FireDrake (29 page)

The inhabitants of Gryphon Isle also gave them warm cloaks and kitted Drake out with a spare shirt and leggings as well as a pack to keep them in. The garments and tack, made by their best artisans, were of the highest quality.

Drake had felt odd accepting such costly gifts at first, but the people had insisted, gifting them all with matching bags. Krysta especially loved the delicate designs on the leatherwork. She’d preened like a sparrow when she saw one of the packs was meant for her and thanked their hosts effusively.

The riders dismounted and Wil changed form so he could join them for a bit of lunch. They didn’t spend a long time at it, but ate well and quickly, stretching their muscles before remounting.

“It’s good to be back on Draconian soil,” Wil said contemplatively as he lingered over his last bite of seed bread. “I feel the land welcoming me. It’s a good feeling.”

“I know what you mean.” Drake nodded. “I returned last week after fifteen years. I was dreading the meeting with my family, but still it felt good when I crossed that last border. Even though I knew I had to face my fathers.” Drake laughed wryly at his own fears.

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“I feel some of that. I’m a little worried about how Rol will react,” Wil admitted with a shrug, “but all in all, it’s good to be home.”

“On the way down we camped, but I think we can stop in the town of Bayberry Heath for tonight,” Mace said. “As I recall, they had a nice inn with good food, for all that it’s close to the border.”

“I think the royal treasury would cover that,” Wil said with a facetious grin. “Or Drake could always sing for our supper.”

Drake laughed. “Most landlords will cover my own room and board in exchange for a few songs—maybe my lady’s too—but the rest of you are on your own.”

“Now is that any way to treat your brothers-in-arms?” Wil nudged Mace in the ribs, grinning. Mace even cracked a smile, making the ribbing all worthwhile.

“Regardless, I still have some coin that ought to cover a decent bed and a hearty dinner.”

“Nellin and I have been to Bayberry Heath before. It’s a nice little town, though it was attacked when the Skithdronian army came through a few seasons ago. They’ve rebuilt well since then and they have accommodation for dragons. They’re used to patrollers from the Border Lair stopping by every week or so. We might be able to get news of what’s been going on since we left.”

“It’s a good plan,” Drake agreed.

After lunch, they all remounted and Wil transformed back into the black dragon that was his birthright. They launched from the hard-packed sand and took to the sky as the noon sun started its slow descent toward the horizon. They would have an hour or so of light left when they reached Bayberry Heath.

Krysta rode with Drake, for which he was grateful. He liked having her warm body next to him. Liked being able to touch her as they flew along on Jenet’s back. He just liked everything about his new life, though he never would have imagined it when he’d left home so many years before. Here he was now, a knight, married to an incredible woman who was his match in almost every way, and partnered with a man he’d respected and liked since they were boys.

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Life couldn’t get much better.

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“Do you see that?”
Mace’s thoughts rang urgently through all their minds.
“Skith
sign, and lots of it. Heading for Bayberry Heath.”

“Damn!”
Wil’s tone was filled with anger as he put on a burst of speed. Black dragons were faster than all others, though Jenet and Nellin did their best to chase the prince down.

“Prince William!”
Drake called after him.
“Think about what you’re doing. I doubt
this is a random attack. Could be they’re just waiting for you. The threat from Lucan still
stands. I had good intelligence before you were kidnapped that he was aiming to capture
one of the younger princes. I doubt that’s changed in the time you’ve been gone. You
can’t just rush in there!”

“Dammit, Drake! This is my homeland. My people. I can’t just let them die.”

“An admirable sentiment,”
Mace reasoned,
“but a wise warrior never attacks
without a plan.”

“I have a plan all right. I’m going in. Follow or don’t, it’s up to you.”

They neared the town and could see the black dragon descending, flaming as he went, lighting fire to the trees and the skiths below. But there were a large number of soldiers waiting there as well. This had to be a trap, though how they could have known exactly when their party would arrive was a mystery to Drake. Still, Lucan had devious ways of using magic for his own ends. Perhaps some kind of magic was afoot here.

