Marked by the Dragon King

Marked

by the

Dragon

King

Caroline Hale

Copyright © 2014 by Caroline Hale

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Chapter One

I’m fumbling through the darkness, my fingers sliding across the wet rock wall as I struggle to stay calm. Am I in the tunnels? My stomach sinks as I realize that I must have gotten lost on my way home. Again.

The most important thing is to stay quiet and keep moving. There are powerful beasts here that never rest and are always hungry. I turn around, hoping to retrace my path and find a way back.

It doesn’t work. I spend at least an hour in the blackness, aimless and confused. Panic threatens to overtake me as my hearing focuses on a grunting breath approaching from behind. I try to move faster, but the beast gets closer and closer.

My feet catch on a stone and I tumble forward, but something hot wraps around my waist and keeps me from falling. I cry out and start to struggle, slapping at the forceful grip on my body. It’s a pair of human hands.

“I won’t hurt you,” he rasps into my ear, his breath heating the flesh on my neck as he loosens his hold on me.

I spin around and a torch on the wall ignites, illuminating the cavern and reflecting in the eyes of the incredible man before me. How could I have forgotten him? I’m not lost at all. This is the reason I came down here.

“Hi,” I murmur, inhaling raggedly.

“Hello.” His eyes lock with mine as I take a step back to get a better look at him. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry that I left. I had to,” I explain, my chin dropping as I stare into his stern eyes. “I came back. I’ll always come back.”

“Not if I don’t let you leave again,” he laughs.

He crosses his arms as his lips smack at the air, blowing me a heated kiss before they curl into one of his trademark playful smirks. My clothing ignites, flames lapping at my skin as fire swirls around me until I’m naked in front of him, trapped in his hungry gaze.

“I really liked that dress!” I say, my eyes narrowing. “I would have taken it off myself, if you’d asked.”

“You know I don’t ask for permission. I will, however, let you have it back.” He snaps his fingers and glances at the pile of red satin that appears next to us on the floor. “But you won’t be wearing it any time soon.”

Sighing, I shake my head and glare at him, but my smile betrays me. There’s no point arguing yet my mouth opens to feign outrage. Before I get a single word out, it’s filled with his forked tongue and I’m moaning his name into our kiss as he lowers me to the cold stone floor, growling as he pushes my thighs apart.

My eyes fly open to the grating alarm from the clock on my nightstand. Heart pounding, I lick my lips to savor the taste of his kiss before it disappears. Why do these dreams have to feel so real? What a tease...

____________

7:59 pm. The clock ticks the last seconds of the closing hour while I fold up a copy of
The Daily Underground
and toss it into the bin. An old wizard approaches my desk and checks out
Cooking with Magical Herbs 101
, telling me that his wife is sick with witch’s flu. His plans to cook her back to health seem genuine, so I give him an extra week on the due date, smiling and wishing him luck as he heads for the door.

The few remaining witches in the library huddle over their pile of books, giggling and daring me to kick them out with silent, sideways glances. No doubt they’re planning a beauty spell for the upcoming Renewal Day Celebration. As if they aren’t attractive enough without making their dresses into the exact color of the sky at sunset or eyelashes that twinkle like stars. I can’t wait for this stupid celebration to be over with. I feel a sense of relief with each chime of the huge clock over my desk. It’s loud enough to stir the girls into closing their books and making their way to the front. I recognize a distant relative of mine among them, but I haven’t spoken to my family in years. Hopefully she doesn’t remember me.

Of course the tall, beautiful blonde leads the way with a sneer and plunks a large olive green spell book down in front of me, purposefully scattering the pile of papers on my desk.

“Oops,” she snickers as she snaps her delicately painted fingertips, sending the sheets soaring back to their place with ease. I will never be able to do that. Ignoring a pang of jealousy, I resist the urge to roll my eyes as the witches saunter toward the door, giggling incessantly.

