to sit once more. Ye will do what ye must, lassie. I know yer heart to be true.

The obligatory words that should have come from everyone else never came. No one agreed with Faustio, nor did they thank the girl for coming. Why should they? None of the six came to this war of free choice. Each was chosen for the task and acted accordingly. But what of Shu’Ni? Was she chosen by the Gods?

Dykstra observed father and daughter for much longer than necessary. There was something out of place between them, but she couldna catch the fleeting thought. Perhaps it was the way Shu’Ni shook her father’s hand off her shoulder. How odd. The physical affection of families seemed lacking from their home. His action spoke of love, yet the girl was prickly. Dykstra saw the Sea Dragon frown. Perchance it was merely stress resulting from new surroundings, new people, the fact they battled an unknown Demon? Or maybe she was reading too much into the fact Shu’Ni wouldna meet Faustio’s gaze, her eyes closed to all as if she was afraid others could read her emotions by the ever-changing color of her wings.

Dykstra wondered if any of her kin had noticed how brightly the girl’s wings shone when she was either frustrated or angry. She had sensed the girl’s anger since her arrival, especially when Rynak had turned his attention to Xlana. The other fluctuations came when she was openly grasping for Pretog’s wandering gaze. Och, how she’d love to drop gallons of mud on the pair of them!

Aye, there you have it, children, Czerick said. If we’re in open war and face the Demon himself, Shu’Ni could be useful in thinking herself behind him to lop off his head and end this bloody war. And the Gods speak of Faustio as a proven warrior. His ability to move things or put out fires will be invaluable. He paused for a breath. Add this to the four of you with the ability to meld or blend in your surroundings and we have the makings of a fine opposition.

Seems we be more suited for flight or hiding from the enemy, Pretog muttered.

That only brings me to the final point, woodsman. Now we must master the use of weapons. I place you in charge of this, since you appear to be both interested and capable in this field.

Pretog puffed up under what he perceived as praise. Dykstra looked away and fought the grin that tugged at her lips. She’d noticed the subtle way Czerick had said the words in just the right way to be considered either insult or praise.

Pretog began his instructions with a burst of renewed energy.

Yer man seems to work his training different between female and warrior, Faustio said as he sidled up next to Dykstra. And ye seem to prefer being a dragon instead of taking on mortal flesh. Would it not be better for all if ye transformed and let yer man know what he’s missing?

Dykstra stared pointedly at the older man. What did he know of her mortal form? Should she trust him? Rynak says you have the knowledge and can guide me. Why, old man, would you come to my aid? Do you fear for your daughter’s heart?

Me daughter acts as she pleases.

She willna listen to you? She doesna recognize the authority of the Gods in the choosing of a mate?

Yer talkin’ faith, child, Faustio said. ‘Tis a renewed thing in me life and not something practiced since both me girls were wee ones.

You lost your faith when you lost your wife, Dykstra observed. Her betrayal became the betrayal of the Gods.

Ye see fair good with yer vision, Earth Dragon. Me thanks for keepin’ yer sights to yerself.

I will do so for as long as it doesna hurt the others or cause us to lose this war, Dykstra warned. If your daughter doesna keep her pact, I will be the first to call a council meeting.

Fair enough, Faustio agreed. Now we should work on showing the treeclimber why he should stay on his own seaworthy boat rather’n seize the next passing ship.

Dykstra wondered once more whether he was helping her to transform for her benefit or for his own. But when he led the way to a side cave, she followed. If she kept Pretog because there was indeed beauty beneath her fur, all the better. If not, she would still have learned a valuable lesson.

Och, Faustio, I canna do this, she cried some time later. My head bangs worse than running into a rock.

Ye can, lass. Yer just not ready. Yer heart is working against ye. ‘Tis likely all that blarney ye swallowed as a wee one.

How could you know anything of my youth? she demanded.

Conversations held in the future…or the past, he said with a wink. Even with yer gift of foresight, I do not think ye would see unless I explain it. He held a hand up as if to stop her from asking him to do just that. Would not be fair, lass. I be duty bound to keep the past and present separate.

For the sake of the war. Her tone held more than a hint of sarcasm.

Aye.

Blast the man! For the sake of the war, her arse. Even she knew blarney when she heard it. This old man had reasons of his own for not sharing what he knew. And all she had to do was discover what those reasons were.

They returned to the others as Pretog’s lessons were drawn to an end. He shot a puzzled glance at both, distracted as Shu’Ni preened and practically purred in his ear. Dykstra growled and felt Faustio’s hand on her fur.

‘Tis naught but games between male and female, he murmured. Shu’Ni has always had a need to be admired.

Tell her to answer the need elsewhere, Dykstra replied angrily. Either you do it or I will.

And have yer mate know yer true feelings? I think not.

She was struck again with the thought that Faustio knew far more about her than she knew about herself. He started to walk away, then turned back to her.

But I’ll set her down as a good father should.

Dykstra nodded. She looked around as everyone else chose their beds and climbed in. Her gaze slipped to Rynak and Xlana, who had chosen a pallet far from the others. They were entwined like two roots fighting for the same soil. Would they choose tonight to breed? She hoped not, for it would complete her sour mood and worsen the fact she’d already had a miserable day. The night ahead didna look much better.

Faustio and his daughter chose beds not too far from each other. Again, they were together yet apart. Was it a choice made to observe the line of decency or something more?

Finally, she looked to where Pretog slept, or rather where he tried to feign sleep. His dark purple eyes opened more frequently than she liked, each time to steal a glimpse of Shu’Ni. She growled deep in her throat as pain crept from her heart. If he’d look at her that way-just once-she’d be pleased to die for him. Stupid! Stupid! She shook her head, realizing her own foolishness.

The words of her Mama rang through her brain. Doesna pay to lose your heart, daughter. In the end, ‘twill be your undoing. Love turns a female’s brain to mush while the male struts off to the next open bed.

Well, she wouldna do it. She simply wouldna fall in love. Her mother had to be right, for every moment she spent mooning over Pretog had him strutting closer to another. Shu’Ni. Dykstra lay on her leafy bed, determined not to think of her situation. But despite her best efforts, during the night she still found herself waking from light naps, her gaze immediately rushing to Pretog.

CHAPTER EIGHT

>

Pretog’s eyes popped open to stare into the darkness. In his mind, the screams of his villagers were amplified and he saw them race about like a crazed herd of elderbeasts as bolts of fire fell from the sky. He rolled over on his side and glanced toward Dykstra, whose worried gaze met his.

He comes soon, she whispered. We should wake the others.

Pretog nodded and slipped from his bed. He set about lighting the torches, which had gone out in the hours past. Then he rousted the others. Their dazed, sleepy expressions sent mixed emotions through him. Though they appeared disgruntled about being shaken from sleep, there was something else in their response. But what was it?

Rynak unwrapped his limbs from what appeared an extremely comfortable pose around Xlana, and she whispered his name as if to call him back. He rose with a wistful glance back at his love and turned again to Pretog. You have seen trouble?

Aye. Dykstra sees it, too. Very soon.

Good work, woodsman. He patted Pretog on the back.

Pretog’s anger flared, but disappeared as quickly as it came. There was a new tone in the way Rynak spoke. Woodsman. Somehow the nickname didn’t seem as annoying as before. The way Rynak said it, it seemed almost…affectionate. Looking at the others, he noticed they had also treated him differently, as if he was suddenly worthy of their respect.

Dykstra’s thoughts interrupted his own. You shouldna worry what others think, mate. The respect you seek has always been yours.

He glanced over at Dykstra and their gazes met again. He marveled at the understanding he saw within her beautiful and exotic green eyes. How long had she seen past his blustery facade? Had she recognized his insecurities by instinct or did they share a similar history? ‘Twas a pity they’d never discussed their private lives before. Pretog closed his eyes and reminded himself they had a war to prepare for. When he opened them again, he looked over at Dykstra and noticed the warmth within her gaze was gone. Had he imagined what they’d just experienced?

Pretog, you should take the lead, Rynak said, his voice louder than the others.

Why? Shu’Ni demanded. My father is the most experienced warrior. Even over you, bird-beast.

Rynak appeared to ignore the slur, but Pretog couldn’t help but notice a slight rippling along the immortal’s shoulders. He’d seen forest cats whose hair had rippled thus before they struck with deadly claws.

This is Pretog’s home, Rynak answered through gritted teeth. Perchance the villagers will recognize him and work with us as we pull the injured to safety.

Ar, I agree, daughter. ‘Tis better they see a familiar sight than to see a silvery battered warrior and fear the worst. Faustio softly patted his daughter’s back. Fold down your wings, Shu’Ni. ‘Tis not time to strike for blood and I take no offense to Rynak’s plan.

Xlana approached the girl with a woolen cape. Here, Shu’Ni. Put this on to cover your wings.

Shu’Ni glared, an open dare to Xlana warning her against coming too close.

Fine. Be hostile. Xlana cast an aggravated glance at Rynak. She tossed the cape at the Shu’Ni, who flung the garment to the ground and stomped on it. Xlana tsked. I offered it for your safety. To appear different is to ask for trouble where villagers are concerned. I know firsthand. You will find yourself ridiculed or hunted. It would serve you well to remember that we don’t know how many are victims, or servants, of the Demon. I believe I speak for all that we’d rather not lose you to foolish vanity.

Shu’Ni scowled. ‘Twas a look that promised retribution. Pretog felt empathy for Faustio, who stared at his daughter with a puzzled expression. He didn’t understand the impudent child any more than the others did. Her hostility didn’t suggest a person who came willingly to fight an honorable war. The Sea Dragon had already donned a cloak of his own, the hood covering his pewter hair. His disguise made him look like he was either the ugliest old woman in the village or a crotchety sorcerer. Pretog couldn’t decide which.

Foolish vanity my arse! I choose to work unencumbered, Shu’Ni grumbled as she reached for the covering.

Whether it was the fact Faustio had donned his disguise willingly or because of Xlana’s words, Pretog didn’t know-nor did he care why Shu’Ni had changed her mind. He watched as the Sea Maiden folded down her wings, tossed the cloak over her back and lifted the hood. It did not hide her beauty, but Pretog felt a shift in his fascination with the girl. He was concerned about the pieces of her puzzle that didn’t match up. Something was amiss about her and she no longer held the appeal she had the night before.

He glanced at Dykstra whose expression was absolutely blank. What did she think about Shu’Ni beyond the glares they had each received the night before? Most of them had been well earned. Her jealousy had tempted him to push a little harder each time. Not once did he think to ask himself why he loved torturing Dykstra. She turned her head from him and he studied her for moments longer than necessary. Her mind must be on the upcoming events, he decided, even as he recognized the fact she’d closed herself off to him. The loss of seeing and feeling her emotions left him with an ache he didn’t understand.

The six of them trooped through the maze of caverns to arrive at the opening on his island. His uncertainty increased with every step and he wondered if Rynak had been wise to appoint him leader in this venture.

Outside, everything was far too quiet to please him. The dawn sky was a swirl of colors as the four moons inched their way below the horizon and the sun took its place in the new day. Oh, how he loved the morn!

But this morn was not destined to bring joy. Harsh red streaks broke through the other colors, each one setting a blaze where it landed.

He has begun, Dykstra murmured.

Pretog was instantly on his way, hearing the screams within his soul and wishing there was a way to drown them out.

*

Faustio and Shu’Ni followed Pretog. Their cloaks billowed as they raced forward, dodging the balls of fire that landed perilously near their feet. Rynak had to give his brother credit; it would appear the old warrior had not lost his edge.

Can you see where the strikes come from? Xlana asked. We must know where the Demon is if we are to stop him.

He hides behind the sun, Czerick said from behind them. He depends upon village folklore to win the fight.

Village folklore?

Aye. ‘Tis said that at the end of time the sun will erupt, wreaking devastation throughout the world. What the Demon fails to consider is that his aim is directed at only the one side of the loch.

Rynak’s blood stirred. If he transformed, he could fly and face the Demon and stop the torture of innocent souls. He backed away from the pair to do just that.

It would be the end of you to face him there, though I know you wish to try, Heaven’s Dragon, Czerick said. You are needed in mortal form to bring the villagers to safety. His brightly colored essence turned to green as he moved to face Dykstra and Xlana. Best you stay below ground, he told them both. We may have need for more tunnels and you, Xlana, must be ready to guide the treatment of injured.

Despite his dissatisfaction that Czerick was right and he should not face the Demon directly, Rynak gave a sigh of relief. He could not bear to think of Xlana outside dodging the fireballs and streaks of light that tore up the ground. After giving her a brief kiss, he rushed forward, prepared to meet his destiny-whatever it might be.

*

The first casualties arrived almost immediately. Xlana pointed the way to beds, separating the incoming by the severity of their injuries, checking each one as she walked with them further into the caves. Those closest to the core were the worst of the wounded; they would require the most attention. Shu’Ni followed moments later with a multitude of village women and children, and Xlana directed them to a separate cavern.

For the first time since their meeting, the two immortals silently agreed to coordinate their efforts. They sent the able-bodied village men out to help Faustio, Rynak and Pretog carry in the wounded. Shu’Ni was sent to the front of the cave with instructions to send back women skilled with needles and herbs to help Xlana.

Shu’Ni soon found herself not only directing the triage, but also acting as a traffic guard. It reminded her of her duties while attending school, keeping the predators at bay to allow her schoolmates to get home safely. Only the minnows she’d worked with were a far cry from the terrorized villagers who pushed or brutalized anyone in their way to get inside the cave.

Language was a barrier soon lost as the war raged on. Where necessary, Shu’Ni pointed toward the various cave extensions. At other times, she spoke as close as she could manage to the dialect she’d heard from Dykstra. It seemed to be the most widely used among this hodgepodge of half-dressed, disoriented and smelly species. They were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Her kinsmen, though she hardly considered Rynak to be that, were out there trying to save lives and these disgusting crowds were pushing and cursing each other, even trampling some of their own to save their sorry hides! It was revolting, and her stomach rebelled against the chaos.

Be strong, child, Dykstra encouraged her from behind, safely hidden in the shadows. Shu’Ni jumped nearly a foot as Dykstra spoke again. Stop!

The madness came to an instant halt. Everything and everyone stopped in their tracks, as Shu’Ni fell to the ground. Fearfully she felt for her hood and cape then heaved a sigh of relief when she knew they were securely around her, covering up her wings and sea-green hair. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dykstra standing behind her.

This willna work if you keep pushing and shoving, Dykstra bellowed. You’re safe inside these walls. Now do your kin some kindness. Pick them up and help them to healing beds!

As the crowd stood there shivering with fright, Shu’Ni felt a newfound appreciation for the Earth Dragon.

Now, on with you. Pick ‘em up and move about gently! The injured to the left. If you have skills with needles and healing, go with the injured. Everyone else to the right. Dykstra remained in her position and shot a wink to Shu’Ni. Take it from here, lass, she said. I’ll be standing guard if you need me.

Shu’Ni smiled and mouthed a thank you. Injured to the left. If you have skills with needles and healing, go with the injured. Everyone else to the right. After an hour or two, she knew the rhetoric better than she knew her own name.

Pretog passed her by, carrying a wounded child. Do you well, lass.

As do you, woodsman. Take him to the core, she directed.

She heard the purely feminine intake of breath from Dykstra and wondered if it was relief to see her mate still safe or something else. For the first time, she felt the urge to comfort. Ye worry for naught, Dragon. He provides a distraction, nothing more. His eyes may roam, but his heart stays true. He needs time to see what his soul already knows.

*

Rynak felt rather than heard Faustio gag from the smell of burnt flesh as each of them carried helpless victims through the opening to the caverns. How hard this must be on his brother, he thought. Yet Faustio worked as hard as everyone else to bring more to safety. Rynak spared a glance at the beds he passed along the way.

We’re full here. Take them to the next row of beds, Xlana said, scarcely offering them a look over her shoulder. And thank you for still being alive, my love.

Me own privilege, Faustio answered with a snicker.

Rynak smiled, despite the conditions surrounding him. Hundreds were in need and he was barely dragging himself along same as the others, yet Faustio kept his sense of humor. If it was blarney, Rynak wished for a double serving. Almost as much as he wished for a kiss from Xlana or a hug to fortify him through the next search outside. She must have read his thoughts, for she blew a kiss in his direction, listened to Faustio’s blustering and ended up blowing him one, too.

Ye be a lucky man, brother, Faustio said as they headed through the opening of the cave once more. Never lose sight of that.

I don’t aim to forget, he answered. Do you see any signs of this letting up?

Not much left to burn. Faustio’s voice was husky with grief. Pretog brings more animals. A good sign. Perchance he finds less carnage in the village?

Let us hope so, Rynak said. My bones cry and my heart aches. So much destroyed and all for naught.

The number of people still making their way from the village became fewer, but the grim expressions on their faces indicated they were leaving more than belongings behind. Some led livestock as others held up fellow villagers, slowly dodging the burning embers from the dark and smoky sky. Two of the innocents were lost as a streak of red engulfed them and left a scorched hole big enough to hold a cook fire. Rynak’s heart tore in pain at the sight. The path to the cave was littered with the charred remains of mortals who had not jumped out of the way fast enough.

Faustio, relieve this man’s burden and see them safely to the cave. Are there others left behind? he asked the villager.

Only the ones that have seen their own destiny, the stranger answered. The village is quiet except for the sound of flames eating what they find.

Aye, Faustio said. And still He hungers.

The stranger shot Faustio a look of horror. He? Ye know him?

‘Tis none other than the Demon of Fire. He wants us to feel his wrath.

Rynak watched as the stranger backed away from Faustio, his face a mask of terror. Fear not, he said. We know of him. We do not dine or seek pleasure with him, or we would not be coming to your aid.

It was a slim reassurance, but it appeared to work. Still, there was something about the man that struck an uneasy chord within Rynak. But the elderly man nodded acceptance and followed Faustio, who carried the younger, injured villager inside the cave.

Where was Pretog? Rynak rushed to the woods and surveyed his surroundings, desperately searching for the woodsman. A fiery blaze of red, orange and yellow engulfed the tops of trees, and smoke made it difficult for him to see. He coughed as the misty death fought to eat him alive.

Elves darted from the path of one burning tree on its way to the ground, only to find themselves in the way of others.

By the power of The Almighty, I command all creatures of the woods be free. Run for the caves, Rynak yelled.

The furry creatures all stared in amazement, glanced up to see a falling tree, then swarmed out of their former home like thousands of bees leaving their hive. Hundreds of other woodland creatures followed, from hare to elderbeast, to the roaring bears. Rynak wondered what havoc he was creating on the other end. Ah, but it was too late for that thought.

Pretog came running to his side, cradling an injured critter in his arms. Why not I think of that? he asked.

Rynak didn’t have to ask what he meant. Because I thought of it first. He winked at the woodsman. Next time, I’ll be dodging the creatures and scrambling for cover.

Dodging Xlana you be, Pretog answered. Best go we to see mortals and beasts remain separate.

Aye. But Rynak wasn’t truly worried. Dykstra could handle the bears and the spiny beasts wriggling their way to safety. He cast a glance over his shoulder as he neared the entrance to the caves. He thought again of the old man he’d seen last. A niggling doubt remained and he wondered if he should check the village one last time. His gut level said to go while his mind argued that he should believe the word of the mortal. Surely the mortal would not lie, leaving his countrymen to suffer? He shook his head and went in search of Dykstra.

As expected, the Earth Dragon had the woodsland beasts herded inside the farthest cavern. ‘Twas the farthest she could go to separate the beasts from the mortals without leaving them outside. The gates Czerick had instructed them to make were already slid into place at both sides. Neither mortals nor elves nor fairies were pleased to share space, but all seemed relieved to be distanced from the hazards of claws and fangs.

What ye plan now? a villager demanded as Rynak walked by.

Ye has us in one place, another said. Easier to destroy us, is me guess.

Fools! an elderly woman chastised the both of them. If’n he wished us dead, he woulda left us to the fires!

Thank you, my lady. Rynak patted her on the shoulder. My thoughts exactly.

The woman’s face turned beet red. She stammered, but Rynak couldn’t understand a thing she said or tried to say.

She be no lady. That’s Lidia. She’s the village—

Close your mouth, sir! A woman who knows her own mind and speaks with intelligence is always a lady. Don’t ever forget it!

Lidia fell to her knees before Rynak. Thank you, kind sir. Whatever I can do—

It is you I should thank, he replied, gently taking her hand to help her rise. He’d been wrong to think her elderly; this woman was still in her prime. Follow the path to the right. Search for Czerick, a bellowing sphere of light. I’ve a feeling he could use your help. Rynak sent a scathing glance in the direction of the villagers who had been so belligerent. If you’ve the mind for fighting, you might start assembling your army. We’ll need you when the Demon of Fire or his agents show themselves. Unless some of them already have. His gaze narrowed on the pair who had dared him earlier. If you’re too weak for swords and spears, you might as well help some of the ladies set up a cook fire. That is, if you’ve a mind to eat.

His thoughts, one of the men grumbled as Rynak walked on. Who gives a twit about his thoughts. Doomed we are to live the rest of our lives in a cave.

The two men weren’t the only ones grumbling. Everywhere Rynak went there was more of the same. They weren’t being treated fast enough. The chit in charge was ignoring them. Who were these strangers who told them what to do and where to go? The huge hairy beast that spoke was scarier than all the woodsland creatures together. Did ye see the two in cloaks? What d’ye think they be hiding?

Shut up, Rynak thundered, a small smile twisting at his mouth as the walls and floors of the caves shook with his fury. You will all know what we know as we know it. We have wounded to treat. For the moment, sit quiet or find something useful to do that will help the lot of you. There’s food to be prepared, fresh linens needed for the sick, and an army to be assembled. And keep your bloody thoughts to yourselves!

Shu’Ni sidled up to him. You ranted, Heaven’s Dragon?

Don’t call me that, he warned in an all too quiet voice that should have sliced her in two.

Ye expect too much, she replied. A secret such as this is worth a price, do ye not think?

I think you had best stay to your side of the cave, Sea Maiden, he whispered gruffly. How long do you think it will take for one of these villagers to turn to the dark and hand both our hides over to the Demon?

She pouted. Our hides, as you quaintly put it, are exactly what I’m thinking about. I could be very nice to you, if I’m of a mind to be.

And I could be very dangerous to you if I’m of a mind to be. As could my wife. One word and I could have her rip the wings off your pretty back. Where would you be then, Sea Maiden? He paused and stroked his stubbled chin, surprised at the new sensation. I do not believe you would find the life of a mortal all that pleasant. If you doubt me, ask any one of these women and they’ll tell you of their miseries.

If you say so, she said. She turned to do exactly what he’d suggested.

He caught her by the arm and flipped her tight to his side. He didn’t miss her sly smile as she nudged herself closer than he liked. As they reached Faustio, he twirled her into her father’s arms. Put a leash on your daughter, brother, or the war will be over faster than it starts.

Shu’Ni huffed. I don’t think he likes me, she told her father. Or maybe he likes me more than he wants to.

Faustio shook his head. Ar, brat. That’s the trouble w’ye. Yer eyes do not see any clearer than yer wit.

*

Rynak’s mouth twitched as he tossed his thoughts of father and daughter aside. He had a wife to find. His loins ached as he remembered the night before. How frustrated they’d both been when touching was not enough. Every sweet caress of her hands left him hungry for more and while he had also done a thorough search of every delightful curve, it had taken everything within to stop himself from carrying her to an obscure side cave and giving them both the pleasure they craved. But in the end, he could not-would not debauch her like the crazed elderbeast, as she’d called it. He would court her as any mortal might and learn of life in her world. He would show her his own universe among the stars and the deep waters. Only then would they be equals and know the fullness of their love.

It did not matter to him what the others in their group thought they were doing last night. He had heard Shu’Ni’s giggles at their love play as well as Pretog’s harrumph, followed by the repeated clearing of Czerick’s throat. Thank the Gods Faustio had slept through until Pretog’s early morning wake-up. Rynak had expected Xlana to color in embarrassment this morn, but she’d slipped out of their bed with the sweetest smile he had ever seen, and held her head high to the others.

He wanted to see that smile again. Now. But where in blue clouds was she? He heard the moans and groans of the wounded. Then he heard the hushed whispers of several village women, grouped in a corner as if they were a coven of witches keeping their quarry in sight. Czerick was reprimanding several for holding up the line, while he instructed a young maiden to dampen cloths and add special herbs to create a poultice. As he told her to pass it along to another woman, he scowled at the others and covered the distance between his perch with his medicines and the circle of frightened women.

Ladies, there is work to be done! If you insist on standing here shivering like school children, we will be at this for the remainder of the day and into the night! What is your quandary?

There, three cried at once and pointed. She heals with her hands…and her voice! ‘Tis the devil’s work!

CHAPTER NINE

>

Of course she heals with touch and calls prayers to the Gods, Czerick answered with a voice sharper than steel. She is the daughter of a sorcerer! And proud I am to call her mine!

Rynak lost his humor and lust as he followed their pointed fingers. As he’d feared, Xlana was in the midst of all this chaos. Her back was bent over in what could only be considered a painful twist and she was begging the Gods for the power to heal.

Get to work, women, he bellowed. Forget this foolishness or you will lose the ones you value most.

Each feminine face turned white with fear and they scurried like mice to stand in line for healing powders or potions from Czerick’s able assistant. He smiled briefly. Lidia had obviously found the sorcerer and while the other females treated her with disdain or avoided touching her, she was holding her head high and doing her job with glowing pride. Czerick ordered them about and chastised them soundly for dithering when there was work to be done. Regardless, Rynak could feel their stares as he stomped over to Xlana’s side.

Xlana. Beloved, he murmured as he slipped to his knees.

Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been speaking for hours on end. He could hear the pain laced within every word and the tears she tried unsuccessfully to keep at bay. Too many had fallen, he thought, given the telltale streaks down her dirty cheeks. Her hands continued to hover over the young boy’s body and there was an aura of gold surrounding the child’s skin and her own. But it flickered at times. ‘Twas a sure sign she had done far more of this kind of healing than she should have. He was glad he had arrived when he had. Her own strength was waning and if she continued her efforts, it would mean her death.

Xlana, he repeated. You must pull back. ‘Twill do you no good to continue on this path. An empty vessel is of no use if it lacks the ability to refill itself.

I can’t lose him, Rynak, she said, bursting with fresh tears. He is but a boy, a child in this devilish war. She sobbed and laid her head on his shoulder. I have seen too many die this day. The mother of the last child lost…a tiny girl…called me a demon, she added with a hiccup. But if it’s a demon I must be to save the life of another, then I shall gladly bear the name.

Nay, my love. You could never be a demon, nor serve one. He ran a palm over the forehead of the boy. There remained a tiny strand of life, as thin as the thread the women were using with their needles. Hold me, my love. Lean against me and let your tears flow.

As she did so, he channeled his own powers of healing to his hand and felt it tingle. Sparkles of golden light floated between his palm and the child’s head. In his mind, he saw the boy’s life flow increase, strengthening in tiny increments until he saw the youth’s chest expand and decrease with each breath.

He will live, beautiful Xlana. Watch as he breathes, his eyes moving beneath his lids as he dreams. I have given him the dreams of youth, honorable battles fought by warriors over the love of a fair maiden. He forgets the horrors of this day and buries the hurt for his lost loved ones.

Rynak, she whimpered, reaching up to plant her mouth on his. How can I thank you?

He did not answer her directly. He stood and lifted her into his arms instead. Czerick, he bellowed, not bothering to disguise his anger. The child will live, but it will be your magic to heal his wounds and not Xlana’s. Bring a woman and your potions. If you can spare Lidia, I want her to tend the boy. See that his wounds are treated.

As Lidia rushed to the boy’s bedside, an older snub-nosed female stepped forward, her anger as tangible as the blackened teeth in her mouth. She is a demon. They both are, can ye not see, countrymen? Who else but the devil could bring a soul back to life? And look how they put a whore in charge of the boy’s care.

Stupid mortal, Rynak countered, his voice rising in spite of his best efforts to contain himself. Have you no faith? Does it not occur to you that the Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water can grant the gift of healing? He ignored the murmurs of the crowd gathering to hear their heated discussion. Can you not see this is a war between good and evil? You, me, my wife and all the others, he yelled, nodding his head in every direction, we are the pawns. Your children die for no other reason than the whim of the Demon of Fire. Either you fight beside us or die on your own. Choose now. Choose wisely. As for me, I have a sick wife to attend.

He spun around and stomped out of the cave, leaving Czerick and the others to deal with the foolish woman as well as those who followed her school of thought. Five against hundreds were not great odds, but he had more important things resting on his shoulders. Xlana’s strength was ebbing dangerously close to the edge and only he could save her. Already she was unconscious, her breathing uneven and shallow. If he did not find a quiet place for their life forces to join, she could slip beyond his reach and he would lose her.

Supreme One, I ask for your help. You did not bring us together to separate us in death. Not this way, I am certain. Give me strength to share with her and give her the ability to receive. I cannot lose her. His eyes filled with tears and his vision was blurry, but he didn’t care.

Here, Pretog called out as he rushed to Rynak’s side with a torch in both hands. Turn left, he urged. Dykstra blasted a small cave and laid I a bed for you and Xlana. He blushed. For privacy, he added.

Privacy? Rynak’s heart warmed to Pretog and his mouth twitched with an urge to smile.

Am I to ignore the heated look in your eyes when look you at her? Or the longing gaze she gives when not you see? The woodsman pointed to a large leafy pallet at the furthest corner of the cavern.

While Rynak laid Xlana on the leaves, he noticed Pretog made himself very inconspicuous. A torch was implanted in one of the walls and the pile of wood that Rynak had narrowly missed with his foot when he walked in to the cozy little space was quickly ignited. When he turned to thank Pretog, the woodsman was gone.

Praise the Gods, Rynak whispered. He planted himself beside Xlana and laid his hand on her head. Her life force felt as weak as the injured boy they had just treated. He lay down and pulled her close and summoned the Gods and The Almighty once more, begging for their help.

Though he’d known to expect a reply, he was astonished as a shimmering gold curtain appeared and separated them from the rest of the room. Well done, my Lord, he murmured, then felt the twist of his mouth and knew he was smiling foolishly.

Xlana woke for a moment, raised her head and smiled at him. The next instant, she lay silent in his arms, asleep once more. Rynak channeled his strength to her and felt her pull what she needed from him, yet she returned strength to him in what he came to recognize was the power of love. It was the sweetest communion he had ever experienced. Within moments, he could feel her breath against his chest and he heaved a sigh of relief. Now they would rest, safe within the protective confines of the golden curtain.

*

Wrelan dragged herself out of the water and on to the beach. Small, sharp pebbles dug into her palms and knees, and she rose gingerly to her feet. She was bone weary. She had been swimming since before dawn and the sun had long since dipped below the horizon. Now ghostly moons had risen to strike blue fire from the sea and cast an eerie glow over the land. The land! She shivered, remembering Papa’s dire tales about this earth-place, where danger lurked in every shadow and servants of the Demon waited to trap the unwary.

The shingle hurt her feet and it made enough noise to wake Papa from one of his weed-dreams, scrunching and swishing at every step no matter how carefully she trod. A muffled curse escaped her as her bare toes struck something hard, and she sank down onto the stones, fighting back terror. If any creature of the Dark Fire were nearby, surely it couldn’t fail to hear her. She lay rigid, almost too frightened to draw breath, but no demon appeared. There was no sound except the gentle lap of water. After a while she scrambled up, knuckled tears away with the backs of her hands, and headed inland. The land curved gently upward from the sea, the stony beach giving way to earth covered with vegetation. Now she was over her first sharp fear, and weariness took hold of her again. She was almost asleep on her feet by the time she’d gone a hundred strides. There were trees not too far ahead. Perhaps she could find shelter there and rest until daybreak. A familiar scent rippled in the evening breeze. Fish, cooking in a savory-smelling stew that brought water to her mouth and made her empty insides gurgle. Too late, she realized what the aroma meant. Someone was nearby. She froze in place, wishing she were in the sea where she could melt into the waves.

Who’s there? a voice cried out. Who creeps about my walls?

The voice was low and clear, but Wrelan couldn’t tell if it belonged to male or female. Perhaps if she was quiet and remained still, whoever it was would leave her alone.

The stranger spoke again. Come, child. I will not harm you.

Wrelan crept forward, all her senses alert. Dimly she saw a small building amid the trees, a rough-walled hut. Light filtered through a curtained doorway and in front of it huddled a little, shapeless figure. She went on with more confidence. What could one so small and stooped do to her? She was sturdy and strong, a fact she had hated until now; she had always wanted to be dainty like Shu’Ni. Two strides from the hut, she stopped. She ignored the pounding of her heart and listened carefully, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. But there was no sound except the chirp of crickets calling to their mates and the far-off hoot of an owl.

The figure inside lifted its head, revealing the face of an ancient crone, her skin soft and withered as a winter fruit. Come in, child. Eat and rest your weary feet. Food and clothing will I give you, to help you on your way.

She stretched a welcoming arm, gathering Wrelan and guiding her inside the dwelling. It was bright and warm with a lively fire crackling on a stone hearth. The fragrant stew pot bubbled merrily, hung on a hook above the flames. The old woman took a simple tunic of pale wool from a peg behind the door. Put this on child, then sit you down. I will bring food.

Wrelan slipped the tunic over her head and looked around for a place to sit. A wooden stool was perched in a corner close to the fire. She sank down onto it, stretching her hands to the warmth. Who are you? she asked.

The woman gave her a sweet smile. Just an old one, child, living forgotten here. But what of you? Why do you wander, travel-stained and weary, and all alone? Have you no parents to watch for your safety?

Wrelan felt tears prickling her eyes. My father and sister left me, and my mother is

Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to talk about her mother and the Demon here in this warm, safe place.

Be easy, child, the old one said. Here is your supper. She set a steaming bowl of stew and some crusty bread in Wrelan’s hands. Satisfy your hunger, then we shall talk a little before you sleep.

Wrelan ate the stew quickly, then nibbled on the bread, which was spotted with nuts and berries and spread with creamy cheese. She felt drowsy and content and ready for sleep. The old woman had taken a stool at the opposite corner of the hearth, and Wrelan glanced up to see a pair of bright eyes studying her intently.

Will you now tell me your tale, child? she asked. The firelight danced and shimmered on her face, making it seem as old as time yet ageless.

Wrelan stared at her, astonished. She felt no fear, and she knew she could tell this woman everything. I was raised as the daughter of Faustio the Sea Dragon, but it may be that I am the seed of the Demon of Fire, she said. Only my mother knows the truth, and she left our home after she gave birth to me, saying Papa has no heart.

Your mother speaks to you from a distance? the old one asked. And you go to find her?

Wrelan nodded. But what if I am the Demon’s seed? Oh, Gods, am I doomed to be hateful and wicked, despised by everyone I would love? Can I not be good like Papa and Shu’Ni?

The old one rose from the stool and looked at her for many heartbeats. Then she spoke. Child, hear me well. Whether you be seed of Faustio or of the Demon matters not. The getting of the body is naught. All paths lead both to good and ill and each of us must chose which way to tread-not once but many times throughout a life. The good may fall, the fallen be redeemed. Sleep now and when the first moon sets, be on your way. Neither your mother nor your father shall hinder you. But beware, child. Shu’Lan lies in the Palace of the Demon, which is beyond my reach. Evil is there in force and you may succumb to it or fight to victory. This is your choice, Wrelan, daughter of Sea and Fire.

The flames in the hearth leapt up. Shadows flickered and bloomed. Brightness swam around the old one until she appeared to be made of light, shining and beautiful. Wrelan watched, entranced by the glorious image. Then her eyelids fluttered and she sank down into a deep and dreamless slumber.

In the morning, Wrelan woke in a huddle of warm cloth, on a pallet of sweet-smelling grass. Memories of the strange things the old one had said to her in the leaping firelight filled her head. Your choice, Wrelan. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The old woman was already up and about, busily stirring the stew pot.

Ah child, you’re awake, the old one said. Did you sleep well?

Yes, thank you.

The woman chuckled. You were off as soon as you’d done with supper. You’d have fallen from the stool if I hadn’t caught you and bundled you to bed. So much for our plan to talk.

But we did talk, Wrelan said, wriggling out from the warm blankets. You told me—

No child, you must have dreamed it so. Never mind. Here is breakfast. Eat, while I wrap bread for your journey. You will find shoes for your feet by the stool and a stout cloak to protect you from rain and cold. Make haste now. The first moon is near set.

Wrelan didn’t want to hurry. She wanted to stay in the warmth and peace of the hut and enjoy the kindness of the old one. But the food was soon gone and she had no excuse to linger. She put on the shoes and cloak and picked up the little cloth-wrapped bundle of bread. She had never expressed gratitude for anything Faustio or Shu’Ni had done for her, and now she didn’t know how to thank this strange old woman who had given her so much.

I don’t deserve all you’ve done, she whispered. She reached out shyly to touch the woman’s hand.

Farewell, Wrelan, daughter of Sea and Fire.

Had the old one spoken aloud or were the words only in her head? Without knowing exactly how it happened, she found herself outside in the cold dawn with the door shut firmly behind her. She blinked and all remained the same. The door was still shut and she felt no inkling of welcome. Wrelan sighed softly.

She set off slowly along a path that led away through the woods. When she paused to look back the hut was invisible among the sheltering trees. Not even a thread of smoke marked its presence. She was alone again. The hut and the kindly old woman might never have existed.

*

Ye didna hear what the powerful one said, the female villager argued. Her husband shook his head as if tired of hearing her voice. He said ‘twas a war between good and evil. Their powers come from the Gods and we be the pawns. She stared at her husband and the other villagers who had come to talk about the strangers. Ye must know the Demon would spare us if we turn ‘em in. We have no quarrel with him.

Aye, and today we fight fire that comes from the sun, another woolen clad figure agreed. Bad enough we lose our homes, we lose our freedom, too.

What of the hairy-beast? someone else asked. Bigger than three huts ‘top each other she be. Creature that large should be easy t’ kill.

Fool, the village woman countered. And how many of us die in the works? I say we kill the big one wi’ the locks of a female. And his wife. If they be strong mated, ‘twouldna do to have one avenge the other.

Ye wish to do battle with the Gods, Satcha Dane? a man asked, scratching his lice-infested hair. He spat at the woman’s feet. Oi’v heard enough. Oi’ll have no part o’ this.

Red Falcon walked off and parked himself as far as he could from the clamoring fools. But he kept an ear open. While he couldn’t say he was part and parcel with the strangers who had taken them in, he couldn’t say he was against them either. One thing Red Falcon had learned was to choose his battles carefully.

From his position he could see the separate entrances to caves and he watched the scurrying about of the ladies working on the wounded. What the bloody ‘ell was that, he wondered as he caught a fleeting glance of a huge sparkle. Red ignored the rising pitch of the mob he’d just left and inched closer to get a better view of the mysterious star. Tingles ran down his spine and his nerves twitched as he heard the sparkle speak. Mayhap the giant had been right, he thought as he watched, mystified by the spikes of color that lit up the cavern. This is a war between good and evil, and the Gods were walking among them.

The large, cloaked stranger passed by after dispatching the troublesome group. Red discreetly got up and trailed him until they were beyond the sight of Satcha Dane and her loyal following. As they cleared the beginning of a new cave, this one empty, Red started to seize his chance to talk to the foreigner-until he noticed a second cloaked stranger was waiting.

Red slipped to the side, his ear as close to the edge as possible for him to hear their conversation.

*

Papa, Shu’Ni said, noticing her father’s pained expression at her whine. Not only must we bear the grunts and smells of these new people, but must I also continue to wear this pitiful disguise? She flung the disgusting garment to the ground and stretched her wings. Oh, ‘tis wonderful to breathe again.

Caution, daughter. The cloak is for yer own safety.

Yer own safety, she mocked, ignoring the reddening of her father’s face. Perchance it was about time he realized she was no longer a child to be led by a ruddy leash. Damn that bird-beast! Her backside still hurt from the paddling of her father’s hand. It had been years since he’d laid a hand on her in anger. I hear the words, but they lack strength. What can a mortal do to us?

Petulant brat!

Faustio wrung his hands in a way Shu’Ni knew well, though she had not seen him do it since he found the sea grass. But he no longer used the sea grass, nor was he as easy to manipulate as he’d been in the past. The gleam in his eye meant he was close to striking her and she backed up in minute steps.

‘Twould serve ye well to remember yer place. He paused and his eyes narrowed on her. Or do ye test me apurpose? He shook his head and his hood slipped down. The cloak fell to the ground and pooled at his feet, exposing his wings. I swear by Neptune’s Fork that I know ye no longer.

I’m grown, Papa. ‘Tis time you accepted it. I choose my own playmates and take my own chances. She sighed dramatically, no longer afraid. These mortals are a waste of my time. No one understands me except Pretog and he is torn between duty and desire.

Leave his desires be, Shu’Ni. Dykstra takes her commitments serious and ye’ll find yerself buried in a mudpile. ‘Twould not be the first time she took matters to hand.

She wasted little time trying to decipher his cryptic words. Posh! She is a digger with the temperament of a sea-cow.

A sea-cow, eh? Best ye look again. Faustio chuckled low in his throat, leaving Shu’Ni to wonder what he knew that she didn’t.

Shu’Ni hesitated, remembering the way Dykstra had helped her earlier that morn. Dykstra hadn’t looked or acted very much like a sea-cow then. And she’d come to Shu’Ni’s rescue, despite the fact Shu’Ni had been outrageous in her behavior with Pretog. Was the Earth Dragon a friend or foe?

Was anyone in this Gods-forsaken war a friend? Even her own father seemed changed from the man she’d known since her birth. He was as obsessed as the others with his desire to conquer the Demon of Fire. Why? Was it to avenge the loss of his wife or was there something more to this war than she’d thought?

Her father seemed taller, more self-assured. He was…heroic. How many wounded had he carried in from the village? She’d lost count. His bellow brought her attention back to the situation at hand.

Wake yerself, Faustio commanded. Waste yer time in silly dreams and ye’ll be on the wrong side of this war. The Demon steals the minds of those who spend time wandering about in a daze.

Oh, Papa, you worry for naught, she said. She flashed him her most dazzling smile, the one she always used when she wanted her way. His answering smile disappeared as quickly as it came. I have in mind to wander, but ‘tis the water I seek. She looked about the cave and cursed. Where is the damned sea, anyway?

Ye cannot go there, Faustio replied sourly. Ye know as well as I that the Demon could be lingering in the loch.

She locked her arms together and stood in open defiance. I said I want the water, and to the water I’ll go.

Neptune’s Fork! I’m almost convinced to let ye go. Ye’ve been nothing but trouble since we arrived. He turned, slipped on his cloak and stomped away, leaving Shu’Ni shaking inside with anger.

Nothing but trouble, she growled after he’d gone. My own father! Didn’t I stand there driving herds of mortals to safety? Didn’t I face the dangers of the Seas of the North to arrive here? For what? All the immortals dislike me, perchance even the ignorant Earth Dragon. And that bird-beast! I do not need this, I do not. She swooped down, grabbed her cloak, and started to stalk out of the cave carrying it in her hands. Then she thought better of it. Better to remain a mystery than to lose the gift of illusion. Men do love mysteries, she murmured and swept out of the cave, her cape and hood covering her once more.

