Authors: Daniel Arenson
She sighed and lowered
her head. She reached out to stroke Gemini's cheek, then pulled her hand back
when he tried to bite. "He's always been a broken man. A child, really. I
think his mother stole his childhood, leaving him stuck somewhere between
adulthood and—"
"Release me!"
Gemini shouted, interrupting her. "Domi, who are these people? Who are
you? Why do you bind me?" He lowered his voice to a frightened whisper. "Don't
hurt me. Please, don't put me back into the dungeon. Please. Please! Don't put
me back there. They hurt me. I only wanted to find you, to love you, to protect
you. All I ever wanted was to love and protect you, Domi. That's all I ever
wanted. You have to believe me."
Cade whistled
appreciatively. "Blimey, Domi, you broke his heart good."
Domi reached out to stroke
Gemini's hair, and this time he did not try to bite, merely curled up and
sobbed and let her stroke him. She had pinned him down with disdain in her
heart, but now pity filled her.
"Poor, broken
child," she whispered.
She thought back to her
times with him. She had served as his firedrake, the beast Pyre, whipped and
kicked and hurt with his lash and spur, taking his pain for a chance to fly and
breathe fire. She had lived with him later as a woman, seeking shelter, food,
protection, and a chance to learn more about her enemy, to collect information
about the Cured Temple and its hunt of her friends. Yet finally, at the end,
had Domi learned to love him?
I could have stopped
him from making love to me,
she thought.
I willingly let him bed me, and
. . . I enjoyed it.
She lowered her head.
I enjoyed the feeling of him
inside me, and I enjoyed sleeping in his arms, and I enjoyed telling him old
stories as his lips brushed across my body.
Even now she flushed to
remember those days, his emphatic yet gentle lovemaking, the peace and luxury
and splendor of her life with him. Yes, perhaps she had learned to love him at
the end. Perhaps she had found pleasure with her enemy.
But those days were
over. Now she was no longer Pyre the firedrake, no longer Domi the serving
girl. She was a warrior of Requiem, and he was a paladin of weredragon hunters.
"We've captured
Gemini Deus," Fidelity said, coming to stand beside her. "The second
in line to the High Priesthood. The third most powerful person in the
Commonwealth." Her lips tightened, and fire burned in her eyes. "He
knows things. He knows how the paladins always find newborn babes. He knows how
many firedrakes fly in the world. He knows if . . . if other Vir Requis exist."
Lying bound in the
sand, Gemini turned to look at the librarian. He spat at her. "Go to the
Abyss, weredragon! I'll never tell you a thing. Release me now or my mother
will bring an army here to burn you all."
Roen approached. The
bearded forester grabbed Gemini's neck and spoke for the first time. "Your
mother can't save you now, boy. And you will talk. I will make sure of that."
Gemini's eyes dampened
again, and once more he screamed.
ROEN
He stood atop the cliffs of Ralora,
stared down at the miserable wretch, and felt an overwhelming urge to kick the
bound paladin down to his death.
"Domi," the
paladin whimpered, lying bound between Roen's feet and the cliff's edge. "Domi,
where . . . where are you? I love you. Please."
Roen's eyes narrowed.
He couldn't believe what those eyes saw, what his ears heard. This pathetic,
sniveling creature, barely a man at all, was a paladin? Was the son of High
Priestess Beatrix herself? Was one of the mightiest men in the Cured Temple,
that Temple which had stamped out Requiem, hunted down the dragon magic to near
extinction, and crushed the Commonwealth under its heel? This worm at his feet?
Look at him,
Roen thought.
A begging boy trapped in a man's body. A coward stripped of
his armor, lying before me weak and groveling. A paladin. A firedrake rider.
One of the men who killed my father.
Whatever pity Roen
might have felt burned away. Rage overflowed him, and he balled his hand into a
fist.
"Domi,"
Gemini whispered. Ropes still bound his ankles and wrists, chafing them raw. "Domi,
where are you? Are you here, Domi?"
"Domi can't help
you anymore," Roen said, voice gravelly. "It's only you and I here
above the cliff. The others are gone. You won't see them again, not unless you
answer all my questions."
