The Fire Lord's Lover - 1 (18 page)

   "Yes, yes, of course," whispered the older one, her hazel eyes soft with concern. "Oh, my lady. Your hair. Your dress!"

   Lady Cassandra rallied in his arms. "It's all right, May. The vine got the worst of it. Truly, Dominic, you can set me down. I shan't faint."

   His lips twitched, but otherwise his face felt rigid as stone. He felt relieved his defenses had not fully abandoned him. It felt… easier to sink back into his elven demeanor.

   Lady Cassandra swayed on her feet, but as promised, she did not faint. The oldest girl fled out the door with a bucket, promising her lady a warm bath and a hot meal. Dominic's stomach growled and he realized with surprise that he felt ravenous. But he hadn't the heart to eat.

   "You're leaving," said his wife in a toneless voice.

   The smaller slave girl watched them with too much wisdom in those young eyes.

   Dominic lifted Cassandra's chin, but she refused to meet his gaze. "Do not blame the messenger."

   Her breath hitched.

   He wanted to enfold her in his arms and comfort her, but a lifetime of training made him deny the impulse. "I will be back soon."

   She nodded and turned away, disappearing into their bedchamber.

   Her servant looked up at him. "She had great faith in the power of her God." And then she scurried after her mistress.

   Dominic spun and strode out the door. The little chit saw too much. He knew it would be dangerous to have servants about. But his wife needed someone to soothe her right now, and despite how he wished it might be otherwise, it couldn't be him. Not yet. For now the general needed a bit of soothing of his own.

   He dragged his feet up the tower stairs, feeling as if the steps had multiplied since the last time he'd gone up them. As he climbed his anger faded, and when he stepped through the tower door he felt nothing but sadness left inside of him. For him, for his wife, for the whole damned country of England.

   Ador sprawled against the merlons at the far end of the tower, his black snout wedged within a crenel, his red-striated eyes gazing at the gray sky. But for once Dominic felt no urge to talk to the beast. He'd sought only the quiet of the tower, the fresh smell of rain-washed breezes, the softness of gathering dusk.

   A gentle breeze stirred his hair and brought the fishy smell of the Thames along with it. Dominic leaned over a crenel, not far from Ador, the stone cool and rough beneath his hands, the solid feel of it helping to anchor him to the earth again. Helping him to lock the horror of the cavern back into the small box in his mind that protected his sanity.

   But he could not do the same with his feelings for his wife. He'd admitted it to himself and her, and now he could never go back to feeling nothing again. She had breached his defenses and he would be vulnerable. And he would do anything to keep her safe… and happy. Fie, he hadn't considered the concept of happiness for so long, he wasn't sure if he could even offer it.

   "I would change the world for her if I could," he whispered to the deepening night, to the stars, to that God of hers that she would no longer believe in. Not after today.

   Ador's sigh sounded like a great bellows, tingeing the air with the scent of sulfur and smoke. "I have waited long and long to hear you say those words."

   "I'm not in the mood for your confidences tonight, Ador."

   The dragon made a loud harrumphing noise like an indignant old man. "So now that you know what the madman has been doing to those children, what will you do about it?"

   "I don't know," he wearily replied. "When will my powers be strong enough to challenge him?"

   "Only you can answer that."

   Dominic's hands clenched into fists. "I have tried to find this greater power within me, and to no avail. The scepter keeps it from me just as surely as it keeps my magic hidden from my father." His fists loosened and he dropped his head in his hands, feeling suddenly weary. "And if I do indeed possess it, as you say, I dread the task before me. Damn this human heart, but the man
is
my father."

   Scales slithered on stone, and the general felt hot breath against his back. "That's the problem with opening yourself to human emotion. You become capable of such great love… and great sorrow. Will you allow it to strengthen your power or weaken it?"

   Dominic sighed. His feelings for Cassandra could only make him more vulnerable. They did not have some mystical way of strengthening an elven's power, or the Imperial Lords would have been defeated long ago. He did not tell this to the dragon, his weariness beyond anything he'd ever felt before, tired of answering hopeless questions.