*

Red Falcon had brushed his hand across his eyes so many times, he’d left muddy streaks that dried and irritated his skin. The wings! Och, the winged girl had been a vision such as he’d never encountered except in his dreams in the Seas of the North. A spirited one she was. And the man! There he’d stood, as silver as the swords Red created in his blacksmith shop.

They had to be of the Gods. There was no other explanation for why they would be here. But what should he do with his newfound knowledge? ‘Twas the Demon of Fire who tormented them, therefore, he be the one with power. But…. What about the bonnie lass who healed by touch or the giant who claimed his place at her side? They had done naught but save the lives of his kinsmen. What of the huge furry creature who spoke with such authority even he dared not argue? And what of the woodsman whose path he’d crossed frequently in the forest? The cheeky fellow had never seemed to fit in with his lot in life. From the first time he’d met the youth, Red had wondered about him.

Could they all, including the winged beings he’d just witnessed, be of the Gods? He shifted uncomfortably, his legs worn out from supporting his hefty weight. Then he slid to the ground. He must think. Who would benefit the most from his knowledge? Who would be in a position to reward him when the war ended?

CHAPTER TEN

>

Rynak awoke with troubling thoughts, a nagging that refused to leave him alone. Xlana lay sleeping peacefully in his arms and the shimmering golden curtain was still in place. Feeling his way through her dreams, he was pleased beyond measure at her erotic images and uninhibited response. She shared his overwhelming desire to breed. It took nearly all his strength to set her aside and leave her chaste. What he really wanted to do was fulfill her every fantasy-and his own. But she needed rest and if he touched her now, neither would sleep for several days.

He rose and glanced back at her, devouring the sight of her, his curiosity piqued by the innocence of her pose versus the heated desire that he knew flowed through her veins.

Rynak! Pretog called as he neared the entrance of their private chambers. Be you needed!

The golden curtain disappeared as Rynak walked through it. There was urgency to Pretog’s voice that matched the fitful visions he’d seen moments before.

I am here, he said. Six of his large steps took him to the entrance of the small cavern. He put a finger to his mouth as he met Pretog. What is the problem?

The villagers. Be they prepared for war-against us!

Rynak had never seen Pretog’s brows in such disarray, several raised high while others were squiggly lines. The poor child was beside himself. Rynak wasn’t surprised by the news or by Pretog’s perplexity. He doubted the woodsman was capable of venomous thoughts, at least not yet. The villagers, however, were another story.

Who stands to defend?

Faustio and Czerick. Dykstra was away, but sends she thoughts that she be coming back.

Rynak paced, his loyalty split between the need to prevent a skirmish with the villagers and his need to see Xlana whole and well. Faustio is in immortal form and vulnerable. Stay here with Xlana and I will stand with them.

Go I with you!

Nay, Woodsman. Xlana is vulnerable and cannot be left alone. You are needed to defend her if the Demon sends for her. Rynak pulled Pretog in his arms and held him as close as male traditions would allow. His affection for the young man had grown strong within the time they’d shared. Guard her well, young brother, she is my life. I trust no other with her care.

The thick lines on Pretog’s face scrambled once more then settled in a determined straight line. Rynak was touched with his sincerity and held his smile inside at the small blush on the young man’s cheeks. With a final pat on Pretog’s back, Rynak rushed along the corridors to the main core.

He stopped near the edge and focused on transforming. Better two dragons to face the crowds than one.

Gasps filled the main room as Rynak strutted in, giving each person along the sidewall an unholy glare. He maintained an I-dare-you-to-try-anything expression on his face, and purposefully lifted and stretched his talons toward the now cowering crowd. With a look toward his brother, he noted there were several villagers armed and standing beside Faustio. Good. They were gaining loyal followers. But where was Dykstra?

Dismissing the question, he pointed a sharp talon in one man’s direction. You! The one whose voice I can hear from the next cave, he bellowed. The villager glared and Rynak saw what he’d expected-the glint of demon fire in the stranger’s eyes. Have you a real desire to challenge me? He inched his claw closer and allowed it to rest on the man’s chest, knowing full well that if he pressed a mite harder his newfound enemy would feel the prick of his nail meeting skin. Give me a reason not to split you and spill your innards. As an agent of the Demon, you deserve no less.

Czerick glided near Rynak’s ear and whispered, You cannot kill him thus. You will taint yourself further and be no closer to your goal. He must be beheaded.

Then he will shake in his boots until a sword is brought forward, Rynak whispered back.

Ye dare call me an agent of the Demon? Greasy hair as long and thick as that of the elderbeast in winter flew in a circle about the man’s face as he shook his head in anger. The veins in his neck bulged and his eyes raked the room. By what proof can ye make your claim? Ye bellow as loudly as the lordly one who left many of my kinsmen in the village! Be ye one and the same?

Rynak’s control faltered a moment. This was the villager who’d said there were none left alive in the village. By the Gods! He’d known there was something peculiar about the man’s answer. He sharpened his gaze on the piece of useless-excuse-for-life standing before him. You were asked if any remained. You answered ‘there be none except those who have already seen their destiny.’ Should I take it you lied and left your kinsman to die?

Och, he challenges you, dragon, with a game for fools, Dykstra said as she entered the core. He plays with your mind and hopes to destroy you by proving you a coward or careless. She glared at the villagers. How many of you are willing to face the Demon for his lies? The line of antagonists grew shorter as several mortals took to flight. Her expression changed to one of contempt. An agent of the demon feels no need to save anyone, except of course, himself.

But ye, our mighty dragon, didna think to check for yerself, the antagonist spat. Could ye be afraid of the Demon?

There was a grumble amongst the crowd, with several of the menfolk looking at Rynak with renewed fervor. Are ye? they demanded as one. Perchance ‘tis why we hide in a cave rather’n face the enemy.

You wish to face the enemy? Rynak dipped his head to the side, perplexed by their ignorance. Were they really that stupid? Are you armed any better now than you were when his balls of fire burst at your feet? He paused, waiting for his question to sink into their feeble brains. I think not. With a flip of his talon, he turned the man in his grasp to face the others. But you are certainly armed to deal with one of his agents. Look inside your kinsman’s eyes and see the flame. Once turned, a creature cannot hide the hatred burning inside.

Several villagers backed away in horror. One young man pulled a spear free of his woolen cloak and flung it at Rynak. Rynak reacted quickly, flicking his wing to deflect the spear. Then he watched its path to see that no others were hurt. By the time he turned his attentions to the riotous mortals, the young man was on the ground, his cloaked head a foot away from his body.

Drop yer claw, Dragon. Red Falcon be me name. The newcomer’s bloody sword stood at ready, pointed at the agent’s throat. Oi be well trained to clean up the trash.

A stroke of his sword and the second man’s head fell with a thump. Several of the women looking on swooned. Red swaggered over to the first victim and lifted an eyelid.

As Oi thought, he had the flame. He walked over to stand by Faustio’s side. Faustio sputtered and slapped the strawberry redhead’s back in welcome. Five or six other men walked over to their side as well.

Well done, Red Falcon, Rynak said. If you are of a mind to, speak with Pretog about leading a group when the Demon appears.

Be me honor and pleasure, he answered, calling to the group remaining along the far wall. People, ye know me well. Oi been a working blacksmith in yer village for nigh to twenty years and ye’ve called me friend. ‘Tis as these…people…have said. This be a war between good and evil, not kinsman against his own. ‘Tis enough we fight the Demon of Fire. It makes no sense to fight the ones that save us.

Wordlessly, the group of villagers looked at each other, then at the two bodies on the ground. They backed away to their separate corners. But Rynak knew the matter was far from over. There were others acting for the Demon, safely hidden in the shadows for the moment. He could feel their evil presence.

Faustio, Rynak and Dykstra stayed with the new group of warriors for a long time, discussing the notorious leaders of the village and the ones known for wreaking havoc.

The time comes for the next attack, Dykstra said, her furry brows drawn down in pain. We must keep the two villages separate. Are there others we can trust to keep this side of the caves under control?

Rynak watched as Red scratched his hairy red chin and thought. The bold redhead appeared the best man to answer the question.

Czerick answered first. We waste time! These men stood to be counted amongst you. I feel no fury or fear within them. Look in their souls, Rynak. If you agree, leave them in charge.

Aye, Faustio said. I read them the same. Red can stay and ensure they remain strong.

Rynak lifted a claw and turned Red’s face to meet his own, then he stared deep within the man’s eyes. Hmmm. The newcomer thought himself a man with his own agenda, but Rynak could see that a hero lay within the man’s soul.

He stays, Rynak agreed. You serve the cause well, Sir. We have need of men as good as you.

He did the same with the other men left under Red’s command. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked away, through one cave and into the next. Then he transformed. This time the war took place on Xlana’s side of the loch. Their purpose was better served if he kept his secret, especially since Karn already knew of him. And he had to find a way to keep Xlana hidden.

Deep in thought, he ran right into Pretog and Xlana. She seemed healthier, but much too frightened for his liking. He swooped her into his arms and kissed her soundly. That was for your dreams, he said with a lascivious grin and a playful wink. This is to beg you to stay hidden. He kissed her again, conveying every ounce of urgency he felt. We go to the other side of the loch and you cannot be seen by Karn or any others under the Demon’s control.

She threw a look at him that could have melted steel.

I need you safe, my love. Go to the child and see how he fares. I left him in the care of Lidia, a good woman with a history of sorrow. He turned to Pretog. Unless you agree to stay with her, find Red Falcon and tell him I ask for his very best bodyguard to watch over her.

Stay I with her. Send a thought if be I’m needed and leave her will I in Red’s care. Know I of him and he be good man.

Rynak kissed Xlana one last time and welcomed the feel of her against him. His loins ached, but the call to duty was not to be ignored. Regretfully, he released her. Now go.

Come back safe, my love, she called softly after him as he raced to catch up with the others. And put on some clothes!

Rynak heard the first comment. The echoes within the chambers stole her last words and he was too focused on the battle ahead to ask her to repeat the thought. It was not until he met Faustio seconds later that he realized what she’d said.

Perchance you need this more than me. Faustio snickered as he moved his hands to take off his cloak.

Rynak looked down at himself and groaned. He was naked! A naked immortal stood little chance against warriors such as Karn. Very interesting, brother, but you may be out of season, Dykstra quipped as she raced by. She tossed a cloak at Rynak similar to the one Faustio wore. Your mate sends this. She stays with Red Falcon, as Pretog is on his way. Our visions show you to be in peril and I willna be the bearer of bad news to Xlana.

Being of larger size and four-footed, she quickly passed them and was out of sight before they knew it. But another obstacle ran right into them, sending both Rynak and Faustio to the ground.

Shu’Ni! Faustio cursed in Talgari words Rynak had not heard since childhood. Ye be wet! He glared at her and Rynak wondered if the girl would survive her father’s wrath. Neptune’s Fork! Ye went to the shore, he said. Against me permission.

I swam, she glared back defiantly. I need no one’s permission to swim.

Go again, the Sea Dragon in immortal form warned, and ye’ll find yer wings clipped and me holding the sword that does it.

Rynak’s blood rose to fever pitch and he snagged Faustio’s shoulder. They had no time for guilt if Faustio acted on his current emotions. Already, the sea warrior’s hands were fisted and his whole body shook with fury.

Faustio, you should catch up with the others and keep them in order. I will be along shortly.

The sea warrior did not argue or ask Rynak’s intentions. Odd, he thought, wondering how or when he had earned such trust. Once his brother was beyond the corner, Rynak turned to face Shu’Ni.

Touch me, bird-beast and I will send you to the farthest point in Hell.

He nodded solemnly. He didn’t say a word as his clenched fist connected with her slender jaw. She crumpled to the floor, landing as hard as a plump and heavy raindrop during a thunderstorm. Rynak moved her to a nearby cavern. He worried a mere second about her safety then realized it was out of his hands. To save one of questionable innocence, he could lose hundreds of mortals who did not deserve to die. Their desperate spirits were impossible to ignore. Rynak raced forward and soon caught up with Faustio.

She sleeps for the moment, he told his brother. I beg your forgiveness for my actions, but until we know what she is about, we cannot risk her adding more chaos to the mix. When she awakens, she promises to send me to the farthest point in Hell.

Ar. Ye have me forgiveness. Faustio slowed for a moment and the creases on his face deepened with a frown. Ye be right in keeping her to the side. ‘Twould only serve to distract me if she be up to the mischief I suspect. She be me own blood, but I fear for her soul. She is not the sea darling I raised and I know not why.

Children choose their own destiny, regardless of the love and faith of their parents. We can only pray to The Supreme One and do our best by her.

Aye, that we must. Faustio dried the tears in his eyes. Ye have the making of a good father. Now let’s win this bloody war so ye can start breeding yer own lot!

*

As with the first battle, the mayhem unfolding and the blast of fiery infernos was beyond words. But there was an added tension in the air. The dank breeze screamed Danger! Rynak wished his powers in dragon form were greater than the gifts the Gods had bestowed upon him. As he surveyed the area surrounding the entrance Dykstra had created for the villager’s escape, he asked The Supreme One to strengthen them all and protect them from the Demon’s powers. Then he dashed out to the smoky battlefield of good and evil, where innocent mortals paid the price for the Demon’s demands.

Damp heavy air slipped between the cloak and his skin. By the Gods! How was he supposed to fight or help a villager if his near nakedness bothered him so? Rynak stooped to check the life force of a fallen man. Begging the dead man’s forgiveness, he confiscated the rope acting as a belt and lashed it around his waist. It would have to do.

The sword in his hand felt like a contradiction to his purpose, but Rynak knew it was essential. Pretog and Faustio each carried one as well as knives blessed with holy water under their cloaks. They had agreed to take no chances on this island. Rynak cursed the need for a sword again when he reached to help a woman carrying a child of perhaps ten seasons in her arms. Upon seeing the reason for the boy’s injury, he didn’t blame her for the scowl and curse she yelled at him. Ignoring her reference to his lineage, he lifted the child to his own arms and watched her expression turn to one of surprise. The youth had been stabbed, but Rynak felt innocence within the boy’s soul. He also felt the youth’s life source ebbing.

A blast of fire spewed sand over the three of them and scorched Rynak’s foot, knocking him slightly off balance. He shifted the child in his arms and grabbed for the woman, half lifting her in the air and kept running. Once inside, he carried the boy to the section set aside for the injured and laid him on a bed.

He could hear Czerick ordering the village women about as they tended to patients. Obviously, the sorcerer had found a way to overcome the ladies’ fears and get them to listen, despite the fact they were being insulted and given instructions by a sphere of light.

Rynak turned to go and felt a tug on his sleeve. It was the woman he’d helped to safety. Thank ye, she said. The men that done this are under Karn’s thumb. Watch out fer him, he be acting as if he be the Demon hisself.

I will keep that in mind, my lady. He laid a hand on the boy’s head and uttered a prayer for his health. He was rewarded by a renewed strength in the child’s life force. Your boy will live. If you will ask Czerick for instructions, he can help you tend him. All I ask is that you help him with the others.

The woman’s eyes filled with tears and she readily agreed to his request. He left her after giving her a gentle pat on her back.

Rynak met Faustio and Pretog at the entrance as he was about to make a second run.

The wounded, Faustio said, stopping him with a hand to his shoulder, they be run through with swords.

I’ve seen it, Rynak replied. A woman inside said Karn is leading a group of warriors. He stands as tall as you and me, he said, gesturing toward Faustio. Then he looked out over the field ablaze with patches of fire. He has red hair as burnt as the fiery logs of a cook fire and a scar on his face that splits his cheek.

Know you this how? Pretog asked.

Because he stands fifty stones away and glares at me with the Demon’s fire in his eyes.

Rynak met Karn’s evil stare and knew the mortal was aware of who he was, even if he wasn’t in dragon form. He briefly laid a hand on both men’s shoulders. Supreme One, please provide your workers with the powers of divination. Let them see inside the soul of others and identify the Demon’s followers. Keep Faustio, Pretog, and your other workers from harm. He lowered his arms and turned to face each. You must battle against Karn’s warriors. Look inside their souls and if they haven’t turned, offer them sanctuary. I will face Karn myself. To Pretog, he said, Be careful in the woods. We know of the elf that has turned, but we don’t know how many others he’s led astray. And stay out of circles!

Though both men rushed to speak at once and refused to leave Rynak’s side, they soon recognized the need to stop the killing by Karn’s men. A moment later, Rynak faced Karn, man to man, just as he suspected the mortal had planned.

Xlana’s dragon, Karn spat.

The Demon’s half-breed, Rynak said. Too bad you do not fight for your mother’s honor, instead of your father’s evil. You would fare much better as a mortal with choice than as a dog at his master’s whim. How many other bastard eggs did he spawn?

The muscles in Karn’s jaw twitched and the vein in his wide neck pulsed erratically.

Rynak met the first stroke of Karn’s sword with surprising ease. He had wondered what to expect given the fact he’d been in mortal form for mere days as compared to one hundred seasons as a dragon. As steel pounded against steel, Rynak tuned out the screams and chaos surrounding them. Karn’s sword slashed through the air and Rynak jumped, then rolled to avoid the next strike. He landed on his feet and struck back with enough force to push Karn backward. The devil’s seed barely avoided slamming into a tree.

Twice now you have had me at a disadvantage. I still owe you for this, he said, pointing toward the scar that was blackened and raw.

A man who falls on his own knife has only himself to call a fool, Rynak replied. He swiftly countered Karn’s swing with one of his own, filling the air with a screech of metal.

You pushed me, you damned dragon! He slashed wildly, aiming for Rynak’s throat. Think me a fool, do ye? ‘Twould only be fair to point out you not only come poorly armed but poorly clothed. One slice in your nether regions and Xlana would find me much more appealing.

You have too high a belief in your skills and too low an understanding of Xlana’s intelligence. Rynak struck hard and drew first blood. He praised the Gods for the baptism of his blade in holy water as he watched deep blue streaks begin to cover the woolen covering about Karn’s arm.

Karn snorted, his lips curling in disgust. Xlana is a woman. She is easily tamed once I break her spirit to suit my own.

Rynak’s fury showed itself with a series of slashes, each landing successfully and leaving more telltale signs of the liquid fire draining from Karn’s skin. ‘Tis a weak man who would break a woman’s spirit to bed her. Is that how your father begat you or did your mother go to him like a dog begging for food? ‘Twould only be natural since this is how you serve him.

The answering slam of steel sliced into a tree. Karn cursed. My father is of no consequence to me, nor is the whore who birthed me. You will fight this battle with him, you and your other misshapen friends, and he will be weakened. Though he will win this war, he will no doubt fall at the hands of his sons as we take advantage of his spent energy.

It looks to me that you are the one spending energy, Rynak observed. Do you and your brothers then plan to battle each other for the throne? How curious to see the beasts take revenge upon the master. I wonder if he knows of your intent. Rynak swung again and the steel in his hand vibrated with the force of Karn’s response. Demon of Fire, he yelled. Do you know that your sons unite against you?

Rynak dropped and rolled, narrowly avoiding a blast of fire where he’d just been standing. A second missile fell only inches from Karn’s foot. Karn lashed out, his attack more erratic from rage, his hold on his sword weakened by his fury. Rynak stole the moment, slashing and pushing the mortal past his limits and edging him toward nearby rocks. Each strike brought Karn closer to falling, just as Rynak planned. The devil’s spawn lost his footing and tripped on a small stone. His sword at ready, Rynak went for the final blow…and found himself on the ground several feet from his arch enemy. One of Karn’s men had attacked him from behind, though Rynak couldn’t figure out why the new warrior hadn’t seized the opportunity to kill him. Jumping back to his feet, Rynak began anew with this stranger. Within no time at all, the intruding warrior was on his way to his next life.

Rynak looked back to where he’d last seen Karn. Where was he? Rynak was certain he was alive. Had he run for his life or had the Demon claimed retribution from his willful child?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

>

Faustio clamped a hand on Rynak’s shoulder and quickly realized his mistake. Rynak’s blade swept round and stopped a scant breath away from Faustio’s throat. He inhaled then exhaled a sigh of relief as his brother withdrew his sword.

Neptune’s Fork! Where be Karn?

I don’t know. He was there and then….

Rynak paused and Faustio found his bewildered expression almost laughable, but he restrained himself. He saw frustration in Rynak’s eyes as his chiseled features hardened until the lines in his face were near white with tension.

No doubt he ran when the last of his loyal men fell by your sword. Faustio said. We have three that have chosen a new alliance and sworn an oath to our cause.

Good news, Rynak said.

Faustio wondered how the words had managed to escape Rynak’s clenched teeth. The village is clear and Pretog works with the animals in the woods. By the Seas, what said ye to the boy? He’s shouting to the Gods and freeing the beasts so fast, there be a rampage!

Rynak chuckled and Faustio was no closer to answers. Then his brother stiffened.

Have you seen the elf? Rynak asked quietly. Too quietly. Does he live?

I’ve seen no elves, whatever they be. Faustio’s scalp tingled with dread. What in this crazy land world be an elf anyway?

He is here. I can feel his presence.

The tingle persisted, flowing through the veins of his arms and dancing along his spine. Once again, the Sea Dragon was forced to wonder at Rynak’s capabilities. True, he also had the ability to feel danger when it was nearby, but this went beyond his powers. What was the secret surrounding Rynak’s differences?

If he be here, we will find him, Faustio reassured him and slipped an arm about his brother’s shoulders. Ye look as if ye’ve taken on a thorny shark and need a chance to set and pull out the daggers.

He urged the hesitant dragon-turned-warrior to the entrance of the cave only to find himself being pulled along toward what the others had called Vrlanz Woods. Pretog emerged, a victorious smile on his face as he carried the head of what Faustio could only assume was an elf.

Know you the beast be dead, he announced proudly.

I applaud you, woodsman, Rynak answered, the weariness in his voice proof of his own state of affairs. Then he sighed heavily. But that’s not the right elf.

Pretog sputtered and looked back and forth between Rynak and the head in his hands. Look you at his eyes! They be full of the Demon’s fire.

Rynak lifted one of the creature’s eyelids. You are right, he is of the Demon. But he is not the matted beast that swept Xlana to Karn’s feet. That one lives. I can feel his breath hot on my neck. He looked toward the entrance of the cave and cursed loudly.

Faustio glanced briefly at Pretog, then turned his attention toward whatever had caught Rynak’s gaze and had the fury rising in his brother’s veins. There…standing openly, his fur-covered hands on filthy hair balls that were probably considered hips, was an elf, ten pebbles high and smugly grinning at Rynak.

You die, Rynak bellowed. If I have to kill every one of your kind to get to you!

Faustio was dragged nearly fifty stones before he let go of Rynak, then he raced along side of him. Pretog followed.

Once inside, Rynak snatched the head out of Pretog’s hand and waved it about as if it were a trophy. Hear me, he yelled as he went from one corridor to the next. This is what will happen to any mortal, elf or beast that turns to the Demon of Fire! There is an elf among you who answers the Demon’s command. I want him. Now!

Faustio shivered as he heard the determination in his brother’s voice. Dragon or not, he had never heard the voice of the Gods speak so clearly.

*

You shouldna have said and done what you did with Shu’Ni, Heaven’s Dragon. ‘Twill cost you in the end, Dykstra told Rynak later, as he came out of the cavern where he’d placed the Sea Maiden. She means to keep her promise.

You weren’t here, you could not have heard—

I saw, she answered gravely. Now leave her to me and be on your way.

Rynak shook his head with disgust and continued on his way to check on Xlana.

Dykstra tsked and waddled over, then knelt beside Shu’Ni. She nudged the sleeping Sea Maiden with her head and tsked again as the girl groaned.

Wha-Shu’Ni rubbed her swollen jaw and then cursed. That damnable bird-beast! He hit me! I’ll see him—

Where will ye see him, Sea Maiden? In damnation, spending eternity under the pinch of the Demon of Fire? Just like yourself, eh?

The blood drained from Shu’Ni’s already pale face. How dare ye! I am the daughter of Faustio, the greatest warrior of the Seas.

Faustio is a man of honor. This we know, Dykstra said. But you’re a different tale. You have shown nothing but disrespect and sulkiness since you came.

Look, you ugly sea-cow…. She stopped in mid-sentence, and suddenly backed closer to the wall.

It didna take much for Dykstra to guess that Faustio had warned his daughter of what she could do to the child if she was inclined. Go ahead, she challenged. Finish the thought. It changes naught. My size and shape remains the same and my feelings canna be hurt by your words.

Shu’Ni stopped, her mouth open and her face a cloud of dismay.

For once your words fail you? Dykstra asked. Good. Then perhaps this time you will listen.

The Sea Maiden started to rise and her eyes lit with a piercing glare. Her mouth opened.

Dykstra shoved her back down. Stop while you’re ahead, Shu’Ni. ‘Tis a walk on the dark path you’re on. She considered her words carefully. Sometimes my visions are warnings and the outcome can be changed. Sometimes my visions are destiny unfolding. I pray it not be so in your case, for I see you sleeping in the Demon’s bed. Your fury burns like the hottest flame and you will soon find yourself trapped inside. ‘Tisna too late. Take a look deep inside and find what’s holy and hold on to it.

Tears formed in the girl’s eyes and rolled down fluorescent cheeks. Dykstra’s heart melted.

But they hate me, Dykstra. Everyone hates me, including you.

I do not hate you, Sea Maiden. I hate what you do. Have you not thought the others are treating you just the same as you ask them to? Spit on an elf and he’ll spit right back at you. ‘Tis the same with dragons and immortals. If you give respect, you get it. If you treat them with disdain, they step on you. You didna help your cause when you said ‘twasna your war, but ours. Battling the Demon of Fire leaves no room for misunderstandings or games.

This war, Shu’Ni spat. It’s all about this bloody battle! Only days ago, I had a life and I knew my place. Suddenly, my sister is gone…dead I hope….

You canna mean that! Dykstra was astounded by the child’s fury.

Aye, perhaps not. The girl paused. The lengthy silence lingering between them was broken by a hiccup. But my father’s eyes no longer light up when he looks at me. ‘Tis the first time since I was a child that I would have him as my own. He used to love me. He called me his jewel of the sea. My mother hated me for stealing his affections. They fought. The girl’s eyes closed and Dykstra could see the brief lines of pain. And then she was gone, but Wrelan came. I was her bloody keeper, the warden of an unruly child while my father was lost in his haze of sea grass. I thought….

Dykstra filled in the blanks. You thought he’d look at you now and forget everything else. You thought wrong, child. Life continues and oft times not in the direction we hoped. ‘Tis up to us to grow within that direction and accept the changes.

Changes! What would you know about changes?

‘Twas amazing how the Sea Maiden’s expressions changed within the blink of an eye. It was too bad her loyalties changed as frequently. Was there a way to keep her on the right path?

More than I care to say, Dykstra said sadly. You lost a mother and your father took to weeds. But you have a sister. I have none.

She stared pointedly at Shu’Ni and noticed she had the girl’s attention for the first time. Except for the five of you, I am alone. My Papa took his own life when I was a child. My Mama called him worse than a dog and ruled my life with an iron fist. One day she disappeared as well and I was left alone, with only the memories of her voice-and not a pleasant voice at that. Dykstra blinked, hoping to dispel the memory. Imagine an earthdigger amongst strangers who ran at the sight of me. At least in the sea you be among others who swim. Have you seen a mortal or creature beyond the size of my toe that digs?

Shu’Ni giggled. Can’t say as I have. She was quiet for a moment then the fury was back in her eyes. But that bird-beast!

Och, you canna judge Rynak unless you know his story, lass. Do you know his name means The Holy One? Shu’Ni shook her head. Then you also canna know his importance in this war. He stays apart from the others. ‘Tis his fate to align with only one.

Xlana, Shu’Ni muttered.

Dykstra swore the girl’s emotions were as tempestuous as the seas. Exactly. He and Xlana are the only ones with pure bloodlines to the Gods and Dragons of Talgari themselves. We are here to protect them and to unite with them as one when the time comes. We canna do this with only five. She offered Shu’Ni a smile and was grateful to see it reciprocated. She prayed fervently that she hadna made a mistake by telling more than she should.

You must remain strong, lass. Avoid the fury and stay away from the shores or the consequences be more than you bargained for. She rose from the ground with a groan. Och, my bones are weary and the day is no closer to done.

*

Wrelan was tired, hungry, and very cross. She’d walked for countless strides through the woods. The trees had been pretty at first, with sunlight dancing in dappled patterns through their fresh green leaves. She’d stopped to eat some of her bread in a clearing of lush emerald grass starred with misty blue flowers, and drunk from a spring of clear water that tasted sweet and tangy.

But now night was coming down. The first weird moon lipped over the horizon and its uncanny blue glow flooded the land. The twisted, narrow path sloped steadily upwards, and the trees thinned until she was climbing a steep hill among outcroppings of dark rock. Instead of a soft carpet of leaves underfoot, there was scrubby vegetation and sharp stones. She’d stubbed her toes painfully more than once, despite the stout shoes the old one had given her.

She cursed Rynak for coming into her life and she cursed Papa and Shu’Ni for deserting her. And in spite of the old one’s words-she was convinced she hadn’t dreamed them-she wondered if she was ever going to find her mother. Was she even traveling in the right direction? Only a small, deep-down stubbornness told her if she kept going she would eventually find the Demon’s Palace and Shu’Lan.

The wind blew cold and great banks of cloud formed, sometimes hiding the moon so it gleamed fitfully, casting great, looming shadows. She pulled the thick cloak close around her body, wondering where she could spend the night in some degree of comfort. The faint sound of voices reached her ears. Hmmm-perhaps she’d find another kindly soul to feed her and provide her with a bed. Wrelan crept toward the sound and eventually came to a place that overlooked a valley. Bright fires twinkled below and she could see figures passing to and fro around them. She crouched in the shelter of an oddly shaped rock formation, wondering if it was safe to approach. She decided to try and was rising to her feet when one of the rocks came to life. A big hand clamped ruthlessly down on her mouth, cutting off her scream of terror.

Ho’d yer whisht, ye fool of a wench.

Urrmm… urgg… Wrelan struggled to bite, but she couldn’t. Her mouth felt as if it was trapped in a witchwhale’s jaws.

She thrashed and kicked out backwards, pummeling her captor’s legs with all her strength. The hold on her mouth relaxed a little and she let out a muffled curse. The hand tightened viciously, and then let go. Before she had breath to scream again, she was spun roughly around and a swat that made Shu’Ni’s slaps seem like love-taps descended on her backside. Then she was hoisted through the air like a sack of meal and flung over a broad shoulder.

I said hold your tongue, the voice growled in her ear.

Tears of pain and rage almost choked her, but she kept quiet. After what seemed an age of being bumped and jostled she was suddenly dumped to her feet. She staggered and fell back, landing on her throbbing behind. It was pitch dark. A loud scraping that sounded like a big rock being dragged over stone was followed by a thud. Then came the snick of flints striking together. Sparks flew and a torch blazed into life. It showed a small, closed cave and a young man. He wore a robe of dark patterned cloth, which passed across his chest and fell in folds from waist to knee. His sturdy arms and legs were bare and there was a long knife in his belt. A soft cap with an eagle feather lent him the look of a man who knew his place in the world.

She glowered at him and he reached down and grabbed her arm. Get up. We’ve a ways to go and I’ll carry ye no further.

She shook him off and scrambled to her feet, rage bubbling in her breast.

How dare you lay hands on me! My father is the Demon of Fire and he willIs that so, your highness? He swept off his hat and bowed very low, then straightened up, his face full of laughter. And does your daddy know you’re out wandering the hills o’nights, wi’out so much as a nursemaid to keep ye from killing yourself with your own stupidity?

Wrelan eyed him insolently up and down, from the crown of his wild auburn head to the big leather-wrapped feet planted solidly on the rocky floor, but he was unimpressed.

Och, ye’re no but a silly bairn, he said. And if my father hears ye claiming kin to a demon, he’ll have your head off with his claymore before ye can draw another breath.

She spluttered. She could barely understand a word the stupid lummox said, but his mockery was plain. Don’t dare to call me names, she shrieked.

He laughed aloud. Call ye names? Why, dinna ye understand plain language, ye poor simple creature? A bairn is a baby, which ye certainly are, and a claymore is a great huge sword, as big as yourself. And it’ll lop off your head in a twink, if ye dinna mind your manners.

Wrelan drew herself up and spoke in the poisonously sweet voice that never failed to enrage Papa. Your father must be a most unusual man. I cannot wait to meet him. She smiled innocently. Perhaps if I am polite to him, he will give me a pretty dress to wear, just like yours.

He jumped forward, roaring. Och, ye ignorant Sassenach. Insult my plaid, would ye? He pointed to a dark narrow passage at the back of the cave and gave her a hefty push. Move your worthless carcass, girl, before I beat ye blue.

Mindful of her still-tingling rear and filled with unholy glee that she’d managed to wound the great bully’s vanity, Wrelan turned and fled.

Dawn was breaking when Wrelan and her captor came to the end of the passage. It gave out on a rocky plateau, which overlooked a green glen enclosed by a circle of rough hills that formed a protective wall. A footpath, little more than a goat-track, angled down steeply from the ledge to the valley floor. She hesitated. The path looked almost impossible to follow safely, even in the fast-brightening day.

Get along with ye. The young man gave her a push. And mind ye dinna fall; I wouldna want your highness to hurt yourself.

She shrugged angrily. Her arms were already bruised to the bone from the grip he’d used to keep her from stumbling in the rock-strewn darkness of the passage. Gingerly, she stepped on to the path and immediately slithered several feet. He grabbed her before she could hurtle to the bottom.

Ye’ll break your silly neck at this rate. He scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder again. She longed to pummel him as he set off down the slope, but she was afraid he’d drop her. She screwed her eyes closed tight, clung to him, and endured.

This time when he set her down, she managed to keep her feet. When she opened her eyes, she saw a man approaching. He was broad and tall, dressed in the same kind of robe as her captor, but there were streaks of white in his auburn hair and beard. His face was stern and Wrelan inched back as he came closer.

Niall, where have ye been? he asked. We were afeared Skena’s warriors had ye.

Och, no, Father, the young man replied. But I found this wench skulking by the camp, and I had to carry her home. A man canna travel fast with such a burden.

By Skena’s camp? For what purpose was she there?

Niall shrugged. I canna make sense of her. The poor creature’s half witless. Mayhap you’ll get more from her than I could, Father.

Wrelan cast Niall a look that should have felled him in his tracks and he fingered his knife hilt suggestively. His father’s face was grave.

Depend upon it, lad. The older man turned his shrewd gaze on Wrelan. Lassie, I am Dungadr, Laird of what is left of the McConalls. I have some hard questions to ask ye. Lie to me at your peril.

Wrelan gulped, but managed to keep her voice steady. I do not lie, Lord Dungadr.

Well, then, come along the pair of ye. We’ll away to the house. My wife will be anxious for her boy.

They walked almost the length of the valley, following the course of a stream. Dungadr halted in front of a grassy hillock set against the valley wall. Here we are. Get along in, lassie.

The hillock was a sod hut, the entrance to the dwelling proper. The two men ushered Wrelan into a small room, through a doorway in the farther wall, and into a large cave. A woman sat near a fire set in a hearth of fist-sized stones, busy with a small loom and some bundles of woolen yarn. She rose as they entered, embraced Niall, and kissed his cheek. She was tall and sturdy like her men folk, her auburn hair almost as bright as Niall’s. A russet brown robe covered her from neck to mid-calf and she wore a necklace of polished stones.

This is my wife, Morag, Niall’s mother, Dungadr said. Wife, bring us food. And when we have eaten, this lassie shall tell me her tale or suffer the consequences.

Wrelan glanced furtively at Dungadr. Her stomach clenched from more than hunger. He inspired fear with his piercing stare.

He sat at the head of a great wooden table set to one side of the hearthstones, with Morag at his right hand, and introduced the rest of his family with an air of paternal pride. The unspoken warning laced within his words told her, in no uncertain terms, what would happen to her if she injured any of them. On his left were his sons, Fergus, Donald, and Niall. His daughters, Aila and Caitir, sat next to their mother. They all eyed her with suspicion, if not open hostility.

Now Wrelan, let me have this straight. Dungadr’s brown eyes were hard. Ye told Niall that your father is the Demon of Fire, but now ye claim he is a Sea Dragon. Ye swam here from the Northern Seas, to search for the Demon’s palace where your mother lies. And ye know naught of Skena. He shook his head. Girl, either you’re witless as my son says, or you seek to make a fool of me. Ye shall not do so. Make no mistake, I will kill ye to protect what is left of our Clan.

I’m telling the truth, Wrelan said. Dungadr snorted and she searched her mind for something to convince him. The old one believed me, she said bitterly, why won’t you?

The old one? Morag’s voice was sharp. What do you know of her?

She took me in and fed me. Gave me clothing and bread for the journey.

Come here, child. Show me the brooch that holds the cloak about your neck.

Wrelan approached her warily. This woman looked as capable of killing as the men. She unpinned the brooch and handed it to Morag, who studied it intently, muttering to herself.

The scroll and quill. The hidden star. No creature of Skena’s could wear the likes of this. She pinned Wrelan’s brooch back in place with her own hands. Husband, I dinna know what to make of this tale of demons and sea dragons. All I can tell ye is this lass is not of Skena’s pack, and we must do what we can to aid her. If she searches for her mother, we must see her on her way.

She’ll no get far with Skena’s warriors about, Niall said.

Who is this Skena? Wrelan asked.

Skena is a warrior queen and a witch, lassie, Dungadr said. The cruelest enemy a body could face. Two of my brothers she killed, one by such torture as even the devil would shrink from. My nieces and nephews she took and turned to her use. And my eldest daughter…my Raghnaid… he shook his head. I canna speak of it. But if ever I get this Skena in my hands, she’ll pay for her sins in full. I, The McConall, swear it.

He rose, and his sons and daughters with him. Morag, see to Wrelan’s needs. Tomorrow, Niall shall take her and set her on her way.

CHAPTER TWELVE

>

Elghar, the demon’s elf, chuckled. Thrilled he was by the merry chase he’d led the black-haired giant. The fury on the immortal’s face had been clear and loud curses had filled the caverns. The useless mortals spared from the Demon’s purging fires had been terrified by the sight of the immortal called Rynak brandishing his fellow elf’s head. So, the immortal thought he could stop the work of his lord with threats? Elghar had managed to turn many of his friends toward the path of darkness over the last two days. Better the giant tell tales of riches, glory and eternal freedom to roam the earth as a mortal might; it worked much better than threats.

Elghar slipped under the cover of darkness as two figures approached. He peered out, amazed to see the large hairy dragon and the woodsman oaf he had narrowly escaped at Xlana’s cabin. Och, he shivered with delight. What could he learn that he could pass on to his new master?

I’m telling you, Pretog, we face much evil within, Dykstra said.

Think you I be blind? The woodsman brought the giant hair dragon to a halt. Know you that my gifts are the same as yours. See I the pictures of things to come.

Do your pictures show you sharing the Sea Maiden’s bed?

Be you jealous or simply a fool? Pretog asked, his tone withering. Think you I be foolish enough to cross the will of the Gods? She be a comely wench, but not worth the wrath of the Gods of Heaven, Earth and Seas. Or yours… He paused, his gaze narrowing on his companion. Know you that you spend as much time pursuing the Sea Dragon as his water-brained daughter spends doting on me?

By the Gods! You think me in league with Faustio? The dragon’s bellow shook the walls and floor of the huge cavern.

Be you not? Hours ago the two of you hovered close and whispered. Then you disappeared. What be I to think?

You should think on the fact we be mated and ‘tisna something I take lightly, she countered.

Why be that, Earth Dragon? the woodsman asked in a tone that sounded as if he was more interested than not.

He leaned against the earthen walls and stared, while the dragon in question pawed the floor and looked in every direction but the one where her mate stood. She sniffed loudly and seconds later, a horrible cloud of sticky fluid covered the cavern and Elghar. Demon’s Fire, the elf thought. Blast the disgusting beast into the Lake of Hell!

Know you that you sneeze when be you nervous?

I sneeze when the hairs of my nose are tickled with dust.

So say you, Pretog answered.

Elghar had the feeling the woodsman didn’t believe his mate any more than he did. Their entire conversation ‘twas interesting beyond belief. Both tried hard to pretend they were mated against their will, yet Elghar observed their posturing, which proved otherwise. It was as if they were in a dance of push and pull, much like the mating rituals in the elfin world.

Best we focus on the problems at hand, the Earth Dragon said after a lengthy delay.

Elghar’s ears perked up. This could be of value.

The damned elf is far from our clutches and causes chaos amongst his own. The Sea Maiden works hard to disobey her father’s every command. The villagers of my island are on the verge of riot and oh, yes, Pretog continued, Rynak and Xlana are consumed with a need to breed, leaving everyone in their path in heat. Have I missed anything?

Karn waits outside the caves, hovering like a wolf on the prowl, Dykstra said. Thank the Gods for those like Red Falcon, who choose to swear their allegiance to our cause and keep your villagers from causing real harm.

There are others, Pretog answered quietly. Karn’s own warriors keep the peace on this side of the caves.

Have you seen the image of Shu’Ni sharing the demon’s bed? Dykstra asked.

Aye. See I this. It troubles me to think of one of our own….

You speak as though you have other thoughts you choose not to share.

Think I of Xlana and Rynak. Know you that their love is real? Question you at times what that must feel like?

To know that you couldna live if your mate dies? Aye. The question often whispers through my mind, Dykstra admitted.

Och, such foolish creatures, Elghar thought. He took what he felt relevant from the conversation and slid quietly along the wall. He had heard enough. Karn was waiting and he would reward Elghar quite nicely for the news that Xlana remained chaste.

*

Faustio paced the length of the cave beneath the waters, from one island to the next. His thoughts were as turbulent as the deep, dark loch above. Overhead, he could hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Thunder clapped loudly, each in time with the bursts of pain inside his head. Arr. He’d been long without the weeds that kept him from troubling, painful memories. Shu’Lan before she had left him, eagerly embracing the Demon’s world.

You have need to talk, Dykstra said. I feel your pain and share your memories.

Faustio caught himself before he jumped in surprise. She had entered the chamber with footsteps quieter than he would have given her credit for. Had he been that deep in thought? Neptune’s Fork! Have ye no grace to leave a man’s mind in privacy?

Och, laddie, I didna ask to see your pain. We seem to share a common thread, you and I. Your mind calls out to mine and I havena choice but to answer. She paused. Has it always been so?

Aye, he whispered. Who knows why? Perchance our lineage was crossed in ages past, or our families shared the same sorcerer. Mayhap misery simply invites company.

Tell me your misery and I will share mine with you, she invited.

They are the same. Unrequited love. I was a foolish, headstrong dragon who failed to see beyond me own nose. Faustio stopped and slumped to the ground, leaning his head on his knees for a moment before he raised it to look at her. I was beside meself with pride when Shu’Ni was born. She was the beginning and end of me every day. So much so that I ignored me beloved immortal who birthed her.

