Lord Dragon's Conquest (5 page)

Chapter Six

They fell asleep entwined. Keltie awoke twice that night in Larkan’s arms, twice more losing her sanity in his embrace. It was as if she couldn’t take her hands from his skin, or his from hers, and she could think of no good reason why they should even try. But the third time she woke, he was gone from the nest of furs. Keltie rolled over, blinking sleepily and groaning at her delicious soreness.

Larkan, clad only in loose-fitting pants, was pouring something from a metal pitcher into a cup. The sloshing sound reminded Keltie that she was thirsty. As if he heard her thoughts, Larkan padded across the floor, handing her the clay cup. His hand lingered over hers as she took it, his green eyes soft and dark with heat. Keltie felt a flush rising over her entire body, that one look awakening fresh desire.

“Good morning,” he said.

She looked away, overwhelmed, and took a long gulp of the cool drink. She nearly choked. It was fizzy, sweet and bitter at once. She swallowed down the mouthful, deciding the taste wasn’t bad although it was definitely not what she wanted first thing in the morning. “What is this?”

He chuckled at her expression. “Mead. A drink made from fermented honey.”

Which meant it had alcohol in it. She could already feel it rushing to her head. Or maybe that was just Larkan’s effect on her. She fingered the rough cup, not sure where to look or what to say. He wasn’t the first man she’d ever slept with, but he was the first who mattered. She wanted to get these next few moments right, to be sure she didn’t spoil things. She set the cup aside.

Larkan watched her every movement, his expression grave. “If it was up to me, I would leave you alone to gather your thoughts, but there is no time. I have been out already, and the den is in an uproar. The queen has declared that the festival is about to begin.”

Keltie looked up sharply. At some point during the night, Larkan had explained the festival to her. She didn’t remember every detail, but she’d retained enough to know that she didn’t want to be around while it happened.

Larkan held her gaze. “The last moments before the festival starts will be your best chance to escape. You will be able to make your way through the den and out onto the mountainside. Then run for all you are worth. When you reach your people, keep your professor and his friends from ever coming back.”

Keltie felt a sudden wash of shame. If she had listened to Larkan and had left the cave painting alone to begin with...but that was an impossible train of thought. There was no way she could have guessed that particular cave was on the doorstep of a dragon colony. Still her blood froze when she thought of the havoc that would ensue if Switzer’s ambitions collided with the dragons’ lives. “I’ll stop him. Somehow.”

Larkan nodded. “Good. I want you safe.”

“But what about...” she began, but snapped her mouth closed. Then she shut her eyes, unable to look Larkan in the face just then.
Don’t embarrass yourself.

He kissed her eyelids, and she barely felt the light brush of his mouth. “I will find you. Somehow, I will know where you are.”

Keltie opened her eyes. “Do you mean that?”

He took her face in both his hands. “Do you think I would forget you so easily?”

“I’m not one of you.”

He gave her a sly smile. “Are you certain of that? I would like you to be.”

And he clearly meant it, but Keltie wondered what would happen once she was gone and a little time had passed. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“Perhaps,” Larkan said softly. “But what I want most is for you to make it out of here alive. Nothing else matters if that doesn’t happen first.”

* * *

Larkan had fed her a meal of dried meat and the last of the season’s blackberries, washed down with icy spring water. It was simple fare, but she’d felt a hundred times stronger after she’d eaten. He had scratched a map on the floor for her with his dagger point and told her about the the trials that would pit one warrior against another for the right to win the queen’s hand. And then he had kissed her senseless. Finally, he had left.

She was to wait an hour and then try to leave. That much of their plan was easy to remember, which was a relief. She might have been a scholar, but Keltie was finding it hard to hold everything in her mind. Where Larkan was concerned, the smallest things overwhelmed her emotions—a gesture, a word, the way he looked at her when she spoke. And right now, if she was going to escape the mountain, she couldn’t afford distraction. It was one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

Keltie crept out of the room, instinctively looking toward the place where Larkan had warned her there might be patrols. The wavering shadows mocked her, making figures where there were none. She let out a sigh of relief. The corridor, with its rough-hewn walls, was empty. Step one was a success.

