Chapter 7

7

I sucked in a sharp breath and resisted the urge to deepen the connection and force them away from both the living and the dead. Aside from the fact there was very little reasoning with any animal in such a manic state, it was also very dangerous. Even the strongest mind could be swept away by a tide of bloody lust.

I’d never seen it happen, but there were stories, and they never ended well.

I clenched my fingers around the receiving stone. Three beats remained, even if one was rapidly fading. There was hope yet.

“There’re at least eight olm in the junction up ahead,” I said grimly. “This tunnel remains single file until we near that junction, and there’s no way we can get around them from here.”

“What about the junction itself?” Damon asked. “Is there anything that might provide cover for those people or us?”

I hesitated. “We’ve had a few tremors recently, so it could have changed since I was last here, but overall, it’s tear-shaped, with an exit at the point to our left and another directly opposite. A partial shelf that’s five or so feet off the ground runs along the wall between our tunnel and the one opposite, but otherwise, it’s relatively flat.”

“A five-foot-high shelf won’t give those soldiers much protection.”

No, it certainly wouldn’t. An olm could leap twice that height without any effort at all.

“If they are in a feeding frenzy,” Kele said grimly, “at least they won’t notice us until we start burning their asses.”

I glanced at her. “Which we can only do if they’re not close to our people.”

“If those men are close enough to be burned, they’re probably already olm food and way beyond caring.”

A truth I didn’t want to think about. I once again glanced down at the stone still in my hand. “We’ve three still alive, but we’ll need to move fast.”

Damon unsheathed his sword, the blade a deep blue stone. The Blue Steel Mountains were the only place in Arleeon producing stone of that color, and while it was prized for its strength and imperviousness to weather, it was also extremely difficult to mine. Few went to the bother, though I knew Zephrine often used it for spears. This was the first time I’d seen a sword made of the stuff, though.

But then, he was Zephrine’s heir, so it made sense that he had the best weaponry available.

“If we split up,” he said, motioning with his blade to the junction ahead, “it’ll give us the best chance.”

I nodded. “I’ll go right, and Kele can go left, which should give us better flame coverage.”

“Meaning I’m straight down the middle.” He glanced at me then added, the seriousness in his expression blunted by the wicked glimmer in his bright eyes, “Please do resist the temptation to ‘accidently’ cinder the unwanted husband in crossfire.”

“You have absolutely nothing to fear from my flames.” Amusement danced through me, but I managed to keep my tone serious. “Unless, of course, you do not live up to a certain... shall we say energetic?... reputation.”

“What the whispers actually say,” Kele corrected blandly, “is that he has great stamina and ardor in the bedroom—and that is definitely a good thing. It’s all well and good being energetic but a certain amount of intensity and passion is required for a truly great experience.”

“The gossips in Esan definitely have sharper ears than those of Zephrine,” Damon said, tone dry. “But I’m relieved they apparently approve of my bedroom endeavors.”

“I shall also point out that if it is just bedroom endeavors, our girl will be disappointed.”

I rolled my eyes at Kele, then glanced at Damon. “Ready to go?”

“Always.”

He obviously wasn’t referring to the task at hand, given that wicked glint, but I let it slide. Save our people first, drakkons second. If we survived all that, then maybe we could get down to that much needed discussion about what we both wanted—or expected—from this marriage.

Or, better yet, just do what Kele had originally suggested and ride each other senseless.

My hormones were currently leaning toward the latter option. No surprise there, given how little sex there’d been in the lead-up to the marriage.

I tucked the receiver away, then drew my sword and padded forward. The noise up ahead sharpened with every step, changing from a confused babble to something more definable—soft growls, teeth snapping, flesh and cloth tearing, the clang of metal hitting stone. And, ever so faintly, the occasional whimper.

The last had my stomach churning. I had no doubt it belonged to that fast-fading third pulse in the stone. If we didn’t get in there soon, he or she would die.

But if we hurried, we could die. The dagger-sharp rocks between the two blue veins were ready and waiting for the slightest slip, and the ground underfoot remained slick.

The tunnel widened as we neared the cross point. I paused, slipped my packs from my shoulders, then held up a hand and slowly counted down on my fingers.

When the last one dropped, we moved in as one.

I called to my flames and ran right. Saw, in swift succession, a man and a woman on the platform, braced against its rear wall, and two olm pacing underneath them; three more olm were in the middle of the junction, tearing into the two bodies lying there, while another paced back and forth just beyond the sword reach of the man sitting next to the other exit. His back was pressed against the wall, and his legs were a shredded, mangled mess.

Six olm. Where were the other two...?

A faint stirring of air across the back of my neck gave me a heartbeat’s warning.

I spun, saw two in the air, their razor-sharp teeth bared and blind eyes pinpointing me with surprising accuracy. I flung a noose of fire, caught the first one around its neck and threw it hard back into the tunnel, then jumped sideways and raised my sword, bringing it down onto the second creature’s snout, severing a good portion of its mouth and a chunk of tongue in the process. It hit the ground on all fours and shook its head, spraying thick drops of blood and flesh through the air, its roars of pain and fury filling the air. Then it leapt at me again, its speed frightening. I swung the sword, but it somehow twisted away from the blade and lashed out with its claws. They skittered across my right arm, slicing through leather but not into flesh. It had barely hit the ground when it lunged at me again. I quickly backed away, fashioned my flames into a rope, and flicked the lasso toward it. It settled around the creature’s neck, and I snapped it tight—not to kill, because the scales on these things were as thick as a drakkon’s, and it took more than an instant to burn, but to control. I swung it around, gathering momentum, then released the rope and threw it against the nearby wall with as much force as I could muster. Bones crunched, and fire now crawled over the length of its body, but it didn’t seem to care. It simply struggled to its feet and leapt again.

I stood my ground until the very last moment, then jumped out of its way and swept my sword along its body, severing limbs and slicing open the entire length of its barrel. It hit the ground and stumbled forward, its insides spilling onto the stone underneath.

And still the bastard wouldn’t die.

I sucked in a breath, created another leash, and once again whipped it against the nearest rock face. This time, it didn’t get up.

One down, several more to go....

The thought had barely crossed my mind when something hit me from behind and sent me sprawling forward. Teeth tore into my shoulder, while needle-sharp nails scraped frantically at my leathers, as if desperate to reach the flesh that lay underneath.

I bit down hard on the scream that rolled up my throat and went full flame, directing every scrap of heat and fury that remained within me into the heavy creature hanging off my shoulder. It was cindered from my flesh in an instant, but I nevertheless kept the flames alive, chasing its ash down to the ground, just to be sure. Then I drew the flames back into my body, cauterizing the wound in the process.

Cauterizing wasn’t healing, however, and Vahree only knew how badly it hurt.

I sucked in another, somewhat quivery breath, caught the sound of sharp nails on stone, and spun. The two olm who’d been pacing the base of the shelf were now coming straight at me. I threw up a hand and unleashed a wall of flame. Pain flicked through my brain, but I knew it was a result of tiredness more than lack of strength. I was a long way from running out of “juice”.

The threat of fire stopped one. The other simply ran around it. I raised my sword, but before I could cleave the creature in two, it was caught in a rope of flame and smashed upward against the roof with such force that its head shattered and brain matter exploded.

Kele, her timing as impeccable as ever.

