Unleash the Storm (15 page)

“Just because
you
cannot control your bloodlust does not mean other daemons are similarly weak.”

Piper flinched at the reminder of her uncontrollable savagery while shaded—though it had been surprisingly absent from her most recent experiences.

“Ash has the best control of any daemon I’ve met but even he couldn’t hold it together while channeling power from the Sahar. I’ll find another way.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “This is all pointless anyway, because there’s no way to find Ash.”

The spark of petulant anger in Natania’s eyes cleared. “Oh, I imagine he will find you again eventually.”

Piper pressed her hands to the tabletop, stifling a surge of wary hope. “What do you mean?”

“Or, I should say, the
dragon
will find you. You defied his power. He will return to destroy you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know well how the mind of a powerful, prideful male works.”

Piper grunted, unimpressed. “I don’t think the dragon will take the chance that Lyre or I might manage to kill Ash. The dragon might be invulnerable, but Ash isn’t.” She stood. “Send me back. I need to finish my conversation with Eliada.”

Natania leaned back in her seat, a dangerous gleam in her eyes as she smiled sweetly. “As you command.”

Piper’s vision blurred.

“Piper?”

A hand waved in front of her face and she looked over to discover Lyre beside her. Eliada still stood in front of her, her brow furrowed above her teal eyes. Nothing else had changed while she was spaced out.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Uh, what—what were you saying?”

Eliada’s expression softened just slightly. “You did not understand the fate that awaited Ashtaroth or why his death would have been a kindness. I cannot fault you for protecting him. If the gods smile upon us, perhaps the dragon will never return and we will not have to face the full wrath of the beast.”

The old woman’s eyes moved from Piper to the cluster of women and children behind Raum.

“I hope you can understand that we had hoped to spare Ashtaroth and protect all lives from the dragon. We hold no hatred for him—or any of you.” She glanced again at the children. “We can offer you aid for the time being. Your supplies have been destroyed and you will need food and shelter.”

Piper backed away and Raum moved forward to take her place, Mahala and Shona following him. Seiya stood a few feet away, gazing lifelessly at nothing, looking exactly how Piper felt. Exhausted and broken inside, she retreated as Raum and Eliada spoke. She didn’t care what they said or what arrangements they made. She didn’t care about any of it.

Lyre followed her away from the others, hovering close to her side.

“What was that space out?” he whispered. “You zoned out completely for a minute there.”

“I’ll explain later,” she mumbled. Lyre didn’t know about her dreams with Natania, and she would need to outline that first. She was too tired to even begin explaining it all.

“Do you still have the Sahar?” he asked, his voice dropping even further.

Piper’s hand clenched around the cool stone. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed to golden slits. He held out a hand. “Give it to me.”

She slid her fist behind her back, moving it away from him. “It’s better if I have it at the ready. The dragon could come back any time.”

He didn’t lower his hand. “It’s not safe for you to use it. You shouldn’t even be holding it.”

“I controlled it just fine this time.”

“And the time before that, you went mad and killed a lot of people.”

She flinched, taking half a step back from his acid tone and cutting words.

“I gave it to you because we were all going to die anyway,” he continued harshly. “That’s no longer the case. Give it to me.”

She squeezed the stone, staring at his hard eyes.

Seiya appeared beside them, fury rolling off her. She snapped her wings open and closed while shooting a vicious glare over her shoulder at Raum, who was still talking with Eliada. Zwi, hanging off Seiya’s shoulder opposite Zala, whined quietly, her golden eyes dull.

“How can he even be talking to them after they tried to kill Ash?” Seiya said venomously. “How can he even consider trusting them?” She focused on Piper. “What now? You’re not giving up on him, are you?”

Rubbing her temple with two fingers, Piper puzzled out that Seiya was talking about giving up on Ash, not Raum. She wished futilely that Seiya would talk a little slower and be clear about which male they were discussing.

“Of course not,” she replied tiredly. “As long as he’s alive, I’m not giving up.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Piper rubbed her temple a little more forcefully. Since when did Seiya look to
her
for directions?

