11. Mercy Waits Only for Death, a Righteous Cause for Vengeance
11. MERCY WAITS ONLY FOR DEATH, A RIGHTEOUS CAUSE FOR VENGEANCE
ELOWYN
Einar circled the cabin in gradually lower flybys. Alarmed cries tracked his progress. His wings were wide as he soared.
Shit , I’d made a crucial mistake. Einar, I projected frantically toward the sky. You’re too big to land in the clearing. Way too big .
Einar belonged somewhere like the Nightguard Mountains. There, the dragons had an entire range of peaks just for themselves.
Hugging Saffron to my chest so the little guy wouldn’t keep bouncing against my back, I bolted through the bit of forest I’d crossed, and ran past Roan and Reed. Both men were red-faced, their focus ferocious. Roan was levitating the enormous tree trunk a foot off the collapsed roof, sweat beading upon his brow. Reed balanced atop the precariously tipped debris, leaning all his weight into the log, heaving it inch by slow inch off to one side. The veins in his temples bulged, as did the muscles in his arms and thighs. Ordinarily I would have paused to offer help or at the very least some encouragement. Not today.
Einar, are you listening to me?
“Dammit,” I muttered, and kept running, endlessly grateful that the superior healing of the fae had been activated in my body. After the damage I’d sustained in the queen’s hellhole of a doorway, Edsel had warned that I might have a limp for the rest of my days. Despite the dire urgency of the circumstances, I grinned. I didn’t quite feel myself yet, and every step jarred bits that ached, but I was running— and no limp, motherfuckers!
Upon rounding the cabin, off to the farthest side of the clearing that was—yeah, much too small for a dragon like Einar—Larissa and West hunkered over Ramana, whom he clutched in his arms. Several other fae who were just as emaciated appeared to be sleeping beside them. I hoped that meant everyone from this location had survived. What a tragedy it would be to arrive to rescue the queen’s captives only to kill them through our efforts.
I drew to a stop, the dragonling burrowing against me, his ear pressed to my thundering heartbeat as if it calmed him.
Hiroshi and Ryder were emerging from the house with a dormant fae stretched between them. With a glance toward the sky—and the threat swooping ever closer—they shuffled over to where Larissa and West waited, lowering the body gently to the ground. Immediately, Larissa bent to check on the fae’s condition. With dark, long, greasy hair resting over their chest, sharply gaunt features, and cracked pale lips, I couldn’t tell if they were male or female.
I cast my attention upward. Einar. It’s not polite to ignore me, you know? You can’t land in the clearing. It’s too?—
I can do whatever I want. I am a fuerin.
I understand that. Your magnificence and authority aren’t in question. But you can’t?—
I can, he thundered.
I was going to say, you can’t crush my friends.
But I can, he insisted as he circled so low that treetops brushed his scaled belly, snapping off large branches heavy with leaves, one after the other— craaaaack , craaaaaaackkkkk , craaackkkkk .
I tensed while I waited for them to fall. One pulled down another smaller branch as it crashed into it but landed innocuously at the forest’s edge. Another landed with a noisy crunch of foliage beyond my view. And a third thudded like a giant’s arrow, bouncing as it hit a patch of mottled grass mere feet from West.
“For fuck’s sake,” he yelled up at the dragon.
I thought we were allies, I snapped in Einar’s direction.
A fuerin does not ally. We fuerin fight for ourselves.
So you and I aren’t allies? I thought we were going to take down the shadow together?
He flew by again, dragging down another limb as he did. This crack made me and Saffron jump. The branch was the largest yet, dropping somewhere out in the woods with accompanying snaps of whatever dominoes it had taken out in its descent.
Shit, shit, shit, shit! Where was Rush? He could be out there, knocked out by any of those branches. My heart seemed to still. Saffron’s spine stiffened in my embrace in response.
“Rush,” I was bellowing before I could consider my actions. I ran out into the clearing. He’d called for me. Where the fuck was he? “Rush!”
