Of Steel and Scale (The Drakkon Kin Trilogy #1)

Chapter 8

His gaze swept the cavern and landed on mine. He veered toward me, running across the avalanche’s surging frontline, leaping over boulders, and somehow avoiding the deadly rain coming from the ceiling.

As he hit the cavern’s mouth, the stream of rock crashed into the line of boxes. Bits of wood and metal flew in all directions, deadly spears that could pierce skin as easily as they did the air. Dark liquid sprayed high, splashing across the growing network of cracks in the cavern’s ceiling.

“Go, go,” Damon said, his voice hoarse with weariness. He swept up the tubes and the tub I’d salvaged, then grabbed my arm and pulled me along with him. I shook free, scooped up my other pack, and ran on, leading the way through the dust, the gloom, fear pounding through me as cracks splintered the ceiling above us.

From behind us came a series of heavy thumps; more of the cavern’s ceiling had come down, and it sent a thick wave of stone grit chasing after our heels. Then an odd hissing began. It sounded like a shamoke pot steaming, only a thousand times louder.

The liquid, I realized suddenly. The avalanche had crushed its receptacles, and it was now reacting—violently, if the increasing volume of that hissing was anything to go by—to the stone.

A heartbeat later, there was another loud whoomph , and the whole tunnel vibrated.

“Lose the packs, now!” Damon commanded, dropping the tub and the tubes and racing away from them.

“Why?” I said, not looking back as I hastily obeyed.

He didn’t answer, just dove at me. Surprise tore a gasp from my lips as his arms wrapped around me and he took us both down, somehow twisting in the air so that his body took the brunt of the heavy fall. He grunted, a sound filled with pain, but rolled the two of us toward the base of the tunnel wall. My shoulder hit it hard enough to split open my cauterized wounds, but any sound I might have made was lost to a wave of rock and heat so loud, so fierce, it felt like we’d briefly stepped into Vahree’s hellish domain.

For too many seconds, we simply huddled together, our hearts beating in terrified unison as the air burned and chunks of rock thudded all around us. Nothing hit us, though, which made me suspect he was using a shield to protect us. It would certainly explain his miraculous avoidance of being crushed in the cavern.

The rain of heat and stone gradually eased, and though dust still swirled, it was nevertheless easier to breathe. I sent a sliver of fire across to my shoulder to seal the wound again, and then moved my face away from his chest and looked up. “Did you intend for all that to happen?”

He laughed, though it was a rough, somewhat wry sound. “Would you be very surprised if I said no?”

“Then what did happen? Was that the backlash you mentioned?”

“No. One of their containers must have had a leak, though I didn’t notice its presence until I’d finished and activated the spell. A spell spark hit the thin stream, and that’s when it all went south.”

“Meaning the acidic stuff is also explosive? That is not good news.”

“No.” He shifted slightly and skimmed his hand from my waist to my hip. Awareness flared in his eyes and echoed through me. “Are you hurt?”

“I daresay I’ll have a charming array of bruises happening tomorrow, but otherwise, no.” I raised a hand and lightly traced a finger around the shallow wound slicing his cheek. Desire deepened, both in his eyes and within me. “If this is your only wound, then you were damnably lucky.”

“I think my luck changed the moment I stepped off a boat and met my reluctant bride. Túxn was definitely in a playful mood that day.”

“Given everything that has happened since, it might be more accurate to say she was in a foul mood.”

He laughed, pulled me closer, and kissed me. He tasted of dust and sweat, of blood and desire, and heated promises of a future longed for but never expected. A future I might not get if the winged riders— I pushed the thought away, not wanting to consider the possibility.

I slipped a leg over his hips and pressed against his muscular body and the glorious length of his erection. This was neither the perfect time nor place for any sort of consummation, but rational thought wasn’t having much luck against the almost violent need to finally give in to the desire that burned between us.