“I’m going to the Overworld. The draconian legends seem to reference the water dragons, so I want to see if the ryujin know anything about great dragons.”

A spark of hope lit Seiya’s eyes. “Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll come with you.”

Piper hesitated. “Seiya … I think you should stay here.” She lowered her voice and spoke quickly before Seiya could get angry. “Someone needs to stay here with Zwi in case the dragon brings Ash close enough for her to sense him. On top of that, I’m not sure if Eliada is still hiding information or what the other draconians might know. If Raum is taking the others with Eliada back to wherever they live, you might be able to find out more.”

Seiya frowned, her jaw flexing. Her shoulders slumped. “I guess you’re right.”

“Lyre, can you make one of those distress signals for her? So she can call us back if Zwi senses Ash?”

“Already have one.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and withdrew a gray gemstone. “It’s a two-way signal and I have the matching stone. We’ll be able to summon you when we come back from the Overworld. It won’t work between worlds though.”

Seiya nodded toward the brand new ley line behind Piper. “I can use that to jump through to the Overworld if I need to signal you.”

“Then we’ll see you when we get back from meeting with the ryujin.”

They walked over to the new ley line. Despite her exhaustion, she hurried her steps. She wanted to get going before Eliada and the other warriors started wondering about her impressive display of power while defending against Ash’s attack. The possibility that she had wielded the Sahar might not occur to them, but she didn’t want to chance it.

With the rippling light casting strange green shadows across them, Piper turned back to Seiya. She hesitated, then reached out. Surprise flashed across the girl’s face but she didn’t hesitate to return the hug.

“I won’t give up,” Piper promised.

They separated, and Seiya gave her a small smile. “I know you won’t.”

Piper stroked Zwi’s mane. “You keep Seiya out of trouble now, okay, Zwi?”

Zwi chirped, the sound much smaller and sadder than usual.

“Are you leaving, Piper?”

She jumped, whirling to find Kiev behind her. He smiled at her jitteriness. For a second, she wondered how he knew, then realized her deliberate walk to the ley line had been as obvious as holding up a sign.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m going to see what I can find out about great dragons.”

He held out his arms. “Good luck.”

She hugged him tight. “Watch your back with these draconians,” she muttered in his ear.

As he stepped back, Piper was shocked to see Coby, Mahala, and Ivria behind him. Shona, Denna, Raisa, and even little Yana waited nearby.

“You weren’t planning to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Coby asked tartly.

“Of—of course not,” Piper stammered.

Coby reached for a hug, and the next thing Piper knew, she was being passed from one pair of arms to another to give everyone a farewell embrace. Lyre said his goodbyes as well, giving his own share of hugs to the women.

Raum appeared in the midst of the group, surprising Piper. He and Lyre clasped forearms before he turned to Piper.

“So you’re going with Eliada?” she asked.

He nodded. “To their outpost first, then we’ll see. They have a settlement of some kind in the nearby mountains.”

A settlement. That suggested more than just a handful of draconians living in hiding.

“Take care of yourself,” he rumbled.

“I will. And you take care of the others.”

He nodded again.

Together, she and Lyre walked to the ley line. The ancient power washed over her like a warm breeze. She could feel the others watching her, waiting for them to vanish into the line. Even with the prospect of a new, brighter future waiting for them—a chance, however slim, that they could join an existing draconian community—they were waiting to see her and Lyre off. Tears pricked her eyes. If not for the dragon, Ash would have been there too, cautiously excited for this new opportunity, and she wouldn’t be leaving at all.

She blinked away the tears and focused on the line.

“You know the spot?” she asked Lyre.

“Yep.” His brow wrinkled. “Are you up for this?”

She wondered how exhausted she looked. Extremely, she would bet. “I can handle it.”

She closed her eyes. As she summoned the last of her magic and stepped forward into the line, a part of her was terrified to leave the Underworld—to leave Ash behind. Another part of her couldn’t be more relieved to depart this cursed land of darkness.

