Thirteen
Calypso
By the time the elves left, Azulin was tenser than a fiddle string on the brink of snapping. He had wordsmithed to the point I finally understood he wished me to tell the elves something, but by that point the elves needed to leave. Besides, I couldn’t figure out what Azulin wanted me to say.
“I will return soon to check on you. Send word if anything changes,” Illeron requested with a formal bow as they prepared to take their leave. “Take care, my lady. The pair of you have a rough journey ahead by the looks of it.”
Casimir merely bowed to both of us, caught Illeron’s elbow, and pulled the two of them through a shadow.
I shivered at the sight. “What is it like, walking through shadows?”
“It is called wraithwalking.” Azulin collapsed into the chair behind his desk once more and scrubbed his face with his palms. “I don’t know what the experience is like. Never needed to do it.”
“Sire.” Ghost approached. “The dragon representative is here.”
Azulin groaned.
“What do they want?” I asked.
“Me,” Ghost responded. The growly tone in his voice resonated through the floor, making my feet tingle. He eyed Azulin.
“It is your story to tell.” The fae king spoke without uncovering his face.
A tap at the door made both males tense.
“Perhaps later,” Ghost said before turning away to rest his massive paw of a hand against the door. Whether to hold it closed or in preparation for opening it, I wasn’t sure. “Ready, sire?”
Azulin rose from his chair and came around to the front of the desk. Straightening his clothing, he composed his features. However, his outward fa?ade of calm didn’t fool me. The tension in him hadn’t eased a fraction, and the magic between us hiccupped uncomfortably.
“I recommend you stay as unobtrusive as possible,” he advised me. “Although dragons are dangerously powerful, both politically and physically, they can be awfully touchy about humans.”
Ghost snorted. “Comes from decades of being offered human sacrifices we had no interest in. And what were we supposed to do with those who didn’t just perish from fright upon our appearance? Make them pets? Shameful wastes of life, every one of them. We are wary of species who do not value their own.”
I moved back to the corner near the couch. I could recall the myths about humans attempting to placate the frighteningly larger species long before we understood they were sentient. We didn’t understand their dual forms until much later.
At a nod from Azulin, Ghost opened the door.
A hazy cloud of smoke rolled into the room ahead of Soren, and a massive male of similar stature and breadth to Ghost entered. But that was where the similarity ended. His head and beard were dark auburn, and this dragon’s strange golden eyes glowed with barely contained intensity. Soren followed the representative inside with agitated haste before Ghost could close the door on him.
“Sire, I must protest.” Soren bowed to Azulin. “This dragon insists he will meet with Ghost alone.”
“Ghost has requested my presence,” Azulin replied, addressing the dragon, not his secretary.
“I come to speak dragon-to-dragon with the son of Grimdaw the Daring on dragon business.” The dragon growled, his nostrils flaring. A grimace contorted his features, as though the scent of the occupants in the room offended his nose. “My words are not for the ears of anyone beyond him.”
“You are dismissed, Soren,” Azulin informed his secretary without even glancing his way.
“But, sire—”
Azulin didn’t even blink. “Your objections have been noted.”
“Yes, sire.” Soren bowed sharply and left, closing the door behind him.
“You and the female too,” the dragon demanded.
Ghost growled from near the door. “They stay.”
“My message is for dragons only.” The strange dragon swung around to confront Ghost. “By what right do you demand their presence?”
Ghost glared at him unflinchingly. “The right of fire and blood.”
The unnamed dragon snorted in derision. The smoke in the room thickened. This time, the scent was subtly different from before. Did each dragon’s smoke smell different? Or did it change with a shifter’s emotions? I would have to ask Ghost about it later.
“Impossible. Delicate fae can’t survive the tests required for such a bond, and puny humans faint at the sight of us.” He bared his teeth at me in a snarl.
I regarded him calmly.
Azulin casually stepped between the dragon and me, blocking his line of sight.
The dragon laughed before turning away from us to face Ghost once more. “Besides, their tender flesh melts when exposed to fire. There is no way that sweet morsel endured the testing.”