Too late, Drake saw the machine hidden in the trees. A spear launched toward William’s black hide, piercing his wing as the black dragon cried out so loudly, it reverberated through the air, the trees and the ground itself. Nellin and Jenet trumpeted their distress as well, watching from the distance, just not fast enough to keep up with the prince.

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William went down in a ball of black fire, flaming everything around him as he fell to the ground, teeming with enemy soldiers. The townsmen were trying to fight as well, but were sadly outnumbered.

“Jenet, stay clear of the crossbow. They’ve got those diamond bladed spears.”
Mace rattled off instructions, though he knew Nellin shared his mind as they’d been trained to do. Already the dragon was angling in for the perfect approach. With time and training, the four minds would work together, but for now, they had to make do.

Nellin slowed marginally, dropping down under the fire. Mace could see that Wil had transformed and was swinging those twin sabers of his in lightning fast arcs, though his back was bleeding profusely. He wouldn’t last for long, even as skilled as he was.

As he hit the perfect position, Mace dove headfirst, arms out to clobber a warrior who was aiming a deathblow to William’s unprotected back. They went down in a tumble of arms and legs as Nellin veered off, riderless. Mace dispatched the enemy warrior quickly, then placed his back to Wil’s, fighting with the prince, holding off all comers until help could arrive.

First the dragons would take out that infernal machine. Drake and Krysta could be of some use as well. Though he hated to see either of them in any danger, Mace knew Krysta was a skilled warrior, as was Drake. They could help.

Sure enough, seconds later, Krysta joined the fray on the far side of what Mace realized belatedly was the tavern yard. She moved quickly, Drake at her side. Mace noted flickering flames out of the corner of his eye and knew Drake had called his fire. Armed with balls of white hot flame, Drake lobbed his magical missiles at the enemy soldiers one by one, causing little damage to the surrounding area, but sending soldiers scrambling for cover.

Two skiths slithered in and all the Skithdronian soldiers stepped back to let the evil creatures do their work. Drake moved forward, a fireball in each hand that grew bigger and hotter as Mace watched out of the corner of his eye.

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When Krysta’s short sword was knocked from her grasp, she was forced to use the fan blades Lilith had given her. She wasn’t sure just how strong the delicately patterned metal was. She hadn’t had a chance to test the blades yet, but they were better than nothing. She used the edges to slice her way through the enemy and the flat of the fans were excellent for blocking as well as shielding. More than one arrow bounced off their glittering surface and several blades were repelled by their deceptively beautiful strength.

All in all, Krysta was well pleased with the thoughtful gift. They’d come in handy already. She fought at Drake’s side until he called his flame. She gave him room to maneuver as he began to lob fireballs at the enemy, and when the skiths slithered in, she backed away to as safe a position as she could find.

The enemy soldiers retreated, probably expecting the skiths to take care of them, but they hadn’t reckoned on Drake—or rather the FireDrake. The dragons did their part too, cutting off any line of escape.

Dragon fire was deadly to skiths, but it took some doing to roast them. Apparently Drake’s fire was even more potent. The first skith went down in a ball of writhing flame that flared, but did not spread to the surroundings. The flame enveloped only the skith, not igniting the surrounding buildings no matter how close the burning carcass came to the tinder dry wood.

The flame began to engulf Drake and he faced the remaining skith with renewed fire.

Krysta watched, mesmerized as the fire spread, hissing in the spitting, acidic venom released by the skith as it fought back. Drake’s fire increased, forming an impenetrable shield around him as he advanced on the skith.

No one advanced on a skith. No human, at any rate. Krysta realized she was witnessing something never before seen. Drake was braver than any man she’d ever known, facing down a skith with magical fire as his only protection.

