Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (31 page)

Their young grew in great bursts, depending on what their caregivers fed them. That, in turn, depended on what food was available, the season, and whether the mother thought they were old enough to handle their own size and ferocious power. If we were lucky, this ancient mother would have decided to keep her dragonlings small for longer so that they could mature mentally. They rarely did, though, as the mothers needed to eat eventually, and rarely left their lairs without the young. They’d have fed on her treasure first, and meat later.

We’d know soon enough.

My hopes sank as the land changed again and we rode over burned fields. This would be the edge of the dragon’s territory, and she had clearly been out.

“We should stop,” I said. “If we get any closer to the heart of her lands, she’ll sense you. Or she will if she’s as old as you indicated, Aren.”

He nodded and led us toward the shelter of the forest next to the burned fields.

The horses were as on-edge as the rest of us. Florizel landed nearby and trotted to catch up. “This place makes me nervous,” she said.

I placed a hand on her neck as I’d seen Aren do to comfort her. Her coat was softer than a land horse’s, and when she didn’t startle at my touch, I ran my fingers over it. “It’s all right. The dragon won’t be back if everything is dead here. It will be somewhere else, looking for fresh meat.”

Kel grunted. “I think that would be more comforting if we weren’t fresh meat ourselves.”

Aren grinned back at him. “You’re not regretting your offer to come with me, are you?”

Kel straightened his shoulders and looked at me. “Not entirely.”

Heat crept into my face. I hoped it didn’t show in the sunset.

“Oh, for the love of Dryess,” Cassia muttered, presumably referencing some mer deity I was unfamiliar with.

We made camp, and I continued to consider the problem. If Aren’s description had been accurate, we were dealing with a hornback, a strong and clever beast, but not suited to night hunting. With any luck, even if she somehow sensed Aren, she’d wait to see if he came to her. Still, we didn’t build a fire. No sense in tempting her.

Strange that she’d let Aren and Rowan go. I’d heard of dragons developing human tendencies before, but I was certain it hadn’t been compassion that made her release them. It had been curiosity. I hoped Aren was thinking about a way to use that, or something else, to get out of there. My concern now was the young ones. Even if they weren’t huge, they’d be vicious, and wouldn’t give second thought to attacking. Aren had magic, and we had a few small weapons, but if we attacked the young ones, the mother would roast us.

If we can just deter them…

“There’s no chance we can get by without her knowing, is there?” Aren asked me.

“I wouldn’t try it. She might let you go far enough that you thought you’d escaped, and then roast all of us.”

His shoulders slumped. “I thought so. I wish Rowan were here.”

“Why?”

“She’s the one who talked her out of eating us last time.”

So she’d escaped a dragon’s cave and nearly killed Severn. Something told me there was no chance of this person being as impressive as Aren seemed to think she was, but I held my tongue on that. He was opening up to me. I’d take it, and reserve judgement on this wonderful woman. If she managed to dazzle her way out of prison, then I’d be impressed.

While the others got things set up, I sorted through the herbs and various supplies I’d picked up that day. I’d organized everything else and packed it carefully into my horse’s saddle bags, with the plants layered between strips of cloth I’d torn from the soldier’s cloak. I took the cleaned rib bones of the trout Cassia caught the day before, rabbit fur, starflower stalks and nightflare, all of the firegrass I’d collected, several of the cloth strips and a few other items, and excused myself.

It’s difficult to work without proper equipment, but I would manage. I moved far from camp and set the ingredients out in a clearing lit by the full moon. I tested them, holding them in my hands, smelling them, taking them in. The plants I’d picked in Tyrea maintained their power here. The other items would work no matter what. They had no magic, only useful properties.

Starflower to entice, firegrass to inflame—or so I hoped. A dragonling might be immune. Still, it was our best shot.

I’d only need one more ingredient. I brought out one of the daggers that my unfortunate soldier friend had left behind.