The vine on my arm twisted and tightened as it warmed. Azulin fisted and released his marked hand, spreading his fingers wide, as though trying to work out some of the tension in his arm. Stepping closer, I caught the back of his sleeve, hoping my closeness would calm our bond. My tattoo instantly relaxed. Azulin didn’t move away, which I took as a good sign.
Azulin spoke. “I am Ghost’s clutch mate by blood and fire. He owes me his life, and as such, I have a say in any draconic business concerning him.”
The dragon grinned aggressively as he stalked across the room to loom over Azulin. “So, he is your slave.”
“Brother,” Azulin responded as calmly as if he were discussing the weather.
The dragon’s nostrils flared, blowing curls of smoke in Azulin’s face.
I dared not lift my head a second time, standing as I was behind Azulin’s left shoulder. My eyes and lungs burned in the smoky heat of the dragon’s breath. Azulin didn’t even cough as he stared the larger male down coolly. “Would you care to take a seat and discuss this like civilized beings?”
“The human woman? Surely she cannot claim the same as you.”
“She is my mate. Where I go, she goes. You should know what that means since you have a mate yourself.” Azulin motioned toward the medallion hanging from the dragon’s neck.
Ghost cleared his throat. “Now that we have established that we all have a right to be in this conversation, you best get to the point. What news do you bring, fire breather?”
The dragon swung around and huffed at Ghost. “I am not satisfied, but it appears I am overruled, seeing as he is supposedly your clutch mate by the ancient bindings.” He stalked to another position so he could face us all. “Now that the old king, Firebeater of Azuz, has died, his successor, Kloutraker of Skyward, is summoning all dragons to the homeland to make an accounting of themselves before him. As sole remaining heir of the Dawnstriker bloodline, those sworn to the draconic throne since time immemorial, you have a duty to your king.”
“He is not my king,” Ghost responded.
“But Kloutraker claimed the throne and holds it uncontested. You owe him loyalty.”
Ghost glared at the dragon. “I owe him nothing.”
“He is king of the dragons.” The dragon’s voice rose in volume.
“Not my king,” Ghost said again. “I owe him nothing, just like I owed Firebeater nothing. The dragons betrayed me and turned their backs on me before I was born. Firebeater falsely convicted my father of treason shortly after I was conceived. Then he ordered my mother hunted down and executed in hopes of wiping out my line. I survived only because my mother had the foresight to foster me before the dragon hunt reached its inevitable culmination with her death. I was told they held a vast celebration in the dragon hall and drank to my mother’s downfall for three nights after she perished, the last of the pureblooded females. No! I hold no dragon as my king.”
As Ghost spoke, the stranger dragon deflated slightly. He didn’t deny the words. In the silence following the grim tale, he responded, “Those years are a blemish upon us, stripling. Still, dragons belong with dragons.”
“Nay,” Ghost replied sharply. “Family belongs with family. My king is family. And above all, I trust him.”
“Do you deny your dragonhood?”
Ghost shook his head. “I am a dragon. I do not deny that. However, being a dragon does not mean I cannot call a fae or a shifter family. That is my choice. I refuse to be dictated to by a dragon I neither know nor trust.”
The dragon’s golden eyes studied Ghost for a long moment, as though debating the best way to sway him. Then he suddenly turned away. “You’re as stubborn as your father before you. Implacable when determined.”
“I am when I know I am right,” Ghost responded.
“Maker have mercy, you are far more principled than I.” The dragon stalked to the door. “I will see that Kloutraker receives your response. Do not be surprised if repercussions result.” He glanced back at Azulin. “I hope you are prepared to defend the traitor in your midst, fae king.”
“To the death,” Azulin answered without hesitation.
The dragon blew a great cloud of smoke, completely filling the room, before he turned and stalked out.
∞∞∞
Azulin
Four days later, I was beginning to question my sanity. I couldn’t sleep. The curse didn’t pull me back into the labyrinth. Instead, it clawed at me relentlessly, making my bones ache, driving headaches through my skull, and draining all my focus and concentration. On top of that, my list of tasks kept growing, and my companion kept distracting me.
