Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Humans love routine. Disrupt it just enough to keep them rattled. It’s good for their circulation.
-Humaning for Beginners: A Dragon’s Tale of Human Management
Icalled Adelaide to the suite. Though I’d said nothing about Taron’s shirtless state, she arrived with a fitted white tee.
“To replace your bloodstained one.” She tossed the garment at him. “No need to thank me.”
“Wasn’t going to,” Taron muttered as he caught and donned the offering. He made sure to tuck the ring and its chain beneath the neck, then gripped it from underneath the fabric for several seconds.
What did it mean to him?
He sat on the couch to organize the weapons in his pack. Daggers, grenades, something that looked suspiciously like a twelve-inch fang carved into a blade.
Focus. My guest didn’t even pretend not to listen as I told my sister about the trip while packing my own bag. A healing tonic, a cashmere scarf and a retractable spear topped my list of essentials.
“Don’t forget this,” she said, handing me a small box for my soundpods. “Just in case another episode of Gravely Curious drops.”
“I think the words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you, dear sister, for addicting me to a fun murder mystery podcast.’”
She nodded with a smile, then her face grew serious. “You’re sure this isn’t a trap? A gingerbread trail of Professor Hottie’s own design?”
Scorch it all! I should’ve thought of that. He might’ve lied about not wanting to kill me anymore. But still… “It’s worth the risk.” Honestly, I would rather die than end up like my father. “He’s found all but three items on the list. They are stored—”
“In a secret room inside my home,” he admitted.
Sigh. Back to the United States then. “Malachi will demand my head on a platter.” Whatever. “We’ll pick those up then—”
“Let your sister pick up what I’ve already located.
” Taron motioned to Adelaide. “Aren’t there rules about stepping foot on each other’s territory?
A war between the dragon queen and griffin king will complicate matters.
And it should still count as quote-unquote gathering together if it’s all here when we return.
” He wrote his address on a piece of paper and passed it to my sister. “This is where I’ve stored everything.”
“Right. Because this totally isn’t a trap,” she muttered, but accepted the paper anyway. “You happened to collect the things we need?”
“I knew I would bond with Olyssa if I failed to kill her during round one, and I expected to break the connection after her death, wanting no remaining link,” he muttered back.
“It was supposed to be a just in case step. If I’d known how drastically this would affect me, I would’ve collected the other ingredients as well. ”
I huffed. “Or maybe not activated the bond at all.”
My sister glanced at the address before shoving the paper in her pocket. “Maybe I’ll pop into Emerald City Clucks in Ozworld, Kansas while I’m breaking centuries of treaties, truces and laws. They make the wickedest chicken sammies. Unlike you, sister dear, Malachi won’t know I’ve been there.”
“Thank you,” I said, giving her arm a squeeze. “If it’s a gingerbread trail, I promise I’ll make Taron pay for it.” And what if he’d laid a trail for me, too?
The “him” in question said nothing.
“Good.” Her thumbs danced over the screen of her phone as she spoke.
“I’ll inform everyone you’re holed up with your new firebrand, knowing each other, wink wink, and you’re not to be disturbed.
That should keep visitors at bay. Though you should be on alert, playing pants optional Olympics supposedly cements the Yrnblade’s power, making its thread unbreakable. So maybe don’t do that.”
I gulped as tremors rocked me. “Getting naked isn’t on the table.”
“Getting naked isn’t even in the room,” he muttered.
My sister rolled her eyes before glaring at Taron. “Obviously, I expect occasional proof of life. If ever I suspect foul play, I’ll unleash my wrath upon your mortal.” Then back to typing.
“He’s not my firebrand. And don’t you dare harm—”
Too late. She was already out the door.
I sighed and tossed my phone into the bag. “If you sent my sister into a trap–”
“I didn’t. I’m sending her to my treasury, and I’m risking everything I’ve spent my life collecting to get this done.” Taron stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder. His frozen honey irises projected a storm a thousand degrees colder than before. “Ready?”
I drew in a breath. “Might as well start with a bang and fetch the Sunsong Crystal first. It grows only in the Cavern of Echoes.” A dangerous and ancient place known for its ability to distort reality and trap minds.
No dragon dared venture there. “The stones can’t help us this trip.
We’ll have to fly. But you’ll have to trust me not to drop you. ”
“Fine.” He strode to the balcony, determined and unafraid. “The faster we get this done, the better.”
