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

Chapter 7.3

I ignored the tension that rippled through me, then dropped the pack looped over my shoulder onto the ground and drew my sword, edging warily to the cavern’s entrance. There was no response to our movement, and the tunnel opposite remained empty of any indication it was occupied.

I motioned to the boxes. “You check them out; I’ll head up the tunnel and investigate.”

“How much farther on is the Beak?”

“A couple of hundred yards, if that. Kaia’s still with me, so if there’s any sort of magic, she’ll warn me.”

Hope is. Am bored.

I grinned and repeated her comment to Damon. His eyebrows rose. “I never really gave much credit to drakkons being so intelligent, let alone them having so many human emotions.”

Same with us to them , Kaia muttered.

A laugh bubbled up my throat but thankfully didn’t make it past my lips.

“Don’t tell me,” he said dryly. “She just applied the comment to me.”

All males , Kaia corrected. Have brains, just don’t use. Think with breeding stick.

This time, the laugh escaped, though I managed to raise a hand in time to at least keep it partially smothered.

Damon raised his eyebrows again, an unspoken demand I share.

I grinned. “She basically just said that all males, no matter the species, think with their cocks rather than their brains.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

Rarely am , she said, somewhat smugly.

I smothered another laugh, then touched Damon’s arm and moved out. The air whisked lightly around me, and there was the faintest hint of murkha within it. It was a weed cultivated and smoked via clay pipes by some of our more distant trading partners, a practice that had never taken off in Arleeon, mainly because murkha was difficult to grow here and expensive to import. My father did have a supply, but it was only ever used during trade negotiations.

If these invaders were using it without any sort of restriction, then maybe they grew it, or at least came from the same region as those who did.

I moved into the other tunnel, my steps light on the ground and every sense alert. The stirring air strengthened, but it brought with it no sound, and no suggestion the men we’d seen remained at the Beak. That wasn’t really surprising—the Beak wouldn’t hold ten men, let alone the birds they probably flew in on.

The closer I drew to the Beak, the more the faint strains of pre-dawn light infused the shadows. I slowed my pace and kept my flames at the ready. The distant sound of crashing waves and the occasional cry of a kayin greeting the rising of another day remained the only sounds to be heard.

The tunnel swept left and made its final rise toward the Beak. I pressed against the wall, eased forward the final few inches, and then peered around the corner.

No soldiers, no armed birds, and nothing more than footprints on the gritty ground.

Tension remained, however. I’d been in too many close calls with Mareritten ambushes to believe the quiet emptiness of this place.

Kaia? I asked. Any magic?

Not sense.

I guess that was something. I flexed my fingers against my sword’s hilt, then moved on. The breeze stiffened almost immediately, filled with the salty scent of the sea. I remained close to the wall, my gaze scanning the opening ahead and the curving rock that gave this place its name. I knew from past adventures up here there was very little room for anyone to stand either side of the entrance—the cliff face was simply too sheer. Even a capra would have trouble scrambling up and down the thing.

But these invaders were flight capable, and that meant they could easily perch somewhere above and simply swoop down the minute I poked my head out.

Which I did, of course, but carefully, quickly checking either side before twisting around so I could study the dark sweep of mountain above me. Nothing.

With the sword still held at the ready—though it was unlikely to be much use against these birds given how close I’d have to get to the things to damage them—I stepped out. The wind tugged at my braid and the roar of the sea far below filled my ears. Dawn had broken across the skyline, her long plumes of red and gold tinting the gathering clouds and promising a stormy day. The Beak’s stone—once a smooth, shiny black—was heavily scarred, the trenches littering its length at least six inches deep.

Birds heavy , Kaia said. We not damage that badly.

No. I squatted next to one of the newest-looking scars and ran my fingers around their edges. They were V-shaped, the wider end—where two claws were—scored deeper than the tip that possessed one solitary shorter claw.

Land hard, no hover , Kaia commented. Front claws sharp, slice deep.

I slid my fingers into the toe section of the cut. It was a good hand deep. Their claws have to be pretty damn strong to slice through stone like this.

Claws not natural. Birds not natural.

And if they could damage the Beak like this with so little effort, what could they do to Esan’s walls? The Mareritt, for all their magic and sometimes superior technology, had never breached the city. These creatures, twisted and strengthened by magic, could well achieve in days what the frost scum hadn’t been able to in centuries.

