Rake My Lust (Dragons of Blood and Bone #3)

8. Found

8

FOUND

A s vivid white eyes penetrate me from the ancient drakaina’s blazing aura inside my mind, I get the feeling she’s grinning. I’ve just challenged her with words like a spitball to the face; I thought perhaps I’d be dead meat now, but that drakaina lowers her gargantuan, blocky head.

The surrounding brightness dims, and I see I face the largest Blood Dragon I’ve ever met. Beautiful, she’s magnificent with her serrated white scales, each tipped in gold.

Massive spines shoot from her back like golden spears upon her brightness, as she rakes gold-tipped white talons at me like a cat. Her mantle is glorious, with ancient gold runic patterns shining through the white. Her eyes blister battle-brimstone red now from their previous opal white as she regards me.

Eyes just as brimstone for a fight as mine, staring back at me.

You have guts, drakaina, challenging me. I like that, she says now as she shows herself to me in all her glory. For this, and for your truthful words, I will spare your life. But you have neglected to add that you are a Bloodwalker, like the ancients .

I pause now, knowing this drakaina understands far more about me than I’ve told her. Probably why she can judge whether I’m speaking the truth.

I am a Bloodwalker, yes, I say now as I regard her, though I have deep inner conflict about what I am and how to use my power, or how it may use me. I’m not just a puppet for my Ancestors. I’m not a puppet for anyone.

Righteous. I like that, too. She smiles more gently at me now as I somehow feel her understand my conflict. I used to share your fear that this power would use me, rather than me using it. All our ancient kind must face this truth about our magic; that the usefulness goes both ways, in order for us to be what we are. We are Bloodwalkers since time immemorial; we are the true rulers of the skies among the Dragons of Blood and Bone… now known only as Blood Dragons. For once, we were a balanced people, containing both sides of this magic. Then, a great schism happened, and the War of Blood and Bone split us apart… the Bone Dragons forever lost to the tides of myth and hate.

The War of Blood and Bone. I know to what she refers, a terrible time in our past five thousand years ago that goes by many names. Were you alive then?

I died in that war. She peers at me. But you have far more knowledge about all that than any of your kind who have come to me lately. You are investigating this war, studying it. You are… I feel her search my mind now, as a warm wind whispers through me, hunting something related to it. Tell me. Speak the truth. I will know if you don’t.

I hunt the Black Dragon, once called the Usurper, I say as I regard her frankly, now that her menacing light has diminished. That big, bone-dead fucker killed a dear friend of mine, though we had our problems. Now, I’m going to kill it .

You wish to kill the Usurper… she whispers now, as I feel her truth-reading wind sweep through me again, deeper this time. Her massive, blocky head lowers, until those searing red orbs look right into me .

Deep into my very soul.

Three things you have sworn to my ancient talon tips , she says now, as she watches me. First, is that you hunt the Black Demon of Unhaemmerten for your King. Second, is that you are trying to stop this heinous creature, rather than control it to use it for yourself. And third, is that you had nothing to do with the attack on your beloved mentor, and the manner of her death. Tell me: are these true? Or false?

I know we’ve come to it now, my moment of truth. I have to tell this ancient dragon everything, right from my heart, if I want to save myself.

Along with both my drakes, currently in separate conversations with her.

The first point is false. I say now, baring my heart, plain as plain, to her.

How so? She cocks her massive head at me.

Though I hunt this thing on my King’s orders, I truly hunt it for myself, I say now, knowing my heart on this matter. I want to fuck that creature up and make it pay for killing Maryse. I hunt it for myself, rather than my King.

You have spoken true. She nods, and something eases inside me as I heave out a relieved breath. As I do, something inside me panics, knowing I heaved out a breath underwater, also, as my dragon.

Seriously cutting down my survival time down in the bone-pile—by a lot.

The second point? The ancestral drakaina asks me now as her red eyes sear into me.

That one is true. I nod, knowing my heart on this matter as well. I don’t want to control that big fucker. I want to bring it down. End of story. I have no use for power like that.

You don’t, do you? She whispers now, like a breath of ancient air in my lungs. Though I’m trapped in this mind-space with her, I can feel my real lungs struggling now, deep underwater. Long before Strom runs out of air, I’m going to run out from that massive exhalation I gave just now .

All of us dying in this Trial—because of me.

What about the third point? she asks briskly now, as if sensing I have little time left. Can you swear to me you had nothing to do with your beloved mentor’s death and the manner of her passing?

As I think about it now, however… I know I’ve already failed this Trial. Deep inside, I know I did have something to do with Maryse’s death. I know some ancient resonance between my blood and bones called that terrible, undead creature to the council hall of the Black Dragon Knights that night—and that it responded to my wrath.

I know I’m responsible for Maryse’s death, because the ancient magic of my Bloodwalker ancestor created that terrible Black Dragon. And from our interaction in the council’s hall, I know it still responds to the magic of our bloodline.

As I feel flayed to my very soul now, before one of the ancients who knew it of old.

I killed her. I killed Maryse. I whisper now as I stare up into those searing red eyes and tell my darkest truth. Something in my wrath called that beast right to me that night. Maybe it was already hunting for me, or her… but whatever the case, my furious emotions with the Council provoked that attack. I caused her death… at the talons of the very same creature my ancestor created .