The kiss deepened, intensified. I rubbed against him, the throbbing heat of his cock pressing against my mound, the leathers that lay between us little barrier to the fierceness of desire. It wasn’t skin on skin, but it nevertheless set me alight. His lips left my mouth and trailed down my chin, my neck. I gasped, shuddering in delight at each tiny press of his lips against my skin. Then he shifted and, with one hand, began to undo my jacket’s clasps. I should have objected. Should have told him the last thing I wanted was to make love on the cold, hard cavern floor. But that would be a lie because, right now, I didn’t care. I wanted him, all of him. Any damn way, any damn where.

The last clasp came away, and he pushed the jacket aside, his fingers brushing the aching tip of one nipple. I jerked, even as desire speared my entire body. He laughed softly, his breath warm on my skin even through the silk of my undergarment. His lips slowly followed the path of his hand, then he caught the aching nipple gently in his mouth and lightly sucked on it. I gasped again and rocked against him more urgently, rubbing his thick length against me, feeling the pooling heat, and increasing wetness. I wanted him. Lord how I wanted him....

“Bryn?” came a distant call. “Damon? You out there?”

Kele.

Túxn was no doubt laughing in delight right now.

“Here,” I replied, then groaned softly and rested my forehead against his. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or scream.”

“Scream. Definitely scream.” He tucked a finger under my chin and gently raised it, kissing me deeply and unhurriedly. “But perhaps it is for the best, given where we are.”

I moved my leg from his hip but remained pressed against him. “There’s definitely one part of your body disagreeing with that statement.”

“And it would definitely have overridden common sense if we’d not been interrupted.” He brushed a hand down my cheek, then across well-kissed lips. It felt like I was being branded. Felt like heaven. “But what we started here deserves more comfort and time.”

If we had it , that inner voice whispered again. I swallowed the trepidation that rose and simply said, “Agreed.”

“Then we fix your drakkon and retire to more comfortable quarters?”

“Perhaps a bath should be our first stop. We’re both a little... grimy.”

“Grime neither of us were worried about only a few seconds ago.”

“True, but imagine the fun that could be had in a bath?—”

“I’ve been doing nothing else ever since I sat by said bath and watched you only a night ago.”

It was wryly said, and I smiled. “The same night I threatened your balls with my knee? I’m pleased to inform you such a threat is no longer on the table.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, wife.” He paused, wickedness flickering through his eyes. “Though there is great delight to be had on a table, I can assure you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is there now? I hope you’re prepared to follow that statement with a physical example.”

His eyebrows rose. “You’ve never ventured beyond a bed or a bath?”

“I’m a soldier,” I said dryly. “For most of my time in the military, quarters were shared, tables nonexistent within them, and privacy never assured. Sex was a fun but necessarily unadventurous event.”

“Then it will be my great pleasure to educate you on this particular matter.”

“And mine, I would hope.”

“That I can promise.”

He pushed to his feet, then offered me a hand and helped me up. He caught the edges of my jacket and did it up, causing havoc with every—probably not so accidental—brush of his fingers against my currently oversensitive skin. I glanced down at his still very evident erection. “That’s going to cause a whole lot of conjecture and comments, especially given Kele is one of those who approach.”

He shrugged. “Let them talk. Desire for my wife is something I will never feel ashamed of.”

Another statement that warmed my heart. Once the jacket was done, he turned and picked his way through the rubble littering the floor, heading for the tubes he’d abandoned. By some quirk of fate, he’d rolled us just past a slab of rock that jutted out several feet into the tube, and given the tide of rubble sitting on the other side of the protrusion, it had obviously helped protect us from the worst of the explosion.

I looked around for the packs and spotted them a few yards away. Damon’s was half buried under a few rocks, but my two were just dusty. I walked over, dug them out and shook them off, then did a check inside mine to ensure everything remained in a usable condition. After tugging the light tube free, I switched it on, then slung one pack on my back, the other over my shoulder, and carried the third over to Damon.