Another olm had leapt up onto the ledge and was now charging at the two people standing there. As the woman raised her sword, I threw mine; it pierced the olm’s chest with enough force to throw it sideways and pin it to the wall. The woman then plunged her blade down through the base of the creature’s neck, killing it in an instant. I called more flames to my hand and turned, just in time to see Damon kill the last of the three olm who’d been devouring the dead. Another two lay between him and the junction’s second exit, one burned, the other missing limbs and a head. Kele now knelt beside the wounded soldier, a medikit—not hers—on the ground beside her. She, thankfully, appeared unhurt.

My gaze returned to Damon. There was a cut on his forearm and a graze on his chin, but neither appeared bad. We’d been lucky. If the olm hadn’t been in a feeding frenzy incited by the blood of their victims, it might have turned out very different. They generally hunted in packs and were very canny fighters.

The woman standing on the ledge pulled my sword free from the creature’s body and handed it to me hilt first. Then she straightened and saluted. The large cut running down the side of her face bled profusely, her short blonde hair was matted and stringy with sweat, and her blue eyes narrowed with pain even though little of it reached her expression.

I knew her, I realized. She’d been in my team for a few years as a base soldier before being promoted to scout with another team. I returned her salute. “Good to see you, Suzi.”

“Good to still be here, Captain.”

It was wryly said, and I smiled. “What happened?”

“We hit a barrier of some kind in the tunnel running up to the Beak—literally, in Randel’s case.” She pointed toward the man Kele was looking after. “It flung him back onto the damn spikes and shredded his legs.”

“You couldn’t get around it?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a physical barrier, more a magical one, though I’m no expert in such things. We were coming back here to take the longer route when the damn olm attacked.”

“They obviously caught the scent of blood,” the soldier standing beside her said. “We’d bound Randel’s wounds and stopped the bleeding, of course, but it doesn’t take much to attract them bastards.”

No, it didn’t. “How badly are you both wounded?”

Suzi now had a hand pressed against the dark stain on her side, and her partner had a palm-sized chunk of flesh flapping at his left thigh. While both were at least upright, I doubted either would be walking very far. Or at least, not far enough to get out of these tunnels before more olm appeared.

“We’re mobile, Captain, but I doubt Randel will be.”

“Definitely not” came Kele’s response. “The spikes might have shredded flesh and muscle, but the olm have broken bones.”

I met her gaze. Though she didn’t say anything, her expression told me everything I needed to know. Even if we could carry Randel, he wouldn’t survive the trip out of the tubes, let alone down the mountain. Not without proper medical help. One look at his gray, sweating features was enough to confirm that.

I returned my attention to Suzi. “How far up that tunnel did you hit the barrier?”

She hesitated and glanced at the other soldier. He wrinkled his nose and said, “Maybe a quarter of a mile?”

A quarter of a mile should give us some scribe coverage... I frowned. “Why didn’t you scribe for help when the accident first happened? Was there no coverage there?”

“We would have, but Randel was carrying the scribe and quill in his pack, and it was shattered when he hit the rocks.”

“Which is probably the only reason he’s still alive,” the other soldier added. “The force of the impact should have broken his spine, but his pack took the brunt of it.”

“It would seem Vahree wasn’t yet ready for his soul,” Suzi added.

I wasn’t so sure of that, given Randel’s current state, but I simply nodded. “I’ll head there and make the call?—”

“Not alone, Captain,” Damon said. “It’s too dangerous, given we have no idea who or what made that barrier.”

I glanced at him, nodding imperceptibly at his use of my military title. It was appreciated, even if not necessary in his case. “What we can’t do is leave these soldiers without protection. Between you and Kele?—”

“You forget what I am,” he cut in again. “I can raise a protective barrier using the blood of the olms to enhance its strength. With Kele stationed here, you and I can head into that tunnel, make the call, and then investigate the barrier.”

I hesitated, if only briefly. It was a practical move under the circumstances. “How long will the protective barrier last? It’s going to take at least four hours for assistance to get here.”

And whether even that would be fast enough to save Randel was debatable.

“The blood of two olms should create a six-hour protection period. If we restrict the area needing coverage—using the wall behind Randel as the base—to a semi-circle around our survivors, it should give us an hour or so longer.”

“Do it.” I offered Suzi a hand. “Let’s get you two off that ledge and over to Kele. She’ll be able to treat those wounds you’re not mentioning.”

“She’s a trained medic?” the soldier asked.

“No, first aider.” Every company had at least two soldiers trained in field treatment; recon teams generally had one.

Suzi grimaced. “Harri was ours. Poor bastard was the first one hit.”

She took my hand and carefully eased herself off the edge. Though she didn’t say anything, fresh blood seeped past the fingers pressing against her right side. I suspected the tightness of her leathers was the only thing currently preventing her from bleeding to death.

The other soldier waved my offer of assistance away, eased down, and then limped over to the dead. “We can’t leave them here, Captain. Not like this. Aside from the fact they’ll only attract more olm, I can’t?—”

He stopped and shrugged, but there was fury and deep agony in his eyes and expression. One of the dead had meant something to him, that much was obvious.

But moving them would be next to impossible. Very little remained of their leathers or their flesh, and what did simply wouldn’t be enough to hold their bodies together.

“I’m sorry, soldier.” My voice was flat, though my heart ached for him. “But they’re already at Vahree’s gates, and care not for what happens to their flesh now. Our main priority now has to be the living.”

“Can you at least burn them? That would surely be a more fitting end for them than being torn apart any further.”

Suzi lightly touched his arm. “Their bodies are the only reason we’re alive now, Jace, and we both know it. If the captain ashes them, it will simply mean the olm will return their attention to us.” She glanced down at the bodies and then added softly, “Mills would understand our choices, believe me.”

Jace didn’t say anything for a long moment, then nodded and continued on toward Kele. As Suzi followed, I returned to the entry tunnel and collected our packs. After dropping them in the middle of the junction, I walked over to Damon. He was collecting the blood of the olm Kele had smashed against the ceiling in one of the empty vessels he’d brought along.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He glanced up, his eyes dancing with a power that gave his irises a bloody hue. He might not have called to the magic that ran through his veins as yet, but it was nevertheless there to be seen in his gaze.

“You can cut a semicircle into the stone around our group. We need to give them a physical indication of the barrier’s location, and your sword will do it easier than mine.”

I nodded, drew my sword, and walked back. Kele met me halfway and picked up her pack. “That soldier has lost a lot of blood and muscle,” she murmured. “Even if he does make it, he may never walk again.”

I touched her arm. “Do what you can to keep him going until the healers get here.”

She frowned. “I’m not staying?—”

“You have to. You’re the only trained first aider here.”

“But—”

“Suzi and Jace are also injured. I need you here to keep an eye on things until we get back.”

She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I do not agree with this decision.”

A grin broke free. “You never do when it means you being left out of the action for even the most practical of reasons.”

“Truth.” She sniffed. “As long as I get to see the drakkling, I won’t complain.”

“Oh, you will, and we both know it,” I said dryly. “I will just ignore as per usual.”

“Another truth.”

With a smile, she turned and walked back to her patients. I moved over to the exit near the tear’s sharp point and stopped, mentally “feeling” for any more olm. None were close, but that didn’t mean much, given how fast they could move. The scent of blood and death might take a while to filter into the deeper tunnels, but they would eventually scent it. And to them, meat was meat; it wouldn’t matter if the bulk of that scent belonged to their own kind.

I stepped closer to the edge of the exit and placed the tip of my sword against the hard stone of the floor. The Ithican blade had as little trouble biting through stone as it did flesh, and in very little time, I’d carved out a fine, semicircular line around Kele and the recon team.

