Chapter 9

CHAPTER9

Abraxas would follow them to the very ends of the earth if that was what they required of him. He adored both of these women in very different ways. But holding Beauty in his arms after he’d left her in tears? Ah, it soothed the ache in his soul that he had been carrying for far too many months. She didn’t deserve to be treated the way he’d treated her at the end.

He was glad she could forgive him. And that’s what it felt like. Her tears soaked through his shirt and her words had been muffled against his shoulder, but he knew forgiveness when he felt it.

That little human was important to him. They all were. Each one of them was the family that he’d never gotten to have as a child. Losing them would be like losing a limb.

As it had been.

He rubbed a hand over his heart, wondering what the dwarf would have said to them. Goliath wouldn’t have let Lore go to the dragon isles on her own in the first place. He’d have beaten Draven and ended up there adventuring with all the others.

That dwarf hadn’t known what fear tasted like. Not even in the end. He’d changed the way their world worked, and he hadn’t been alive to even realize it.

As they all walked through the tree and headed down into what he could only assume was Borovoi’s basement, he swore he felt Goliath’s spirit walking with them.

The dwarf wouldn’t be quiet as he clambered down the stairs. His boots would strike hard and his laughter would have filled the dimly lit place.

“Stop looking so serious, dragon,” he would have said. “The underground makes you uncomfortable? Good. It should. The ceiling could fall down on your head at any moment, and no one would know what happened.”

No one would, and that was why Abraxas hated being underground like this. It always made him feel like he was seconds from being buried alive.

But the women weren’t nervous, so he supposed he had no place to be either. As much as he wanted to turn right back around and tell them he’d wait for them outside, he knew he had to be here. Wasn’t that his purpose, after all? He was their protector and he would remain their protector until the end of all time.

Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck and stayed as still as possible while Beauty lit a few candles that lined the walls.

“It takes a lot of light to keep the whole place looking somewhat presentable,” she said as she meandered through. “Borovoi forgot to tell us that the whole place was massive. He just offered a safe place to stay, so Da and I quickly said yes. We know what it’s like for our people out there, and we were so afraid of what would happen if we didn’t...”

Her words trailed off, and no one needed them to be said.

Gruffly, Abraxas added, “You’d think for all the work you did with Margaret, she would have at least given you and your father asylum.”

“No one got that.” Beauty’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No one that helped her was given any kindness at all, in fact. Most of us tried to ask for that, considering that we were all fighters. But no. The few who dared to ask her in person never came back. And eventually, we all stopped trying.”

A woman without honor had no place at the head of the table. Abraxas shook his head, then nudged Lore.

She glanced up at him, those lovely starlight eyes all filled with guilt. He’d known this would be hard for her. “Why don’t we save their candles?”

She blinked. “I thought we weren’t using magic?”

“Knowing Borovoi, he has the whole place shielded. I think, of anywhere in this kingdom, this might be the safest place to use your magic as you wish.”

Beauty turned toward them with a bright grin. “You’ve gotten it under control?”

She’d done more than that. Abraxas felt his chest swell with pride, knowing that Lore was more than just the person everyone thought she would be. The magic inside of her was almost impossible to explain to anyone who hadn’t seen it before. She’d come back from the brink of death more times than he could count, and because of that, he thought perhaps she had seen so much more than any of them could imagine.

Lore nodded, her cheeks burning bright red. “I’ve gotten it under control. Now please, allow me.”

She lifted her hands and light glimmered at her fingertips. The glowing orbs pulled off her skin and illuminated the corners of the room, gathering together to hang from the center like a chandelier. Each light solidified as he watched, popping into existence like glass.

“They’ll stay that way now,” Lore added in explanation. “Whenever it’s dark, they’ll light up for you. And if you’re done with them, just tap on them. They’ll go dark again.”

Beauty’s eyes widened, and she stared at the magical lights with her mouth slightly ajar. “Beautiful.”

“They are useful,” Lore corrected, though her cheeks were still bright after the compliment. “But I suppose useful things can be beautiful as well.”

He glanced around the room and noted the root cellar they all stood inside. Beauty and her father had done their best to make it seem more like a home. There were curtains hanging from the ceilings to mark off different rooms, and furniture that must have come from their house before it had burned to the ground. There were small parts of his friend all around him. Paintings, little drawings that might have been sketches of her father, and so much energy put into making a root cellar a house.

It was a shame their lives had come to this. Abraxas rubbed his chest to banish the ache that grew. Beauty should have been able to live in a home of her own, or stay in the castle with Zephyr. She deserved so much more than this.

“Come on,” Beauty said, gesturing with her hand for them to follow her. “When was the last time you ate?”

His stomach growled at the thought.

Both women laughed at him, their eyes sparkling with joy. And though he knew he was the butt of their joke right now, he couldn’t help but find it pleasant to see them like this. They were so happy with each other, as if no time had passed at all.

He’d be a joke if they kept smiling like that.

Beauty brought them to a makeshift kitchen. There was no stove, nor were there any ovens, but there was food on the shelves that would keep, potatoes mostly, it seemed. The long table in the middle had six chairs around it, clearly more than she or her father needed.

“Sit,” Beauty said as she bustled about. “We don’t have anything fresh, nothing to cook it with, but Da has gotten very good at smoking meat.”

“As much as I’d love food,” Abraxas said while gently sitting down on a chair. “I think it would be wise for you to keep yours. I’ll hunt later.”

“I can feed you, Abraxas.”

He glanced at the meager wall of food and arched a brow. “You have forgotten how much a dragon eats, I see.”

“I haven’t forgotten a thing about either of you.” Beauty turned around, hip pressed against a shelf, her arms crossed over her chest.