“Did you know she’s only Level 1?” one of the girls hisses while giving me a backwards glance.

“I know! Can you believe there’s a Merrick that can’t use magic?” her friend whispers just loud enough for me to hear as she shoots my distant relation a sneering smile.

“Hey, don’t look at me! We’re, like, third cousins,” Delilah says, her face red with familiar embarrassment.

“Oh, you don’t want anything to do with her, but you’re quick enough to call her father your uncle.”

“He doesn’t want anything to do with her, either.” The door closes with a thunk behind them.

I breathe out a sigh of relief and blink back tears because I am done crying over the legacy I’ll never live up to. It’s just a last name at this point. The Merricks don’t matter to me and I don’t matter to them.

The twinkle of tiny bells announces the arrival of Fee as she zooms around my head, ruffling my frizzy hair and leaving dust sparkling on my cardigan.

“Were they bothering you?” she asks me in her high pitched sprite voice.

“No, I’m fine,” I reply, hastily picking up books left on the tables into a big bundle to hide behind.

Giggling, she says, “If it makes you feel any better, the tall one has a wart growing on her little toe and your cousin is hiding a nasty scar from magic that backfired on her when she tried to give herself a bikini wax. It must itch like crazy.”

It doesn’t make me feel any better, but I would never say that to Fee. She’s been my greatest ally since I started working in the library. I’m not sure if anyone else knows that she helps me as often as she does. As far as I am concerned, no one needs to.

Balancing the heavy books, I pause to gather my magical focus and form the word for the shelving spell in my head. I can feel the energy ready to release like I always do, ignoring my lingering doubt that it will fail.

“You have that look in your eye again,” Fee chides me. “It won’t be any different this time.”

“It could be. I’ve been working on this one.” The magic pulls at my mind, screaming for release. I close my eyes for balance and take a deep breath before I utter, “Return.”

The books fly from my hands and I can’t contain my excitement as they float in the air toward their rightful places on the worn shelves. One book crashes into another. Then another and another until they’ve all fallen down, like they have a hundred times before. My stomach sinks and I flop onto the floor into a puddle of disappointment.

“I really thought it would work that time, Fee.”

“Honestly Melinda, that was more successful than I expected. You should be proud.”

“
Proud
?” I snap. “I can’t even cast a simple return spell! The Renewal Celebration is in ten days. How am I ever going to show up looking like this? I can’t even cast a Glamour for a decent black dress.”

“It’s a good thing you can buy one up there, then,” Fee says, pointing at the ceiling. “Something sleek and modern. A gown that will stand out from the crowd for its simplicity.”

“I already stand out enough for my
simplicity
,” I grumble.

My only true friend starts to give me more encouragement, but stops herself, obviously sensing that I’m not in the mood. It takes me nearly an hour, but eventually I’ve put all the books back on the shelves, by hand of course.

Darkness settles over the library as I flip the last light off. Fee is nowhere to be found, probably on her way home, wherever that is. Alone again. As I gather up my purse, the silence of the library is disturbed by a loud thunk, making my heart practically jump out of my chest.

“Hello?” I call out, hoping that I don’t get a response. It’s long past closing time and I am the only librarian locking up tonight. My ‘hello’ echoes back with no reply. The silence is deafening, but curiosity pulls me forward. My footsteps break the quiet as I search row after row for something out of place. Glancing left at the last aisle, I spot a large tome sitting on the floor.

That’s odd. Someone must’ve placed it precariously back on the shelf. I crouch down to retrieve it, my fingers curiously sliding over warm black leather.

To my surprise, the book gets hotter as I move to stand up and put it back. The heat spreads through my arm until my automatic reaction is to let it fall to the floor, but instead I find my hand gripping it tighter and my head starts to spin.

The comfort of the library disappears and my vision fills with flames, the strange heat radiating through my entire body. Scorching energy courses through my veins while I shudder, a series of guttural moans escaping my throat. Everything thing that I am, all the doubt, the loneliness, the fear, it all fades into oblivion until the only thing that exists is a raging inferno.