She slid to the earth beside him. Your smile is out of place, Sea Dragon. You have no need to feign emotions with me.

Thank ye, lassie. ‘Tis good to be meself and share with a kindred spirit. He sighed as the memories flashed, hard and fast. I was teaching Shu’Ni everything I knew, foolishly believing she could absorb it all within her first year of life, all the while neglecting Shu’Lan and her needs. I pushed me wife away, spending all hours of the day babbling about me baby’s smile, her tiny delicate hand circling me finger. She had the most enchanting fragile wings.

You should cling to the fond memories, Dykstra said. They will comfort you in your elder seasons.

The present and the future are both dark for me, Faustio replied. By me own stupidity, I all but shoved me wife into the Demon’s bed. I killed the love between us just as surely as I murdered one daughter and put another in danger. What kind of father does this? His voice cracked and his breath came in sobbing waves. He planted a fist in the soggy earth beside him, furious at himself and his need for the weeds that he’d found comforting over the years.

You are a good father, Faustio. You love your daughters, and I believe you still love your wife. You did not kill anyone. Wrelan lives, but she follows her own destiny. When given the chance to end your wife’s life, you chose to banish her, all the while holding on to a tiny hope that you would someday find a way to cleanse her of evil and live as the Gods ordained.

Faustio was shocked. Ye see this? Ye see Wrelan alive and well? Ye see the end of me marriage?

Dykstra nodded. I do not understand the Gods’ plan in allowing me to see the past. I know it is not to be spoken of, but if it brings you comfort….

Sweet Dykstra, he murmured. Always thinking of others and never of yerself. ‘Tis what I never understood about ye. I still do not. Ye have the chance to bring Pretog to his knees, but ye refuse.

We are different, Sea Dragon, she said. You see the challenge and respond with all your might. I see the challenge and wonder if I’m able to stand, let alone win.

Ar. The fight is within yer mind. Whether ye win or lose the war, it happens here first. He tapped her forehead with the tip of his finger. Ye brave the worst of evils, yet ye lack confidence. Why is this?

Is it braver to face the wounds of your youth or to face the war between good and evil?

A question for a question. He chuckled and faced her soberly. I know a bit of the wounds of youth. The words that nip ye in the arse are the same words that thrust ye forward. Dykstra smiled, a tiny upward tilt to her mouth, and Faustio was pleased. Were ye told ye were uglier than the mast of pirate ship run aground?

She giggled. No.

Ar, uglier than a witchwhale with the scrubs then.

No.

Well then, what be ye uglier than?

She was silent for precious moments. My mother insisted that dragons were the strongest and the bravest. To be the only female dragon was to be the most revered. But I don’t feel revered. I feel like a freak.

At last Faustio understood. She’d been taught the legends and knew Dragons of Talgari were always male. No wonder she felt awkward around the others. I take it yer mother consorted with a sorcerer?

Dykstra nodded, her shame evident by the hanging of her chin.

Me father seduced the daughter of his best friend. Once the word was out, we were cast out of the realm and left to find our own way in the Black Seas. Faustio sighed. Me mother died of a broken heart and I returned to curse me father in his watery grave.

But at least you’re not a curiosity of nature. You were begotten in the natural way of things.

If ye be a freak, ye be the best looking dragon with the sweetest sounding voice. So, ye think yer mother be the first to consort with a sorcerer? Dykstra rose to her feet, the wavy fur about her face straightened by shock. And ye think the Gods and the Dragons of Talgari be not aware of her conjuring? There be male and female dragons in the beginning. How else could ye explain the thousands of years before the alliance? Have ye given thought to how Pretog came to be? Faustio could see she had not. Yer mama was not the first, though she might have been the last once the alliance was made. ‘Twas only natural the Gods would find a way to mate the Chosen Ones. He paused, allowing his words to sink in. That bein’ the case, suppose ye set yer mama’s foolish words aside and let the tides of life take ye where they will?

Faustio watched as Dykstra’s pain dwindled, her eyes a window to her thoughts as she considered the possibilities of a future with Pretog. He waited for the moment to come when she asked for his assistance in making the transformation to immortal form and was as dismayed as she was when her efforts failed.

‘Twill happen when ye least expect it. When ye lower yer guard and feel loved, yer form will change. As will yer life, he predicted with a wink. Then he left her to her thoughts, his spirit lifted by their conversation.

*

Wrelan and Niall left the valley before dawn. Niall carried the pack Morag had made up for Wrelan’s journey-food and water, and the gift of a necklace for Shu’Lan, once she was found. The moon was still high above the horizon when the young man pushed the rock away from the cave at the beginning of the passage, and the two stepped out into the open.

And which way would you have me go? Niall asked. Does your highness ken where this Demon’s Palace is?

Wrelan looked around, trying to tune in to the deep-seated feeling that would tell her which direction to take. To the east, she said at last.

Niall huffed. A fool’s errand, I shouldna wonder. I still say you’re a half-wit and should be pent up, where ye can do no harm to yourself nor anyone else.

Wrelan ignored him. When he wasn’t maintaining a disapproving silence, he was busy thinking up new ways to insult her. She set off down the track at a swinging walk. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed. A fine pleasant day this was going to be, she thought, with him sulking like a beaten child. She was glad Dungadr had ordered him to return home once he’d seen her safely out of Skena’s vicinity, or she might have had to put up with him for the rest of her journey. The thought of Skena reminded her of the Laird’s anguish over his daughter, and she wondered what the witch had done to the girl. Perhaps Niall would stop sulking for long enough to tell her.

What happened to Raghnaid, your sister? she asked.

Skena has her, he replied shortly. He kicked savagely at a stone that lay in his path. She’s now the bitch’s servant. Better she were dead.

Couldn’t you rescue her?

He gave her a burning look of contempt. Ye prating fool. Do you not think we’ve tried? Did you not hear my father tell of his two brothers killed and all their young ones taken? Now still your tongue. Your yapping will have her warriors down upon us before ye know it.

They continued in silence as the sun came up, doubling back almost to Skena’s camp, then turning to cross the shoulder of a great hill. The track twisted between masses of granite rock, where countless warriors could have lain in ambush. Niall went cautiously, stopping to listen intently at each bend. He kept Wrelan behind him, and she crept along hardly daring to breathe. Once, he turned and caught her arm, pulling her down behind a rock with his finger to his lips. For what felt like an eternity, they sat silently as Niall continued to listen. The only sound she heard was the pounding of her heart against her breast. She shifted uncomfortably and felt the wrath of Niall’s glare. Long moments later, he stood and held out his hand to help her up. They trudged on.

What an awful place! Whatever lay in store for her at the Demon’s Palace, she felt she would be better off there than in Skena’s clutches. Eventually, they came out of the rocks and faced a long narrow glen. Niall relaxed visibly and Wrelan let out a long overdue sigh.

We’ll go a ways further, then stop for a bit, he said. And a bite to eat wouldna come amiss.

He sounded almost friendly, and Wrelan looked at him from under her lashes. His face was pleasing when it wasn’t wearing a sullen scowl. And the play of muscles in his shoulders was fascinating. She wondered what he thought of her. With the strong nose and pewter-gray eyes she’d inherited from her father, she knew her face wasn’t pretty. And he’d probably much prefer Shu’Ni’s dainty body. Not that she cared. Shu’Ni was welcome to him. She was so lost in thought, she gave a small shriek when a bird shot up with a crack of beating wings from the vegetation in front of them.

Run, lassie. Save yourself, Niall yelled.

She stood transfixed as two burly warriors burst from the cover of some bushes a stone’s throw ahead. Niall thrust her behind him, and she started to run back towards the rocks. One of the warriors started after her, but his companion stopped him.

Leave her, he called. We’ll catch her at our leisure when we’ve dealt with this dog.

The sounds of fighting gave speed to her feet. Then a sharp cry from Niall stopped her in her tracks. She turned to see him struggling in the grip of both warriors, a knife pressed to his throat. She longed for Shu’Ni’s gift of traveling anywhere by thought, so she could return to the glen for help. But it would do no good, for she wouldn’t be able to bring even one of the family back, and traveling by normal means would take far too long to save him. Even as she watched, the knife at Niall’s throat drew bright blood.

Noooo! she screamed.

The warriors turned toward her. Hold the dog, Cerdic, the larger one said, while I have some fun with his wench. ‘Twill pleasure him to watch before we cut his throat.

The other laughed. Aye, Dimmoc, do you so. But leave some of her for me.

Wrelan was shaking inside, but she glared malevolently at Dimmoc. Come no closer, she warned. I am the Daughter of the Demon of Fire, and you shall die in agony should you dare to harm me or my companion.

Dimmoc guffawed and continued toward her. She stretched her hands out desperately. Shu’Lan could shoot fire from her palms-she must have passed some gift along to her daughter. Wrelan closed her eyes and tried with all her will to do something…anything…that would help. Her fingers tingled. Something was happening! She looked at her hands. A ribbon of pale lavender smoke curled from her hands and floated out into the air. She stamped her foot in disgust. What use was being a demon seed if all you could produce was colored smoke? Now she and Niall were going to die a disgusting death at the hands of these barbarians. She could have cried.

The softly tinted cloud stretched toward Dimmoc, small purple violets scattered along its length. The man threw back his head and laughed.

A pretty trick, sweeting. He chuckled. But I doubt ‘twill do a warrior harm.

He stepped closer and the smoke curled around him. His laughter changed to a foolish grin, his eyelids fluttered, and he sank gently down onto the turf. A loud snore issued from his open mouth as a rain of violets pattered onto his face. Cerdic gaped at his fallen comrade and his knife dropped from his hand. Niall squirmed from his grasp and dealt him a heavy blow to his middle. The warrior doubled over. His chin connected with Niall’s upraised knee and the oaf fell to the ground as oblivious as his friend. Niall dragged him to where Dimmoc lay and dropped him.

He grinned broadly at Wrelan. Did ye ever see such a pretty pair?

Wrelan shook violet petals from her fingers and stared at the little wisps of lavender still curling from her hands. Now that the danger had passed, she felt dazed and shaken.

Niall put one long arm around her. Wrelan, my lass, I take back all the bad I’ve ever said of ye. His face was suddenly serious. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it warmly. Lassie, you’re the bravest girl I ever met, even if ye do have some strange notions about dragons and the like. But however did ye manage that thing wi’ the smoke?

Wrelan shook her head. No matter how many times she told him the truth, he would never believe it.

Och well, he said. Keep your secret. He drew his knife from its scabbard. Now, go along down the path a ways. I must deal with these two and it’s no sight for a lassie.

Wrelan hadn’t gone far along the track when Niall caught up with her. He was panting slightly and his face was grave.

We must hurry, lassie. That Dimmoc wore the badge of a captain, and Skena will know before the hour is gone that he’s dead. She’ll know who killed him, besides.

How can she? Wrelan asked.

He pointed. A shadow flitted overhead, a smoke-gray bird flew above them, half-transparent against the bright sky. Only its eyes had color, a pale violet blue, like flames. It watched them closely, circling on ragged wings, its head twisting on a long, sinuous neck.

Skena’s eyes. Niall’s voice was grim.

Wrelan shuddered. Will she come after us?

Aye. To the ends of the earth, if she’s a mind to it. And what she’ll do if she catches up to us I dare na tell ye.

Niall seized her hand and began to run, pulling her along with him. He had picked up their bundle of supplies and it bounced heavily on his shoulder as he ran. The bird gave a harsh cry and followed.

We must cross the glen as fast as we can, he panted. There are places she canna see us, up in the hills.

They ran until the breath sobbed and caught in Wrelan’s throat. There was a burning ache in her side. She was blinded by salt sweat dripping into her eyes, but she ran doggedly on, trying not to hold Niall back. At last, he grunted and pointed ahead. She blinked and squinted. There, blessedly, were the outcroppings of rock that marked the foothills. The track became rough and very steep. She fell stumbling to her knees and he pulled her up. She felt his strength seeping into her and somehow she managed to go on. Suddenly, he plunged into a small gully, slipped between two huge boulders and bundled her into a cave.

He panted and blew, pacing the small confines of the stony chamber. Wrelan hung her head. Her chest heaved as she labored to draw breath into her lungs. At last her breathing eased and she slid down onto the ground. It felt so good to rest, but she knew they wouldn’t be able to stay there for long. She could hear the rending cries of the bird, and she pictured it wheeling overhead, searching for them. Even though it could no longer see them, it could surely give Skena a good idea of where they were. She glanced at Niall, who had stopped his pacing and was leaning against the wall of the cave, his eyes closed. The cut on his neck where Cerdic’s knife had slashed him was bleeding, dropping crimson splashes onto the dark russet of his plaid.

The bundle of supplies lay on the ground. She opened it and took out the water flask, then ripped a piece off the cloth wrapping and dampened it. Gently, she began to clean the wound. It looked sore and angry, and his teeth sank into his lip as he changed a groan into a curse. He pulled the bundle toward him and extracted another small flask.

It’s a shame to waste this, but I canna risk dying from the bite of that cur. He opened the flask and placed it in Wrelan’s hands. Pour a few drops onto the cut. But be careful, lassie, it’s powerful strong. Dinna use too much.

She tilted the flask slowly and clear amber liquid dripped onto Niall’s neck. He winced as it flowed into the wound, then he took the flask back and held it to his lips.

That’s better, he sighed. Take a wee sip, lassie, it’ll do ye good.

She tipped the flask too far and got a mouthful, gulping it before she was ready. It burned like fire all the way down and she choked and strangled, her eyes watering.

I told ye to be careful, Niall said, his voice full of laughter.

Arghhh, she gasped. What is it?

He took the flask from her, stoppered it firmly and stowed it in the bundle. It’s whiskey, lass, and I warned ye just to sip. Now ye’ll be tipsy, like as not, and I’ll have to carry ye again.

What’s tipsy? Wrelan giggled. Her vision blurred, the rocks of the cave weaving together as one. Niall’s scowl seemed less frightening…almost cute.

It’s what ye are at this minute, Niall said severely, but his eyes were twinkling. Pull yourself together, now. We must be off soon.

Och, Wrelan said, but willna the bird follow us?

Niall made a mock-threatening gesture. Make fun of me speech, would ye? Never you mind the bird. There are ways through these hills and we’ll be stay underground till we’re out of its ken.

Wrelan walked a few steps and pressed her hands to her head. I feel dizzy-as if I’m floating in the sea. Niall, what is happening to me?

He dug his hand inside the pack and held out a white floating substance. At least it looked like it was floating to her.

Here lass, eat a piece of bread and ye’ll soon feel more yourself. I should not have let ye drink.

She ate the bread and gradually the lightness in her head dissipated. That…whiskey…made our danger seem small and easy to face, she said. Is it always like that?

It depends, Niall said. If ye take too much, ye can fall senseless. And some it makes maudlin, so they cry and fret. But mostly, if ye take just a sip, it warms ye and gives ye a little comfort.

Like Papa when he ate the weed, she mused. She’d always been disgusted when Faustio had cried and wallowed or laughed without reason after his outings to the weed fields. Now she realized it had been despair and loneliness that had driven him to it, so he could forget-for a little while-the pain of losing Mama. More than ever, she longed to reunite her parents. She stifled the small voice whispering that Faustio might not be her father and felt impatient to be off. I feel better now. Can we go? she said.

For sure we can. Give me your hand and be careful. There is little light in the tunnels, and the way is rough.

She followed him through the labyrinth of passages, some so low they had to crawl, until it seemed they’d traveled for an eternity. At length they came out into a small glen. It was getting dark, the sky a deep translucent blue. They scanned the heavens carefully, but there was no sign of the shadowy bird. A single star glimmered high up, small and silver, and impossibly far away. The first moon, waning now into a sickle, thrust its tip over the shoulder of the hill.

We shall stop here for the night, Niall said Ye must be tired and hungry, my lass.

Wrelan nodded, too weary to speak, and they went back into the cave. Wordlessly, she opened the pack and set out bread and cheese and small apples. They satisfied their hunger and drank from a trickle of water that fell into a hollow worn by the continual dripping. There was no fire, just a tiny shuttered lantern from the pack. They huddled close together under Wrelan’s cloak and very soon she was asleep.

When she woke, a little gray light was filtering into the cave. She yawned and nestled close to Niall’s warmth and he stirred, pulling her closer to him. This was even nicer than the old one’s cozy bed. How tempting it was to snuggle down and drift back into sleep, rather than face the daunting prospect of another day of weary travel through who knew how many strides of caves and passages. But Niall was awake, no doubt disturbed by her movements. He was up and bustling as soon as he opened his eyes. After a hasty meal, they were on their way again.

They went quickly across the glen and into another cave, this one in the highest, roughest hill Wrelan had yet seen. Niall seemed uneasy, and once or twice stopped to listen, every muscle in his body tense. She strained her own ears, but there was nothing save the distant plink of water dripping, and now and then a faint, far-off echo. What do you hear? she whispered.

I thought it was the chink of mail. But it canna be. They canna know where we are.

They stood for a while longer, and Niall finally turned. I canna hear it any more. We should go.

He didn’t stop again, but he quickened the pace so she found it hard to keep up with him. It was a long time before she lost the feeling that at any minute Skena’s warriors would find them, and she’d feel a killing knife between her shoulder blades.

At what she judged must be mid-morning, they came to a subterranean lake. It stretched away into the depths of the cavern like a sheet of obsidian and was lit from below by violet blue fire that writhed and flared incessantly, casting an eerie light about the rocky den. Wrelan crept to the water’s edge. The drowned flames dazzled her and she thought she was back at the old one’s hearth. She started as the woman’s clear voice spoke in her ear.

Through the waters of the North you have come, and through the bowels of the earth. Now you must brave the dark flame, Daughter of Sea and Fire.

Wrelan shook her head and the visions fled. What is this place? She spoke softy, but her voice echoed in a repetitious, distorted song and she shivered.

We are deep beneath Dundreggan, Niall replied. But come away, lassie. The water is full of dangers.

The dread in his voice lingered in the air long after he’d spoken. Dundreggan?

It means the Hill of Dragons. It is said there were Earth Dragons here once, to guide men and protect them from evil. But they are long gone, and none who have tried to cross that lake have returned to tell what lies beyond.

It is where I must go. She was certain of it; she could feel the pull from within. Her destiny lay at the other side. She shuddered, fully aware of the price she might pay for this trek she had begun.

Nay lassie. Ye canna know what you’re saying.

I must. I feel it.

He sighed, deep creases forming in his forehead, making her wish she could smooth them away. Very well, lassie. Then I shall come with ye.

She shook her head. I go alone and you return to your Clan, as you promised your father.

How can ye cross the water? Are ye mad? Ye’ll drown, for sure.

She laughed softly, and the echoes laughed back, not mocking, but sweet and clear. I’m the daughter of the Sea Dragon. I can swim like a fish.

He looked at her for many heartbeats then he nodded. You must do what your spirit tells you, my lassie. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms about her. Wrelan, I shall be seventeen when the frost comes. I must choose a wife. If I have my way, she’ll have silver hair and eyes the color of the loch on a quiet evening. Do ye understand me?

She gazed into his eyes, warm brown in the dim light, and nodded. She unpinned the old one’s brooch from her cloak and fastened it to the plaid over his heart. The Gods keep you safe, she whispered.

She knew there was little likelihood they would ever meet again, but there would never be another for her. It may be that she would end her days secluded like the old one, but it was out of her hands. He kissed her, a long and sweet caress against her lips, and her heart stirred as his love wrapped her like a warm cloak.

There was a sharp sound behind them, and she felt all his muscles tense as he sprang away, thrusting her behind him. She gasped in horror. Ten of Skena’s warriors stood in the gloom. The blue fire struck sparks from their mail and the long, wicked swords in their hands. Could she stun that many with her smoke before the two of them were overpowered or killed? She stretched her hands, but she wasn’t given time to find out.

Go, Niall said. Follow your spirit, and never look back. Farewell, my bonnie lass. My love goes with ye.

He gave her a great push and she fell into the water. And before she could break free, the current took her and she was whirled down into the flame-lit depths.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

>

Xlana sighed with pleasure. At last, she and Rynak had escaped the chaos of the villagers for some stolen time to be together. She leaned against his chest, once again marveling at the perfection beneath her fingertips. He was whole, he was safe, and he was hers. She gently stroked his nipple, which was so much like her own, yet so different. She smiled as his breath caught in his throat.

My love, she murmured, why is it that I may touch you, but I must be tormented by the lack of your attention?

Simple, he said. Every time I am near you or kiss your lips, caress your skin, I become obsessed with the need to lay you down and ravish you for days on end.

Hmm. She slipped beside him, took his hand and tugged him toward their bed. I’ve never been ravished or obsessed. Lay beside me, my love, and teach me what it means to be ravished. It sounds quite tempting.

He chuckled, but the harder she tugged, the more he held his ground. Very tempting, he ground out between clenched teeth. But we do not have enough days at hand. We do well to steal moments, let alone hours or days.

Xlana lay down on the leafy bed recently covered with soft animal fur. She tugged at the tie binding her makeshift clothing together and unveiled her body for Rynak’s view. Since we do not have the luxury of several moons sleep, perchance we can make do with our stolen moments.

She saw the rapid rise and fall of Rynak’s chest and heard his raspy breathing. Very good. Gazing down, she noticed she had his attention in his nether regions as well. Excellent. Lidia had proved herself very wise in her instructions on the art of seduction. But why did Rynak still hold himself back? Surely he needed her as much as she needed him. He stepped closer, his pale gray eyes turned lavender and wide with wonder. She could feel the heat of his gaze searing every inch that she’d uncovered.

You make it very hard for me to resist.

Xlana tsked. Then why should you try? We are together as the Gods have ordained.

But the Demon works his evil within our very midst. His voice was hoarse with need and she noticed his body trembled as he sought to bring it under control.

We are behind the golden curtain, beloved. We are safe and secure, and I’m certain the others can contain any skirmishes between the villagers. Come and lie beside me. I need your comfort…your kiss…your touch—

His control snapped. He was undressed and beside her before she could draw the next breath, which was shared in a soul-searing kiss that promised an eternity of love. She didn’t know what had changed his mind, nor did she care. With his body pressed against hers, his hands roaming her curves and his mouth on her own, she had everything she wanted in this world. Together, they learned the art of give and take, the delicacy and demands of their union. Earth-shattering kisses were soon not enough. The gentle caresses became more urgent.

I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you, Rynak whispered in her ear, plying her ear lobes with his mouth and tongue. I knew the Gods would have a way for us to be together.

And we are together, she agreed, reaching her hand to stroke the most delicate part of his immortal anatomy. In every way but one. Surely we can remedy that, she teased with a mischievous grin.

Your every wish is my command, he said.

He took his time, however. His large warm hands trailed a path from her forehead to her navel and then beyond. Xlana quivered with delight. Oh, how she loved the feel of his touch. She caught fire with the stroke of his finger, her mind and soul melting in the passion he ignited.

He rose above her and their mouths met again with a hunger she had never felt before. Would she survive their lovemaking? Already, she wondered where she ended and he began. It was as if they’d been molded together, each of their parts designed to fit neatly into the other’s.

Now, beloved, we will be one, Rynak breathed.

Yes. As the Gods ordained. I want this. I want you, she said, pulling him closer and arching against him.

Xlana! Shu’Ni’s voice cried out from the corridor. You’re needed, Xlana!

Go away, Rynak yelled back. In a move belying his size, he slipped to Xlana’s side to protect her from the prying eyes of the Sea Maiden.

I can’t, Shu’Ni said. Lidia sent me. ‘Tis the boy.

Xlana’s attention was immediately seized, her passion shoved aside as mercy prevailed. She looked at Rynak and begged his forgiveness. I have to go. If something happens to him—

I know, he replied sharply. Her pain must have shown in her eyes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I meant to say that I understand.

But the timing… She offered him a small smile.

Aye, the timing and the messenger could be better.

She gazed at him questioningly. You don’t like her, do you?

He shrugged. I do not trust her. I have visions….

What kind of visions do you have about the Sea Maiden? Xlana didn’t care if she sounded jealous. She was.

Not the kind you think, he said. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll accompany you to attend the boy. This may be a trap.

A trap? she whispered. Shu’Ni? Why would she—

Think about it, Xlana. She thinks of herself first, everyone else and the war second. She disobeys every order her father gives, she slips off to the water, and—

And she wants you, she finished for him. To attain that, she must first get rid of me.

No, love. To attain that, she must be you. ‘Tis you I fell in love with, not just your beauty or your wit. All of you.

Xlana’s heart leapt in her chest. What had she done to deserve this dragon’s love?

Xlana, we must hurry, Shu’Ni called out. Lidia says the boy is with fever. His body jerks like a shark trapped within the jaws of a killer whale. There was a moment of silence from the girl, but Xlana heard footsteps as she entered the small cavern. Where are you?

The words were enough to have Xlana instantly up and out of bed, her clothing in place. With a glance to see that Rynak was equally clothed, she slipped through the golden curtain and heard Shu’Ni’s gasp as the Gods’ provision for privacy disappeared.

What was that? The annoying little tart had the gall to rush over and see if she could find a trace of the curtain. I looked when I came in, but I didn’t see either of you. I just heard your voices. What magic did you use?

None of your business, Rynak snapped. If the boy is as dangerously ill as you say, perchance you should ignore what you think you saw and lead us to him.

Shu’Ni tsked. As you wish, but it certainly sounds as if someone came away unsatisfied.

Xlana lost what control she’d struggled hard to recover, having been left at the brink of completion. She’d had enough of Shu’Ni’s unwanted displays of affection and Rynak’s unkind remarks. She whirled on both. His satisfaction is my concern, not yours. She glared at the Sea Maiden and was pleased as the girl took a step backward. Best you learn your place, fish girl. The words you spout leave questions as to your purity, and were it not for your father….

Shu’Ni’s eyes narrowed and her stance, hands parked on hips, sparked of challenge. You would do what?

I would gut you and serve you for dinner! Xlana looked over and noticed the twinkle of amusement in Rynak’s eyes. And I would serve dragon pie for dessert, she warned in a tone that wiped the humor from his demeanor. With that, she whirled again and was off to see about the boy. His life was at stake and here she was arguing with two nitwits. She reprimanded herself as she went. She didn’t bother to listen or see if they followed.

*

It seems you are well mated after all, Shu’Ni muttered as Xlana disappeared beyond a corner. A dragon for a dragon.

Perchance you should simply exercise better timing, Rynak said. If the boy is not as bad as you say…. He stopped running for a moment to scan her speculatively.

You think I would lie to disturb your entertainment?

Rynak sighed heavily. I don’t know what I think when it comes to you. I only know that you have the discomforting nature of saying one thing and doing another. He looked in the direction Xlana had last taken. His first obligation was to her and she may be headed to a trap. He left Shu’Ni sputtering in the corridor as he quickened his pace to catch up with his mate.

*

Neptune’s fork, child, have ye gone and done it again? Faustio asked as he turned a corner and faced his daughter. Rynak runs as if he’s caught in orange tide, struggling against the current and muttering yer name as if yer the Demon hisself. What did ye do?

I interrupted their pleasure, she said.

Apurpose?

Nay. Her own father questions her motives? She ground out the word in two syllables and kicked at a loose pebble. It landed so hard that it stuck in the earthen walls. I was sent to look for Xlana by that foul smelling mortal, Lidia.

Ar, must be the boy takes a turn for the worse. I trust ye handled yer task…er… delicately?

Shu’Ni felt her emotions burn. Nay, father, I burst inside their chambers and yanked the land-witch from her bed! The glare she sent him should have set him afire. Of course I was delicate. ‘Twas the bird-beast that acted out of turn. He bellowed, all the time insisting I was laying a trap for his beloved Xlana. He made me sound as if I were a sea-siren casting a net for a mate-as if any mate would do!

Faustio’s eyes narrowed. Ye do seem to be fishing in the wrong waters.

Furious, she forgot all the speech lessons she’d learned in school. What would ye have me do, lordly Sea Dragon? Do ye see any of our kind in this dark hole? Seems the Gods saw fit to bond everyone but me. Am I to live and die with my maidenhead intact?

Her father turned green with disbelief. Holy Atlantis! Must ye be so forthright? ‘Tis unseemly for a maiden of royal birthright.

Royal birthright? she scoffed. Since when have ye claimed the kingdom of yer forefathers? Never in my life have I heard ye speak a kind word of those who came before us. What was going on with him? Within the last few days, he’d claimed the title King Faustio and stood three pebbles taller. Did he seek to rise above his station in life, or had he made peace with the Gods over the lack of benevolence from his parent? Or was the bird-beast preying upon her father’s need for acceptance? Yer lordship, I beg yer forgiveness, she said with a mocking curtsy. Henceforth, I shall be mindful of me words and speak according to me station.

Watch yer tongue, daughter. Ye speak as if ye change yer allegiance. Mind ye, there be no place for the Demon’s own-especially amongst our ranks.

Now he questioned her loyalty! Her fisted hands shook with fury. What would ye do, father dear? Would ye strike me down as ye did Wrelan? Did ye not think I’d notice what side of the wall my sister was on when it fell? Tell me, King Faustio, how does it feel to kill? Ye would sacrifice all that ye love for what? These…peasants…or is it for the praise of his lordship, Rynak, perfect son of The Almighty Dragon? She paused, more to catch her breath than because of the pain she saw in his eyes. Tell me, father, so that I may know the cause of me death! Shoot me with the silver current ye used against me mother!

Faustio fell to his knees, an arm across his middle as if he’d been struck by sword. Shu’Ni moved toward him, regret curdling her stomach, the words she’d spewed at him frozen in the air between them. Och, what she’d give to take back every one. She had never seen her father in such pain, his pewter hair nearly white, his face that of misery itself.

I did not—

Go, child, he ordered hoarsely. Ye have said yer piece, no doubt thoughts ye have held within for too long.

Tears streaked her face and blurred her vision. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave or walk toward him, so shocked she was at her own venomous, destructive outburst. He would never love her now. He would never see her as his dearest child, never again call her his ‘reason for life.’ What could she do to restore him, to bring back the life they’d shared?

I said leave!

Shu’Ni stared at him in disbelief, the horror of their encounter eating at her soul. Then she ran. She ran as if the fiery darts of the Demon burst at her feet.

*

Red Falcon swung his sword, slicing through the air with a satisfying hiss. Och, how long it had been since he’d seen battle. How wonderful it felt to practice, feel the burning in his loins as his blood rushed with anticipation. The cool dampness of the cavern cooled his skin as he slashed first left, then right. ‘Twas a long time since he’d felt this sense of purpose, this…feeling of answering to a mighty cause.

He kicked and spun, his sword lashing out at an invisible enemy, then he rolled as if to avoid a warrior’s strike. So intense was his concentration that the beautiful Sea Maiden who enchanted his dreams dashed through the room and was gone before he recognized her brief presence.

Stop, he called, dropping his sword to follow her. He could hear her sobs echoing against the walls. Stop!

When it was clear she was not listening, or could not hear him, he quickened his pace and tackled her to the floor. They both groaned, she in pain and he with frustration. Dropping a beautiful maiden to the floor was no way to make a good first impression.

Sorry, milady, but ye left me no choice, he said by way of apology. He rose and extended a hand to help her up. Oi’d much rather be the reason to stop yer tears, than the reason ye cry.

Her teary lavender gaze met his and Red knew his heart was taken forever. Though it pounded in his chest, he would swear upon his father’s grave that its rhythm had changed, repeating the name Shu’Ni with every thump. She took his hand and he pulled her from the floor, their stares locked on each other.

Oi be Red. Red Falcon. He had no reason to extend his hand to shake hers; he still held hers, afraid that if he released her, she would disappear.

Shu’Ni. Oh, blast the Gods, she muttered, a sob escaping her throat and a fresh stream racing down her face.

Here, here, he consoled, freeing her hands and pulling her into his arms. He offered his shoulder to cry on. By the Saints, love, what be all the fuss for?

You wouldn’t understand. A hiccup. I…I have destroyed my father.

Red’s mind reeled with implications. For blarney’s sake, ye can’t mean….

Nay. Her voice held the whine of a thousand injured souls. He lives, but I have broken his heart.

Yer a fine wench and Oi’m certain you’ve broken more hearts than you can know. Just a look at you causes stress on me own ticker.

My father lies in agony and you jest?

The glare she sent in his direction reminded him that the sea-kitten in his arms had claws that could tear him apart if she wanted. Shu’Ni, whatever harsh words ye and yer father have shared, Oi’m certain will be healed by the new dawn.

Nay, he will never forgive me. I cannot bring myself to ask him. I don’t deserve his forgiveness. She wailed and pounded his chest with her tiny fist.

Beautiful maiden, he said. He lifted her hand and unfolded it, placing a soothing kiss on each of her fingertips. Say the word and Oi’ll speak to the crusty sea laird myself.

She lifted her head, and once again, Red was struck with her beauty. And her pain. Whatever it was she’d done or thought she’d done, he vowed to make right.

You do not hate me?

Vulnerability shone within the lavender depths of her eyes. He had watched her practiced attempts at seduction and had wondered of her experience, but she was little more than a child with the body of a woman. While he wondered why she’d tried such games, he was certain she didna understand the consequences. The Laird of the Seas had obviously sheltered her from the likes of men-all men. Sea Maiden, there is nothing ye could do that would bring hate to my heart.

She gazed at him dubiously and he watched the flicker of emotions play across her face.

Why? she asked.

Why do four moons appear in the evening sky, or why am Oi so certain of yer innocence?

The other…the second.

Oi saw ye with yer father. Ye were arguing that he treated ye as a child. He felt her stiffen beside him and begin to pull away. Ease, my sweet. I understand. He does order ye about as a child, but were Oi in his place, Oi would fear for your safety every second of every minute. She frowned. To lose ye would be to lose a rare jewel. A part of his heart must be missing when ye are out of his sight.

He hates me now.

Nay, Shu’Ni. He doesna hate you. Oi have seen the worry in his eyes. Oi confess that Oi appreciate his concerns. A world without yer presence would be empty.

You jest. ‘Tis the first time we’ve spoken. You spout pretty words, but you have kept your distance.

Would ye have listened to me without this meeting of chance?

He had her there and he saw the truth. His heart fell. She would no more have sought him out as she would any of the others in his adoptive clan. Perchance she would if she knew his true kinsmen were from the northern icy countries surrounding the seas of her birth? He said nothing as she shook her head.

But I would look for you now, she offered hesitantly.

It was a bone for a dog, but he would take it. If this were the only time she spoke with him, he would use the memory to warm the lonely nights ahead. She glanced here and there, and he recognized her loyalty was divided between talking with him and searching for her father.

Go, Sea Maiden. Look for yer father and tell him of yer love. Oi’m certain it will come as no surprise to him and all will be forgiven.

*

You! Xlana glared at the foul smelling and evil-eyed wench who thought too late to back away. They call you Isolde and I’ve heard of your efforts to sway your kinsmen. The boy convulses from a dose of widow’s weed. I left no such instructions for him, nor would I ever. She studied the woman who was puffed up with self-importance. Have you reason to serve poison to a mere boy? Do you wish for his death?

Witch, Isolde spat. Ye need further proof, kinsmen? She lays ‘er hand on the boy and instantly blames me for his sickness. ‘Tis proof she works of the devil!

Xlana watched as the woman’s nostrils flared and the vein in her neck pulsed and swelled dangerously. She was a formidable opponent, but no match for Xlana given the fact she’d seen a vision of Isolde crumbling leaves of widow’s weed into the child’s broth. What other reasons could she have but to discredit Xlana and shift the balance of power? But at the cost of a mere boy? Xlana lost control of her anger and swung, her fist barreling into the woman’s face. The mortal spat again, one of her few remaining teeth flying out with the disgusting mix.

Ye’ll pay dearly for that, witch. She cast a crazed look at Rynak, then at the young man she’d poisoned. He dies before dawn and there be nothin’ ye can do to save him.

With that, she stomped off, swearing at the top of her lungs and yelling for her husband. Xlana lost sight of her within the space of a few stones and crumpled at the foot of her patient’s bed. She wept openly in sorrow. There was no cure for widow’s weed; it was designed for women who wished to dispose of their husbands and ensure their deaths came as excruciatingly painful as possible. Already the young man’s life force dwindled and he vomited the blood of death.

Face it, Xlana, you may not be able to save him, Rynak urged beside her. With both of our powers, we might be able to make a difference, but at what price?

Any price, she said. He is…special. I feel it here, she said with a quick slip of her hand across her heart. The Gods wish him safe and whole. Once more, she laid her hands on his forehead and sent her spirit digging deep within him, seeing in her mind the unspeakable damage to his stomach lining and the poisoned blood pumping through his veins, weakening every vessel. Using her healing powers, she reinforced his precariously limp veins, absorbing part of the poison into herself. Her head throbbed and her stomach heaved, yet she would not give up.

Through a haze of pain, she felt Rynak’s hands atop hers, his light kiss on her forehead, and heard his groan of agony as the poison entered his system as well. Together, they stayed like that, their breath coming in gulps as Lidia laid cool cloths on both their foreheads.

‘Tis not right, Lidia said, desperately trying to pull Xlana and Rynak away from the boy. Ye cannot sacrifice yerself fer the life of one. There are many here who count on ye. Speak to them, Czerick. Please, she begged.

Enough! The Gods do not ordain this boy’s life at the cost of your own! Czerick shot a burst of energy from a point of his sphere. It landed square on Rynak’s head and the great giant fell. Another burst and Xlana’s connection was broken as well and she lay on the floor beside her mate. They have done all that can be done. Lidia, wipe their brows and serve them a broth of yatke juice when they awaken. You, he called to another of his more trusted helpers, help Lidia by watching over the boy and make him as comfortable as possible. He tsked. The evil of some mortals. ‘Tis a wonder the Gods see fit to redeem ye.

*

Isolde watched from afar, ignoring the frowns and open hostility of her kinsmen. She had done what was right and all was going according to plan. The giant was weakened and soon she could seize the witch and present her to the Demon of Fire.

How easily the witch had fallen into her trap, she mused. How easily she’d succumbed to the need to heal, and Isolde would never in all her life understand the immortal’s desire to preserve this boy’s life. What was so special about the holy man’s son, anyway? He was just one of many, not someone of great importance. Och, faith was for fools and the faint-hearted.

Ye fool, her husband said as he worked his way beside her. Ye had to expose yerself and put us all in danger!

Hold yer tongue, ye old oaf. Soon ye will see the right of things. Just ye wait.

Just ye wait, wife, he mocked. If the Demon doesn’t kill ye, the giant will. Remember ye that. He wagged his finger at her as if she was an errant child, then threw up his hands in disgust and walked off.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

>

Beneath Dundreggan the water was bitterly cold; the shock of it struck Wrelan through her dress and cloak, making her gasp. The blue flames gave no heat. They sucked the warmth out of her, and she felt her life force ebbing with them. Indecision sapped more of her strength. What was the use of going on? Niall was surely dead, butchered by Skena’s cruel swordsmen. What did it matter if she died, too? She let the current take her, swirling her round like a leaf. She wouldn’t drown-after all she was a sea-maiden-but soon the flames would overpower her, and her mind would drift into nothingness.

You must brave the dark flame, Wrelan, Daughter of Sea and Fire…. It is your choice… your choice….

I’ve chosen, she told the voice in her head. I’ve had enough. Let me go.

My love goes with you….

Oh Niall, my laddie, she thought, if I fail, you’ve died for nothing.

She began to swim strongly, cleaving through the flames, deeper and deeper. The cold stabbed at her, and she fought it as if it were alive.

I am the Daughter of Sea and Fire. I will find my mother.

>

She paused to shed her clothes then rolled them into a bundle to tie around her waist with the long sleeves of the tunic. With her limbs free, she sped through water. It was like swimming through ice in the endless frigid nights of the Northern winter and she was chilled to the marrow. There was no sign of life, not even a shred of weed or a tiny fish, only the endless pulsing of the fire.

A whisper of sound made the hair rise on her nape-a long, low sigh that ended in a gurgling moan. It grew louder, mingling with human sobs and anguished groans and screams. She clamped her hands over her ears, using her feet to propel herself forward, but the terrible chorus proceeded as loud as ever: men, women, and children in agony.

Something pinched her hip. It felt like hard, bony fingers digging deep, and she flinched in pain. She could see no one, but it was as if she were among a swarm of invisible entities, all seeking to drag her down to the burning lakebed. They turned her first one way, then another, scratching and squeezing, rolling her over and over until she lost all sense of direction. She felt teeth at her throat and she thrashed wildly, lashing out with fists and elbows, but her blows seemed only to roil the luminous water. Grimly, she battled on and at last she broke free. The grasping hands gradually withdrew and the hideous noise stilled.

She blessed the calm and silence, but the ordeal had left her shaking. She was bruised and battered, mentally and physically. The loss of Niall filled her with grief, and she was so very tired of being alone. No! She’d come too far to stop now. She gritted her teeth. I won’t give up, she thought, but I wish I had just a wee sip of Niall’s whiskey.

The memory of his laughter cheered her a little, and the water seemed warmer, the flames less bright. Stronger now, she paused to commune with the deep, inner feeling that told her which way to go, and she went on slowly, conserving her strength. Would she never reach the shore of this accursed lake?

In a little while she would have to surface. She needed food, and it would be impossible to obtain if the lake continued underground. Cautiously, she let herself drift upwards, afraid of ramming into a rocky ceiling. The lake was very deep, and seemed as fire-filled above as it was below.

At last, her head broke water and she drew sweet cool air into her lungs. She turned around slowly, scanning for the shore. It was dusk, but there was a glow in the west where the sun was setting. She saw curved cliffs behind her and to her right and left. It was as if the lake was in a giant bowl, like the craters at the tops of the Fire Mountains of the North. This must be the center of Dundreggan, hollow and filled with liquid fire. She continued to turn. Ahead of her, a ghostly shape came and went. It was wreathed in mist, and it seemed to hover over the water. Wrelan swam toward it slowly, her eyes straining to make out what it was.

The moon rose and countless stars brightened the night sky, but the shape was no easier to see. The surface of the lake shone dimly blue and the mist blended with it, so she hardly knew where one ended and the other began. Her arms and legs were numb with fatigue. She turned on her back and floated, drifting with the current until she heard the lap of waves and realized she was approaching a shore. She rolled over and moments later washed up on a beach of pale sand-an island in the lake, she surmised. Once out of the water, she untied the bundle of clothes from about her waist and spread them to dry. Then she made a little hollow in the sand, lay down, and slept.

When she awoke it was daylight. The curtain of mist had thinned somewhat and she could see a little way inland. She caught a glimpse of shimmering black walls and a thin, pointed tower with a banner of dark flame flying at its peak. This must be the place she’d struggled through water, earth, and the cold fire to reach, the place that had cost Niall his life, and which may yet cost her own. The Demon’s Palace.

Wrelan scrambled to her feet, wincing at the stiffness of her limbs. She dusted dried sand from her skin, and was surprised when she found no bruises from her struggle with the fire-phantoms in the lake. Her tunic and cloak had dried soft and clean and she put them on, grateful for the warmth of the creamy wool in the cool morning air. Stretching and rubbing her muscles briskly, she set off in a steady walk toward the palace. There was a dull pain in her stomach from lack of food, but she ignored it. She would eat her fill soon enough, when she found her mother. The beach was narrow and beyond it was scrubby vegetation covered in tiny purple flowers. A faint path led toward the Demon’s home. She trod warily, her gaze darting this way and that, wondering what she might encounter.