T
aking a deep breath
, Piper held the air in her lungs, letting the essence of the Overworld soak into her body from the inside out. The breeze tasted sweet and complex, layered with a thousand touches of all the plants, animals, and daemons that lived here. After so long in the bitter air of the Underworld, the Overworld was almost too rich.

She blinked, adjusting to the change in color scheme: from dark stone and red foliage to the overwhelming overlay of blue—blue-streaked mountains, blue-tinted forests, ocean-like blue rivers. Despite her exhaustion and aching heart, a small smile stretched her lips. It felt good to be back.

Beside her, Lyre rolled his shoulders, his discomfort at odds with her newfound ease. The Overworld wasn’t his home, but it was hers.

The thought surprised her. Wasn’t Earth her home? Her eyes travelled across the mountain peaks to the gloriously blue sky, lit by the light of two suns. The heat caressed her face, luxuriously pleasant after so much time in extended darkness. In a way she couldn’t explain, the very planet welcomed her presence.

She walked forward a few steps and leaned over the edge of the cliff. A hundred feet below, the river rushed past. She pointed.

“The river will carry us directly to the ryujin,” she said.

Lyre looked from her to the canyon and back again. He didn’t step closer. “You want to jump?”

She shrugged. “It would be fastest. I did it before just fine. Barely hurt at all.”

His eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Are you serious?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Are you even thinking straight at this point?” he asked, concern mingling with amusement in his voice. “I am
not
jumping off the cliff, even if it only ‘barely’ hurts.”

She glanced back at the hundred-foot drop. It
was
really high. “I guess we can find a lower spot …”

He shook his head. “You look like the walking dead, Piper. Maybe we should rest for a bit first.”

“We can rest in the ryujin city. They’ll have food. And blankets. It’s not that far.”

Sighing in resignation, he slid his arm through hers, and together they started along the path. It sloped gradually downward, following the edge of the mountain. Eventually, the path would end where another mountain rose, blocking the way forward, the same spot where the river disappeared into a cave system beneath the mountains. And in those caves, the ryujin’s hidden city awaited.

The last time she’d walked this path, Ash had followed behind her while Miysis led the way. The thought of Ash crushed the shattered pieces of her heart all over again. She shoved the pain away, refusing to think about it. She couldn’t handle it, not right now. Not until she’d gotten some sleep. How long since she’d slept? She’d napped for a few hours after Hedya had found her and Ash in the abandoned draconian city, but since then, she’d argued with the elders, lost a ton of blood, escaped with Ash, made the long flight back to the camp, been healed, packed the camp, then battled the dragon with the Sahar. Just thinking about it all made her want to cry. She was running on pure stubbornness, ignoring the achy shakiness in her legs with each step. She could rest soon. Soon …

Since she refused to think about Ash, she forced her thoughts onto something else. Was Miysis here in the Overworld too, somewhere in the Ra territory? She hadn’t seen him since she’d almost killed him on the cliff’s edge just a hundred yards or so back the way they’d come, after he’d had his men attempt to kill Ash. Even though she’d never totally trusted the Ra prince, she’d always liked him. His smooth charm and easy confidence had won her over early on, and she’d come to respect him soon after. Not anymore though. She would never forgive him. But part of her grieved the loss of their odd friendship.

“So,” Lyre drawled, breaking into her thoughts, “you were going to tell me about your weird space out while you were talking to Eliada.”

She tensed, her hand unconsciously moving to her pocket where she’d tucked the Sahar. Together, they walked off the path to avoid an overhanging tree, the long tendrils of the blue pod swaying innocently among its branches. She wouldn’t make
that
mistake twice.

“Right,” she mumbled as they returned to the path. She glanced toward the river, but the canyon was still too high to jump. “Well, do you remember how I was able to communicate with Natania, the soul in the Sahar, the last time we were here?”

“Yes, of course. She tipped you off about unlocking your daemon glamour using the Void.”

“Well, after that, I started … dreaming about her.”

“Dreaming?”

“Yeah, but not actual dreams. While I was sleeping, I could talk to her the same way I did the first time.”

He frowned. “How often did this happen?”

