Chapter 11 #2
She closed her eyes and leaned into the melody, allowing it to sing out as it had never sung out before.
Only a rare few had ever heard even one or two bars of the slow, emotional ballad that had made itself known to her so many years ago.
As so often happened, her breathing and the beat of her heart settled into the same steady tempo, matching the pacing of the heartfelt notes as they found their wings and soared.
Without even realizing it, she swayed and danced along with the lilting river of music, completely lost in the sound.
When Magnus caught hold of her waist and halted her, she poured even more emotion into the song of her soul.
Eyes still closed, she saw the same thing she always saw when playing this tune: a soothing blue-white light filled her field of vision, making her feel as though the notes carried her across the perfection of a cloudless sky.
The music begged her to play louder, gently increase the tempo, pour more joy and hope into the tune.
So she did, unable to keep from smiling as the melody took on a life all its own.
She was simply the vessel it had chosen.
Then, with the same gentle nudge as before, the song told her it was time to slow down, taper off, and introduce a final air of serenity, a caress of peacefulness, a sigh of relief.
Again, she listened to the will of the music, breathing easier with a firm knowing that all was right and true, just as it should be.
She opened her eyes to find no one in the torchlit space. The crowds had gone. No one remained but herself and Magnus—and he had taken a knee at her feet, kneeling there with his head bowed. “Magnus?”
Ever so slowly, he looked up at her. The unusual shade of his liquid silver eyes once again glowed with a golden light. He didn’t speak, just stared at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher, nor could she read the storm of emotions in his face.
Her heart fell, making her drop to her knees along with him and set the violin on the ground. She took hold of both his hands. “I’m so sorry it didn’t work. Please forgive me.”
He barely shook his head. “Nay, my precious love,” he whispered, “ye dinna understand.” He shuddered, then rained kisses across the backs of her hands.
“All have awakened. Dragonkind. Humankind. All who the sickness took down before their time have awakened and left the tombs. Only those who naturally reached the end of this life’s journey remain in the catacombs—as they should.
” His voice cracked, rasping with a rough hoarseness that made him even dearer to her.
“We’ve but to gather those out of the range of the song and bring them to ye for healing.
” He kissed her hands again and held them pressed to his lips, then hugged them to his cheek.
“The curse must surely be broken. The music possessed the might of a warrior’s heartbeat, a strength all its own.
The fortress fair shook with it.” Then he went quiet, straightened, and turned his head toward what she assumed was the exit. “Listen,” he whispered.
She strained to hear whatever it was that had caused him to pause. “All I hear are wind chimes. A lot of them.” The air teemed with the happy, tinkling sound of crystals dancing in the breeze.
“Exactly.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard, then tore his mouth from hers and smiled down at her. “The curse silenced the tower chimes that sang out to all of dragonkind. Ye returned their voice to them. The curse is no more.”
An overwhelming sense of thankfulness and relief bowled her over, pushing her from her knees to a crumpled heap of uncontrollable sobbing.
She’d been so afraid she would fail, and she hadn’t.
The music in her heart, the song of her soul that had no words, had been enough. Her inability to sing hadn’t mattered.
Magnus pulled her into his arms, cradling her as if she were a distraught child. He gently rocked, stroking her hair and quietly shushing her. “Lyla—why do ye weep, my own? All is well. All is as it should be.”
“It’s over,” she said through a hiccupping gasp, unable to share the complete joy she’d not felt in so very long. “It’s over now.”
He stiffened, but his arms tightened around her. “Ye canna leave me. Not now. Surely, ye canna deny the magic of our belonging to one another.” He tipped her face up to his. “I beg ye—”
She shook her head, sniffling and gulping, fighting to get a grip on her emotions so she could speak.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said in a raspy, broken whisper.
Her damn voice always failed her worse whenever she cried.
But she had to make him know she hadn’t meant that she was ready to run away from him as fast as she could.
In a sudden moment of clarity, a startling realization hit her.
She wasn’t ready to run from him as fast as she could.
She didn’t want to run from him at all. The thought of never seeing him again, never looking into his eyes or hearing his voice—she hitched in a deep breath to keep from melting into another sobbing, emotional mess.