Long seconds passed. I hadn’t even gotten to kiss him since we’d been reunited. We hadn’t hugged. And we certainly hadn’t made love.
“Rush,” I screamed.
“Here,” he grunted, sounding pained. “At the back.”
While my relief was so intense as to be overwhelming, he added, “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
Too fucking late for that.
“Deal with the dragons. We’ve got Ivar.”
At his use of the plural, I instantly felt like an absolute dick. “And Xeno? Is he alright?” Just because I didn’t love him the way I loved Rush didn’t mean I should forget about the one friend who’d always stood by me. By a dragon’s ingrown claw, what was happening to me?
Another dangerous snap jerked my attention back to Einar. What a stubborn fuck he was turning out to be .
I heard that, he said.
Good, I growled in my thoughts as an entire treetop came crashing down. It was bushy with full leaves and hit the other side of the clearing that was growing smaller as the dragon clogged it with tree parts. At least it was the farthest spot from the cabin.
My connection with you is not that of an ally, Einar was saying as if he weren’t trying to bring down the forest with his bulk, actively making all of us down here glaringly aware of our vast differences in size and might. But we are connected nonetheless.
I tamped down the how? as he swooped lower as if to cut down more trees.
As calmly as I could manage, I told him, You’ll kill us all if you continue this. We aren’t as strong as you nor as resilient. If a tree lands on us, we’ll die. Is that what you want?
“Mistress.”
I spun to discover Pru had snuck up on me. Her ashen face was drawn, her hands wringing her dingy frock to reveal spindly legs and knobby knees. With my wide-eyed attention on her, she amended, “Elowyn.”
I smiled at her correction. “Yes, Pru?”
“Mistress is speaking with the dragon?”
I had no idea how she’d know that, but Pru had a knack for surprising me. I nodded.
“Dragons are stubborn creatures,” she said.
I hummed. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Tell her I heard that, Einar interjected.
I’ll do no such thing. She’s nervous enough as it is. Thanks to you. I left out the part where the goblin had been nervous since I first met her, the queen’s threats a constant pall over her.
I do not wish to kill any of you, Einar said. Only the shadow.
“The dragon will keep flying until he tires,” Pru was saying. She scratched Saffron under the chin, where his scales were still soft, and the dragonling closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Then he’ll land on all of us.” When I didn’t remark at this possibility, she added, “Pru’s heard the stories, Mistress.”
“Hmmm,” I said as I tipped my stare back to the sky, where Einar was banking for another flyby.
“It might be better to suggest a … direction,” Pru said, “than to tell him what to do.”
I faced her again. “Go on.”
As if she suspected Einar could hear her, she lowered her voice to a rough whisper. “Make him think it’s his idea.”
I nodded encouragingly. “Okay, okay … keep going.”
“We need him to land safely. But there’s no such thing as safety, not with a dragon, and not with the queen. It’s always off with our heads.”
I pursed my lips to keep from agreeing with her, pressing a kiss to Saff’s cheek instead.
She leaned forward. I crouched to meet her head-on. My knees crackled as I bent, one of my thigh muscles burning prematurely. A monster had sliced it open in the doorway. I swallowed my grimace and waited for her to continue, making myself ignore the panicked yelps rising from the others.
“Pru thinks he could take down the trees on purpose.”
I felt my brow furrow. “What?” That was … insane.
She nodded; her limp hair barely bounced. She wrung her hands until the knuckles paled. “He could take down the trees away from the cottage. Then he can land.”
Pursing my lips, I considered. It was a dubious plan. A whole lot could go wrong with Einar intentionally ripping down trees.
I watched as he smacked an enormous wing into a tree canopy—possibly on purpose—and it snapped in half. It fell but clung to the trunk, hanging precariously from it, waiting to fall: a death trap.
“Thanks, Pru,” I told her without turning. “Good idea.” Not the best, surely not, but also not the worst.