   Tired of feeling the utter desperation of his life. What would it matter if he defeated Mor'ded anyway? England still had six other elven lords ruling the rest of the country, and they would rise against him as soon as they discovered the death of his father. He could not stand against them, and Firehame would fall. Millions more innocents would suffer. As he thought of that harsh reality, a weight of despair unlike any he'd ever felt before settled about his shoulders.

   He did not lift his head when he heard the dragon rise, when he felt the displacement of air from the mass of the beast's movement. Humid wind pushed against his body from the beat of leather wings and then calmed.

   "It's an excellent night for a star dance," rumbled the dragon. "I offer you the skies of your true homeland, elven lord's son."

   Dominic's head snapped up. And higher still, Ador suddenly appearing larger than he could imagine. Had he heard the dragon aright? After so many years, did the beast volunteer to carry a human upon his back?

   The dragon snorted. "Unless your newly awakened human emotions include that of fear."

   Dominic used his elven grace and strength to mount in one fluid motion, as he'd so often seen his father do. He grasped the edge of a scale near the dragon's neck, tucking his legs in front of the joints of Ador's wings.

   The dragon's laughter shook the stones of the tower, shivered the calm night, and made the hairs on the back of Dominic's neck rise. The crushing despair he'd felt but moments earlier faded, to be replaced by a rush of excitement as Ador beat his wings harder and faster. With a lurch that nearly unseated the general, they rose into the lavender night, wind rushing past his ears, air chilling the higher they climbed.

   Dominic threw back his head and laughed, surely sounding like the madman Ador professed his father to be. But the general didn't care. The freedom of flight, the absence of earth beneath his feet, made him drunk with exhilaration. It felt more magnificent than he had ever imagined.

   Ador showed off for his rider, swinging smoothly from side to side, catching swift pockets of air currents and shooting along them with a speed that made Dominic's eyes water. The dragon climbed higher and higher until the general thought they'd surely reached the stars, for they glowed so brightly, seeming close enough to touch. And the dragon danced between them, a lilting glide that put Dominic in mind of Cassandra's elven dances. And he wished she could be with him.

   Ador finally slowed and dropped lower, until they flew above the shadowed land of England, Mor'ded's red fire geysers scattered across the landscape, lighting up valley and road, fingers of flame seeming to threaten everything Dominic loved. Within a trice, they flew over London, the silvery ribbon of the Thames, minuscule lights blinking from the buildings below them. They flew toward Firehame Palace, the yellow flames that licked its walls making it shine like a sinister beacon within the city.

   Or at least, that's how Dominic viewed his father's occupation of England.

   Ador landed sooner than the general would have liked, a solid thud that shook the tower, snapped Dominic's teeth together. He sat for a moment, enjoying the up-and-down motion of the dragon's labored breathing, the way his own frozen cheeks and hands slowly thawed, and hoping Ador would take flight again. Dominic finally sighed, slid down a lowered wing, surprised to find his legs a bit shaky beneath him.

   He bowed to the beast, the sweeping gesture the only way he could think of to properly thank Ador.

   The dragon grinned at him, a flash of pointed yellowed teeth that had Dominic hoping never to see such a gesture from the beast again.

   "Feel better, elven bastard?"

   Dominic frowned. Had the dragon indeed taken him on that wild ride just to make him feel better? He would never have suspected that the beast knew him that well, but then again… "Aye, I do. You have reminded me I fight for more than just myself, dragon. I'll keep that in mind next time I'm tempted to wallow in self-pity."

   "Good. Then I can tell you that your father will return on the morrow."

   Dominic calmly nodded.

   "And," continued Ador, "he has found the children who fled from the trials."

   "Do any of them possess enough power to be sent to… Elfhame?"

   The dragon did not question Dominic's choice of words. Better to continue the charade than to slip in front of his father.

   "I would not mention it otherwise. There is one girl who promises to be more than even the scepter can guess at."

   Dominic ignored the guilt that threatened. "Then have the scepter hide her magic from my father as well."