Damon finished siphoning a second olm, then walked over and stopped beside me. “That line marks the no-crossing zone. If any of you step beyond it, the protective curtain will fall.”

“Will the olm be able to break through?” Suzi asked, doubt evident. “They’re tenacious enough to keep battering at it, and no magic lasts forever.”

“No, it doesn’t, but this spell should give you a good seven or so hours, as long as no one breaks the seal.”

“What about the rescue party?” Jace said.

“They won’t get in unless you step out. Creating a complete barrier is faster and easier than creating one with exceptions.”

“And if the barrier starts fading before rescue gets here?” Kele asked.

“We should be back by then,” I replied. “But if we’re not, well, flame for as long as you can and don’t get dead.”

She smiled and lightly saluted. “Sound advice, Captain.”

I stepped back and motioned Damon to proceed. He drew in a deeper breath, then slowly released it. The bloody glow in his eyes sharpened, and the air around him briefly shimmered and pulsed.

He walked over to where I’d started my line, pushed up his left shirt sleeve, then began to spell, his voice taking on a deeper, softer note that vibrated through my entire being. I didn’t understand a word he was saying—the language sounded Angolan, which made sense, given that’s where his mom and her kin were from—but his phrasing was older and far more formal. It was also hauntingly, almost heartbreakingly, beautiful.

He raised the water flask and slowly walked forward, continuing to spell as he dribbled blood with surprising precision onto my line. With every step, every drop, the power in the air grew, making the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck rise even if the only visible indication of the curtain he was building was the faintest shimmer that briefly appeared after each drop hit the stone.

When he reached the other side, he dropped the flask onto the ground behind him, then unsheathed his knife, raised his left wrist, and sliced it open.

I barely contained my gasp. I knew he was a blood mage. I just hadn’t expected him to use his own when he was already using olm.

He turned his wrist around and let the blood fall onto that of the olms. The melodious spell briefly rose in tempo, then stopped with an abruptness that had my breath catching in my throat. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, then a faint stream of scarlet rose from the point where his blood had smothered the olms’. The smoke thickened as it raced back along the line and fused the droplets together. When the smoke hit the far side, there was a short, soft explosion. The blood along the entire length of my trench turned black, and that faint shimmer disappeared.

Damon pulled down his sleeve and glanced at me. His eyes were once again blue, though their whites remained stained pink. “The barrier is raised. We’re good to go.”

“If it exists, why can’t we see it?” Jace asked, expression a weird mix of doubt and fear.

Understandable given there hadn’t been a blood witch in Esan for decades—at least, not as far as anyone knew—and this was a new experience for us all.

Damon shrugged. “It is the nature of the spell and the reason I asked for the stone to be marked. Captain, we should get moving.”

I nodded and glanced past him, my gaze briefly meeting Kele’s. There was fear in her eyes, though I doubted it had anything to do with the man or his magic.

“Be careful,” she silently mouthed.

I acknowledged her plea with a slight nod, then spun, collected my packs, and walked into the other tunnel.

Once we were far enough away from the others, I stopped and turned. “Show me your wrist.”

He raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless held out his arm and pushed up his bloody sleeve. His skin from wrist to elbow bore a multitude of faint scars, but there was no sign of a fresh wound.

I ran my finger across the many cuts decorating his dark skin. Felt the slight jump in his pulse and its echo in my own. I swallowed and looked up. Caught the flick of desire through his still-bloody gaze before coolness replaced it.

“How is that even possible?”

He shrugged. “It is part of the magic—and not, I’m guessing, dissimilar to your own ability to cauterize a wound.”

“Cauterization seals and disinfects. It doesn’t heal and, let me assure you, it still hurts.”

“Then why didn’t you ask Kele for a pain dampener?”

“Because those three soldiers needed them far more than me.”

He smiled, caught my fingers, and raised them to his lips. His kiss felt like a brand. Felt like home. Which was utterly ridiculous given how little I really knew about the man.

“Even a commander is entitled to pain relief, Bryn. Especially when a clear head is needed.”

“A clear head is the other reason I didn’t take a potion. They can affect the speed of your reactions in dangerous situations.” I drew my hand from his, but couldn’t help instinctively curling my fingers to retain the heat of his touch. “In case you haven’t noticed, we are in the middle of one such situation.”

He raised that eyebrow again. It was a very expressive eyebrow, I decided, conveying all manner of emotions in one elegant movement. This time, it was amused disbelief. “Would you expect such stoicism from the people under your command?”

“No, but they do expect it of me.” Because I was a princess and it had taken me far longer than most new recruits to win respect. I wasn’t about to risk its loss by taking a potion that could affect my judgment and endanger the lives of others.

I turned and continued on. He followed, a big warm presence I was far too attuned to.

Every five minutes I tried to scribe, but the connection remained nonexistent.

“If this barrier is magic,” I said, after the fifth such attempt, “will you be able to sense it before we hit it?”

“It will depend on its type and construction. I’m not, for instance, able to sense Mareritt magic.”

“Well, that’s damnably inconvenient.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Why not?”

“Their mages pull on their own life energy—the electricity of the body, if you will—and that of their land, rather than their blood. It’s hard to differentiate between the magic that comes from the energy of the land and that which they call from within.”

“Fascinating.”

“You’d be one of the few who think so,” he said, tone dry. “Most find the subject... tedious, at best.”

“I’m not most people.”

“That has become increasingly evident over the last few days.”

I glanced over my shoulder again. “Is this a good thing or bad?”

“Oh, definitely good. I suspect life will never be boring while you’re in it.”

“While I’m in it?” Amusement twitched my lips. “You planning to get rid of me at some point in the future?”

“Were you not the one who claimed only a few hours ago to be uncertain as to what to do with me?”

“Oh, I know what to do with you,” I said lightly. “I’m just not sure it’s wise. I mean, there’s the previously mentioned reputation to consider, and I, well, I’m a lowly soldier who will probably never live up to certain expectations for very long.”

His laugh was soft and warm and rolled across my skin as sweetly as any summer breeze. “With what already lies between us, I believe said expectations will be well and truly blown out of the water. Whether it will retain enough heat to last is another matter entirely, and something only time and proximity can answer.”

“Proximity being code for madly passionate sex?”

“More day-to-day living, but I can certainly live with a relationship being based on nothing more than madly passionate sex.”

“At least for a few years,” I agreed.

His warm laugh teased my senses again and had my hormones dancing. “Sounds like I’m going to need to keep my strength up. Want to try scribing again?”

I did, and this time, the pen lit up to indicate there was a viable connection present. I quickly detailed what had happened, then emphasized the urgent need for medical assistance. At the end, I told them Damon and I were continuing on to the Beak.

Stay wary came the response a few minutes later. Keep in contact.

Once I’d signed off and had tucked everything back into the pack, we walked on. This section of the tube hadn’t suffered as badly in the tremors, so we were able to move at a fairly good clip.

We were almost at the quarter mile point when Kaia said, Stop , her warning so loud my brain just about rattled.

I immediately did so and said, What is it? even as Damon asked, “Something wrong?”

His gaze scanned the tube ahead, and his hand was on his sword, but there was nothing to see—nothing beyond the blue veins and the wickedly pointed rocks jutting out between the two strips of pale light.

Magic , she said. Ahead.

Surprise flitted through me. You can feel it?

See through you.

How?

She did the mental equivalent of a shrug. Why matter?

I guess it didn’t. I glanced at Damon. “Kaia says the barrier the recon team mentioned lies just ahead.”

