Unleash the Storm (18 page)

This way.

She jerked underwater. She didn’t hear the words so much as she felt them in her bones.

A presence behind her. Spinning around, she came face to face with a koryu. The
dairokkan
above its head undulated as the teardrop scales on its forehead glowed. It was the one she’d sensed upstream a few minutes ago.

This water dragon wasn’t Shinryu; it was just a regular koryu. Shinryu’s power had gone silent. She had offered no answers, no promise to help. Was that it? Was Shinryu refusing to help her?

The scales on the koryu’s forehead glowed a little brighter and it swam beside Piper, pointing its nose downstream.

This way.

She hesitated, calling again to Shinryu. No response. With nothing else to try, she wrapped her arms around the koryu’s neck.

With a snap of its powerful finned tail, it shot into motion. It swam like a torpedo, the rocky riverbanks rushing by in the dark waters. She clung on with arms and legs, pressing herself against the dragon’s back to minimize drag. Darkness closed over them as they left the brightly lit cavern behind. The water grew more turbulent, and she sensed them rejoining the main river.

The koryu sped through the waters, faster than the racing current. Jagged rocks flashed by—the same rocks that had broken her body when she’d been carried downstream through the caves after falling into the river.

In no time at all, blinding sunlight cut through the water and the koryu broke the surface, lifting her into the warm air. She gasped in a grateful breath but had no time to enjoy it. They dove again, and she tightened her hold on the dragon, knowing what was coming. Just ahead, the river plunged over Two Dragon Falls. She clutched her mount’s neck with all her strength as they closed in on the falls. With a whip of its tail, the koryu propelled them off the edge.

They shot out of the water into the air, plummeting. The dragon spread its legs and fins, catching the wind to slow their fall. They dropped alongside the roaring water, and as the basin at the bottom rushed up to meet them, the koryu folded in its limbs and fins. They plunged into the water.

The river widened and slowed at the bottom of the waterfall, but the koryu didn’t slow its pace. Tail weaving side to side, it propelled them downriver, never slowing, rarely breaching the surface for a gulp of air. Her arms ached from the strain of holding on but she didn’t let go. Something was driving the water dragon hard—something calling it urgently.

She missed most of the scenery, unable to see the passing mountains while underwater, but she knew they’d travelled miles. An hour passed, then another, the koryu never slowing. Just as she wondered how much farther the river could possibly flow, a salty tang developed in her mouth. She stretched her senses out.

Ahead, the river met a great expanse of open water—a sea. The river emptied into a sea. This had to be the end of the ryujin territory. Where the hell was the koryu taking her?

As the dragon rushed headlong into the estuary, she tugged on its neck, hoping it would stop. They couldn’t go swimming in the sea. They weren’t fish. Neither she nor the koryu could swim forever.

The koryu shook its head in annoyance at her tugging and shot for the surface. Piper gasped for air, glancing around with wide eyes. On either side, the mountains ended in steep, rocky cliffs. The river widened as it joined the sea, the current growing rougher. The water dragon swam along the surface, slowing but not stopping. She stared ahead at the unbroken line of blue horizon where the sea met the sky. She’d never seen an ocean before.

Sea waves crashed violently into the cliff walls with great roars of sound. The koryu swam hard into the incoming tide and the first wave rolled toward them—six feet tall with a frothing tip. She grabbed on tight as the dragon dove under the wave. They swam beneath the rolling waves before surfacing for a quick breath, then dove again. The current was strong, the tides pulling at them. She hung on for dear life, frightened of the water for the first time since discovering her ryujin form.

She was so focused on hanging on that she didn’t sense the island until they were almost on top of it. The koryu broke the surface and there it was: a hump of rock edged in a sandy beach, a quarter mile wide and even narrower.

The water dragon swam into the shallow water of the beach. Sheltered from the incoming tide by the other side of the tiny island, the waters were relatively calm. She was still gawking when the koryu stopped, planting its clawed feet in the sandy bottom to hold against the push and pull of the waves.

She held on, shivering as the sea wind whipped over her wet skin. What now? The koryu turned its head and looked at her with one blue eye. The message was clear.

Swallowing hard, she reluctantly pried her hands free and slid off the dragon’s back into chest-high water. The waves pulled at her, trying to drag her away from the island. The koryu turned and dove, vanishing beneath the surface with a flick of its tail.

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered, knowing it was already too late. Ducking under the surface, she swam toward the beach. Where else was there to go? She could probably swim back to the river on her own, but the koryu had brought her here for a reason … hadn’t it?

