Dragon and the Princess (8 page)

The space was too tight for her to turn completely, but doing the husband-wife thing on a dragon no longer appalled her, not even when the dragon was probably
amused.

Without a care for being high above the earth, she scrambled up and turned to sit facing Ro. She grabbed his head and kissed him hotly, deeply, thighs spread over his, swelling heat pressing into her throbbing ache, a strange vibration making her want to scream with pleasure.

She broke free to breathe, to grab his clothing. “Off. How?”

But he captured her hands. “No, no, we can’t, we can’t.” He panted it like a man at the end of a desperate race, his eyes dark, sweat running. “Zlinda, we can’t!”

Whether on command or on her own, Seesee plunged downward. Ro was thrown forward onto Rozlinda, so she claimed another kiss. She hardly noticed when Seesee landed, but then stillness surrounded them. Yet that vibration still ravished her, body and mind.

“What
is
that?” she whispered, head to head with Ro.

“Dragon.” He said something in Dornaan, then shook his head, clearly struggling to make sense. “Dragon mating.”

“That’s what happens when they mate?”

Another head shake. “They don’t. No sexes. Or both. That’s what happens when we mate. When dragoners mate.”

“Wow.”

They were both sucking in deep, deep breaths, seemingly in synchrony. Perhaps she was running with sweat, too. She ached.

“Why can’t we? Why?”

He took a deeper breath, let it out slowly and then helped her to stand. He took out his knife and cut off her shift at tunic hem.

“What?”

He ran off the dragon, carrying the bundle of her dress as well as the strip of shift. He tossed everything by the dragon’s snout. “Are you insane?” he said.

Seesee merely blinked.

“Doesn’t your survival matter to you? Doesn’t Dorn’s?”

Dorn survive without dragons.

“Tak durol.”

Not true.

“Grashectalix!”

Happy.

“Fict!”

Rozlinda stumbled her way to Ro’s side and grabbed his sleeve. “What’s going on? Talk Saragondan!”

You and your Zlinda have babies. Dragons enjoy your babies. Happy. True.

Ro turned to Rozlinda, and she saw tears.

“What?” She brushed them away, but couldn’t touch the anguish in his eyes. “Tell me.”

He looked down at her hand, which he took in his. “This has all been a lie, Zlinda. I’m not taking you back to Dorn to be my wife. I’m taking you back to be the Sacrificial Virgin Princess in truth.”

“You mean . . .”

“To feed your blood to Seesee so she can lay eggs. But I can’t do it anymore.” He turned back to the dragon. “Because she has been smearing you with dragon drool.”

Rozlinda looked at the severed bottom of her shift—the part Seesee had deliberately sucked by the lake. “Why, Seesee?”

Like babies. Like Ro’s babies. Like Zlinda’s babies. Happy.

But it was all beginning to sink in, to become a block of ice in the heart. “So it was all to get the SVP back to Dorn for this sacrifice, and the passion was all drool. You really should send some of that in the tribute,” she added bitterly. “It’d be a huge hit.”

“Zlinda, don’t.” He reached, but halted himself before he touched. “Yes, that was the plan, but in hours it was dust in my hands. I admired your courage, your willingness to try to make something good out of your situation. Drool, queen drool, has sped everything to lightning speed, but my feelings are real.”

“How can you tell?” she snapped, wrapping her arms around herself. “You’ll still sacrifice me?”

“No.”

“Not true.”

“I can’t do it.”

“So what
are
you going to do?”

“Return you to your home.”

“A discarded wife? No, thank you. You married me. You will take me with you.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because then someone else will kill you and I won’t be able to stop it.”

“But why? Seesee wouldn’t eat my blood.” She turned to the dragon. “Would you?”

Yes.

“Why?”

Have eggs.

Dazed, Rozlinda backed so she stood equidistant from both man and dragon head, even though confronting Seesee added nothing to understanding.

“You will explain everything to me. Everything.”

Chapter 9

By the time Ro had finished, Rozlinda had been drawn back to his side, to hold his hand, to move into his arms. Entwined, they sat against Seesee’s head, close to one big eye.