I rose, looked toward the Black Glass peaks, and caught the faintest glimmer of gold. I swore and lunged toward the cavern’s mouth, pressing close to the shadows that still hugged one side of it, my gaze sweeping the color-wrapped skies for any indication I’d been spotted. A few kayin hung on the breeze, lazily circling; if there’d been any threat or unusual activity, they wouldn’t be doing that. They were in general timid souls.

I sheathed my sword and then swung my pack around and undid the small long viewer lashed to its side. I didn’t use it all that often, because we generally relied on scouts rather than these things. They had a limited focus range and tended to take a while to refocus when moving from point to point, which made them a little dangerous in tight situations needing a fast response.

After dropping my pack, I edged partially out. The gold glimmer remained where it was, bright against the black of the mountain behind it. I raised the long viewer to my right eye, closed the left, and adjusted the small ring halfway down the tube until everything jumped into focus. It took me a minute to find the source of the glimmer and... Vahree save us, these things were monstrous . Not in size so much as form. I might have already seen them in the images Kaia had shared, but somehow physically seeing them made them all the more real. All the more dangerous.

This one appeared to be tethered with a chain attached to the chest plate holding the wide leather saddle on its back in place. It wasn’t trying to escape, and it probably could—claws that could carve such deep trenches into the Beak could surely shatter chain just as easily, however thick. It was also wearing some sort of hood over its head and eyes, and it appeared to be rocking lightly back and forth, as if moving to some invisible tune.

The wind , Kaia said. It follows the ebb and flow of wind.

That’s odd, isn’t it?

Perhaps wishes to fly. Can’t, so imagines.

Surprise rippled through me. Do drakkons ever do this?

Young dream fly.

I centered the long viewer on the bird again. I had a feeling this one was young, though I had no idea why. It was just a suspicion that the natural weight of the bird, combined with that of a fully armored rider, would take a toll on them physically. It would make sense to use those in the prime of their lives rather than risk the strength of an older bird failing at the wrong time.

Not drakkon, Kaia said. Even Jagri lift you, metal covering or not.

Jagri?

Old male. Guards breeding grounds in red mountains.

A mate?

No. Can’t catch in flight. Not worthy.

I smiled. Drakkons mated on the wing, and only the strongest, fastest males were allowed to breed with the queens. I wasn’t wearing armor when you lifted me.

Can carry hair beast with ease. You nothing.

Hair beast being a longhorn, if the image that came through was anything to go by. Carrying in claws would be different to carrying on your back. It would affect your flying dynamics, would it not?

What dynamics?

I hesitated. The ease with which you move through the air.

Horns and spines larger than you.

And I guessed if I was sitting behind them, the flow of air wouldn’t really be disrupted. I hesitated. Would you be willing to carry me on your back if it was needed? It would leave your claws for defense.

If bank, you fall.

You could catch.

If miss?

How often do you miss prey?

You not prey. Matter more.

A statement that utterly warmed my heart. What if I was roped on? Or had some sort of saddle to keep me on?

Not that we actually had a saddle that would fit her back. It would have to be made, and I doubted we’d have the time to do that.

She was silent for a minute. I think.

Thank you.

I refocused on the invader and carefully swept the area. There were no cave entrances on that plateau that I could see from this angle, but it was obviously a sentry point, as what looked to be a triangular metal tent was set up behind the golden bird and a tied down privy pot sat farther away. Talk about a seat with a view, I thought wryly.

I scanned the other peaks within the range of the long viewer, but couldn’t spot any other sentry stations. Which didn’t mean they weren’t there—if they’d gone to the trouble of setting up one, there would undoubtedly be others. Hell, maybe the Beak was meant to be their next one—it would explain the boxes and the barrier we’d come across.

If that were the case, though, we needed to find a means of preventing them from gaining ground here without giving them a reason to suspect we were aware of them.

Movement caught the edge of the long viewer’s glass. I turned the ring a fraction to sharpen the image again and saw the bird’s rider exit the metal tent, a bottle of some sort of green liquid in one hand and a long pipe in the other. He walked around the bird and took a seat on its claws; the bird shifted fractionally, and its chest feathers ruffled around the man, cloaking a good portion of his body. The man relaxed back, alternating between drinking and smoking.