When it became too shallow for swimming, she clambered to her feet and trudged onto the beach, stopping with the water still lapping around her ankles.

As she anxiously considered the barren rock littered with bits of driftwood, a power very different from Shinryu’s whispered along her senses. She blinked rapidly, calling on a touch of shaded calm. Her vision blurred for a second—and then she could see it. A rippling line of green light twice her height undulated over the ground, running the length of the island. A ley line.

The koryu had brought her to a ley line? But there was a much closer one—the one she always came through to visit the ryujin. Why had it brought her all the way out here?

The back of her neck prickled. She spun around.

The sea had begun to churn. The waves twisted and roiled as though the tide were pulling them in every direction. The water frothed wildly as a dark shadow grew beneath the surface. The water surged upward as something rose from beneath it.

An immense, silver-scaled head burst out of the water, followed by a curving neck. The massive water dragon rose out of the sea, sliding through the churning waves toward the beach.

Unable to so much as breathe, Piper dropped to her knees in the sand, staring. The great dragon lifted out of the water as it stepped into the shallows, its long, heavy tail trailing behind it. Ancient power thickened the air, tingling in her lungs as she finally managed to draw a breath.

Shinryu had answered her call.

T
he great silver
dragon flowed onto the beach, every movement as smooth and graceful as a rolling wave. She glided past Piper and onto the rocky base of the island. The sea wind gusted, blowing droplets of water across Piper’s face from the dragon’s body.

Shinryu looked similar to a koryu, just
much
larger. She even had the same undulating
dairokkan
rising off the top of her head and three teardrop scales on her forehead. Attempting to pull her thoughts together, Piper watched the dragon pass her, stunned by the sight of the majestic creature.

Little flickers of blue and green light rippled over Shinryu’s body. The flames—or was it glowing water freed from gravity?—leaped higher as the creature approached the ley line. The line responded to her approach, the dancing light flashing fast and bright. The swirling light over the dragon’s scales burst outward and the ley line rippled energetically in response. The magic spun around Shinryu, enveloping her body entirely as it reached the ley line. The two lights blurred and blended together as both powers leaped skyward, twisting and spiraling toward the sky.

With a burst of power, the light disappeared. The ley line resumed its sedate, gentle rippling. Shinryu turned and stepped away from the line, gliding off the rock and into the sand.

As the dragon passed her, her immense head turned on her long, curving neck and a giant blue eye examined Piper. The scales on her forehead glowed softly as she brought her head within an arm’s length away. Her pale, wide-eyed face reflected in the dragon’s huge eyes, the same color as the sea.

A touch of power caressed her mind, an offering of hope.

The great silver creature swung her head back toward the ocean and flowed into motion. The waves stilled as Shinryu slipped into the sea, gliding through the water until it rose around her shoulders. Then the dragon turned to face the island, before becoming as still as the sea around her, the only movement that of her
dairokkan
undulating gracefully.

Piper took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Shinryu stood still and silent, her head and the dorsal fin on her back all that protruded from the glass-like surface of the water. The dragon was waiting … for what? Piper turned, staring at the line; it looked exactly the same as it had before. Was she supposed to do something now? Shinryu hadn’t given her any instructions. She pushed to her feet and took a few steps into the water, splashing in up to her knees as she peered at Shinryu, wondering if she dared ask what they were waiting for.

The power of the ley line gave an odd little stutter.

Piper spun around. The line was rippling in agitation, streaks of blue rushing through the green light. The blue spread, flames leaping out of the light. A wave of heat burst from the line and she threw her hands over her face, stumbling backward into deeper water as the air scorched her skin like the hottest desert wind.

The line exploded with blue fire, obliterating the green light. A black shape filled the heart of the flames—and then the great black dragon burst out of the line, wings spread wide as he loosed an enraged, ear-splitting roar.

Piper gaped. The black dragon—he was here. Shinryu must have called him somehow, using the ley line.

Her eyes flashed over the dragon, and she almost screamed in despair when she didn’t see Ash. How could the dragon have come without Ash? They were bonded now, weren’t they?

Movement at the base of the dragon’s neck caught her attention, and her eyes went wide all over again. Ash was there, standing on the dragon’s back, just behind its thick, snake-like neck. She hadn’t seen him at first because he blended in; he almost looked like part of the beast.