Above her, the sky was one high-curving light cloud, as if the island and the lake that surrounded it were shielded from inquisitive eyes. Mist still swirled about the palace, making it difficult to discern. The silence unnerved her. Nothing stirred. No sound broke the heavy silence, not even the call of a bird or the rustle of small creatures in the scrub. When she was close enough to the towering black walls to touch them, she stopped and peered up at the battlements. Only the banner moved, blazing from the pointed tower like wind-blown flame. Her skin prickled with fear. She crept along, seeking an entrance and at last came to an ironbound door. A stone statue-half bird, half human-stood to one side of it, its beaklike mouth open to show rows of cruel teeth. Black stone eyes watched her impassively. She shuddered and turned away from the ugly thing, raising her fist to beat on the door. Before she could touch it, it swung inwards, causing her heart to pound in her chest. Gingerly, she set her foot on the threshold.

Mother, are you here? she called. It’s me, your daughter Wrelan.

There was a light pattering sound, and seconds later a small figure appeared. It was a manikin, fierce and ugly, and covered with shaggy brown fur.

Why you comes here? It snarled, its small, red eyes glaring.

Wrelan glared back. Take me to Shu’Lan, she ordered.

Oh, ho, ho, the creature rasped, doubling up with laughter. Takes me to Shu’Lan you says. It seized her arm in a bruising grip. I takes you to dungeon, where the questioners will gets the truth.

That sounded ominous and she struggled to keep her fears to herself. She glared harder and shook him off. Take me to Shu’Lan, you wretched creature, or I shall make you suffer.

The thing laughed again and there was malice in its eyes. Perhaps I not takes you to dungeon. Perhaps I kills you here.

Wrelan stretched her hands toward him and concentrated. To her relief, her fingertips tingled strongly-her gift was working. She would send this malevolent little pest to sleep and find Shu’Lan for herself. But something had gone wrong; the smoke that emerged from her hands was pink. Would pink smoke stun the manikin, or only add to its wicked amusement? She held her breath as long rosy ribbons twined around the bristling creature, scattering it with tiny red hearts. Suddenly, it floated several feet into the air, and the malevolent smirk on its face gave way to a besotted smile. In a cracked, squeaky voice, it began to sing:

Mistress, my heart is at your feet. I strews your path with flowers sweet. Oh, leaves me not; with love I groan. I prays thee mistress, be my own.

He looked ridiculous and he was obviously tone deaf. She couldn’t help but giggle. His skinny feet with their long, pointed claws dangled helplessly down, and his small hairy hands were clasped to his breast. A tear formed in his eye.

Don’t laughs at me, mistress. I takes you to Shu’Lan. He gathered a handful of the hearts and held them out to her. Oh, I loves you, mistress.

She took the hearts and put them into her pocket, surprised to feel Morag’s necklace there. So the gift from Niall’s mother to her own wasn’t lost; Niall must have slipped it out of the pack and into her pocket sometime during their time together. She fingered the stones lovingly and sighed. At least it was some small remembrance of her lost love.

Come down then and take me to Shu’Lan, she said to the manikin.

He came to earth with a thud and grasped the hem of her cloak, pulling her along a hallway. This way, pretty mistress.

She paused and ignored his tug. Nobody had ever called her pretty before. What are you? she asked softly. And what is your name?

I thinks I’m an elf. The creature shook his head sadly. But I gots no name. I gots nothing at all.

He sounded so forlorn. Wrelan’s heart went out to him. She knew well what loneliness was. You will have me as a friend, she said, and I’ll call you Elfin. She hoped the smoke spell wouldn’t wear off, but if it did, perhaps she could renew it.

She followed Elfin, allowing him to guide her by pulling on her cloak. The passage was dim with only a few dark-flamed torches set in brackets at intervals along the walls. Close to each torch was a door, every one with a face carved in the wood. The eye sockets were set with gems that glittered lifelike in the gloom, as if they were watching her furtively. Now and then one seemed to leer in the flickering light, and once she thought she saw a mouth twist as if in speech.

She moved her shoulders uneasily, waves of apprehension twitching her spine. Is it much farther, Elfin? she whispered.

No, mistress. Few more steps, then Lady Shu’Lan.

He halted in front of a door bound with gold. The face carved in it was that of a girl, but it made Wrelan shudder. It had clear crystal eyes with a flare of blue in their depths, and its features were those of her sister Shu’Ni, warped almost beyond recognition. As she watched, the carved lips moved, and the door swung open. Elfin nipped behind her, ducking under her cloak to cling to the back of her tunic. She stepped inside the room with the elf treading on her heels and gazed around in astonished delight.

There were no visible walls. Filmy veils fell from on high to form the room’s boundaries in shades that ranged from deepest aqua to silver with the palest hint of green. Random spangles of gold glimmered softly as a perfumed breeze stirred the gossamer silk. On a lush carpet of deep emerald, plump aqua and gold cushions lay in heaps, and a woman reclined at her ease among them. She smiled lazily and stretched out her hand.

So, Wrelan, you have escaped at last from the clutches of Faustio the Oaf. Come here my child, and kiss your mother.

Wrelan stepped forward with the elf hanging onto her skirt, hidden by the long cloak. She kissed the outstretched hand and stared. This was Shu’Lan, her mother, so small and delicate and soft she looked like an exquisite doll. Her eyes were deep turquoise and slanted, rimmed with long, dark lashes. Her lips formed a curving pink bow and her hair was a lustrous aqua that made the hanging silks look dull by comparison. Her body was swathed in a drift of silver-green that hardly concealed the slender form beneath. She was more beautiful than anything Wrelan could have imagined. Her heart sank. Niall had been right. This was a fool’s errand. She would never be able to persuade this lovely creature to leave such luxury and go with her-especially not to some obscure village to live in the dirt and danger of battle. Not to the great, rough Sea Dragon who had once been her mate. Not to the little cave that was Wrelan’s own sanctuary.

Even if she could manage to get her mother away, Rynak would probably kill them on sight. The sensible thing would be to stay here and forget the past. Surely she would be happy in such wondrous surroundings as these, safe in the love of her mother. She knelt by Shu’Lan’s cushions and laid her head on the silk-covered lap. Mama, may I stay with you?

Of course, my sweet. We have been expecting you. My Lord predicted you would come. But tell me, how did you evade the unspeakable Faustio?

I…I ran away. For some reason, she didn’t want to speak of Rynak’s coming, the sealing of the Sanctuary, and the war.

Hmm, Shu’Lan mused. I suppose the fool was drunk, as usual, and didn’t miss you until it was too late. Never mind, child, you are with me now. We have wonderful things in store for you. But you must be tired and hungry. Your room is through there, and all has been prepared for you.

She pointed toward the filmy draperies and Wrelan rose and went in that direction. Elfin clung to her leg, not making a sound, and she thought she felt him tremble. The silks parted at her touch and after she stepped through, they closed again behind her. Her room was as lovely as Shu’Lan’s. It was hung with all the colors of the North Seas, shades of gray and white and silver. Sparkling crystals were sprinkled among the folds. A faint scent of salt and seaweed and clean, fresh gales teased her nostrils. In a little bower along one side, water trickled into a pool just big enough for her to bathe in.

Elfin came out from beneath her cloak and gazed around. You stays here, mistress?

Oh yes, Wrelan breathed. It’s lovely.

Elfin doesn’t likes it.

Why not? Look, here’s food. Come and share it with me. Wrelan sat on a pile of silvery cushions and picked up a piece of fruit from a luscious looking array heaped on a silver platter. There was clear water in a silver cup, and she drank gratefully. Elfin slunk over to the cushions and sat beside her, his tiny legs folded in front of him. He nibbled on a piece of fruit, all the while shaking his head.

Elfin doesn’t likes it, he repeated stubbornly. Mistress comes to harm.

No, I won’t, she said. My mother will protect me. She ignored Elfin’s arched brow and her own niggling doubts. Anyway, I can leave whenever I want to.

She stood and crossed to the nearest drapery. See. She tried to push it aside, but it was immovable as granite. It was the same with the other seemingly filmy hangings. They rippled as if in a breeze, but they held fast whenever she attempted to part them. Whether she wanted to stay or not, she had no choice. She was caught in a luxurious trap.

*

It seemed to Wrelan that she’d been shut into the gray-draped room for days. No one had come near, not even her mother, but she never lost the feeling of being watched. Food and water materialized whenever she slept, and the first time she awoke, she found clothing similar to that Shu’Lan wore set out for her on the cushions. She bathed in the pool then put the filmy garments on in place of her tunic. But the silk felt cloying and she didn’t like the way it clung to her body. She took them off and put her tunic on and was instantly comfortable. She clasped Morag’s necklace about her throat. The muted tones of brown and green and purple looked well against the creamy wool, but she felt sure her mother would never wear the rough-polished stones around her own graceful neck.

Time passed slowly. She paced the room endlessly and talked to Elfin, telling him about her life and repeating the tales Faustio had told her and Shu’Ni as they were growing up. She bathed the little creature and groomed him with a silver-backed brush she found by the pool. His fur grew soft and shone with auburn lights as Niall’s hair had. Niall. Her heart ached at the very thought of him. She missed him as if he were part of her; there was an empty place in her soul that only he could fill. Many times, everyday, she and Elfin tested the boundaries of their prison looking for a way out, but they found none. Perhaps they would never escape and would end their days here with only each other for company. Wrelan thought she’d go mad unless she could break free and walk and swim as she used to.

One day, she awoke to find her mother standing over her, smiling. Come Wrelan. My lord has decreed that you take your rightful place among us.

She rubbed her eyes sleepily. Mother, am I really the seed of the Demon?

Don’t call him that, Shu’Lan snapped. His name is…. Her voice became an unintelligible garble, before she went on clearly. And he is the…

Again the garble. Wrelan wanted to ask her mother to repeat the words, but Shu’Lan still spoke, her face a mask of rage.

My lord is of the pure blood, one of the most high, brought down by the spite and jealousy of his kin. But his time comes. Ah, yes…it comes. He will be restored to his heritage. And you shall do your part.

Fear trickled down her spine. Wrelan wasn’t sure she wanted to. But is he my father? she persisted.

Should he summon you to his presence, you will address him as my lord, Shu’Lan said coldly. And then only if he permits you to speak. Do you understand?

Yes, Mama.

Elfin, who lay hidden in the cushions, stirred, and Shu’Lan caught sight of him. What is that odious creature doing here? she shrieked. He shall go to the lake at once and feed the dark flames with his paltry carcass.

Elfin whimpered. Wrelan ducked between him and her mother’s outstretched finger. He is mine. I have commanded him to serve me.

Shu’Lan’s lip curled. So. Then keep it if you must. But you will take more fitting servants if you are to be one of us.

Wrelan felt a surge of rebellion, but she knew better than to let Shu’Lan see it. Yes, Mama, she said meekly.

Under her mother’s eye, Wrelan bathed and dressed in the filmy robes that clung and itched against her skin. She brushed her hair with the silver brush and at Shu’Lan’s orders, seated herself on the cushions.

Yes child, you look very well. Now you will remain still until your bridegroom comes to claim you.

My bridegroom? Wrelan gasped. She would have jumped up, but Shu’Lan pushed her down as forcefully as Faustio could have done, despite her small size.

You will do as you are bid, Wrelan. I leave you now. Move and I will strike you down. And you will deserve no less.

She whisked through the draperies and Wrelan looked after her in horror. Her own mother would kill her. She couldn’t believe it. Elfin stirred restlessly.

She will sends us to the flames that guards the lake, mistress, he whispered. Do not makes her angry.

Her temper flared. Send us to the flames? By the Gods, she shall not.

She was about to test her belief that she could leave the cushions without being instantly blasted, when the draperies parted and a young man entered. He was almost pretty, slightly built, far shorter than Niall and not half as broad. His long curling hair was molten gold, and his eyes were blue violet. Cloth of red gold covered his body like a second skin. Around his waist hung a belt holding a bejeweled knife. He looked at her appraisingly. She lowered her gaze, her mind working furiously, as he sat down on the cushions at her side. He put a finger beneath her chin, and tilted her face this way and that.

Not as pretty as I’d like, but you will have to suffice, since my lord decrees it, he said.

His arrogant tone was maddening, but she lowered her lashes as if she were shy and waited to see what he would do next. He placed a hand over her breast and a flare of rage made her yearn to strike him. How dare this simpering puppy lay hands on her? She forced herself to smile suggestively.

My lord, I know of a way to bring great pleasure, she crooned. Will you permit me to show you?

A greedy look crossed his face. You are in truth the Lady Shu’Lan’s daughter. Very well. You may you do as you wish.

She stretched her hands. Immediately, lavender smoke curled from her fingertips. Please breathe the smoke, my lord. It will lead to untold delight.

She watched as the violet-laced ribbon encircled him. If this worked as she planned, it would indeed bring great pleasure and delight-to her. He inhaled deeply and the next instant, he sprawled back on the cushions. She pushed herself harder, and the smoke deepened in color until it was almost black, coiling around him. His breathing slowed, then ceased. His head lolled and she knew he would never look upon the light of day again. Elfin was watching, wide-eyed, from the far side of the room.

What haves you done, mistress? he whimpered. Now they throws us into the lake for sure and the flames feeds on us forever.

We must get out, Wrelan said.

She ripped the clinging silk from her body, slipped into her tunic, and put on Morag’s necklace. She removed the dead man’s belt and pulled the knife partway out of its sheath. It was wickedly sharp, a handy weapon, and she wouldn’t hesitate to use it. She had already killed a man-or was he a demon?-and she felt no shred of regret. She stowed both knife and belt in her pocket and crossed to the draperies. She pointed at them, her gaze unwavering. A flash of silver shot from her hand and the cloth split, curling and shriveled about the edges. She caught up her cloak and carried it over her arm.

Come, Elfin. Her tone was crisp, and he followed her without protest, grabbing the hem of her skirt as she went.

Now there was only one task to accomplish before they left. She would find her mother and remove her from this accursed place. If Shu’Lan went to the Old One, there was a small chance she could be restored to the right path. But if she stayed here she was lost. Wrelan took the belt from her pocket and handed it to Elfin.

Be ready with this when I ask for it.

Elfin wrapped the soft leather around his middle, encircling it around himself several times. I does as you says, mistress. He heaved a great sigh and shook his head. But I doesn’t wants to know what you does next.

Wrelan entered her mother’s room to find Shu’Lan reclining on her cushions.

Child, she said, did your bridegroom please you?

More than I can say, Wrelan replied. It is our wish that you join us in my chamber to celebrate the happy event.

Shu’Lan rose gracefully to her feet and Wrelan stood aside deferentially to let her pass through the hangings.

My lord sleeps, Wrelan said. Will you see if you can wake him?

Shu’Lan bent over the sprawled body of the man. He’s dead, she hissed, but before she could turn, Wrelan threw her cloak over her mother’s head.

Quick, Elfin. The belt, she cried.

The manikin unwrapped the leather from his waist. Between the two of them, they pulled the belt tight around Shu’Lan, pinning her arms closely to her sides within the cloak. She rolled wildly across the floor, her angry shrieks muffled by the thick wool, as she struggled like a devilfish caught in a net. Elfin dithered in fright, then he suddenly caught up the silver dish, scattering fruit in all directions, and brought it down on Shu’Lan’s head with a peal like a gong. Her struggles ceased and she lay still.

Hurrys, mistress, hurrys quick, Elfin panted.

Wrelan tossed the cloak-shrouded form over her shoulder, thankful that her mother weighed little more than a child. Lead us out of here, Elfin, she commanded.

They ran back along the dimly lit passage with the leering faces of the doors watching their every step. Any minute, Wrelan expected to hear a booming voice commanding them to stop, or to run into some supernatural barrier-clutching entities or hideous beasts that would rend them with claw and fang. Elfin’s legs moved so fast they were a blur, and she was hard-pressed to keep up, small as he was. At the palace door, the stone man-bird glared at them, but that only spurred them to a faster pace.

They ran down the scrubby path and over the beach and paused at the edge of the lake.

Can you swim? Wrelan asked.

Elfin shook like a leaf in the wind. I can swims, but not goes there, mistress. The flames….

Is there another way out?

The elf shook his head, his misery obvious as his shoulders slumped nearly to his knees.

Then we have no choice.

They plunged into the water, towing Shu’Lan in the cloak behind them. The current was against them and Elfin soon tired. He swam doggedly, but Wrelan wondered how long he’d able to go on. And she worried about how he would breathe when they dived down for the journey through the underground part of the lake. The blue fire writhed below them. It seemed hungry and ready to swallow them up. Wrelan realized it would take a miracle to get them home safely.

There was a loud crack behind them, and she spun around as Elfin let out a piteous wail that turned to a gurgle when water poured into his mouth. Shu’Lan had broken free! She cast off the cloak and threw it at Wrelan, who caught at it instinctively. In the next instant, she was stunned by a bolt from her mother’s finger. She wallowed helplessly as Shu’Lan turned her wrath on the manikin.

To the flames you go, to feed them through all eternity. So shall it be with all my lord’s enemies. She threw back her head and howled with laughter.

Wrelan watched in horror as Elfin’s small body stiffened, then went limp and began to spiral down. No! She made one despairing effort and managed to catch him, using the billowing cloak as a net while Shu’Lan’s eyes were closed in laughter. She hugged him to her and made a silent promise: the flames would not have him while she lived.

Shu’Lan turned back to her daughter. You, I have use for. You wished to take me to Faustio, did you not? Well then, you shall have your wish. And you shall help me destroy him. After that

She shrugged. Perhaps I shall let you live as a slave to my lord, or perhaps you shall join your servant down below.

She pointed her finger a second time, and then swam away. Come with me, my daughter, she said.

Wrelan felt her limbs jerk out of control. She was swimming, following her mother, and she couldn’t turn aside. Wherever Shu’Lan went, she was bound to follow.

The journey back through the lake was a nightmare. No matter how hard she fought, Wrelan couldn’t break the hold her mother had put on her. It was as if she swam through a tunnel with walls that cut her off from all avenues of escape. She carried Elfin on her back in a pouch formed from the cloak, checking often to make sure she hadn’t dropped his little body. The groans and howls of the poor souls doomed to feed the flames battered her senses, and she was determined the elf wouldn’t meet that fate. At least this time there were no clutching hands or biting teeth. The force that kept her on a course apparently kept those at bay, too. Shu’Lan cut through the water swiftly, without even a backward glance, seeming supremely confident in her power over her daughter. Wrelan clenched her teeth and endured.

They passed through the cavern where she had last seen Niall, empty now and silent. Tears burned her throat as she remembered their parting. Shu’Lan didn’t leave the lake, but plunged into another dark, water-filled passageway. Soon they had left all traces of the blue fire behind, and Wrelan surmised they were leaving Dundreggan. Weeds swayed gracefully in the currents and schools of small fish darted here and there. Once, she saw a great pike that turned its cold eyes and spiked teeth toward them, and then, with a flick of its tail, vanished into the gloom. She was so tired, she wondered if even her mother’s spell would be strong enough to draw her forward. But she supposed that even if she died of fatigue, she would still be dragged along, trailing in her mother’s wake. With that thought, she let herself drift into sleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

>

At the caves in the loch, Rynak awoke, his head throbbing as if he’d been sailing against the currents and had smashed into a rock wall. He hadn’t hurt this bad since he’d done just that during one of his first flights with his mother. Ah, he could feel her presence beside him, her gentle touch as she soothed his brow and whispered sweet stories in his ears. The cool damp cloth felt wonderful and he worked hard to get the words past his throat to tell her so.

He speaks, Lidia said, her relief evident in her voice. Praise the Gods, he comes back to us. She paused. But what is he saying? I don’t understand the language.

It’s Talgarian, the language of the dragons, Czerick answered. ‘Twould take another dragon to understand.

What were they talking about? Rynak’s thoughts scattered like clouds in the sky. Why was he here on the floor when he should be…he should be…beside Xlana tending to the boy, the boy who appeared destined for death. Yet Rynak had felt the watchful eyes of the Gods. He felt the pain of a lost soul through the bewildered fog of his mind. But if he was here, then where was Xlana? Panic shot through him with the speed of a spear in flight. Xlana, he murmured.

He calls for her. How shall I answer, Czerick?

Tell him she rests, just as he should, the sorcerer answered. And feed him the broth.

Rynak listened as Czerick went back to issuing orders: pour the potion down the boy’s throat, wipe her brow, change the bandage on this one and clean up that one. He wondered how Xlana had endured the old sorcerer. He gagged as a pint of broth was poured down his throat, swallowing most and wearing the rest. Thankfully, it eased his head, which felt three sizes too big, and soothed his aching bones. Then he slept.

When next he awoke, it was to chaos. Again, he replayed the scenes that led to his lying prone on the cave floor, but he was certain that this time…this time, there was urgency in the air. It didn’t take long for him to learn what was going on. Through blurry vision, he saw villagers scatter as Dykstra raced to his side and nearly collided with the wooden barricades erected for the privacy of the patients.

Rynak, you must come. Faustio is in danger!

He rose to stare at the two-headed furry dragon. Since when did Dykstra have two heads? Impatiently, he dismissed the thought as he heard Faustio’s name again. His brother…he must go. But Xlana….

Faustio needs you, Dykstra pleaded. He goes to the loch, but there is danger. His mate returns to see him dead. You are the only one of us who can swim. Only the power of The Almighty can make things right.

I hear you, Rynak answered. Help me up and I will come. Immediately, four sets of hands were at work to set him aright. He swayed dizzily. That was quick. He could feel the twist of his lips, a distinct contrast to the lumbering weight of his bones as he struggled to follow Dykstra.

Hurry, Rynak, Dykstra urged. There is little time.

How he made it to the shore, he might never know. By the time they reached the water, he had at least stopped seeing double. Pretog had caught up with them…or had he been there the whole time? Rynak hated the way his thoughts were clouded-not to mention the lethargic ache of his bones.

As Dykstra had said, Faustio was in the water, but the stillness of the dragon’s form unnerved Rynak. His gaze was fixed on something in the distance and Rynak couldn’t see what it was. He quickly transformed to his dragon shape and dove, swimming to Faustio’s side, but safely hidden from whatever came toward them. He was relying on the element of surprise, but he was the one surprised at what he saw.

*

When Wrelan woke up, she and her mother were swimming in open water. She checked that Elfin was still secure in the cloak then she looked around. It was broad daylight, and they were in a loch, swimming slowly toward the far shore. There were people on the shore and creatures in the murky water. With a shock, she recognized the closest one as Faustio.

Papa, she cried, but no sound came.

Shu’Lan paused and Faustio’s voice roared out. So, Demon’s whore, ye have returned, led by his accursed seed I don’t doubt. Now, by great Neptune’s beard, I’ll kill yer both.

He swooped through the water toward them, assuming dragon’s form and poised to kill.

Shu’Lan laughed and pulled Wrelan in front of her. Kill her if you will, husband. She is of your body, but it will be my pleasure to see her die in my lover’s cause.

Ye’d sacrifice yer child? Faustio sounded horror-struck. Ye’d add the burden of Wrelan’s death to the guilt I’ve carried all this time? Ye are surely damned beyond redemption.

The pain in his voice cut Wrelan to the heart. Faustio hesitated and she felt her mother gathering herself to strike. Again, she strove to warn her father, but she was mute, even her voice was trapped by Shu’Lan’s evil. She looked about, vainly seeking help. To her relief she saw another dragon approaching fast. Rynak. Gods be thanked. He would surely kill both her and her mother, and Papa would be safe. But Rynak had come too late. Shu’Lan stretched her hands and streams of blue fire shot through the water. They hit Faustio just as Rynak began to pull him aside. The Sea Dragon wavered. His shape fluctuated, became indistinct, then he collapsed. His body transformed into immortal shape and he hung limp in the water, his pewter hair rising and falling on the waves.

The Sky Dragon turned his pale gray eyes toward Shu’Lan, unblinking. He opened his mouth and a dazzling, golden bolt shot forth to skim the water like lightening. At the last possible moment, Wrelan heard Shu’Lan’s cry of protest. Her mother seized her and thrust her away from the bolt, sheltering her with her own small form. The bolt hit with a sound like the long clear note of a horn and golden light enveloped them. Wrelan felt herself floating, and then she was looking down at the loch. Her body and that of Shu’Lan drifted, with little Elfin between them, as the implacable Sky Dragon looked on. He supported Faustio with one wing, and she saw her father move feebly. Praise the Gods! He still lived!

She became conscious of a globe of light hovering near her, and she heard her mother’s voice, no longer sweetly evil, but clear and calm.

I am in your debt, Heaven’s Dragon. You have freed me from a greater evil than you know.

There is no debt to me, Shu’Lan. The spark of good in you that saved your daughter has spared you. But you must yet answer to a higher power.

I shall do so. The Old One will say what penance I must bear. I go to her now, and my daughter with me, to be healed from all she has suffered at my hands.

The great Dragon bowed his head. Then go in peace and return to us restored to holiness.

Wrelan’s vision was dimming. She thought she saw Shu’Ni, hiding in the waves behind Rynak, but she couldn’t be sure. She drifted down toward her body and the voices came as if from far off.

My husband lives? Shu’Lan asked.

He lives. We will care for him. He is our brother.

There was a break in Shu’Lan’s voice when she next spoke. One more thing I would ask of you, Heaven’s Dragon. There is a small one here who has served your cause at the cost of his life. I would have you deliver him to his own kind to be given all the rites that are due him. His name is Elfin. Let it be remembered.

Rynak bowed again. So be it. Farewell…my sister.

A roaring filled Wrelan’s mind and her vision blurred. Then she was back in the water, pain in every part of her body. Vaguely, she was conscious of her mother swimming beside her, going back across the loch and supporting her tenderly as they went. It seemed to her that Shu’Ni was at her other side, holding her with loving hands. She smiled at her sister, and Shu’Ni’s lovely eyes smiled back. Then a blessed peace stole over her and she knew no more.

*

Faustio wakes, Dykstra cried.

Rynak, returned to his immortal form, rejoiced at the news. Between four of them, they had managed to carry Faustio inside the caves with the least amount of injury. Rynak still didn’t know how or why Red Falcon had appeared to help. It was a question he meant to ask later-that and the fact the blacksmith-turned-warrior was repeating the same words constantly. She’s gone, he kept saying in a voice full of sadness. Who the clouds was the man talking about?

Rynak decided that he had more important things over which to worry. The burns on Faustio’s body smoldered, the stench worse than anything he’d encountered before. Cautiously, he laid his hands near enough to the wounds, but far enough away so as not to cause more pain to his brother dragon. He wished Xlana was with him, but Dykstra was insistent that his mate was occupied elsewhere and could not be drawn from her work. What the clouds was that supposed to mean?

Rynak opened his mind, searching within his brother’s body to discern the extent of his injuries. Shu’Lan’s strike had hit major organs; they must be the first to be healed. In his own weakened state, Rynak found the repairs difficult, his mind as strong as a bowl of the villager’s jelly. In desperation, he called out, Almighty, I beg you for renewed strength. Please give me the ability to heal my brother’s wounds and restore him to your service.

Instantly, his body ceased trembling and his mind grew stronger. Once again, he turned to the healing needed, mentally sealing and cauterizing the tear in Faustio’s liver and spleen. His own organs hurt as he accepted Faustio’s pain as his own. Rynak then focused on cleansing the seepage within Faustio’s insides and restoring his brother’s dark, smoldering flesh to its natural silver shade. Once done, he looked on with approval. Weariness set in at once. Dizzily, Rynak tried to stand up as he muttered, Take him to a bed for the injured. He needs sleep.

Rynak barely heard Dykstra’s cry as his face hit the sand and he passed out.

*

The Old One’s hut was warm and quiet. The whisper of the fire and the gentle breath of the sleeping girls only deepened the stillness of the little room as Shu’Lan sat gazing at her daughters. Shu’Ni slumped on a stool beside Wrelan’s pallet. Her delicate wings drooped around her shoulders like a cloak, and her hair gleamed the color of budding leaves in sunlight. Shu’Lan shook her head sadly. Her lovely daughter should have had a childhood as lighthearted and carefree as a butterfly’s, but instead she had been burdened with the running of their home. She’d cared for Faustio, tended him through his drunken nights and grief-stricken days, and eased his pain as best she could. And she’d taken on the duties of mother to a sullen and angry child little younger than herself. Even now, Shu’Ni would be watching over her sister had not exhaustion lulled her into sleep.

And Wrelan, whose strong sculpted face went beyond beauty, her silvery hair giving her the regal look of a chieftain or a queen…. What a wretched childhood she’d had, tormented by a mother in thrall to a demon, set at odds with the father for whom she felt such a deep, hidden love. Shu’Lan had seen through Wrelan’s eyes for almost fifteen seasons; she’d witnessed the scoldings and slaps the little girl received from her sister, and the punishing distrust of her father. Her hand went to her throat and she fingered the necklace of polished agates Wrelan had given her. A gift from Morag, she’d said. Who was this Morag to send stones that held earth magic, the gift of one mother to another? And who was Niall, whose name the child had whispered with such sorrowful tenderness? Yet another of Wrelan’s loves, lost or dead like Elfin, because of her mother’s faithlessness?

I should have stayed with my children, she muttered brokenly. I deserve to die for my sins.

The voice of the Old One cut sharply through her misery. Take no more upon yourself than is your due, Shu’Lan. This wallowing in your own abasement is in itself a form of pride, and an affront to The Supreme One.

I’m sorry, Shu’Lan said. But I cannot rest until I’ve done penance for my crimes. Can you not tell me now what I must do?

Penance, daughter? What use is that? Rather, you must right the wrongs you have done, and no telling of mine will say how to achieve it. It is for you to decide.

The old woman dropped a handful of herbs into a pot of water that simmered over the fire. Fragrant steam arose, scented with geranium and lavender and rosemary and others Shu’Lan could not name.

I will leave you alone for a while, the Old One said. Open your mind, child, and you will know what you must do. Your girls will sleep until the time appointed for your going, and I will be here to see you on your way.

She stooped beside Shu’Ni and eased her from the stool and onto the pallet beside her sister, spreading part of the coverlet over her. Then she slipped out through the door of the hut and closed it behind her. Shu’Lan stared after her for many long minutes. The perfume of the herbs was stronger and her mind grew sharp and clear. The room was dim, except for the curling steam. It formed a cloud, bright with the flickering firelight behind it, and she saw pictures, small and perfect, within. There was Faustio as she had seen him last, clutching feebly at the Sky Dragon’s wing and then lying in a cave, far from his beloved sea. She saw him as he had been when they first met, strong and handsome and dashing. She saw their first lovemaking, and the cherished babe that had come of it.

The pictures broke and reformed. The Demon of Fire, seductive, disguised as her husband, when he came to her bed. She saw herself betraying Faustio as she delivered his pride and honor and manhood into the Demon’s hands. She watched her husband dwindle into a creature empty of spirit, aimlessly grazing the weed fields of the ocean’s bed by night and wallowing in drunken stupor by day. It was her fault he’d been unable to assume his true dragon shape and had become a blundering, ungainly thing like a witchwhale instead. He wouldn’t have been able to achieve even that, but for the new budding on his forehead with the coming of the babe. He would have been doomed to remain in human form, ever vulnerable to the Demon’s malice.

The pictures faded and the mist thinned, but in the heart of it remained a shining spiral, shimmering pearly gold. The priceless thing she’d handed over to the Demon-Faustio’s horn.

Shu’Lan drew a sharp breath. No! She couldn’t go back to the Demon’s palace, even for that. Beneath all else, she could still feel the pull of his will on hers. She had to fight every moment not to give in and fly back to him, to lose herself in the depraved luxury that she’d enjoyed as his…. His what? She faced the truth, cringing and praying to be spared from it. His whore, just as Faustio had said. She’d given her soul for the power to have whatever she wished, regardless of the cost to her family. Ah, a small voice whispered, but think of the pleasures of my lord’s bed. Her body tingled, even now betraying her in its desire. She clutched the stones about her neck, squeezing until her hands felt bruised, letting the strong earth magic help her over the worst. The urge quieted, muted until it felt like the soft lapping of small waves on a beach. And she began to make her plans.

When the Old One returned, Shu’Lan was ready. She kissed her children, but they hardly stirred, so deep were they in sleep. A smile crossed Shu’Ni’s face as her mother’s lips brushed her forehead, but Wrelan turned away, a small, hurtful movement that pierced Shu’Lan’s heart.

She turned to the old woman. Mother, you know my quest?

The Old One nodded. You have chosen well, but the doing will be hard.

Shall I succeed?

I know not, child. Though I see all paths from their beginning to their end, it is not given to me to know which you will choose or how you will tread them. The Supreme One has laid it upon me to record all when it is done and not before.

Shu’Lan’s lips trembled and she felt a deep-rooted fear. Can you offer me no word of help?

Ah…as to that. The Old One smiled. This I may tell you. The appearance of what you would seem is insufficient. You must take to yourself the reality, even though you risk becoming forever what you abhor. You must be strong enough to triumph over it in the end and return with your prize.

Shu’Lan bit her lip. Small comfort, Mother, but I thank you.

One thing more. Sometimes the future turns to lie beside the past, and the present between them, reaching out to each. Remember this when you lose what you most value. She crossed to the door and held it wide.

Shu’Lan did not understand, but she trusted in the Old One’s wisdom. She cast one last longing look at her daughters before she stepped out into the woods. It was time to put things to right.

*

Shu’Lan lay in the waters of the loch, looking toward the Demon’s palace. She was once again his whore and yet she was not. It was as if she were two Shu’Lans: one evil and treacherous, returning to her lord after grievously wounding her husband, the other a strong, resolute force hidden deep within the first, biding her time until her purpose was accomplished. Now she must totally submerge the good under the ill, and trust the Gods to help when the time came.

She swam the last few strokes to the beach and crossed quickly to the palace. There was the stone guard at the door and her heart almost stopped at the sight of it. The long narrow head turned toward her, its beak-mouth open to reveal rows of cruel teeth, glistening with freshly spilt blood. It fixed her with its cold black eyes, and she wanted to plunge into the lake and swim without ceasing until she’d left Dundreggan far behind. The image wavered and the handsome form of the man-bird emerged. Shu’Lan smiled. What had she been thinking, to be afraid of her lord’s servant? The great, ironbound door swung open and she went in.

The hallway to her room sparkled in the light of torches set in golden brackets on the walls, and the faces carved on the doors smiled at her ingratiatingly. Servants in aqua and gold livery appeared as if by magic, bowing until their noses touched the floor, with a chorus of, Greetings, my lady. How may we serve you?

You may bring food and fresh clothing to my chamber. She stared imperiously at the tops of their heads. Because she was small, she had decreed that no servant of hers should ever look down on her. For an instant, they appeared as stunted dwarfs clad in filthy rags, their skins disfigured by open sores that oozed corruption. Then, in the blink of an eye, they were her own tiny slaves again, dressed in their usual bright costumes.

She entered her room and threw herself down on the cushions, waiting for them to serve her. They brought water and bathed her. They helped her into a filmy robe of gold sprinkled with aquamarines and fed her dainty morsels of food from a golden plate. A crystal cup, full of the finest wine, was held to her lips so that she might drink without exerting herself. When she was satisfied, she reclined on her cushions.

Leave me, she commanded. At once they were gone.

She closed her eyes, and fingered the agates at her throat, letting their magic help keep her evil side at bay. It was a struggle. She lay weak and sweating when it was done. The dark in her gained strength in these surroundings and each time she allowed it to manifest, it became harder to subdue. Soon, she would be unable to suppress it. It was imperative she act quickly, but she could do nothing until the Demon summoned her.

Faustio’s horn was in the Demon’s chamber. It lay in an iron chest set with a powerful magic that would tell her lord instantly if the lid were so much as brushed by the skirts of a careless slave. It would be almost impossible to snatch the horn before she was struck down. Added to that, no one-not even she, his favored concubine-was allowed inside the Demon’s chamber except at his summons. So she must bide her time and wait for him to call, while the risk of utter ruin grew greater with every heartbeat.

*

Shu’Lan. Attend me.

She had fallen into a light sleep, and the voice of the Demon woke her instantly. Her heart beat thickly in her chest as she started up from the cushions. But there were no cushions. She wailed softly, finding herself lying amid a heap of refuse in a chamber carved from dull black rock, the walls festooned with sticky webs. A huge spider plunged down on a thread and waved its hairy legs toward her face. She stared at it and the thing was suddenly gone. Once again, gold and aqua draperies swayed against the walls and a pile of silken cushions lay at her feet.

Shu’Lan, I shall not ask again.

The Demon’s voice was soft and heavy with threat.

Forgive me, my lord. I was asleep, she said.

She left her room and walked quickly along the hallways, which became brighter at each step. The door of the Demon’s chamber opened as she approached and she fell to her knees and crept inside. She prostrated herself, her forehead deep in the thick pile of the carpet, forbidden to look at him unless he raised her up himself.

I am here, my lord, she said softly

Has your daughter been dealt with for the death of Maelgon? he asked.

Yes, my lord.

And the sea slug? What of him?

I left his body face-down in the loch, my lord.

You please me greatly, Shu’Lan. You should have gone to the flames for bringing a traitor into my house, but this time I will forgive you.

My lord is generous.

Hmmm. Stand up. Let me look at you.

She stood, keeping her gaze lowered. To look at him uninvited would mean death.

There is something different about you. And what is that ugly thing about your neck?

She shrugged. Just a necklace of stones, my lord. It was…of value to the one I took it from.

The Demon laughed. And my lady Shu’Lan must always have what she wants-even to the pleasures of my bed. And do you want that, my lady?

Of course, my lord.

Then you will wait here and prepare yourself to receive me. And if you find the waiting tedious, you may think on the joy to come.

Yes, my lord.

She stood with her eyes downcast for a hundred heartbeats, but she knew he had left the room. The air no longer tingled against her skin, and the weight of his will had lifted a little. She looked up. The room flashed red and gold, with tongues of jeweled blue fire flickering here and there. The bed stood in front of her, heaped with furs and pillows under a canopy of flame. She took a step toward it, her body yearning for the pleasure his touch would bring. Then she forced her fingers to the agates at her throat. After a fierce struggle, she turned aside.

The chest containing Faustio’s horn stood in a curtained recess near the bed. Her hand seemed leaden as it moved toward the lid. Perhaps this was her last moment on earth-or at least her last moment of comfort. If the Demon caught her, she would suffer the tortures of hell before death came. Or worse, he would fling her to the flames in the lake to feed them through eternity. Her teeth clamped on her lip and she tasted blood. Twice she turned away and started toward the bed, her dark side shrieking at her to obey her lord’s wishes and succumb to his will. She stood panting. Her hand crept forward inch by inch. At last, it touched the ice-cold surface of the chest.

The horn was a lovely thing, pale gold with the sheen of pearl playing over its long, spiral surface. Shu’Lan gazed at it transfixed as it glowed in the deep confines of the chest. She lifted it out carefully. At its touch, she felt the evil within her shrink and shrivel until it was utterly gone. She was once more an Immortal, with flaws and faults like all creatures under heaven, but free of the Demon’s thrall forever.

Begone, daughter. The Old One’s voice rang in her mind, urgent and clear.

Shu’Lan turned and fled from the chamber, which had become a place of horror. The gold was gone and the red was no longer drapery, but blood, thick and clotted over all. Blue flames licked and hissed, as small eyes peered from their white-cold hearts. She raced along the hallway, dim and gloomy under dark-flaring torches that whispered of treachery and torture. The floor was thick with slime, and her feet slithered as they sought purchase. From the doors, the carven faces leered and mocked her as she passed, their lips twisting in ghastly smiles. A thousand eyes bored into her shrinking flesh.

Once, she looked back to find the Demon’s highest captain racing behind her. Her heart leapt in her throat. She had once thought him desirable, but now she saw bones through the tattered rags he wore and black pits where his eyes should have been. His clawed hand crackled blue fire and he was almost close enough to strike her down.

A bolt of blue shot toward her as she stared. Now she would surely die. The evil beam struck the horn in a great dazzle, and the bolt was deflected back to hit the captain full in the chest. The howl he gave shrilled painfully in her ears. She watched, horrified, as he dissolved into a pall of stinking smoke. The voice of the Demon roared, promising her tortures beyond all imagining and she quailed at the thought of being taken. She clutched the horn close to her heart and it seemed to carry her forward.

At the ironbound door, the stone sentry reached for her, snapping with his cruel beak. She pointed the horn at him. The bird-man shattered with a dull boom, sharp fragments flying in all directions. She rushed along the path through the scrubby heather and over the beach. Then her feet trod water and she was swimming, faster than she’d ever gone before. She raced through the water, back through the cavern of Dundreggan and the fire-filled lake. Everywhere she passed, hands clutched at her and voices howled and groaned. The horn glowed bright and the hands were stilled. The voices hushed. There was a sound as if the horn had spoken, a long, ringing note, and Shu’Lan felt a great peace descend upon the lake as the lost souls were set free to float upward to the mercy of The Supreme One. The Demon of Fire’s hold on the Hill of the Dragons was broken. He must either come out and fight or lose his power forever.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

>

Isolde watched as Lidia continued to divide her attentions between Xlana and the holy man’s boy. The damnable sphere of light, the sorcerer they called him, seemed to be everywhere, gliding through the cavern as if he could see everything at once. Twice he had lit upon the witch’s body and Isolde had thought she’d heard a mournful sigh come from nowhere. It had to be magic, she decided angrily. She hated magic; it stood one rank lower than faith. She hated her kinsmen, for they all seemed in awe of these great Gods and the powers they possessed.

As the pewter God was carried to a bed, she felt the corners of her mouth turn up. The giant followed, being carried on the shoulders of two of the village turncoats. Evil welled from within. Now was her chance! Lidia’s attention was diverted toward the newcomers. Isolde crept toward Xlana. She inched the witch’s body past the others and into another corridor.

She’d done it! Now all she had to do was follow the path to the cave’s entrance. Of course, she also had to find a way past the guards, but she’d think of something before then. She was so intent on her package that she never noticed the hairy creature watching her.

You seem to have a heavy burden, the elf said. He tsked. Perchance I can help you.

Who are ye? Isolde demanded. Why should I trust ye? Ye might carry this witch back to those damnable Gods. She huffed, her breath coming hard. The blasted female was heavy!

Taking this witch, as you call her, back to her fellow immortals is not in either of our best interests, Elghar said. Might I suggest a better use for her?

Isolde narrowed her gaze on the elf. He was a shrewd one. That was for sure. He was also nothing like the elves she’d heard legends of during her youth; he did seem to match more recent stories, though. Was he the Demon’s elf, the one the giant had searched for but had not found?

Nay, she countered. Ye will not take my prize from me. She be mine to give to the Demon.

The furry creature’s eyes lit with an unholy light and she saw the image of fire blazing within his darkened beady gaze. And how do you propose to carry such a heavy burden? How do you intend to get the attention of the Demon? He paused, an evil twitch on his lips. I thought so. I can help you. With my powers, we can be at the Demon’s side within seconds.