She crept forward as silently as she knew how, her hand gripped around the haft of Larkan’s smallest ax. After years of chopping wood for campfires, it was the one weapon she felt comfortable with—and about the only one of Larkan’s toys that she could lift. Next came a right turn, and she was on her way to freedom.

The corridors were all but deserted, making progress easy. Keeping Larkan’s map in mind, she followed the twists and turns toward an unguarded exit. Apparently, it would lead her down a stairway to a hidden door in the caves. From there, she knew her way to the road. As escape plans went, it seemed straightforward.

A light sweat made her T-shirt cling, though the still, warm air of the underground was freshened by cool breezes flowing down narrow airshafts. She took another turn, this time to the right. Her breath came fast and shallow, her lungs squeezed by nerves. The paranoid part of her brain screamed that this was going too well. Larkan had said the dragons would all be preoccupied, but where had they all gone?

And then she heard a rumble.
Earthquake!
Terror speared through her and she flung herself against the uneven wall, panic climbing up her throat. She waited, clinging to the ax, as her pulse pounded in her head. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. She really didn’t want to be buried alive.

Slowly she realized that the rumble was sound, not motion. It was the roar of a thousand voices. She’d found her missing dragons. Keltie took half a dozen steps, ignoring the ache of tension in her muscles. The roar was coming from her left, down a grand-looking tunnel lined with torches. Fortunately Larkan’s map didn’t indicate that she had to move toward that fearsome sound. Instead, this was the point where Larkan had said to climb up to a gallery that would take her the rest of the way to freedom. Behind a jutting lip of rock was a narrow stairway. She hurried up the steps, wondering how much time she had. Larkan hadn’t mentioned how long this festival thing was supposed to take.

The sound was blocked in the stairway, so Keltie half forgot the rumbling roar as she climbed. She lost count around 160 steps, and there were a lot more after that. Her thigh muscles burned, but she forced herself to move on. When she reached the top, the roar returned in a wave, louder than before. She fell against the wall, gasping for breath.

Up here the voices were more distinct. Individual cries were audible through the din. Larkan had said the gallery ran beside a central amphitheater, but he hadn’t mentioned that the festival was going to be held right there. Keltie froze in abject horror, her stomach in a cold, painful knot. The dragons were about two stories below the narrow gallery. Rock jutted up, separating her path from the open air. The rocky barrier was high enough to hide behind at either end, but no more than a foot tall in the middle. If she slipped, she’d fall to her death.

Even worse, any of the dragons looking up could see her. She would be exposed the moment she started to cross. Swallowing back the sour taste of fear, Keltie estimated that the amphitheater was as wide as a long city block. That was a lot of real estate to cross unseen. Her hand grew slippery around the leather-wrapped handle of the ax.

And then the roaring abruptly stopped. Keltie nearly jumped at the sudden quiet. The moment stretched painfully, not a rustle coming from the crowd below. Curiosity made her take a step forward, just enough to get a better look at what was going on. From the protection of the shadows, she had a good view of the far end of the space. A ledge of stone formed a kind of stage there, and a group of veiled women in white were climbing the steps at either end of the platform. In their midst was a veiled figure in green who strode to the center position. The moment they saw her, the assembly fell to their knees.
The queen
.

The women in white began speaking, but Keltie didn’t understand a word of it. The rise and fall of the words was reminiscent of ceremonial speeches everywhere, but the dragons seemed to find this one riveting. That meant every pair of eyeballs was pointed toward the stage. With a hard gulp, Keltie began stealing across the wide expanse of the theater, praying no one got bored.