He tugged the light tube from his pack, then raised the light and shone it directly ahead. “There’s absolutely nothing to indicate that.”

“Should there be?”

He grimaced. “Depends on the practitioner, but generally, when it comes to barriers it’s best to pin the magic onto something solid. It prevents a strong wind from causing the spell to wander about randomly.”

My eyebrows shot upward. “And has that ever happened?”

“All the time.” His serious expression was undone by the twinkle in his eyes, and I nudged him lightly. He laughed. “Unpinned magic is harder to raise. It can be done, but it’s easier if there’s a foundation.”

“I wouldn’t call blood a solid foundation.”

“Then you’d be wrong. How far ahead is she talking?”

I relayed the question.

She hesitated. Half one wing .

I did the mental gymnastics—math was never my strong point. “A little over thirty-five feet.”

“Let’s move closer, then, and see what happens.”

“If I hit that barrier and get flung into razor rocks, I’m not going to be a happy soldier.”

“I suspect my bigger worry will be your unhappy drakkon.”

“She’s not mine?—”

You kin came Kaia’s reply. Belong .

It would appear that having connected our minds on a deeper level than we had previously, there was now no stopping it—something that had never happened before with any other animal. But having her in my head, watching everything I did and hearing everything I said, was going to take some getting used to.

Warn me if we get too close.

Should stop. Safer.

Safer doesn’t get us through that barrier. Safer won’t find us the gilded ones.

She mentally sniffed. It was a very unimpressed sound.

I grinned and returned my attention to Damon. “She’ll warn us when we’re close.”

“Good.”

He shone his light on the ground, no doubt looking for the pins he’d mentioned. I followed, studying the tunnel ahead but still not seeing anything untoward. Then the edge of Damon’s light caught a slight flutter. I touched his arm, and he immediately stopped, his muscles tensing briefly under my fingers.

“Point the light left—there’s something there.”

That something turned out to be a thin strip of leather coated with a black substance. Dried blood. This must be where Randel had hit the rocks after being thrown by the barrier. It had to be just up ahead, and yet there remained no sign.

I edged on cautiously, but had barely gone a dozen more steps when Kaia snapped, Stop .

Damon bent, picked up a loose, fist-sized stone, and tossed it. Four feet in front of us, something flashed, and the stone rebounded with such force it could have caused serious injuries if it had hit our heads or limbs.

“It’s odd that I can’t see or sense this shield. I should if they are indeed using blood magic.”

“Maybe it’s a different type to what you use.”

He glanced at me, his expressive eyebrows raised and suggesting amusement. “Blood is blood, no matter what creature it comes from.”

“Well, obviously not.” I motioned to the barrier neither of us could see. “Do you think my Ithican blade can counter the barrier’s magic?”

“The actual barrier rather than the pins? No. Ithicans do use magic in the creation of their weapons, but as far as I’m aware, they cannot counter it.”

Can.

I blinked. The sword can counter magic?

No . The reply was annoyed. Me.

Hate to point this out, Kaia, but you’re not here at the moment, and you’re too big to fit in these tunnels.

No need.

Why?

Can help you through. She paused. Not him. Not kin.

“Huh.” I refocused on Damon. “Kaia says she can get me past the barrier but not you.”

“Separation isn’t a good idea, given we have no idea what waits beyond the barrier. Just because the tunnel appears to be empty of threat doesn’t mean it is.”

“I’m aware of that, but we need answers fast, and this might be the only way of getting some.”

“We could backtrack and take another tunnel.”

“That’ll take hours we might not have.” I paused. “Once I’m on the other side, I can look for the pins you mentioned and destroy them. That should bring the barrier down, shouldn’t it?”

“Unless they’ve countered that possibility with another spell.”

“Why would they?”

“Why would their first attack be on an outpost like Eastmead? These people are not following expectations when it comes to the tactical rule book.” He studied me through narrowed eyes. “If you can’t break the pins, how long will it take you to reach the Beak from the other side of the barrier?”

“Presuming there’re no further traps or waiting guards? Half an hour.”

“If you’re not back in an hour ten, I’ll be taking the other tunnel and heading up to find you.”

“I’ll inform Kaia not to eat you, then.”

He did not look amused, and I somehow managed to contain my grin. “I’ve been roaming these tunnels for years, Damon. I really will be fine.”

“The gilded birds and their riders haven’t been here for years, though, have they?”

“No, but a fire hot enough to burn the body of a drakkling should be able to cinder a rider, with or without their golden armor.”

And I hoped that in saying that, I hadn’t snagged Túxn’s interest. The goddess of luck could sometimes be very fickle with her favors.

“And how much fire do you actually have left after everything you expended in that cavern?”

“Enough.”

“That is not a comforting statement.”

I smiled. “I have a drakkon to heal, remember, and besides, there’s the promise of hot passionate sex to claim.”

“I love that the drakkons come first over everything else.” He shook his head. “We really will have to find an active aerie for you in Zephrine, won’t we?”

“Well, it would not only get me out of your hair, but also your father’s. A double bonus, I’d say.”

He raised his eyebrow again, the movement somehow both mocking and amused. “I don’t keep enough hair to worry about these days, so don’t let that bother you.”

I laughed and gripped his arm. He slid his hand briefly over mine and gently squeezed it, and I did my best to ignore the desire that surged at the simple touch. But there was a big part of me that wished I’d taken time to explore the muscular perfection of this man before... I shut the rest of that thought down.

There was plenty of time ahead for such exploration. Besides, sexual arousal wasn’t uncommon after a near death experience, and this “surge” could surely be put down to that.

And if I kept telling myself that, I might even end up believing it.

“If I can’t break the barrier, I’ll return as fast as I can.”

“I would prefer you be as careful as you can, but given the propensity of your family to throw themselves headfirst into the middle of trouble, I won’t be waiting with bated breath for that to happen.”

A statement I didn’t bother refuting. I tried pulling away, but his grip tightened, preventing me. I frowned up at him, saw the devilment and desire in his eyes.

Fires sparked within, a deep-down heat that had nothing to do with flame.

“What?” I said, voice edged with a huskiness I couldn’t quite control.

Though he hadn’t appeared to move, he was somehow so much closer. “I believe the custom you started in Esan’s courtyard should be continued.”

His breath brushed heat across my lips, and I swallowed against the sudden rush of wanting. It was insane to be kissing this man right now, given we had no idea what dangers might even now be approaching, and yet... and yet, was that not also a good reason for doing so?

I softly cleared my throat and said, “What custom would that be?”

“A kiss goodbye before you fly away with your drakkon.”

“I’m not?—”

His lips met mine, stealing the rest of my words away. Stealing thought and breath, leaving nothing but sweet sensation as the kiss deepened and our tongues tangled, tasted, teased.

God, the man could kiss .

The deep-down fires burned to life once more, and I pressed my body harder to the length of his, wanting more, needing more, wishing we were flesh-on-flesh so I could explore the glorious length of him. But leather lay between us, and that was probably just as well. A cold stone tunnel really wasn’t the best place to consummate our marriage.

As if he’d heard that thought, he groaned and pulled back. His blue eyes were afire with desire, but there was amusement there, too.

“This kiss confirms desire will never be a problem between us, but I believe our timing could certainly be better.”

“I believe you’re right. Perhaps we should—” I paused and waved a hand at the seriously impressive erection visible even through the leathers. “—discuss your current inconvenience once we return to Esan.”

“I believe the same inconvenience affects us both.”