“So without my blood, there will be no eggs, and in time, no dragons.” She knew the answer, but asked, “All my blood?”

Too much for life.

Was there sadness in the dragon’s words, or was she adding that herself because she wanted the dragon to care? She settled into thought, but no amount of thought changed anything. She sighed. “I am the SVP. I will do my duty.”

“No, you won’t,” Ro said.

“What is one life compared to a race? Two races, for you seem to think the Dornae will die out with the dragons.”

“I was exaggerating. Our way of life will die out, but we’ll adapt.”

Dragoners go where dragons go.

Rozlinda swiveled to Seesee. “When the dragons die, the dragoners will die?”

“That’s not true,” Ro stated.

True.

It seemed to surprise him. “Why?”

Dragon things. You eat. You change. No more dragon things. You sicken. You die.

“That settles it, then,” Rozlinda said.

“No it doesn’t.”

She looked at him. “Where does mother stone come from?”

“From Dorn. Why?”

“I know that. I mean exactly where. Is it from dragons?”

“Everything on Dorn is from dragons. Everything of importance.”

“Then where does mother stone come from?”

He looked wary. “Dragon dung.”

“Dung!”

“It’s our fertilizer, but it also contains useful minerals. Because they eat rocks, we assume. Dragon-eye jewels and what you call mother stone, among other things.”

“Hralla?” she asked. “Versuli?”

“Versuli’s from drool. Hralla is a plant that only grows on the dragonlands.”

Rozlinda surprised herself by laughing, hiding her face against her knees. “I’m imagining Aurora’s face if she finds out mother stone comes from dung.”

Laughter threatened to turn into tears, however, so she sobered and faced him. “It has to be, Ro. For the dragons, for your people, and for mine. Without mother stone, you see, every child of a woman of the Blood would die in the womb.”

“Not in your lifetime. The stone won’t run out for generations.”

“How could I bear children, knowing daughters or granddaughters would face that? And dragons are special. They must not die out.”

He covered his face with his hands.

She turned to the dragon. “There is no other way for you to have eggs, Seesee?”

Need princess blood. Lots.

Rozlinda saw a young woman sprawled on Dragon’s Rock, gushing blood in a way that had to be fatal. She knew Ro saw it, too. They sat there, a silent trio as the sun slid flaming behind hills, and evening softened colors with mist.

Desire stirred again, powerful enough to blank out even fear. Rozlinda reached to touch Ro, but then halted. No. But surely there was something they could do.

“Seesee, how much of a virgin do I have to be?”

No eggs.

“I don’t have any eggs?” Rozlinda asked, bewildered.

No babies.

“I can’t have had a baby? Well, then . . .”

Not start baby. Changes blood. But babies nice.

“You’re not eating my babies.” Rozlinda meant it as a dark joke, and she’d swear the dragon laughed.

Ro surged to his feet. “You’re both monsters. She’s bad enough, but
you!”

“Which she, which you?” Rozlinda asked, looking up, surprised by how much she simply delighted in him.

“We’re returning you to your castle.”

Night coming.

“You can fly in the dark.”

Need to eat.

The dragon heaved to her feet, waddled away and did her roaring leap into flight.

“How does she do that?”

“Internal gases. A giant fart.”

Rozlinda burst into laughter.

Ro scowled. “She left to thwart me!”

“I can’t imagine how you’ll force her to take me back to the castle if she doesn’t want to.”

“We can walk.”

“I’m a princess. It’s beyond me.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Ro, I saw a vision of you, just before we realized a dragon had come.”

“A vision?”

“You on the road. I don’t think an SVP ever saw a vision before, so it means something. It means I’m different. I’d rather not be different in this way, but if I’m chosen to save the world, I must follow my Princess Way.”

“Your Princess Way should have you back in your castle, doing whatever should come next.”

“Marriage, but I’m married.”

“There has to be a way out of that.”

“If we both agree. I don’t. If you take me back, I’ll come after you. I’ll walk.”

“You’re a princess. It’s beyond you.”