My senses return to me and I look down at the book lying on the floor. I’m panting, my cheeks flushed as sweat drips from my brow. Did I just… no, I couldn’t have, but… I am
so
glad no one was around to hear that.

Possible carnal satisfaction aside, I have never experienced power like that before. It didn’t feel like I was channeling it. I was transforming into it.

Kneeling over, I reach out to touch the book again. An irresistible urge begs me to pick it up and open it. Turning the book over reveals a symbol that is vaguely familiar. Where have I seen this before? My fingers trace the odd shape and it ignites, glowing as brightly as a fiery red ember. The warmth from before is still there, but it’s not as strong. With no hesitation, I lift the cover and reveal pages filled with more of the strange symbols. It must be some kind of forgotten language, it’s not one that I recognize. There are intricate drawings and paintings that I’m desperate to understand, but my hands take on a life of their own and keep searching. I turn to the last page and find the words ‘
Go to him…
’ written in fire across the vellum.

Chapter Two

Tucking the book into my pack, I feel a pang of guilt for disobeying the library rules. The knowledge contained in the Magical tomes isn’t supposed to go Uptop. Ever. But this book feels like
my
book, and I can’t bear to leave it behind.

My journey home seems to take no time at all. Excitement courses through my veins as I push open the last doorway to the human world and step onto the busy city street.

I moved Uptop shortly after school proved to be a nightmare. Without proper magic skills I never really fit in with the witches my age. So when I turned 16, the age of maturity in witches, I moved to where it didn’t matter if I had magic or not, Uptop with the humans. I’m not the only one, of course. There are other magical beings that live here too, but like me they prefer to be alone.

This is where normal human beings live normal human lives. They have no idea what goes on beneath their very feet. The aptly named Underground provides a haven for magical creatures because there is very little magic left in the world above ground. No one understands why magic is so much stronger down below. Some speculate that it’s much closer to the energy fields that run through the earth. Others believe that magic becomes diluted Uptop as there are too many humans to interfere with it. I have no opinion on the matter and don’t really care. All I know is that Uptop is the only place I can breathe without feeling embarrassed. Without trying to fit in with creatures who look down on me for not being able to perform even the simplest magic spell. And of course, without having the name Merrick to haunt me. Uptop is my haven.

I move with purpose toward my apartment, not paying attention to the crowd around me. Just as I get to my building, I crash into a young couple getting out of a cab. Embarrassed and flustered, I make my apologies. I am such a clutz. Huddling together, they laugh and walk off hand in hand as jealousy curbs the excitement about my discovery. As much as I tell myself that I don’t, I wish I had someone to take me out on a date and a nice strong hand to hold mine. An all too familiar longing crushes my heart, but I push it away.

The cool air of my apartment hits me when I open the door. It’s not very big, but the coziness makes it feel like home. Warm fur twines itself around my legs, purring with happiness to see me. Edgar looks up with piercing green eyes and meows with insistence for his dinner.

“Hey Furball, are you hungry?” I say, opening a can of his favorite fishy indulgence and setting it on the floor. My own stomach grumbling, I pull out a box of leftover Chinese food and microwave it until it’s steaming hot. I find myself staring at my backpack while I eat, but for some reason I’m almost scared to open it. My pulse races as my body recalls the incredible cascade of sensation it experienced. I grab my pack and fall into bed, my eyelids getting heavy. The book weighs a ton as I pull it free from my bag.

Edgar pounces onto the comforter and circles around the book as if it’s some kind of prey. His tongue tentatively flicks the cover and he relaxes, suddenly purring and curling up against the warm tome.
Crazy cat
, I think as I push him away so I can open the cover. Staring at the pages of odd text, my eyes close and sleep claims me for the evening.