“Did the weapons survive?”

“The tubes were crushed, but your weapon master should still be able to dissect and study them. The tub is fine—a good thing, considering if it had gone up like the others, we might not be here talking about it.”

He exchanged his pack for the tubes, putting it on before picking up the tub of liquid. “Lead the way, my dear captain.”

I couldn’t help smiling again. “You just want me in the lead to hide the impressive length of your erection.”

“No, I want you in the lead so I can watch the delicious sway of your ass.”

I laughed. “That is not going to help said erection.”

“Do I look as if I care?”

He certainly did not. I impulsively rose onto my toes and kissed him, then pulled away before it could get too heated and led the way through the rubble-strewn tunnel and into the connecting tube.

Five minutes later, Kele and three soldiers from her squadron appeared. I raised my hand against the brightness of their lights and stopped.

Once they were close enough, I said to Kele, “I take it the rescue team arrived?”

She nodded. “About half an hour ago. It took a while to stabilize Randel enough to move him, but all three are being escorted back to Esan as we speak.”

“Good.” I glanced past her to the oldest of the three men. “Grant, we’ll need you and your men to take the weapons we found back to the commander.”

He saluted. “Yes, Captain.”

I retrieved the tub from Damon, then handed both it and the tubes over. “Be wary of the liquid. It’s explosive.”

“Is that what caused the blast we heard?” Kele asked.

I nodded. “It destroyed the tunnel leading up to the Beak.”

“Not a bad thing, if our attackers were using it.”

“They were.” I flicked my gaze to Grant again. “Move out, Lieutenant, but be wary of the olm. They’ll still be hunting through the blue vein tubes.”

He and his men spun and quick timed it down the tunnel.

“We heading to the drakkons now?” Kele asked, anticipation in her voice.

I nodded again. “I have a promise to fulfil.”

“Excellent.” Her gaze slipped past me. “You can come out of the shadows now, my lord. The men have gone, and we women are never likely to mock such a deliciously rigid rod.”

“It’s hardly rigid,” he said mildly. “It has been a good ten minutes since it received so much as a longing gaze.”

“If that’s hardly rigid, our girl is going to be one happy woman.”

He laughed. “Only if she deigns to stop playing with drakkons and start playing with me.”

“Seriously? I am here. I can hear you both.”

Kele clapped a hand on my arm. “You can hear, but will you take notice? Because that fine man behind you is obviously in need of some tender ministrations.”

“And if you had timed your arrival ten minutes later, he might well have gotten them.”

My voice was dry, and she laughed in delight. “Well, that certainly explains the state of your jacket and the flush on your cheeks.”

I frowned down at my jacket. “What state—” I stopped. The buttons had been done up wrong. “Obviously, my husband is more used to undressing women than dressing them.”

“I cannot answer that statement on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”

I rolled my eyes, fixed my jacket, then brushed past Kele and once again led the way. It didn’t take us long to reach the still faintly glowing remnants of the barrier spell. I stopped and pulled out the scribe quill and tablet, knowing I had better send my father a message before he sent out a secondary rescue team. I quickly described what we’d found, then let him know we were sending our scavenged tubes and liquid back with Grant’s team while we headed for the drakkons. His reply simply said, Keep safe.

I hesitated, then sent back, The islands? Any news yet?

No. Contact remains lost.

And the cutters? They should have arrived there by now, should they?

They were sleek and fast, even in rough seas and weather, and at the very least, should have reached Manderlei, the closest island, just before dawn started stretching her bloody fingers across the sky.

No word from them as yet. Scribes may be down.

That was unlikely, and we both knew it. The scribes had been tested under the most trying conditions, and generally the only time they stopped working was when the tablet had been shattered—and it took a good deal of force to do that—or it was beyond a usable range. Jakarra was well within that range.

I wrote back, And the tracker stones?

Eighteen signals remain, but they weaken.