“That fire is something,” Mace said. He’d come to her side as she watched Drake, Wil beside him. With their backs to the only stone building in the square, they were reasonably well protected from enemies, though most of the soldiers had fled. They apparently preferred to let the skiths do the work, and gave them a wide berth to do it in.

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Although, to give them credit, between the humans and the dragons, they’d taken out more than half the enemy fighters. Only a few were left to scamper away from the skiths.

And scamper they did, as more skiths showed their ugly maws near the center of the action. Drake fried the skith he faced in short order. It was easier this time—at least it looked that way to Krysta—and another skith slithered in to take its place. The dragons each faced skiths and flamed everything in the creatures’ paths, but more replaced the ones going up in flames.

Mace had to restrain Wil, though if the dragon prince had really wanted to shift, nothing would have stopped him. But Wil was still bleeding, injured too severely to put up much of a fight.

“You keep watch, I’ll see what I can do for Wil.” Krysta switched places with Mace, doing her best to field dress Wil’s seeping wound while Mace stood guard.

“There are too many of them,” Mace said just barely audibly. Krysta looked up to see even more skiths had arrived, but the dragons were holding their own, as was Drake.

His fire flamed brighter and higher than any natural fire she’d ever seen. It got to the point where all Drake had to do was lob a swath of his magical fire at a skith and it would immediately burst into showering, cleansing flame.

Slowly, the dragons and Drake gained the upper hand, frying the skiths until there were none left. Only remnants of their acidic venom and acrid, burnt heaps of ash remained all around the inn yard. Drake took care of the dangerous acid by skipping magical flame from one area to the next. All around the inn yard, puddles of acid burned away until they were gone, the earth itself cleansed of its taint.

Mace stood on guard, but it soon became evident that the few enemy soldiers left had run fast and far away. He leaned against the stone wall, next to Krysta as Drake took care of the last of the cleanup.

“Something’s wrong.” Krysta watched Drake with wide, worried eyes.

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Mace looked over at Drake, startled by the fire that still surrounded him. Drake’s hands battered against forces only he could see. As Mace watched, Drake’s expression went from anger to despair and Mace knew he had to act quickly.

“Jenet, Nellin, can’t you do anything?”

“We can hold the fire away from others, but we can’t send it back to its source. We
are creatures of fire, we can’t banish it.”
Jenet was clearly worried.

“Drake has to do that himself.”
Nellin sounded unsure.

Mace stepped right up to Drake, pulling back quickly when the flame surrounding him flared hot in his direction. Mace could feel the heat of the fire, but it didn’t burn him.

Guessing Drake didn’t have long before the fire consumed him, Mace stepped forward into the living pillar of flame.

It hurt like hell, but it didn’t injure. Mace grabbed Drake’s forearms when he tried to move back. They held each other elbow to elbow in the way of warriors, grounding each other.

“Come back, brother. Control your magic and bring it to heel.”

“I don’t know if I can, Mace. Let go. I don’t want to take us both down.”

“You won’t. We’re partners now. Where you go, I go.” Mace gripped Drake’s arms, squeezing hard. “Master the fire, Drake. It’s what you were born to do.”

Mace held Drake’s gaze steady as he struggled to conquer the flames and quell the inferno he’d called. Little by little, the licking tongues of fire dissipated, caressing now rather than consuming. Mace gritted his teeth against the pain, but held firm to Drake’s arms, imparting his strength to his new brother.

This then, was what Mace had to offer their partnership. Drake was a creature of air and light, flame and magic. Mace was here to hold him steady, to anchor him to earth and to the partnership.

“Thank the Mother of All that you came to help, my lords!” A stout man approached them from the tavern, wringing his hands and smiling in welcome. “You’ve saved my inn and our village. Thank you!”

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A cheer went up from the villagers. Many had stood and fought for their homes, but the old and the very young were just emerging from scorched buildings to tend the wounded. Wil was still bleeding, but even before Mace could comment, the first of the dragons from the Border Lair landed. It was carrying two—a knight and a lady. The lady approached quickly.