Wait. I’d only flown one other human—Leopold—and he’d nearly vomited from the lack of control, the windchill and the altitude. Of course, he’d been a blacksmith at a time before the invention of airplanes. Still.
“You’ll be behind me,” I explained, just in case Taron wasn’t comprehending my meaning. “Riding a smoke current from my wings.” It would feel as if he floated atop a blanket. “That’s how we train our toddlers before they can fly on their own.”
“Fine,” he said again. A gust of wind lifted his dark hair.
He still wasn’t getting it.
I edged closer, eyes narrowed. “If you scream, you’ll give away our location. My camouflage only works if we’re silent.”
He looked at me, unflinching. “If you’re done explaining things I already understand, we should go.”
I tsked. “So confident now.” That would change the moment we hit the skies.
I stepped out beside him, close enough to feel the heat that radiated off his skin. It wrapped around me, a temptation and a trap twined together, attempting to coax me closer.
Resisting? Nearly impossible. But resist I did.
Taron lifted my bag without a word, securing it to his back alongside the other. “Where is the camouflage you mentioned?”
“You’re about to find out,” I said, surprised by the simple courtesy.
Facing the night beyond the balcony, I drew a deep breath, held it…still holding…and exhaled. A thick stream of pearlescent smoke billowed into the air, shimmering faintly as it collected around us, becoming a veil no dragon could penetrate. A skill only few of us possessed.
“The dragon version of a cloaking device,” he said. And did I hear a touch of admiration in his voice?
“Your vision will be limited,” I warned. “Jump after me. Do not hesitate.”
“Fine. By the way. I’m not gingerbread-trailing you,” he grumbled.
Maybe. Maybe not. I launched into the void.
Wind tore at my hair. My heart surged. I didn’t need to look back. I felt him follow, a shift in the current behind me. He’d jumped. He’d trusted me. I didn’t know how to feel about that.
With a powerful snap, I unfurled my smokewings. Wind and white mist erupted as my wings hardened. I caught the updraft and rose. A beat later, his weight joined mine in the airstream, his body flat against what looked to be a glittering cloud.
He didn’t scream. Didn’t even grunt. Was he paralyzed with fear?
I twisted into a glide, banking into the silver wash of moonlight, and angled so I could see him better. Taron rested comfortably. He kept a tight hold on the pack straps, his hair wild and wind-whipped. His pupils were blown, stunned, but not masking fear. A hint of a smile curled at his lips.
He enjoys this?
Despite the smoke, our gazes met but didn’t clash. Something sharp caught in my throat. He shouldn’t be able to make out my features, and yet, our eyes locked. A spark flared between us.
I tore my focus away and righted.
We flew in silence the rest of the distance, the only sound the whisper of my wings as the jagged silhouette of the Drachenhorn Mountain Range rose to meet us.
The temperature dropped, becoming frigid, turning my breaths to mist. I descended in a slow spiral, guiding Taron downward, letting him find his footing as we touched snow-packed ground.
I scanned the terrain. Black rock slick with clear ice. Gnarled trees heavy with razorleaves. The mineral scent of wet stone and ancient spruce lingered in the air. Shadows shifted in ways they shouldn’t. A chill threaded down my spine.
Something watched, and I had a pretty good idea what. I only hoped I was wrong.
In unison, Taron and I palmed weapons. We waited, pressed back-to-back, ready for battle, but nothing attacked.
“Dragons?” he asked softly.
“My people don’t live in this area. But frostwargs do.” Wolflike beasts whose saliva had the power to douse a dragon’s fire from the inside. What they’d do to a human, I didn’t know.
“I’ve battled frostwargs only once,” he admitted, “and I barely escaped with my life.”
When another couple of minutes passed without incident, we relaxed, but only slightly. “Just how often have you ventured into my land?” I demanded.
“Many,” he replied, a little smug.
I needed to learn his tricks so I could finally put a stop to them. Rather than admit that, I challenged him. “Prove you’ve got the skill to do this. Lead the expedition.”
“You mean teach you how I’ve done what I’ve done,” he said, almost smiling. “Fine. Let’s go.” He headed off in the correct direction.
Grumbling under my breath, I followed. So, yeah, he knew the layout of my land as well as my warehouse.
“Rather than invading my homeland,” I muttered, “you should have spent your time living your life. Falling in love. Enjoying your years.”
“Why would I risk falling in love, getting married, and having a son you will one day burn alive?” Bitterness dripped from his tone.