“Just a few times, and not since you and Ash took the Stone away. When I was talking to Eliada, though, I thought that maybe Natania would know something about what had happened to Ash”—she flinched when she said his name, holding her despair at bay—“and all of the sudden, it was like I was dreaming again. We talked for a few minutes, then I … zoned back in.”

Lyre walked silently for a moment. “So you’re saying that this soul in the Sahar knows what you’re thinking, since she responded to your thought about speaking with her, and she can affect your mind while you’re sleeping
and
while you’re fully conscious?”

Piper nodded.

“And you don’t find this
concerning
at all?”

“Of course I do,” she said indignantly, not liking the hint of sarcasm in his incredulous tone. “It worries me a lot that she can mess with my head like that, but causing me to space out in the middle of a conversation is hardly life threatening.”

Lyre stopped and faced her. “You definitely aren’t thinking straight about this at all, Piper. What if next time she causes you to space out in the middle of a fight? What if she pulls your mind into one of these ‘dreams’ and won’t let you go?”

Piper folded her arms. “You’re making too big a deal of it. She won’t get me killed because she wants me to live. Same with trapping my mind forever—my body would die, wouldn’t it? If I die, no one can tap the Stone and she’ll be trapped alone. She doesn’t want that.”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re allowing her all this power over you because you think she
wouldn’t want to be alone if you died
?”

Piper dropped her arms, shaking her head angrily and surging back into motion. “I’m not just ‘allowing’ this. It’s out of necessity. Natania knows a lot of things. For example, did you know that Nyrtaroth created the Sahar specifically to fight the great dragons?”

“What?” Lyre hurried to catch up to her. “Natania told you this?”

“Yes. Nyrtaroth was afraid of the dragons. I guess one of them tried to bond with his grandfather, but his grandfather died.”

“Did Natania know anything else about the dragons?”

“Not that she told me,” she admitted. “But maybe I can get more out of her next time.”

“No.” Lyre grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop on the path, and spun her to face him. “There won’t be a next time.”

“Huh?”

That steely glint was back in his eyes, the same unbreakable determination as when he’d drawn an arrow, intending to put it through his best friend’s heart.

“You’re done with the Sahar,” he said, his voice as hard as his eyes. “You’re so twisted up with this Natania specter that you don’t see how dangerous she is. Give me the Sahar.”

“I’m not—”

“Why are you arguing with me? There are no dragons here for you to fight. Give it to me.”

She leaned away from him, trying to shrug away his hand. “I need to talk to Natania again—”

“No, you don’t. She already told you what she knew about the dragons.”

“She never tells me everything. She might know—”

“She’s stringing you along! Open your eyes. She wants you to keep hold of the Stone so she can maintain access to your mind.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. Natania was always playing games with her, but as long as Piper was careful when she tapped the power in the Stone, there wasn’t much Natania could do aside from make her space out at random points … was there? She wouldn’t lose control again like she had at the Gaian facility; no, she wouldn’t let that happen. Those had been extenuating circumstances, after all.

Lyre squeezed her arm gently. “Trust me, Piper. You can’t see it, but the Sahar is too dangerous for you.”

More protests bubbled up in her throat, but as she looked into his concerned golden eyes, she couldn’t voice them. Lyre had never steered her wrong before. If he thought something was wrong, she should trust him. The panic tightening around her chest at the thought of giving up the Sahar was a warning in itself. It shouldn’t be so hard to hand it over.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “You’re—”

Something slammed into her with concussive force.

She felt herself flung through the air—but her body hadn’t moved, hadn’t reacted at all to the crushing blow. Lyre was still holding her arm, waiting for her to finish her sentence, but she could hardly feel his touch. It was almost like she was floating, not quite attached to her body anymore—like that bizarre strike had shoved her mind instead of her body.

“You’re right,” she repeated.

The words came out of her mouth, but she hadn’t intended to speak, nor had she ever purred like a satisfied cat before.

Her hand rose of its own accord and her finger brushed sensually over Lyre’s lower lip. Shock splashed almost comically across his face, and equal shock rushed through Piper. What the hell was her hand doing? She hadn’t decided to do that!