And he realized how tired she looked. How the dark bags under her eyes were deeper than ever, and how her clothing hung off her body. She was exhausted, and they didn’t need her helping them. They were both well fed, well rested, even though the emotional turmoil of being here wore on them.

They were fine. She was not.

He stood and walked up to her. With brisk hands, he rubbed them up and down her cold arms, and then turned her toward the seat he’d just vacated. “Sit down.”

“It’s my home, Abraxas. I can welcome you into it.”

“But it’s not your home, now is it?” He bent his knees so he could look her in the eyes. “Sit down with Lore and let me get you something to eat. You are about to fall over, and you have clearly not been taking care of yourself. We’re here now, Beauty. You are not alone anymore.”

Tears turned her eyes glassy, but she didn’t let them fall. Instead, she sniffed hard and nodded before walking over to sit beside Lore.

Abraxas eyed the shelves, not quite sure what to make of the jars he saw before him. He’d never been a good cook, so at least he wasn’t expected to pull everything together so they could eat something tasty. He was much more suited to roasting an animal with flames and calling it good at that.

A jar of peaches would do. And there was cheese there. A memory flashed in his mind, one of Zander’s snacks that he’d have the maids bring him. Fruit, cheese, bread, an easy and safe combination.

Gathering up all his ingredients in his arms, he turned toward the ladies to see them both watching him with strange expressions on their faces.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Lore replied with a soft smile. “Just watching you work.”

Now it was his turn for his cheeks to burn a bright red as he set everything in front of them. “Come on, you two. Surely you have better things to do.”

Beauty pillowed her chin on her fist and shook her head. “Not really. It’s nice to see a man working around here again.”

He snorted and tried his very best to ignore what she was saying. “Don’t you have questions for us? Where we’ve been? What’s been happening? You could tell us everything that happened here as well, you know. Instead of staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He bared his teeth. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, woman.”

Both of them reared back and glared at him. Lore was the first to break saying, “Did you just ‘woman’ her?”

He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe I will join your father outside. He seemed like he was better company.”

They both burst into bright laughter, and he tried his best to smile along with them. But the truth was, he felt horribly out of place. Abraxas was more used to being the bodyguard, the protector, not the man who had two women smiling at him and devouring his body with their eyes. Enough was enough.

Grumbling under his breath, he got to work opening the jar and getting plates out for the two incessantly annoying women. “Are you both done yet?”

“We’re done,” Lore said with a wheeze. “I promise, we’re done.”

After that, they all settled into a much more companionable silence. He sat down across from them and watched as they ate the food he’d prepared, his hands itching to do more than what he’d already done. He wanted to help them. To do whatever it took to make their lives easier and better. After all, what good was he if he couldn’t do that?

But they didn’t need him right now. They needed to connect with each other again, through laughter and bubbling noises that filled the root cellar with a happiness these walls had likely not seen in ages.

And for a few moments, it felt like nothing had happened. Like there wasn’t a war outside, and nobody hunted them. They were just three friends who hadn’t seen each other in a very long time, finally getting to catch up and talk.

He watched them both with a smile that only wilted when Beauty asked about those they’d left behind.

“And Draven?” Beauty sipped at a cup of water. He’d gotten them both when their voices started getting scratchy. “He left with you, didn’t he? No one knew where he went, but I was there when Margaret got angry about it. She was certain he’d gone with you.”

“I’m sure she thought he was under her thumb, considering he’s also an elf.” Lore rolled her eyes. “Of course he went with me. I couldn’t shake the man.”

Abraxas let out a grumble. “I still don’t like him.”

“Yes, I imagine you have more reason than ever not to like him,” Lore replied, waggling her eyebrows. “He’s got his sights set on a little one who is very near and dear to your heart.”

“She’s your daughter, too,” he muttered.

Lore shrugged. “And I did foolish things in my youth. I’m not going to tell her what she can and cannot do.”

Beauty’s eyes watched them both, widening ever further with each word. “But she’s just a baby.”

They talked over each other immediately.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell Lore.”

“Dragons age differently. She looks our age.”

Silence stretched between them as they both glared at each other while Beauty tried to soak in that knowledge. It wasn’t exactly well known, and he didn’t want just anyone realizing how easy it was for his children to be taken advantage of. They looked like adults, and that would help protect them in most situations.

Other than Draven’s situation, that was. The elf had better be keeping his hands to himself, or so help him—

“Well, that’s something else.” Beauty sipped her water again, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t have guessed that turn of events.”

“None of us did,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair with his fists curled at his sides. He wanted to punch something at the thought.

If Draven even thought about touching his daughter, who was far younger than was suitable, then he would find a way to kill that elf, bring him back to life, and then kill him again. Maybe a hundred times. Lore could do it.

Lore reached across the table and patted his hand. “I’m sure Draven is being a gentleman. He wouldn’t push her if she didn’t want it.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“Yes, well, few of us do at that age.”

If she kept smirking at him like that, he was going to bend her over his knee.

Though, they both froze when Beauty cleared her throat and asked the question he’d been afraid she’d ask. “Do either of you know where Zephyr is?”

Her fingers toyed with the condensation on the sides of her cup. She didn’t look up, as if she was afraid of what she’d see on their faces.

He glanced at Lore. Would she tell Beauty that they knew where Zephyr was? It might be too much for Beauty to hear that the young man she was in love with was being tortured right now, and that there was nothing any of them could do about it just yet.

Those big pools of starlight stared back at him, and he already knew she’d tell Beauty everything. Their friend had a right to know, even if it hurt.

Lore swallowed hard and replied, “I know where he is. I’ve seen him. Talked with him. The power inside me lets me walk through the realm as if a mile is but a small leap. I know where he is, Beauty. And we’re going to get him back. I promise you that.”