His voice was dry, and I grinned. “Yes, but mine’s a whole lot less obvious.”

“I shall enjoy exploring and tasting your less... obvious... inconvenience once we have the time.”

“I believe I would enjoy that.”

“I shall ensure that you do.” With the smile of a man well used to pleasuring women, he bowed and stepped back. “And you had best be on your way, before your drakkon becomes impatient again.”

I laughed, but turned to the barrier we couldn’t see and said, Ready when you are, Kaia.

Deepen bond , she said. Must be one.

I frowned. To share immunity?

Mesh with young. Protects them, will protect you.

I blinked. When have you had to protect drakklings against magic?

The only magic we ever employed against them these days was from the weather mages, and that was simply a means of forcing them into retreat on the few occasions they did fly over.

The white ones use.

The white ones being the Mareritt, according to the image that accompanied her reply. I had no idea drakkons flew into Mareritten.

Good hunting in warm times. Risk worth. Bond.

I drew in a breath, then deepened the connection between us. Her mind was deep and vast, alien and yet not, and it opened to me like a flower, as mine did to her. My connections with other animals had been surface level only, so the difference here was to be expected. But this was much, much more than deepening the ability to read thoughts and feel emotions. It was a sharing of our very beings —of all that we were, all that we had been, and all that we could be. It was a sharing of memories, of power, and of joy, but it was also pain—of friends killed, love betrayed, and dreams diminished on my part, and on hers, mates and drakklings lost, some to humans, some to wind and weather, and some who simply weren’t strong enough to survive the harshness of the lands we’d driven them into. Grief rolled through me, through us . Then there was a brief twist of senses and mind, and I was looking through her eyes and she through mine.

We were one.

It was a weird sensation, and my brain scrambled to cope with the multiple points of view now hitting me—not only what I was seeing and sensing here, but what Kaia was, both here and in the aerie, where Gria slept with the bloody remnants of a capra scattered around her.

Kaia obviously wasn’t having the same difficulty as me. But then, if she’d done this with drakklings, she was obviously familiar with the dual points of view.

Walk now , she said.

I did so, every sense I had—hers and mine—tuned to the barrier I could now see. It was a fierce golden wall through which hundreds of fiery ribbons shimmered and roamed.

Magic , Kaia said. No stop.

I hit the barrier. It briefly resisted my presence, then the threads on either side of me melted away and I stepped through. It felt like what I imagined walking through a tar pit would. It enveloped me, smothered me, making breathing difficult and forward movement harder and harder. Fear rose, as did flames. I clenched my fingers against the need to react and forced my feet on. Kaia remained a bright presence in my mind, and there was no concern in her thoughts.

I’d trusted her before. I could do no less now.

I moved on, each step slow and steady, for what seemed an eternity. Then, with a suddenness that tore a gasp from my throat, I was through.

I stopped and scanned the tunnel ahead for any sort of threat, then drew in a deep, somewhat shuddering breath and turned. The barrier continued to burn bright, and there was no sign of Damon through it.

“Bryn?” he said, voice sharp and very distant.

“Here, safe,” I replied. Thank you, Kaia.

Welcome . She retreated from my mind enough that we regained our individuality, but not so far that I couldn’t see the barrier. Not felt this magic before.

They didn’t use it on you when they attacked?

No.

Perhaps their magic was protection-based rather than attack, and if that were true, it was at least one point in our favor. Right now, they seemed to have too many other advantages.

Damon said if we can find the pins that keep this barrier in place, we might be able to bring it down.

Who he to you?

I hesitated. He’s my husband.

Husband?

Mate.

No cinder?

I smiled at the slight note of amusement in her mental tones. Definitely not.

Will tell Gria. He magic?

Thank you, and yes. Protective magic, not attack. He won’t hurt either of you. I promise.

No like them, but trust.

Men, she meant, rather than Damon. And I could hardly blame her. Women might long have been a part of Esan’s military might, but in truth, we were but a fraction overall. It definitely took a certain mindset to want to risk life and limb in order to protect greater society.

“Have you spotted the pins?” Damon asked. “They’ll likely be on either edge, hidden from obvious sight. Destroy one, and it should short the spell and take out both.”

I wrinkled my nose and studied the nearest wall for several seconds. After a moment, I realized there was a pattern to the swirl of ribbons or whatever the hell those things actually were—they dove down into the corner, swam back up the wall, then raced across half the barrier before turning around in the middle and doing the whole loop again. I drew my sword and cautiously moved forward. In a crevice at the point where the wall met the floor was a small metallic feather. The threads were rolling around the outer edges of the feather before crawling up the wall.

“I think the pin is one of those metallic feathers,” I replied. “I can’t think of any other reason for it to be shoved into a hole in this tunnel.”

“Are you able to get your sword into the crevice?”

“Yes.” I paused. “What sort of reaction can I expect?”

“Unknown.”

“Well, that’s always fun.”

“Cleave it from a side-on angle if you can. If the pin is set to explode most of the force will go to the front rather than the sides.”

“‘Most’ is not a comforting word right now.”

He laughed. “Best I can do under the circumstances.”

I stepped sideways until only half of the feather was visible, then knelt and pressed the tip of the sword into the crevice, onto the feather. There was no response, but then, I hadn’t yet tried to damage it.

With one of those breaths that didn’t do a whole lot to calm the inner nerves—I really would rather fight a half dozen Mareritt than do something like this—I thrust the blade tip through the glittering leaf, hitting the base of the rock underneath. A sharp, bell-like chime rang through the air, and the movement of the ribbons became chaotic. Then, with a surprisingly soft and yet powerful whoomph , the barrier exploded. The force of it was a foul wind that sent me tumbling.

I landed on my back a good ten or fifteen feet away, staring up at the dagger-like rocks only inches from my forehead. Fuck, I’d been lucky— so damn lucky—that I hadn’t ended up in the same damaged state as Randel.

“Bryn?” Damon dropped to his knees beside me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just winded. Move back so I can get up.”

He shuffled back and rose with me, one hand hovering near my elbow, as if ready to catch me should I waver.

“I’m fine, Damon, really.”

“You look fine, but magic can sometimes have detrimental effects that are not obvious at first glance.” His gaze swept me critically and came up looking relieved. “I can’t see any evidence of post-spell fragments clinging to you.”

“Which maybe suggests they didn’t expect us to be able to break through.”

“And we wouldn’t have, if not for your drakkon.” He reached out and plucked something from my hair. “There is this, though.”

“This” was a semi melted, blackened remnant of the gilded feather. “Is there magic clinging to it?”

“Enough to tell they are using blood magic, so it is strange that I cannot see it.” He raised the fragment a little, allowing the blue light to flow across it. “If this remnant is anything to go by, they are not restricted to mere protection as we are.”

“You said your magic could also alter—isn’t that what they’re doing with the gilded birds?”

He shrugged. “It’s possible that’s the birds’ natural state—perhaps they are their country’s equivalent to our drakkons.”

“Theoretically, though, it is possible to physically alter a living being such as these birds?”

He hesitated. “Theoretically, anything is possible with enough will and skill, but such wide-scale alterations on such large creatures might well require more blood than the mage can spare.”

Which wasn’t much of a problem when you could use the blood of others. “Then, presuming the birds are altered by blood—could you or your Angolan kin undo them?”

He dropped the remnant onto the stone and ground it underneath a heel. “Not to kill—as I said, our blood magic is protection based rather than attack. It is possible that if we caught one, we could figure out what has been done to it and maybe even return it to its natural state, but that is an unrealistic task if we are dealing with a squadron or more of them.”