Meaning death was closing in, because the trackers were fueled by body heat—no heat, no tracker. Any rescue launched was now on a tight deadline.

It also meant they’d been attacked and that three of the six boats had been lost. But if three did remain, why hadn’t they reached Jakarra yet?

Have sent out a rescue team, my father continued. Should know more once the ship reaches their location. There was a pause, the tiny ink blot that was the quill he was holding pulsing gently as it waited to relay more information. Have told them to find shelter before dusk, no matter what.

Meaning he’d ordered them not to risk their lives to save the lives of those in the cutters. I closed my eyes. That would have been a hard thing to do. It was a hard and fast rule within Esan’s military ranks that we never left anyone behind—not even our dead, unless it was absolutely necessary.

But we couldn’t risk losing any more people and boats to this threat, either. Not until we found some way of countering their weapons.

I hesitated again, not entirely sure what to say, then simply signed off. It was pointless to keep questioning him when so little was known. Hopefully that would change by the time we arrived back. Hopefully the rescued men and women would be able to shine at least a little light on what was happening.

I packed the quill and tablet away, then rose and continued on. As we neared the cavern in which the olm had attacked, I sent Kaia a message, letting her know we were on our way.

Know came her reply. Hunt.

Meaning she was well aware of our location and had acted accordingly once we were close enough.

Am queen , she said, her tone almost condescending. Am smart .

We finally reached the cavern in which the scouts had been attacked, and the first thing I noticed was the lack of bodies. The rescue team would have retrieved what was left of our dead, but they certainly wouldn’t have done anything to the olm.

“We dragged them into the right tube,” Kele said, obviously seeing my frown. “Figured if they were going to come for a feed, they’d tackle their dead first before they came after us.”

“Good thinking.”

“It does happen occasionally.”

I laughed and moved on, leading the way through the tube until we reached the side tunnel that snaked up toward the old aeries. The heat gradually increased, and sweat trickled down my spine. Though no one truly understood the reason why this section of the range was so much warmer than the rest, it was thought to sit above a deep but still active lava tube, and that this area, with its multiple fissures, allowed the overheated air to rise more easily. The old aerie in Zephrine apparently had similar properties, but I had no idea if the one in the Red Ochre mountains did. As far as I was aware, there were no pockets of volcanic activity in that region. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, given that range wasn’t plagued by the violent swings of weather that could hit both Esan and Zephrine, thanks to their closeness to the sea, and tended to be more temperate.

I slowed as we neared the aerie. Gria? We’re coming in. Don’t attack.

Not. She paused. Who we?

Me, Kele, and Damon.

Mate fix cave? Make safe?

Yes.

No eat?

I smiled. No eat anyone.

She sighed. It was a very put-upon sound. Hungry.

Kaia will return soon. Was, in fact, already returning if the strengthening buzz of her thoughts was anything to go by.

I stepped into the aerie and paused a few yards in. The main chamber was a vast high space that could easily have held more than a grace of full-sized drakkons. There were also eight chambers running off it—smaller C-shaped areas of deeper warmth in which eggs could be safely laid and hatched, and which were more easily defended if raiders came. For too many years, we had. And for too many years, the blood of drakkons and Esan’s soldiers had stained the gritty soil of these caverns.

Gria was hunkered to our left, half in, half out of one of the larger hatching caves. She was too big to entirely fit into it, but her tail and haunches were resting on the warmer sands, and contentment ran through the back reaches of her mind.

Damon and Kele stopped on either side of me. Gria eyed them, her thoughts abuzz with curiosity. It struck me again just how little fear she truly had of us. Of course, she’d been raised far away from any settlement, resulting in very little interaction with us, but I still found it surprising none of Kaia’s distrust had leached over to her daughter. But then, Kaia had never shown any animosity toward me, either, despite her awareness of where I came from. Drakkons were obviously more magnanimous than we humans.