How? The question hesitated at her lips; perchance she didn’t want to know the answer.>

I take that as yes, he said.

He reached down and clasped a hand around Xlana’s ankle. Isolde never knew what hit her. One second they were in the dark, damp cave, the next they were flying past torches burning along the walls, soaring above the trees, and she was staring down at the loch below in a daze. An instant later, she landed face first in dark soil, spitting out tiny pebbles.

Blast ye, ye cursed elf! she shrieked.

A deep voice answered and she froze in place. What reason have you to curse my agent? He serves me well. I cannot say the same for you, however. Perchance I should cast you into the lake of fires?

Isolde trembled with fear. What had she done?

*

Rynak called out Xlana’s name, and the pain in his voice tore at Dykstra’s soul. She knew the connection between the great dragon and his bride went beyond the conscious mind. And she’d seen the tormenting images slicing their way through his dreams. It was not good; Xlana lay weakened at Karn’s feet with the Demon of Fire looking on.

Czerick, you must give him a potion to sleep, she said quietly. He canna wake up and try to battle the Demon in his condition.

Aye, the glowing sphere agreed. But Xlana is in grave danger. Who else will step forward to save her?

Pretog stepped alongside of Dykstra and patted her side. My mate and I will bring our sister back, he said. Be we prepared for the dangers, and know you that I have a plan.

Czerick’s light glistened, his pointed edges sparkled all the colors of the rainbow. Go with the blessing of the Gods.

Wait! Faustio croaked from his sickbed.

He called to Pretog, and Dykstra couldna say for sure what amazed her most-that Faustio could speak or the confidence she felt exuding from Pretog like an aura.

Take the ring from me hand, woodsman, Faustio managed to say between gasps for breath. Mind ye, do not lose it. With it on yer hand, me powers be joined with ye. Mountains will move or fall at yer command.

Dykstra nudged Pretog closer to the older dragon. Take it, my mate. We will need it where we go.

Pretog took the gift and pressed a kiss to Faustio’s hand. Bear you my thanks. Expect I to see you strong upon our return.

Dykstra’s heart melted at the respect and admiration she felt emanating from her mate’s soul. Her man was capable of such wonderful things: love, compassion, and words that could fill a heart with renewed faith. Would she ever see or feel those emotions directed at her?

With a second pat to her side, Pretog was off and running through the corridors of the cavern. He paused and turned to her, the green lines on his face lifted in confusion. Seen have I where Xlana lies, but know I not the way.

Her lips twitched with the urge to smile. Her immortal didna confess his weakness easily. We dig from here, she said. Would fare you well to keep your distance behind me, else you wear the mud and grind of an earthmover.

Dykstra….

I mean ye no hostility. She offered him the smile she’d been withholding and was rewarded with a similar kindness, a gentle light within his eyes that promised more than friendship. Perchance they had reached a turning point in their relationship?

Know you that our cause be strengthened by the second bond? he asked.

Dykstra was dumbfounded. He was proposing the mix of their bloods, but ‘twas the second step in marriage. Perchance he didna know the significance?

Stare you at me as if I wear two heads. Surely, know you this is the natural way of things. Be we bonded and the next step easier to make than the first.

Her heart pounded and she took shaky breaths, as if the walls of the cave were closing in on them. You speak nothin’ of love, she whispered. Are we to be united in friendship alone?

Friends we are, he said. He paused, his next words coming out with great hesitation. But, be we together by the command of the Gods, can we not grow to more?

Dykstra blinked; ‘twouldna do to shed tears. He was offering her more than she’d ever dreamed possible. We could.

Pretog pulled his knife from its leather sheath. With this act, commit I to the marriage ordained by the Gods. He sliced lightly into his forearm and a line of blood, the color of the purple snail, dribbled toward his fingers. He hadna even winced! Where think you best for me to cut you?

The tears from her soul pushed harder against her eyelids. He had already poked a hole in her heart that only he could fill. My front paw.

So be it, he said with a smile. He made a light cut on her paw and placed his arm against her wound.

As their blood mixed, warmth filled Dykstra, the likes of which she’d never felt before. Her whole life floated in visions, entwined with pictures of Pretog as a boy. She saw his loneliness, things she was certain he hadna known himself until this very moment. His mother’s death as she gave birth, his father’s fight to keep their family home from destruction, and their final flight to the woods to keep Pretog safe from the Demon’s far-reaching tentacles.

She saw Pretog’s tears as he lay in the dirt, covered with leaves as he obeyed his father’s command and stayed hidden. She felt her mate’s pain at his father’s dying words. Keep to the woods until the music plays. Ye must stay hidden until the Chosen Ones unite to conquer evil. Go strong, my child, and know that I loved you well.

>

With this act, I commit my heart, body and soul to the marriage ordained by the Gods, she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Pretog rose, his body trembling with the intensity of the images he’d seen. Dykstra knew she’d just exposed every feeling she had toward this man. She had also seen that his affection went deeper and had existed longer than he had ever admitted.

We are strong, my mate. As much as I wish to stay and talk of the things we have shared, we canna. ‘Twill have to wait until Xlana is free from the Demon’s grasp and we are safely back to camp. Pretog nodded, his gaze intense and unnerving upon her. Then she sensed him pushing his sentiments aside.

Later, he agreed with a lingering touch of her fur. Where you lead, follow I. ‘Tis time we rescue Xlana.

Dykstra plowed through the earth, following the path she saw in her mind. She knew nothing more than the whispers of the Gods as they directed her left, then right. Go down. Deeper. You near the Lake of Fires. She obeyed. She didn’t know what the Lake of Fires was, but it couldna be a good thing. Weariness filled her bones, but she kept on, taking strength from the voices and the union she now shared with Pretog.

She slowed, hearing Pretog’s voice for the first time since they’d started.

Near we are to the Demon’s lair.

Nay, my love, ‘tisna the Demon’s lair. But he is close. He comes here at the whim of another. She paused, an image flashing in her mind. His son? She muttered an oath, grateful Pretog didna know Talgarian. Karn holds Xlana, but he is foolish to think he will keep her for long.

She dug a few stones further then opened an entrance to the top. Light filtered in from above and she moved to fill some of the opening with her dirt-encrusted body. From here, my laddie, I must rely on your skills. Faustio was right to send his ring with you. The jagged rock wall beside us goes straight up. ‘Tis on the top where Karn holds Xlana and the fools that brought her to peril.

Pretog worked his way up her side, grabbing clumps of matted hair, until he was in a position to see the goings-on above.

*

Xlana opened her eyes, annoyed by her weakness. Her vision was blurred, but she had no doubt the wench beside her was Isolde. She could also smell the elf and feel his hold on her ankle. At least this time he had not drawn blood, she thought. Och, to be strong enough to destroy Isolde for the devastating effects of the widow’s weed!

So, Xlana, you awaken at last, Karn said. He pulled her by the hair and she saw his twisted expression, the recent scar Rynak had told her about, as well as the scorched remains of his once glistening hair. What is wrong with her? he demanded of Isolde and Elghar, releasing Xlana and stalking toward Isolde. What have you done to her?

She suffers from widow’s weed, Master, Isolde answered, her voice shaky with fear.

Widow’s weed! By all that’s unholy, who the blazes gave her that?

Xlana’s vision cleared-not much, but enough for her to see the lightning in his eyes as he stared at the shivering mortal.

‘Twas an accident, Milord. I fed it to the holy man’s boy and she took it in during ‘er efforts to heal the child.

You fool! Give me reason to spare your life, petty mortal.

I was bringing ‘er to ye, Demon of Fire. Isolde fell to her knees before Karn. As a gift. Ye see, she’s a witch. I’ve ‘eard she’s the one ye want and I beg ye to cease the fires on our village.

Karn laughed so hard that he held his belly as it shook. His roar was so loud, it echoed off other nearby mountaintops. You beg me? He laughed again, ignoring the wench’s frown.

Elghar let go of Xlana’s leg and crept behind her, wrapping his hand in her hair. Think you that she will draw another breath? his voice rasped in her ear.

The stench of the elf wafted under Xlana’s nose. No more than I believe you will bathe before you die, she said. It would do you well to remember that once he’s through with her, you’re next. With me here, you are no longer needed.

Och, ‘tis where you are wrong, Lady Xlana. I still have secrets. Karn wants you, but the Demon wants the others.

She shuddered. He was right, blast him.

Suddenly, lightning blasted from the sky and Isolde fell to a heap of ash. Karn fixed his gaze to the heavens, visibly trembling. He composed himself quickly as a frightening figure in red floated down and landed several stones from Xlana.

She was mine to kill, Karn yelled.

Do not take that tone with me, you miserable peasant. All the world is mine to do with as I please. I could seize your last breath as well, son of mine, and feel not an ounce of remorse.

Xlana gasped. The Demon of Fire! Streaks of black and gold embossed his red robes. Pointed feet encased in shoes of the same color peeked out from beneath the shimmering cloth, which billowed as if a perpetual wind surrounded the exiled God. She dared to look up and noticed his hands, his skin a swirling combination of red and orange, and pointed nails of blue were aimed at her. She shivered. Teardrops of blue fire extended above each fingernail.

Drop your gaze, you impudent wench!

Xlana refused. To do so would be to acknowledge his authority, a blasphemy to the Gods she served. Despite the pounding of her heart, she continued to look up, and saw that his neck was nothing more than blue fire covered with skin. ‘Twas the same for his face, with red and orange veins crisscrossing over his cheeks, his nose and his pointed ears. His hair appeared to be nothing more than flames, bursting and crackling above his head. But it was his eyes that captured her attention. They were black as coal, as dark as the holes in space that Czerick had told her about. She felt no emotions emanating from him. Though he’d yelled at her with all the force of fury, every sensation she had of him was cold, piercing emptiness.

You have spirit, the Demon murmured, covering the distance between them. Long has it been since I have seen a wench of your quality.

She flinched as she felt his mind probe hers.

So…you are a Chosen One. Royal child of the God of Heavens, no less. Czerick was wise to keep you from me.

She is mine, Karn bellowed. The elf brought her to me!

And you, with your foolish attempts to thwart me, brought her to me.

Father, you gave me nothing in this world. ‘Tis her I want, even if I must fight you to have her.

Fight me? The Demon’s fiery brows rose in amusement. He cackled and the sound sent fire and ice prickling down Xlana’s spine. You play with death by a steel sword. I kill with the horns of lost souls. Be gone with you, whelp.

A swish of the Demon’s hand and Karn burst into flames. Xlana covered her ears against the pitiful wailing that only made the Demon laugh harder. Behind her, she felt the elf shudder and hide his face in her hair.

Her body rose as the Demon lifted a single finger in her direction. Her bones still ached from the effects of the widow’s weed. The elf kept a firm grip on her hair as he rose with her and the pain was excruciating. But she kept her gaze even with the fiendish devil who could appear to make her body do anything at his whim.

Let go of her, Elghar, or you will suffer the consequences. The elf released his grasp on her hair and fell to the ground behind her. Now stand away from her. I wish to look at my new bride.

No! I belong to Rynak. I will never submit to you!

The Demon chuckled. Foolish female. You have not even lain with him as husband and wife. I will be the one to take your maidenhead and remove the intriguing signs of purity from your forehead.

He paused and she again felt his essence invading her own. Silently, they battled for dominance. He would not have her! She would die first.

Nay, Royal Child, I will have you and then you shall die. His dark eyes pierced her, probed her soul, and her whole body trembled. Darkness wove its way to her bones and the lines between good and evil blurred. Oh, Gods, she was weakening. Give me strength, Supreme One, she begged.>

Ha! You call upon a fool for help, he said. Join with me and you may watch as their pitiful kingdom crumbles atop the Gods and The Almighty Dragon.

She was appalled by his evil intent. She was tempted by the visions he cast into her, the delights he promised with erotic images. Love and hate ceased to exist; there was just an overwhelming urge to say yes.

That’s it, my sweet. I feel your need, the way your body aches for what I can give you. Your dragon could perhaps fill your body, but I can fill your soul.

He beckoned her to come closer. She moved her left foot restlessly then realized what she was doing. No! She could not do this; she belonged to Rynak.

Rynak, she yelled, struggling with all her might to keep her disobedient body from walking to the Demon. Help me!

From below, Dykstra felt Xlana’s fear, the war waging inside the girl’s body and soul. Now, Pretog. Use the ring!

Of one accord, they worked together to save their beloved comrade. Pretog spread his hand over the ring, facing the wall and willing it to crumble from below. Dykstra focused on Xlana. As the rocky ledge gave way, she willed Xlana to move this way and that. She altered the wind to slow the speed of the girl’s drop and make Xlana’s fall easier. Black rubble gathered around them, and Pretog stood at ready. Xlana landed squarely in his arms.

Run ahead of me, Dykstra ordered. I will close the cave behind us.

Pretog did not hesitate, and Dykstra heard the whisper of his unspoken words in her soul. Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water, protect us all. Keep my mate safe from harm that we might fulfill our marriage vows.

>

Focusing on the earth behind them, she willed the cave to close. In her mind’s eye, she saw the evil elf enclosed in the soil and prayed that nothing living lay within his grasp. Then she ran, quickly catching up with Pretog and Xlana. She lifted them into her mouth and ran faster.

Behind her came voices, but when she glanced backward she saw nothing but shadows and mist. Run faster! She felt a prickling along her back and legs, as if she was being nipped. The hair along her neck ruffled, as if someone or something breathed heavily on her.

She spit Pretog and Xlana out of her mouth, sending them hundreds of stones forward. Take her and keep going, she ordered. She stopped, willing the cave behind them to collapse, hoping she could trap the evil within. It did not work. Surrounding her, she saw hundreds of shapes, tugging at her, pinching her, and biting beneath her hair like fleas.

By the power of the Gods of Heaven, Earth and Water, stop! For the briefest of seconds there was quiet, but Dykstra sensed it would not last. She ran again, collapsing the cave behind her as she went.

Do not drop these walls, the Gods whispered to her. You will open the floodgates to the Lake of Fire.>

Obediently, she ceased dropping the walls and concentrated on catching up with Pretog and Xlana. When she did, she swept them into her mouth and kept moving. The voices and shapes of lost souls caught up. She raced through the caves, up the steep incline and beyond, waiting for the Gods to speak once more. Her bones ached with strain. Finally, she heard the Gods’ approval to seal the wall beside her and she did as she was told. She stopped, gently placing Pretog and Xlana on the ground. She turned around. Facing her was a seamless seal that looked as if she’d never dug through this path before.

Pretog lifted Xlana into his arms and carried her a stone’s throw away. Shake, wife. No intention have I to kiss a mealy worm. Prefer I to kiss your nose or those bonnie dark lips.

Dykstra giggled, the pounding of her heart picking up a new rhythm as joy settled in. We did it, she said with a sigh. We left the lost souls and the Demon behind. She shook off the dirt, pebbles and freeloading creatures with bliss. She walked the distance to where Pretog stood. Xlana lay silent on the ground, her gaze distant, her mouth twisted in agony. Dykstra’s happiness faded until she met Pretog’s loving look.

Bring your head down? he asked.

A lump lodged in her throat and it was all she could do to breathe. He would kiss her-he would really kiss her in dragon form!

He planted his lips firmly upon the lines of her mouth. She tasted the wonder of him and reeled from the thoughts she felt go through him. He cared about her and he was ready to admit it.

A shriek of pain escaped her lips as he stepped away. Och, she cried, silently beseeching him to understand. The change. Faustio said…but, och, the pain! Her head felt as if it was being twisted by rock, turning upward and pushing itself free from the soil below. She groaned as her bones shortened and then reshaped themselves at will. She felt stabbing pains and found herself on the ground, writhing as her internal organs moved themselves to accommodate her new shape.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

>

Dykstra heard Pretog’s whistle of appreciation before she sensed the transformation was over.

Know that you be the most enchanting creature I have ever seen, he said. Never could I have guessed the Gods would bestow such a gift to me.

Dykstra trembled, but not from the cold dampness of the cave. She was warmed through and through by the awe she saw in Pretog’s expression. What could she look like to gain such an approving look?

A slight rift in the air circled around Dykstra, bringing with it a chill. She didna understand, warmed as she was by the heat of Pretog’s stare. Then she knew what caused the glimmer of lust in his eyes. She was naked! Frantically, she sought to cover her breasts with one arm and her lower body with the other. Mortified, she looked everywhere but where he stood.

Be not embarrassed, my love, he murmured as he closed the distance between them. Be proud, my bonnie wife. My heart races at the sight of you, the knowledge you be mine alone. No other man has looked upon you and none will, long as there is breath in my body. Pretog pulled her into his arms and held her close. Warm you my soul as much as you strike fire in my loins.

She didna try to stop the tears as they slipped down her cheek. He had called her beautiful. All her life she had waited for this: the warmth and acceptance of another. To be loved without rules or expectations. She wanted to touch and be touched. She wanted to experience what Xlana and Rynak shared, a love without question. The heat of Pretog’s desire shone brightly in his eyes. His thoughts transferred to her, the knowledge that she was one half of a whole.

Aye, my innocent, that be you, Pretog said. Complete you my world…my life, by standing at my side.

Her stomach fluttered as her gaze met his dark purple eyes. Questions rumbled through her mind, questions he had yet to answer. Pretog, tell me what you see. What do I look like?

Beauty beyond compare, he said. He chuckled. Wish you for details? Your hair shines as brightly as the sun, as if strands of gold have taken it upon themselves to weave magic upon your head. The same strands fall like a sparkling waterfall to your bottom, he added, with a delicate teasing pinch to her behind. Your face radiates purity, as if your inner beauty has no choice but to expose itself to anyone you meet.

Dykstra’s heart tumbled within her chest. Do I bear the wondrous green lines from my forehead to my throat as you do?

Know you how? he asked.

Seems only right, she answered. Rynak and Xlana share the same darkened speckles above their eyes. ‘Twould indicate the Gods make perfect matches.

Mighty Antzen, this they have. He paused, his eyes twinkling with wonder. Brave you were in the face of the Demon. Made my heart feel like it would burst. Proud I am to call you my love, proud to call you my partner in life and soul.

Kiss me, Pretog. A kiss of equals, a kiss of love everlasting.

He dipped his head and his mouth met hers, first as a gentle mating of their lips, then as an overpowering desire to taste, tease and conquer. When he pulled away, Dykstra realized they were both breathing hard. His grip on her had tightened, and she felt the bump of his manhood against her belly. She pulled away, her heart not entirely in agreement with her mind. What she really wanted was to lie beside him and accept the natural way of things between a man and a woman. But there were other important matters that took precedence, the largest of which was the injured immortal several stones away.

We canna continue like this, Pretog. We must see Xlana to safety. Already I hear footsteps, the heaviest of which I do not doubt is Rynak.

*

Xlana, Rynak cried as he turned the corner. He barely noticed the couple standing stones away, and he shoved aside Red’s assistance as he rushed to his mate’s side. She is weak. I cannot reach her soul. Why is that? He looked for the first time at Pretog, his jaw falling down as he saw the woman at Pretog’s side. Dykstra?

It is I, Heaven’s Dragon. We were successful at pulling her from the Demon’s clutches, but I canna know how deep her injuries lie. He was sucking the strength from her as one savors the juices of yatke fruit. She paused. She called for you, Great Dragon, and cried for help.

I heard her, he confessed solemnly. But I was weak.

You were too weak to assume dragon’s form, let alone come to her aid, Czerick said. You have nothing to be ashamed of Rynak. If you had arrived to steal her away, you would both be dead.

Rynak heaved a dejected sigh and leaned his forehead atop Xlana’s. ‘Twill be the same if she dies now. Our lives are linked, as are our deaths.

This cannot be, Czerick argued. The legends say nothing of this.

Old man, your legends are corrupted by generations of foolishness. The Almighty Dragon speaks of the truth. You have only to keep a pure heart to hear his words.

Czerick sputtered. You know this? He speaks to you? His light burst with indignant sparkles. Why? Why does he choose you?

Why does The Supreme One choose Xlana as his eyes and ears? When you solve this riddle, perchance you can explain it to us. Rynak raised his head and stared lovingly at his wife. A wisp of her midnight black hair lay across her face and he smoothed it back, tucking it behind her ear. Oh, Almighty Dragon and Supreme One, you may take my soul if you take this woman from my side. Strengthen her, please. I beg of you.

>

Rynak, my love, Xlana whispered, her voice strained. I didn’t give in. She hesitated as she blinked back tears. It was so hard, his power so hard to fight, but I knew you would find me.

Rynak’s heart broke. He hadn’t been the one to save her. He had not kept her safe from the Demon’s evil clutches. He couldn’t even see through the darkness surrounding her like an aura. Rynak looked over at Dykstra and Pretog. Thank you was not strong enough to convey his gratitude for what they had done, the bravery they had shown. What can you say to people who give you back the most priceless gift in all the world?

>

Know you that we understand, Rynak, Pretog murmured.

Milady, perchance ye be more comfortable with this? Red asked, holding out his cloak to Dykstra.

Rynak had forgotten the man’s presence entirely and looked over at his friends for a moment.

Dykstra accepted the garment with a gracious smile, slipping from the cover of Pretog’s arm as he held her hair in place to keep her exposure at a minimum. You can still hold me, husband, she teased as she slid back into his arms.

Red held out his hand to help Rynak stand. Oi understand yer need to hold the lass, but in yer weakened state, Oi beg the honor to stand in yer stead.

Letting the warrior carry his beloved was the hardest thing Rynak had ever had to do, but he braved a smile and bit the frustration eating at his soul. He was in no condition to carry Xlana the distance. He wondered whether he would manage the walk himself.

At the private cavern Pretog and Dykstra had created for him and Xlana, Rynak allowed Red to lay Xlana down on the soft fur. Thank you, Red. I find no words sufficient to express my gratitude. He hesitated, sensing Red had concerns of his own that he was muddling through. What ails you, man?

The Sea Maiden, Shu’Ni, Red answered with a blush. She was in the loch when Faustio was shot, and Oi could swear Oi saw her swim away with Faustio’s mate. But Oi could be mistaken as the female I saw had the tail of a mermaid. Do Oi sound daft?

Not at all, Rynak said. Shu’Ni transforms, as do some of the others. On land she bears wings and in the water, she bears a mermaid’s tail.

Oi was hoping Oi was wrong. Red fidgeted, his fingers tapping against his woolen pants. Perchance Oi have lost her then. She left no clues on where she went.

You’re in love with her, Rynak observed.

Beyond anything Oi’v ever experienced.

Then perchance I can calm your fears. Shu’Lan, Faustio’s mate has gone to make atonement for her sins. She carries her injured daughter, Wrelan, with her. Perchance Shu’Ni has gone to assure that all occurs as it should.

Be ye certain on this? Red Falcon had the look of a man straining for his last breath before death.

He hesitated. One can never be certain where Shu’Ni is involved. But I am as certain as I can be that there is a strong bond of loyalty in Faustio’s family, Rynak said. He yawned. Either way, there is naught you can do but wait and since that is the case. I’m wondering if you will stand guard so that my wife and I can rest without fears. The Demon’s elf still lives. I can hear his murderous threats and while it pains my manhood to say so, I do not know that I am able to protect Xlana.

Red straightened immediately, his chiseled features in military form. Enough said. ‘Twould be my honor, Sir.

Thank you, Red Falcon. I owe you much for your efforts in this wretched war. They shall not be forgotten, nor shall your concerns for the safety of Shu’Ni. Her father would welcome a strapping lad such as yourself as a suitor for the girl.

Rynak turned on his weary heel and strode to his wife. He lay down and pulled her to him, holding her as he channeled what strength he had left to her. He worried for long moments as she withheld her soul from his and lay with her back to him. Had he lost her to the darkness? His fears ran rampant until she seemed to relax and then turned to hold him in return.

*

Dykstra trudged wearily beside Pretog, her bones aching and her eyes barely open to see where he led. Her senses came to full alert, however, as he turned a corner, leading them to a quiet cavern similar to the one she had dug for Rynak and Xlana. A bed lay in the far corner strewn with leaves.

What is this place? When—

Think you be the only one to move dirt? Pretog teased. Admit I that it takes longer for me, but in the last few days I have hoped….

Hoped?

Prayed, he said, that we would find our way to a true marriage. Understand will I if ye say nay.

Dykstra smiled. His words said one thing; his eyes said another. True, he would understand, but he wouldna be happy with her decision. Perchance we could lie together and rest for a while?

So be it, he agreed. If he held any regret or unhappiness by her choice, he kept his thoughts and expressions unreadable. The day has been long and weary we are.

She yawned then laughed as he did the same. Yes, beloved, weary we are. But with a bit of rest…. She let his mind wrestle with that, then chuckled as she heard his thoughts. He’d already decided what the morn would bring.

They lay down, their limbs entwined and their foreheads touching as if they feared being apart. Pretog’s breathing slowed to a steady pace, causing Dykstra to smile again. He was already asleep.

She, however, found herself restless. Was the rest of their alliance safe? She searched for visions, focusing intently on dragons and immortals alike. She had heard the rumors of Shu’Ni’s disappearance and tried to connect with the Sea Maiden. Nothing; neither good nor bad images appeared. She sighed. Next, she tried to connect with Faustio and heard his mumbling as he slept under the watchful eye of Lidia and Czerick. Rynak and Xlana were easier to conjure in a vision. They slept wrapped around each other, drawing strength and sustenance from each other. If the images flashing in Rynak’s dreams were any indication, the morrow would be the final consummation of their marriage.

Finally, she came to Red Falcon, fascinated as she was by his helpful manner with Rynak and the loyalty he exhibited to their cause. Red stood guard outside Rynak and Xlana’s cavern, but his thoughts were on the Sea Maiden. Well, this was a surprise. But would it please the Sea Dragon? Had Shu’Ni gone with her mother and sister to the Old One’s hut? Dykstra had a premonition of danger for all three, the worst of all for Shu’Ni. But there was naught she could do to help any of them. She presented her petitions for the three women to the Gods and prayed for their safety.

She looked over at darling laddie. Och, he could be a challenge, but what miracles he’d wrought today! She sighed dreamily, thinking of the day’s events and curled closer against him. Her mother was wrong. Falling in love was not a fool’s errand, but rather a reward to the faithful. Never again would she listen to her mother’s poisoned lectures. This life was hers and she intended to live it as the Gods intended. At peace and reveling in Pretog’s warm arms, Dykstra allowed her mind to rest, and sleep immediately followed.

*

Elghar, the Demon’s elf, shook himself again. He splattered mud, twigs and splinters of rock in all directions. He huffed, afraid to voice his anger at the Demon for not digging him out of the rubble, or for saving him two days travel on foot. All he had received from his master was a stern demand that he ‘get moving and return to the caves.’ The creature wants his bride, Elghar thought. What was it about that wench that had every male, mortal or immortal, mooning about her like a lovesick puppy?

When at last he reached the cave entrance, he silently slipped by the guards and went to join the rest of his kinsmen. Their chatter grated on him, but he answered their questions of his whereabouts with relative ease. Of course, he didn’t tell them about the Demon and how the exiled God had struck fear in him, from his heart to his toes. When at last his fellow elves seemed appeased, he began to create the story he’d decided on and how they would achieve the freedom they all longed for.

Here is what we are going to do. He stared pointedly at two friends. Their loyalty was unquestionable. You will work your way from this cavern to the connecting corridors leading to the next island. Find the hairy dragon and her mate, the woodsman. Learn the whereabouts of her dragon’s horn.

He glanced at five others, calling them by name. Make your way to the other island and talk with the elves there. Turn them or kill them.

What you do? they asked in turn.

I have a bride to seize for the Demon, he replied. And kill her, but not before he drained every drop of her blood. The powers his master would gain from claiming Xlana would be better served in his hands, Elghar thought. Who knew what the Demon would actually do once he attained the glory he sought?

*

Xlana woke with a start. Where was she? Had she succumbed to the Demon of Fire’s demands? Was she in his bed now? Everything within the last day, perchance two, was a blur.

You are with me, beloved, Rynak whispered, drawing her closer to him. You are where you belong.

Xlana shuddered. Hadn’t she heard the same thing implied by the exiled God? She pushed against Rynak, her hands against his chest as she looked down at him. Merciful Saints, she was safe and the body below her was that of her mate. But what had she done? Had she sinned against their union?

You still fight the darkness, Rynak murmured. I cannot read your thoughts, and your expression frightens me.

I am all right, she lied. No, that’s not true. I fear I have done the unforgivable.

You said you didn’t give in. I was not certain what you meant, but if you wonder whether you lay with him as man and woman, I can vouch for your innocence.

H-h-how?

‘Tis written on your forehead. You are as chaste as you were before you disappeared.

Xlana didn’t feel chaste. She felt sullied as a village whore. Memories of her encounter with the Demon began to surface: her overwhelming lust, the temptation to rule beside him, the frightening images of those she loved being destroyed as she watched in pleasure. I am not clean, Rynak. The purity you speak of is an illusion and my heart breaks when I think of all I could have walked away from.

But there is the truth of it, he said. You could have walked away, but you did not. You held fast.

She silently blessed him for his attempts to help. Who is to know what I would have done had Dykstra and Pretog not saved me?

I know. He gently set her aside and rose to sit, leaning against the cool wall. You called to me. I heard you. I heard you beg me for help. If I could have, I would have been there to fly you to safety.

He would have killed us both, she said. Her heart burned with misery.

I would die a thousand times rather than live one lifetime without you.

I don’t deserve you. She pulled away, but he grasped her arms and brought her to him.

And I don’t deserve you. I failed to protect you, he said with a heavy sigh. But we are one. The Almighty and The Supreme One ordained that we belong together. No matter what we think, or you fear you may have done, or what I didn’t do, our love stands true. We are cleansed, but we must accept that we are clean and holy. To do less is to blaspheme the giver of blessings.

She smiled, a hesitant twitch of her lips. You make it sound so easy.

Nay. ‘Tis not an easy task, merely a necessary step. You think it easy for me to swallow the bitterness against myself for being too weak to save you?

What happened? she asked. I could not feel you or hear your thoughts.

First, ‘twas the widow’s weed we ingested from the boy. Then came the need to heal Faustio, and I was told you were fulfilling duties elsewhere. I could not feel your presence and I battled within my conscience over whether I should search for you or save our brother’s life. In the end, I knew what I must do. Without you, I was the only one who could heal him. He looked away, his face coloring with shame. Then I fell. When I next saw light, I heard your call, but I could not transform. Red helped me to the place in the caves where we found you with Pretog and Dykstra.

Xlana reached forward and clasped his chin with her hand, turning him to face her. She smoothed the wrinkles in his forehead with her fingertips. You saved my life while we worked on the boy. You saved Faustio’s life. You have nothing to regret. This war is not of our choosing. We simply answer the needs of others as they occur. She kissed him lightly and was thankful to feel his lips solid under her own. Perchance you can answer my need now. She felt her face heat with embarrassment. I have need of my husband, to lie with me and love me until the rest of the world fades to nothingness.

Think you I be capable of this? he asked.

She giggled at his attempt to sound like Pretog. Most definitely.

She pulled him forward and kissed him hard, allowing him to feel her need and sense her every thought. He groaned and she knew he’d reached the core of her mind. She was on her back in an instant. His touch against her bare skin warmed her inside and out. Their bodies, perfectly aligned, were proof of the Gods’ all-knowing, flawless plans and design.

If you truly love those speckles on your forehead, I should stop now, Rynak said, poised to make their union complete.

He was teasing her. He had no intention of stopping and she knew it, just as she knew she didn’t want him to stop-ever. Take them away, she answered breathlessly. I would prefer the universe knows we are one in all ways.

Together, as she had requested, they made the rest of the universe disappear. For long hours, they feasted on each other, inhaling the sweet incense of love made perfect and tasted the fruits of pleasure too long denied.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

>

Shu’Lan sat on the edge of the bed, watching her husband as she’d watched her daughters in what seemed like another age. Faustio’s face was drawn with pain even in sleep, and she longed to comfort him. But she had no right. She was not worthy to touch him. When he woke, she would give him the horn. Then she would find some quiet place and spend the rest of her days in atonement, tending the poor and sick.

Faustio groaned, and threw his head from side to side. One hand clenched on the coverlet and the other beat feebly against his chest.

Faustio, she whispered. Wake up, my dearest lord.

The pewter eyes opened, closed, and then opened again. He pulled himself up weakly, panting and leaning back against the pillows. Who are ye? he croaked.

I am nothing. She lifted the horn so he could see it, then placed it gently in his hands. The pearly glow lit up the cavern and she ignored the whispers of others who glanced in their direction. I do not ask forgiveness. I have done that which cannot be forgiven. But….

Shu’Lan, lass? Ye’ve come back, and with me horn? All Gods be praised. Faustio held the horn tight and she could see the strength rising in him. We’ll speak no more of forgiveness. I’ve learned much from Rynak since yer saved Wrelan at the loch. I know now that I should have taken better care of yer in the old days. ‘Twas me fault….

‘Twas never your fault. I was weak and jealous. She shook her head sadly and looked at him through a haze of tears. What a fool I was, to be jealous of my own babe.

Say no more. The past is done and I have never stopped loving ye. He wrapped her in his arms so fiercely she cried out. He kissed her, savoring her lips and mouth for a long moment, then he pushed her gently away. He threw the covers aside and leapt from the bed.

Stand back, lass, so I don’t hurt ye. He laughed aloud, the spirit strong in him. Then he transformed.

She saw the long, sinuous war-beast that had graced the prow of her father’s longship as it drove through the Northern Seas-the Sea Dragon, covered with pearly pewter scales that flashed and winked along the curving length of his body. His legs were short and powerful, tipped with silver claws to strike fear in the hearts of the enemy. His wings rose silver-white like foam on the waves, and he beat them strongly as the echoes of his laughter rolled booming through the caves. Screams of frightened patients and caretakers echoed around them, but she ignored them all. She watched him, her pride in him overwhelming, and he caught up his horn in one claw and offered it to her.

Take it, Shu’Lan. ‘Twill be safe with ye now.

She lowered her eyes and took it hesitantly. Are you sure, my husband?

When she looked at him again, he was once more an Immortal, his sea-gray eyes smiling. Certain sure…me wife, he said.

*

Wrelan awoke to dim light and the sound of rain, spattering on roof and window. She lay for a while, thinking over all that had happened to her in the past days, ending with the confrontation with Rynak in the loch, and the dream-journey to the Old One’s hut. Her body felt stiff, as if she’d lain in bed for a long time, but apart from that she felt surprisingly fit.

Shu’Ni lay beside her, curled like a babe in sleep. Careful not to disturb her sister, Wrelan slipped from under the coverlet and padded across to the window to peer out through a gap in the shutters. Spears of rain slashed the grass and low clouds shrouded the day in gloom. Trees creaked and thrashed, and a whirl of leaves flew on the wind.

She shivered and crept back to the hearth. Her tunic lay folded on the stones, clean and dry, and she slipped it on. Morag’s necklace was gone. She vaguely recalled giving it to her mother and felt a moment’s regret at its loss. She sat down on a stool to warm herself by the fire, which popped and sizzled as drops of water splashed down the chimney. There was no sign of the Old One or Shu’Lan. But where could they have gone in such weather?

Wrelan thought grimly that she knew just where her mother was-on her way back to the Demon’s Palace. Back to her lover, from whom neither the weather nor the love of her family would keep her for long. Perhaps the Old One was with her, trying to persuade her to give up her evil path and come home. She sighed. She doubted even the wise old woman would succeed at that particular task.

The enticing smell of warm bread wafted to her nostrils, mingled with the faint tang of green herbs. Her mouth watered. A loaf of bread sat on an iron trivet near the fire with a crock of soft cheese and a knife close by. She tore a piece from the loaf, spread it with cheese and ate hungrily. The cheese was salty and it made her thirsty; she looked about for something to drink. There was a jug of water on the table, and some earthen mugs. She poured a cup for herself, idly scanning the other things that lay there.

A huge old book bound in soft leather piqued her interest. There was a low golden gloss on it, as if polished by the oft-repeated touch of loving hands. It was embossed with a star that twinkled and faded in the dim light. She touched it tentatively and a small shock rippled up her arm. This was intriguing. There was a pot of ink and a quill beside the book, and she wondered if the Old One spent her days in writing, like the learned holy men Papa had spoken of. But what would a lonely old woman find to write about?

She lifted one edge of the cover gingerly, raised it a little more, then opened it fully. There was no writing as she knew it. Strange runes, tiny and clear, hundreds upon hundreds, covered page after page. They were crisply black, but each scintillated with pinpoint sparks of color. How could human hands pen anything so small and exquisite? She reached out to trace one with her finger and suddenly she saw pictures, not in the book, but around her in the air. A great dragon, his long, sinuous body pearly silver, faced a woman of dark beauty, whose eyes gleamed violet blue. She pulled her finger back from the parchment, and the pictures faded.

Oooh, she breathed, totally entranced.

She touched the rune again and the picture reappeared. Now the dragon spewed silver light from his mouth. It hit the woman, sparkling and coruscating round her. She dimmed and faded until she was a shadow, only her fiery eyes alive and glowing, full of hatred and malice. Just like that ghostly bird of Skena’s. Ugh! Wrelan turned the page quickly, and leafed through the book. Part way through, the writing ceased, the remaining pages blank. She touched a rune toward the end and gave a cry of shock. It was Niall, there in the cavern under Dundreggan. And there she was, falling into the lake as Skena’s warriors brandished their swords. Her finger leapt off the page as if she’d been stung. Dear Gods, what was this thing? She let her finger slip back down, wanting more than anything to see Niall again, but dreading to watch his death.

The blue fire flared around the cavern, glistening on the warriors’ mail and their upraised swords. Niall didn’t so much as glance back at Wrelan as she disappeared under the water. His gaze was fixed on the enemy. One stood apart from the others, his rich trappings proclaiming him the leader.

He inclined his head toward Niall. Take him.

The rest advanced slowly and the young man stood with his knife poised, pointing it first at one, then another, the water lapping at his heels.

I shall take a good many a’ ye with me to the otherworld. Niall laughed, a great joyous sound, and the echoes filled the cavern. Which one a’ ye shall be first?

They closed in on him. He thrust with his knife, sending a warrior to the ground, bloody and spewing out his life. He pivoted and stabbed another, slashing the man’s chest in a great gout of red. Then they were on him, and he was buried amid a flurry of swords and flailing arms. The fight was short and brutal, but it seemed for a while as if Niall might win. Then a massive warrior clubbed him with the flat of his sword, and he went down in a tangle of limbs and weapons, shaking his head dazedly.

Bring him, the leader commanded.

They seized Niall and dragged him to his feet. Blood ran down his face, and stained his tattered plaid in a dozen places, but he looked at the bodies sprawled on the cavern floor with a grim smile. Well, there’s four a’ ye shallna fight for the bitch again.

One of the warriors dealt him a backhand blow. He staggered but managed to keep his feet. Och, ‘tis brave laddies ye are that do battle ten against one. His eyes rested on the leader scornfully. Or nine, I shoulda said, since your fine lairdie there willna dirty his hands wi’ fighting.

The leader eyed him coldly. We shall see how loudly you crow when Skena’s done with you.

They started back across the cavern, dragging Niall with them.

The pictures faded. Wrelan’s heart pounded. Dear Gods, they’d taken him to Skena. Had the witch tortured him? Killed him? She felt she could have borne it had he gone down in battle, but to fall into Skena’s hands, his worst nightmare come true. Hastily, she slid her finger onto the next rune.

Wrelan! For shame! How dare you pry into what is none of your concern?

Shu’Ni’s voice made Wrelan jump a foot in the air and she turned gasping, to find her sister sitting up on the pallet, a familiar expression of disapproval marring her features. Shu’Ni threw back the coverlet and climbed out of bed, scowling as if she intended to give her sister a sharp slap. She was pretty and tousled, and suddenly Wrelan no longer resented her scolding.

Oh, ShuShu! The pet name she’d used when she was too tiny to be influenced by her mother rose easily to her lips. I saw Niall again, here in the book. My own, brave laddie.

Who is Niall? Shu’Ni demanded. And how can he be in there?

Oh, Shu, he wanted me for wife, and I… Tears rose at the memory, but she held them back. If you don’t believe me, come see for yourself.

I will not do so. Shu’Ni’s stern expression wavered. What…what else did you see?

A dragon, long and silver, the like of which I’ve never seen before. He fought with a dark lady.

Shu’Ni caught her breath. Long and silver? Why, it sounds like Papa, as he used to be. And the dark lady…she was the Demon’s mate.

Papa and the Demon’s mate? Wrelan was astonished. She seized Shu’Ni’s hand and thrust it down onto the page. Tell me quickly, what do you see?

Shu’Ni squeezed her eyes tight shut. No, Wrelan. ‘Tis wrong to read her private words. Her lashes fluttered once or twice then she opened her eyes. This day did I help the farrier heal a horse’s foot of the stone bruise, she read. Then, This day did the old goose hatch an egg that brought forth two chicks. She sighed. Oh, Wrelan, my dear sister. You have been through so much pain of late. It has troubled your mind. You have only dreamed these things.

Wrelan stared down at the page and saw spidery writing, wavering as if written by an unsteady old hand. But beneath it lay the runes, dark, and pricked with color. And her sister could not see them. She put her finger back where it had been before Shu’Ni interrupted the visions.

A camp in darkness. Bright fires burning. Clusters of warriors, drunk and carousing round the flames. Half-naked women shamelessly fawned on them. Wrelan stared fascinated, even as she grew hot with embarrassment. Off to one side, lit only by a dim torch that burned sullenly, was a cage fashioned from thorny branches. Someone crouched inside, with no room to sit or stand or stretch in any direction. As she watched, the figure stirred, and a gleam of light fell on the brooch at his breast. The brooch she herself had pinned there in what seemed like another life. It was Niall. Bruised, bloody, and illused, but by some miracle…alive!

Wrelan stood still as a rock, her thoughts a whirl. If this fabulous book were real, then Niall was not lost to her. He still lived. And she would rescue him.

*

The Old One returned to the hut to find it empty, as she’d known it would be. But a shock awaited her within. The hidden star on the Journal’s cover shone and twinkled, as it did for none save the Chosen One. The book had been opened, despite the seals set against all but herself.

So she has come, she muttered. She who will take my place when The Supreme One frees me from this task.

She touched the star gently. Ahhh…Wrelan. But it would not be yet-not by a hundred years and more. That one had much of life to experience before she was fit to take up her burden and her duty. Even now, she was gone to seek it. The Old One opened the Journal to the last page, picked up the quill, and penned a rune. Images danced before her closed eyes.

So…her sister had gone with her. She shook her head sadly. Evil would come of this, and sorrow. The Demon would wax strong, and his mate….

The Old One closed the book quickly, and the visions flew away. It was not for her to prophesy, only to record. And though she knew all paths from beginning to end, she could not say how they would be trod, or by whom.

*

The storm had faded to misty drizzle, and the path through the woods was sodden. It was almost dark under the trees, where water dripped from leaf and twig. Wrelan pulled the hood of her cloak closer about her face.

