The Dragon's Lover Read online

  The mouthful of fangs appeared once more. “Yes,” he rumbled, “then there will be no more light. There will only be a constant stream of darkness from the bowels of the earth.”

  “Hmm,” Raine said with the same unimpressed disinterest as before, a monosyllabic reply that finally pushed the man into fury.

  “You have no idea what you are dealing with,” he spat at her.

  “Oh, I think I do,” she murmured back.

  Lorifal stepped forward. “No wizard is going to use the scales of my people to bring darkness to the world!”

  “He is not a wizard,” Raine said warningly, pulling Lorifal back. But the dwarf's verbal attack and Raine's warning only made the man laugh, laughter that boomed out across the courtyard as the dark robes disappeared into a blinding flash of light. The man transformed into his true form and towered above them, his sinewy neck weaving back and forth.

  Everyone except for Raine and Idonea stepped backward to the edge of the steps. Raine did not step back because she had expected the transformation, and Idonea because she was too stunned to move. Out of everything she had expected, a master wizard, a demi-god, a demon'ai, she had not even considered that another dragon might be waiting for them.

  Raine examined the black scales, the glowing green eyes, and sought for the name in her memory.

  “Ragnar'ante'ilain.”

  The ancient dragon smiled and this time his fangs appeared far more suitable for his fearsome appearance. “You know me,” he hissed with satisfaction.

  “I know of you,” Raine replied. “You have a long history of betrayal.”

  The dragon leaned close and Raine did not flinch from the hot breath. He returned to his earlier conversation. “I thought your death alone would tip the scales, but that has been forbidden me.”

  This comment made Raine far more uneasy than all of his earlier, threatening histrionics. “And why is that?” she asked.

  “I have very special instructions regarding you, little Arlanian.”

  Raine's jaw clenched.

  “I am certain the deaths of your brave comrades will tip the scales sufficiently, and when we are finished here, you will be 'escorted' through those doors. You will not be returning,” he said with false regret. He appeared to ponder her fate. “I almost feel sorry for you, for I am certain you will be used in a most degrading Arlanian fashion.”

  Raine tried to control her anger. She still needed information from the creature and she focused on what he had just revealed.

  “So you are in fact taking instructions from someone.”

  The dragon's jaws snapped shut. He could pay dearly for revealing too much.

  Idonea shifted, unconsciously fingering the artifact in her pocket. The movement caught the dragon's eye and he swung his great head around to her.

  “Oh, that's right,” he said, “I nearly forgot about you. Now your plans, if I'm not mistaken, were to steal my power with that little gem you have in your pocket.”

  Idonea seemed to shrink in size and moved closer to Raine. It had seemed like a good plan when she had expected a powerful mage or wizard. But she was not certain even the white Elkar'Anon was powerful enough to absorb the soul of an ancient dragon, and even if it was, she could not think of any way to use it now that the dragon knew that she had it.

  “I thought to kill you like all the rest,” the dragon said, “but now I think I will take your little toy and use it on you. There is something remarkable about you, something you yourself take for granted and do not appreciate. But I will be happy to take that power from you.”

  Against her will, Idonea found herself removing the soul catcher from her pocket. It was a beautiful crystal, pure white and shining with some type of light from within. She held it at eye level, gazing longingly at the artifact held by a limb which she no longer had any control over. The black dragon leaned forward, towering over her. He admired the amulet.

  “So it is Elkar'Anon,” he said with pleasure. “I thought it no longer existed. You will give it to me, then I will take your life force as you sought to take mine.”

  Idonea fought for control. She did not hand the amulet to the dragon, but nor could she pull it back towards her. It hovered between them.

  “Give it to me,” he said, enjoying her resistance because he knew he would prevail. His influence caused the soul catcher to inch towards him, but Idonea fought to bring it back, struggling mightily against his control.

  “No,” she said through gritted teeth, the strain on her face obvious.

  “You cannot resist, foolish little mage,” the dragon said, “Now give it to me or I will take it.”

  “Oh this is ridiculous,” Raine said with impatience. “Idonea, give it to me.”