“Can I get closer to her?” Kele whispered, as if frightened speaking too loudly might spook a reaction. “Would she mind?”

No mind, Gria replied. Must scratch.

I grinned and unslung my pack. “She said as long as you promise to scratch the ridge above her eye, she promises not to eat you.”

Kele’s gaze cut to mine, her expression a mix of uncertainty and amusement. “She said that?”

“Not in so many words, but yes.”

“Huh.”

She followed me across, her fingers flexed and her expression a mix of wonder and awe. Though Gria was a third the size of her mother, she still towered above the two us. The drakkling watched us approach, her eyes black jewels in the faint glow of the light tubes. Then she lowered her head, her snout landing a few feet away from Kele’s side. It was an obvious invitation, and after a brief hesitation, Kele reached up and scratched the ridge. Gria rumbled in contentment, and Kele laughed in delight.

“Looks like the drakkons have snared another heart,” Damon said dryly.

“Easily done.” To Gria, I added, Stretch your right wing out. I need to finish patching it.

Hurt?

Shouldn’t this time.

She grumbled in soft disbelief, and Kele jumped back. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. She was just responding to me. Keep scratching her while I repair her wing.”

I dumped the packs on the ground, dug out the silk webbing and sealer, and then began the slow process of repairing the remaining sections of torn membrane. After checking the repairs I’d made earlier and seeing—with some surprise—that even the breakages were almost healed, I came out from under her wing and checked her chest. It, too, was healing well, though it was unlikely she’d be able to fly for at least a couple of days without the risk of tearing it open again.

I left Kele scratching the drakkling’s eye ridge, picked up my packs, and walked back to Damon. In the soft glimmer of my light tube, the pink nature of his sclera was very noticeable. “Will you still be able to raise the shields over both entrances? It’s a big area, and you’ve already expended a lot of energy.”

“Yes, which is why I’m using the capras. It won’t cost me as much.” Devilment twitched his mouth and danced through his eyes. “Still afraid I won’t have any energy left to perform my duties tonight, wife?”

“No,” I said dryly. “As I noted earlier, apparently not even death can stop a man getting an erection.”

“There is more to consummation than a mere erection.”

“I would hope so, or I shall be peeved.” I glanced around as awareness stirred within. “Kaia’s on her way back.”

He swung off his pack. “I’ll start getting ready then.”

I nodded and walked over to the entrance tunnel. It was by necessity wide and high, with a ridge of thick stone that jutted out into emptiness, giving the drakkons a perfect landing and take-off pad. The stone was deeply scratched by the hundreds of drakkons who’d used this place over countless centuries, but time, weather, and disuse had softened many of the harsher lines. I couldn’t help but hope that she and Gria would continue to use this place, even once I’d relocated to Zephrine.

An aerie deserved to have drakkons.

They deserved a safe place to breed and fly.

I dropped my packs out of the way, then rubbed my arms against the wisps of old rage. I couldn’t change the past. Couldn’t change what had been done to these magnificent beasts. Couldn’t even change the attitude of Arleeon’s people, who saw the drakkons as nothing more than pests that needed eradication for their stock to remain safe.

But there was a part of me that wanted to try, at least when it came to the latter.

The wind of Kaia’s approach intensified, and I braced against the force of it. A few seconds later, she appeared, her wings gilded in the growing sunshine and her scales afire. She was gliding toward the landing stone, two capras clenched in her murderously large rear claws, but she didn’t land. Instead, she banked, dropped one of the capras onto the pad, then flipped the other into her jaws and circled around. I ran forward, grabbed the capra by its hind legs, and dragged it back into the main tunnel, out of her way.

She made a rumbly sound deep in her chest that echoed the appreciation spinning through her thoughts then, with her feet outstretched, she landed neatly and lightly. After tucking her wings close to her body, she strutted forward, a queen reclaiming her home.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like.

She dropped the second capra next to mine, then ducked her head for an eye ridge scratch. I obliged, and that deep-chested rumble echoed again.