Shu’Ni, please go back, she said. It will break Papa’s heart when he finds you’re gone.

Shu’Ni shook her head. If I cannot persuade you to give up this foolishness, at least I can be there to look out for you.

She wore a leaf green tunic and cloak Wrelan had found on the peg behind the Old One’s door, and a pair of soft boots that had stood on the floor beneath. She would have refused to take the garments, but Wrelan insisted, and when her sister found they fit to perfection, she had given in. She looked small and far too delicate for the long walk ahead.

I can do it alone, Wrelan said. Didn’t I save Mama from the Demon? And he is far more powerful than this Skena.

You saved Mama? Gods give me patience. You almost got her and Papa and yourself killed, as well as that unfortunate elf.

Oh, poor Papa. Wrelan pictured her loved ones floating face down in the water. And my little Elfin.

Papa will recover, Shu’Ni reassured her. And the Elf Mother will find a hollow tree to guard your Elfin, with an Antzen seed at his breast, and his two hands clasped over it. He will live again, when his time comes.

Wrelan shook her head in wonder. How do you know these things?

If you hadn’t run from your lessons so often, you’d know it for yourself, and much more besides. She smiled to take the sting from her words, and Wrelan’s heart lightened a little.

I must go on, Shu’Ni. If you had a chosen mate you’d understand. She saw a deep flush spread over her sister’s face. Sooo…. Who is he?

A dimple peeped in Shu’Ni’s cheek. Oh, Wrelan…his name is Red Falcon, and he is so kind. He’s as strong and handsome as the Northmen’s sled dogs. And he’s a wonderful swordsman. But I fear Papa will not allow him to ask for me. He’s only a humble blacksmith.

If he does so well with his sword, I’ll wager he’s a prince in disguise, Wrelan said. And Papa will be pleased to welcome him to the family.

Shu’Ni gave her sister’s arm a playful swat. You know Papa forbids us to wager. Her dimple peeped again. Do you really think he could be a prince?

If you believe so, that’s all that matters. Well, if you must come with me, come. But the way is rough, and I must hurry. You may not be able to keep up.

Wrelan soon found that her sister was far tougher than she looked. Shu’Ni told her of the laborious tasks Dykstra had set her, caring for the sick and wounded, hour after hour. She told of all that had happened in the caves and villages, of the dragons and immortals, the villagers and elves, and the horror of flames hurtling down on living creatures. Then Wrelan told of her journey through the caves and passages, the great cavern under Dundreggan, the Lake of Fire and the Demon’s palace.

They came out of the dripping woods and started up through the broken country of the foothills, stopping only briefly to eat some bread and cheese Wrelan had brought from the hut. And in a brooding, damp-filled dusk, they found the rock formation that overlooked the witch’s camp.

*

The first moon glowed dimly through the murk, a haze of blue that turned the hillside into a shadowed wasteland. Wrelan crouched deep in a nest of rocks, Shu’Ni’s shoulder warm against her own. Below them, Skena’s camp looked far different from the pictures conjured by the runes. There was no drinking and carousing and no sign of the sluts who followed the army. Most warriors lay sleeping round the fires, but sentries prowled, their heads constantly moving as if to peer into every shadow. Some had thin hounds padding beside them, their eyes red sparks in the gloom. At the far end of the camp stood a sprawling tent, lit by a banner of violet flame that flew above it. It must be Skena’s, Wrelan surmised. She must be deep in league with the Demon to fly such a flag.

Do those wretched sentries never cease their vigilance? Shu’Ni murmured.

The Gods only know, Wrelan replied. I wish I could loose my smoke on them and slay them where they stand.

She scanned the camp, her gaze constantly returning to the cage and its occupant. So close, yet so unreachable. She was stiff and tired, and soon it would be dawn. In daylight, there would be no chance of freeing Niall. She cudgeled her brains, seeking some kind of plan. Shu’Ni nudged her gently.

I could be down there in the blink of an eye if I use my gift. I could release Niall.

No, Shu’Ni. It will cost your life if you’re seen.

The torch near his prison burns low and the sentries rarely pass that way. Let me try.

Wrelan sat silent for long moments. When she spoke, her voice shook a little. I’ll be forever in your debt if you free my laddie. But I already owe you more than I can repay, for all your care of me. If anything should happen to you…. She bit her lip. At a sudden thought, she reached into her pocket and produced the jeweled knife she’d taken from her would-be bridegroom’s body. Take this. It’s sharp as an elderbeast’s tooth. ‘Tis useful for cutting bonds-and piercing evil hides. The Gods keep you safe, my sister.

Shu’Ni vanished from her side. Wrelan stared at the shadows round the cage, vainly striving to see what was happening there. There was a faint movement, then the cage shook gently. A patch of greater darkness wavered before the bars, then moved haltingly off to the side. Wrelan’s heart beat so fast she thought she’d choke.

Suddenly, Shu’Ni was beside her again. He can’t walk, she said. The beasts have kept him caged too long. And I couldn’t carry him with my gift. It isn’t strong enough to hold a mortal. I managed to help him to the shelter of some rocks and I left him the knife, but he can’t stay there. A search would find him in a heartbeat.

We’ll have to climb down and help him, Wrelan said. Oh Gods, they’ll surely hear us.

Hold on to me and help me with your thoughts. I’ll try to take you there.

Wrelan clasped her sister and closed her eyes, visualizing them both at the bottom of the cliff. She had a sensation of falling, spinning, then a gentle bump. She opened her eyes. They had done it; they were beside the cage. Shu’Ni staggered and she would have fallen if Wrelan hadn’t still been clasping her side. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and she was sickly pale in the flickering torchlight. Using her gift to carry both of them had taxed her to the limit.

That way, Shu’Ni said weakly, pointing to a small rock formation. I left him there.

Wrelan lifted her sister and carried her to the rocks. The knife blade glinted as Niall prepared to defend himself, but he lay back as he saw who had come.

Och, ye foolish lassies, he said. Didna I tell ye to leave me here? I’d rather die than ha’ Skena take either one o’ ye.

She’ll not take any of us, Wrelan whispered. She set Shu’Ni gently down and knelt at Niall’s side. Then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him fiercely. Och laddie, I thought you were dead.

Dinna cry, ye foolish bairn, Niall said fondly. I’ll be up in a minute, then we’ll be off. I dinna like the look o’ yon guards, and Skena has some foul mischief planned for the coming day.

I don’t think Shu’Ni can move. Wrelan was ripped with anxiety.

Niall rubbed his arms and legs vigorously, with Wrelan helping him. He stood up cautiously, with soft grunts and groans. Och, I’m as stiff as a new-cured hide. He stretched and bent, and after what seemed many heartbeats, he was able to move more freely.

He handed Wrelan the jeweled knife. Guard our backs, lassie.

He lifted Shu’Ni, though not as easily as he would have had he been fit, and began to creep uphill, away from the camp. Wrelan followed him, holding the knife at a wicked angle. Each step was an agony of apprehension. One sound would have the guards after them; one scent-carrying wisp of breeze and the hounds would be baying at their heels. Suddenly, Niall slipped and fell. Loose stones skittered and bounded back down the hill, sounding to Wrelan like the crack of doom. The hounds set up a devil’s chorus of hoarse yelps and the shouts of the guards added to the din. She glanced back and saw the camp boiling like an overturned hive.

Several of the sentries raced toward them and the rest of the warriors awoke and grabbed for their weapons. She hauled Niall up, slung her sister over her shoulder, and began to run, the young man limping at her heels.

Then came a sound that raised the hair on her nape and almost took the breath from her body. A woman’s mocking laughter, followed by an eerie cry that split the night. She is here…the seed of my enemy. Now I will have her, and nothing of this earth shall stop me.

*

It was Niall who saved them from immediate capture. Wrelan felt his hand heavy on her neck as he pushed her toward the ground. There was a fault, a little gap in the rock. She thrust Shu’Ni in and followed, with Niall crowding close behind. After a few crouching paces, it opened into a small cave where the three could sit. The place held a strong animal stench, and Wrelan gagged as she tried to catch her breath. They sat listening to the hue and cry overhead as dogs and guards searched for them.

Wrelan put her mouth against Niall’s ear. Won’t the hounds catch our scent?

They might. But this was a wildcat’s den, and there’s a wee chance they’ll not smell us over its reek.

Pray the Gods you’re right. She turned to her sister. Shu’Ni, do you feel stronger?

If I can rest for a few heartbeats, I’ll be fine.

We canna go on yet, Niall said. They’ll search close by for a while, and I dinna know of another way out of here. Try to rest, the pair of ye, and I’ll keep guard.

Wrelan leaned back against the rocky wall. It was so dark she could see nothing except the phantom images that came with lack of light. She closed her eyes and listened to the warriors questing on the hillside. The sounds grew fainter, but she could almost feel the evil of the witch Skena, hovering over them. Shu’Ni’s breathing grew deep and steady, and she thought her sister slept. Perhaps when she was rested, she could use her gift to escape from this smelly trap and bring help. Or perhaps Niall had a plan. She moved closer and put her lips to his ear to ask.

If they dinna give over searching soon, we’ll be here another day, he said. We canna leave in daylight, and I fear it’s near to dawn. He squeezed her shoulder. Och, Wrelan, I must get home and bring back the warriors of the clan. The bitch has our wee bairns pent up close in her tent. She has killed my sister Raghnaid with some God-cursed magic, and she means to try it again on another before many days are past. If we canna get them free….

Wrelan shuddered, sick with a strange foreboding. What does Skena plan to do?

She felt Niall shiver and he clasped her tightly. Och lassie, if ye could only see her, though I pray the Gods ye never shall. She’s naught but a shadow, with burning eyes, like the terrible bird that chased us through the glen.

Wrelan gasped. But she…she must be the Demon of Fire’s mate. I saw her in the runes. She was stunned with fear. It was my father who made her as she is. Niall, Shu’Ni and I are the seed of her enemy. She’ll never rest until she finds us. And she knows we’re here.

*

Silence hung in the wildcat’s den, thick as the all-pervading smell of its former occupant. Wrelan scarcely dared to breathe, and she was thankful Shu’Ni was still asleep. Niall had not said a word since she’d told him who she believed Skena to be.

The Demon of Fire’s mate. Dear Gods, was it not bad enough to face a cruel witch without this added horror? Wrelan felt claws of despair sink into her heart. Every time she tried to do good, she brought ruin and disaster on those she loved. She sat steeped in misery, until Niall’s arm dropped across her shoulders and drew her close to him.>

Dinna fret yourself, lass, he whispered. Yon witch is enemy to all good folk, not just your kin. He turned his head a little and kissed her temple. And she hasna found us yet. We’ll find the way out and get the bairns away too, never ye fear.

Wrelan clung to him and buried her face against the tattered plaid that covered his chest. His heart beat strong and steady, and she felt comforted. There was naught to be gained by giving in to despair. She brushed away tears with the edge of her cloak and drew a long breath. We need a plan, she said.

Aye. We must get out of here. And now I think on it, there’s a chance we could free the bairns ourselves. Yon witch is too busy searching for ye to guard them very close.

I could do it.

Shu’Ni must have awakened and been listening to them discuss the situation. Her quiet statement struck Wrelan with fresh guilt.

No! she said. You almost died, not many heartbeats since. I will not let you risk yourself again.

You can’t stop me, sister. Besides, I don’t see that we have a choice.

I wouldna have ye risk yourself and there may not be a need, Niall said. Do either of ye hear anything o’ the warriors up above?

No, Wrelan said. I can’t feel the witch’s presence, either.

Nor I, Shu’Ni murmured.

Then, my lassies, I suggest we venture out. I’ll go first, and if the way is clear, ye may follow.

There were small scuffles and bumps as he forced his big body through the narrow passage. Wrelan held her breath and reached for Shu’Ni’s hand.

Ye may come out.

His voice was so quiet, for an instant she thought she’d imagined it. She crawled into the tunnel, feeling Shu’Ni close behind her. Cautiously, she peered out. It was pitch black. The moon had set, and there were no stars shining through the cloud. A cloak of darkness concealed them from Skena’s wrath. They crept a little further uphill then Niall began to circle, skirting the camp. The fires burned low and there was no sign of sleeping warriors. A few sentries paced, but they were far less vigilant than the previous guards and no hounds padded with them. It seemed the best of the army was off with the witch. Wrelan could hear distant shouts and an occasional deep-voiced baying. The search had moved far away from the camp. Perchance the Gods smiled on their quest to free the little ones.

The guard in front of the tent lounged idly on a spear with its shaft dug into the ground. They saw by the light of the fiery banner flying overhead that his eyes were closed. If he wasn’t asleep, he couldn’t be far from it. They stood like statues, watching him from the shadows, until a grunting snore confirmed that he dozed. Niall led them to the back of the tent, which was guarded only by the steeply rising hill. Using the jeweled knife, he cut through the tough hide to reveal a streak of dim light. Carefully, he peered through the slit.

They’re here, and not another soul with them, he murmured. Wait and I’ll pass them out to ye. He handed the knife to Wrelan. They’re bound. Ye must free them and be ready to move fast.

He pulled the opening wide and slipped quietly in. Next instant, Wrelan found herself holding a child. She sliced through the cords that bound small wrists and ankles, and then turned to help Shu’Ni free the next one. There were five in all by the time Niall emerged, two boys and three girls, naked and shivering in the night air. Niall found enough clothing in the tent to cover three. Wrelan and Shu’Ni took off their cloaks to wrap the others. Niall gave a start of surprise when he saw Shu’Ni’s wings, glowing lavender in the little patch of light seeping from the tent.

Och, I never saw such a wonder, he muttered. ‘Tis certain sure ye are not of mortal kin.

He was moving even as he spoke, a child clinging to his back, and one under each big arm. Wrelan grabbed a little girl and slung her across one shoulder, while Shu’Ni carried a tiny boy, no more than two years old. They moved cautiously up the hill behind the tent. The way became rough with overhanging shelves of rock making their progress all but impossible. Niall was forced to set down the three bairns he carried and climb ahead, gaining a solid foothold so Wrelan and Shu’Ni could hand the children up to him one by one, before scrambling after him as best they could.

They traveled away from the wildcat’s den and the searching warriors. Wrelan pictured the terrain in her mind, and she knew that the witch was between them and Glen McConall. There was no easy path to safety. They would have to circle far out of their way to avoid the danger of capture. With the five children to care for, it would be a hazardous road. She felt herself tiring, and she feared Shu’Ni and Niall were no better off. She and her sister had gone many weary strides that day, and Niall had suffered captivity and ill use.

Dawn was breaking when Niall led them into the shelter of a cave, and through it into a deep cavern. He kindled a torch that rested in an iron bracket fixed to a rock. Its light showed a trickle of water flowing down a mossy runnel in one wall, and they helped the children to drink before satisfying their own thirst. There was a rudimentary hearth of stones, laid with a few half-charred logs, which Niall lit with the torch. Close by was a pallet of pine boughs spread with dry grass. The children crept into its warmth, huddling together like frightened pups. They appeared to be well fed, and they showed no signs of physical abuse, but none had uttered a sound since their rescue. Their eyes were huge in small, pale faces, constantly gazing round as if in dread.

Shu’Ni sat down on the edge of the pallet, singing softly-the sweet, enchanted music of a Sea Maiden. The children gazed at her, spellbound. Small thumbs went into mouths; drowsy eyelids fluttered, and they drifted into sleep.

Niall sat on a shelf of rock watching them, with Wrelan close beside him.

My uncles were murdered by the witch. These are all that are left of their bairns. There were twelve taken. The older girls are dead, and the boys… He shook his head.

His eyes grew hard. He was no longer a laughing, carefree youth, but a man grown and a warrior who would lead his small clan to victory or die fighting. Wrelan squeezed his arm wordlessly. Her heart ached for the haunted children. Suddenly she understood. If it cost her life and Shu’Ni’s and Niall’s to save even one of these innocents from the vile Skena, it was more than worth the price.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

>

What are you doing out of bed? Xlana demanded of Faustio. The last I heard you were near death’s door.

Holy Atlantis, he cried. Yer here, safe as a minnow in school. His eyes narrowed on her and he grinned, a cheeky I-know-your-secret grin. The color of yer cheeks tells tales on ye, lass.

Xlana’s face burned, but she stood her ground proudly. You can change the subject as much as you like, Sea Dragon, but the fact remains you should be at rest.

Neptune’s Fork! ‘Tis blarney and I’ll have none of it, he balked. I feel fit and stronger than a landlubber’s ox. He swung his arm out and caught his wife, pulling her to his side. Tis her doin’ that I be standing this morn.

Xlana surveyed the woman and noticed the newcomer’s limbs trembled as she stretched out a hand of welcome. A flicker of a memory teased Xlana’s senses then it was gone.

I-I am Shu’Lan, the petite beauty said.

Shu’Lan? Xlana glanced back to the entrance of the cavern, and found herself staring at her husband in surprise as he walked in.

Faustio’s mate, he said. She has returned from the Old One and it would appear her journey was successful.

Very much so, Lord Rynak. Shu’Lan started to curtsy.

Stop, he replied. We are all equals here, each of us called upon to face the challenges ahead with bravery and honor.

Xlana watched as Rynak’s gaze zeroed in on the glowing pearly white horn in Shu’Lan’s hand.

You have been successful, Lady Shu’Lan. And very brave.

I did nothing. ‘Twas a wrong that needed to be made right, and since I….

Say no more, me wife, Faustio interrupted. The wrong was in the past and should remain there.

I agree, Rynak said. The present and the future demand our attention. He placed a hand on Shu’Lan’s shoulder and welcomed her to the fold. What strength does the Demon retain?

She sighed heavily and Xlana thought she saw a glimpse of a tear forming in the corner of Shu’Lan’s eye. He keeps the horns of a thousand slain Talgarians. She spoke so quietly, Xlana had to listen very hard to hear her. The box was too heavy for me to carry. Her apology could not be missed.

Rynak nodded solemnly. Then we must expect the worst. He has devout followers within these walls. You should tread carefully, Lady Shu’Lan.

Once again an image whispered its way to Xlana’s brain. She saw this same woman, her expression of disdain upon all of them, a glare of defiance from wife to husband, her eyes filled with the Demon’s fire. Was it a vision from the past or a prophecy of the future?

It has been many years since I deserved the title of Lady, Shu’Lan said. In this war, the war…the war that sets things to right, I prefer to earn the respect of my peers.

So be it, he agreed. You will fight at your husband’s side?

You trust her to join us? Xlana transmitted her thoughts to her husband.

She holds her mate’s horn after stealing it back from the Demon. Do we need further proof? Rynak answered silently.>

But what if she didn’t steal it back and this is a ploy?

Open your soul, my love. The answers are there.

Xlana wondered if their hours spent in bed had addled his brain. Shu’Lan had spent years under the influence of the Demon and they were to accept his willingness to let the woman go? She shook her head at Rynak and ignored his questioning glance. Did he not realize the powers the Demon held, even after he’d seen them firsthand with her? The darkness that stole one’s will….

I will fight beside my husband…if he will have me, Shu’Lan said. Her gaze narrowed on Xlana, as if she was probing her innermost thoughts.

Ar, by Neptune’s Fork, there be no question. I’ll have ye. Faustio beamed.

What of your desires for your former lover? Xlana wanted to ask. Instead, she asked, What of your daughters? Have they returned? >

Nay, Shu’Lan said, her voice husky with remorse.

Was this immortal so practiced at lies or had she truly given up the evils of her past? Xlana did not know. Opening her soul, as Rynak had suggested, had not helped.

I have tried to see where they are, but all I see is darkness. It troubles me. Perchance Wrelan has gone to find the man she whispers of in her sleep. She shivered. I fear her path is filled with danger and Shu’Ni walks it with her.

Faustio’s mate is right, Dykstra said grimly as she strode in the cavern.

Xlana’s jaw dropped. Dykstra was so beautiful! She glowed in a way Xlana could not describe, as if lit by an inner candle at full burn. When had she transformed? If the green stripes across the woman’s forehead were not there, Xlana was certain she would not have recognized her. But the stripes were muted, lighter than those on Pretog’s face. Had they…?

At this very moment, Wrelan, Shu’Ni and a man face a dark enemy in the shadows. I believe you call her Skena. Dykstra looked over at Xlana and smiled shyly. Sister, I am fine, as is Pretog. We have found our way to each other, just as you have hoped.

Oh, my Gods. My babies, Shu’Lan replied, leaning her head against Faustio’s shoulder. I should never have left them.

But you did, Xlana reminded her, turning away from Dykstra to face Shu’Lan. This attractive pewter statue of femininity had walked away from her children. Twice. Rynak’s reproachful glare didn’t need words.

Was I to risk their capture in the Demon’s Palace? Shu’Lan asked Xlana.

Xlana looked away, focusing her attention on the muddy wall of the cavern. She had already seen the vision of Wrelan at the Demon’s Palace. Shu’Lan had placed one daughter in jeopardy by exposing her to the evil one’s view. Now there were two innocent girls in the path of danger.

They follow their own destiny. Dykstra looked pointedly at Xlana and sighed. Then she turned to Shu’Lan. You should be proud of your daughters. They have found their way to each other and work for the good of others. I hope this brings you peace in the times to come.

In times to come? Dykstra, what are you leaving out? Xlana asked. She was certain the beautiful blonde knew more and was choosing her words carefully.>

I canna say. The vision isna complete.

So what do we do now? Xlana asked Rynak.

We pray to The Supreme One and The Almighty Dragon…and we wait. We cannot search for the girls if we do not know their location. He paused. I fear the Demon of Fire will not make us wait long. The price of this war rises with every minute.

It seemed everyone agreed, given that heavy silence like the darkened mist outside the caves hovered ominously within the cavern walls.

We leave you to your thoughts, Rynak said. He took hold of his wife’s arm, tugging her along as he withdrew from the presence of the others. What was all of that about? he hissed.

Which part? she countered. The one where you welcome Shu’Lan back into the ranks as if she’d never left, or the part where you forget she leaves two girls to their own defense? She glared hotly at him. Would you be so forgiving if I had left our offspring in a dangerous situation?

He frowned. You would never leave our children undefended, no more than you would bend to the will of the evil one.

His words bit. Hadn’t she, just days earlier, nearly thrown away everything precious to her? Xlana stepped back, certain she’d been stabbed in the heart with a knife. Had she really judged Shu’Lan so harshly, forgetting how close she’d come to slipping into the darkness herself? By the Gods, what have I done? She nearly slumped to the ground before Rynak pulled her back up and against him.

He tipped up her chin and kissed her nose. You acted like a mortal and a caring mother. You also remind me of the need to consider the alliance before its individual members. I thank you. He frowned again. Do you believe we should trust her? Have I been led by blind faith and not by the guidance of The Supreme One?

I…I don’t know, she answered. I’m not certain I trust myself, let alone Shu’Lan. She slipped her arms around him and clung to him for comfort. What of the girls? What part do they play in all of this? Are they to be pawns or will we lose them as the war escalates?

No one will know until the time comes, he said, hugging her back. If perchance we were to find the Records Keeper, we would still not know. She is bound from speaking until the events are recorded.

What of this Records Keeper? she asked, pulling back to look up at him. Just how far did his knowledge extend? Where had it come from? He was speaking of things that Czerick said only within the hush of a whisper, as if it was his right. What of your ability to be led by The Almighty Dragon? She searched his lavender eyes for answers and found none. This goes far beyond your being Dragon of the Heavens, doesn’t it?

He walked her toward a wall, sat down, and pulled her onto his lap. You still do not recognize the truth, do you? he asked. She shrugged; perchance she did not. Do you believe you are of direct lineage to the God of Heaven? She nodded. But you see no further than this connection?

Rynak, you ask me to sort out my entire life within the span of this war! Only weeks ago I believed myself the daughter of a sorcerer, my mother lost while giving me life. ‘Tis too much for me to absorb and fight the evils that assail us from every side.

But, he said, then hesitated. If you were to accept the whole truth and dig deep within your soul, you would find the powers to not only withstand your questions and the obstacles that surround us. You would know strength and understand the purity of the bond that unites us in one spirit against the Demon of Fire.

The purity that I have tainted, she murmured mournfully. The elf…her weakness against the Demon….

You have tainted nothing, he snapped. She jumped in his arms and he tightened his hold, then apologized. You were tested. The elf gained nothing more than a tiny fragment of the powers you possess. The Demon of Fire gained nothing of your soul. He merely tasted of holy water and wanted more. Do you truly believe The Supreme One and The Almighty Dragon would have allowed you to succumb to the Demon’s lies?

You were afraid for me. I felt your fears, she said.

I remain fearful, he admitted. Love strengthens a person even as it terrifies him. We are in the first days of our love, yet we fight powers that would gladly strike us down. Of course, I’m afraid. I want tomorrow, and the day after that. I want to see you hold our newborn child in your arms, to see your luscious hair gray with age. As our lifeline dwindles, I want to see you smile at me, your love glowing within your royal purple eyes.

I want that, too. Her lips twitched with a smile begging to come out, but pretty words did not make the dangers of the day invisible. But what if we do not prevail? We do not know where this battle will take place. How are we to fight? Do we fight a war with steel and armor or a battle of united spirits?

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. We do not know. This is true. We must trust in our kinsmen and in the Gods who unite us. When the time comes, we will know and we will act. And we will win, he concluded, the passion in his voice echoing off the walls. It only stands to reason that if there be a battle in Faustio’s time, we must win this one.

She shook her head, her thoughts muddled as if she sat in a puddle of muck. I cannot take it all in, my love. ‘Tis too much for me.

He gently kissed her nose and rose from the ground, carrying her with him, and then let her slide down the front of him. Tingles raced through her veins at the feel of him so close, so hard against her softness.

Satisfy yourself with this, he said, kissing each eyelid. And this. He kissed her lips, first with a gentle taste, then hard, allowing her to feel all of his need for her. Slowly, he pulled away and chuckled as she swayed against him. Perchance we would be better served if we worked through one moment at a time. I believe you were set on seeing the holy man’s boy.

Oh…Oh! The boy. Macklin! She’d forgotten all about him. That’s right, she said, I was. I am told he is awake today and survived Isolde’s treachery.

That he has, Rynak said with a smile. A good thing for us that he has. Our son will need a good friend at his side.

Our son? She blinked. Suddenly, she knew he spoke the truth. Our son, she repeated, her hand going automatically to her belly and gently stroking it. There was life beneath her palm; she knew it as surely as she knew there were four moons in the night sky. You would raise the holy man’s boy as our own? You would do that for me?

I would do that for us. He chuckled and stroked her cheek with his finger. For all of us. Come, let us ask young Macklin if he will accept his new Mama and Papa.

*

Elghar blinked as he thought of the giant’s words. Such fools they were to believe their future was longer than the day at hand. And to hear that he only held a scant portion of Xlana’s powers! Ha. They would see how little they knew. Soon. He spared a moment to linger on the rest of what the giant had said.

So, he believed himself empowered by The Supreme One and The Almighty Dragon, did he? Elghar chuckled at that. Until this war there had been no sign or word of the great beings. It had been rumored throughout his clan that they were a myth. The only almighty one was the Demon of Fire. At least he and his kinsmen saw or heard something new of him every day, not three, perhaps four thousand seasons past. Why, the legends proclaimed that the Demon himself had frightened the Immortals and Dragons into hiding! So how powerful could they really be?

Och, he was wasting his time with the giant and his mate. Why his master wanted the chit, he could not see. So she was of lineage to the God of Heaven; what good would that be unless…? He glanced in the direction they’d gone and wondered. Her powers had to come from somewhere. Was it worth the risk of death to steal another taste of her royal blood? Perchance it might come in handy if the Demon of Fire turned on him.

As others in the alliance entered the corridor, Elghar leaned back, hiding himself within the darkened clay wall. All trudged by as if nothing was amiss. Only the blonde sniffed this way and that. Her probing gaze swept the walls, but apparently missed him in the shadows. He exhaled as she passed him and kept on walking. Now where was her mate, he wondered? He scratched his forehead with his dark claws and sheathed them once more within his furry fingers. His palm itched to have something of value to present to his master. If not the giant’s mate, then perhaps the blonde dragon’s horn?

Slowly, he separated himself from the cold, damp wall and slipped quietly through the corridors. Last night, the woodsman and his wife had slept together in a separate chamber. But was it left or right, he asked himself as he faced two separate corridors. To the left, he decided. He could always backtrack and try the other direction if this one proved unfruitful.

Within minutes, he was lost and aggravated to the core. He passed the same torch in the wall and he was certain the footprints in front of him were his own. He could smell nothing beyond his own stench. Damn the blasted creatures who had disturbed his peaceful life! He hopped and pounded the mud without regard to noise. He should be dining on the fruit of the yatke bush or the leaves of the smaller antzen seedlings, not wandering these miserable caves.

Are you through playing your little games, elf?

Elghar shuddered. He knew that voice; his master’s reach was farther than he’d thought. Yes, sir, he answered.

Then be on your way! I want the girl and the horns of the dragons. Now! There was a moment, a brief second of silence, which provided Elghar an opportunity to shake off the feeling that his every movement was being watched. It was snatched away with his next breath. And give my loving regards to Shu’Lan, the master growled. The elf jumped with fright. Make her death as painful as possible. >

Elghar walked over and leaned against the wall for support. He could hear the echo of the Demon’s evil laugh in his mind. What had he gotten himself in to? A minute later, he pulled himself out of his dark fears and trudged the corridor again. Go right this time, he decided and was grateful not to see his own footprints there in the mud. He had gone no more than fifty stones before reaching the next intersection. He peered cautiously, certain he’d just seen movement in the path to the left. Sinking into the shadows, he crept along the wall, his ears twitching to capture every nuance of noise.

He tasted the odor of the woodsman and heard the rustle of activity within the next cave. Ahh, this could be helpful. As Elghar approached the entrance, he froze. Pretog lifted his nose and sniffed loudly. Had the immortal sensed his presence? Elghar shifted deeper in the clay wall, inching forward in painful increments. The clay would absorb his odor and if he learned or saw anything of significance, it would be worth the price of having the disgusting clumps of red and brown buried in his fur.

He watched as Pretog continued to sniff, then probe every shadow in the room.

Fool, the immortal said to himself. Think you see all manner of evil, yet see you nothing but darkened corners. Pretog shook his head and turned away.

Elghar crept forward. His breath caught in his throat as he saw his master’s trophy. The horn of the furry dragon glowed in Pretog’s hand. Ahh, Master, you would be pleased, he thought. He watched in shock as Pretog bent his head forward and clay splattered this way and that. Why, the immortal was digging a hole! By what means, Elghar wondered. Then he realized the woodsman had powers of his own-he was willing the hole to be dug.

The woodsman gently placed the horn inside the new hole and bent his head forward once more. This time the dirt closed inward. Once finished, it was as if the earth had never been touched. If Elghar shifted his eyes from the location, he was certain he would never be able to tell where the immortal had dug. He kept his gaze on the hiding place of the horn; he’d stand there all day if need be until the ugly beast left.

As Pretog looked about, apparently satisfied with his accomplishments, Elghar let a tiny bit of the breath he’d been holding siphon through his gnashed teeth. Now go, he ordered silently. When Pretog cleared the entrance to the door and the elf heard the woodsman’s scuffling down the corridor, he exhaled and nearly groaned at the pressure in his chest. But he never let his gaze wander from where Pretog had buried the treasure his master sought.

Satisfied that he was alone, Elghar walked straight to the spot. He couldn’t steal the horn now. It would be too obvious and what if the dragon or her mate felt its loss too soon? He poked two claws at the top of the hole. There. He could find it when the time was right. Now, he needed to create a diversion….

*

The fire sparked and crackled in its circle of hearthstones. It cast flickering shadows onto the cavern walls and made the trickle of water shine darkly red, as if blood seeped from the rock. Wrelan wished she was as oblivious to their surroundings as Shu’Ni. Her sister watched over the children, crooning softly whenever one of them whimpered or stirred. She looked serene-almost happy-as if she had fallen in love with her small charges. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a burden for her, having a little sister to look after when Mama deserted them. People are never quite the way we believe them to be, Wrelan thought.

Niall paced silently, deep in thought. After a while, he came to a halt beside her. We canna stay here too long, he said. When the witch finds we’ve taken the bairns, she’ll stop at naught to find us.

Can we travel through the caves? she asked.

He had told her that a canny soul could walk for days underground, surfacing only briefly to cross a valley or glen. He knew the hidden ways as well as he knew how to breathe, and he seemed able to see in the dark, like a cat.

We could, but it’s far out of our way. And when we came into the open there would be the loch to cross. We canna be sure of finding a boat, and it’s a long walk around the water. Without food for the bairns I dinna know how we’d manage. I could hunt for game, but…. He sighed, shaking his head. No, my lassie. As soon as it’s dark, we must go back past the camp.

Wrelan was dismayed; he didn’t have to tell her how dangerous it would be. But if Niall thought it the best way, she would trust him.

I’m away now to see if Skena has returned, though I hope she’ll be gone a wee while longer. And I’ll try to find some food while I’m about it.

She wrapped him in her arms. Be careful and come back safely. She kissed his lips lightly then let him go with a smile. If she was to be a warrior’s wife, now was the time to learn not to fuss when he went into danger-even if each occasion she wished him a safe return might be the last.

Niall was gone for a long time. The children still slept and Shu’Ni dozed, her arms around the little boy she’d carried from Skena’s tent. Wrelan explored the cavern, trying not to fret. She found several side passages, but all were too dark to explore for any distance. There were a few old, dried pieces of wood lying about, and she used them to replenish the fire. She was drowsing over its warmth when the sound of furtive footsteps brought her to her feet. But it was only Niall returning. He carried a brace of plump birds and a hare, and he had a length of cloth twisted around his shoulders.

He prepared his catch and cut it into portions to fix on pointed sticks for roasting over the fire. Mouth-watering scents soon filled the cavern and the children woke up, clamoring for food. Whatever had held them tongue-tied seemed to have been dissipated by sleep and Shu’Ni’s singing. They clustered round her, clinging to her tunic as if she represented safety and love.

Linsey, Niall called. Come away, and help me with your dinner.

The oldest girl, a little slip of a thing about ten summers old, came sheepishly out from behind Shu’Ni’s skirt. Are ye going to take us home, Cousin Niall?

Aye. And we’ll need your help wi’ the young ‘uns. Come over here and meet Wrelan, my promised bride.

Och, will ye be having a grand wedding? Linsey’s eyes sparkled as she bobbed a curtsy. Can I be one of your maidies, Mistress Ree-larrn? She tugged Wrelan’s sleeve and whispered. Who is yon pretty lady that sings like a laverock?

Niall gave Linsey a playful buffet. Och, ye’ve more questions than a body can think on. That is Shu’Ni, Wrelan’s sister. And ye can be a maidie at our wedding if ye mind your manners. Now, help us get the young ones settled. We dinna have time for such chatter.

Wrelan and Shu’Ni brought some of the pine boughs close to the fire for the children to sit on, while Linsey passed pieces of hot roast meat to each, blowing on scorched fingers and chattering as she did so.

This is my sister, Gaira. She’ll be seven years old at lambing time. And here is my cousin Kennis. She’s eight. And my cousin Barday, he’s five. And this is his brother Cullan, but he’s just a baby. I’m nearly ten, so I’m the eldest, and I’ll help ye with the bairns.

While the children ate, Niall drew Wrelan and Shu’Ni aside. Skena hasna returned to camp and those left behind are the dregs of her army. We’ll have a good chance of getting by them unseen. We could be in Glen McConall before the night is past, if our luck holds true.

It will be a hard walk for the children, Shu’Ni said. From what Wrelan told me, your home is many strides from here.

Aye, it is, Niall said. But they’re Highland born and can do it. We’ll take turns carrying Cullan and Barday, and we’ll help the others too, when they become weary.

When do we leave? Wrelan asked.

In a wee while. We must wait till dusk. The sun willna set for an hour yet. He picked up the length of cloth he’d brought with him. It was good of ye to wrap the bairns in your cloaks, but we must fashion clothing for them that doesna impede their walking. Do ye think ye can make something of this?

Shu’Ni took the cloth. Wrelan noted it was none too clean, but the undyed wool was quite soft and warm. I’ll cut it into lengths with the knife and we can weave belts out of those dried grasses on the pallet. Sister, will you help?

I’ll weave the belts, Wrelan said, and began to pluck lengths of grass from the bedding.

They worked quietly, listening to the children. Apart from Linsey, who chattered like a magpie, they said little, but at least they were talking among themselves. After a while, Niall went over to them and sat on his heels close by. He told them of the journey to come, which would take them home, and he rose with an air of purpose.

I’m thinking it’s time we were off, he said. I’ll just take a wee peek outside and make sure the camp’s still quiet.

Shu’Ni and Wrelan took their cloaks from Barday and Gaira, and dressed the two in the rough tunics they’d fashioned. The children looked like urchins, but they would be warm and able to move freely. Wrelan put on her cloak and looked around the cavern. When Niall scattered the fire, there would be little trace that they’d been here. She was relieved to hear the light scuffling that heralded his return. The sooner they were away from the witch’s vicinity, the better. She turned to greet him. One look at his face told her that something was terribly wrong.

The witch is back, Niall whispered. And there’s a party of warriors starting toward this hill.

Then we must hurry and leave through the caverns, Wrelan said.

He shook his head. They’d catch up with us certain sure. We canna travel fast enough to outrun them, not with the bairns to carry.

What can we do? Shu’Ni said. Could one of us stay behind and keep the warriors at bay while you get the children to safety?

I could stun them with my smoke, Wrelan said.

There’s too many of them. Niall stared up toward the dark ceiling of the cavern. Och, if only we could climb up there. There’s a way I learned as a boy, but the rock has crumbled since. There are no footholds left.

I can use my gift to go up, Shu’Ni said. But how will that help you?

Niall seized her face between his big hands and kissed her forehead heartily. Och, I couldna ask for a better sister. Take my plaid with ye. Make it fast to the solidest rock ye can find and I’ll climb up to join ye.

Will the plaid be long enough? Wrelan asked.

Niall laughed. Oh aye. It’s twenty times the length of your arm, and maybe a bit more besides. It has need to be, to go around a big man such as myself.

He unwrapped the long garment from about himself and stood naked in the firelight. He bound his leather belt low on his hips, and with the jeweled knife stuck through it, he had the look of a warrior God. Wrelan stared at him. When she glanced at Shu’Ni, she saw her sister was equally entranced. Niall’s body was all muscle, from his strong calves and thighs to his big shoulders. His torso gleamed like pale stone in contrast to his weathered arms, legs and neck. The bruises and scars of his battle against the warriors only added to his warlike appearance. He pretended not to notice their interested gaze, but Wrelan saw his face darken in a blush. He handed the great bundle of plaid to Shu’Ni.

Up ye go, lassie, he said. Mind ye tie it tight. I wouldna want to tumble down and maybe squash your sister.

Shu’Ni vanished. A few heartbeats later, the plaid snaked down from above. Niall grasped it and began to climb, his muscles bunching with the effort. The children stared up as he went. Wrelan took off her cloak and fashioned it into a sling to carry the children, and when Niall called out softly, she tied it to the end of the plaid. With Linsey’s help, she nestled little Cullan in the cloak. She was afraid he would be frightened and cry out, but he crinkled up his eyes and chuckled. To him, it was a fine adventure.

Hold tight, like a good boy, she said. She watched anxiously as the precious bundle swayed into the air.

It seemed to take forever to get all the children transported, and Wrelan strained her ears, expecting every second to hear the hoarse baying of hounds or the cries of warriors as they found the entrance to the cave. But at last, she stood alone. She scattered the fire and groped through the dark to where she thought the dangling plaid must be. But she couldn’t locate it. She pawed helplessly at empty air and felt panic rising in her throat.

What if she was left behind and taken by the warriors? She would be tortured and perhaps she’d die in horrible agony as Niall’s kin had done. Her heart began to thump as if it would leap out of her chest, and she struggled to breathe deeply and calm herself. Then she saw the faintest wisp of light filtering down from above. She surmised that it was coming from the escape route and she made her way toward it. At last her waving hands met cloth. She gave a sigh of relief and began to haul herself up. Niall pulled from above and she rose like a bird.

Shu’Ni was waiting to help her onto a ledge, where she and Niall and the children were huddled. There was scarcely room for all of them and Wrelan dreaded lest anyone should fall.

They were at the bottom of a long, narrow chimney of rock sloping up almost vertically toward a patch of light that filtered down in faint, dusty grayness. Niall bundled his plaid around his hips, then braced his back against one side of the chimney and his feet against the other.

Once I get up, I’ll lower the plaid for ye, he said.

Wrelan winced at the thought of what the rough rock would do to his back, but he began working his way up and soon disappeared over the lip at the top. The end of the plaid came down, and again, one by one, the children were whisked up. This time, Shu’Ni climbed with the aid of the plaid rather than use her gift, and Wrelan followed. Deep in back of her mind was a nagging worry about her sister. It took a huge amount of energy for Shu’Ni to transport herself instantly from one place to another and the effort left her weak and drained. There were limitations on how often she could do it without a long rest in between times, and she’d already given selflessly to save first Niall, and then the whole party. She could just as easily have transported herself to safety, leaving the rest to struggle on as best they could.

Niall had been more accurate than he realized when he’d said Shu’Ni was a sister to value. No wonder Papa loved her.

And I love her, too, Wrelan thought. She felt a moment of pure joy. In all the fear and sorrow she’d been through of late were seeds of good. She had a sister whom she loved and who, she was sure, loved her in return.

When they got home, things would be different with Papa, too. Perhaps Mama hadn’t gone back to the Demon, and the dream of a happy, united family would come true. Then her hands grazed the sharp rock at the lip of the chimney, bringing her painfully back to the present, where danger lurked at every turn.

She climbed out into a world of dim light, with the first moon’s fiery crescent sailing over the horizon and a million stars twinkling into view. The air was cold and crisp, sweet after the damp fustiness of the cavern. She stood almost at the crest of a hill with a scramble of rock rising behind her and a stunning vista in front. A faint path marked a long, steep slope down to a ridge that ran for several miles before it rose toward another hill, black and far-off against the clear sky. To the right and left were more hills in seemingly endless ranks. The whole visible landscape was a stretch of pale light and deepest shadow, an alien place of unreal beauty. To travel across it must be like walking on one of the moons.

She helped Niall to arrange the great plaid around his chest and hips, while Shu’Ni and the children stood waiting patiently. When he was clothed, he spoke to them as if they were a band of warriors.

McConalls, you must follow me close and be quiet as mice. And if I tell ye to do something, you must do it at once and without question. Do ye understand me?

Small heads nodded, and there was a faint chorus of, Aye, cousin Niall.

Then we’ll be off. Shu’Ni and Wrelan will help when you get tired. He pulled the jeweled dagger from his belt and raised it high. In a low voice, he gave the battle cry of his Clan. Come away, the McConalls!

Come away, the McConalls! the children echoed, their voices sweet and clear.

Wrelan felt her heart swell with pride in them all. They were so brave. Not one had cried and they’d done all that was asked without a word of complaint.