I adjusted the position of my pack, picked up the one that had slipped from my shoulder when I’d been thrown, and then moved forward again. Despite the quiet fierceness of the explosion, it had caused a fair bit of damage to the walls either side of the crevice. Chunks of blue glowing stone lay scattered throughout the tube, along with multiple bits of the black rock’s “teeth.” No wonder Damon had asked me if I was okay. By rights, the explosion should have blown me apart as easily as the rock. And might well have, had I been standing in front of the crevice.

We made good time and soon reached the point where the tube met a much older system. From here, it was only a ten-minute walk through a small cavern, and a sharply inclined but shorter tunnel to reach the Beak.

We paused at the edge of the tunnel and studied the small cavern. At first glance, it appeared empty, then Damon lightly nudged my arm and pointed to the right, near where the entrance to the Beak’s runner tunnel was.

I studied the area, initially seeing nothing but a series of odd-shaped rocks. Then I noticed their oddly formal structure. They weren’t rocks. They were concealment cloaks hiding what looked to be a series of differently sized boxes.

“They’ve obviously started setting up some sort of supply depot,” I said.

He nodded. “There doesn’t seem to be much here yet.”

“It might also be but one of a number scattered across the Black Glass Mountains or even the Throat. With winged access, there’re plenty of places for them to use.”

And it wasn’t like we could find every one of them, given how large—and how dangerous—the range was. Besides, it would take far longer than we probably had.

“True.” He paused. “There’s no sign of a guard here. What does Kaia say about magic?”

None came her immediate response.

She was still following along with our adventure, obviously.

Bored , she said. You more interesting .

What did you do before I came along to relieve said boredom?

Fly. Dangerous here. Can’t leave Gria too long.

A good point, given the stash we’d just uncovered. I returned my attention to the cavern. “Kaia isn’t sensing anything.”

“Good.” He rose. “Let’s go investigate those boxes.”

I nodded and padded out after him.

We were five steps into the cavern when I heard the voices.

Damon grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the tunnel. I knelt in the deeper shadows, keeping close to the wall to present a less noticeable shadow, one hand clenched against the fire burning at my fingertips and the other on my sword’s hilt. Damon knelt beside me, pulled his knife free from its sheath, and sliced open a fingertip. He rapidly spelled, his singsong words so soft I could barely hear them despite our closeness. As the blood dripped onto the ground, shadows roiled up from it, deepening and thickening as the spell reached its peak. He closed it off with a sharp motion, but this time there was no explosion.

“The veil will prevent them seeing us,” he murmured, his breath a sweet caress across my ear. “But do not move, as the spell will ripple in response, and that might attract attention.”

I nodded, my gaze on the still empty cavern as the voices grew closer. I had no idea what they were saying, because it wasn’t any language I’d heard before. While there was a common language shared by Arleeon and all her trading partners, this was something else altogether.

There were at least ten in the group, which normally wouldn’t present much of a problem given there were two of us and I could take out at least half of them with fire—presuming, of course, their armor wasn’t fireproofed. But killing or capturing these men would only warn their commanders that we knew of their existence, and both instinct and common sense said that wasn’t a good idea. Their unawareness gave us the chance to learn more about them and prepare, whereas reacting now could lead to an immediate and full-scale attack on Esan and maybe even Arleeon itself.

We needed time.

Time we didn’t have , instinct whispered yet again.

The voices stopped with an abruptness that made my skin crawl. I didn’t move, barely dared to breathe, as tension locked my body and heat pressed harder against my fingertips.

Then, on the soft stirring breeze, came the sound of footsteps. Two men appeared, each holding what looked to be narrow tubes of very thin metal. A small pouch was connected to the base of the tubes, and inside this, visible thanks to the sheerness of the metal, was some sort of dark liquid.

They were both wearing the chain armor Kaia had shown me, but only one had a helmet on. The other had it lashed to his waist belt, revealing brown features with a flat wide nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was a thin dark slash. His hair was short, spiky, and a rather shocking green.

Definitely not a race we’d ever traded with.

They scanned the cavern carefully, their weapons raised and their fingers resting on what I presumed was the release button. The helmetless man’s gaze paused at the entrance of our tube for several incredibly long seconds before moving on again.

The first man growled something in that guttural language we’d heard earlier, and then two of them took up sentry positions, one remaining near their tunnel, and one walking across to the right side of ours.

He looked in briefly, his gaze skittering across the deeper shadows that surrounded us, then grunted and turned around, the tube still held at the ready. But this close, I could smell the stuff, and it very much reminded me of that faintly sweet but musty scent evident whenever I entered the cages holding our gray hawks. That suggested it was a liquefied form of their gilded birds’ shit. After what it had done to the boat, I hated to think what it would do to human flesh....

In a two-by-two formation, six more armor-clad men moved into the cavern, each pair carrying a large box. The first pair flipped the concealment blanket back, then placed their box on top of the nearest. The other two pairs followed suit, then, after pulling the blanket back down, they all retreated. Conversation faded as they moved deeper into the other tunnel.

We didn’t move, not for another five minutes. Then, warily, Damon dismissed his shadow spell and rose, offering me a hand. I placed my fingers in his and allowed him to pull me upright, even if it wasn’t really necessary.

Except it somehow was, because there was a part of me that hungered for his touch. Any touch, however brief. A part whose demands had only increased after our last kiss. We just needed time... but instinct was whispering that if I wanted this man in my bed, I had best get him there soon, before the world blew apart around us.

I pulled free from his grip and flexed my fingers. Mom’s seeress abilities had never really been a functioning part of mine—at least to date—so instinct’s warnings were probably based on nothing more than fear.

Probably.

I ignored the tension that rippled through me, then dropped the pack looped over my shoulder onto the ground and drew my sword, edging warily to the cavern’s entrance. There was no response to our movement, and the tunnel opposite remained empty of any indication it was occupied.

I motioned to the boxes. “You check them out; I’ll head up the tunnel and investigate.”

“How much farther on is the Beak?”

“A couple of hundred yards, if that. Kaia’s still with me, so if there’s any sort of magic, she’ll warn me.”

Hope is. Am bored.

I grinned and repeated her comment to Damon. His eyebrows rose. “I never really gave much credit to drakkons being so intelligent, let alone them having so many human emotions.”

Same with us to them , Kaia muttered.

A laugh bubbled up my throat but thankfully didn’t make it past my lips.

“Don’t tell me,” he said dryly. “She just applied the comment to me.”

All males , Kaia corrected. Have brains, just don’t use. Think with breeding stick.

This time, the laugh escaped, though I managed to raise a hand in time to at least keep it partially smothered.

Damon raised his eyebrows again, an unspoken demand I share.

I grinned. “She basically just said that all males, no matter the species, think with their cocks rather than their brains.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

Rarely am , she said, somewhat smugly.

I smothered another laugh, then touched Damon’s arm and moved out. The air whisked lightly around me, and there was the faintest hint of murkha within it. It was a weed cultivated and smoked via clay pipes by some of our more distant trading partners, a practice that had never taken off in Arleeon, mainly because murkha was difficult to grow here and expensive to import. My father did have a supply, but it was only ever used during trade negotiations.

If these invaders were using it without any sort of restriction, then maybe they grew it, or at least came from the same region as those who did.

I moved into the other tunnel, my steps light on the ground and every sense alert. The stirring air strengthened, but it brought with it no sound, and no suggestion the men we’d seen remained at the Beak. That wasn’t really surprising—the Beak wouldn’t hold ten men, let alone the birds they probably flew in on.