“Can I help?” Kel’s voice drifted from the trees behind me.

“You’re getting quieter,” I observed, and turned to him. “I barely heard you coming.”

Kel stood up straighter. “I’m working on it. I don’t think I’ll ever be as graceful on land as I am in the water, though. What are you doing?”

“Trying to be prepared. You might not want to see this.”

The shadows covered much of his face, but I caught the concerned furrow of his brow. “Do you want me to leave? Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

The firm set of his jaw and the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t lying. I wondered what he’d seen in his life. Such a strange man. I couldn’t deny I was glad to have his assistance and his company. Something about him calmed my mind, even as his presence tended to do the opposite to my body. I could ignore that, though.

“You can stay, if you want to,” I said. “Hold the bowl for me.”

He stepped into the clearing and cupped the bowl in his hands, holding it out from his body. “Like this?”

“Perfect.”

I tried to roll up my sleeves. They were too tight. The whole sweater would have to go. I thought about asking Kel to look away. I didn’t want to complicate things further.

Don’t be silly
, I told myself.
You’re both adults. He’s seen more, and probably prettier
.

Kel’s eyes widened as I pulled the sweater over my head, leaving me in a thin under-shirt in the cold woods.

I waited for his gaze to return to mine. “Don’t you merfolk go around without shirts on all the time underwater?”

“Yes.”

I raised my eyebrows, and fought back a smile when his eyes wandered again.

“It’s just different with you,” he said. “It’s fine. Carry on. Please.”

I took a deep breath and traced the tip of the dagger over the skin of my arm, trying to decide on the best spot to get what I needed while doing the smallest possible amount of permanent damage. I settled on the back of my forearm and stroked the tip of the dagger gently over my skin once, twice, three times, building my nerve.

“Use my blood, if you want,” Kel said.

“No. Thank you. I’ve had worse injuries.”

“So have I.”

The sharp blade burned as I made a shallow cut into the skin high on my forearm that didn’t produce nearly enough blood. I cut deeper on the next pass, carving into my flesh. I gasped, and tears forced their way out of my eyes. I bit my lip and tasted blood. But I got what I needed. Dark fluid dripped over the curve of my arm and into the bowl. I flexed my hand, encouraging the flow to continue until blood filled the bottom of the bowl.

“Help. Please.” I nodded toward the pile of cloth. Kel set the bowl on the ground and sorted through the strips, holding them to the light, rejecting the ones with visible dirt on them. I chewed on a stalk of nightflare, which made the inside of my mouth tingle pleasantly as my saliva wakened the tough material and brought out the magic in it.

I looked up at Kel.
How would he react if I kissed him right now,
I wondered,
when it would be unlike anything he’s ever felt? When it—when I—could be something truly special?

I took the plant material from my mouth and placed it on top of the cut on my arm, where the bleeding had already slowed. Even without time to prepare a proper healing potion, this would at least keep infection away. The last thing this group needed was a member of our party falling ill over a little injury. Kel had said that mer folk healed quickly, and Aren had his magic to protect him. As the weak link in our chain, I would have to be more careful.

Kel had lost the twinkle in his eye that usually said he didn’t take life too seriously.

“It’s just a scratch.” I held my arm out, and he wrapped the cloth strip around. Tight, but not constricting. Secure. It could have done with stitches, but going without wouldn’t kill me.

What’s one more scar, really?

“I’m not going to ask whether that was necessary,” Kel said, still not smiling. “You know your business.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“I just didn’t realize your work could require that.”

“Most people don’t. I’ll be fine. Thank you for your help.” I needed to pull away, to finish my project before my blood congealed in the bowl, but I couldn’t look away from his eyes. They looked black in the shadows, but burned with an emotion I couldn’t identify. His gaze flicked down to my arm, and he lifted it gently in his hands.

He bent over in a slight bow and kissed the bandage over my wound.

I pulled my arm away and crouched to pick up the bowl. “What was that for?”