She rose and kissed him. “I’m a princess. Nothing is beyond me. I’ll climb the Shield if I must. I will complete my journey.”

He held her off with a bruising grip. “To death?”

“Everyone’s journey is to death.”

“I will die with you, then.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It is
my
journey.”

“Then love me. I don’t want to end my journey without knowing love.”

He tore free. “Don’t! Don’t you realize how much I want to take your virginity and make you safe?”

“But you heard Seesee. I only don’t have to be
pregnant.
”

“Same thing.”

“Not if you’ll give me some of the stones from your buckle.” He looked down at the tiny dragon eyes. “Why?”

“They prevent pregnancy.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“Perhaps it only works on Princesses of the Blood, but it works. Three stones and I’m safe till my next flowers. Well?”

“It’s nonsense.”

“Trust me.”

He looked from her to his buckle, then unfastened it. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He pulled out his knife to prize stones free, nicking his hand because he was shaking. He stared at her as he sucked blood, and then he worked out more and poured them into her hand. Six of them.

“Better safe than sorry,” she agreed, tossing them into her mouth and swallowing.

“How long till they work?”

“Almost immediately.” She rubbed her hands, which longed to touch him, then held herself because she burned to be held. “Poor Aurora.”

“Aurora, murderer of dragons?”

“I know, but we complained because she kept having babies when the mother stone was running out. But no dragon eyes came after her sacrifice. She had none to share with others, so she could hardly ask others to share with her. She has to have some sense of guilt.”

“You have a forgiving nature.”

“I must. You must. Everyone must.” She looked at him soberly. “Your people are going to have to forgive mine for Cheelus. Mine must forgive yours for me. It will be hard. In fact, I need to write about this, about my willingness. Make sure I have time for that. Before.”

He grasped her tense hands. “You are a remarkable woman, Rozlinda of Saragond.”

She found a smile. “Seven years’ training must be good for something. Love me, Ro.”

“We’re safe?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He drew her into his arms and held her. It was tender for a moment, but another rhythm thrummed beneath, transmuting tenderness to hunger. And now the dragon was returning, beating wings, beating heart, beating need as great as theirs.

They kissed as Seesee circled and landed, her excitement wiping away any hope of control. They tore off clothes till skin slid against skin. Then they were on the dragon, beneath the wing, spiced with dragon smell, one with Seesee in mind and, it felt, in flesh as Ro thrust deep into Rozlinda again and again, and three minds spiraled in flight, then plunged deep into ferocious fire.

Gasping, running with sweat, Rozlinda heard a purred, Good loving.

“A dragon,” she said, laughing, “is a queen of understatement.” She inhaled perfume of man, woman and dragon, loving the hot weight of Ro still sprawled over her and the dragon heartbeat deep below. “Do all the Dornae do it this way?”

“Only dragoners.” He moved off her, gathering her into his strong arms. “The dragons do the mind thing a bit with others if they’re nearby, but this is special.”

“Very. Very, very.”

Sadness threatened, that this would all end tomorrow. She pushed it away and explored every inch of this wonderful man. She played with his long, lovely hair, with his wire-bound plaits and gold-bound arms. She straddled his dark, muscle-hard torso. So hot, hot, hot. She kissed, tongued and tasted while he did the same, the dragon yum, yum, yumming along with them.

Dragon madness plunged them together again, pounded them together again to explode into a million, brilliant stars.

“More,” Rozlinda said when she had breath. “More!”

“For pity’s sake.”

She slid her hand over him and found him limp. “Poor dear. You need food. Seesee, did you bring food?”

Somewhere. The dragon sounded exhausted, too, but happily so.

Rozlinda giggled. She rose naked, stretching out to embrace the starry night, and then ran lightly down to earth. It was too dark to see bags or food.

“Can you breathe fire, Seesee?”

Only heat, and not even that right now.

Rozlinda giggled again as she groped around for Ro’s pack. She dug into it, looking for his flame maker. He joined her and found it. Flame sprang up and they looked at each other, naked in its golden light. And smiled. And kissed.

He shut it off. “It won’t last forever.”

“We need a fire, then.”

