Into the Wind (33 page)

Authors: Shira Anthony

BOOK: Into the Wind

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Ian clasped his hand and nodded. Together they passed through the barrier to find Odhrán waiting for them. The water was warmer in the interior, but not so warm that it felt uncomfortable. Like a loving embrace: comforting, even reassuring. How strange that he thought of it that way! And yet it reminded him of the sweetness of his mother’s arms from his vision.

With Odhrán leading the way, they swam toward the reddish glow at the center of the whirlpool. It took only a few minutes since the water wasn’t all that deep. Taren sensed they’d nearly reached the bottom, but he couldn’t see the ocean floor. He stopped short when he saw what appeared to be a solid sphere, several times larger than Odhrán, which spun around like a planet on its axis.

What is it?
Taren asked.

“I don’t know.”
Odhrán maneuvered himself so his larger body shielded Ian and Taren from the heat radiating from the surface of the strange object. The temperature of the water was now so hot, it was barely tolerable. Odhrán might be able to withstand it, but Taren doubted he or Ian could for long.

“I can make this a bit more comfortable,”
Odhrán said. He breathed deeply and ice crystals begin to form on his skin. They covered Odhrán’s arms, his tail, and ended at his shoulders. They reminded Taren of tiny diamonds. They glittered and multiplied, then melted in the heat, cooling the water around them. When one layer vanished, another sprouted where it had been.

“Thank you.”
Ian’s voice held surprise and wonder, even a bit of admiration.

Odhrán nodded curtly. Taren sensed Odhrán’s discomfort with Ian’s gratitude. Ian probably did too, since in this form, Odhrán’s thoughts were open to him as well. Later Taren would try to explain the depth of Odhrán’s grief over his treatment by the Ea. But now was not the time, and he would only speak of it with Odhrán’s consent.

They swam a few more yards, then hovered above the swirling, glowing core. This close, Taren saw that the sphere wasn’t solid at all but a pattern of energy that spun so quickly it retained a cohesive shape. The sphere was occupied. At its center, tiny against the backdrop of the swirling light, was the dark form of a child of four or five years. The boy—for Taren sensed he
was
indeed a boy—clutched his knees against his chest as his hair moved about him, lifted by an invisible wind. Taren struggled to make out the child’s features—the brightness made it impossible to see clearly.

Ignoring Ian and Odhrán’s warnings, Taren reached out and touched the sphere. The magic felt so familiar. Comforting, even. How he sensed this, he didn’t know. He knew that Treande had been a mage. Odhrán, when he’d pretended to be Brynn, had once asked him if he was a mage. Vurin believed him to be one. Then, he’d dismissed the thought. Yet each time he encountered magic, the sensation was familiar. Was it possible that the old priestess had been right?

I’m fine
, he said, hoping to reassure his companions.
He won’t hurt me.
He wasn’t sure how he knew this, but he
was
sure of it.

The boy inside the orb stirred at Taren’s touch. He released his knees and cocked his head to one side, studying them with apparent curiosity, just as they studied him. After a moment he got to his feet and stretched his arms above his head, as if waking from a deep sleep. As he reached above him, a pair of wings burst from his body, covered in a riot of colorful scales that reminded Taren of the multihued plumage of exotic birds he’d seen when the
Sea Witch
had put in to port.

A dragon!

“Not merely a dragon,”
Odhrán said, unable to contain his shock.
“Anuki. The ancient race. Man-beast.”

“Our heavenly counterparts,”
Ian said with wonder.

“I thought they were long extinct
.
”

Taren’s heart raced. Was it possible?

“The legends tell of death and rebirth,”
Ian explained.
“I heard them too, when I was a child. Anuki die with their loved ones and are reborn to live again.”

To love again
,
Taren said.

“Aye.”

The dragon child shuddered, causing the scales on his wings to ruffle like the feathers they called to mind. Ian moved to pull Taren away, but Taren shook his head.
No. He won’t hurt me.

The boy approached and pressed his palm to the inside surface of the sphere. He gazed directly at Taren with eyes the color of the sky at sunset, a swirling mix of yellow, orange, and red. He was crying, each tear that coursed down his freckled cheeks like a tiny ruby lit from within, each disappearing into the swirling orange-and-red fog that filled the sphere.

Taren lifted his hand to the orb and touched it with shaking fingers.
Bastian!

About the Author

S
HIRA
A
NTHONY
was a professional opera singer in her last incarnation, performing roles in such operas as
Tosca
,
Pagliacci
, and
La Traviata
, among others. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle.

Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs, and when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying to make the world safer for children. When she’s not working, she can be found aboard a 35’ catamaran at the Carolina coast with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel.

Shira’s Blue Notes Series of classical music themed gay romances was named one of Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Word’s “Best Series of 2012,” and
The Melody Thief
was named one of the “Best Novels in a Series of 2012.”
The Melody Thief
also received an honorable mention, “One Perfect Score” at the 2012 Rainbow Awards.

Shira can be found on:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shira.anthony

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4641776.Shira_Anthony

Twitter: @WriterShira

Website: http://www.shiraanthony.com

Mermen of Ea from
S
HIRA
A
NTHONY