Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

BURNING EYES

T he pendant at my throat seemed to sear into my skin. Staring into the Dragon’s eyes was like looking at the hottest part of the fire, at the glowing coals that weren’t quite red, but weren’t quite blue. The coals that burn the watcher’s eyes, watering and drying them from the smoke. It sat so still, pinning me with its stare, barbed tail swishing from behind.

Maybe it’s true. Maybe the ancient gods really are divine immortals. Perhaps this is Raingar the Magnificent, from the fables we were told as children. Maybe I have gone crazy, and magic is real, or maybe I’m dead after all.

But I didn’t feel dead; I felt unsettlingly awake. Those eyes were the same as his , save for the pupils, which were slits instead of circles.

The Dragon continued studying me, but not with the level of recognition I would have expected from a rescuer. In my trance, I advanced a step and raised my hands slowly, exposed. But before I took another step, something caught in my peripheral—a brown blur rushing towards me. The sun reached its mid-point, and I had to shade my eyes, but the blur came into focus as a spotted falcon. It transformed mid-air, and Leiya landed gracefully in a crouch with one hand on the ground. I gaped. She wore battle dress, with two long scimitars strapped to her back. I had seen her sharpening her blades many a time but not wearing them in anticipation of use. The thin, curved blades looked menacing on her strong frame. And a cold focus gleamed in her eyes, which were fixed on the Dragon.

The Dragon’s body tensed but remained still, as did Leiya. “Terra,” she said coolly. “Slowly walk backward an’ move behind me.”

My confusion intensified, but I moved, slow steps at first, my hands still in the air. “Is that not Ezren?” Had I mistaken those eyes? Or misunderstood Dane’s lesson on Fae shifts?

“Aye, but nay will he thenk as Ezren. We need te move before he shefts.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered. “You changed and are just as you always are.”

“I dunay have time fer thes! Get yer hind behind me. Leuffen well be here soon.”

Her demanding tone sent a regrettable bolt of stubbornness through my body. “What’s wrong with him? He just saved my life. Why would he hurt me now?”

Apparently, the Dragon who was and wasn’t Ezren didn’t like my raised voice, however subtle. He gave out a sharp cry, head angled towards the sky, talons scraping at the ground like a horse preparing for battle.

Shit.

No way could we stand against a Dragon. Unless Leiya slew it with a well-positioned strike of her blade. Which I guessed would be a fatal blow to Ezren. The options did not seem optimal.

“Terra…”

The Dragon screeched again, breaking into a lumbering charge, only taking a few steps before shifting. It happened in an instant, the change occurring with a twist of the air. And then Ezren, armed with two scims of his own, barreled towards us. I would have laughed at the obscenity of it, but a blood thirst raged in his eyes, sending a chill down my spine.

He did not recognize us.

“Ah, fer fucks sake, Terra,” Leiya growled. “Get yerself behind me, and when the bloke’s distracted, get yerself a fucking weapon!”

Her tone rang clear enough. I leaped far behind her, my eyes not leaving him. Leiya bent her knees in anticipation, crossing her arms over her shoulders, and drew the pair of gleaming blades from her back. Leiya was only a few inches shorter than Ezren, and from what I gathered, equally skilled in combat. But he had an edge to him—a fury I hadn’t seen before.

And then he was upon her.

Scim collided with scim, and flashes of steel whipped around too fast to track. Leiya landed a few blows, but so did Ezren, and his were harder. I searched the ground for anything I could use as a weapon. I stumbled over a small boulder I hadn’t seen before, as if the stone rolled out to trip me. I picked it up, feeling its weight. Heavy enough to do damage, but not too heavy to be unusable.

I slipped the dirt-stained shirt over my head, silently thanking whoever had left me clothes for thinking to include a brassiere. I laid the linen unbuttoned on the soft grass and tore a single strip from the hem. I placed the rock in the middle of the shirt, gathering up the fabric and twisting it around the stone. I tied the rock in place with the torn strip and gave my make-shift bolas a few good swings. The small boulder stayed steady in place as I whipped it through the air by holding the sleeves. I had no idea if it would be effective, but it would have to do.

I looked back to Ezren and Leiya. They continued to do battle, and I knew I couldn’t swing my weapon with any accuracy while they danced. I held it behind me and crept towards them, preparing for my opening. Ezren knocked one of Leiya’s swords to the side and landed a firm kick on her middle that sent her flying a dozen feet back. She landed with a thud, her other scim ricocheting out of her hand. She groaned, the wind knocked from her lungs.

With his back to me, Ezren approached Leiya. I ran toward him, not making a sound, wondering what I would do if he turned his blades on me. But before I could consider the potential repercussions, I whirled my weapon with as much force as I could muster.