____________

It’s so dark and cold here. How did I get stuck in the catacombs again? My stomach sinks when I realize that I must have made a wrong turn on my way home and I start searching my pockets for the flashlight I always keep on me. When I come up empty handed, I slide my fingers across the slick surface of the cave wall, hoping that I’ll feel anything that will tell me where I am so I can plot a way out. If only I could perform a decent Illumination spell.

There’s no point panicking, so I start walking in the opposite direction. Eventually I’ll run into something familiar and hopefully find my flashlight along the way.

A few steps later, my thigh scrapes against a jagged rock as I blindly round a corner. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to scream and I immediately pull my tattered jeans together in an attempt to cover the wound, but it’s too late. Blood soaks through the fabric as I apply pressure and trickles down my leg. I can hear the droplets falling to the stone floor, echoing through the deep cavern and mingling with the sound of water dripping everywhere. The noise isn’t what makes my heart pound faster, terrified at what might be in range. It’s the scent.

Once I have the bleeding under control I start moving faster, completely uncertain if I’m shambling further into the darkness or toward a way out. I can feel the wet blood on my hands and I know it’s smearing on the walls every time I have to reach out to keep myself from falling. I can’t stop my feet from catching on the uneven path, sending pain throbbing through my injured leg. So much for not leaving a trail behind me. Could this possibly get any worse?

Right when I decide to sit down and take a break, I hear a breathy, snorting sound that makes my blood run cold. I’m not sure which one of the horrors in this cavern has caught my scent, but it doesn’t matter. It seems far away, but I need to move. Now.

My feet slip out from under me as I rise, kicking something that skids across the floor loudly. The ambiguous sniffing turns into a surprised grunt and I feel the thunderous vibration of a heavy footstep. Either that thing is a
lot
closer than I thought it was, or it’s gigantic. I’m not sure which is worse.

I recognize the sound of metal scraping stone and I realize that I just kicked my flashlight. I scramble after the noise, knowing that I’m not the only one on the chase. My trembling fingers wrap around it and flick the switch. The light will give away my location, but it’s already tracking me and I need to see if I have a chance.

The beast’s grunting breaths echo down the corridor as I start running in the opposite direction. My heart slams into my ribs as I flee, too afraid to spin around and see the thing that hunts me. Where am I? None of this looks familiar at all.

Suddenly I hear the telltale chittering, hissing call of a basilisk. Of all the monstrosities I could have encountered, this one is surely the worst. My eyes start to burn as the acrid stench of the terror’s venomous breath reaches me and I choke, nearly doubling over. My limping step slows as my stomach twists from exposure to the poisonous fumes. I know that I’m as good as dead, but I can’t give up, I have to push through the pain.

Rounding another corner, I see a familiar light ahead and my pace quickens. If I’m lucky, it’s one of the lit pathways through the catacombs and I’ll be safe as soon as I cross the threshold. The official border to the Underground is warded to keep the nightmares that lurk here trapped in the abyss.

The basilisk is so close now that I can feel its body heat behind me. I’m almost there. I can sense the power of the protective force ahead of me, but I can’t see the pathway because it’s concealed in a thick white haze, more like a cloud than any fog you’d find in the caves.

The floor drops out from under my feet as I run into the mist and a startled cry rips out of my throat. I plummet downward into nothing, surrounded by the damp white vapor. The beast above me screeches and I feel the current change in the air. It must have fallen too.

My body crashes into the rocky floor, sucking the breath from my lungs as every one of my nerve endings fires at once. A moment later the basilisk drops next to me, the impact reverberating through the ground into me so strongly that I’m flung up into the air, only to slam back down again. It’s more shocking than painful, but I can’t really see anything because my eyelids won’t stop fluttering.

I don’t need to see to know that the basilisk is close, I can taste its venomous stink in the air. If it sees me, I’m done for. Even their gaze is deadly. My legs are too weak to stand, so I start dragging myself away from the bewildered hunter as fast as I can. Tears streak down my face uncontrollably at my miserable progress. Jerky movements stir from the beast and I can hear in its breathing that it’s waking up. It won’t be long now.