I feel it as this ancient ancestral Blood Dragon stares at me. For a long time, she says nothing—so long, I feel my air blistering in my lungs, as my dragon body beneath the water struggles to hold on to the last of my oxygen and not give up and drown.

But at last, the massive drakaina nods. As she closes her ancient eyes, I see something silver glow upon her forehead, searing through her scales and flesh.

The very same silver stone we all touched, deep in the heart of the pile of bones.

Go, with the blessing of Aesa. She bows her head to me, bringing that rune-worked silver stone right near my hand as I stand before her in our mind-space. Take my Truthstone as you journey to unmake the Black One, and wear it evermore upon your flesh. For I made it to enhance my deepest perceptions, to magnify my dragon’s instincts a hundredfold, along with my human ones, so I could know what was right in any situation. Take this tool, now. I give it to you. And bring the Black One down—for good.

As I reach out my hand, I understand this ancient drakaina is offering me a great gift. I’m not quite sure what this gift will entail, but it feels right to touch that luminous silver stone now, as it blazes with white and gold runes, swirling in all its glory before me.

My fingers touch the stone of Aesa’s Truth—and it vanishes from her, as I feel it rush right into my very own flesh. The silver burns, even as it feels so right; a magnificent rune from the stone blazes a battle-brimstone red all inside me now as I’m thrust backwards out of the mind-space.

The bright drakaina Aesa disappears as I’m hammered back to awareness inside my dragon body—catapulted up through the bone pile and the water of the lake. As I’m banished from the blazing white mind-space, Aesa’s silvery Truth burns all through me, like wildfire with that blazing red rune.

I’m launched from the drakaina’s dead underwater skull. That searing sensation of Truth rips through the skin over my heart now, like a firebrand as I scream, using up the very last of my air. I’m already being blasted out of the lake, though, right up through the hole in the lake.

Landing in a sodden heap on the ice.

Bjorn and Strom are catapulted out of the water with me. As we cough and splutter, shifting down to human, we find our wounds healed and our bodies renewed.

I feel something burn on the skin of my chest, however. I glance down and my lips fall open, as Bjorn and Strom both exclaim. Because right over my breast bone where my heart chakra is, a luminous silver object has been buried in my skin.

Aesa’s silver Truthstone—embedded now in my chest.

It glows there like starlight and moonlight, etched with ancient Blood Dragon runes that write and re-write themselves, blazing with a subtle white light. As they move and change shape, I see gold sear through them. They remind me of that drakaina’s white and gold scales, as I see a rune of red shine through, vivid, just as happened when the object rushed into me.

Scalding me like the truth-knowing power of Aesa’s ancient red eyes.

“Aesa’s Truth…” I whisper, as I touch that intricate silver gem. It quiets until it looks like only a polished silver stone.

Though it’s embedded permanently in the skin of my chest.

The strange silver stone is the least of my concerns now, however, as Jarl Oggi Magnussen roars, side-winding to us fast in his massive dragon form over the ice. Even as he does, though, a second force barrels in—the ten dragons from the Eriksson Clan rushing in before us.

As Strom, Bjorn, and I recover on the ice, Strom’s family spread their lean wings, fast. At their own Jarl’s command, they hammer a hard blow of air at Jarl Oggi Magnussen—that sends him right to his ass as the ten nasty Eriksson dragons lower their heads and hiss.

As Jarl Oggi rights himself, Jarl Jorg Eriksson lowers his viciously serrated head and stares his neighboring Jarl down. Jarl Jorg is even smaller than his family in shifted form; but power boils off him like a typhoon of Bloodwind now, as a vast standoff happens before us.

Jarl Oggi’s honor guard and his prison guards rush to his side, facing off with the Erikssons. The Magnussen dragons are massive compared to the Eriksson lot. But power seethes off Strom’s kin like ten hurricanes now.

All equal in their might to Jarl Jorg, or nearly so.

As Strom, Bjorn, and I heave hard breaths, helping each other up off the ice, we’re nowhere near able to shift up to join the fight. The Eriksson clan protects us, however, as all around, the Magnussen witnesses shift uncomfortably in their boulder thrones.

Because they’ve all seen we were successful in our Trial, in a situation that was damn near a complete death sentence. It’s clear Jarl Oggi wanted to kill us, and found a loophole to sentence us to our watery death when he pronounced we had to do our Trial together.

Now that we are successful, beating all odds and rising like leviathans from the deeps, he’s furious.

Wanting to kill us right here and now, for defeating him.

“ Stand down, Jorg . I have a right to punish my son, so he learns his lessons. ” Jarl Oggi gives a vicious snarl now as the Magnussens and Erikssons face off. His human voice pummels through my thoughts, as his dragon’s voice rumbles. Some immensely powerful dragons can communicate mind-to-mind without being life-mated; Jarl Oggi is apparently one of these, though this is the first time I’ve heard him use it.

Rather than remain in dragon form, however, Jarl Jorg shifts down, standing before the menacing Jarl Oggi in his thin, lean stature.