When Keltie was about halfway across, the queen stepped forward and said something in a commanding tone. A collective cry went up, followed by a murmur of excitement. Her Majesty spoke some more, and the crowd got even louder. Whatever the queen had said, it made everyone head for the tiers of hewn stone seats surrounding the open space in the middle. Everyone but the bare-chested Flameborn standing at the front near the stage.

Despite her curiosity, Keltie kept going, moving as fast as she dared.

“Rand!” the queen said, pointing down at a tall, blond-haired man who looked like he could crush cannonballs between his thumb and forefinger. He bowed deeply and stepped forward. “Larkan!”

Keltie paused mid-step. She couldn’t help it. At the sound of his name, she searched the scene below. Larkan hadn’t been at the front of the audience, but a third of the way back. She could see him from behind now. He stood now like a rock in the receding ocean of people, his shoulders squared and set.
I’m leaving him behind.
That was the plan they both had decided on, but suddenly every cell of her body cried out in protest.

Larkan bowed to the queen, his movements stiff. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t on board with it.

Keltie abandoned stealth and ran ahead. She had to get out of sight and she needed a better view of what was about to happen. When she reached the far side of the theater, she crouched behind a rising crest of rock and heaved a sigh of relief. She’d made it across the gallery without being seen.

Her escape was almost complete. To her left, the path led straight to the exit that would take her to freedom. But to her right, a stairway led to the theater below. Both options pulled at her, equally painful and insistent. Catching her lip between her teeth, Keltie grabbed the gritty edge of the stone and peered down at the scene below.

Larkan and the enormous guard named Rand paced toward each other. When they were about a dozen feet apart, they stopped. In an instant, their postures changed—feet braced, shoulders bunched. A moment before she might have believed them friends, but all of a sudden she knew they were about to fight.
No!
Fear for Larkan flooded her. Rand’s expression said that, unlike Larkan, he wanted this battle. And hadn’t he been the huge dragon that had chased them up the mountain?

The memory of Larkan’s body—rising heat and smooth, hard muscle—rose strong enough to make Keltie dizzy. She gripped the rock, telling herself to run for freedom. That’s what Larkan had told her to do. That’s what she
needed
to do if she valued her own safety. But she was transfixed.

Rand drew a knife from a sheath strapped to his thigh. It was a wicked, two-edged weapon with a footlong blade. This wasn’t going to be a simple wrestling match. Keltie’s stomach lurched.

Larkan had told her these trials only came when the Flameborn battled for the position of consort. Sometimes there would be one fight, sometimes many, but the queen chose the combatants from the bravest of her guards. This time she had named only two guards, so there would be just one trial—and it would be a fight to the death.

If Larkan lost, he would die. If Larkan won, he would be the queen’s lover. Either way, Keltie would be robbed of him forever.

Chapter Seven

Larkan’s heart had turned to lead. “I do not want to kill you, my friend.”

Rand didn’t answer. Words meant nothing when the madness of the trials had seized one of the Flameborn—and Rand, warrior-priest and friend, was quite clearly gone. Larkan could see nothing but the fury of desire in his amber eyes and in the twist of his mouth. He had noticed when Rand’s scent changed to take on the musky scent of a beast. His friend would fight for the right to mate, both as a man and as a dragon, until Larkan was but shreds of flesh upon the stone.

Larkan would fight back, if only to save his own life. And without question his beast was aware of the queen. She was not just a young female ready to mate, but the alpha female among their kind. Still, for the mating to work both beast and man had to want it, and Larkan would cheerfully bed a rock troll before sleeping with Nadiana.

And yet he could not let Rand win. Defeat would be the end of everything. He would never arrow through the sky, wings beating the wind. He would never walk among the humans or learn of the wonders of the outside world. And he would never be free to escape and find Keltie. He could feel the softness of her skin, and see the warmth in her dark, dark eyes. He had never known such tenderness. Losing her was unthinkable.