The dragon had clearly taken Lyre’s attack on Ash seriously. Ash’s regular draconian clothes and gear had been augmented with gleaming, obsidian armor—curved pieces over his chest, shoulders, and arms, covering his thighs and shins, even thin lines of armor over the outer ribs of his wings. A fitted piece of dragon-scale armor covered the lower half of his face, replacing the typical draconian face wrap.

Fear pierced her relief; if Ash had been frightening in his regular gear, he now looked like a demon warlord from the depths of hell.

The black dragon’s head turned, glowing blue eyes glancing across Piper to Shinryu. His lips pulled back from his fangs, baring them in a lizard-like expression of utter fury. He was clearly not happy with Shinryu for calling him to the Overworld.

You summoned me to aid my enemies?
His telepathic voice was an enraged roar so loud in Piper’s head that her knees almost buckled.
You interfere where you have no right. Return to your apathy in the depths, as you have always preferred.

Shinryu’s power swirled through the sea as she stared calmly back at the furious black beast.

You have forgotten, Tenryu
. Her voice flowed through Piper, as sweet and gentle as a pure mountain stream.
A life you may claim, but a mind and soul?

Tenryu’s rage cut through the air like an invisible sword.
He would not submit.

You allowed them to forget you. You taught them to fear you.

Snapping his head side to side, he bellowed angrily, jaws gaping wide.
They forsook us. They betrayed us.

This child you hold prisoner did neither.

He resisted!

The glass-like sea began to churn.

You have forgotten, Tenryu
, Shinryu repeated in a sorrowful sigh.

Tenryu opened his mouth to bare all his curved fangs.
Do you challenge me, sister?

If I must
, she whispered.

The churning sea behind Shinryu rose, lifting higher and higher into a massive tidal wave. Tenryu spread his wings and let out a furious, defiant roar. Like an attack dog let off its chain, the tidal wave roared forward, passing right over Shinryu without affecting her as it hurtled toward the island.

The wave hit Piper first, sucking her inside it. With a kick of her feet, she shot up inside the wave, suspended within it as it slammed down on Tenryu. In that moment, both the dragon and Ash were underwater with her and Shinryu.

Piper swept past Tenryu’s head and grabbed hold of Ash as the power of the water tore him from the dragon’s back.

The breaking wave crashed down onto the island, dropping Ash and Piper onto the rocks. Behind them, a second wave came roaring in, colliding with Tenryu. He flailed his wings as he struggled to keep his head above the water.

She barely noticed. Her eyes—her entire being—were focused on Ash. She clutched his head, staring desperately at his face. Instead of solid, unbroken blue, the whites and pupils of his eyes had returned. His gray irises were veined with electric blue, but otherwise, his eyes looked like
him
again.

And he was looking at her. He was
seeing
her.

“Ash?” she gasped, half choking on a sob.

If he answered, she never heard it.

Tenryu’s enraged bellow shattered the air. She jerked her head up as his massive, taloned foot swept toward her.

It struck her in the side, hurling her off Ash. She tumbled over the rocks, rolling out of control until she came to a sprawling stop in the sand. The earth shook as the dragon charged after her. She shoved onto her hands and knees, unable to draw a breath with her bruised lungs, and flung herself toward the waves rolling up the sand.

The sea rose again. It surged up the beach, sweeping Piper into its cool embrace, and crashed down on top of Tenryu. Screaming in rage, the dragon snapped his wings wide. Blue and black fire erupted over his scaled body, burning even under the water. The liquid boiled, bubbles racing for the surface. The flames grew, swirling faster and faster around the dragon as steam rose from the sea in great swaths of white. The fire burst outward, burning away the water until the dragon stood within a whirlwind inferno that evaporated the water as fast as it flowed in.

The incoming wave faltered, then fell apart, water dropping onto the rocks and rushing back out toward the sea. Piper was sucked partway out with it before she grabbed onto a submerged rock and pulled herself up, waist-deep in the sea. Shinryu stood partially submerged, gazing at Tenryu as flames roared over his scales. Green and blue light flickered just beneath her silver scales. Tiny ripples of light danced across her body as she lifted her head high.

And then the goddess of the seas flowed into motion, gliding toward the beach as the ocean gathered behind her.

Tenryu froze in place, his hesitation obvious even to Piper. He roared and spun away from Shinryu’s approach. He lunged up the beach toward Ash, who’d rolled onto his hands and knees and was shaking his head back and forth groggily. The dragon snatched Ash in his jaws and leaped toward the ley line.

“No!” Piper screamed.

Shinryu called on the sea. A tidal wave hit Piper’s back, absorbing her into it, and crashed down on the island, burying the entire thing in six feet of water. As the water receded back into the sea, Piper swam frantically closer. She shoved upright and ran through the shallows for the beach but she already knew it was too late.

The island was empty. Tenryu had taken Ash through the ley line.

“No,” she moaned, falling to her knees.

Shinryu stood with her two front feet buried in the wet sand, her back legs in the water as it flowed off the island and back out to sea. The dragon’s sadness and regret saturated the air.

Piper pressed her hands to her face, sobs rising in her chest. She was such a fool. Even though Ash had been temporarily free of the dragon’s control while Tenryu was distracted, it hadn’t done a damn bit of good. Instead of clutching him like a lovesick idiot, she should have been brave enough to run a dagger through his heart to put him out of his misery.

Do not forsake love, child,
Shinryu whispered inside her mind.
Hold hope still. My brother may yet remember.

Piper lifted her tear-streaked face from her hands. “Remember what?”

Shinryu turned toward the sea. The water went still once again as she slipped into it, gliding away from the island. Her elegant dorsal fin cut through the glassy surface before vanishing beneath it. Waves surged back into motion, rolling toward the island with the natural tide. A whisper of sympathy and compassion touched Piper before it too faded. Shinryu’s presence disappeared from her senses, sinking into the depths of the sea.

She’d failed. How could she have failed Ash so badly? He’d been freed from the dragon only to be snatched away again. If she could have managed to get him in the water, Shinryu would have protected him. But she hadn’t done a damn thing that was useful. And now Tenryu had Ash back in the Underworld or wherever they’d gone, where the dragon could once again enslave Ash to his will.

“I’m sorry,” she wept, her voice almost soundless. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

She dug her fingers into the sand as gentle waves washed over her legs. Alone on the beach, surrounded by nothing but the empty sea, she curled into a ball on the sand and cried until she ran out of tears.

K
eeping
her aching eyes closed and her mind shut tight to the presence of the ryujin community, she lay on her bed and did her best not to think.

After a short time alone on the island, the koryu had returned along with three ryujin. The young men had followed her in the hopes of seeing the great Shinryu with their own eyes. It was a good thing they had, because Tenryu’s hit had inflicted a lot of damage she hadn’t noticed at the time. Her dragon scale clothing had protected her from his claws, but the force of the blow had broken her arm and cracked some ribs.

The ryujin youths had healed her before helping her make the long journey back to the hidden city. At first, she struggled to be grateful that they’d been there to heal her. Not only had they witnessed her complete failure to save Ash, but they also weren’t quite able to hide their exhilaration at witnessing Shinryu’s power
and
seeing a great dragon from another world. Though they were sympathetic, they didn’t share in her despair.

As the trip upstream had gone on, though, she became very thankful for their help. Even with the koryu carrying her most of the way, it had taken quadruple the time as the trip out to the island, and the overland detour around Two Dragon Falls had been hellish. The sun had been setting by the time they’d arrived at the ryujin city.

Hinote and Lyre had been waiting for her. She guessed one look at her face had told them all they needed to know, and Hinote had whisked her away from the ryujin youths to the privacy of her room. She’d eventually mustered up the strength to tell them the entire story.

That had been three days ago. Soon, she and Lyre would set out for the ley line along the cliff. They would return to the Underworld and meet with Seiya—a conversation Piper wasn’t looking forward to. After that, she didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t feel any need to stay in the Underworld without Ash. She didn’t want anything to do with Eliada and the other draconians, whether they welcomed her or not. Raum didn’t need her help protecting his family. No one needed her. Without the Sahar, she was useless.

“Piper?” The soft voice came from outside the curtain to her room.

She reluctantly sat up. “Come in.”

Hinote pushed the curtain aside and walked in, his long tail swishing behind him, fins folded neatly like closed fans.

“Lyre has gathered most of the gear for your journey.” He crouched beside her. “Are you ready?”

She nodded but didn’t move, the blankets still tangled over her legs. It was time to leave, but the bitterness of losing Ash all over again was like a massive weight holding her in place. She dropped her eyes to her lap, despair squeezing her chest.

“What did Shinryu mean when she said Tenryu had forgotten?” she asked brokenly. “Why did she think him remembering could save Ash?”

“I cannot say,” he murmured. “The great dragons are ancient beings with a deep history. Who knows what she might have referred to?” He rose to his full height. “Freshen up, child, and join us by the river. Many are gathering to bid you farewell.”