Chapter 19
Messing with Mari is quickly becoming a favorite pastime.
Could I have been clearer about things? Sure, but what’s the fun in that?
Besides, I followed behind her, caught her before she hurt herself.
Not that she can die here. It’s one of the few dimensions one can visit without truly perishing.
She’d be sore for a few days, that’s all.
I probably should tell her.
“Hand here,” I say, pointing to an inconspicuous spot on the wall. She narrows her gaze, then hesitantly does what I said.
A doorway shimmers to life, large enough to accommodate most beings, including dragons. Her gasp is delayed, though I wonder if it’s more for dramatic effect than genuine surprise. I gesture for her to go first, and she raises a single eyebrow.
“You think I’m walking in there after the stunt you pulled? Nuh-uh. You go first.” She crosses her arms.
I grab her hand and yank her through. This time her gasp is real. I suppose I don’t know what it’s like to go through a magical doorway as a witch. The dragons have magic nothing else does. They protect their own with a fierceness I’ve rarely seen before.
“Why?” she whispers harshly. “That was fucking cold.”
“No one with ill intent can pass through either doorway, including other dragons. A millennium ago there was a rogue dragon who fancied himself king of them all. When he met resistance, he gained access to this world. Destroyed an entire clutch of eggs. It took a long time for them to regain what they lost.”
She’s quiet for a long time as we travel through the dark.
There’s just enough light for us not to trip into the cavern on either side of us.
I’d bet all the magic in my veins she hasn’t noticed yet.
Maybe her witch eyes can’t see. Or the dragons put in place a hallucination to make other beings feel better walking this narrow path.
“I doubt they’d agree,” she finally murmurs.
“What do you mean?”
“They wouldn’t be able to get back what was destroyed. The babies are forever lost to the rage of one. I would imagine the dragons who remember, if they’re still around, will always feel the sting of grief when thinking about what could have been.”
“I suppose so. Every dimension has tragedy. I imagine it’s much the same everywhere.”
She falls silent again, and I glance back at her. When her eyes meet mine, she pulls in a tight breath. “I don’t mean this to sound insensitive, but…demons have tragedies?”
I laugh, though there’s no humor in the sound.
“Yeah, we do. A long line of them. Mostly, we just get angry when confronted with it. Some, like the dragons, mourn. Some fight. Others wallow and hide. Demons? We get pissed. We go to war. We decimate and demolish without a second thought. Being around a demon when they’ve been wronged, or worse, someone they care for has?
Yeah, you don’t want to get in our way.”
“Protective assholes, got it,” she mutters, and I squeeze her hand.
Even if I get nowhere with her, at least she’ll know what she’s getting into the next time she encounters a demon.
The thought has the possessive beast within me rising.
I shove it down, not wanting to scare her.
Because if she saw my true form, snarling and foaming at the mouth, she’d run screaming toward the dragons.
She’d welcome Death through them regardless of their indifference to her.
Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to force their hand—paw?
I have no idea how to label their body parts.
I probably should have learned that when I was stationed here during my demon training.
“How much farther?” she asks, a slight whine to her tone.
“We could fly if you’d like to get there faster.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather not fly in pitch black. It was bad enough being thrown over your shoulder.”
I slow to a stop, still clutching her hand. “Wait. You can’t see anything? No lights at all?”
“Um, no? Am I supposed to?”
I hum, glancing around. The longer we walk, the brighter it’s become for me. The crevices bracketing our path aren’t as deep, the mountains beyond moving closer.
“Don’t know. I’m not sure a witch has ever been here.”
“Is that going to be a problem?” She attempts to pull away from me, and I grip her tighter.
“Dragons aren’t like what the humans think. They might look like some of the depictions, but they don’t really act like that.”
“Are we talking Dragonheart or Puff the Magic Dragon? Or like—”
“I don’t know what any of those are, Mari. They have a strict code of ethics.” I tug her along once more. “Oh, and they communicate through your mind.”
She makes a sound in the back of her throat. “They can read minds?”
“Didn’t say that. I say they communicate by…
speaking into your head. It’s awkward at first, but you get used to it.
You just have to think about what you want to say.
They won’t be privy to your secrets. They’re respectful like that.
” I don’t tell her they could read her mind if they want to.
They could break her completely. Dragons would never do that, though, but she doesn’t need another thing to worry about.
I turn sideways as a narrow passageway appears in front of us from the fog. I wonder if she can see it. She’ll be perfectly fine with her smaller frame. Some light must have filtered in for her since she’s tipping her head back instead of paying attention to the path in front of her.
“Mind your elbows,” I mutter.
She scowls, then holds her breath as we go through.
When we step out into a field of bright red flowers, she gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
I try to remember what it was like the first time I saw this sight.
It was so long ago, I can’t quite grasp the feeling.
Elation? Wonder? Awe? Probably all of those. They’re reflected on her face.
“How did…why…what are…”
“They’re lava flowers. You don’t have them topside, but they’re a lot like poppies, I suppose.
Except they grow when lava flows under them.
This area’s been like this for a long time.
” I want to give her as much time as I can to admire the view.
Except I don’t know how time is passing up there.
I probably should have had her text Percy just in case, but I didn’t want her to change her mind.
All I could think of was bringing her someplace she’d never been before.
Throughout this whole journey, she’s trusted me.
Sure, she freaked out when we flew. And she’s snapped at me several times.
I’m beginning to understand it’s a defense for her.
She’ll push me away before I can do it to her.
If I keep showing up—if I just stay—eventually she’ll accept I’m not leaving.
Until I do.
The thought hits me in the gut, and I drop her hand.