It’s bright enough to see clearly and my eyes drop to the gash on my leg. Wasn’t I wearing pants? Why am I in a dress now? That can’t be right, I must have hit my head harder than I realized. It’s a black gown, sleek and fashionable just like Fee suggested for the Renewal Celebration, with a long slit up my thigh that goes
way
higher than I would ever wear. I did not put this on before I went to work this morning and I don’t remember shopping, so how did I…

The basilisk hisses and rises to its feet. Luckily, its back is toward me so I’m not instantly vaporized, but now is certainly not the time to question my earlier fashion decisions. I freeze, unsure if I should stay still or continue my pathetic retreat. The beast sniffs the air, its head turning in my direction and I instinctually start to crawl away, my eyes scanning the cavern for a pile of rocks to hide behind.

Instead I see bare human feet. My gaze travels up a pair of buckskin pants and I can’t help but linger on the chiseled abdomen above them, even at a time like this. Eventually I’m looking into the surprised dark eyes of the most incredibly gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. What is he doing down here?

His head cocks to the side as he stares down at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. Gulping, I start to crawl toward him as he takes a step forward. An overworked muscle in my side tears as I drag myself along the floor and I try not to screech, but it’s just too painful, I can’t help it.

The beast growls. I don’t have to be facing that direction to know that it’s looking in ours now, and I brace myself to watch the unsuspecting stranger before me meet the fate that I’ve brought to his door. Instead of being ripped into oblivion in a cloud of poison or however one gets killed by a basilisk’s gaze, the man just smirks, almost chuckling as he tears his eyes from mine.

“Don’t look at its eyes,” he rasps, before leaping forward into the air.

I spin around in time to watch him latch onto the basilisk’s neck. Despite the beast’s massive size, he wrestles it to the ground with a howl. Writhing, it screeches as the man tears at its flesh with his bare hands. After a few moments, the basilisk’s skin is covered in claw marks that appear much deeper and wider than they should be. I don’t understand it, the stranger has no weapon yet he’s ripping it apart.

The basilisk stops struggling and takes its final breath. To my horror, the man that saved my life thrusts his hand into the monster’s mouth, but the basilisk vaporizes in a flash of light. There’s no trace of it at all when I open my eyes, it’s like it was never here.

“Why do they always disappear?” the man asks himself, his eyes falling to the floor as if he’s looking for evidence that the brawl actually occurred.

“You’ve killed one before?”

“Yes, of course I have. It’s my favorite pastime, but there aren’t as many as there used to be and—” The stranger cuts himself off as he turns his head to stare at me. “How did you get here?”

“I’m not sure,” I reply, wincing as I try to sit up.

“Do not attempt to stand,” he orders, striding over to me. “Its breath is toxic to humans. You’re very lucky to have survived that encounter. Has your village been attacked by the basilisks? Did the elders send you into the caves as a sacrifice?”

“I don’t have a village and I’m
not
human.” For all intents and purposes I may as well be, but there’s no reason he has to know that. I shoot him a defiant glare and try to get up, but I falter when I’m on one knee. His strong hands wrap around my arms as I tumble, gently guiding me back to the cold stone floor. My breath catches in my throat from embarrassment and I attempt to shrug his hands away, but he doesn’t release me. “Let me go,” I insist.

“I do not want to,” he says, but one of his hands leaves my arm and picks up a lock of my wild hair to inspect it. “You’re a witch, yes?”

“In a sense.”

“Take this red glamour off your hair. I’d like to see it in your natural black.”

My cheeks flush. Who does this guy think he is? “It isn’t a glamour, that’s just my hair.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Look buddy, I don’t know what to tell you, but this is my real hair, alright?”

“Buddy?”

“Don’t worry, I was being sarcastic.”

“What tribe are you from, witch?” he demands, his nostrils flaring.