ELEVEN #2
Smoky turned, pinning her focus on Tsar. "You. With all the testosterone and posturing. Are you coming?"
"You gonna ride on my back, babe?"
Two.
Even if she wouldn't, he was coming. If for no other reason than the bragging rights he would use to get women into bed when we got back.
"Been dying to get into the outside world," another voice raised, someone I didn't know, young, but old enough.
Three.
"I don't have any small children," my mother declared, stepping forward.
"No, me," my father decided. "The girls still need you," he added, giving her a warm smile.
Four.
A trio of chest-puffing young men were next.
Seven.
"Eh, fuck it, sounds like fun," a woman declared, stepping forward, her fire-red hair making me momentarily wonder how I had missed her before. Younger than me, surely, but definitely old enough.
Tsar's eyes lit up, making it clear there was at least one woman in the clan who had resisted his charms.
Eight.
"Could use a story to tell my grandkids," an older man decided, shrugging as he stepped forward.
Nine.
With me, ten.
Ten dragons storming the Dark Court.
We could block out the sky.
It would be just the distraction we needed.
"Cowardly lot," Smoky decided quietly, just loudly enough for me and Sal to hear.
"They're used to their ways," Sal defended them.
"Shit excuse," she stubbornly declared.
"When do we leave?" the redhead asked, moving closer, the orange in her brown eyes bright with the idea of the Change.
"Raisa here wants to know if she has enough time to do a bikini trimming before everyone gets to see her goodies," Tsar declared.
Raisa's brow rose, her chin lifting, not the least bit embarrassed by Tsar's declaration. "Tsar has clearly failed in his attempts to bed me, otherwise he'd know that my goodies are always in perfect order."
"I like you," Smoky declared, nodding. "If I have to ride with anyone, I'd prefer you."
"Come on. Taking the only chick," Sal declared, shaking his head. "You really don't want other women touching me, do you babe?"
Smoky's eyes slitted as he grinned, knowing he had her.
"Take her. I'll ride with him," she decided, linking her arm with Tsar.
"Do we go now?" One of the kids asked.
"Yes."
"You're going to have to lead the way, son," my dad told us. "None of us have been to the Dark Court. And we need to know the plan."
"Massive distraction," Smoky declared. "Just enough so that Drake can locate Amy, and get her out of there."
"Can we burn things?" another of the kids asked.
"Just not fae," Kieran specified. "We can go and create havoc, but we do not kill. We don't need the weight of the whole Dark Court on our backs. Just fly through, set a tree or cart or two on fire, and get out of there."
"Got it," Tsar declared.
"We go now?" my father asked even as the young guys started stripping out of their clothes casually. Because the Change was natural, common, nothing to be embarrassed about.
For them.
It had been so long for me.
I was half worried I wouldn't even know how to do it anymore.
"It will come back to you," Kieran told me, voice low. "The Change," he clarified. "I know you have been fighting it all this time. But it will come."
Uncertainty flooded my system as I watched the guys crack their necks, then fall forward toward the ground as the plates erupted from their skin seamlessly, overtaking them completely as their forms twisted, contorted, became something else entirely, beasts large enough to overshadow all the houses, twice as wide, three times as long, in brilliant, blinding colors.
Green, blue, gray, brown, purple. There was a flash of orange and then Raisa was in Draca form, sending a look over her shoulder at Tsar who was still slowly removing his clothes.
"Ah, I get it now," Smoky declared, nodding her head as Kieran suddenly burst into form, a striking silver with blue - the only one of our kind who was multi-colored in Draca form.
"Get what?" Sal asked, head cocked to the side, trying not to seem impressed although it was impossible not to be. Hell, even I was. And I was one of them.
"The eye thing."
"what eye thing?"
"Those flecks in their eyes," she started, nodding at those around her. "They match the color of their dragon. Which means you are going to be red," she declared, nodding with certainty at me.
A memory of the red-capped gnome flashed before my eyes, knowing my Draca color because the knobby old thing had likely been around back when we had flown freely, when our secrets weren't secrets.
"Yeah," I agreed, reaching to start removing my coat, reminding myself of how many times I had done this in the past, how it had never been a problem before.
My body would remember.
Kieran's tail whipped the back of one of my legs, spurring me on, reassuring me.
"Amy's waiting," Smoky told me, chin defiantly lifted, almost daring me to Change.