Tracking Einar’s flight—fuck, was he powerful and graceful!—I led him through Pru’s suggestions. He didn’t even resist. Perhaps that should have made me wary, but what better choice did we have?
The tension ratcheted up as the massive dragon heaved groaning trees from the ground, a shower of dirt raining down from their roots. He snapped them in half with jolting claps, before flinging them behind him, mindless of how the discarded trees knocked down others. Or he landed on a tree, appearing as a bird on a pinhead, balancing himself with a few mighty flaps of his wings, before clutching trees in his wicked claws and crunching them into pieces.
Are you enjoying yourself? I asked him with all the sarcasm I could muster. Wrapped up in all that power, I sensed his unbridled delight.
Oh, mightily, the dragon said. This is the best idea you have had yet. He flung aside a tree that was maybe sixty-feet long as if it were a mere stick. I barely mind that you attempted to manipulate me, a fuerin.
I didn’t attempt to manipulate you. I did manipulate you. But only ‘cause you were endangering lives. And our mission is to save fae, not kill them.
Save a singular one.
Save one, I affirmed.
At the racket, Saffron had turned to peer toward Einar. I rubbed the still-soft crown of his head. “You like all that chaos, huh, boy?”
Saffron chuffed, twin balls of smoke puffing from his nostrils.
“I know you do. Someday you’ll get to do that too.” I caressed his head some more. “Well, maybe not that exactly. I would appreciate you taking into account the well-being of the forest and the safety of others.” With how magic coursed through the land, did the trees feel their destruction? Were arbosauruses among them?
Fuerin are not concerned with safety, Einar commented.
You don’t say.
With each foreclaw, he snapped a tree, then hurled them both behind him with such force that he bowled swaths through the woods.
By sunshine, Einar, you’re breaking everything! Enough already. There are fae who might be dying as I supervise you.
Balanced atop a tree canopy he dwarfed despite its fullness, it took me several moments of silence to realize he’d stopped moving.
“Uh … Mistress?” Pru asked from behind me, her shaky voice precisely matching my own nervousness.
I didn’t glance at her or any of the others I sensed crowding closer. What had I said? I barely paid attention to what came out of my mouth, or worse, my thoughts, which were proving impossible to censor.
Einar still hadn’t moved. The tree canopy shivered beneath his bulk.
Supervise me? Einar’s question was a hissed accusation as it tore through my mind.
I grimaced. Shit , I had said that, hadn’t I?
I am a fuerin ! You are a fae. Fae do not supervise fuerin, he thundered.
Despite the obvious peril of his anger, I couldn’t help but smile. After a lifetime of believing I was only half fae, the other part of me human, it was still odd to hear myself referred to plainly as fae . A member of a magical race.
You are smiling. Why are you smiling ? You should be cowering in fear! I am a fuerin.
Yeah, I got that, promise. Look, Einar, I will never fail to admire your awesomeness. Not just all fuerin, but you specifically, are majestic. I am but a fae, as you pointed out. My smile widened. As a mere fae, I can only handle so much at once, and I have really urgent stuff happening on the ground. Like, life-threatening stuff. Like, if I didn’t get my hands on my mate in the next ten minutes, I was going to scream.
Huuuuh , he said, still motionless atop that tree. The magic of mates. That, we fuerin do understand.
Though I fully expected him to keep resisting my pleas, he broke the tree he crouched on, then let it fall to the ground of its own momentum as he landed—carefully and gently—in the center of the clearing. He occupied all of it, my companions scurrying to its edges or into the cabin to avoid being crushed by the terrifying dragon.
Thank you for landing safely, I said. Any chance you could appear a bit less … intimidating? Like you aren’t thinking of eating them all?
I am thinking of eating them all.
My hand stilled in mid-caress along Saffron’s spine. Well, in that case, maybe pretend you aren’t?