Niall thrust the dagger back into his belt and set off along the path at a steady pace, with little Cullan perched on his shoulder. The rest of the children walked behind them in a line, all seeming surefooted and unafraid. Shu’Ni followed and Wrelan came last, glancing over her shoulder at the dark mouth of the chimney they’d escaped through. There was no sign of Skena’s warriors. The night was silent, save for the scrunch and slither of the treacherous scree under their feet, and now and then the low whrooo-hooo of an owl. After a few false steps, she learned how to tread on the loose stones without sliding. Before long she fell into an easy stride that she could keep up for hours if need be. When Barday stumbled, she picked him up and tucked him under her cloak to carry him on her back with his little head lying against her neck. Shu’Ni carried Gaira over the rough places, while Linsey and Kennis helped each other, murmuring softly as they went.

The moon was high when they got to the bottom of the slope and started across the ridge. Barday had fallen sleep, his breath soft and warm on Wrelan’s skin. She found it exhilarating to stride across the ridge, seemingly suspended high up between the hills in the eerie bath of blue light. There was a steep drop on either side, but that only added a pungent spice of danger, and she reveled in it. All her senses were sharp and alert as she drank in the wild beauty that surrounded them. Far ahead, she could see a thread of water falling from on high, the sound of it as yet only a faint shushing.

A shadow slid across the sky and she looked up, suddenly filled with foreboding. The evil bird that was Skena’s eyes hung above them, a long, narrow smudge of smoke with eyes like blue flames staring down malevolently.

Gods preserve us, she whispered.

She didn’t want to alarm the children, so she made her way forward quietly to warn first Shu’Ni and then Niall that they’d been spotted.

Is there somewhere we can hide? she asked.

Niall shook his head. Not until near the top of yon hill. We’ll have to hurry. The witch will have warriors after us in no time.

Shu’Ni was trying to carry Gaira, and Niall held out his arms. Let me take her. She’s too heavy for ye.

Then give Cullan to me, Shu’Ni said. I carried him before and he’s light as a leaf.

Niall set off again, striding swiftly with Linsey and Kennis behind him, clinging to his plaid to help them keep their footing. Wrelan ran after with Barday bumping on her back, awake now and holding tight around her neck. Shu’Ni, with Cullan on her shoulder, slipped and stumbled as she tried to keep up. The path began to slope uphill and the going was rough. They were forced to stop before long to catch their breath. After that, Niall’s pace was a little slower.

The sound of water grew louder as they advanced, until it was a roar that beat on the air. When they reached the falls, they found a great gush of water that shot from the rocks far above. The torrent plunged down into a turbulent stream that cut the path in two, before tumbling into a deep chasm to race away between huge boulders. Jagged chunks of timber stuck out from between the rocks, and Niall eyed them with dismay.

Och, the bridge is gone, he cried. The stream has flooded and destroyed it. I dinna know how we’ll get across.

The children clustered round them, clinging to the adults. For the first time since they’d begun the long walk, they looked woebegone and ready to cry.

The water was too wide for even Niall to leap over and looked too fierce and deep to wade through. Wrelan stared around, desperately searching for another way to cross, but it seemed impossible. Wet with spray, she racked her brain for a solution to their plight, but none suggested itself. And then she heard another sound, distant, but distinct even over the roar of the falls.

It was the baying of hounds.

CHAPTER TWENTY

>

I owe you an apology, Xlana said as she slipped close to Shu’Lan. Come and walk with me for a moment?

You owe me nothing, Shu’Lan replied, but I will walk with you.

What I accused you of was unforgivable.

You accused me of nothing but the truth. Warmth shone from within the eyes of the immortal, and Xlana felt worse than before.

The facts of what happened were never in question, Xlana said honestly. But I should have known better than the others that there are reasons for everything. She paused, inhaling to prepare herself for what was to come. The words came out with a rush as she exhaled. I was so tempted to leave all that I love behind and bow to a new master. His power was overwhelming and the visions….

Aye, the visions, Shu’Lan whispered.

Is it worse when you’ve tasted—

Much worse, the older immortal answered immediately.

Xlana felt the woman’s pain and wondered how she bore it. Yet you push it aside?

Do you ask as Xlana the warrior, or as Xlana the woman?

Both, I suppose, but I would have to say the woman in me wonders the most.

This is a new side of you, Heaven’s Immortal. I confess I find you most intriguing.

Xlana shifted on the balls of her feet. She wondered what had passed between them. The words to ask nearly slipped off her tongue.

You do not remember, and I find myself reluctant to tell you. Shu’Lan shook her head and strands of her glorious aqua hair slipped forward and covered her small bosom. Let me say that we were at great odds when last we met. You were different-tough and confident of your dragon’s love-ready to tear the limbs off anyone who threatened your new family.

In short, I judged you then, too, Xlana surmised.

Aye, you judged, Shu’Lan said grimly. The truth you spoke, crisply slicing me, demanding that I live up to my vows. Xlana heard the mournful sigh that escaped the woman’s lips. I would have, too, but for my own cowardice.

Cowardice or seduction?

I hear it again, the forgiveness in your voice. Her gaze narrowed on Xlana. Faustio said you have faced my former master. I would not have believed it until now. You obviously fared better than I did.

Truth be told, I do not know. I was so close…. Had it not been for Dykstra and Pretog’s help, I can’t say I would have done anything different than you did. This is what hurts. My confidence is not as great as Rynak’s and perchance, I turned my own insecurity into a battering ram against you.

We are alike, Shu’Lan said. Each struggling to show the rest of the world our power, yet wondering all the while whether it really exists.

Yes, Xlana murmured. We are alike. Now. I cannot answer for the past, ‘tis a blur I cannot see inside.

You do not need to, my sister. What is important, as our husbands say and I agree, is the present and the future. We must leave all else aside and concentrate on it, beating the Demon of Fire for the sake of our children.

Then what say we meet the others and form a plan? Xlana asked, offering her hand in friendship. If they were to win this war, they had to act as one. For the first time since Shu’Lan’s appearance, Xlana felt as if she could trust Faustio’s mate. Perchance those things gone before were merely the stepping stones to reach this point?

She noticed when she walked into the room with Shu’Lan, many eyebrows lifted in curiosity-perchance even amazement. Those who had seen Shu’Lan first were suddenly giving her a second look and appeared to wonder if they’d been wrong in their own assumptions.

Czerick, his sphere of light crackling and sending a rainbow of colors shimmering against the walls, was quiet. Too quiet, Xlana thought. She wondered what he thought of the recent events.

Red Falcon sat alone, his shoulders slumped and his eyes dark. She knew he still mourned Shu’Ni. Pain emanated from him like an aura. Faustio stood up, took Shu’Lan’s hand, and parked himself on the ground with his wife on his lap and a hand on Red Falcon’s shoulder. For a moment, the blacksmith looked as if he took strength from Faustio’s touch. Had Red made his feelings about Shu’Ni known and the men come to their own understanding? Faustio’s ruby ring twinkled from Red Falcon’s hand. She gasped. It could only be there if Faustio himself had deemed it so. What other surprises lay in store while this war raged?

Xlana stole a glance at Pretog and Dykstra and gasped again. The green lines on Pretog’s forehead were somehow softer, lighter in color and less pronounced. The couple seemed as one; where one’s gaze went, so did the other’s. They were mated, fine and true! At the same time that Xlana found delight in knowing another of the Gods’ wishes was complete, a prickling sense of unease flowed down her spine. Three mated pairs to face the Demon of Fire. With Shu’Lan in the mix, the Gods’ plans were fulfilled. The war would begin in earnest.

She sent a panicked look toward Rynak. Had he realized the significance of the latest events? His calm, even expression would indicate he knew. She nearly slapped her own face in disgust. Of course he knew! He’d been one step ahead of her since the beginning. Now what, my love? she asked as she slipped on to his lap. We wait?

He didn’t answer. The next voice she heard was that of Dykstra-a call to arms.

*

The animals are loose, Dykstra cried. She and Pretog were on their feet at once, both leading the way toward the villagers’ quarters. She tried desperately to cover her ears and block out the screams of the mortals. In her mind, she saw the terrifying claws of the lions as they ripped through skin and clothing alike. A dull pain filled her heart as she watched one villager die, a giant two-tusk having run him through, pinning the dead man to the wall.

Rynak and Faustio had already transformed to their dragon shapes. If there was any way of stopping this stampede, she needed to do the same. Quickly discarding her clothes, she willed her body to change, and it did. Shaking her swirling lavender and white fur about her, she was ready. Now she could only pray that size would prove to her benefit and that the spears and arrows of those who came to their aid would fly straight and true.

Red Falcon and several of his ‘troop’ ran as fast as everyone else. She could see the gleam of readiness in Red’s sword as he waved it in the air.

Pretog sent his thoughts to her. Protect yourself, my love.

>

As should you, she replied.

Adrenaline raced through her veins, her heart pounded too hard for her to hear more. She had seen firsthand the beasts they had locked away separately. How could they have broken free? The knots used by Faustio were too intricate for the average man and she found it hard to believe that any of the villagers would be foolish enough to tempt fate. But someone or something had.

Arriving at the scene, Dykstra’s fears grew. Two-tusks were piercing their way through crowds. The villagers scattered, screaming and foolishly hiding themselves against a wall, thinking they would be safe. Rynak and Faustio bellowed, shaking the earth around them. Everything stopped. A second of silence reigned, as if the animals themselves had to pause and decide whether to submit or fight. Then, just as quickly as everything had stopped, things began anew.

Dykstra planted herself in front of a lion preparing to leap on a helpless victim. She roared. The lion blinked, looked from her to his intended dinner, then backed away. She felt an all too brief sensation of power. Too late, she recognized she’d placed herself on the other end of an attack. Two elderbeasts and a black bear charged at her backside. Turning, she saw that the bear was undecided, his claws unsheathed, and he stood as if he was trying to decide whether he wanted a piece of an elderbeast or her. She shivered and clamped her mouth down on the elderbeast who was intent on ramming into her leg. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Och, the taste of death! Immediately, she spit him and his lifeblood out, and the creature fell to the ground. She was horrified; she had taken a life!

The black bear gave a mighty roar as it leapt upon the back of the second elderbeast. Streaks of red flowed like a river from the long wooden-horned beast. It shrieked in pain and writhed in agony as it fought to shake the bear from its flanks. The bear was the victor, until a spear from Pretog caught him in the neck.

Dykstra sent him a message of thanks and caught a glimpse of one of the villagers behind her mate, his spear at ready. Drop! she commanded, and gave a sigh of relief as Pretog did as she said. The deadly weapon was already in flight. Pretog would be safe…but the spear was directed right at her now. What should she do? If she moved, she may not be fast enough. Or there could be some innocent behind her who would take the blow.

Her heart pounded as the spear, as if in slow motion, crept closer…closer. The ground beneath her felt cold to her paws. That was odd. As a dragon, she was impervious to hot or cold. Seconds later, she lay on the ground, watching the spear float above her face. What had happened? She glanced down and realized she was in her immortal form. How? When?

The next things she saw were the bloodied fangs of a lion much too close to her throat for comfort. She willed her body to change back to dragon form. Nothing. She tried again as the lion sniffed her, apparently trying to decide where to strike. Nothing. Do not scream, she reminded herself. If this is the end, then die with dignity. She couldn’t move. Instinct told her to act as if she was dead and perchance the beast would think she was already dead and move on to another victim.

Red Falcon instantly appeared beside her. His sword dropped a small stone’s distance from her face, and she glanced over her shoulder to see the light flicker out in the lion’s eyes, his head drop to the ground, his mouth set in a perpetual growl. Red helped her up and threw his cloak over her, passing her off to Pretog.

By the God of Earth, I swear to help that man reunite with Shu’Ni, she whispered hoarsely against Pretog’s neck. Thank you, my love, for staying alive.

The pleasure be mine, he answered, then smothered her face with kisses. He came up for air, his breath hard and the vein in his neck swelled with rapid flutters. Appears most of the trouble is over. Was a stroke of genius to change form and drop as ye did.

Dykstra shivered. I didna do it apurpose. She focused her efforts on regaining her dragon form. Nothing happened; she was still held safely in Pretog’s arms. Step back, she said, and tried again. A low mournful cry slipped between her teeth and she fell to her knees. I canna do it. I canna take dragon form, she wailed. Why?

A tiny vision popped in her mind. Elghar carrying two woolen bags. The elf! she cried. He has my horn!

Nay, love, hid it I did.

She saw his brilliant smile, so pleased with himself he was. But she felt his dip in confidence as she transferred the vision to him.

How? he yelled at the top of his lungs. Found it he did. My love, what have I done?

Rynak walked over and pulled them close to his chest. Absently, Dykstra registered that he was back in immortal form and dressed. What is the problem, Dykstra? he asked.

The noises of bloodshed lessened as Faustio bellowed. All that was left behind was carnage and pitiful cries for help. She should be doing something…anything to help the villagers with their suffering, but here she was mourning her own loss.

My horn. Her voice wobbled and bobbed worse than a pebble on a downward slope. The dark elf has stolen it and carries it to the Demon.

And you blame yourself, my brother? he asked Pretog, whose head hung in shame.

Aye. Know you that I hid it for safekeeping. But safe it is not. Felt I a presence in the room as I dug my hole, but dismissed it I did as the stench of the caverns.

Rynak nodded solemnly. Easily enough done. His gaze fell on Dykstra and her heart pattered as he wiped away a tear. So you cannot transform to dragon, I take it.

Dykstra shook her head as another tear threatened to break free. He hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head.

We shall have to protect you then.

She glanced up at him. It was that simple for him? We shall have to protect you. How was she to pull her own weight in this war? What value did she have to offer the rest of the alliance if she couldna transform? Were her powers still intact? His calm demeanor had to be a false front. Surely he didna believe everything would be right as earth? Och, the laddie dragon sought to reassure her, but ‘twas a fool’s task. She knew better. Dragons were the strong ones in this war.

‘Tis not the height and strength of a dragon that matters, my sister. ‘Tis the hearts and souls of both dragons and immortals united that will prevail.

Do not do that again, Rynak, she warned. I prefer to hear a request before I share my thoughts.

My apologies, he said with a nod. But your doubts were written in your eyes. ‘Twas easy for me to discern you were listening to the foolish words of someone in your past. She blinked. Being a dragon unable to take shape takes as much courage as being tall and mighty against an unseen enemy, he said.

But if—

He put his finger to her lips. This war is won or lost within the blink of an eye. Your horn is with the dark elf. It is a setback, but there are worse things to concern ourselves with. We can try to find him and lose precious minutes, or we can concentrate on helping those who need it, and try to learn what other things he has done or set in place to happen.

Dykstra looked over at Pretog. He appeared in agreement with Rynak. She could see no lessening of the love in his eyes, just a simple gratitude that she lived and an eagerness to set what he could to right. Very well, she agreed. There is much to be done and ‘tis not likely the elf acted alone.

Together, the three joined the others and helped the victims to sickbeds for treatment.

*

Where is Czerick? Rynak demanded when he saw Xlana directing the ladies to and fro.

By the Gods, you startled me, husband! Her mind was jumping from patient to patient and she had not sensed his presence before he burst on the scene. I don’t know where Czerick is. I was hoping he was working with Faustio in getting the animals contained.

I did not see him there.

I have no time to spare to find him. Search for him if you must, but these wounds must be treated. You could be very useful here if you chose to, she said. If you were to discern the extent of the injuries, I can continue to lead the ladies in their duties.

Rynak agreed and went to work immediately. Pretog carried in another victim and laid him in a freshly made bed. Xlana sighed, then saw Dykstra trying to carry a child and rushed to her aid. The boy was not very old, but he was in that spurt of life where his limbs were awkward and a burden to the Earth Dragon now that she remained in mortal form. Between the two, they managed to get the youth to a fresh bed. Xlana did not wait for Rynak; she dug deeply into the boy’s soul and saw that his wounds were treatable with herbs and several poultices. He was one of the luckier ones.

Remove his clothes, she ordered Lidia. Rinse him as best you can, then stitch him up and apply a Goldenseal poultice for swelling. She had fallen into a routine with Lidia whereby the woman was always assigned to the care of children. The hardworking woman appeared to have a way with them and a love that overflowed like a pitcher of pure water. What a mother she would make if this war ever ended, Xlana thought.

That one, Xlana said, pointing out a frail, elderly man to another of her helpers. Take some of this, she handed the girl a fingerful of calendula, and go to the bench to make a salve. Use a clean bowl and churning stick. She looked at the girl and noticed she seemed preoccupied with one of the men carrying in more wounded. Never mind. Be gone with you. If I can’t trust you to do it right, I’d rather you be elsewhere. Xlana called another woman over and assigned her the task, feeling safer with this helper than the last. And give him a touch of wort to help him breathe more comfortably.

She glanced around and sighed. Her girls were laboring hard and the line of victims carried in seemed endless. Where the devil was Czerick?

Xlana, I must have you here. Now, Rynak yelled.

For the first time since she’d known him, he sounded frantic. She rushed to his side, then nearly swooned at the sight before her. So much blood!

We cannot save the mother. Her lifeline is too weak. But the babe….

Aye, the babe we can help, she answered, her palm lying atop the woman’s swollen belly. She had seen Czerick pull babes from the womb before, but she’d never done it herself. She panicked. Czerick! she yelled. By the Gods, Rynak, I do not know how deep to cut without hurting the child. I need Czerick to guide me.

We have no time to squander, Rynak said. We will work together and feel our way through this. He lifted her chin and kissed her hard. We can do this. We must.

Aye, we must. Xlana yelled for a knife doused in holy water. Once she had the knife, she placed one shaky hand on the woman’s belly while she felt her way through the mother’s soul, slicing lightly until she sensed the membrane of the womb. Carefully, she and Rynak lifted back skin to reveal the tiny mortal hidden safely beneath her mother’s heart. We’re losing the mother. Oh, Rynak, we cannot lose the child, too.

We won’t, he reassured her. I can reinforce her lifeline, but you must hurry and get the wee one out.

In a sidelong glance, she noticed he was sweating as badly as she was and his hands shook as if he was seized with fever. She delicately cut the remaining tissue and pulled the child to her arms, then tied and cut the umbilical cord. With a bittersweet smile, she held the child to the mother’s cheek and willed the dying woman to see or at least feel the babe as it squalled beside her. Tears ran down Xlana’s face at the sweet tug of a smile on the mother’s face.

She’s gone, Xlana. But you gave her something precious to carry with her to the next life.

Aye. She wears a smile of peace, Xlana whispered. But you, she said looking down at the squealing infant, are not at peace at all, are you? She stood with the child and yelled out, Is this woman’s husband or family alive?

Aye, an older helper answered. Her family was lost in the fires, but her husband lies there, she said, pointing to a mid-seasoned man.

Xlana walked over with Rynak and asked him to check the villager’s health.

Too late, my love, he said. He has passed over as well.

She looked down at the child, her maternal emotions running wild. I freed you to life only to have you suffer a lineage of death, she mourned. Now what can I offer you? The tiny newborn kicked her feet and shook her arms as she squealed again. You have spirit, little one.

Rynak nudged Xlana. She turned toward him and noticed he was pointing at Lidia, whose eyes were misted over with a longing so deep Xlana could feel it across the room.

Lidia, she said. Come, please, to claim your bonnie lass. She’ll need strength of spirit and the love of good mama.

Several gasps were heard around the room, but when Lidia gently wiped the sweet child down and wrapped her in a blanket, the child went quiet. And smiled. There be no ‘jection? she asked the others.

No one spoke a word. They did not dare. Lidia whispered a thank you to Xlana and Rynak and went in search of goat’s milk to nurse the child. Once again, the cavern was bustling. Xlana wrapped a clean sheet around herself and proceeded to take over again, directing the men to remove the dead bodies and sending the ladies forth with medicines for the others.

*

Niall eyed the swollen stream thoughtfully. I’ll try to wade across, but it would need a rope to get the rest of ye over, or ye’d all be swept away. I canna use the plaid. The weight of water in it would drag us down.

Can you not cut a strip from it and use that? Wrelan said.

He looked at her ruefully, but his eyes twinkled. Och, ye’d have me ruin me plaid, would ye? Ye’ve never respected it, and a terrible wife ye’ll be.

But he undressed and cut a narrow strip from the length of his garment with the jeweled knife. He handed the knife and his belt to Wrelan, then he bundled up the remainder of his plaid and tossed it across the stream. Now I have to get over. He grinned broadly. I canna go on naked, with ye ogling lassies at me heels.

Ye shouldna go naked at all in this cold, cousin Niall, Linsey piped up. Ye’ll catch yer death and me Auntie Morag will not be pleased with ye.

Wrelan and Shu’Ni exchanged glances and giggled in spite of themselves. The children joined in, laughing merrily at Niall’s discomfort.

He gave Linsey a playful cuff and made a mock-threatening lunge toward the rest. Och, ye ungrateful lot. Just wait till I get ye home, then I’ll make ye all sorry.

He was laughing as he tied the woolen strip around his waist. Wrelan thought, not for the first time, that he reveled in danger, and would laugh in the face of the Demon himself, were they to meet.

Both of ye hold tight to this. He handed the loose end of the plaid strip to Wrelan and Shu’Ni. Once I’m over, I’ll make the other end fast to a boulder, then I’ll come back and help ye all across.

He slid into the water and sank to chest depth as it swept him sideways. Wrelan and Shu’Ni threw all their weight on the strip of cloth, but they fell backward as the force of the current split it in two, leaving a ragged end dangling in their hands. Niall slipped and his head disappeared beneath the surface. He came up spluttering and gasping for breath before he was plunged under again. The current carried him downstream, where wicked fangs of boulders gleamed through a snarl of white water. The little party on the bank stared in horror and Wrelan hid her eyes. He would surely be dashed against the rocks and killed.

See! Shu’Ni cried. He is safe for the moment.

Wrelan peered between her fingers. Niall had pulled himself onto a boulder in midstream, shivering and panting. He was alive! But there was no way he could reach either bank without getting back into the water. Then he’d surely be battered unconscious and drowned. They were worse off now than before, without one fighting man to face their pursuers. And all the time, Skena’s army drew closer.

Wrelan looked back along the ridge. Distant figures traveled rapidly toward them. Moonlight glinted on the warriors’ mail and the red eyes of the dogs. Overhead, the evil bird cried harshly, sounding triumphant. She felt a surge of hatred for Skena and all things evil. She shut her eyes and concentrated with all her will on finding a way to thwart the witch. The hounds’ yelping carried on the breeze, and a picture formed in her mind’s eye.

Barking dogs pulled a sled through a white waste of snow with Faustio in his Immortal form guiding them. A group of warriors raced after the sled, forcing their quarry toward a mist-filled chasm. For a moment, the dogs checked, and Faustio pointed toward the mist. It swirled and coagulated then settled into a rainbow-colored arc-an ice bridge across the rift. The dogs bounded forward, the sled skidding and bouncing behind them. They reached the far side and Faustio turned. A stream of silver fire shot from his outstretched hands, and the ice exploded into glittering splinters, sending two warriors howling into the chasm….

Ice, Wrelan murmured. Her voice rose to a shout. The ice bridge! We must freeze the surface of the stream.

Shu’Ni gazed at her. Papa and the Norse warriors, she said. But, sister, that was just a tale he made up to amuse two little girls at bedtime.

Yes, but Papa always told us stories based on truth. He could have made the rainbow bridge. He has the power to alter water’s state, and we are his daughters. Wrelan seized her sister’s hand. Help me, Shu’Ni. Blend your thoughts with mine.

She raised their joined hands over the water and pictured the stream gripped by frost, with great fans and spears of ice forming on the water. She felt sweat on her forehead and her vision dimmed. The world spun and reeled, but she forced the picture in her mind to remain constant. The ice-shards grew and spread, until they covered the stream from bank to bank in a gleaming sheet.

Och, would ye look at yon water, Linsey cried. ‘Tis frozen clean across it.

Wrelan opened her eyes. It was true! Now they could cross in safety. And Niall was no longer marooned on his boulder. He trod gingerly across the ice toward the farther bank. Wrelan felt weak and her knees shook, but she couldn’t rest, not until they’d gotten the children to the other side and destroyed the bridge behind them. The bairns had already ventured onto the ice and were slipping and sliding their way across, laughing when Gaira fell on her bottom and pulled Linsey and Kennis down with her. Barday went sliding back and forth, waving his arms and chuckling with glee.

Can we no bide here a wee while and play? he piped.

Not now, Barday. Shu’Ni took his hand. The warriors are coming and we must hurry.

Niall limped up as the little party scrambled onto the bank. He dripped and shivered, and Linsey found his plaid and helped bundle it around him. He was bruised where the current had thrown him against the rocks, and his back was bloody. But he grinned as if naught were amiss.

Och, ‘tis a rare family I’m marrying into, that can freeze rivers and fly through caverns. But the question now is can ye thaw yon stream before the warriors arrive? I wouldna want to ease their way across.

Wrelan sat on the ground, trying to stop the world from spinning. The gurgle and rush of water flowing under the ice sounded very far away.

Let me rest for a few heartbeats, then Shu’Ni and I will destroy the bridge, she said. I hope it will be easier than building it.

Shu’Ni turned to Niall. Perhaps you should take the children and go ahead. We’ll catch up with you when we’re done.

He looked doubtful. I dinna like to leave ye with yon warriors so close. Still, it would be safer to have the bairns away.

He set off up the hill carrying Cullan, the rest of the children following in a cluster. Barday trailed behind and looked back longingly at the ice, then trudged reluctantly after the others.

Shu’Ni sat beside Wrelan and held her close, as if she were a little girl to be comforted. They clung to each other for many heartbeats, while Wrelan gained strength. Suddenly, there was a great clatter, and they looked up in shock. Barday shot past them to run onto the ice, laughing and shouting that he wanted one more slide. He skidded, fell onto his bottom, and shot all the way to the other side of the stream.

Oh, you naughty boy, Shu’Ni cried. She ran to catch him with Wrelan close behind.

A huge hound raced up the slope in advance of the warriors, barking ferociously. It seized Barday’s tunic in its teeth and dragged him back toward its masters. Shu’Ni ran after the dog and beat it about the head with her fists until it loosed the boy. Then she pushed him away from its snapping teeth. Barday howled and trotted across the ice toward Niall, who was running back along the trail, leaving the rest of the children to stare after him.

Wrelan stabbed at the dog with the jeweled knife, but it was too quick for her. It backed off, snarling. She could hear the clink and jingle of the warriors’ mail and the excited yelps of the dog pack as they bounded up the slope. She stretched out her hands to the hound and pink smoke appeared, wreathing round the animal’s head. It whimpered and came close, licking her hands. The threat seemed over, but there was no way she could stun the great number of warriors and dogs charging toward them. As it was, she might not have enough power to shatter the ice bridge.

She grabbed Shu’Ni’s hand and pulled her back toward the stream. Suddenly, Shu’Ni gave a cry of pain and fell, clutching her ankle. Wrelan tried to lift her, but it was no good. Her strength was all but gone.

Wrelan, Shu’Ni cried, get across and destroy the bridge. I’ll use my gift to join you in a moment.

Wrelan’s soul was tortured. She would rather share whatever awaited them at Skena’s hands than forsake her sister. But Niall and the children were counting on her, too.

Go! Shu’Ni pushed at her urgently. You know you must.

Wrelan went. The hound raced at her heels. She reached the opposite side of the stream and stretched her palms toward the ice. A feeble flicker of silver wavered from her hands. The ice sizzled, but held firm. She gritted her teeth and tried again. A cloud of steam rose creating a light mist, making Shu’Ni appear surreal. The warriors were so close. Unless Shu’Ni transported immediately, she would be captured. Why wasn’t she using her gift to escape? Was she that weak or was she too badly hurt?

Shu’Ni, I’m coming to help you, she called.

Wrelan heard her sister’s cry of terror as two burly warriors grabbed her from behind. For a heartbeat, Shu’Ni’s form wavered as she tried to transport. The two were left with her empty cloak in their hands. Wrelan gave a glad shout, but it faded as Shu’Ni reappeared, not three strides from the warriors. One seized her wings roughly, and she screamed with pain as they began to drag her away. From overhead came mocking laughter, and the witch’s triumphant shout.

I have her! And I will have them all. After them, Gorgo! Take them now!

Wrelan, Shu’Ni cried. Destroy the bridge. Save the bairns.

>

Wrelan felt Niall’s strong arm around her. Ye must do as she says, my lassie, he said quietly.

Tears streamed down her face. Oh, Gods help me, she whispered.

She drew herself up and thrust her hands out over the ice. She was Wrelan, daughter of Sea and Fire. She would do this thing. Silver fire crackled from her palms, and the ice flew into a million fragments.

*

I’m going back to the witch’s camp. I’ll free my sister, or die trying. Wrelan strode on, wishing she could fly, or halt time-anything to make up for hours lost in sleep.

Niall frowned. But lassie, have some sense. They’ll be on their guard now for sure. Ye canna face an army by yourself.

She scowled. You refuse to help me, after all she did for us?

Och, of course I’ll help. You’re to be my wife and I’m with you no matter what.

Wrelan tossed her head. I won’t be anyone’s wife without Shu’Ni beside me at the wedding.

Niall snorted disgustedly and they continued in silence, their shadows lengthening on the heathery scrub as the sun arced past midday. Wrelan tried vainly to banish the picture of her sister being dragged back along the ridge, her delicate wings torn and broken by the grasp of the warriors. She kicked savagely at a stone, wanting to slash and kill and strangle them until their hateful faces turned blue. She glared at the sun. So many hours wasted because Mother Morag had made her drink a little whiskey, without a hint that it contained a potion to make her sleep from one sunrise until well past the next. She sighed. No use fretting about it, and at least she felt rested and strong. And Shu’Ni would have been so happy to see the children reunited with their kin.

It was late afternoon when they reached the hill overlooking the camp. They went up cautiously, watching out for patrolling warriors or the shadow bird. Wrelan strained her ears for any noise that would warn of danger, but all was quiet except for the sounds of nature. They reached the nest of rocks and peered over the edge into the valley. It stretched across to the farther hill, empty of all life. Skena and her army had vanished. They had either taken Shu’Ni with them, or left her broken body somewhere among the endless hills and glens and caverns of this cursed land. Dear Gods, why had Papa abandoned their sanctuary in the Northern Seas to bring them to such a place?

She let out a curse that made Niall jump. Great Neptune’s Fork, I’ll find Skena if it takes the rest of my life. And by the Gods, she’ll pay for this.

Ye talk like a warrior, lass, Niall said. But talk willna help us track them.

She followed him down into the valley. There was no trace of the army: not a broken blade of grass, not even a footprint. If it were only possible to look into the past and watch where they went.

An image flitted through her mind. It was possible; she could read the runes! She told Niall what she intended to do and started back up the hill. Her laddie matched her stride for stride.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

>

Shu’Lan bolted out of bed with a shriek and Faustio instantly stopped snoring and sprang forward, crouched and ready to do battle. Already, his knife was in one hand, a sword in the other. When he saw nothing save the shadows from the torch in their chambers, he swung toward his wife.

What be the matter, me love? He gazed into her slanted turquoise eyes and saw raw panic, something he’d never seen in her before. Regardless of everything they had lived through, his mate had never shown fear. Yer trembling like a minnow caught in orange tide.

She shrieked again, this time closing her eyes and slamming her hands against her ears. No! It cannot be!

Dykstra came racing through the cavern door, a sharp blade in her hand. She was followed by Pretog, armed more heavily.

They’re behind the golden veil, Dykstra said. What harm could they suffer there with the Gods’ protection guarding over them?

Faustio covered Shu’Lan with the sheets they had taken from the laundry and wrapped one about himself. Then he stepped through the shimmering gold curtain and it disappeared. He glanced back at Shu’Lan, who had stopped screaming, but was wailing as pitifully as a blue whale after the loss of its lifemate. She was nearly as white as the sheet and he could not find a way to connect, perchance discover what her ailment be.

Och, Dykstra cried, her mournful muttering nearly as disturbing as those of Shu’Lan.

She fell to her knees. After a few minutes, she glanced about the room as if she was uncertain where she was. Her gaze fell on Pretog and she waved him closer, then allowed him to help her to stand. Och, laddie. Her pain is terrible, as if someone had ripped out her heart and held it beating in front of her.

Faustio roared. He had seen and heard enough-all too much wailing and grief, with no explanations. He needed answers! What, in all that is holy, is her pain about? he growled. If the Demon seeks to take her back, I will—

Nay, Sea Dragon. ‘Tis not the Demon…well…I take that back, it is the Demon, but not how you be thinking. She paused and cast a helpless glance at Pretog. Have you seen the vision yet? Pretog shook his head. Nay? Then perchance ‘tis not true?

What is not true? Tell me lass! Tell me now!

I saw your daughter, Shu’Ni. She was losing her maidenhead to the Demon of Fire.

Nay! Say it’s not true, me wife. Say it, he pleaded, kneeling beside her and pulling her hands from her ears. Not Shu’Ni. Please, Gods, not Shu’Ni.

Shu’Lan shuddered, breathing in gulps and set to a new bout of wailing. When his mate said nothing, Faustio pulled her into his arms and they rocked together in pain. For several minutes, they clung to each other while the other pair looked on.

Xlana and Rynak came into the cavern. What’s the problem in here? Rynak demanded. We heard the noise all the way to the sick beds. Already, villagers are pacing, their fingers on their swords with the glimmer of revenge in their eyes.

Dykstra stepped forward. A vision, she explained. Shu’Ni has crossed to the Demon’s side. I saw it. I canna tell if the sight is true. Since the loss of my horn….

Aye, lass, I understand, he said to the Earth Dragon. He looked over at Shu’Lan. Did you share the same vision?

Shu’Lan hiccuped, her hysterics on hold as she glanced at her kinsmen. Aye. Shu’Ni welcomes my former master to her arms. She whimpered. She walks freely to his bed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Tis my fault. ‘Tis all my fault.

Rynak walked over and placed a hand on both Faustio and Shu’Lan. You are lovely, but a fool nonetheless to think you bear the burden of guilt. Days ago I saw the image of your daughter at the Demon’s side.

Faustio’s head shot up and his tear-filled eyes narrowed. Ye saw this and ye said nothing.

I have told you many times, brother, that your daughter’s ways would lead to trouble.

Aye, ‘tis the truth, Faustio, Dykstra added. We have talked of the same.

Shu’Lan glared. My daughter is innocent! How dare you—

Rynak shushed her with a calming finger to her lips. Listen, my sister, to what I say. I do not judge your daughter’s purity. In fact, I am not certain of my own vision. I, too, saw her in bed with the Demon, but ‘twas not pleasure I saw in her gaze-at least not her own. ‘Tis possible…and I believe likely…that she is a pawn in this ugly war. Red Falcon would not love a woman of little virtue, and he loves your daughter true. I see this in his heart and in his eyes. Whatever has become of Shu’Ni is not permanent. He patted the girl’s parents, and Faustio thought the smile Rynak gave came with great effort. Try to take comfort in this. The days are troubled enough without adding to your burden.

Faustio watched as Rynak went back to Xlana and walked her out of the room.

Take care, my brother and sister, Dykstra said. Your burden is ours and I, for one, trust Rynak’s judgment. This canna be Shu’Ni’s destiny. She took hold of Pretog’s arm and they left the room with much less haste than whence they came.

*

Do you really believe what you said in there? Xlana asked Rynak as they walked back to the sick beds. He was quiet a long time before he answered.

What do you believe?

She stopped. A cool breeze brushed her skin. I don’t honestly know, she admitted. Nothing is certain for me. I looked into Shu’Ni’s soul and saw nothing to prove she would turn. Aye, she played foolish games, but they were the games of youth, not the actions of evil. Her heart was good, despite her nimble abilities to make the worst impression of herself. And like you, I feel her destiny lies with Red Falcon. But this….

This changes naught, Red Falcon spoke, rapidly walking toward them. What the Demon steals can be taken back.

You heard? Xlana murmured.

He nodded. As did everyone in the caves. Mind ye, voices carry and echo along the walls. What Oi heard, what you fear…means naught. Makes no change to my plans to find the girl and wed her.

There could be obstacles, Rynak warned.

Then we face them, the blacksmith said. My heart has been closed for many a year. Shu’Ni changed that. Oi believe there’s a reason to everythin’. A purpose. Shu’Ni and Oi will get past this. Once Oi foind her….

Find her you will, my friend. Whatever time brings, I believe you will bring her home, Rynak said, slapping the man on his back. Given the ring on your finger, I would say her father feels the same.

The redhead blushed heavily, enough that even the shadows could not conceal his coloring. He said this ring was in his family for generations. When he first placed it on me finger, it glowed like a heartbeat. Oi had to check to see me own heart was in me chest. The old man laughed, saying it was proof that Oi was proper suited. He paused. Oi’ve never told a soul this, but me father brung me from the land of the North under cover of darkness when Oi was a boy. I remember it well, and oft does my mind wander to the icy mountains and the days spent at sea coming to this place.

Xlana thought on this for a moment. Was it coincidence or fate that brought Red Falcon to their midst? There are no mistakes. Everything happens as it should. Every action leads to the greater good of man and dragon alike, a voice whispered from within. She looked over at Rynak and was certain it did not come from him. And it wasn’t Czerick speaking. Where was the source?

Try to rest, she said. She smiled at Red, more certain than ever that he and Shu’Ni would be reunited.

Can’t, my lass, he answered. Gotta run the rounds and see that the beasties stay put. Both two-and four-footed. He shot her a wide smile showing a tooth missing and winked. Then he was off.

*

Rynak looked about, his gaze encompassing the long corridors of sick, wounded and dying mortals. His heart felt heavy, an overwhelming pain flowed through him as he realized how many lives had been changed by the Demon’s malicious attacks. How many lying in these beds would live to see their return to sunlight and fresh air? The stench of death lingered like the evening fog, foul and clinging to his skin, clogging his throat.

He gazed over at his wonderful wife. She was always busy, sharing a kind word with one, a smile with another. She passed her goodness around with her potions and herbs. Two days it had been since she’d taken over the care of the sick, splitting her time between both sides of the loch.

At least one side fared better than the other. Those who had lived and learned from Czerick were doing well in taking care of their own. But where was the sorcerer? Rynak was not ashamed to admit that he missed the cantankerous sphere of light. Pausing to kiss Xlana on the forehead, he paced the caverns, studying every shadowy corner and searching for any clue of Xlana’s father figure.

As he passed villagers huddled together, he noticed they stopped talking as he approached and picked up again when they assumed he was out of hearing range. Still, he heard their grievances, their grumbling and questions of whether they should remain with the damned immortals or struggle for life outside the caves. He couldn’t blame them. Too many were coughing with the stale air, the dampness of the clay seeping in their skin. How long could they hold on?

Were they doing these peasants a favor by exchanging the dangers of the Demon for the dangers of prolonged exposure to unhealthy conditions? True, he and his kinsmen had rounded them up and forced them into the frigid waters of the loch-if only to make the smell easier to tolerate. Dykstra had already created one cave and sealed another when the odor of human waste became impossible to ignore. Could she create another as time went by, or was that part of her powers gone with her ability to transform?

Questions assailed him from every direction. He had no answers. Would the Demon finalize this war he’d started or were they supposed to go in search of the evil one? He no longer knew. And where was Czerick? Rynak feared the worst, but he pasted a false expression of confidence on his face whenever anyone else asked. He wondered what would happen when the others saw through his disguise.

Alone in a long corridor, Rynak stopped and knelt in prayer. Almighty Dragon, you have led me thus far. I beg your forgiveness for my doubts and fears. Where have you gone? I no longer hear your voice. You asked me to lead, but I do not see the path. One foot falls in front of the other, but I know not where my feet take me. How can I lead others when I do not know the direction?

Powerful hard it is to tell others what must be done when ye are fighting battles both in and out of yer own mind, eh, brother?

Rynak jumped. He looked up to see Faustio, his eyes full of understanding. He was never so close to weeping and he gulped in a great breath to stop himself. How much had the Sea Dragon overheard?

Tears are the sign of a great man, Faustio said. At least that’s what me wife says, he added with a sorrowful chuckle. He shook his head and silky pewter strands of hair flipped over his broad shoulder. I meself have not seen the purpose of adding more water to a world overrun with it. He patted Rynak on the back. But I’ll confess to shedding me share.

What are we to do, my brother? I look about and see only dark shadows creeping ever closer, inching their way toward me, and I fear I’ll lose my way. I’ll lose…oh, by the Gods, what we could all lose.

There came a time when I wondered the same. By Neptune’s Fork, I find meself searching for the same answers today. The last time, a giant of a man took me by the hand and bellowed, ‘By the Gods, we end this. Now.’ We did, giant, that very day. Where I was weak, ye stood tall, mighty as the antzen tree Pretog speaks of. I recall wondering if ye ever felt any doubts of how things would end.

Rynak snorted. Only a fool takes a step without wondering where the path leads. He slid his legs forward and sat on the cold damp floor.

Ye be no fool, giant brother of mine. And I think ye just answered yer own question.

What good was answering his own question, when he needed the voice of The Almighty Dragon? Rynak leaned forward until his chin touched his knees. Seconds later, he looked over at Faustio and sighed. And the innocent mortals who sit in the middle of this mess?

Would they not be in the middle whether we were here or not? Dykstra asked, making her way to join them.

A dragon can go nowhere to find privacy, can he? Rynak asked.

Faustio and Dykstra shook their heads, each wearing a cocky grin. We share the fight, we share the burden, Dykstra said. We share the fears.

Rynak’s moment of good humor died a sudden death. So I’ve fooled none of you, have I?

Ye’ve carried us through much of the struggle with your cocksure bellows, she said. When your bellowing stopped, I knew there was more on your mind than bedding your wife.

Rynak’s mouth twitched. He hurt too much to smile. How much could he tell them before their confidence faltered like his? He opted for the truth. I’ve never been without the guidance of The Almighty Dragon, he confessed, but I feel myself as driftwood carried along a strong tide. He looked at both, aching inside at their expressions of dismay. I’ve let you down.

We were strangers called to perform a task. We didna know the way of things or the outcome, so how can you say ye’ve let us down? Dykstra’s gaze pierced him like a mighty sword. Takes a large ego to take on the burden ye choose to carry.

She was right, he realized. ‘Twas his ego hurting, he should have known it sooner.

Your beauty is enhanced by your insight, he said. No wonder the woodsman won’t let you out of his view. How did you sneak away from him?

I didna. He stands nearby, far enough to give us privacy, near enough to guard our backs.

Rynak chuckled. It rang with false hope. So another had heard his confession of weakness. He wished he could see the sky, ride the currents and be left alone with his thoughts. And the six shall act as one. He winked at Faustio and Dykstra, another act to bolster their confidence while his lay broken and frail. Leaves no room for an ego, does it?

Ar, my dragon brother, it doesna.

Sister dragon, ye mere whelp! How dare ye try to steal me tongue, Faustio teased. He grabbed her by the neck and playfully mussed her hair. I’ll teach ye to mind yer manners.

Rynak gave Pretog’s shoulder a pat as he left the clay room. Though he had not heard from The Almighty Dragon, he had, at least, heard from his kinsmen. For the moment, it would have to be enough. But what of the confrontation to come?