I added the rest of my ingredients to the blood, crushing soft bones with a rock, grinding tough plant materials, mixing it all into a messy clump. Not even Kel’s distracting presence could keep my instincts and training from finishing what I’d started.

He watched with interest as I added grass to the mixture and spit into the bowl to add moisture. “Isn’t a kiss supposed to make an injury better?” he asked.

“Maybe for children. I didn’t realize mer-folk did that, too.”

“Oh, we’re quite enthusiastic about kissing in any form.” His expression remained serious.

My fingers tightened around the cloth I’d picked up, and trembled slightly as I laid the strips out in a starburst pattern, criss-crossing in the middle, and scraped the blood mixture onto the center. It took me longer than it should have to tie the knots in the top that held it closed. When finished, it looked like a lumpy ball that had been kicked through a dirty street by too many children. I wished I had enough materials to make more, but this would have to do.

I left the bundle resting on a fallen tree and stood. I struggled to think of a clever response to his comment about kissing, and couldn’t. “What else are you enthusiastic about?”

He couldn’t keep that smile away forever. “Oh, so many things.”

Gods, that smile. Confident, kind, persistent but never pushy…everything that Kel was, himself. Everything I could want, really. But I couldn’t open myself to that. I’d been hurt by love before, and I had another mission now.

My eyes stung.
I don’t want that to be all I am. And I don’t want to turn him away.

I’m free
, I reminded myself.
My life is mine. Not Denn’s. Not Severn’s. Mine.

Perhaps I couldn’t offer him everything he wanted, but I might share in his enthusiasm.

I stepped closer and reached up to place a hand on the back of his neck. I breathed in the scent of his skin, slightly salty even after weeks away from the sea. “Show me,” I whispered, and closed my eyes.

He wrapped one arm around my waist and slid his other hand up my back, tangling in the hair above my neck. I stiffened, then relaxed as I opened my eyes and saw the concern in his. Such a small reaction on my part, but he noticed. I bit my lower lip, and relaxed. His lips brushed against mine, gentle for a moment before his arms tightened around me and the kiss deepened. His tongue brushed against my lips, testing and teasing. I wrapped my arms completely around his neck and pressed my body hard against his as I responded.

Gods, it’s been too long
.
Too long since I’d felt desire this thick, this fluid, this consuming. I grew dizzy, and realized I wasn’t breathing.

A cold breeze swept through the forest, rattling the branches overhead, and I realized I was also still not wearing much on top. Kel released me for long enough to open his jacket, and I slipped my arms around his ribs. He wrapped the fabric as far as it would reach around me and pulled me close again. Not into another passionate kiss, but to rest his cheek against my hair.

An unexpected pause.

“Kel,” I murmured against his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I honestly don’t know. I feel strange. Like I’m dying, but in a good way.”

I slipped one hand under his shirt, tracing my nails over his skin, and he shivered. He was amazing. Perfect, really, unless he was the cleverest liar I’d ever met. But I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I needed to be free to sacrifice anything to bring Severn down, and Kel deserved better than something temporary, to be brushed aside when duty called me. He deserved love that was complete and unreserved in a way I felt incapable of.

I knew I should pull away and tell him this wasn’t going to work. Better now, before either of us got hurt.

And then Kel tilted my face toward his and kissed me again. A sweet, simple kiss, but filled with longing and promise.

If only it were a promise I could accept.

I
remained awake
most of the night, as though by keeping on guard I could watch for dawn’s approach and prevent its arrival. When I closed my heavy eyelids and tried to find sleep, it fled from me. What I found instead were racing thoughts. Memories lingered just out of reach, taunting me.

Did Rowan bargain for future escapes?
I thought not, but wished I could remember. I knew the dragon would.