Agony ripped through Larkan, and he roared his protest. As if that were the signal Rand had been waiting for, he launched himself at Larkan, knife poised and fingers curled into claws. But Larkan was fast, turning into Rand’s blow and hurling him to the ground. He didn’t want to kill his friend—he’d beg for Rand’s life if he had to—but he needed to defeat him beyond all doubt. Anything less was a prison sentence.

Quick as thought, Rand rolled back to his feet. He’d dropped the knife, but it had spun out of reach. Rand barely seemed to notice. Eyes were crazy with battle-lust, he reached for Larkan’s throat. This time Larkan wasn’t fast enough to twist away, and the two men fell to the ground in a mighty struggle. Larkan drove the heel of his hand into Rand’s nose and felt cartilage break. Rand bellowed with pain as blood spurted down his face.

And then Rand changed. Talons sprouted from his fingers as Larkan dodged a slashing blow. Rand shimmered in the circle of torchlight, almost fading from view as he transformed in the space of a heartbeat. It happened too fast to see, but suddenly he was there, the bronze-and-ivory beast that had chased Larkan on the mountainside. The remnants of his clothes, torn during the rapid change, tumbled to his taloned feet. His long, horned head reared up, jaws opening to reveal scythelike fangs. Rand’s amber eyes glowered down at Larkan, alight with fury.

By the Flame, he hated mating rituals.

“Larkan!”

Larkan turned at the cry, his skin already crawling with horror. Somehow he knew what was coming, and a single glance confirmed his worst fears. Keltie stood at the edge of the battlefield, an ax in one hand and awestruck terror on her face. Once again, she had come to his aid.

Love and shock stole his breath. She really shouldn’t have done that.

Now she was one small human in a pit of beasts.

* * *

Keltie had seen a dragon before, which was bizarre enough, but it wasn’t the same as seeing someone change into one. She stared in awe, a weightless sensation swamping her. It was as if she’d lost feeling in her limbs, and all she could sense was the pounding of her heart.

Larkan was at her side in an instant. “What are you doing here?”

Keltie heard him, but her mind was snagged on the sight in front of her. The bronze dragon was terrifying, but he was also beautiful. Up close, his hide was supple and smooth, tiny iridescent scales reflecting as if they were a thousand mirrors. His back and neck, darker in color, were actually downed with a feathery coat. The creature was lovely—and deadly. There was no missing the ferocity of his amber eyes.

Slowly, she became aware of the buzz of the crowd. The trial had been interrupted, and everyone in the place had something to say about it. Many of them sounded angry, but she didn’t care. For once in her life, she wasn’t backing down. She had an ax and she was staking her claim. Gasping in a breath, she willed herself to form words. “You can’t be in this fight alone, Larkan. You belong to me.”

His eyes had gone wild. “Keltie, get out of the arena! You’re not a dragon.”

Of course he was right, but that sounded too much like Switzer telling her she didn’t belong in his academic circles. “Better to be stubborn than a coward,” she said darkly. “And don’t tell me to go home.”

Larkan gave her a sharp look. “Then aim for the extremities. You will not kill Rand, but you do have a hope of driving a blade through his skin. And watch the tail.”

Keltie nodded, getting a better grip on the ax and feeling as if a door had just burst wide. “Understood.”

The dragon’s huge head swung down in a graceful arc, sniffing at Keltie with huge, wet nostrils. Larkan faced off against the beast, cuffing him across the jaw with his fist. “She is not for you!”

Rand snorted in what might have been amusement and gave his great head a shake. Keltie estimated that the punch would have felled a bull. Cold sweat trickled down the small of her back. For a long, frightening moment, no one moved.

Nadiana broke the cut-glass silence. The queen gave a sharp command and Rand swung his head her way, lifting his long neck until it was even with the stone platform where the queen stood. To Keltie’s astonishment, the figure in green stepped onto the dragon’s head, delicately balancing between his short ivory horns while the creature lowered her to the ground. The queen jumped lightly down.