  Raine snatched the amulet from Idonea's hand, then tossed it to the dragon. “If you want her soul, it's yours.”

  “Raine!” Feyden and Dagna exclaimed simultaneously, stunned.

  “No!” Idonea cried as the dragon caught the white crystal. The move startled him but he laughed at the betrayal by the Arlanian. This was the point where allegiances often failed and the panic and shock in the mage's eyes did his black heart good. He raised the crystal to Idonea, preparing to absorb her life force, and she cringed from him. He pointed the soul catcher directly at her.

  And nothing happened.

  Raine gazed at him, arms crossed over her chest, a look of mild contempt on her features. Her eyes were a very cool blue.

  “Oh that's right,” she said, “it doesn't work anymore.”

  The dragon stared at the soul catcher in disbelief, shaking it as if to make something happen. The self-illumination of the artifact was gone and it looked to be nothing more than an ordinary crystal, albeit a very pretty one.

  “What did you do?” the black dragon demanded.

  “I don't know what you're talking about,” Raine said mildly.

  But Idonea knew exactly what she had done. The minute she had touched Elkar'Anon, the enchanted item's magical properties disappeared. Raine had saved her by destroying the soul catcher. She stared at the other woman wordlessly.

  “Sorry I broke your toy,” Raine said, no apology evident in her voice. She kicked a stone that clattered across the great platform. “I was actually hoping that would work. Did you have some secondary plan?”

  Idonea shook her head, still mute. How this woman could remain so calm under their current circumstances was beyond belief. Although the destruction of Elkar'Anon had stopped the downward descent of the ebony platform of the great scales, that had merely slackened the chain. The dragon concentrated forcefully to keep the gates open, and the unending stream of Hyr'rok'kin slowly put tension on the chain once more. The army was massing at the base of the stairs of the altar.

  “No alternate plan, eh?” Raine asked. She glanced down at the horde. “Well, then it's a good thing your mother is here.”

  Idonea had never been so pleased to hear those words in her life. And while the others and the black dragon sought to comprehend this most arbitrary statement, their effort was interrupted by a thunderous roar that split the very air of the courtyard. The horrific noise made the Hyr'rok'kin tremble as the sound of leathery wings swooped down over them. A blast of fire incinerated a swathe of them before they could see their attacker, and the bodies piled up in front of the great gate, slowing their egress.

  The mouths of the small band gaped as a magnificent red dragon wheeled over the Hyr'rok'kin army. The creature was terrifying, yet somehow seemed to be on their side. The monster skimmed down over the Shards, razor-sharp talons strafing all below.

  “Isn't she gorgeous?” Raine murmured to Idonea, and even under the circumstances, Idonea rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, yes, whatever,” she said, regaining the senses that had fled when she thought her life was over. She felt the urge to rush down and join the fight, but Raine was keeping her eye on the black dragon, who seemed too stunned to react at the moment.

  Weynild wheeled about again, then hov
ered above the great scales. Golden eyes assessed the contraption. Great leather wings lifted her upwards, then she went into a steep dive at a sharp angle into the support of the platform. The impact of the gigantic creature with the marble pillar shook the ground, throwing nearly the entire Hyr'rok'kin army to the ground. Elyara and Dagna went down, as did Gunnar and Bristol. Feyden fell against Lorifal, who barely maintained his feet. Raine went to one knee, catching Idonea and keeping her from tumbling down the stairs. A crack appeared in the pillar supporting the scales.

  “No!” the black dragon screamed in fury, knowing he was too far away to prevent the inevitable.

  Weynild shook off the impact and regained altitude with a few thrusts of her mighty wings. She went into another steep dive at an even greater speed, and this impact was deafening. Any one left standing was thrown to the ground and even Raine went to both knees. The crack widened and the chains were broken. Although magically constructed, they had been fashioned with physical materials and the enormous links fell on the Hyr'rok'kin below, crushing everything beneath them. The great scale began to slide off the support pillar and once reaching a critical point, broke in two and crumbled downward. The platforms went down in a huge cloud of dust and debris, smashing everything below.