Someone sighed. Nox, I thought, probably sleeping no better than I was. She’d said she came up with something for me to take in with me. Not a weapon, exactly, but something to distract a dragon if the need arose. Surely she wasn’t worried about me. She hadn’t wanted to come here to begin with. If I got eaten, she’d be free to carry on with her own plans.

I won’t get eaten, though.
I’d get out. I had to. If I didn’t, Rowan would surely die.

I would approach the dragon as a rational creature, I decided. One could never reason with a young dragon, but Ruby wasn’t like them. She could speak. She could reason. I suspected she felt emotions, but it would never do to appeal to them. It would be an insult to her to even acknowledge that they existed.

The sky turned purple, then faintly pink. I rolled over to block out the light.
Not yet.

The trouble was, everything rested on the whims of a creature that by rights should care nothing for the life of a short-lived creature like myself, any more than I cared that the rabbits I hunted wished to go on living. I would be an amusement, or a meal. Perhaps both.

The dragonlings would only see me as the latter.

Kel rose first. “You awake?” he asked.

I opened my eyes to see his bare feet in front of my nose. “I seem to be.”

“I’m going to find somewhere to swim. Don’t leave without me.”

I nodded. We couldn’t afford many delays on this journey, but I didn’t mind a short one that morning.

Kel soon returned to find the rest of us packing our things. “There’s a deep river not far off,” he said, “if anyone’s interested.”

Cassia and Nox brightened. Nox dug through the bags for a bar of soap as Kel gave directions to Cassia. He watched the pair until they disappeared into the forest.

“What’s going on with you and Nox?” I asked.

He grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re getting protective of your sister. I think we should be long past that, given your history with mine.”

I smiled back, glad for a reason to do so. “Not at all. I suspect Nox knows exactly what she wants, and if that means you, I wish you the very best of luck.”

“You still don’t see it, do you?”

“No,” I admitted. “She’s turned out to be more helpful than I expected. She cured your cough, and she patched up Florizel quite well.” At this, the flying horse glanced up, then went back to grazing. “We’ve had a few moments when I thought we understood each other, but she’s still so abrasive.”

“She’s hurt,” Kel said. “Over the past twenty years, you’ve built up your armor to protect you from the slights and pain that your family inflicted on you. She’s had to defend herself from other trials, maybe more than we’ll ever know. She’s serious about destroying Severn, no matter what it takes, and maybe that makes her less willing to compromise and make nice. But she has a good heart. A strong one. When she lets her guard down, she makes me laugh. When she’s wrong, she admits it and tries to change. Do you know how admirable that is? How difficult?”

“I’m somewhat familiar with the challenge.”

“And gods, she’s attractive.”

“I understand.”

Kel gave me a sly glance. “That little scar on her lip makes me wonder whether she’d like to—”

“Enough!” I winced. “I said I wasn’t going to be protective. I didn’t say I wanted to talk about it.”

His smile turned distant. “She’s been telling me a bit about being a Potioner, and it’s fascinating. Did you know she does most of her work by instinct and by feel? It’s magic, really. Just not the same as yours, or mine.”

“No,” I admitted. No one I knew had ever treated it like more than a learned skill. Perhaps Emalda did, but I’d never spoken to her about it.

“She can’t talk about these things with you,” Kel continued. “You two seem determined to hate each other. One step forward, fourteen back.”

“All I want is Rowan, alive. I’d put up with a hundred Noxes if it meant I could do that. Especially if her help means getting out of the dragon’s cave alive. Did she say exactly what she had in mind for that?”

He shook his head. “I helped her. I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”

Florizel led the horses back from their night in the woods, and Kel and I tacked all four up. We were finishing when Nox and Cassia returned.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Much,” they both replied.

Nox squeezed a stream of water from her thick hair. “I’ve needed that for ages. Are we ready to go?”

“I think it’s time to leave whether we’re ready or not,” I told her, ignoring the way my stomach turned at the thought of going deeper into the dragon’s territory.