These birds might be altered by magic, but the bond between rider and bird appeared to be a mutual one rather than enforced by magic.

Wear bands , Kaia said.

Bands?

On leg. Saw when attack.

The image of a metal ring encircling a scaly red leg flashed through my mind. It glowed; bird reacted.

I focused the long viewer on the bird’s legs, but it was partially sitting and its under feathers were fluffed up, concealing its legs. But there was a silver band similar to the image Kaia had sent on the rider’s left wrist.

Only one bird had ring , Kaia commented.

I frowned. How many attacked you?

Three.

Three of them. It was a wonder she and Gria had even survived. If only one had the ring, it’s possible it’s a communication device of some kind. Perhaps it’s a means of the lead bird and rider giving orders to the others.

Especially given the man wrapped in feathers had a similar band on his wrist.

Birds no speak? Drakkons smarter then.

Drakkons are definitely smarter , I agreed.

Something close to smugness rolled down the line between us. I smiled and shifted my stance, checking the peaks closer to Esan. I couldn’t see anything that caused alarm, but perhaps the Beak was their first foray into the mountains closer to Esan. I couldn’t help but wonder yet again why—given their superior air strength—they were being so cautious.

But maybe we were reading too much into the two attacks that had happened on our settlements. Maybe the force that had attacked Eastmead and the islands was the only force they had here, and they were simply testing our strengths and weaknesses while they awaited the arrival of their main force.

If that were true, then we needed to figure out a means of combating their winged battalion before the rest got here.

I glanced down at the gouges in the rocks again, then spun and walked back into the tunnel. After tying the long viewer back into place, I swung my pack on and headed back down to the cavern.

“Wife incoming,” I said as I neared.

“Husband warned and standing down.”

“Shame,” I said with a laugh. “I was looking forward to seeing you at full attention.”

“That could very easily be arranged if you’d stop flitting about after drakkons and armored birds.” His voice was dry. “But given the needs of the former appear to come before yours or mine, I suspect it might be some time yet before that happens.”

“I suspect you are sadly right.” I walked over to the large crate he was standing behind. It hadn’t yet been opened, but the others had, and they contained a variety of unmarked boxes and leather-wrapped goods. “What have we got?”

“A selection of food and camping items in the other boxes, if what I’ve pulled out is anything to go by.”

He sliced apart the leather strap binding the final box, then nodded for me to grab the edge of the lid. As one, we lifted it and slid it off the end. Inside was a selection of those metal tubes and several tubs of the dark liquid, and a collection of the smaller, translucent metal pouches.

“Weapons. They’re obviously in the process of setting up a supply station here.”

“Yeah.” I reached down and picked up one of the tubes. It was light and simple in design, with little more than the trigger and the attachment point for the metal pouch. There was no sight and no guard against possible splash back, making me wonder how useful these weapons would be in any sort of wind. “I wonder if we can use these things to bring down the tunnel and block this point of entry?”

“It would be better to use magic to destabilize the roof and bring it down that way.”

“Won’t they be able to sense your magic?”

“It’s a possibility, though likely a remote one, given I can’t sense theirs.”

I nodded. “I take it, then, that you are able to bring the roof down?”

“Wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t.”

I glanced at the tunnel for a second. “Will it take much energy?”

Amusement glimmered in his bright eyes. “Worried I won’t have the strength to rise to the occasion later on?”

I grinned. “From what I’ve witnessed over the years, a man could be three-quarters dead and still be erect and ready to go if opportunity arises.”

“If it was your luscious body they were reacting to, I am not surprised.”

“Luscious? Perhaps you need to get your eyes tested, husband, because I’m as far from luscious as you can get, especially in the breast department.”

“Your breasts are small, granted, but they are perfectly formed. And more than a handful is a waste?—”

“Said no man ever,” I cut in dryly, even as desire stirred. My breasts had been called many things—pimples, stone fruit, a waste of time—but never had anyone called them perfect. “And there’s no need to sweet-talk me—I have already decided to taste your wares.”

“And I do like a good tasting.” His slow smile was decidedly sexy, and my pulse skipped up several beats. “Rest assured I will return the favor.”