  “By my ancestors,” Lorifal said in disbelief. He did not think the destruction of the great scales was possible. The magnificent red dragon again shook off the impact and headed their way. The enormous creature hovered above their heads, glaring menacingly at the black dragon.

  “Talan,” the black dragon hissed.

  “Ragnar,” Weynild said with contempt, “I should have known that you were behind this. Out of all the ancients, you always were the most willing to involve yourself in petty affairs.”

  “Not so petty,” the black dragon replied. He nodded to the great gate. “You may have destroyed the scales, but the door is already opened wide.”

  Weynild turned her great head towards the gates. The Hyr'rok'kin were using the bodies of their fallen comrades as a ramp, and now were coming through the doors four abreast. Their numbers were increasing astronomically and they now flooded the courtyard. Hell hounds and Marrow Shards were starting to come through the opening as well, and the mass began to creep up the stairs of the altar. Lorifal drew his ax, and Gunnar and Bristol their swords. Dagna drew her sword, still leaning upon Elyara. Feyden notched an arrow in his bow, looking to Raine for guidance. Raine gazed up at the red dragon, who gazed down at her with glowing gold eyes.

  “You must shut the gates,” Raine said.

  Weynild knew this to be true. She must stop the Hyr'rok'kin at their source, and she was the only one capable of shutting the gates. It would be difficult even without Ragnar's attempts to hold them open.

  “And you?” Weynild asked.

  Raine smiled her wickedly mischievous smile, the one Weynild loved more than all the world.

  “I've got this,” she said, nodding towards the black dragon.

  Weynild roared her approval and spun about in an acrobatic maneuver, heading towards the gates as Raine turned back to the black dragon.

  Ragnar coughed his amused contempt. Although he was exerting tremendous effort to keep the gates opened, the effort was lessening as more Hyr'rok'kin came through. And it would require little effort to defeat the band of tiny cretins in front of him.

  “Raine?” Feyden asked. The question did not need to be articulated. The Hyr'rok'kin were seeping up the stairs towards them and they were surrounded. And with all her skill, he did not possibly see how she could defeat an ancient dragon. Reaper Shards and Marrow Shards were one thing, one of the ancients, entirely another. He did not know whether to train his bow on the dragon or on the approaching Hyr'rok'kin, so he alternated between the two. Lorifal stood at his shoulder, his ax wavering with the same indecision and anticipation. Dagna assessed the situation a little sadly; she did not see how they would survive this. Elyara clutched her staff in her hands, bravely raising herself to her full height. Bristol and Gunnar turned to the Hyr'rok'kin, knowing they could do nothing against the dragon.

  “Raine,” Idonea said, “you of all people know you cannot defeat him.”

  Raine smiled, a look of fierce joy on her face. “And you of all people,” she replied, “should know me better than that.” She turned to the black dragon, drawing one of her double swords.

  The dragon laughed, an awful snort of derision. He towered above her as she approached, his sinewy neck snaking down towards her. Oddly, as she approached, she was removing her armor, shedding clothing as she neared.

  “Are you going to seduce me, little Arlanian?”

  Raine was dressed now only in boots, breeches and a short-sleeved leather jerkin. She drew her other sword now that her hands were free. She allowed her eyes to go to their native deep violet and the dragon was taken aback. The beauty of this race was not exaggerated. He knew now why his Mistress had given him the orders she be captured alive. He was a little saddened to think that might not be possible, not because he was not capable of taking her alive, but because he no longer wished to if he could not possess her himself.

  “Not exactly,” Raine said, responding to the suggested seduction. “You're really not my type.”

  Somehow this obscure response was perfectly interpreted by the dragon. He looked to the red dragon that was hovering before the great gates, her powerful hind limbs holding the doors and her wings beating the air in an effort to keep them from opening further.

  “You are Talan's lover!” he exclaimed.

  “I don't see how that's any of your business,” Raine said, swinging her swords as if she were warming up.

  As dreadful and hopeless as their situation was, the proclamation and failure to deny it caught Dagna's attention as well as her imagination. She leaned towards Idonea.