The inelegant blow landed with a crack on his left shoulder. From the impact alone, I could tell it was a considerable strike. One of his scims dropped, and he turned to me in a wild fury, but half bent over. I was ready for him. Swinging up diagonally, I sent the boulder into his abdominals. He fell on hands and knees, releasing his other blade, wheezing. I sprinted over to Leiya, who still struggled to get up. I extended a hand, pulling her to stand. She swayed on her feet.

“Stay here. I’ll run towards the boulder field and lead him away,” I whispered to her.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No, Terra. Can’t. Leave. Ye,” she choked out.

I spun and took off. Ezren stood again but still without his blades, his palms pressed into his thighs, heavy breaths escaping him. I shot past him, denying him the chance to grab me. I felt a comforting assistance from the ground, giving the slightest spring to my step, pushing me faster and faster. The Earth was on my side. Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

But he, too, held an advantage. The strong Dragon blood must have still been pumping through his veins. How long until his strength waned?

I ran away from the coastline, maybe a hundred yards off, towards the expansive field. Boulders, large and small, dotted mossy green grass and granite rocks towered next to slabs of flat stone. If I made it, maybe I could tire him out, weaving through the obstacles.

One of his steps cracked a nearby branch—he was gaining on me. I barely reached the edge of the clearing before Ezren tackled me to the ground. I gritted my teeth and rolled him off, ending my fall in a small crouch, weapon still in hand.

Thank the gods he didn’t have his scims. He faced me, expression untamed and wild. He was a disheveled mess, tendrils of sweat-soaked dark auburn hair dancing down his forehead and his shirt half ripped, revealing the definition in his chest. I swung my bolas in a figure eight, building the momentum. He pounced, and I aimed for his head, hoping to land a clean knockout. He ducked and then rose again. My weapon veered toward him again, nearly of its own accord. He leaned back, allowing the bludgeon to glide past, grabbing the neck of the cloth, ripping it from my hands.

The force pulled me into him, but he pushed, shoving me into the sheer face of a nearby megalith. I collided with it, back first. I would have slid down the stone, sinking to my feet, but Ezren was upon me, his body pinning me to the wall. I had to jerk my head upward to look up at him. The brutishness remained on his face, but he looked down at me with an animal desire that was not the same bloodthirsty expression he had given Leiya.

I froze, my throat tightening. The scent of male sweat and pinon lined my nostrils, and the rise and fall of his chest grazed my own. His forearms framed my head, flush with the rock, as he dipped his face to mine. Up close I could see his pupils remained in his Dragon form—vertical slits, almost like that of a cat, rather than circles.

Sweat dribbled down the sides of my face as we both panted. Droplets of blood clung to his scruff. I freed my hand, ready to twist and send a sharp hook into the ribs I knew I’d broken with my bolas. Before I could, Ezren took my cheek in his large palm, his thumb grazing the bottom of my jaw, and he tilted my head back and to the side. He shuttered his slitted eyes and ran his tongue up my neck to my temple, tasting the salt of my sweat and sending a tremor through my body.

His fingers found my neck and squeezed, his teeth snagging my earlobe.

A whimper escaped my lips, and my heart pounded so violently I thought it might explode. The sound stilled him for an instant. His body remained taut, loaded with tension. He turned my face back to his, and I opened my eyes, unaware I had closed them. His pupils were the circular kind again, set in a bed of emeralds on a face now filled with pure terror. His gaze shifted down my front, an almost undetectable linger on the space where my shirt should have been.

“Terra,” he breathed, saying my name for the first time to my ears like a prayer, his hand still cupping my cheek.

I didn’t have time to answer, for a deadly strike to the back side of his head knocked him away from me, a strike delivered by Leiya with the hilt of her blade.

I remained flush with the boulder, aghast. Leiya wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist and said, “Well, let’s get thes fucker tied up.”

Leiya had some rope tucked under her leathers. It seemed she had expected things to go about as they had. I helped her bind his hands and feet together.

I retrieved my shirt, now torn and decorated with blood and grime. Untangling it, I fastened what buttons were left after the whipping it delivered.

“Leuffen will be here soon, ye can rest en the meantime. He wilna give us any trouble now.” She gestured to Ezren.

I wrapped my arms around myself and nestled into the curvature of a soft boulder. The sea breeze felt warm, but a shiver danced over my skin. I grazed my face and winced; a small bruise must have been blooming on my cheekbone. I shook my head to clear the tears that were forming. Too much was happening too fast; I couldn’t keep up. One more thing to add to the list of things I didn’t understand, didn’t know how to process.

Less than an hour later, Leuffen arrived with a small cart. We loaded the still unconscious Ezren into it and made our way back to camp. It had only been about a fifteen-minute journey by flight to the coast, but the trip would be much longer on the way back, Leuffen informed me. We would be lucky to make it before nightfall.