Not that Calypso wasn’t a pleasant companion. She was. I enjoyed her company. Easily contented, she spent hours reading in my study while I worked. She never complained about the long hours I kept, the meals caught on the run as I strode between meetings, or my occasional requests that she attend certain meetings in her feline form to avoid dealing with my visitors’ sensitivity to humans.
But as wonderfully understanding as she was, I began to wonder if she was too charming and accommodating. Especially when I settled in my office to catch up on the never-ending avalanche of paperwork and administrative tasks. Between the moment I sat down and my fifth signature, four different servants filed past my desk to speak with her.
Soren glared at each one, apparently intent they should know of his great displeasure at their invasion of my privacy. To a one, the servants ignored him—and me, for that matter.
“My lady, the cook wishes to have your opinion on the lunch menu.” A very young fairy—her fifth visitor—offered Calypso a thick paper card covered in the cook’s scrawl.
“Would your cat prefer roast chicken or tuna today?” a brownie asked a few moments later. Someone had started a rumor that the cat was hers and not mine, though for obvious reasons the rumor made no sense. She and the cat were never observed together. Yet it was always seen with me.
I rolled my eyes as I bent over a purchase contract for cloth. However, the paper beneath my pen reminded me of something.
“Lady Anon?” I turned to find the brownie and fairy bowing to Calypso as they backed away toward the door.
I watched them go with surprise. Somehow the servants had caught on that she ranked just under me in the court, while everyone else either ignored her or actively sneered at her. The vicious gossip reached my ears, and not even Ghost’s usual intimidating tactics had slowed the vindictive slights happening behind my back. And I hadn’t even presented her to the court yet.
“Yes?” Calypso regarded me, concern darkening her eyes to a stormy gray.
“I was wondering if you would be willing to work with a tailor and select a wardrobe to suit your new role?”
To my complete surprise, she brightened. “Oh, yes. It would be wonderful to have some options.” She hesitated and frowned. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you have already given me.”
She fingered the beading on the gray gown she wore. I loved the color on her because it complemented her eyes perfectly.
“It just isn’t something I would choose,” she admitted. The way she cut herself off made me suspect there was more to it, but I would not press with Soren in the audience. And then she lowered her gaze to her lap, which confirmed it. I had been learning to read her expressions and body language over the last few days. She was hiding something.
“Sire, you need to finish signing the purchase contracts before your next appointment.” Soren rustled something on my desk, but I ignored him.
“Is there something else I’m forgetting?” I asked Calypso.
Soren huffed. The vine on my arm burned, and I was tempted to turn around and attack my secretary, but I resisted the urge. Over the past few days, I had also been suppressing many such overwhelming desires that surged through me at odd moments because someone slighted or outright threatened Calypso.
“Not now,” she whispered, glancing up at me. Her gaze flicked to Soren. “I am sorry to distract you.”
Soren cleared his throat and coughed as though something had stuck in his throat.
Realizing Soren had probably glared at her again when my back turned, I muscled down a truly aggressive desire.
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of Calypso’s next admirer. Ghost entered right behind the young gnome, who kept his head down as he headed straight toward Calypso’s corner.
Ghost grunted. “Best acknowledge your king first, lad, lest he feel slighted.”
The gnome halted and swung about to face me, his blanched features a stark contrast to the brown hair curling beneath his hat. “My apologies, sire.” He performed a deep bow.
I smiled at his earnestness before I waved him off to greet Calypso. With a sigh, I returned to my work.
Ghost bowed to me. “The pooka is here,” he murmured with a surreptitious glance at Calypso.
“Really?” I dropped the page I had been reading.
“You don’t have time for more interruptions, sire,” Soren rushed to tell me, adding Ghost to the list of people he tried to spear with his glares.
I tried to calm the urge to snap.
Ghost continued in his lowered tone. “I informed the pooka of your tight schedule and overwhelming workload. He hasn’t come to visit you.”
My head snapped up, and I met my enforcer’s perturbed expression. “Lady Anon?” I asked.