“You’re so very right.” Her voice uttered the words, overlaid with that purring satisfaction. “Such a clever incubus. So cautious. You have always been too wise to fool, haven’t you?”

No. No no no. Piper recognized the cadence of the speech, even if the voice was wrong. It was her voice—but Natania’s words.

Bending all her willpower into it, Piper commanded herself to step back. Nothing happened. Her body didn’t obey her at all, like it wasn’t even hers anymore. This was wrong—all wrong. Had Natania pulled her into another vision?

Lyre let her go and stepped back. His eyes flashed over her face, confusion clear in his eyes. Of its own accord, Piper’s hand slid into her pocket, fingers curling around the Sahar. She lifted it toward her face, rolling it between her finger and thumb. Little darts of white power shot off the shining surface.

“I can’t give this to you, Lyre, my love,” Natania cooed through Piper. “Not after you have so kindly returned it.”

His gaze flashed from the Stone to Piper’s face and back again. “Piper, what …”

“You were wrong about one thing. It is not Piper’s mind I wanted access to. My mind is perfectly functional. It was a body that I lacked.”

Lyre’s mouth fell open in speechless horror.

“In another life, I imagine we could have enjoyed each other very much,” Natania said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper that Piper couldn’t have imitated even if she’d wanted to. “But sadly, I must kill you instead.”

Panic rushed through Piper and she mentally flailed for control, but she may as well have been trying to grasp air. There was nothing to grab, nothing to fight. Natania had cut her mind loose from her body.

Lyre backed up another step, taking a second too long to recover from his shock. Natania closed her fist around the Sahar and power surged through her—through Piper’s—body. Lyre flung his hands up, golden light flashing, and silver power exploded out from the Sahar.

The blast hit Lyre at point-blank range and hurled him down the rocky path. He crashed to a stop a dozen yards down the slope, motionless long enough that Piper almost lost it with terror. He finally moved, pushing himself up on his hands and knees.

“Ah, you blunted a great deal of my power,” Natania crooned, sauntering down the path toward him. “Impressive for an incubus. But I already knew you were talented. Piper can’t see it; she sees a shield like any other, not that delightful, swirling weave that absorbs as much power as it deflects.”

Lyre winced as he rose to his feet. A cut ran over the bridge of his nose and across his left cheekbone, leaking blood down his face. Relief rushed through Piper but faded too quickly, dispersing like smoke in the wind. It was hard to hold on to her thoughts and emotions.

“You must be Natania.” He turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood. “I can’t say I’m pleased that my suspicions about you were right.”

Natania smiled with Piper’s lips as she stopped a few yards away from him. “Do not think yourself
too
clever, my love. You suspected nothing the last time we met.”

“The last time?”

“You may have torn the Sahar from me once, but you will not manage it a second time.”

“Wait, you—you mean at the Gaian facility? You were controlling Piper when she fought—”

“Yes,” Natania purred. “Did you really think her that skilled? You and Ashtaroth would have defeated
her
in mere moments.”

Lyre shook his head mutely, his mouth flattened into a thin line. Blood dripped off his jaw.

“Do you not see? I know her whole mind, every thought, desire, and fear. I know her better than she knows herself, and I can tell you that she is not as strong as you believe her to be.” Natania let out a fluttery sigh. “Lyre, my love, I do think Piper chose poorly. Ashtaroth is nothing more than a loyal dog: a powerful, obedient guardian. He lacks the cunning wit of my Nyr. But you …” She hummed a note of clear appreciation.

“Piper made the right choice.” A note of bitterness touched his words. “Incubi are lovers, but no woman’s true love.”

Natania’s smile sharpened. “Who broke your heart, dearest Lyre?”

His answering smile was just as cold. “
I
break hearts, not the other way around.”

“You’ve broken many, haven’t you?” she crooned. “I could have broken yours, I’m sure, had our paths overlapped.”

“You think so? I very much doubt it.”

“Such confidence,” Natania said tartly. “You have no concept of who I am.”

“Who you
were
,” Lyre corrected, wiping his hand across the trickling blood on his face, smearing it over one cheek. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re still female.”