Dragonborn (The Jade Lee Romantic Fantasies, Book 1) (38 page)

He paused, taking a moment to focus on his weapons again. Quickly he confirmed his initial guess: His weapons were in the chamber above, located to his left. They were going to be his first order of business.

He crossed the last wispan to the top and slowly eased himself out of the drainage tube, careful to move with absolute silence. He still saw nothing; the cavern remained in total darkness. But as he slowly extended his hands along the slick stone floor, he realized his body was humming. Not just humming, but itching, even shaking slightly, with an energy he recognized as similar to the magic in the clutching caves. But why? He knew that the metal here—whatever it was—confused dragon senses, so why would the Emperor, the only dragonborn still alive, build something that would confuse himself?

Unless, of course, the Copper and Natiya's Queen weren't the only dragons. Kiril felt his soul freeze at the thought. He had spent most of his life rooting out the last of the demon creatures; the idea that there were more of them made him shake with fear. But that wasn't his primary worry. No, what he really wanted to know was what Dag Racho hid inside the rest of his mountain. What was so large that it must be stored here, hidden from man and dragon alike?

If only he had a firestick, he would risk a light just to find out. Meanwhile, all he could do was crawl along the floor toward his weapons, praying he didn't bump into something he shouldn't.

And just that quickly, he touched something... different. Wet. Leathery. And with no smell discernible from everything else. As delicately as possible, he tried to outline it, skirting the edges, but it seemed to keep going. In fact, he thought as he started to gently raise his hand, trying to gauge its height, he was beginning to think it was huge. So huge that it just might be exactly what Dag Racho needed to hide in this mountain.

Too bad Kiril hadn't a clue what it was. And damned if that energy wasn't beginning to get on his nerves. It was stronger here, much stronger, feeling more like tiny insects crawling along his skin. He'd been doing his best to ignore it, but irritation was beginning to win the war.

What the hell was going on?

"This isn't working!" a female voice snapped.

Kiril froze, stunned by the sudden knowledge that he wasn't alone. But who would be here? Without a light? And hell, he had to get to his weapons, because the woman—whoever the hell she was—could spark a light at any point and where would he be then? Naked and on his knees.

With that thought in mind he started moving faster—and quieter—around the huge, leathery thing, while still listening to the unknown woman curse in the darkness.

"I don't understand!" she continued, clearly angry. "Look, it's more important that we get out of here first. Then later, I swear, I'll come back and do whatever you'd like."

Natiya? Kiril frowned as he moved, questioning his own conclusion. He couldn't possibly be that lucky. Besides, he reminded himself, he'd been imagining Natiya in every female voice or body he'd come in contact with since first seeing the woman dance in that tacky dockside tavern. She couldn't be here, in the dark and out of Dag Racho's clutches.

But what if it was her? And just whom was she negotiating with? He'd been holding his breath waiting to hear a response, but there hadn't been any. Nothing except for Natiya's—or the unknown woman's—heavy sigh as she breathed.

"All right," she said, "but no more."

It was Natiya. It had to be. And she was talking to her egg. Jaseen had done that more and more as the hatching approached. That also explained why she was standing in the dark. Dag Racho was said to be able to see in the dark as well. And dragon sight could not be fooled.

So, why hadn't she seen him yet? He was near her, no longer blocked by the unknown object in the room. She ought to be on him like the beast she was becoming. But she wasn't, and he didn't know why.

Whatever the reason, he decided to accept his good fortune. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to refocus on his weapons. They were right in front of him. He quickly closed the last of the distance, feeling his way up the stone wall to an alcove. They weren't even magically protected, but had been dropped casually into a recessed corner. Next to a lightstick. He ignored that, focusing on his things: sword, gauntlets—even his shield, bless the Father! No saddle or tack. Just as well. He couldn't carry those and Natiya.

He paused, angered by his thoughts. He was coming to kill Natiya and take the egg; he wouldn't need to carry her. Just the egg. Just the—

His thoughts snapped shut as he felt the prickle of energy increase. It could be because he was donning his weapons. The loga wire woven through his gauntlets gave him special sensitivity to dragon activity. But the ramp-up in power was more than just better attunement. It was Natiya. She was doing something. To the big thing. And he needed to know what. Dared he risk firing up the lightstick?

That's when he heard it: a noise. A lot of noise, in fact. Coming from the front of the mountain near the barracks. Muted, distant, but with a rumble of more to come. Soldiers. Damn! Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it fast.

He would have to risk a light, if only so he could see where to swing. The power was growing stronger, setting his teeth on edge, making him honestly want to kill Natiya if only to end the burrowing power that seemed to be eating through his skin. She probably had to concentrate hard on whatever she was doing, so her reactions would be slow.

He drew his sword, doing his best to move silently. His plan was simple: spark the light, take four steps to her side, then swing—neatly and painlessly severing her head from her shoulders. A couple more moments to retrieve the egg, and then down the hatch he had entered from. He knew he had to do this, even if it roiled his stomach.

D'greth, what was she doing?

He ignited the lightstick. It blared bright—too bright—probably increased by the power throbbing in the room. He was blinded, but he'd expected that. His eyes would adjust quickly, and he knew just where he was going. He'd heard her gasp at the sudden illumination, so he had a very good idea where she stood.