The effect on the combatants was clear. Rand remained with his head bowed low, and Larkan knelt stiffly. But the queen wasn’t interested in them. Instead, the veiled figure turned toward Keltie.

Keltie felt a moment of confusion, unsure whether to kneel or curtsy or fall flat on her face, but then she gave up. She didn’t bow for anyone, and with a giddy skip of her stomach she guessed she was probably going to die anyway. No point in groveling now.

“You challenge me,” said the queen. “You do not show respect.”

The words startled Keltie. She hadn’t been expecting anyone besides Larkan to speak English. “You have to earn it first.”

Queen Nadiana laughed, sounding oddly girlish. She pointed toward Larkan. “You fight me for him, yes?”

“Keltie, no!” Larkan exclaimed. He grabbed her hand and rose to his feet. “My queen, this is not right. A human stands no chance against one of us. Not by herself.”

“But she said you belong to her. Therefore, she steals from me, and I fight for what is mine. That is the way of dragons.” The queen’s accent was thicker than Larkan’s, but Keltie had no problem following her words.

The bronze dragon gave a low, rumbling snarl. He had a stake in this game, too.

With a graceful gesture, Nadiana pulled off her spangled veil, revealing eyes as green as Larkan’s. Suddenly the room was in an uproar, as if they had never seen their monarch’s face. “I answer your challenge, human, and you will pay for your insolence.”

Keltie caught her breath. Nadiana was young and lovely, her skin a fair, creamy tone that went with her tumble of fiery hair. Keltie caught the lift of Larkan’s eyebrows, and she suddenly wanted to slug the she-dragon right in her perfect nose. “Then bring it on.”

The queen’s lips pursed as she glanced down at where Larkan’s fingers wrapped around Keltie’s. Then Nadiana whirled to face the rest of the amphitheater. “Rand, Falroth, Barnto, Kaythran!”

Three more warriors jumped forward from where they stood on the sidelines, running to obey the queen while the dragon crouched in readiness beside her. Nadiana pointed to Larkan, giving a curt command. Larkan’s fingers tightened on Keltie’s hand, almost crushing her. Keltie didn’t need a translator to figure out that the warriors were coming for Larkan. Nadiana was separating them.
It’s me she wants to hurt
,
not him.
Not yet
,
at least.
Not while I have her attention.
Keltie pulled her hand out of Larkan’s, falling back as he reached to grab her again.

“No! It’s my turn to fight,” she said, ignoring the flash of his eyes. “She’s not going to let us go until she and I have a chat.”

Just to be sure the chat stayed polite, Keltie took a firmer grip on the ax.

“My queen, please don’t do this,” he said in a low voice, shoving aside his captors. “This is an impossible battle.”

“Don’t argue, lord of dragons,” Nadiana said in a cool voice. “There is nothing you can do. As your human says, we must settle this.”

Larkan bellowed a protest but four against one was too many. A second guardsman turned to dragon form, towering over Larkan in a spread of midnight wings.

Keltie’s courage deserted her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. “They’ll burn him!” she cried to the queen.

“We don’t use fire in the trials. It makes the fights too short.”

Keltie stared at the queen. “Is this a sport to you people?”

“We are not like you.” Nadiana turned to Keltie, her bright green eyes mere hostile slits.

Dragons are predators.
Surely the most dangerous anywhere on the planet
,
and yet they remain invisible.
Keltie was frozen in fear, but a small part of her ached to understand. She’d studied enough ancient cultures to realize something didn’t add up. “Why do you keep your people down here in the dark?”

Nadiana gave a smile worthy of a reptile. “I hear humans are endlessly curious, but clearly they are no more clever than dragons.”

“Is this a guessing game? Are dragons like sphinxes, addicted to riddles?” Keltie lifted her ax. The queen’s smile was a warning.

“Not a riddle, but a truth handed down from the time when the Old Ones flew into the rift. It is easier to wear the crown beneath the mountain than to cast a net over the entire sky.”