Ghost barely nodded before I ordered, “Soren, clear my desk and leave. We will deal with the rest after my meeting with the Councilor Grizzlemunch.”
Ghost moved around my affronted secretary to speak with the gnome. A few words from the dragon and the gnome was hastily bidding Calypso farewell.
“But, sire.” Soren’s mouth pursed in disapproval.
I rose to my full height and gave Soren a haughty stare. “Something has come up. I will speak to you after Grizzlemunch.”
Soren bowed his head, but not before I caught his expression of deep displeasure. He snatched the page I had been reading off the desk and stalked out of the room with his stack of documents. Ghost followed him and the retreating gnome to the door and closed it behind them. Leaning his back against the door, he motioned toward one of the windows.
A great flapping of wings and a heavy thump outside the second-floor window signaled the arrival of one of the gargoyle twins and our unexpected guest.
“Is that the pooka?” Calypso approached me, catching my sleeve.
“So Ghost says.” Reaching back, I caught her vined hand with mine, interlacing our fingers. The magic vine warmed, rippling happily, and a wonderful sense of calm settled over me.
The window sprang open and the pooka practically fell through the opening. Grim followed him inside, cloaking his wings as he cleared the casing. Gargoyles tended to be human-shaped—on a larger scale—but not as large as dragons in their human form. Their gray-toned skin and massive shoulders made them stand out from most other species.
“Sire, my lady.” Grim bowed to each of us.
“Wow!” The pooka staggered a bit on his two feet. “I thought flight would be less—”
“Consider your words, horse.” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest. “Grim is your ride out of here as well.”
The pooka drew his head back as though offended. “I would not say anything derogatory. I’m merely comparing experience with expectation.” He shook himself and then turned toward us. “Your Majesty, Callie!” he declared with a broad grin. “So long no see.” Then he executed an elaborate court bow to each of us. “I heard you had need of me.”
“More like so long no annoy,” I muttered as Calypso let go of my hand to step forward and greet him.
“No touching!” he said sharply, taking a step back with his hands up. “I can see you two haven’t done the logical thing yet, and I don’t have a death wish.”
Calypso’s brows drew together. “Sorry, I forgot.” Then she eyed him quizzically. “What do you mean the logical thing?”
“You two haven’t completed the bond.” The pooka peered back and forth between us. “You didn’t explain it to her yet?” he asked me.
“I haven’t had time.”
“Why prolong both your suffering?”
His flippant attitude annoyed me. “Because I am not about to trap her without discussing it first, and I haven’t had time,” I snapped, rubbing my forehead. Pressure was building behind my eyes, the first sign of my daily headache.
“Explain what?” Calypso demanded, standing between us, her fists on her hips and her attention flicking from the pooka’s face to mine and back. Annoyance flared in her eyes, turning them pale and almost glowing. Her magic gathered around her, and mine eagerly responded, apparently delighted in her emotional response.
Closing my eyes, I wrestled my magic down. “Remember when the pooka said we were magically bound, and it was irreversible?”
“Yes? It is a fae mating bond.”
I nodded and opened my eyes and gazed down into her adorably trusting features. “It is having increasingly difficult side effects upon me.”
The pooka groaned. “Just spit it out. You two need to complete the bond before he goes mad with pain. I suspect the jealous tendencies and insomnia have already appeared.” He peered at me. “How many nights has it been since you slept?”
Both Ghost and Calypso turned to regard me expectantly.
“Since the night in the labyrinth,” I finally admitted. “But I don’t want to rush her into such a commitment.”
“Too late.” The pooka stepped back and peered at the air between us before rolling his eyes. “I suggest you discuss it because that binding will play havoc with your head in earnest soon, Your Majesty. Then where will your kingdom be? Not to mention your lovely lady here. Even if she doesn’t want you for a husband, I’m certain she wishes even less for a half-crazed fae out of his mind with pain as a lifelong companion instead.”
I closed my eyes again. The better to concentrate despite the growing ache in my head.
“How would we complete the bond?” Calypso asked.