His sword was raised, and he was beginning to see—at least enough to judge head and shoulders for his swing. His stomach clenched tighter than his shoulders, and he held his breath, though his mind continued to curse him for what he was about to do.

And then he saw the Coral.

A Coral dragon. Mature. Huge. Lying on the floor right in front of Natiya. Her hands were on its belly, and its eyes were open. That leathery thing he had touched? That was the wing, beginning to flutter now as it began to move.

D'greth, where had that come from?

Its mouth opened. Sweet toutch, its maw was open and he could see right down into the gullet. Though most of his brain was numb with shock, another part registered the danger. It was quite easy to see deep inside the beast's throat to the sparking light as it began to purge its built-up fire gases. After all, that was the first thing a dragon did when it woke: belched the fire out of its system. Everyone knew that.

Everyone, apparently, except Natiya, because she just stood there, weaving slightly as the power left her, her expression completely dazed. She was about to fry. And the Queen egg with her.

Kiril jumped—no thought, just movement as he slammed his entire body against Natiya, throwing her out of the direct line of fire. Thank the Father his shield was strapped to his back as the fire-belch roared above them. He felt the backs of his legs blister in the heat, but thanks to the treated loga wire in his shield, his back and head were protected. And thank the Father there was still a little water left on the ground as well. Only little puddles, but it was enough to keep them from cooking.

Was that what the Coral had been stored in? A lake?

It made some sense, he supposed. Even if the Coral woke up, it would be damn hard for it to maneuver when half submerged in a lake.

And wasn't it nice that Kiril had drained it? That way, the creature had plenty of space to toast its breakfast to crunchy perfection. Too bad the only food available was Kiril and Natiya—except for a sleeping woman he just now noticed on the other side of the cavern. Well, there was nothing he could do for her, especially as the Coral was between them.

He had to focus on getting himself and Natiya out alive. And that meant diving down the drain hatch.

Still flattened beneath him, Natiya began to stir, coming out of her daze with a murmur of irritation. Above him the Coral was becoming more alert, beginning to stretch its wings and click its jaws in hunger.

"What—?" began Natiya, and again Kiril didn't hesitate. He didn't have time to deal with a struggling woman. With one well-aimed blow, he knocked her unconscious. And then, as fast as he could manage, he began to drag her toward the drain.

Unfortunately, dragons were really good at seeing movement. Colors, not so much. Moving things—oh, yes. And Kiril felt more than saw the Coral's eyes train on him.

Then, miracle of miracles, the soldiers appeared. Normally this would have caused him to curse a blue streak, but they were young and apparently hadn't expected to come face to face with a hungry Coral. If their entrance wasn't enough to attract the dragon's attention, their full-throated screams of horror were. And then, just to make sure they would become breakfast, one suicidal idiot threw his sword at it.

It was a good throw—one that managed to cut a gash in the soft part of the Coral's nose. And that was the seal on their deaths. Once again fire roared through the cavern, and Dag Racho was minus a few soldiers.

Kiril meanwhile had just enough time to dump Natiya down the drain and then skedaddle behind her. It was a painful process, but with the mud coating his blisters and the threat of imminent death above him, he didn't quibble about bruises from banging left and right along the slick, slanting tunnel. His only fear was for Natiya. Sometimes unconscious lumps fared better in this type of free-fall; sometimes not. And if she broke her egg now, no way could he retrieve the liquid he needed to make the poison.

Still, there was nothing he could do about it now. Especially as he shot feet first through the drainage pipe.

He landed in an ungainly heap at the feet of an entire scouting party of Dag Racho's soldiers.

Chapter 17

Kiril groaned, more from the effort of standing than from the fact that his glorious escape attempt had just ended in ignoble defeat. Naked, mud-covered defeat.

He watched as one of the soldiers carefully assisted Natiya. She and the egg seemed fine, thank Amia, but she was still unconscious. She was also so mud-covered as to be nearly unrecognizable—except for the obviously swollen belly that outlined a pretty clear dragon egg. He, on the other hand, didn't have such distinguishing features. Fortunately, the soldiers were very young, probably recruits barely out of basic training.

He tried not to grin. Of course they were raw recruits. After all, who else would you send to cover basic mountain-guarding detail? Let the experienced ones go inside where the trouble was. The others remained outside where all they had to do was scream if they encountered trouble and others would come running. He just had to give them no reason to scream.

He spotted the one man who might be a problem: the oldest, and the leader.

"Lieutenant!" he barked. After all, he had gotten the same training as these men, some many cycles ago, so he knew just what to do."Doga formation, now!"

As expected, the lower-ranking men responded immediately to the authority in his voice, circling around him in the most basic protective formation possible. The lieutenant even began to move, but hesitated long enough to frown at him.

"Explain your business, sir!" the man snapped as Kiril took great, painful strides to Natiya's side. Pain from his blistered feet burned through his consciousness, but that only served to make him more irritable, more authoritative.

"Defending the Empress, you moron! There's big trouble inside." He jerked his head toward the tunnel, and the Coral dragon obliged him by releasing a roar that shook the very foundation of the mountain. The roar of a mature dragon struck fear into the staunchest man's bones, even muted as it was through many wispans of dirt and mountain. This was something these recruits couldn't withstand. To a man, they fell to their knees, quaking and gibbering in horror.