A nasty smile upon his face.

“I won’t have my great-grandson and his mate be caught in your crossfire,” Jarl Jorg says now as he grins viciously at Jarl Oggi. “And since my Jarl-Heir is life-mated via a Bloodwalker’s power to not just said Bloodwalker, but also to your son, you killing your son might just kill my Heir. I won’t stand for it. Rikyava, Strom, and Bjorn passed your little test. By your own Magnussen laws, they have free passage to the border now, which I am thankfully here to enforce.”

“Jarl Jorg Eriksson is right, my Jarl,” that fierce old drakaina barks now from her high seat as many of the witnesses around her nod. Her voice is like iron as her ruby gaze pins us on the ice. “The Eriksson Jarl-Heir, our Hog Skjaldm?r, and our own former Jarl-Heir have free passage, now that they have proven they speak the Truth. Or would you gainsay our ancient Magnussen benefactress, she who has given our clan so many gifts of Truth these past millennia?”

As a watchful stir takes the witnesses above and all around, Jarl Oggi Magnussen pauses. Even as his big drake, he thinks about what this fierce old drakaina said.

I wonder who she is, that she has the power to make her own Jarl pause in his tracks.

“Bjorn, Rikyava, and Strom have spoken true that they are on a mission for the King, my Jarl.” I hear Captain Olander Mortensen’s voice now as he steps up beside his shifted brethren upon the ice in human form—and I understand he did not shift to oppose us when his Jarl’s other guards did.

Captain Olander looks at us, and I see his clever thoughtfulness in his eyes now, as he plays a card for us. “To waylay them now, even though they desecrated one of our most sacred spaces, would be High Treason against our King who wishes they continue their hunt. They have also spoken true that they are hunting the Black Dragon of Unhaemmerten … risen again in modern times to destroy us.”

“Your young captain is right,” that fierce old drakaina barks again from the high circle of boulder thrones. “A wise Jarl who loves his people might be more interested in stopping the ancient creature who once decimated Seerselen and many more of our villages. Because our ancient benefactress Aesa has determined these three speak the truth—in all three points we wished clarified. Which means the Black Demon has indeed risen again, and these three are on the most noble mission possible: to stop it before it wrecks infernal havoc upon us once more.”

“The Black Dragon has attacked no one in your territory yet, Oggi. Best let your son and his mates go to stop it before it can slaughter countless thousands of your people. Eh?” Jarl Jorg says cleverly now as he gives Oggi an eyebrow lift.

“The desecration they did at Unhaemmerten was to gain information about the Black Demon,” Captain Olander says now as he backs us up, as well. “Entering that place and disturbing it served deep purpose, my Jarl. They hunt a demon of the ages. And they needed information from the most ancient ages… to find the key to bringing it down.”

As everyone goes silent now, the Eriksson retinue still facing off with Jarl Oggi and his guards, a tense moment takes the basin. Countless dragon magics whirl around me now, ready for a fight; I breathe into my power, feeling my Bloodwalker energy rise.

It’s strongly connected to Strom’s and Bjorn’s again, now that we’re no longer magically bleeding out and slowly drowning. But Jarl Oggi doesn’t want to back down. He’s got a vendetta against his son for showing him up, yet again.

Not to mention surviving the impossible, a voyage to the Truth—which I doubt Jarl Oggi has done himself.

It makes him look weak in his clan’s eyes. It makes Bjorn look like their true Jarl, yet again, as all the top people in Jarl Oggi’s clan witness it. As Bjorn steps forward now, touching Jarl Jorg’s lean shoulder to get the aged man to step aside, Strom’s great-grandfather does. Approval is in the elder Eriksson’s eyes as Bjorn faces his father, me and Strom stepping up behind him.

Ready for a fight, even though we’re barely recovered enough to do it.

“I will come for you.” Bjorn stares at his father, his voice the calmest, and most certain, I’ve ever heard it, as his bright red-gold power stirs in a slow Bloodwind around him. “Be it a day, a week, a month, or a year… I will come to unseat you again, for good. Too long you’ve ruled our clan with too much brutality and too little thought. They deserve better… and they will get it. Just as soon as I am finished with this hunt.”

“ Go, with your tail between your legs, cur. ” Still in his dragon form, Jarl Oggi sneers at his son with cruel fangs. “ For though you have been victorious this day, you and I both know you only run from me now because you are weak. Face me—fight for your right to lead this clan. Or go… and let everyone here see how much of a coward you really are. ”

As Bjorn stares at his father, for a moment, I think he’ll take the bait. But this new, far stronger and more in-control Bjorn shakes his head. His glance spears daggers into his father—more than words ever could. And then he’s moving, turning his back on his father.

Completely.

“Come on, let’s go,” Bjorn says with the most calm I’ve ever heard from him as his gold eyes shine with the power of his dragon. “My father will get his, in time. Right now, we have a Black Dragon to find. Best we get to it.”

Bjorn kisses me, then glances at Strom and grips his shoulder. As I take Strom’s hand and Bjorn’s, we share a moment, understanding that this is all that matters, now that we’ve passed our Trial.

Our deepest Truth with each other, found.