“Not much wood nearby as I remember. And no water.”

“Improvident man.”

“Are you willing to try a new dragoner experience?”

“Anything!”

She saw his smile as he lit the flame and used it to find the lump of meat Seesee had brought—and dropped. He wiped it on his tunic. Rozlinda remembered once being bothered by things like that.

She was chilly, however, so she climbed back onto Seesee and snuggled beneath the wing, waiting for whatever wonderful new experience her Dornaan husband would bring.

She would not be sad. How many people had a night like this? She was on a dragon, bathed in starlight, soon to make stupendous love again to the most wonderful man in the world. If this was all she ever had, it would be riches beyond dreams.

Eventually, he joined her with something on plates. Mushy lumps on plates.

She sat up. “Do I want to know?”

“Try it.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

He scooped some mush on his finger and held it out to her. “It’s a prized delicacy.”

She sniffed and caught the sweet spice of drool, but smelled blood underneath. “I knew I didn’t want to know.”

When he put it to her mouth, however, she sucked in a bit. And groaned. “Oh, my stars . . .”

He ate some himself, a noise deep in his throat. “Good, isn’t it?”

Rozlinda grabbed her plate and scooped up more. The sweet, spicy taste burst intensely on her tongue. “I don’t know why you’d ever eat anything else,” she mumbled as she chewed and swallowed.

“Not healthy,” he mumbled back, “only eating meat, even dragon chew.”

That image made her hesitate for a moment, but it couldn’t keep her from shoving more into her mouth, more and more, until it was gone.

Ro scooped up the last of his. “Remember that we only have small animals. Meat is a luxury. We eat chew only on very special occasions.”

Rozlinda licked her plate to gather any remaining bits. “Then it’s exactly right for now.” She put aside the clean plate and licked her fingers as meticulously as a cat.

He captured her hand and began to clean it with his tongue.

“Not fair!” So she did the same to him.

They licked farther and then shared a spicy kiss, rolling together into soaring, drool-fired, dragon-sung sex. Exhaustion overwhelmed them eventually, however, and they woke to the gray light and dewy damp of dawn. And to reality. They lay in each other’s arms in silence. Seesee was silent, too. Rozlinda couldn’t stop thinking, trying to find an escape.

“Isn’t it a stupid system, to have only one fertile queen in a generation?”

“Yes, but it was their sacrifice long, long ago.”

“Explain.”

He stroked her hair, her shoulder. “Remember the animals, the food which led to too many dragons? It was a disaster for them as well as for people. They were eating too much dragon rock, and without that they can’t make eggs. So they changed so they could have egg season only once every eight years, and the Dornae stopped keeping large animals. That worked for a long time, but the time came when they’d eaten the dragon rock down to the crater we now call the Dragon’s Womb. That was when they began to fly over the Shield to seek the rock, which they found. But they also found unlimited blood, and the problem started all over again.”

“Hence the Dragon Wars?” she guessed.

“Not immediately. The Dornae bribed the Saragondans with dragon eyes and hralla and sent a dragoner with each queen to control her appetite. Then Dorn ran out of the special blood, too.”

“That’s what happens when you eat all the carriers before they can have babies.”

“Exactly. But the dragons sensed a new source—the royal family of Saragond.”

“Why should that be? Your people and mine are completely different.”

He pulled a face. “Actually, we’re not. We’re both descended from the rival twin princes, Lorien and Ulien.”

“Because Lorien fled over the Shield. Our records say he and his followers perished.”

“Whereas ours tell that he survived, and after some trials, prospered.”

“How strange. But you are so different.”

“Only the dragoners, and that’s something to do with living with the dragons.”

“Will I . . .” But she stopped her question. She wouldn’t develop the same coloring, because she would soon die.

“So the dragons found the rock and the Virgin blood, and the Dornae controlled the feeding. . . . But we still have the Dragon Wars. The cause was supposed to be the way the dragons consumed good farm animals.”

“It was. Despite all efforts, the dragon numbers were growing. And then there were the princesses. Your people weren’t happy about that, either. So they decided to put a stop to it.”