And Keltie understood. As long as the dragons were trapped, the queen could control them. They were here because the royalty wanted to keep their power. All at once she wasn’t afraid—she was furious. “You ugly lizard!”

Nadiana’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tongue, human!”

“No,” Keltie shot back. “My odds against you might be bad, but I won’t be silent.”

Suddenly the queen was a giant green dragon, fanged jaws swooping down on Keltie. But she was ready. She swung the ax, aiming for the queen’s sinuous throat. The blade struck, and Keltie felt it bite into flesh. The queen recoiled with an earsplitting shriek, rising up on her hind legs. Blood splashed to the ground, thick, hot drops barely missing Keltie. It was no more than a scratch—the ax was too small and Keltie too weak to do real damage—but it had stung the queen.

Rand bellowed. The crowd roared and screamed, but they didn’t interfere. These battles were part of their rites.

The smell of the blood, coppery and raw, invaded Keltie’s brain. A surge of fire ran through her. She’d made the queen feel her defiance.

Nadiana hissed, her long, forked tongue flicking the air.

Keltie danced, never staying in one place for more than a second. She could tell it frustrated the queen, just as her insults did. “Tell me, do you use a lot of moisturizer on all those scales?”

The queen’s head snaked again, snapping the air where Keltie had been a moment before.

She could hear the males fighting, the roars getting louder as another, and then another, took to dragon form. Keltie didn’t dare look. A moment’s lapse could mean her life. All she could do was hold Larkan close in her heart.

Another snap, another miss. If Keltie stayed close to the dragon’s body, she would be harder to catch. And the longer she could make Nadiana chase her, the more she could wear the queen down. She couldn’t beat a dragon with strength, but she might with sheer, dogged persistence.

Nadiana crouched, twisting her head around in an attempt to chomp Keltie in half. It was an awkward angle, but it would have worked if Keltie hadn’t scrabbled up her tail, finding the one spot between the dragon’s shoulders that it couldn’t quite reach. Nadiana reared up, clearly trying to dump Keltie to the ground, but Keltie grabbed the feathery coat on the dragon’s back with her free hand. Nadiana fell forward again, and Keltie pulled herself up to gain a better seat. She’d ridden horses and elephants and even a camel once. A dragon was just one more beast.

Nadiana stretched her pale green wings. The surge of muscle and tendon nearly threw Keltie off, but she lay down on the queen’s bony spine and clung for dear life. That worked fine until Nadiana tried to roll. Keltie jumped off just in time, scrambling clear of the dragon’s body—only to find herself trapped between the queen and the first row of stone seats.

Nadiana hissed, a burst of smoke and flame scorching the air.

“I thought you said flaming your opponent was poor sportsmanship!” Keltie dove between the dragon’s legs and ran, taking a swipe at the long spiked tail on the way through. Nadiana squealed, thrashing her wounded tail like a whip. It caught Keltie in the ribs and sent her tumbling across the ground. She lost the ax, skidding to a halt. Stunned, Keltie tried to suck in air, but she’d been winded. The most she could manage was a sickly wheeze.

She wasn’t going to last long at this rate. If she was going to beat Nadiana, she had to do better, and she would. She was too stubborn to give up. Determination was the only way she ever got anywhere, whether it was in Switzer’s seminars or against her army of brothers. Why would fighting a dragon be any different?

Of course, getting up would be an excellent start, but at that moment moving was out of the question.

Two of the other dragons bellowed at each other like enraged bulls. Keltie caught a glimpse of the Flameborn, and none of them was human anymore. They were a tangle of wings and tails and teeth. She managed to get one hand under her and push herself up just in time to see Nadiana stalking her way, haunches in the air like a prowling cat. The queen pounced.

There was a snap of leather and a whoosh of wind. Jaws closed around Keltie, snatching her out of reach of the queen. The dragon beat the air, and with a lurch of her stomach Keltie swooped into the air. Nadiana roared in protest, but it was too late.