*

A scary thought when he has doubts, Dykstra murmured to Pretog and Faustio after Rynak left the cavern.

Faustio had his own concerns; he’d seen too easily through his brother’s ruse and remembered well how it felt to bear the burden of others’ lives.

Aye. Thought I that he knew everything, Pretog said.

And the six shall act as one, Faustio reminded them. That is the key. Come along, wee ones, there are jobs to be done. They needed to be busy or the struggles to come would be worse. For all. He ushered them along the corridor and issued duties as he went.

Once alone, his thoughts turned inward. Why had The Almighty Dragon chosen to leave Rynak in silence? It made no sense at all. And had he, Faustio, appeared so weak that the others chose to keep their visions of Shu’Ni a secret? Was he help or hindrance in this war? The choices he’d made years earlier bore endless tentacles, striking out at those he loved most. He had killed Skena, the Demon’s mate. Or had he? Were the Chosen Ones and his family to pay the price forever? Where did Wrelan and Shu’Ni fit in with the Demon’s plans? Could his daughter really give herself to that disgusting creature? And what of Wrelan? Was she healthy and safe? The women’s visions spoke nothing of his youngest daughter.

*

Niall and Wrelan reached the hut in the dark of predawn. It was warm and quiet as always and the Old One as calm and sensible. She refused to produce her journal until Wrelan and Niall had eaten and rested before the fire for a while.

I know why you’re here, child, she said. But you go on a fool’s errand. Did I not tell you that the body is naught?

I won’t rest until I know what has happened to Shu’Ni, Wrelan insisted stubbornly.

The Old One pulled her frail shawl about her and sighed. Very well. Here is the book. But beware of making judgments. You could do great harm.

Wrelan touched the golden star on the journal’s cover and felt the tingle of power run from her fingertips to her heart. She glanced at Niall. He gazed steadily at her, but he remained seated by the fire. She opened the book and leafed through it, marveling anew at the crisp blackness of the tiny runes and the jewel-points of color sparkling in their intricate shapes. She touched one and saw herself and Niall approaching the hut. Her finger skipped backwards and she saw her ice bridge shatter to splinters. The warriors on the other side of the stream fell back howling, their faces and bodies pierced by flying shards of ice, sharp as daggers. Many lay on the ground, bloody and unmoving. Overhead, Skena’s voice screamed abuse and fury. But she had Shu’Ni-and she meant to keep her. A warrior held the girl firmly by her fragile wings and dragged her away along the ridge.

Wrelan slid her finger forward. Ah! Here was the camp. The warrior hustled Shu’Ni toward the witch’s tent and the shadow-woman glided out from the sprawl of dark hide.

So, seed of my enemy, I have you, she crooned.

Shu’Ni faced her squarely. What do you want with me, witch?

Skena smiled, the blue sparks of her eyes glittering. Just a little thing, my pet.

She floated forward and caressed Shu’Ni’s cheek, her smoke-like fingers lingering in a parody of affection. Your father deprived me of a body with which to pleasure my lord. It is only fitting that he now makes good our loss. The gift of your maidenhead will please my lord greatly.

The girl shuddered as the smoky finger traced a path down her neck and toward her breast. She fought against the warrior, whose arms held her tightly in place. The sky grew dark and the wind moaned sullenly. The shadow woman drifted closer to her, enveloped her, melded…. Shu’Ni raised her head, and Wrelan saw the flame blue eyes of the witch looking out of her sister’s face, as the warrior who had held Shu’Ni backed away and prostrated himself in reverence to his queen.

The pictures wavered as Wrelan’s finger traced the runes. She saw Shu’Ni lead the warriors away from camp, her wings mended and evil glowing in her eyes. She wanted to watch as they went, but the pictures darkened and swirled. Her head pounded and waves of nausea swept through her.

I cannot see any more, she gasped.

The Old One helped her to a stool near the fire and pressed a mug to her lips. Drink, child. It will help you.

Wrelan sipped the warm liquid. The sickness passed, but nothing could heal the pain in her soul. She sat for a long time, staring into the flames, consumed with sorrow and loss and guilt. Had she been wrong to try and save Niall? Wrong to try to reunite her family? She knew what she had to do now, and she dreaded it. By the Gods, how was she going to tell Papa that she’d led Shu’Ni into eternal damnation?

*

The Old One led Wrelan and Niall away from the hut, her stride as long and youthful as a girl’s. She took them to the shore of the loch and pulled a boat from its hiding place among the long grasses of the bank.

I will go with you to your people, she said. Wrelan, you must cease to blame yourself. You cannot walk another’s path, no matter how you yearn to save them from harm.

Wrelan didn’t answer. She climbed into the boat and sat in the stern with the Old One beside her. Niall took the oars and soon they were gliding swiftly across the water. The morning was gray and tranquil and the surface of the loch shone pewter like Faustio’s hair. The thought of her father and the misery she was bringing him made Wrelan wince. How easy it was for the Old One to talk of blame and destiny, but this sorry mess had come about because of one woman’s perfidy. Shu’Lan had abandoned her husband and babies and wallowed in lust with the Demon. She was the one to blame.

They passed a village, ravaged by war and deserted. Piles of burnt beams hung where small, snug houses had once stood. The stench of death was thick in the air. Carrion birds quarreled and feasted. She shivered, thankful when Niall tugged harder at the oars, making the little boat almost fly through the water. At the farther end of the loch, the wreck of another village came into view, growing clearer as they moved toward it. Here, too, was death and desolation, but a few people still worked among the ruins. The boat’s keel grated on shingle and Niall sprang out to drag it from the water. Wrelan and the Old One followed him.

There was worse carnage here than on the other side. Bodies mangled by carnivorous animals lay all around, gruesome and covered with flies. The carcasses of lions and bears sprawled amongst them, with glazed eyes and snarling faces. The stench was gut-wrenching, and Wrelan felt her stomach heave. They passed small parties of villagers with cloth-wrapped faces, who gathered the pitiful remains of men, women and children to take them to a common grave. Some were weeping, but it was mostly grim eyes that stared out over the masks.

You will find your people in the caverns yonder, said the Old One, pointing. I am needed here.

Wrelan went on, with Niall’s hand firm on her shoulder. They passed through a tunnel, where women scurried about carrying strips of cloth, vials of colored liquid, and steaming bowls. The air reeked with the smell of healing herbs, blood, and vomit, of unwashed humanity and despair. Niall stopped a boy who wore a dirty bandage around one arm and asked him where they could find Faustio, but he didn’t know.

His sleeping chamber lies yonder, master, he said, pointing toward a corridor to the left.

Niall thanked him and they followed the passage he’d indicated. The opening to a smaller cavern appeared seconds later. A few strides within, Wrelan noticed a shimmering gold curtain that twinkled like stars banded together. Instead of seeing its beauty, Wrelan was reminded horribly of the imprisoning draperies of the Demon’s palace. She touched it and immediately, the curtain disappeared. Wrelan blinked. Her gaze lit on a small figure reclining on the bed, and a surge of rage, guilt and hatred welled up inside her. It was her mother, Shu’Lan.

*

Shu’Lan lay on the bed she’d shared with Faustio the previous night, ashamed of her weakness. After only an hour of work amongst the sick and wounded in the caves, she’d been driven to sneak away and rest. Years of indolence in the Demon’s palace, followed by the desperate journey to regain Faustio’s horn had taken their toll. She was no longer the strong young girl she had been. But her strength would return little by little, she told herself. She had only to persevere, in spite of the faintness that overtook her far too quickly, and she would soon be able to work all day and far into the night as the others did.

You!

Shu’Lan looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. With a cry of joy, she sat up to see Wrelan standing nearby, a young man beside her. She gazed from one to the other, hardly daring to believe her eyes. Her daughter was safe. And the tall young stranger with his shock of auburn curls and Maelgon’s dagger stuck in his belt could be no one but Niall.

Daughter, I….

Wrelan glared at her. I might have known you were too fine to work among the people your lover has brought to ruin. You lie in idleness whilst others break their backs to serve you.

Shu’Lan was stunned by the harshness of Wrelan’s words. She felt like a mouse pinned by the fierce stare of a gyrfalcon. She forced herself to her feet, swayed dizzily, and caught at her daughter’s arm for support.

The girl thrust her off. Do you not wonder where your other daughter is, my dear mother? Or do you already know, having helped deliver her to your foul lover?

No, Shu’Lan whispered. She sank back onto the bed. The pain in her soul so grievous, it seemed to suck her limbs closer until she lay in a fetal position. Ah no. The vision…it was true…. Oh, my poor, sweet Shu’Ni. She rocked, praying it was not true.

Save your false tears, Wrelan said cruelly. I know where you went after your tried to kill Papa. Straight to the Demon’s arms.

Shu’Lan felt her face flame. There was a roaring in her ears and her heart pounded. It is true I went to the Demon’s palace. But it was to retrieve your father’s horn.

A likely tale.

Nevertheless, it is true. Shu’Lan said, daring to reach beyond her pain and needing to touch her daughter. She reached out to touch Wrelan’s arm gently. Come. We should not quarrel. We are all needed to fight the horror the Demon would bring upon us. And besides, I am still your mother, in spite of all I’ve done.

I would drain every drop of my blood, if that would rid me of your taint. I’d rather die than be kin of yours.

Wrelan turned and stepped away. When she turned back, the golden curtain had reappeared. I could kill you with my own hands for what you’ve done to Shu’Ni, and Papa, and me-mother or no.

*

Wrelan was almost blind with fury as she strode away from Shu’Lan, past the cool, damp, clay walls. She shrugged off Niall’s restraining hand and fought down the small seed of fear that she was wrong. No! Her mother was lost, a tool of the Demon for all eternity. She took another fierce stride and came up short-smack against Rynak’s immortal chest. She blinked and shook her head to clear the mist of temper from her eyes.

Two lovely women stood beside Rynak, one with hair black as midnight, the other with a mane as bright as the sun. A husky young man with strange green marks on his face hovered behind the two women. Faustio was there, too, with a horde of villagers crowded behind him, all crammed into the narrow passage and muttering ominously.

Rynak looked at her sternly. Wrelan, your quarrel with your mother rang throughout the caves. You have caused much trouble.

You were ready enough to kill me when you thought me the Demon’s seed, Heaven’s Dragon, Wrelan said. What reason have you to spare the Demon’s whore?

Faustio sprang forward and gripped her arm. Ye wicked, unnatural child, after yer mother risked her life to save ye from Rynak’s blast. Can’t ye see what ye’ve done? Ye have infected the villagers with yer nasty distrust of yer mother. They’ll stop at naught to drive her out. There has already been one attempt on her life.

A young village woman elbowed through the crowd and tugged at Wrelan’s sleeve. Och, is it true, mistress? That one is in wi’ the Demon? She nodded toward the corridor they had just left. If ye’re right, we shouldna wait. We must lop off her head, before she betrays us all. The woman’s eyes gleamed avidly. Wrelan thought she saw a hint of blue fire in their depths, but it was gone so fast she decided she’d imagined it.

An ugly growl arose from the crowd and the mob surged forward. Within an instant, Faustio had released her arm and transformed to dragon shape, his claws raised and his great tail lashing. Was this her father? What had happened that he could take the shape of his younger years? Had her mother spoken the truth?

Keep back, he boomed. Ye won’t harm me wife while I live.

The crowd worked and boiled and suddenly parted. Another young man strode through the press, his sword drawn.

If any has right to kill her, Oi have. My heart’s love is lost, and if Oi foind it is Shu’Lan who has delivered my Shu’Ni into the Demon’s hands, Blood Drinker shall slake his thirst before many heartbeats be passed. He waved the weapon aloft, and the rubies set in its hilt gleamed balefully. It was as if the wicked blade licked its lips. The villagers fell back a pace, murmuring in awe.

Faustio’s roar shook the walls. Red Falcon, if yer intend to be son of me house, ye’ll respect me wife. And if yer think to kill her, know you’ll go through me first.

Red Falcon? This tree of a man with locks of scarlet was the man her sister had chosen for life? Wrelan thought, astonished.

Enough! The authority in Rynak’s voice brought an instant hush, which remained unbroken for many heartbeats.

Then Shu’Lan spoke, her voice frail, as if it trembled as badly as her tiny hand clinging to Faustio’s wing. This is all my fault. I have brought danger and disgrace on all I love. If I must forfeit my life, I deserve no better.

Wrelan’s stomach tightened and a boulder lodged in her throat. Did she speak in earnest or was she acting for sympathy?

Red Falcon took a quick step forward. Ye speak truth, milady, and Oi’ll see ye do it.

He raised Blood Drinker. Faustio made to swat the weapon from his hand, but Shu’Lan stopped him.

There is no way I can prove my loyalty to you or the alliance, she said sadly. But I can die for you, my husband.

There be a way, Red said thoughtfully. Be ye truly willing to die to prove yer innocence?

Shu’Lan moved aside from Faustio and drew herself up proudly. I am of the House of Lan’Tai. We do not fear death.

Red Falcon pointed toward the ground with his sword. Then bare your neck and kneel before me.

Wrelan knew the look on her father’s face. Would there be no end to the bloodshed? Had she been wrong in accusing her mother? She had never seen her father so protective of her mother. She knew Faustio would have swatted Red to a pulp.

But Rynak stayed the mighty Sea Dragon and her father transformed back to immortal form. He held Faustio’s arm and clamped a beefy hand around Wrelan, pulling her closer to him. Stay, brother, he said. If she must die for the cause, so be it.

Wrelan fought to be free of his arm, her mouth open to stop this atrocity. One look from Rynak silenced her. Keep your mouth shut. There is more at stake here than your petty grievance with your mother.

Shu’Lan dropped her garment and knelt at Red Falcon’s feet. She put her hands to her head and swept her fall of lustrous aqua hair to one side, exposing her slender neck. The crowd stirred restlessly, while the young village woman eyed the scene with gloating satisfaction.

Red Falcon raised Blood Drinker high and brought it down in a blinding arc. There was a moment of silence so thick it was tangible, and then a long sigh rippled through the cave. A drop of blood stood winking on Shu’Lan’s bent neck, but she was otherwise unharmed.

She is innocent, Red Falcon proclaimed. Blood Drinker will not feed on the life of a righteous soul.

‘Tis naught but a trick, the young village woman shouted. Och, yon blacksmith’s a master swordsman! He can make a little cut like that whenever he so chooses. I say we kill the wench.

Red Falcon whirled on her and blue sparks glittered in her eyes. He raised his sword again. Her shriek died in a hideous gurgle as Blood Drinker clove her head from her body. The blade gleamed red for an instant, then all traces of blood vanished, and the sword purred loudly, like a cat with its fill of cream. Someone in the crowd screamed, and as if released from a spell, the villagers turned and fled.

Wrelan swayed. Rynak held her a moment to steady her and then released her. She threw herself on her knees beside her mother, pleading brokenly for forgiveness. She felt gentle hands on her shoulders, and she looked up to see the raven-haired woman gazing at her, her lovely face calm and serene.

I am Xlana, wife to Rynak, she said. Let me tend your mother’s hurts.

Xlana placed her hand on Shu’Lan’s neck. Blood Drinker’s mark vanished, leaving the pewter skin free of even the slightest scar. The golden-haired one helped Xlana to raise Shu’Lan and clothe her. Faustio raced forward and took his wife in his arms, offering shelter and support.

The golden one turned to Wrelan. I’m Dykstra, the Earth Dragon. She nodded toward the young man with the light green marks on his face. And this is my mate, Pretog. We are pleased to see ye safe, Wrelan, and yer laddie with ye.

Wrelan saw love and concern in Dyktra’s face. She felt comforted, as she never thought she would be again. She looked over at her father. I’m so sorry, Papa. I thought….

Faustio stretched out one arm, and she darted to his side. He held both her and Shu’Lan. She nestled against her father, hearing his heartbeat beneath her ear, and felt Niall’s hand clasp strongly around hers. A small seed of hope grew inside her.

Rynak’s voice brought her back to reality. Where is your sister Shu’Ni?

Wrelan was afraid of Rynak, and she realized he still didn’t trust her. She was about to answer him, when a burst of brilliant light filled the passage, dazzling her eyes.

A high, clear voice spoke from above.

Chosen Ones, it is time.

When Wrelan’s eyes cleared only she, Niall and Red Falcon stood there, each looking as bewildered as she felt.

The Dragons and their Immortal spouses were gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

>

Black smoke clung to Dykstra’s skin like a damp, itchy cloak. She strained her eyes, but even with her keen vision she couldn’t see more than an arm’s length in any direction. Where were they? What had become of the others? She huddled closer to Pretog, feeling isolated and vulnerable. A trickle of fear snaked down her back. If only she could transform to dragon shape and tunnel to safety, perchance she could find Rynak and Faustio. Damn the elf who had stolen her horn!

The pale green lines on Pretog’s face were in total disarray, and he looked as disoriented as she felt. He eased away and extended a hand to probe the murk. Tongues of blue flame sprang up and hissed like coiled snakes about to strike. Poisonous. Deadly. Pretog jerked his arm away from them as if he’d been stung and Dykstra gave a cry of dismay. Then she remembered Czerick saying the Demon of Fire was a master of deception. Could this all be an illusion? She poked at the smoke with her finger and the flames flickered out.

Ah, my pretty Earth Dragon. The Demon’s disembodied voice filled the black fog around them. You are quick to see through my ruse. But you cling to a twig, helpless as a fly in a spider’s web. You cannot defeat me.

The smoke swirled and the Demon appeared a few strides away. His empty gaze swept over her, seeming to suck the life force from her body. Her knees threatened to buckle, but Pretog’s hand folded warmly over hers. For a moment their thoughts entwined. He allowed her to feel his fear and showed her how to overcome her weakness as he stood tall and proud, facing his destiny. His strength warmed her and she lifted her chin defiantly. If her mate could face this evil, she could, too.

The Demon’s face contorted in a smile. He pulled a glowing golden spiral from the folds of his cloak. How sad that without this you are forced to walk as a mortal, my pretty. But never fear, I shall take great pleasure in making your life…interesting.

Dykstra’s heart sank. While that monster has my horn, I canna become a dragon, she whispered. I willna have the size and strength to be of help to ye. If we lose the war ‘twill be no one’s fault but my own.

Pretog squeezed her hand. Was I who lost your horn. Be you strong as ever! ‘Twas never that piece of shell made you what you be. Dragon of Talgari are you, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, whatever shape take you.

His words brought tears to her eyes and she blinked them away. She stared at the Demon, seeking answers in his dark and desolate soul.

He plays with us, beloved, she whispered, hoping to stop Pretog from rushing forward on an impossible mission. She didn’t have to look down to see her woodsman’s feet stomping the ground like an elderbeast beating out a warning to a predator. He waits for us to try and snatch the horn, intent on adding our souls to his collection.

Right are you. He touched her cheek. Want I much to regain that which is yours, but words linger within, warning me to see beyond our lives. Fight we not just for ourselves, but for the future of our world.

Ah, woodsman. The Demon’s gaze lingered on Dykstra. Shall I make you watch as I plant my seed within your lovely wife?

Never!

Pretog leapt at their tormentor. The Demon drifted back, teasingly waving the horn just beyond reach of the woodsman’s desperate lunges. Fire burst from the ground under Pretog’s feet, but he ran on. Each step must have been pure torture.

Dinna heed him, my love, Dykstra cried. We canna gain the horn. We could lose the war in trying.

She ran after him, but drew back screaming as he burst into flames, like a pile of kindling ripe for the cookfire. Her heart broke. Her soul shriveled within her as she crept the last few strides to reach him. Unmindful of the pain, she nestled against the burning form of her mate. The Demon’s mocking howls filled the black smoke that once more closed around them.

Forgive us, Chosen Ones, Dykstra murmured. We have failed you.

*

Faustio snorted, trying to clear the stench from his nostrils. What by Holy Atlantis was going on? His wife clung to him, choking on the murky tendrils of fog that curled around her face. He flapped his arms wildly and managed to clear a small circle of air around them. They seemed to be in a cave of oily black smoke that swirled sickeningly and looked so thick he’d need a dagger to pierce it.

‘Tis the Demon, Shu’Lan whispered. He holds lost ones in such smoke as this until he has use for them.

Her fingers were ice cold against Faustio’s skin and he knew she was terrified. The only time her hands froze like the ice of the Northlands was when she feared something worse than death.

I have seen him do this many times and the outcome never varies. She sounded as mournful as the birds of the sea after the loss of one of their own.

Then ‘tis time things were changed, me wife, he said. Stand tall and proud at me side, and the alliance will prevail. I’ll not fail ye again.

She gazed up at him with slanted, delicately lined turquoise eyes, and her lips quivered. My husband, I am so sorry. When the Demon came to our bed, he deceived me. I thought it was you and I was beside myself with joy. Then…it was too late…and now I have placed all of us in danger.

Faustio hugged her to him. Enough. The past be done. What we do here and now be what counts. Come wife, stand strong by me side.

He rose to dragon form and Shu’Lan pressed close against his scales. Her turbulent emotions swept through him, her guilt and insecurities cresting like deadly waves in the storms of a seaman’s worst nightmare. If he couldn’t comfort her, she would surely founder, taking him-and perchance the whole alliance-down with her.

You are of the House of Lan’Tai, he said firmly. And I am Faustio, son of Whe’li, Dragon of the Seas. We are the Chosen Ones. We must find the others and stand united. Through The Six, the Gods and the Dragons of Talgari will prevail.

He shredded a passage through the fog with a thrust of his massive claw and strode on, sheltering his wife with his wing. Pride swelled from within as she stepped forward to stand beside him. Whatever they faced, they would do so as one.

The Demon’s voice came silkily through the smoke. You have betrayed me, my Lady Shu’Lan. You deserve death, just like these two poor souls.

A gap appeared in the murk. Two scorched and broken figures lay on the ground a few strides ahead, barely recognizable as Dykstra and Pretog. Dykstra’s shoulders moved as if she wept, but the woodsman lay still as death.

Shu’Lan’s shriek of rage and sorrow ripped through the fog, and Faustio held her tightly to prevent her from rushing to their friends’ aid.

Wait, wife, he cried. Who should know better than you that he traps his prey with deceit? ‘Tis but a trick to get us in his power.

He felt her body ease a little and she nodded. ‘Twas as if time reversed itself and their world was new. Love and communication flowed between them as in years long past.

The Demon drifted into view behind the prone figures of the Earth Dragon and her mate. Are you so sure this isn’t real? he mocked. He stooped and lifted a strand of Dykstra’s silky hair, and it sizzled to ashes at his touch.

Shu’Lan gazed at the Demon without flinching. I betrayed my husband because of your illusions, but I was alone and weak when you came sneaking into my home. Now he has forgiven me and we stand together. You cannot defeat us with your lies.

The Demon sneered. So you feel strong do you, whore? Perchance you and your sea slug should meet the one who now warms my bed.

He opened his cloak and thrust forward a naked girl. She moved awkwardly, as if she had no control over her limbs, and she dug her feet into the ground, fighting every step. The Demon shook her and after a short struggle, she stood beside him tamely, her head bowed. Silken hair the color of new leaves curtained her face and delicate lavender wings rose from her shoulders. It was Shu’Ni.

>

Faustio bellowed a curse and lunged at the Demon. Through a red haze, he felt Shu’Lan’s hand holding him back. He tried to shake her off, but her will held him.

Husband, she said fiercely. That is not our daughter. See!

The girl raised her head and Faustio felt a shock like a dagger in his heart. The gaze meeting his own was venomous; twin points of blue fire mocked him. He knew only one woman with eyes like that. Skena, the Demon’s mate.

Oh, Holy Atlantis, what had he done? He had killed the witch long years ago, but here she stood in the body of his daughter! How had she lived through his blast of silver fire? ‘Tis all my fault, he groaned. This whole bloody war is the Demon’s revenge for what I did to his mate.

No, husband. The Demon seeks to weaken us. Shu’Ni is not dead. Skena cannot live in an empty shell, so she must have…. Of course! ‘Tis why Shu’Ni was loath to stand at the monster’s side! Do you hear me, Faustio? Shu’Ni lives! Her spirit fights to show us the way.

He absorbed the news in silence. Fights to show us the way? What could she mean? Then he understood. Shu’Ni was ready to die if that was what it took to destroy the Demon and his evil mate. To destroy Skena, they must destroy Shu’Ni.

He’d thought his heart had already broken into more pieces than possible, but he was wrong. How could he do it? How could he destroy the beloved child of his flesh? He sank to the ground, the great dragon’s body suddenly too heavy for him to support. Black smoke gathered around the Demon and Shu’Ni, and he was left alone with his weeping wife. All he wanted was to go back to the North Seas and lose himself in the comfort of the weed.

*

A dark mist swirled around them, sticky and cloying, with visions spinning in its depth. Rynak watched in horror as Pretog and Dykstra burned and the Demon flaunted the Earth Dragon’s horn in wicked glee. He saw Faustio collapse, dwindling from a great dragon into a wretched mortal, while Shu’Lan, mad with grief, strove vainly to comfort him. Their thoughts clawed at his mind and he reeled under the impact of their suffering, unable to help. He rushed forward, Xlana beside him, but the figures receded, always maddeningly out of reach.

Speak to me, Supreme One. Almighty Dragon, help me, he pleaded. But they were silent.

His rage and frustration melted into despair. The alliance was a shambles…broken. He glanced at Xlana, afraid to face the disappointment he was certain she must feel. But her eyes were full love and understanding, as always. He opened his mind to her, ashamed to expose his confusion, but needing to feel her presence, her encouragement.

The alliance remains, husband. We are strong, stronger than you know, she said gently.

Nay, we are doomed. All of humankind, beasts and creatures of this world will fall because I am weak. Look at Pretog and Dykstra. Look at Faustio and Shu’Lan. The Demon has brought them to ruin, while I stood by helpless. I have failed you all.

Can this be the all powerful Rynak? The Demon of Fire hovered before them, his blood red cloak glowing dully through the mist. Be careful of your thoughts, Heaven’s Dragon. They will betray you. As did your wife.

Rage enveloped Rynak. Reality and illusion mingled, and the shape of the Demon shifted chaotically. He lunged, striking out blindly, filled with hatred and disgust. The touch of Xlana’s hand on his arm steadied him, startling him from his violent thoughts. He stared at her and suddenly wondered why she appeared different. New. She faced the Demon calmly, and her voice was like the wind of heaven, sweet and strong.

You think us weak, as you thought The Supreme One and The Almighty Dragon to be weak. ‘Twas your mistake, she told the Demon. She stroked her belly and Rynak’s eyes widened. I carry their seed-our seed. She glanced meaningfully at Rynak. They speak to me through the bairn’s heart. They tell me that to protect him is our purpose, our destiny.

The Demon sneered. So, sweet Xlana. Your fears of me are banished, are they? But are you not missing one of your fold?

He reached inside his cloak and drew out a woolen sack. From it, he extracted Czerick, holding the sorcerer tightly in his grasp. Czerick glowed bright purple and cursed the evil one with all his might. Suddenly, his essence dimmed and he became ominously quiet. The Demon returned him to the sack and slid it back inside his cloak. With a whisper of thought I may still the old man’s braying, he purred. Perchance you will not feel quite so brave while I hold your guardian in my power.

Rynak felt Xlana’s loss as if it were his own. Czerick. What horrible atrocities had he suffered while they wondered of his whereabouts? If they continued this war, they would certainly lose him. He would either be destroyed by his own kin, or condemned to a living hell in the Demon’s hands. Rynak put his arm about his wife’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. Compassion flowed between them and he sensed, for the first time, the growing life of the child within her. This was what they fought for-this child and all the others. He felt her spirit, resolute and strong, and he knew she was with him, no matter what the cost. He threw back his head and roared the battle cry of the alliance.

And the Six shall act as one!

The ground shook and the black mist seemed to boil. Xlana gave a glad cry as Dykstra, Pretog, Faustio and Shu’Lan walked toward them, whole and unharmed, scattering the Demon’s sick illusions. The Chosen Ones linked minds and souls and hearts, and faced their enemy, echoing Rynak’s cry.

And the Six shall act as one!

They stood in a line, their arms extended, fingers stretched apart. A burst of purple flashed from every palm. It spread in a great cloud, enveloping the Demon and all he had with him. He writhed, cursing and fighting to escape, flashes of lurid light erupting from his head and hands as he thrashed. The sound of Shu’Ni whimpering in pain joined with Czerick’s groans in a heartrending chorus, but the six stood firm. The purple stream glowed and poured forth with renewed energy.

Suddenly, the Demon pulled Dykstra’s horn from under his cloak. He swung it around his head and hurled it at Rynak with all his strength. The cloud swirled and thinned. The Demon howled in triumph. Now, Skena! he screamed.

Then he was gone, taking Shu’Ni and Czerick with him.

*

The air in the cavern tingled with the fading energy of the silver blast, which had seemed to hold them immobile for an age. Wrelan turned her head slowly and gazed around.

Where are Mama and Papa? she cried. And the others. Where did they go?

Niall’s grip tightened on her hand, then Red Falcon gave a great shout and waved Blood Drinker.

By the Gods, Oi must get to the battlefield. He spun toward Niall. Highlander, if ye be on the side of right, we need ye now.

Och, we’re both behind ye. Niall drew the jeweled dagger from his belt. Let’s see what this pretty wee thing can do against yon curs.

He ran after Red, pulling Wrelan with him as they raced through the caves. She went gladly. She’d die for a chance to repay those who had done such evil to her own family and many another innocent besides. With her smoke and her silver fire, she would repay them well.

Outside, the three halted, staring in disbelief. Nothing moved, and all was quiet. There was no sign of battle, though shreds of black smoke hung in the air, drifting away on the wind. A cloud of purple mist shone against the soft gray sky, and they stood before it, the villagers who had crept from the safety of the caves shifting uneasily behind them. A small boy caught at Red Falcon’s jerkin, and the blacksmith put his arm around the lad’s thin shoulders.

The mist parted and Wrelan gasped with surprise. The Old One stood there, the purple vapor thick behind her.

Come child, and your Highlander with you. You too, Red Falcon, and young Macklin. The rest of you, be patient. All is well and we shall join you soon.

She melted back into the mist with Wrelan, the boy and the two young men behind her.

*

For many heartbeats, Xlana felt nothing but the perfect unity of the Chosen Ones. The purple mist caressed them, tingling with the unseen presence of The Supreme One and The Almighty Dragon. There was no sense of loss or triumph, only a profound peace. As one, the six sank down onto the soft heather of the hillside, huddling like pups, an indivisible family. They were joined for all time now, just as they always had been.

‘Twas the Demon’s lies we saw in the smoke, Xlana mused. In reality, Pretog and Dykstra refused to leap at the bait of her horn in his hands. And Shu’Lan and Faustio did not break at the thought of sacrificing Shu’Ni. Just as Rynak and I faced the loss of Czerick. She smiled at her mate and he stroked the back of her hand softly, sharing her thoughts.

Dykstra cradled her horn, one Godsent gain to set against all that was lost. Its gleaming gold spoke of sunlight at the end of a long and perilous night, and the six gazed at it fondly, not caring that the Demon had used it to aid in his escape. For now, he and his cruel mate were gone. The land and all the creatures therein would have a time to heal.

There was a faint stirring in the mist, and Xlana felt no surprise when the Old One appeared with Wrelan and Niall, Red Falcon and Macklin following. It seemed fitting that they should all be together. The Chosen Ones rose, Xlana and Rynak laughing joyously as Macklin rushed forward, his small arms stretched to their limit as he tried to hug them both at once. Through tears, Xlana saw Faustio and Shu’Lan embrace Wrelan, while Niall watched, smiling. Only poor Red Falcon stood aside, and she could feel his fearful anxiety for Shu’Ni like a pain in her heart.

Come, my children, the Old One said. You have done well this day. Gather round, for I have much to tell ye.

She stood on a small rise and the purple haze shimmered around her. The Demon and his mate are gone, vanished in the mists of time. She looked pointedly at Shu’Lan. Child, do you recall some words of mine? Your family is in need of them now.

Shu’Lan gazed at her with parted lips, then a look of wonder crossed her face. Sometimes the future turns to lie beside the past, and the present between them, reaching out to each. Remember this when you lose what you most value.

>

Xlana gasped as the meaning struck her. Red Falcon’s hand leapt to Blood Drinker’s hilt. Be this true, Milady? Be our Shu’Ni alive? Will Oi yet have her as my wife?

The path exists that may lead to that end, the Old One said. And what of Czerick? Xlana cried.

The old woman smiled. Ah, Czerick. There is one who defies even the runes. If there be no road for him, he will pave one, even from the Demon’s lair.

How can we know these paths? Rynak demanded. How do we walk through time? And will they not lead to further wars with the Demon?

The Old One shook her head. That I cannot tell. ‘Tis for you to seek and tread what paths you will, Heaven’s Dragon.

Oi’ll find a way to moi Shu’Ni, war or no war, Red Falcon cried.

And I’ll away with ye, Niall said firmly. I owe Shu’Ni a great debt. Besides, my lassie willna marry me without her sister by.

Shu’Lan looked from the tall Highlander to her daughter. Shu’Ni is with us, she said softly. She laid her hand over Wrelan’s heart. She is here.

Aye. Niall put a hand to his own heart. She is here too, the brave lass. I’ll never forget what she did to save me and the bairns. He caught Wrelan in a hard embrace. What do ye say, my lassie? Will ye marry me this day?

Wrelan blushed, and her voice was husky. Gladly.

The Old One looked at them fondly. Then she turned to Dykstra. Child, cast off the thought that part of you aided the Demon in his escape. There is good reason he could not carry your horn with him into the past. Can you guess it?

Dykstra drew in a sharp breath. Och, but it canna be possible. Is it…? Am I…?

The Old One’s eyes twinkled. I trust you and your mate have room in your home for a small woodsman…or perhaps ‘twill be a daughter.

Pretog bounded into the air with a whoop. A father will I be. He put his arm around Dykstra’s shoulders. Rest you must. At the wedding no carousing must you do.

Och, Pretog, dinna be silly, Dykstra scolded, her blush deeper than Wrelan’s had been. ‘Tis expectant I am, not sick.

Rynak laughed. She is right, brother. My wife has fought a battle while in the same condition.

All turned to stare at him and his mate, and Xlana felt her cheeks burn. Macklin hopped up and down, tugging the Old One’s cloak.

Is it true I will have a new brother? he sang.

That you will, Macklin, the Old One said.

The small boy frowned. How is it that ye know my name? I’ve never met ye afore now. Did Mama and Papa tell ye of me?

The Old One shook her head. That they did not. But I know my children, and my children’s children, and so on down to you, my laddie.

Macklin laughed aloud, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling. I have a mama and a papa. Now I have a great-great-grandmother. And soon I’ll have a brother.

He spun and cannoned into Faustio, who caught him up and whirled him around. Ar, young Macklin, we all have gained much this day. He looked proudly toward Niall and Red Falcon, who stood with Wrelan between them. Shu’Lan and I have two strong sons. Rynak and Xlana have you, my lad, and another like you on the way. And Dykstra and Pretog’s little one be coming-perchance a sweet daughter. By Holy Atlantis, life be not all bad.

The Old One clapped her hands. There is one thing more. Heaven’s Dragon, what do your voices tell you?

Rynak’s expression grew grave and he stood silent. Then he nodded and Xlana felt his thoughts. She pulled his youth horn from her pocket and handed it to him. Shu’Lan took a pearly spiral from the folds of her garment and gave it to Faustio, and Dykstra picked up her horn from the soft bed of heather where it had lain since the Old One’s arrival. One by one, the old woman took the horns and placed them inside her cloak.

Thank you, my children. These, together with one other I have held these many ages, will work a powerful magic. They will ensure peace for a time. For a moment, she was bathed in crystal light and her face held a timeless beauty. Then she was once more an old woman. ‘Twas the ageless power of the horns, Xlana thought.

Come, the elder cried. The villagers mourn their dead and fear the future. News of your victory will give them new heart, and the wedding will cheer them through the heavy days to come.

She raised her arm and the purple mist dissolved. The afternoon was fading into evening, with a soft gray sky reflecting silver off the loch. Xlana wondered how it could possibly be the same day still. It seemed an eternity since they’d faced the Demon in the smoke. As they walked, the villagers crowded round them, crying out for news.

They followed the Old One to the shore of the loch, where Faustio pulled her boat from the reeds. She stood for a moment, facing the crowd, which knelt with one accord as she raised her hands in blessing.

I must leave you now, but your leaders are strong. Rynak, son of The Almighty Dragon, with his wife, Xlana, daughter of The Supreme One, will care for you. Follow them in peace.

Faustio helped her into the boat. She took up the oars and pulled away, skimming like a dragonfly over the water. As Xlana watched, a great shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds, lighting the loch with a golden glory. When the dazzle cleared, the Old One and her boat had vanished, leaving not a ripple in their wake.

Rynak raised his voice, calling out to the crowd. People, our war is won. The Demon has fled. Let us praise the Gods and celebrate a wedding this night under the stars. What do you say?

Aye, the villagers roared. A wedding. A wedding.

They scampered off to find food and drink, and firewood for the cooking, the women clucking and cooing, the menfolk grumbling good-naturedly. A dozen youths, laughing and singing, bore Wrelan and Niall on their shoulders. Red Falcon hoisted Macklin onto his back and trotted after the procession. The Chosen Ones stood watching them fondly, and Xlana felt again the unity of the six. Nothing would part them now, and-the Gods willing-they could face anything, together.

EPILOGUE

>

The Record Keeper gazed pensively at the horns, arranged with such precision on the crystal shelf. At last all four were where they belonged, the pattern complete. And if things were as they should be, the moons were now aligned.

She trod lightly through the stone passages of her sanctuary, glad to be home after her long sojourn in the small wooden hut in the forest. Nowhere but here could she hear the music of the spheres and pen the runes with such clarity. The planets sang to her now as she passed through the oaken door and out into the night. Great swirls of stars dewed the heavens, brilliant against the midnight sky. But they were dim, compared to the four moons that turned the snow peaks around the old castle into a darkly glittering throw of jewels. She nodded contentedly. The moons aligned. For a time, there would be peace. She went inside. A last look at the horns, and she would sleep, knowing that all was well.

The small horn of the Earth Dragon glowed sweetly, pale gold, and innocent as the babe she carried. The Sea Dragon’s was pearly silver, lustrous as the inside of an oyster shell, made strong by the renewed love of his mate. What everyone believed was the Heaven Dragon’s horn burned molten as the sun at midsummer, shining with the light of his coming child. Only she knew the truth and it would be a long time before the horn of The Almighty One would take its proper place. Then Heaven’s Dragon would be revealed and take his place among the deities. But the fourth horn…. She sighed. The horn of the Fire Dragon held an ethereal beauty, its red-gold transparent and fragile as ancient glass. If it were not replenished, and soon….

The astral music sounded in her mind, calling her. She crossed to the table where her journal lay waiting and picked up her quill. The runes flowed swift and dark, scintillating as the pictures formed about her in the air. A young girl quick with child lay near death in a waste of snow.

>

The Record Keeper drew a sharp breath. So, it was coming. Or was it past? She shook her head as she climbed the spiral stairs to her sleeping chamber. She knew all paths from start to end, but she could not say how they would be trod. Or by whom.

>

The End

About the authors of The Dragon’s Horn>

Ellen Edgar grew up among the haunted cottages and castles of England, where her love for tales of romance with just a touch of magic was born. When she married, she moved to the United States, where she lives in Michigan with her husband. Traveling with him to such diverse regions as Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and Arizona’s Sonora Desert, she has found as much enchantment in the New World as in the Old.>

A gypsy at heart, Savannah Michaels has traveled and lived in various locations throughout the United States. For the moment, she is living in Port St. Lucie, Florida. She thanks the heavens for her own hero husband, her two grown children, and her current children: a dog named Kahlua and a cat named Cat (It was her choice).

The union of Ellen and Savannah to become Glynnis Kincaid seems ordained from the start. We literally clicked our way via keyboard into our friendship and subsequently, the co-authoring of The Dragon’s Horn. One email and our kindred spirits knew each other.

The Gunn of Killearnan>> > >

by

Dorice Nelson

>To become chief of his clan, warrior Gerek Gunn, Scotland’s renowned Beast of Battle, must marry a woman not of his own choosing. That’s how things were done-or so he thought, before he met the fiery beauty destined to be his wife.>

Catriona MacFarr had no intention of marrying a man known as the ‘Beast’-he sounded so much like her vicious and savage father that she was horrified. Such a lifelong disaster could not be, no matter the consequences! Never

..

ISBN #1-931696-01-2 (eBook)

ISBN #1-931696-98-5 (Print)

www.novelbooksinc.com/authors/doricenelson>

www.novelbooksinc.com>

www.doricenelson.com>

______________________________________________________________________________> >

Unlawful >by Dorice Nelson> >

Butchery branded their introduction

Enslavement parted them

Thus began the time for bravery or betrayal

and checkmate!

Deadlocked by a cursed legend, Kellach must find her mother to remove a Druid’s Curse and save her people from the rampaging Norse. Bruic the Badger, must find Irish ports for the Norsemen to save his sons and find his lost Irish siblings. Neither had time for love. Fate and circumstance took the advantage away from both

ISBN #1-931696-16-0 (eBook)

ISBN #1-931696-83-7 (Print)

>

www.novelbooksinc.com/authors/doricenelson>

www.novelbooksinc.com>

www.doricenelson.com>

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Forget the white steed…This Prince Charming rides the subway! Two hearts on track for the ride of a lifetime!

Trouble or Nothing by Joanie MacNeil Contemporary>

He was her kid brother’s best friend. And now he’s back in her life

more man than ever.

>

Desert Dreams by Gracie McKeever Paranormal/Suspense>

Old World Evil vs. New Age Passion…Can their love survive?

The Anonymous Amanuensis by Judith Glad Regency>

Regency England is a man’s world, until one woman writes her own rules…

No More Secrets, No More Lies by Marie Roy Contemporary>

Secrets, lies, and consequences. What consequences does Sydney Morgan pay when all secrets are exposed?

The Blood That Binds by Rie Sheridan Fantasy>

In Ancient Days, when elves were king

the legends tell of wondrous things

The Dragon’s Horn by Glynnis Kincaid Fantasy>

Three Dragons. Three Immortals. One Choice. But what will they choose? Will they rescue their loved ones, or fight to redeem the world?

Escape the Past by K. G. McAbee Fantasy>

Can they escape their pasts and find a future in each other’s arms?

The Binding by PhyllisAnn Welsh Fantasy>

He’s an Elf Lord trying to save his people. She’s a fantasy writer trying to save her sanity. Chosen by the gods to rescue an entire race, they first have to save each other.

Dream Knight by Alexis Kaye Lynn Medieval>

Do you believe in the power of dreams?

Allude to Murder by Emma Kennedy Suspense>

Balkan smuggling conspiracy entangles two Americans

Mating Season by Liz Hunter Contemporary>

One lucky sailboat captain + His fetching first mate + Hurricane Season? Mating Season!

Unlawful by Dorice Nelson Medieval >

Butchery tainted their first encounter

Enslavement separated them

Deception and deceit reunited them

Thus began their struggle of courage and conquest

>

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE