Chapter 7 #2
She folded the sketchbook closed. “The prisoners know we’re coming.
This is largely their plan, and they’ll be ready.
I’m merely the messenger.” Avelunne blew out a breath through thinned lips.
“I must warn you that the demesne heavily suppresses unauthorized magic, and subverts and distorts what it can’t suppress.
The inside smells like a fly-ridden public latrine in the summer.
Some shifters never get used to the stench.
The tunnels and pens are made of a moist flesh that absorbs waste for powering demesne magic.
Hitting, stabbing, or carving has no lasting effect.
The walls can fully absorb a corpse in a few hours.
The floor is like walking on slimy pillows.
Lighting is poor everywhere except for in the laboratories where Tippizoars and the keepers live.
” Her head dropped, then raised again. “Two more points. First, the demesne has a universal translator spell, so you’ll understand all spoken words, but once you escape, not everyone speaks the same language.
Second, you already know that demesne magic rules will force you into human form.
But wearing any clothing will mark you immediately as out of place, though they might mistake you for new captives who got loose from the intake section in the laboratory hub. ”
Tanner glanced at Rumnaan. Non-shifters weren’t always comfortable with casual nudity. Fortunately, the fairy didn’t seem bothered.
“Any more questions?” He made a point to catch everyone’s eye, but no one spoke.
“Okay, then. Tinsel will lead you three to the Glade. Avelunne and I will head back to the Transition Center. We’ll let you know when we’re about to fly.
Once we reach the shield, I’ll send the signal so you can get set. ”
Avelunne clutched her sketchbook to her chest. “Thank you all for this. I am only free because of my friends still in captivity. Rescuing them means more than I can say.”
“Surasa,” said Keteng, her eyes dark and dangerous, “has much to answer for. This is a good start.”
Avelunne’s room still had all the trappings of its former life as an outdated motel room — double bed with a faded navy bedspread, faux-wood nightstand and dresser, brown carpet, and rust-stained bathroom tile.
The only sign of occupancy was the half-dozen handmade paper sculptures made out of construction paper on the dresser.
To be fair, she’d arrived five days ago with not even the clothes on her back.
Tanner’s friends often called him a minimalist when it came to owning things, but Avelunne’s room made him seem like a clutter-bug by comparison.
Maybe not all dragons had hoarding instincts.
And maybe he should be getting ready for the mission instead of mooning over a certain dragon.
Tanner opened his pack. The gear had been quick-portaled directly into Avelunne’s room by Tinsel earlier.
He pushed aside the clothing he wouldn’t be needing and pulled out the magic-infused charms that he would.
They were bespelled to stay with him regardless of form.
Unfortunately, his guns and knives weren’t, so he’d either have to leave them behind or chance losing them if the demesne’s force-change magic took him unaware.
Native thunderbird magic let him keep his clothes when shifting, but it was probably safer to assume the demesne suppressed all unauthorized magic, or prisoners wouldn’t have stayed captive for long.
Through the open door, he saw Avelunne in the hallway.
She’d been visiting rooms occupied by refugee kids.
He watched now as she knelt on the worn carpet and gave each of the three children a different paper cutout shape, then gave them their own marked-up paper and instructions on how to fold and where to cut to create one for themselves.
“Are these going-away presents?” asked a smaller girl with braids, her expression stricken.
“Not at all,” Avelunne said firmly. “They are solstice gifts.”
He’d always liked the idea of having children one day, but the requirements of his job and his perpetual solitary state had always pushed the dream aside. Seeing her speak kindly to them and listen respectfully made it seem… possible.
He remembered she’d called herself unreliable and flighty.
Yet here she was, minutes before a trip back to her personal hell, giving children she’d only met a few days ago something to hold onto.
The disconnect between her self-image and her actions tugged at something deep in him, right alongside the visceral memory of the heady scent of her when he’d barely managed to stop himself from kissing her in the courtyard.
None of which were appropriate thoughts before battle. He repacked his gear, then pulled out a smaller bag for his clothes to leave in the courtyard when he was ready.
He stepped into the common room to wait for Avelunne. The front doors opened to admit a gust of wind and, surprisingly, Tiziri Selah. The sand dragon shifter looked around, then made a beeline for him once she saw him.
“Sheriff. Tinsel said you’d be here.” She stepped closer. “I wanted to apologize for not joining the, uh, dance.”