Mate make Gria safe now?

Yes. And I’ve patched the rest of her wounds. She should be fully healed in a few more days.

Good. Her gaze shifted, and her head rose, her eyes glittering and wariness in her thoughts.

I looked around. Damon approached, his hands held partially up. “Tell her I mean no harm.”

“She knows.”

He lowered his hands and stopped several feet away, staring up at her. “They are magnificent beasts, aren’t they?”

“They are, but they’re as vulnerable to our winged attackers as we are. We need to find a way to protect them, Damon.”

He glanced at me, his expression wry. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I agree. And not just for your sake, but theirs. Arleeon would be poorer for their loss.”

Not thought that in past , Kaia grumbled. Many not think that now.

No, but if we can make this place safe, then these ranges will at least give you some protection from what comes.

Must fight, she said. No hide.

You have Gria to look after.

Gria die—we die—if winged ones not fought.

That was a truth that could not be denied. I refocused on Damon. “I know your magic can’t be used offensively, but is there any sort of spell that can be used to give the drakkons some protection?”

“I don’t know, but when we get back to Esan, I’ll scribe home and see if a search can be made through the archives.” He motioned to the capra at my feet. “Let’s get these over to the entrance so I can build the shields.”

We tugged them across, the two drakkons watching with interest and more than a little anxiousness on Gria’s part, mainly because she feared not getting her food, and hey, she was hungry.

“Do you need me to mark out a line in the stone with my sword again?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That was nothing more than a visual reminder of where the barrier was. In this case, the drakkons don’t need it, and it’s better if anyone coming in from the other side doesn’t know about it until they hit it.”

He bled the two capras, this time collecting their blood in two vessels rather than one, then glanced up at me. “I’m going to need a contribution from both you and Kele.”

“Me?” Kele squeaked. “Why?”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re squeamish about a little blood?”

“Hell no, not if it’s drawn in battle. But willingly sticking a knife in my own flesh? Hell yes.”

He laughed. “Well, your blood isn’t actually necessary for the spell, but it will mean you won’t get through the barrier I’m about to raise.”

She glanced at Gria, whose gaze remained on her meals rather than any of us, then sighed. “Fine. You can drain me of all life and energy.”

“It’s only a couple of drops from you each,” he replied, amused. “I can assure you, you won’t even feel the knife.”

She snorted but nevertheless walked over and held her finger out. “Best get it over and done with, then, before I change my mind.”

He shook his head, then, after rinsing his knife off, made a motion over it with his hand then took her finger and pressed the knife point into it.

Blood instantly welled, and surprise flitted across Kele’s expression. “That didn’t hurt.”

“Told you it wouldn’t.” He turned her finger around and let her blood drip into a third, much smaller vessel. By the time he released her hand, the wound was already closing.

“If blood mages have the ability to make an incision painless,” Kele said, stepping back, “why isn’t it more widely used? It’d sure make surgery a lot easier.”

“You forget blood mages are held in even less regard than Strega. Besides, sticking a knife in someone takes no skill, whereas repairing does.” He took my finger, his touch gentle, almost impersonal, and yet my body reacted almost violently. This really was getting ridiculous. The sooner I got this man into bed—or bath, or even on the goddamn table—and satiated desperate hormones, the better.

He repeated the process with my finger, then raised it to his lips and kissed it, his gaze on mine and eyes burning with promises.

“Preferential treatment happening there,” Kele noted.

“Totally,” Damon agreed sagely and rose. “I’ll need to do one shield at a time, so it may take a while.”

“Meaning I get to scratch Gria more? Excellent.”

“Let’s feed her first,” I said wryly. “Otherwise, she may forget her promise not to chow down on you.”

Kele grinned. “And she’d probably spit me right back out again, given I’m probably gristlier than most.”