And, well, she was the only one using the right ammunition, the type strong enough to pierce through my insecurity.
Amy.
This was the only way to save Amy.
I could feel the buzzing sensation on my skin, a prickling that grew stronger, that forced my body forward, my hands hitting the dirt even as I felt the plates start breaking through my skin, achy like unused muscles, but doing what they were designed to do regardless.
I felt the stretch as my body elongated, widened, became what it always was underneath it all.
And with one last surge of energy, every last bit of my fae form was gone.
Draca.
Something deep within me thrilled at the word, at the realization of my true form, at the power to be found in my talons, in my teeth, in the impenetrable plates covering me. In the heat that burned a literal fire deep inside.
"Shit," Sal said, nodding as my head swiveled to find him watching me. A Changing fae himself, he shouldn't have been impressed, but it wasn't every day that you saw a myth come to life.
My foot pounded the ground as a roar erupted from me, heat - but no fire - filling the air around me.
There were no words.
Not in Draca form.
Just feelings and connections.
My tribe could sense my intentions.
But Sal and Smoky were in the dark.
My head whacked into the side of Raisa, swinging to indicate Sal.
As she bent low for him, Tsar moved to Smoky's side as well, bending low, letting her climb on, tentatively grabbing the larger plates covering his shoulders, digging in when he started to run.
Confident she was in good hands, that Tsar would take care of her, and Raisa Sal, I charged ahead of them all at a run that thundered the ground, made small babes fall on their diapered bums, clapping and squealing with joy.
It wasn't until we neared the veil that the urge overtook me, my wings starting to rustle against my back, begging to be stretched.
There was a momentary surge of uncertainty that I would be able to fly before I simply... did.
We burst through the veil as a flock instead of a pack, all of us swooping up at a steep incline to rise up over the trees, something that made Smoky shriek and Sal let out a string of panicked curses, making me crane my neck back to make sure they had a good grip, only to find Smoky had hooked her legs under Tsar's wings for stability, and Raisa's tail had curled up to clamp over Sal's back.
Safe.
If they survived the ascent, they were as secure as they could possibly be.
I didn't know how long it had been since I had flown, had never had an occasion to fly from my homelands to the Dark Court before, so I didn't know how long it would take.
But I did know that it would take about half the time it would take us on foot, that our massive wingspans allowed us to cover more ground per minute than even a dead run could in fae form.
The Draca part of me was battling for dominance, longing to feel all the wonders of the Change that had been denied for so long.
The way the wind rushed over my plates like a warm, sweet caress, the way flying closer to the sun warmed me from the outside in, the way my eyes could see so much clearer, so much further, the way my hearing was so acute that I could hear the gnomes burrowing in the ground, could eavesdrop on conversations from a mile away.
But the other part of me reigned supreme, pushed all that aside. Or, more accurately, used that information in a way that was focused, useful.
In finding Amy.
I would be able, even before the castle came into view, to hear the conversations going on inside, sifting through them, trying to find the soft lilt of Amy's voice if she was speaking. If she was allowed to speak.
My stomach twisted at all the atrocious possibilities, the fates that could await her.
Panic would do me no good, so I tried to think of other things.
Like how Jet had tried to save her, even if it was maybe for his own advancement.
Maybe he could find some kindness in his heart. To save her again. Or, at least, to prevent the worst kinds of harm from happening.
Maybe there would still be a marriage plan.
Sickening, atrocious, horrifying for Amy. But also a way to ensure she wouldn't be down in the dungeons being prodded with iron rods too.
And she hadn't been gone that long. Even if Cass' plan was still to force that marriage, it wasn't likely it had happened yet.
And I was pretty sure all Courts did away with the antiquated ritual of having their consummation rights watched by all who may choose to see.
From what Amy had said of Jet, he had no interest in bedding her.
So maybe she would be saved that injustice.
Maybe she would be able to sit in a room and simply wait for her rescue.
Maybe she wasn't hurt or humiliated.
I could only hope.
The road to putting this behind us would be easier to travel if her fate was tied in with the marriage plan still.
My gaze lifted, looking over toward Smoky who was glancing my way, trying to get my attention. Seeing my eyes, she hooked her legs tighter, allowing her to lift an arm, hold it out, point.
To the right.
Where the Dark Court was.
I had a vague understanding of its location, but Smoky clearly knew more than I did, unsurprisingly.