We rode on, away from the burnt fields and buildings, back into the woods. I couldn’t say they were familiar. Rowan and I had been walking quickly in the opposite direction last time I’d passed through this area. I’d been burning up with anger, distracted by thoughts of how I’d convince her of her magic, too absorbed in that to note landmarks. I recognized the gentle curve of this last mountain before the sea, though. The dragon’s cave was in the side of it.

Not far, now.

My fear faded, turning to numbness. There would be no turning back.

I stopped when we reached a place that did seem familiar. We had stopped here after we fled the cave. “I should go ahead on foot now,” I said. “Hang back, and stay away when you see me go into the cave. If things go badly, or if there’s even a hint of trouble, you should all run. Nox, you said you had something for me?”

“I have.” Nox dug into her bag and pulled out a large, bloodstained ball of cloth. She sniffed at it, wrinkled her nose, and held it out to me. “Just—wait, I can’t.” She pulled it back before I could take it.

“Can’t what?”

She sighed. “I can’t let you go in there alone. You’ll never get out.”

“I appreciate your confidence in my abilities.” We both spoke in low voices, though I suspected the dragon already knew we were there. “What about you?” I asked. “Do you like
your
odds?”

“I like my odds of seeing Severn dead better if you live, and I wouldn’t be going with you if I didn’t think we have a chance if we do this together. I was thinking about it last night. Many older dragons have an affinity for damsels, and from what you’ve told me, I’m guessing this one is no exception. I’m not sure I qualify, but it might be the key to getting you out of there.” She dismounted, and Kel followed suit.

“Nox,” he said, “can we speak privately for a minute?”

She gripped the cloth bundle tighter in her hands. “I have to do this.”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask you not to. Just give me one minute.”

She led the way into the forest. Cassia brought her horse up close to mine.

“What do you think of that?” I asked as we watched the pair disappear behind a boulder.

Her lips tightened. “I don’t know. I worry about him. He has a tendency toward attachment, always has. It’s not normal for us. Everyone back home knows how he feels about this sort of thing, and we respect it, but he knows it’s not going to happen with a mer.” She shook her head. “I want him to be happy, but this…Aren, he can’t let it happen with a human.”

“It may be too late.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me about it. I hope he can to you. You’ve been there.”

“He can if I make it out of that cave alive.”

She glared at me. “You’ll be fine. Nox will be fine, and Kel will be happy, at least for now.” She ran her fingers through her still-damp hair. “I fully expect you to come out of there with the dragon tamed and ready to give us all a ride to Ardare.”

I snorted. “Let’s just try for alive, shall we?”

Kel and Nox returned. Her face was flushed. He looked worried.

“Everything all right?” I asked.

Nox glanced at Kel, then me. “Yes. Let’s go.”

We left our horses with the others and walked through the woods. Cassia and Kel followed at a good distance, as I’d asked. No one spoke, and not even a bird chirped in the trees overhead. Nox ran her fingers over deep gouges in the bark of an oak tree and shivered. “We’re close.”

“No,” I said quietly. “We’re here.”

The low opening in the rock appeared unchanged except that the ground in front had been cleared of the debris I remembered from before. Ruby and her brood were indeed going in and out of the cave, and responsible for the destruction we’d passed.

Nox reached for my hand. “Not to get cozy. I just…”

“I know.” I gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze, and for the first time wondered whether having her in my life would have made it better through all the lonely years. “It’s going to be fine.”

We stepped into the shadows of the mountain and into the cave’s low, gaping mouth. Warm air surrounded us as we crept down the passage that led to the main cavern, and dim light showed the way.

“She’s here,” I whispered.

Nox motioned for me to go forward.

A deafening noise somewhere between a shriek and a roar echoed down the passage.

“I think they’re expecting us,” Nox said, and pushed me behind an angle of rock that jutted out into the passage. A moment later a blast of fire shot past us—small, but hot enough that I broke into a sweat.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah. Any ideas on how we’re going to make it the rest of the way without getting cooked? We can’t go back now.”