“Excellent.” It came out a little husky, and the heat in his gaze increased. I cleared my throat and did my best to ignore it. My pulse nevertheless skipped along in happy abandon, no doubt anticipating what was, at best, hours away. “Why I asked is—I was wondering if you could create some sort of barrier shield on the two internal entry points into the old aerie. Gria won’t be able to fly for a few days yet, and I’m worried about these invaders—or someone from Esan—randomly finding their way in.”

Eat if do came Kaia’s thought.

Eating isn’t the answer to every problem.

Is when men come hunt.

Have you ever eaten anyone?

Too gristly, no taste came the response. Better to bite and drop.

I smothered a laugh. Seriously?

Yes. No meat on bones.

“I gather Kaia is commenting on the proposal?” Damon said, voice dry again.

“More on how gristly people are as a meal. Why?”

“Because you get this very distracted expression when you’re listening to her.” He paused, frowning. “She really said we’re gristly?”

“Too gristly, no taste, and no meat on our bones, apparently.”

“I’m not sure whether to be worried by that comment or amused.”

“You’re safe from being taste tested,” I said with a grin. “And she’s promised to make Gria leave you alone.”

“Hmmm,” he said, in a gravelly, surprisingly sexy way.

But I suspected I’d find anything he did sexy right now. Rahtee—the goddess of lust, passion, and sexual pleasure—might have spent too many years overlooking my needs, but she’d definitely decided to hit me with the desire stick hard and heavy now.

I only hoped reality could live up to imagination. I suspected it would, but I’d been disappointed before far too many times.

“So, you can raise the barrier?”

“Yes, although my blood alone will not be enough.”

“I could ask Kaia if she could bring in a capra.”

They close . Can collect. Gria eat meat.

And with dawn rising, she should be safe from the gilded birds and their riders.

Hunt now? she added.

I repeated the question to Damon, and he shook his head. “The fresher the kill, the stronger the spell.”

Wait then. Tell when need.

Will do.

Damon walked around the crate and headed toward the tunnel. I trailed after him. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay here. Spells don’t often go wrong, but this one can be... touchy.”

“Because you’re destroying rather than protecting?”

He nodded. “It’s a bit of a gray area. It can work if the intent is to protect, but backlash is not unknown.”

I frowned. “Backlash?”

He nodded. “If I come tumbling out of the tunnel a raw and bloody mess, that’s backlash.”

Alarm flicked through me. “I’d appreciate you avoiding such an occurrence.”

“Oh, I plan to, if only because it’d play havoc with my seduction plans.” He swung off his pack and handed it to me, then brushed his lips across mine—a barely there caress that had me hungering for more. “Back in a few minutes.”

I nodded and watched him disappear into the gloom, then swung his pack over my shoulder and moved back behind the largest of the boxes. I had no idea how much of the tunnel would be affected, but it should be safe enough at the back here.

And hoped that I hadn’t just tempted Túxn to withdraw her favors and look the other way.

Time seemed to tick by extraordinarily slowly, but it was probably only five or so minutes later when a gentle vibration began to run through the ground. Stone dust began to sprinkle down from the ceiling, and I glanced up sharply. Tiny fissures raced across the ceiling, some of them meeting and merging, creating ever larger lines as they were drawn toward the exit tunnel.

Foreboding pulsed, and I turned, then hesitated, reaching back into the box to grab a handful of the metal tubes and a small tub of the liquid before hurrying toward the tunnel. I doubted Damon intended collapsing the whole cavern, but he’d also mentioned how unstable the spell could be. Better to be safe than sorry.

I stopped a few yards inside our escape tunnel, dropped my haul onto the ground near my feet, then crossed my arms and leaned against the rough wall. For several more minutes, nothing more happened. The needle-fine cracks continued to run together, creating a dangerous network of splinters across the cavern’s ceiling and the dust in the air increased, a red haze that quickly decreased visibility. A soft whoomph echoed, then the walls around me shuddered violently. Large slabs of stone began to rain from the cavern’s roof and, barely visible through the haze, a thicker cloud of dust and rocks ballooned out of the other tunnel.

Damon emerged from its middle, running hard. A heartbeat later, I saw why. Boulders chased his heels. Bounders big enough to crush.

The force of his spell hadn’t just collapsed the tunnel, it was about to take the whole damn cavern with it.