The closer I drew to the Beak, the more the faint strains of pre-dawn light infused the shadows. I slowed my pace and kept my flames at the ready. The distant sound of crashing waves and the occasional cry of a kayin greeting the rising of another day remained the only sounds to be heard.

The tunnel swept left and made its final rise toward the Beak. I pressed against the wall, eased forward the final few inches, and then peered around the corner.

No soldiers, no armed birds, and nothing more than footprints on the gritty ground.

Tension remained, however. I’d been in too many close calls with Mareritten ambushes to believe the quiet emptiness of this place.

Kaia? I asked. Any magic?

Not sense.

I guess that was something. I flexed my fingers against my sword’s hilt, then moved on. The breeze stiffened almost immediately, filled with the salty scent of the sea. I remained close to the wall, my gaze scanning the opening ahead and the curving rock that gave this place its name. I knew from past adventures up here there was very little room for anyone to stand either side of the entrance—the cliff face was simply too sheer. Even a capra would have trouble scrambling up and down the thing.

But these invaders were flight capable, and that meant they could easily perch somewhere above and simply swoop down the minute I poked my head out.

Which I did, of course, but carefully, quickly checking either side before twisting around so I could study the dark sweep of mountain above me. Nothing.

With the sword still held at the ready—though it was unlikely to be much use against these birds given how close I’d have to get to the things to damage them—I stepped out. The wind tugged at my braid and the roar of the sea far below filled my ears. Dawn had broken across the skyline, her long plumes of red and gold tinting the gathering clouds and promising a stormy day. The Beak’s stone—once a smooth, shiny black—was heavily scarred, the trenches littering its length at least six inches deep.

Birds heavy , Kaia said. We not damage that badly.

No. I squatted next to one of the newest-looking scars and ran my fingers around their edges. They were V-shaped, the wider end—where two claws were—scored deeper than the tip that possessed one solitary shorter claw.

Land hard, no hover , Kaia commented. Front claws sharp, slice deep.

I slid my fingers into the toe section of the cut. It was a good hand deep. Their claws have to be pretty damn strong to slice through stone like this.

Claws not natural. Birds not natural.

And if they could damage the Beak like this with so little effort, what could they do to Esan’s walls? The Mareritt, for all their magic and sometimes superior technology, had never breached the city. These creatures, twisted and strengthened by magic, could well achieve in days what the frost scum hadn’t been able to in centuries.

I rose, looked toward the Black Glass peaks, and caught the faintest glimmer of gold. I swore and lunged toward the cavern’s mouth, pressing close to the shadows that still hugged one side of it, my gaze sweeping the color-wrapped skies for any indication I’d been spotted. A few kayin hung on the breeze, lazily circling; if there’d been any threat or unusual activity, they wouldn’t be doing that. They were in general timid souls.

I sheathed my sword and then swung my pack around and undid the small long viewer lashed to its side. I didn’t use it all that often, because we generally relied on scouts rather than these things. They had a limited focus range and tended to take a while to refocus when moving from point to point, which made them a little dangerous in tight situations needing a fast response.

After dropping my pack, I edged partially out. The gold glimmer remained where it was, bright against the black of the mountain behind it. I raised the long viewer to my right eye, closed the left, and adjusted the small ring halfway down the tube until everything jumped into focus. It took me a minute to find the source of the glimmer and... Vahree save us, these things were monstrous . Not in size so much as form. I might have already seen them in the images Kaia had shared, but somehow physically seeing them made them all the more real. All the more dangerous.

This one appeared to be tethered with a chain attached to the chest plate holding the wide leather saddle on its back in place. It wasn’t trying to escape, and it probably could—claws that could carve such deep trenches into the Beak could surely shatter chain just as easily, however thick. It was also wearing some sort of hood over its head and eyes, and it appeared to be rocking lightly back and forth, as if moving to some invisible tune.

The wind , Kaia said. It follows the ebb and flow of wind.

That’s odd, isn’t it?

Perhaps wishes to fly. Can’t, so imagines.

Surprise rippled through me. Do drakkons ever do this?

Young dream fly.

I centered the long viewer on the bird again. I had a feeling this one was young, though I had no idea why. It was just a suspicion that the natural weight of the bird, combined with that of a fully armored rider, would take a toll on them physically. It would make sense to use those in the prime of their lives rather than risk the strength of an older bird failing at the wrong time.

Not drakkon, Kaia said. Even Jagri lift you, metal covering or not.

Jagri?

Old male. Guards breeding grounds in red mountains.

A mate?

No. Can’t catch in flight. Not worthy.

I smiled. Drakkons mated on the wing, and only the strongest, fastest males were allowed to breed with the queens. I wasn’t wearing armor when you lifted me.

Can carry hair beast with ease. You nothing.

Hair beast being a longhorn, if the image that came through was anything to go by. Carrying in claws would be different to carrying on your back. It would affect your flying dynamics, would it not?

What dynamics?

I hesitated. The ease with which you move through the air.

Horns and spines larger than you.

And I guessed if I was sitting behind them, the flow of air wouldn’t really be disrupted. I hesitated. Would you be willing to carry me on your back if it was needed? It would leave your claws for defense.

If bank, you fall.

You could catch.

If miss?

How often do you miss prey?

You not prey. Matter more.

A statement that utterly warmed my heart. What if I was roped on? Or had some sort of saddle to keep me on?

Not that we actually had a saddle that would fit her back. It would have to be made, and I doubted we’d have the time to do that.

She was silent for a minute. I think.

Thank you.

I refocused on the invader and carefully swept the area. There were no cave entrances on that plateau that I could see from this angle, but it was obviously a sentry point, as what looked to be a triangular metal tent was set up behind the golden bird and a tied down privy pot sat farther away. Talk about a seat with a view, I thought wryly.

I scanned the other peaks within the range of the long viewer, but couldn’t spot any other sentry stations. Which didn’t mean they weren’t there—if they’d gone to the trouble of setting up one, there would undoubtedly be others. Hell, maybe the Beak was meant to be their next one—it would explain the boxes and the barrier we’d come across.

If that were the case, though, we needed to find a means of preventing them from gaining ground here without giving them a reason to suspect we were aware of them.

Movement caught the edge of the long viewer’s glass. I turned the ring a fraction to sharpen the image again and saw the bird’s rider exit the metal tent, a bottle of some sort of green liquid in one hand and a long pipe in the other. He walked around the bird and took a seat on its claws; the bird shifted fractionally, and its chest feathers ruffled around the man, cloaking a good portion of his body. The man relaxed back, alternating between drinking and smoking.

These birds might be altered by magic, but the bond between rider and bird appeared to be a mutual one rather than enforced by magic.

Wear bands , Kaia said.

Bands?

On leg. Saw when attack.

The image of a metal ring encircling a scaly red leg flashed through my mind. It glowed; bird reacted.

I focused the long viewer on the bird’s legs, but it was partially sitting and its under feathers were fluffed up, concealing its legs. But there was a silver band similar to the image Kaia had sent on the rider’s left wrist.

Only one bird had ring , Kaia commented.

I frowned. How many attacked you?

Three.

Three of them. It was a wonder she and Gria had even survived. If only one had the ring, it’s possible it’s a communication device of some kind. Perhaps it’s a means of the lead bird and rider giving orders to the others.

Especially given the man wrapped in feathers had a similar band on his wrist.

Birds no speak? Drakkons smarter then.