“Not really.” I stepped out from behind the rock. “Ruby!” Another shriek answered me, and a scuffling noise, followed by a yelp.

“Well,” said a rough voice that sent shivers rippling over my skin. “I had begun to think you weren’t coming back.”

“May we enter? Or will your young attack?”

She let out a low, purring sound. “I think I can hold them back. Come.”

Nox’s face paled, but she set her jaw and stepped out from behind the rock. I was glad to have her with me, and perhaps she was right in thinking that a feminine presence would help. I only hoped she wouldn’t say or do anything that would put us into more danger.

The cavern had changed little. The shallow pool that the dragonlings had been resting in was nearly empty, and two dragons the size of ponies sat at their mother’s back feet. Both were the color of pale cream, with translucent wings and red eyes. The larger of the two hissed at us, and one of Ruby’s massive, red forepaws clouted it over the head.

She was no less impressive this time than she had been before—red scales glowing with a dull light, sinuous body curving around the back of the cavern, gray spikes gleaming down the length of her spine, wings of the same color folded neatly.

Not everything was as I remembered, though. She held her head a little lower, and she was missing a small patch of scales on her side. One of her many horns had broken half-off.

She shifted to lie on her belly like a cat, leaning forward on her elbows, and stretched her neck toward us. Her nostrils widened as she inhaled a breath large enough that it pulled Nox’s hair forward. Nox winced, but held her ground.

“That’s the wrong one,” Ruby observed.

“My sister,” I said.

The dragon blinked slowly. “Where’s the other girl? Rowan? I wanted her to come back.” She let out a hot breath, and I became light-headed.

“She would if she could,” I said, and wished I’d thought to take a drink to wet my mouth before we entered the cave. “She’s been captured. We’re on our way to get her.”

“Are you? Interesting.” She didn’t sound particularly interested.

Keep her talking
.

“Your young have grown an impressive amount since I last saw them,” I said.

That comment seemed to please her. “Indeed, they’re doing well. They’ve nearly destroyed my treasure stores and the animal population around here to do it, but that’s as it should be. We don’t waste time like your species does.” She cocked her head to the side. “On with the story, then. Tell me what happened after you left my cave, until right now. And I warn you, I’m not in a generous or receptive mood. If you displease me, I will consume you.”

Nox sat in the mouth of the tunnel, and I stepped farther into the cavern and took a seat on the rock where I’d found Rowan on our first visit.

I looked at the dragonlings again. There had been three before. No wonder Ruby wasn’t feeling generous, if something had happened to the third.

Rowan would have done a better job of it. Thanks to the numerous times I’d already told the story, I was able to recall events and many things people had said along the way, but I still did little more than summarize. Ruby listened. She interrupted occasionally to ask questions, or to order more details about things like the Grotto, or what types of food had been served at the banquet we’d shared with the merfolk there. She was particularly interested when I reached the part where Rowan’s magic broke free, and chuckled when I told her that the scale that Rowan had claimed as her prize from Ruby had probably saved her life when it happened.

“Oh, that’s good,” she said. “That’s perfect. I was so angry with her for not taking my treasure, but this worked out well. Quite fitting.” She snorted, and the dragonling on her left reared up on his hind legs and whined.

Ruby swatted at him again, but he ducked under her claws and leapt toward us. Perhaps Ruby could have stopped him, but she didn’t try. She only watched.

Nox was ready. In a swift motion she pulled out the bundle she carried and tossed it in front of the dragonling. He squealed and let out a flame, but chomped down on the ball instead of me.

The dragonling chewed on his prize, seemingly content, and then wailed. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he darted to what was left of his hatching pool and doused his snout in the water.

Ruby turned slowly toward Nox. “You came prepared.”

“I did. He’ll probably have some pain in his mouth for a few days, but it won’t kill him.”