Rage flooded Gemini's
face. "I have nothing to say to you, weredragon! Let me go. Release me
now. Do you have any idea how much I can hurt you? I— No! Wait!" As Roen
raised his fist, Gemini cowered, curling up into a ball. "No. Don't hurt
me! Please. Oh, Spirit, please don't hurt me. I just came here to help you. Yes!"
Gemini's face brightened, and a shaky smile stretched across his lips. "I
came to help Domi, and you're her friend, so I'll help you too. I hate the
Cured Temple. I hate it! I—No, wait!"
Roen's rage burned
inside him, hotter than dragonfire. He grabbed a fistful of the paladin's hair
and dragged him toward the edge of the cliff. He shoved Gemini forward until
the paladin teetered over the drop. Three hundred feet below, boulders rose
from the sand.
"Wait!"
Gemini screamed, and liquid trickled down his leg as he lost control of his
bladder.
"I've heard enough
of your pathetic groveling," Roen said, trembling with rage now, twisting
Gemini's hair. "How dare you shrug off your culpability? How dare you
disavow your family? I was there that night. The night Domi and Cade escaped
from your clutches. The night your firedrakes killed one of us." He shoved
Gemini another inch forward, and Gemini screamed, nearly falling, his bound
hands grasping at the rock. "The night you killed my father."
"I didn't kill any
of you!" Gemini shouted. "I've only ever killed one man in my life,
and he was my mother's soldier. A torturer. I killed him escaping the Temple's
dungeon! I too was a prisoner. I too hate the Temple."
Roen snorted. "You
are a paladin of that Temple."
"I was imprisoned!
Ask Domi! She . . . she placed me in the dungeon. And my mother left me there
to rot. I came here for your help fighting her." He blubbered. "Don't
shove me down. I came here to help. To help Domi fight the Temple. To help all
of you."
Roen trembled with
grief and anger. This worm was trying to trick him. Roen knew it. It was like
that in the world. People lied. Deceived. Betrayed. Stabbed one another in the
back. He knew enough of the world to know of men's lies. His father had raised
him in the forest to escape such cruelty, and as soon as they had emerged to
help that world, the firedrakes had slain Julian. So why should Roen now pity a
man of that world?
"You are a liar,"
Roen said. "I will get no information from you."
He shoved Gemini another
inch.
Gemini screamed again. "Domi!
Domi, please! Domi, tell him! Tell him I was imprisoned. Tell him I'm a good
man. Please." He shook wildly. "Tell him I'm good . . ."
Roen's eyes narrowed.
By the stars.
Gemini was weeping like
a child now. Could the man be speaking truth?
Roen grunted and tugged
him back. "I told you, Domi won't help you now. Only I can grant you life
or death. I want answers. How does the Cured Temple find newborns? How do the
firedrakes know where to fly to?"
Gemini shook, glanced
back toward the cliff, then gulped. Sweat dripped down his forehead. "A
map. A magical map, yes. A huge map, large as ship, all with hills and valleys
and towns carved of stone. It's old magic. The Spirit himself created the map,
the priests say. Lights glow whenever a babe is born."
Roen grabbed Gemini's
shoulders and dug his fingers, twisting the paladin's arms. "Where is this
map? How many guard it? How many firedrakes lurk in the Temple?"
For a long time, Roen
asked questions, and Gemini answered. The paladin wept, begged, shouted
threats, called for Domi, and groveled, but he kept answering.
Dawn was rising when
Roen had heard enough.
"Silence," he
spat. Gemini was begging again to see Domi. "I'll let you live for now."
Roen shifted into a dragon,
grabbed the bound paladin in his claws, and took flight. He glided to the beach
below, tossed Gemini onto the sand, and shifted back into human form.
"Stay here,"
he said to Gemini and walked along the beach, heading toward the others.
Fidelity, Cade, and
Domi stood together at the edge of the water. They turned toward Roen as he
approached.
"He talked,"
Roen said.
"Did . . . did you
hurt him?" Domi whispered.
Roen scrutinized the young
woman. There was real pity in Domi's eyes. Perhaps Roen felt some pity within
himself too.
He grunted. "He's
hurt enough already. He claims to have been in the Temple dungeon, and he's got
the scars to prove it, both on his body and his mind. Been tenderized already.
Barely had to touch him before he started speaking."