Our pace was slow due to the colorful, varying beatings Leiya and I had sustained. Finally, I looked up at them, dazed. “Why? Why did he want to kill us?” I turned to Ezren’s unconscious body in the cart. He wouldn’t wake for hours. Leuffen ensured that with a dose of an unfamiliar herb concoction.

“Eh, well, he’s a wee bit unusual, fer a Fae,” Leuffen replied. “Sheften’ takes a lot from all a’ us, that’s why ye rare see us fightin’ with magic after a sheft. But Ezren here, well, et gives him somethin’ too. A thirst fer blood, ye see. Dragon shefters have never been known fer their control.”

“The last known Dragon shefter lived a millennium ago,” Leiya continued. “At the time, they were common. Dragons as a species were, too. But they were tools a’ war, ye see. Violent beasts, aye, but remarkably controllable under the right command. Many Fae and Wetch alike sought out Dragons and Dragon shefters for battle. Eventually, the animal species became so brutal they wouldna’ breed and died out on their own. As fer the Fae, they were terrified a’ being used as tools a’ battle again, so they dispersed. When Ezren’s shape was discovered many years ago, his master at arms sent hem away from Viribrum. He didna’ want Ezren te fall te the same fate as many before hem.”

“How exactly does this make him violent beyond recognition?” I probed. “Is that just the curse of the Dragon?”

“He shefts very rarely—ets too risky fer others te know his form. When a’ Fae doesna spend time en their form… well, et makes the sheft very hard te control, akin te yer power. And even a practiced Dragon shefter would be dangerous, fer they have many millennia of battle bred en them. Et takes several hours for Dragon blood te clear his veins after a sheft ef he doesna have a Wetch controllin’ him.”

“Why did he save me, then? How could he, if he has no control?”

Leiya sighed. “That, I dinna’ know, lassy. We all felt the Earth move when ye split et en two. I was with hem. But how he knew ye were en trouble, I dinna’ know. He just took off flyin’. Must’ve had such a straight mission, so even hes Dragon mind knew he needed te grab ye. Now the whole camp’s aware we have a Dragon shefter, I ‘spect.”

I considered her words as we walked, remembering the last few days. “And why did he volunteer for scouting? If he can barely control his shift?”

Leuffen chucked. “Good question. That dinna’ have much more te do with anythin’ but pride, en me opinion.”

“Well, te be fair,” Leiya reasoned, “he can be controlled. Dane has flown hem a time or two fer such missions. Was drainin’ from what I gathered, fer the both a’ ‘em. Had to be spellin’ the whole time, Dane did.”

There was another question, one I didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t quite keep in. “Has he…” I trailed off, unsure of my phrasing. “Is it usual for him to become dangerous in that… that male way?”

Leuffen looked bewildered. “What’re ye referrin’ te?”

Leiya ignored him. “No. I’ve seen hem change a dozen times, many a’ them brutal, but I’ve not seen that. He’ll be feelin’ right sorry about et tomorrow.”

“What do ye lassies mean?” Leuffen asked.

“Ets none of yer business, ye oaf,” Leiya responded at the same time I said blankly, “He licked my face.”

Leuffen huffed out a sound of disturbed surprise. After that we were silent again, both of them afraid to speak, I thought.

We made it back to camp by nightfall. Though everything looked the same, a sense of restlessness hovered over the group, like they anticipated a move.

Jana ushered us into her personal tent. From the outside, it appeared to be the standard tent size and triangular shape. The inside spread circular and wide, though, with a large bed frame, dining table, and other chamber furnishings—nothing like Ezren’s tent.

We laid Ezren on her bed. She extended her hands over his face and midsection, murmuring. His eyes blinked open, and he shot upright, wincing.

“For the gods, Leiya, you couldn’t have gone easy on me, eh?” he said, clutching his abdomen.

She gave him a weary look. “I’d usually be embarrassed te admit thes, but yer injuries are mostly Terra’s handiwork,” she said, a smirk forming behind her words.

I stood the furthest back, somewhat blocked from Ezren’s view by Leuffen’s large stature. But I saw him freeze, eyes searching the room. The burning emeralds landed on me.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Ezren’s face. “Why does that not surprise me?”

I could stand only a second of his searing gaze before I cleared my throat. “Jana, where is Dane? I’d visit him, if I may.”

“Six tents to the left of here. He is resting now. The healers have been with him all day. You can sit with him if you like.”

I nodded. I had prayed on the walk back that Dane was unharmed, but alive was better than dead. I darted for the exit, feeling the urgency of leaving that tent before it threatened to swallow me whole.