  “Did he just say what I think he said?”

  “Shut up,” Idonea said, exasperated.

  “I am not sure how an Arlanian could survive the attentions of an Ancient One,” Ragnar said, “your parents must have been quite hardy.”

  “You have no idea,” Raine said, her eyes darkening to almost black. It was rare for her eyes to remain purple while preparing for battle, but perhaps it was due to the fact that her emotions were running so high at the moment. She swung one sword with a vicious motion, carving an imaginary enemy to pieces. The dragon was actually beginning to feel uneasy.

  “You see, I am only half Arlanian,” Raine said casually, whipping the second sword around with blinding speed. “Something I understand is exceedingly rare.”

  Although the eyes of the others were fully on the nearing Hyr'rok'kin, they strained to catch the conversation between Raine and the dragon. Idonea clutched her staff, preparing to unleash fire on the approaching horde, but she, too, was fully absorbed in the conversation taking place behind her.

  “Really?” the dragon responded. “Let me guess, the other half of you is demi-god.”

  It had been a sarcastic comment, an allusion to her fighting abilities even if a derisive one. But the amused look on the Arlanian's face and the glower in those purple eyes made the dragon even more uneasy.

  “No,” she said calmly, “something far more dangerous than that.”

  And as she spoke the words, Raine outstretched both arms, no longer attempting to hide anything. The intricate blue and gold markings rose to the surface of her skin, the unmistakable filigree of a tortuously painful ceremony, one attempted and survived by only one race in all of time. None present had ever seen such markings other than in ancient texts.

  None except the dragon standing in front of Raine.

  “You are Scinterian,” the dragon said, exhaling in disbelief.

  “And you are old enough to have seen these markings before,” Raine replied. “Old enough to remember why the Scinterians became the dragon's ultimate ally.”

  The black dragon's jaw slammed shut with tremendous force and his fangs ground upon one another. Raine smiled as if
the two of them were sharing some inside joke, then gazed at him with pale blue eyes beneath lowered brows.

  “Because before the Scinterians were the dragons' ultimate allies, they were the ultimate dragon slayers.”

  No sooner were the words from her mouth than Raine leaped toward the dragon. He attempted to take flight but she was upon his neck, one sword impaled in the soft skin between the scales. She used this sword to hold on as the head writhed about like a serpent, the great jaws snapping at her. The black dragon began to launch himself skyward but Raine swung again, this time slicing the tendon on the back of his leg, crippling his ability to leap. Without sufficient height, he was unable to flap his swings to their full extent nor gain any altitude. He skimmed along the platform before crashing downward while Raine still clung to the impaled sword. With a great wrenching motion, she yanked the sword from his flesh and went for his heart. He lunged sideways, and although she was able to cling to his neck, her sword deflected off the great bony plate protecting his chest. The sideways lunge sent them both tumbling down the stairs, taking out a column of the advancing Hyr'rok'kin who scattered panicked in every direction.

  Raine was barely able to avoid being crushed by the tumbling dragon and it was only her incredible strength that kept her grip on his thrashing neck. She had lost her swords to maintain her grip and now pulled a dagger from her belt, feeling the blood pulse beneath her. There was a gigantic vein throbbing beneath her leg and with unerring accuracy, she jabbed the dagger between two scales to find the monster's jugular. Blood began to spray from the wound, not a killing blow, but one that would weaken.

  They had tumbled all the way to bottom of the steps and the wounded dragon was whipping his tail about in rage and agony, doing damage to the Hyr'rok'kin and none to Raine. She had lost the rest of her weapons in her prolonged fall and now was unarmed, so she turned to a nearby Shard who looked at her dumbly. She smashed him in the head with a downward fist and took his ax from him. She hurled the ax at the dragon, her target the other leg, and again her accuracy was unerring. The ax sliced through the tendon, hobbling the monster completely. His thrashing became frenzied and blood sprayed in every direction. He also began breathing fire from his lungs now that Raine was no longer attached to his neck and was a viable target, or at least would have been were she not dodging the flames.