“I meant I was overjoyed that the curse is over.” She barely shook her head, unable to put her insecurities, her disbelief into words.
She patted the base of her throat, straining to croak out a few more words.
Her voice was nearly gone. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be enough. ”
With a rumbling groan, he gathered her close once more. Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he whispered, his voice husky and almost trembling, “Ye will always be enough, my love. Always.”
Tucking her arms to her chest, she curled into him, nestling against him, unable to imagine ever being without him. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. It defied logic. She’d only just met this man, but felt as though she’d known him for a thousand years—maybe even longer.
“We must get ye to warmth. Ye’re freezing.” He rose, cradling her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “Percival! Merriweather!” No answer came. Magnus snorted. “Feckin’ hell, where the devil did those two go?” He sucked in a deep breath, then roared, “Percival! Merriweather!”
Lyla uncovered her ears and patted him on the chest. “I can walk,” she mouthed.
With a stern look that only made him more handsome, he shook his head.
“No. Ye cannot. Yer voice is gone, and I fear expending that much magic has endangered ye.” He hitched her higher in his arms. “Besides, I enjoy the feel of ye against my chest.” He tipped his chin higher, greeting someone off to the left, out of her line of sight.
“Brother. ’Tis high time ye came down from yer lair.
Allow me to introduce Lady Lyla Ibrams properly this time.
” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “My love, this is my brother, my soul kin, Talon Darkmist.”
Lyla caught her bottom lip between her teeth to keep her mouth from hanging ajar.
This dragon before her, the one Magnus called brother and soul kin, was the largest dragon she’d met so far.
Enormous and his scales an iridescent blue-black shade that reminded her of the glossy feathers of a raven, the beast barely tilted his multi-horned head in a graceful nod.
“Welcome to the Thirteenth Realm, Divine One.” His voice rumbled with a deep resonance that echoed through the tunnels.
Her arms still tightly around Magnus’s neck, she offered a polite nod in return and whispered, “An honor to meet you.” She tried to clear her throat and flinched. “Sorry. Voice gone.”
He resettled his massive, leathery wings along the ridges of the wide, horned fins that ran down his spine.
“Think nothing of it, Divine One. Such strong magic can be quite draining.” He tipped his bearded muzzle higher.
“The Twanes have already started drinking,” he told Magnus.
“Ye know they are always the first to join a celebration.” He barely turned and cast a glance behind him.
“But Talia, Albionna, and Martha have come. Yer bellow for the Twanes alarmed Inuk, and he sent them.”
Martha scurried forward, wringing her hands. “What can I fetch ye, my lady. Pray tell, what do ye need?”
Unfortunately, the only thing that would help her voice was time and perhaps a hot beverage. Lyla waved the fussing maid away while whispering, “When we get back to my room, coffee would be nice.”
The maid curtsied and left the tombs, running as though chased by the hounds of hell.
Slightly self-conscious about still being in Magnus’s arms, she patted his chest, then pointed at the floor. “You can put me down now. Really.”
He shook his head and held her tighter.
Albionna stepped forward and curtsied. “Divine One, allow me to introduce my mistress, Talia Darkmist.”
“Forgive me,” Talon said with a gruff clearing of his throat. “Talia is my beloved mate. I would be lost without her.”
The smaller, albeit still quite large dragon, came forward. “Welcome home, Divine One, and thank ye for the magic of life that ye brought with ye.”
Lyla tried to speak, but nothing came out, so she gave an apologetic shake of her head.
She’d never been this fussed over in all her life and wasn’t really certain she liked it.
Even when she’d packed music halls with adoring fans, she’d always kept pretty much to herself and never asked for any special treatment.
“Tears await to restore yer lady, and Tern has seen to it that yer rooms are fully refreshed,” Talia told Magnus. She pointed a claw at the violin resting on the floor. “Albionna, please bring along the Divine One’s music creator. ”
“I have advised Inuk to make the Twanes know I am not pleased with them,” Magnus told Lyla. “Revelry should wait until all are taken care of.”