65. Xander
Chapter 65
Xander
Make It Bun Dem — Skrillex, Damian Marley
F rancesca and I return from our trip four days later. Her parents were insistent on showing me their properties and businesses. For some reason, and despite my lack of interest, they were eager to please me. As if pleasing me would get me to actually love their foul daughter.
My alleged wife insists on reporting to my father’s office with me, despite me saying that I’d prefer it to be private.
When we find him, however, standing at his desk with his hands on his hips, he’s quite smug when he sees the both of us.
“Welcome,” he says, far too happily.
His glee is fully reserved for Francesca alone, and I don’t even feel jealous as I take my regular seat.
“You will be pleased to hear that we’ve had a successful exchange,” he says to me after kissing the dragoness on both cheeks.
Francesca claps and looks between us.
“What exchange?” I frown.
“Lady Crocodylus,” Francesca says, grinning at me with her teeth. “She placed a winning bid for the Boneweaver. We’re considerably richer!”
My stomach turns.
“Yes, she was quite excited,” Father says wryly, sitting in his chair and gesturing for Francesca to do the same. “She has quite a few plans, Lady Katerina.”
I go still. At his words. At Francesca’s giddy joy. At the scent that suddenly wafts my way.
“Urgh, what is that?” Francesca says, wrinkling her nose as it hits her too. “It’s coming from that cabinet.”
I’ve already turned towards the old baroque thing. It’s heavy and ancient, like the rest of the furniture in the room, passed down from father to son. Hints of gold line the scrollwork at the top. Father’s upgrade to it leaves a mechanical hum in the air.
“Yes, I have it refrigerated for the new scientists, but I wanted to keep it in here for a bit.”
There is no other thought in my mind, only singular purpose as I rise from my chair and stride towards the cabinet. A dull roar grows in my ears.
A voice comes to me through the din, like an old echo. Don’t open it.
But I’ve gotten used to ignoring the voices in my head. My father doesn’t stop me when I wrench it open.
Francesca screams.
When I speak, my voice emerges dragon-guttural, heat pouring from my skin and flooding the room. My shoulders heave in a breath. “Who did this?”
“Oh, you recognise it, do you?” my father drawls, sitting back in his chair. “I suppose you would. We’d charged you and that General Ghoul to break the girl. And when you both failed in the matter, I had?—
My shift is explosive.
When my dragon tears from my skin, we destroy the entire tower. Stone and dust explode in every direction. I barely hear Francesca’s screams, barely care as I launch into the twilight with a shower of fire pouring from my throat.
There is only one image in my mind: the sight of Aurelia with her leg missing from the thigh down, her screaming and pouring blood.
Her dying.
She doesn’t deserve this. Never deserved this, no matter who her father is, no matter who her mother was. No matter what she was to me.
“ You have severed our connection to her,” my dragon seethes to my human self. “We cannot track her.”
“We don’t fucking need to,” I snarl back. “ We know where The Collector’s dwelling is.”
“They are protected.”
“And I will tear down every fucking reptile on the property.”
“For once, we are of the same mind.”
At full, terrible speed, it only takes me one hour before the white eaves of Katerina Crocodylus’ house come into view.
So much fucking white. I will make it black today.
I announce my arrival with a furious roar. The crocodiles and alligators in the rivers surrounding the property look up before diving under the water for protection. Even so, I sweep low and spew fire above them.
Find her first, find her first, find her first , I remind myself.
Aurelia will have protected herself with her powerful Boneweaver magic, and what condition she’s in, I cannot even guess. She’s alive, that is the only guaranteed thing.
I land on the now-smouldering roof of the central building, lean down and grip a part of the roof in my mouth before wrenching it right off. It comes away with a terrible metallic shriek. I shrink into human form and jump down into the top floor. Everyone is scattering as I charge through them.
“Where is she!” I roar. “Where is Aurelia?”
Those of her servants who don’t run freeze in place like prey.
“You!” I cry, pointing to a young woman, staring with eyes wide, the whites visible all the way around. She has a port wine stain above her steel collar. “Poultry. Where is she?” She doesn’t answer, merely stares at me with a terror unique to prey in headlights. I take her by the shoulders and shake her. In a quieter voice, I say. “Tell me where she’s keeping the Boneweaver.”
She swallows. “Downstairs.”
“Show me,” I command.
I have to give her a little push to get going, but she ends up stumbling down one set of stairs and then another until we’re on the ground floor.
The rumble of engines sound out the front, followed by many car doors slamming. “Hold on,” I tell the girl.
Striding quickly, I open the front door on its useless modern swivel hinge and am met by a group of four crocs armed with rifles, cocked and ready.
They are resistant to most types of magic, because that is their order’s power, but I’m a motherfucking dragon.
With a flick of my wrists, their guns clatter to the floor. I lash out with my hands and four ropes of fire whip out of each one, securing around each of their necks. They grunt under the heat but don’t fall. I have to yank at the ropes to get them to tumble.
I curse under my breath because the fire isn’t burning through their skin. Rolling my eyes, I stride outside, dragging them with me. Fixing the four ropes under my bare foot, I push at the marble crocodile statue. It groans and grumbles in protest, but it eventually gives way and I roll it on top of the four ropes.
That should keep them from interfering for a while, at least.
Making sure the guns are out of their reach, I then run inside, where the chicken is waiting for me, hugging herself in fright. I follow her once again into a big room that’s supposed to be a throne room. Steam leaves my nose in a haze of black, but I frown when she leads me to a very ordinary-looking fish tank in the corner next to the throne.
“What is this?” I snap.
“It’s not a joke,” she says, finally finding her voice. She points to something in the tank. “She’s that one.”
With my heart pounding, I peer through the glass. She’s pointing to a starfish, a pale blue thing, as if leeched of all its colour. It only has four arms, its fifth is but a horrid stub.
Even without the tiny golden ring around its topmost limb, I would know that shade of sapphire in any lifetime. Even sickly and pale. Even if I were blind and powerless. Even with a severed bond, I would know her.
“Get me a container,” I command. “A small one with a lid.”
She runs off at full speed. Holding my breath, I reach into the tank. She twitches when I touch her, and it makes me want to destroy the entire house. But my hands are gentle as I lift her out of the water and behold her.
“You are safe now,” I whisper. “You are safe with me, Aurelia.”
I wonder if she will believe that.
The chicken comes back with a tupperware container. I take it from her and fill it with water from the tank before placing Aurelia inside of it.
Then I look around the room.
“Please don’t burn the house,” she says, tears filling his eyes. “My bond-sisters are locked up below ground. They can’t leave.”
I’m too full of fury, too vengeful and empty of any care for other creatures to deign to give her a verbal answer. I only charge out of the house without another word, explode into my dragon form, and in one big claw, clutched safely, is Aurelia inside her container.
I tear across the land, to the one place of safety my heart desires. The one place where I keep all my treasures and jewels safe and away from the rest of the world.
Deep into the heart of the Blue Mountains, where my horde lies hidden.