Drakkons are definitely smarter , I agreed.

Something close to smugness rolled down the line between us. I smiled and shifted my stance, checking the peaks closer to Esan. I couldn’t see anything that caused alarm, but perhaps the Beak was their first foray into the mountains closer to Esan. I couldn’t help but wonder yet again why—given their superior air strength—they were being so cautious.

But maybe we were reading too much into the two attacks that had happened on our settlements. Maybe the force that had attacked Eastmead and the islands was the only force they had here, and they were simply testing our strengths and weaknesses while they awaited the arrival of their main force.

If that were true, then we needed to figure out a means of combating their winged battalion before the rest got here.

I glanced down at the gouges in the rocks again, then spun and walked back into the tunnel. After tying the long viewer back into place, I swung my pack on and headed back down to the cavern.

“Wife incoming,” I said as I neared.

“Husband warned and standing down.”

“Shame,” I said with a laugh. “I was looking forward to seeing you at full attention.”

“That could very easily be arranged if you’d stop flitting about after drakkons and armored birds.” His voice was dry. “But given the needs of the former appear to come before yours or mine, I suspect it might be some time yet before that happens.”

“I suspect you are sadly right.” I walked over to the large crate he was standing behind. It hadn’t yet been opened, but the others had, and they contained a variety of unmarked boxes and leather-wrapped goods. “What have we got?”

“A selection of food and camping items in the other boxes, if what I’ve pulled out is anything to go by.”

He sliced apart the leather strap binding the final box, then nodded for me to grab the edge of the lid. As one, we lifted it and slid it off the end. Inside was a selection of those metal tubes and several tubs of the dark liquid, and a collection of the smaller, translucent metal pouches.

“Weapons. They’re obviously in the process of setting up a supply station here.”

“Yeah.” I reached down and picked up one of the tubes. It was light and simple in design, with little more than the trigger and the attachment point for the metal pouch. There was no sight and no guard against possible splash back, making me wonder how useful these weapons would be in any sort of wind. “I wonder if we can use these things to bring down the tunnel and block this point of entry?”

“It would be better to use magic to destabilize the roof and bring it down that way.”

“Won’t they be able to sense your magic?”

“It’s a possibility, though likely a remote one, given I can’t sense theirs.”

I nodded. “I take it, then, that you are able to bring the roof down?”

“Wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t.”

I glanced at the tunnel for a second. “Will it take much energy?”

Amusement glimmered in his bright eyes. “Worried I won’t have the strength to rise to the occasion later on?”

I grinned. “From what I’ve witnessed over the years, a man could be three-quarters dead and still be erect and ready to go if opportunity arises.”

“If it was your luscious body they were reacting to, I am not surprised.”

“Luscious? Perhaps you need to get your eyes tested, husband, because I’m as far from luscious as you can get, especially in the breast department.”

“Your breasts are small, granted, but they are perfectly formed. And more than a handful is a waste?—”

“Said no man ever,” I cut in dryly, even as desire stirred. My breasts had been called many things—pimples, stone fruit, a waste of time—but never had anyone called them perfect. “And there’s no need to sweet-talk me—I have already decided to taste your wares.”

“And I do like a good tasting.” His slow smile was decidedly sexy, and my pulse skipped up several beats. “Rest assured I will return the favor.”

“Excellent.” It came out a little husky, and the heat in his gaze increased. I cleared my throat and did my best to ignore it. My pulse nevertheless skipped along in happy abandon, no doubt anticipating what was, at best, hours away. “Why I asked is—I was wondering if you could create some sort of barrier shield on the two internal entry points into the old aerie. Gria won’t be able to fly for a few days yet, and I’m worried about these invaders—or someone from Esan—randomly finding their way in.”

Eat if do came Kaia’s thought.

Eating isn’t the answer to every problem.

Is when men come hunt.

Have you ever eaten anyone?

Too gristly, no taste came the response. Better to bite and drop.

I smothered a laugh. Seriously?

Yes. No meat on bones.

“I gather Kaia is commenting on the proposal?” Damon said, voice dry again.

“More on how gristly people are as a meal. Why?”

“Because you get this very distracted expression when you’re listening to her.” He paused, frowning. “She really said we’re gristly?”

“Too gristly, no taste, and no meat on our bones, apparently.”

“I’m not sure whether to be worried by that comment or amused.”

“You’re safe from being taste tested,” I said with a grin. “And she’s promised to make Gria leave you alone.”

“Hmmm,” he said, in a gravelly, surprisingly sexy way.

But I suspected I’d find anything he did sexy right now. Rahtee—the goddess of lust, passion, and sexual pleasure—might have spent too many years overlooking my needs, but she’d definitely decided to hit me with the desire stick hard and heavy now.

I only hoped reality could live up to imagination. I suspected it would, but I’d been disappointed before far too many times.

“So, you can raise the barrier?”

“Yes, although my blood alone will not be enough.”

“I could ask Kaia if she could bring in a capra.”

They close . Can collect. Gria eat meat.

And with dawn rising, she should be safe from the gilded birds and their riders.

Hunt now? she added.

I repeated the question to Damon, and he shook his head. “The fresher the kill, the stronger the spell.”

Wait then. Tell when need.

Will do.

Damon walked around the crate and headed toward the tunnel. I trailed after him. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay here. Spells don’t often go wrong, but this one can be... touchy.”

“Because you’re destroying rather than protecting?”

He nodded. “It’s a bit of a gray area. It can work if the intent is to protect, but backlash is not unknown.”

I frowned. “Backlash?”

He nodded. “If I come tumbling out of the tunnel a raw and bloody mess, that’s backlash.”

Alarm flicked through me. “I’d appreciate you avoiding such an occurrence.”

“Oh, I plan to, if only because it’d play havoc with my seduction plans.” He swung off his pack and handed it to me, then brushed his lips across mine—a barely there caress that had me hungering for more. “Back in a few minutes.”

I nodded and watched him disappear into the gloom, then swung his pack over my shoulder and moved back behind the largest of the boxes. I had no idea how much of the tunnel would be affected, but it should be safe enough at the back here.

And hoped that I hadn’t just tempted Túxn to withdraw her favors and look the other way.

Time seemed to tick by extraordinarily slowly, but it was probably only five or so minutes later when a gentle vibration began to run through the ground. Stone dust began to sprinkle down from the ceiling, and I glanced up sharply. Tiny fissures raced across the ceiling, some of them meeting and merging, creating ever larger lines as they were drawn toward the exit tunnel.

Foreboding pulsed, and I turned, then hesitated, reaching back into the box to grab a handful of the metal tubes and a small tub of the liquid before hurrying toward the tunnel. I doubted Damon intended collapsing the whole cavern, but he’d also mentioned how unstable the spell could be. Better to be safe than sorry.

I stopped a few yards inside our escape tunnel, dropped my haul onto the ground near my feet, then crossed my arms and leaned against the rough wall. For several more minutes, nothing more happened. The needle-fine cracks continued to run together, creating a dangerous network of splinters across the cavern’s ceiling and the dust in the air increased, a red haze that quickly decreased visibility. A soft whoomph echoed, then the walls around me shuddered violently. Large slabs of stone began to rain from the cavern’s roof and, barely visible through the haze, a thicker cloud of dust and rocks ballooned out of the other tunnel.

Damon emerged from its middle, running hard. A heartbeat later, I saw why. Boulders chased his heels. Bounders big enough to crush.

The force of his spell hadn’t just collapsed the tunnel, it was about to take the whole damn cavern with it.