   "Must I explain everything to you? The black scepter holds only an affinity for the power of fire. Even then it is more of an… amplifier of that power. It cannot hide another Imperial Lord's magic."

   "So this girl comes from another sovereignty. Which?"

   "Dewhame."

   Dominic cursed. She would have the magical ability of blue sky and water, then. Breden's realm. That elven lord continued to be a thorn in his side. "The elven lords like to keep their nobles close. What is she doing in Firehame?"

   "Hiding."

   "Ah. The Rebellion raises its annoying head again." Dominic didn't feel particularly surprised when Ador just nodded. Of course the dragon knew of the Rebellion. The general hesitated to think of how many things Ador truly knew. And how he managed to acquire the information. "The trials are to be held in two days' time."

   "Then you had best determine how to save her," rumbled Ador. "The scepter feels she may be important."

   It didn't matter to Dominic how important the girl might be to the game between the elven lords and their scepters. If indeed all the scepters were as duplicitous as his father's and sought to return to Elfhame as well. Dominic had brought the child into harm's way and honor demanded he save her. But how?

   "My power is not strong enough to challenge my father yet."

   "No."

   "Then how can I save her?"

   "I don't have all the answers, bastard. Isn't it about time you used your human heart to answer your own questions?"

   The general spun, then quickly held up his arms to shield his face from the force of Ador's wings beating back up into the air. He watched the black speck dwindle into the stars and tried to contain his frustration.

   So the dragon would help him only so far, and Dominic must figure out the rest for himself. He feared he could be only a pawn in this game between the dragon and his father. Yet hadn't he done that his whole life? Become a player in his father's war games? And he'd become a champion of them.

   He vowed he would become a champion of this more deadly game.

   The thought made his lips twitch. Then his stomach rumbled. Loudly.

   He could stand here and allow his head to spin with a million questions and still not have any answers. Or he could go to the kitchens and snatch some dinner and then go comfort his wife.

* * *

The curtains around the bed had been drawn and the fire banked for the night. Dominic stripped off his clothing and slipped into bed, the wonder of his night ride with Ador still making him feel a lingering joy. But Cassandra had not been given a wonder to comfort her, and she lay with her back to him, her body stiffening when he ran a hand over her shoulder.

   He knew of only one way to comfort a woman. One way to make her cry out with joy.

   Dominic stroked the hair away from her cheek, his fingertips lingering on the softness of her skin. He could feel the muscles in her jaw as she gritted her teeth. He slid his hand beneath the covers, along the smooth curve of her waist, over the sweet mound of her bottom.

   She pulled away from him. How could he comfort her if she would not let him touch her?

   "So," he growled. "You do blame me after all."

   Her voice sounded as if it came from a great distance. "No… I… I just wish the elven had never come to our world. With their games and their dragons and their damned magic."

   Dominic sat up, spreading his fingers, calling forth the yellow flame from the magic that sang in his veins. The mellow fire played along his fingertips, lit their curtained cocoon with a soft golden glow. She did not blame
him
. Precious girl.

   He flicked his fingers, sending the small yellow flames upward to dance along the carved wooden ceiling of the box bed. He called forth the magic again and again, flicking it upward, watching it create a spatter of light that resembled the stars in the night sky Ador had just showed him.

   "Magic is not so bad," he murmured. "It's up to the user whether it brings pleasure or pain. Your elven love dance brought me great pleasure."

   She made a dismissive sound deep in her throat.

   He felt a smile curl his lips, looked down at her then, his ceiling of fire casting her in a golden glow, making her brown hair look like silken honey, her skin like shimmering silk. She still lay stiffly with her back to him, the covers snug about her waist, revealing only the smooth curve of her back and one bare arm.

   "Will you not look and see the ceiling of stars I've made for you?" he asked.

   She stubbornly shook her head.

   Dominic called down one yellow flame, his eagerness making it dance and swirl. It touched her shoulder, made a circling motion, and her arm twitched at the gentle tickling heat. He called down another, sweeping the flame against the curve of her back. The next one he brought to her neck, made it curve beneath the fall of her hair and weave its way through the satiny strands of golden brown.