He chuffed, and Larissa, Pru, Zafi, and Azariah squeaked when smoke streamed from his nostrils.
Great. Thanks ever so much, I quipped.
You are welcome.
My eyes rolled all on their own. Can I trust that everyone will be safe if I walk away?
Whether or not you trust is entirely your decision.
I craned my neck back to look up at his face. It towered as high as some of the shorter new-growth trees. Even forty feet up, his black eyes were big as my head.
He stared down at me. Huuuuh . Huuuuh . Huuuuh .
My eyes bulged. Are you laughing at me again?
I only laugh when there is good reason to laugh. Mirth makes long life sweeter.
I couldn’t agree more. Would I ever laugh again while in the Mirror World? Sure I would, I decided. Once the queen wasn’t part of it, there would be plenty of reasons to celebrate.
With all four of Einar’s legs firmly on the ground, I glanced around. Larissa, Zafi, and Pru were assisting Edsel as he fussed over the sleeper-fae who were sprawled across the clearing. Azariah huddled next to Bertram, who looked on with a slight smile—assuming giant, magical frogs could smile. West sat cradling Ramana over his lap. I was beginning to wonder if he might be physically incapable of letting her go now that he’d found her again. Hiroshi and Ryder were somewhere, possibly inside freeing more of the queen’s captives—or possibly aiding Roan and Reed around back.
A relieved exhale whooshed out of me as Rush, astride Bolt, popped around a corner leading a trussed-up Ivar by a rope. His legs bound, the queen’s advisor had to jump to keep from being dragged. Rush guided Bolt at a gentle pace, not due to Ivar’s limitations but out of consideration for Ivar’s horse. The steed was limping so severely it seemed as if each of his steps might end with him crumpling. Rush’s beautiful lips were pressed into a hard line of regret.
“Where’s Xeno?” I asked just as he rounded the bend behind the horses. My entire frame relaxed while I continued to pet Saffron distractedly. My friend was in his dragon form. As I studied him, an unintentional gasp slipped free, loud enough for dragon-Xeno to jerk his head my way. Several times smaller than Einar, Xeno was still magnificent, all corded muscle, vicious lines, and lethal edges. His scales were shinier than when I’d last seen his dragon, indicating how much healing he’d achieved. In sunlight they were nearly silver. In the shade of this forest, they were a moody slate gray. But his wings…
“Oh, X,” I whispered.
Yes, they’d mended some since he’d taken on a horde of umbracs to protect the rest of us. And he’d assured me he could still fly. But they were far from the smooth, aerodynamic appendages they used to be.
Xeno tipped his lips upward in what would have passed for a sad smile when he was a man. As a dragon, his bared teeth would have appeared menacing had I not known he’d never hurt me. He’d taken an arrow to the chest in his attempt to save me from being abducted and delivered to the Mirror World.
Melancholy bubbled up my chest until it spilled out of me in an abrupt sob.
Xeno bared more of his teeth—his sadness deepening with my empathy. His intent dragon stare holding mine, he pulled his wings tight against his back as he followed Rush, who was heading toward me.
It was then that a final head-count caught up with me. With the immediate threat of an enormous dragon raining timber upon our heads addressed, I realized who was missing.
“The green dragon,” I uttered to no one in particular.
Rush’s head swiveled, searching for him as Bolt advanced at a sauntering pace.
I jerked my head back so I could see Einar’s face. Did the green fuerin not make it? Since Rush did, even after the shadow cut the rope, I thought…
He is gone.
Gone? The thought of shouldering another loss stuttered through my chest. I might not have known the green dragon, but I’d still failed him.
He still lives for now. But he is gone.
But … was it the shadow-magic chains that held him back?
It was mercy. No fuerin should have to endure what he did. He waits only for death.
That’s … awful.
That is a cause for vengeance.
Hatred for the queen speared me so savagely that I couldn’t even voice my agreement. Never had a person needed to die more.