I laughed, and then we each grabbed a rear leg of the nearest capra and dragged it over to the young drakkling. Gria instantly reached for it, but at Kaia’s warning rumble, snatched her head back. We ran back for the other capra and dragged it over to the first. Only when we were both well out of the way did Kaia let her daughter eat.

Although eat was a relative term, given her teeth barely touched the capras. She basically swallowed each beast whole with barely a pause to break their bones.

As Kele returned to scratch Gria’s eye ridge, I walked across the cavern, tugged off my pack, and then asked Kaia to extend her wings so I could fix them. While most of the tears had begun to heal, several large sections of leathery membrane remained loose and would never heal properly unless given a frame on which to do so. As Damon’s magic rose, I once again tugged out the silk webbing and stretched it across the tears, then carefully sealed the loose skin to it. After that, it was simply a matter of giving the drakkon’s natural healing ability time to work.

Won’t take long , she said. We fast heal .

They certainly did. Most of the wounds that had scored her body only a few days ago were now little more than faint scars.

Once she’d tucked her wings back against her body, I folded one now empty pack into the other, then sat close to her and crossed my legs, leaning back against the wall of one of the hatching alcoves. Pain flared briefly as I pressed a little too much weight against my damaged shoulder, but the warmth emanating from the stone went some way to easing the aches through the rest of my body.

It was, however, a sharp reminder that the first thing I’d have to do when I got back was not report to my father or bed my husband, but rather see a healer and get some numbing salve. My fires might have sealed the wound and burned away infection, but it would be days before the pain faded—I knew that from experience.

The words of Damon’s spell filled the air, a rich, melodious sound I could listen to all day. As before, he’d spanned the arch with the siphoned blood, added several drops from the vessel that held mine and Kele’s blood, then drew his knife and sliced open his left arm. The minute his blood joined the darkly glistening line on the stone, smoke rose and fizzed back along it. But again, there was no explosion. Instead, Damon raised a hand, and the smoke followed his movement, filling the entrance’s void. When he closed his fist, the smoke briefly solidified. Then it simply disappeared. The only indication of its existence was the slightest shimmer, and even that was fading fast. There’d been no evidence of the spell he’d raised in the olm cavern, either, but for some reason I’d just thought something this big would be at least partially visible.

Winged ones magic not , Kaia said. This no different.

I looked up at her. Dark eyes gleamed back at me, filled with what I swore looked like tolerant amusement. So the winged ones do use blood magic?

Same darkness, different feel.

Blood magic feels dark to you?

Yes.

Interesting. In what way does the winged ones’ magic feel different?

No life.

Which made sense given Damon’s magic was all about protection rather than destruction. Even if our attackers did use it for protection, its base—philosophy?—was very different.

I watched him walk over to the next entrance, noting the weariness that now haunted each movement and the slight gauntness in his cheeks. All magic had its costs; for blood magic, that cost was obviously physical strength. And one man could only do so much—protect so much.

Worry slipped through me, but I pushed it aside. The man would surely know his own limits, and given he appeared far more sensible than me, I doubted he’d push them too far.

I dragged the small flask from one of my packs, took a drink, and then squinted up at Kaia again. How many other drakkons are there?

Not know number of sun beasts , she said. Most nest on drifting land beyond black shore.

Sun beasts being Zephrine’s golden drakkons, and the drifting land the floating islands that lay deep in the sea beyond Zephrine’s fortress. None remain in Zephrine?

I sent her an image of the fortress, and she huffed. That place kill. They always kill.

My gut clenched. Even now?

Few remain to kill. Would.

I swore and scrubbed a hand across my eyes, trying not to think about my impending move there even as I wondered how in the wind’s name I was going to survive. No matter how attracted I was to Damon, it would never be enough. Not for me. Aric may hate Esan’s bleakness, but at least a beating heart lay underneath it. I was beginning to think that was not the case in Zephrine.

What about in the Red Ochre aeries ? I sent her an image, so she knew I was talking about the mountains she called home.