Roen glanced back
toward Gemini—the paladin still lay tied in the sand—then back toward his
fellow Vir Requis. He spent a while conveying the information Gemini had given
him, speaking of the map, of the positions of firedrakes in the city of Nova
Vita, of the number of soldiers guarding the High Priestess, and of the Temple
layout.
Fidelity sighed and
tugged her braid in frustration. "The Cured Temple is too powerful. How
can we defeat so many firedrakes, so many soldiers? Even should we slay the
High Priestess, another ruler would rise in her stead. How can we crush the
Cured Temple with force, only four dragons?"
Roen cleared his
throat. "We might not have to crush the Temple. We might . . . be able to
strike a deal."
The others all stared
at him, eyes narrowing.
"A deal?"
Fidelity whispered, eyes widening.
Roen grumbled. "I
think you'd better hear it from the man himself. Come with me."
GEMINI
He lay on his back in the sand,
head tilted sideways. He watched the waves in the dawn and thought of home.
As the morning sunlight
fell upon the waves, Gemini tried to pretend that he lay back in his bed at
home. He missed that bed, the bed where he had planted his seed into so many
women, creating pureborn children; where he would lie drinking wine, then sleep
until the afternoon; where he would hold Domi close, the first woman he had
ever loved, stroking her hair, whispering his secrets to her.
Why do things have
to change?
Gemini thought.
Why does the world have to shatter?
He had shed too many
tears. No more would fill his eyes. He had screamed too much. No more cries
rose in his throat. He just wanted to lie here, to watch the waves, to think of
home. Perhaps the weredragons would leave him here. Perhaps they were already
flying away, and he would linger here, bound in ropes, and die on the beach.
Crab food. It wasn't a bad place to die.
It's beautiful here,
he thought, watching beads of light on the waves.
The sand is soft and I'm
at peace.
He breathed deeply of
the salty air and heard a shuffling sound. He looked aside to see small, pale
feet walking toward him across the sand. He raised his gaze to see freckled
legs, a burlap tunic, and . . .
"Domi." A
lump filled his throat.
She stared at him with
those large green eyes of hers, eyes he had been lost in so often. But she was
different now. She was the real Domi here, not Pyre the firedrake, not the
serving girl she had pretended to be. He had known, even in the Cured Temple,
that she was a weredragon, but now he truly saw her as one—a child of fallen Requiem,
a strong woman, free, not needing his protection. Now it was he who needed her.
Now it was she who perhaps would protect him.
I'm the weak one
now,
he thought, and he hated the feeling. All he had ever wanted to do was
protect her. And she had bound him in chains, and now in ropes.
The other weredragons
walked behind Domi, still a few feet away. Domi stepped closer, leaving her
companions behind, and sat down beside him.
Gemini returned his
eyes to the sea.
"I know that
you don't love me," he said softly. "I know that . . . that you lied when
you pretended to. When you lay in my arms. When you kissed me. When we walked
through the gardens, looking at flowers, and when we lay outside at night,
gazing at the stars. When we told funny stories and laughed, or sang old songs,
or just sat holding each other, watching the fireplace. I know it was an act,
Domi. I know that now. I know that you wanted information—about the Cured
Temple—so that you could fight us. But . . . it was real to me." He still
could not bear to look at her. "I love you, Domi. I love you so much. I
was so happy with you. Sometimes when we sat together in that big armchair back
in my chambers, your legs slung across my lap, I'd look at you, and I'd think:
I'm so happy, and I don't know what I did to deserve such a blessing, such a
wonderful woman to love me." A lump filled Gemini's throat. "I was
happier than I had ever been with you. And I understand now. I understand what
I did to deserve you. I am my mother's son. That's all I've ever been. To
Beatrix, I was a stud to plant my seed into women. To Mercy, I was nothing but
a dolt. To you I was a tool, an enemy to seduce." He finally dared turn
his head and look at Domi. "But still I love you. I can't stop."
She closed her
eyes, and he saw a tear stream down her cheek. She lay down beside him in the
sand, gazing into his eyes.
"Gemini,"
she whispered, "I know. I know." She touched his cheek. "My
sweet Gemini. I do not deserve your love."
"You have it
nonetheless."
Her fingers
intertwined with his. "Gemini . . . Roen said that you wanted to help us.
That you would tell me how you can help."