He appreciated her discretion, considering the four little pairs of ears with shifter-sharp hearing. Just because they were playing a noisy chase game didn’t mean they weren’t listening. “No worries. I understand.”
Tiziri shook her head. “Wolcz and Trolhorne don’t speak for me.
I believe Avelunne’s intel. I didn’t volunteer because I’m pregnant.
I can’t fly that high right now.” She snorted.
“As it is, Bolad — he’s my mate — has a meltdown if I so much as lift a newborn lamb on the farm.
Volunteering to use my milit…, uh, ballet training would give him a heart attack. ”
“Bolad Jalandir?” Tanner recalled having met the environmentalist once or twice. “Wolf shifters go a little crazy around babies.” His mind stalled for a moment when he realized the implications. “Forgive my ignorance, but are dragons and wolf shifters, uh, biologically compatible?”
Tiziri laughed. “Very diplomatic phrasing. Southern dragon females like me can produce offspring with anyone we choose. Part of our magic. Bolad’s and my child will likely be a wolf shifter with extra gifts.
” She waved to Avelunne and beckoned her to come closer.
“I wanted to tell you that you’re doing a good thing.
I’d go with you if I could, but my dance card is full right now. ”
“Thank you.” Avelunne’s tone was tentative, as if she didn’t know what to make of Tiziri’s declaration.
“I’m mated to a wolf-shifter and carrying his baby. I was just telling Sheriff Tanner that we southern dragons can have children with anyone, but my kid will be a wolf, not a dragon.”
Avelunne’s expression softened into a genuine smile. “Congratulations.”
“That’s what Trolhorne and Wolcz are so incensed about.
” Tiziri’s eyes rolled. “Wolcz is obsessed with repopulating the ‘pure’ lines. Northern dragons can only mate and reproduce with other dragons, but they produce clutches of six to ten eggs. He thinks I’m wasting a perfectly good womb on a wolf shifter.
” She waved a dismissive hand. “Trolhorne is just his drama queen parrot.”
“Not all northern dragons are so limited.” Avelunne’s mouth twitched with humor. “Before they were cursed, my moonwing ancestors were known for out-species reproduction with true mates, especially if the offspring brought extra magic to a clutch.”
Tiziri laughed. “Prolific, too, were they? Bet that didn’t sit well with the less fertile northern clans like cave dragons.
No wonder moonwings had a bad reputation.
And easy to blame them for every bad event, such as the unexpected eruption of a dormant volcano.
” She made a rude sound. “Couldn’t possibly be that the arrogant High Court ignored all the natural warning signs because it didn’t fit their ‘we’re so special’ worldview. ”
Avelunne’s surprise turned to amusement. “Of course not. But to be honest, moonwings often deserved their sneakish, blackguard reputation.”
Tiziri shook her head. “I can’t believe Wolcz thinks any female will vote for him next year after that ‘waste of breeding capacity’ comment.” She made a rude sound. “He’s been reading too many human neo-pagan manosphere forums. They’re full of shit like that.”
A shadow crossed Avelunne’s expression. “Is he so obsessed that he would harm your offspring or mate in order to put your womb to better use?”
His inner thunderbird’s instant response to the perceived threat made the windowpanes vibrate with subsonic thunder. “He won’t touch either of you.”
Their startled looks made him realize he’d lost control. Drawing in a breath and letting out slowly helped him re-center. “I’ll tell my deputies to watch for trouble. We can add a patrol route past your farm if you’d like.”
Tiziri shook her head. “He wouldn’t dare. Bolad’s wolf pack would tear him apart if my sand-dragon cousin didn’t get to him first. But thank you.” She turned to Avelunne. “Bring them home,” she said, followed by more in a language Tanner didn’t recognize.
Avelunne nodded gravely. Tiziri put a fist to her chest, then gave a brief salute to Tanner before striding out the doors, leaving the room flushed with another draft of wind.
“What was that last bit?” Tanner asked.
“A quote from an ancient saga in Dragonic about how our kind got to this world. Something like, ‘One second of courage opened the gate and restored the crown.’” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “When do we leave?”
“Ten minutes, if you’re ready.” He tilted his chin toward the hall. “I want to give you something.”
In her room, he opened an outside flap pocket of his bag to withdraw a small flannel bag, which he handed to her. She poured its contents into her hand, then looked up at him.