She doesn’t notice. She’s too busy trying to figure out if the flowers will burn her.
I could do this again and again if I get the same reaction from her.
There are so many places I’ve been, things I’ve seen and experienced, while she’s been barely anywhere. I could show her.
I cross my arms as my magic crackles across my skin. My emotions are a rollercoaster, rising and falling with each thought. Half-assing things with her won’t go over well. Plus, she has issues she’s dealing with. She needs help, not someone to fuck her. No matter how much I want to.
Swallowing hard, I reach for her. Even if I’m not going to actively pursue her, doesn’t mean I can’t touch her, hold her, flirt with her. If she gives any indication she wants me to back off, I can do that too.
“Mari, we have to get going. Time’s of the essence and all that,” I murmur softly.
She swings around, wonder still hanging in her eyes. “Huh? I thought…Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I wish I could let you stay here as long as you want, but time works differently in your world. I don’t want you to go missing.”
Her face screws up, and she glances away. I open my mouth to ask her what I said, to ask her what’s wrong. I snap it shut when she gazes out once more at the field of flowers.
“Okay, let’s go.” She marches along the perimeter in the wrong direction, then freezes. “Can we take a picture? Where’s my phone?”
She pats along her hips, and my mouth waters. When she gazes over her shoulder, my eyes snap up. No reason she needs to know I’m ogling her. Then again…No. Flirting, fine. Touching when necessary. Or when I get the urge. Ogling is off the table.
“I don’t have any pockets,” she snaps.
“Um, okay? I don’t think I do either. Do you really need pockets?”
“Always. A girl always needs pockets. We have so few joys in life, at least let us have that.”
I narrow my gaze. “Why do I get the feeling you’re fucking with me?”
She gives me a deadpan stare. “I never joke about pockets, sir.”
A shiver rolls down my spine. Nope. Not going to say anything about her calling me sir. I snap my fingers, adding pockets to her outfit. She huffs as the fabric puffs from her hips. I wince, then snap again. At least she doesn’t look like she’s wearing clouds around her waist.
“Better. Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t thank a demon, spitfire.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’ll get the wrong idea. Also, you’re going the wrong way. It’s over the next hill.”
After walking a few minutes, she clears her throat. “You haven’t told me what to expect.”
“Can’t really explain it. Not in ways you’d understand,” I say, wishing I could just fly there, though I doubt she’d appreciate that. She makes a face. “Wasn’t meant to be insulting, spitfire. You just haven’t been to the dimensions I have.”
“Like where?”
I launch into the harrowing tale of Omen battling chickens with her interjecting questions the entire time.
It’s nice not to bicker with her for once.
The longer she’s here, the more relaxed she becomes.
Maybe it’s the scent in the air. The lava flowers don’t smell like anything else I’ve encountered.
Sweet, yet calming. It’s part of the reason the dragons chose this particular world to nest. It could be impacting Mari’s mood, which I’m not going to complain about.
As much as I enjoy her fire, having a calm conversation with her is…
nice. Plus, she hasn’t told me to get to the point once, despite my rambling with inconsequential details.
“How many other worlds are there?” she asks softly just as we crest the hill.
“Millions, I suppose. I doubt anyone’s counted. When I was younger, I had the grand plan of visiting every single one of them. Like a fucked-up bucket list.” I laugh lightly as I gaze at the fortress laid out at the bottom of the hill. “Gave up on that pretty quickly.”
“You talk like a human. Or maybe just a demon who’s spent a lot of time in my world.”
“Well, the food’s excellent there. Kept bringing me back.
Plus, there’s only a few other beings so contradictory, yet resilient.
Humans as a whole are a lot like phoenixes.
Only difference is they’re the ones burning shit down.
Yet they always rise from the ashes, mostly stronger and wiser than before.
Still got some shitheads running around, but then they come to Hell and we have a grand old time making them suffer. ” I grin and her eyes widen.
“What type of shitheads?”
“Oh, you know, the real bad ones. Not really the time to talk about them. Dragons don’t particularly like them.
Sometimes we send the dragons a little gift, let them play around with the dictators and murderers.
Triton thought we could have demons come and watch for sport.
Dragons nixed that one pretty quickly. Said we’d get queasy.
And if a dragon’s telling you a demon will get sick? Yeah, you don’t argue with them.”
Her mouth parts, then closes as she works through everything. I probably shouldn’t throw random information at her. I’m sure it’s disconcerting. Shutting it off would be like turning off my brain, though. And Mari hasn’t complained.
“Who’s Triton?”
“A demon. I work with him sometimes, training new demons coming up in the ranks. He’s the one who pulled me away last time. Actually, I should figure out what the fuck he was doing, because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was using a summoning circle.”
“You know what a summoning circle looks like?” There’s an edge to her voice like she’s trying to sound nonchalant.
“Sure do. Been summoned a time or two in my day. It’s why I was so sure you had one.”
She leans closer and whispers, “Are we waiting for something?”
I tug the dragon egg from my pocket, then pass it to her. “More likely to get in if you’re returning that.”
She turns it over in her palms. “If the dragons are so protective over their eggs, how did Omen get it? Also, not to be a bitch about your friends, but that’s kind of a dick move with the dragon’s past, don’t you think?”
“Well, I didn’t get the full story. He said he just popped in and then out again.
He shouldn’t have been able to, but weirder things have happened.
Also, I don’t think he knew it was a dragon’s egg.
Not everyone knows their history like I do.
Omen spent his practicum in Waterworld studying…
sea monsters? I think that’s what you’d call them. ”
“You had practicums?” She waves the question away. “You have sea monsters?!”
I shake my head and lace our fingers together before leading her down the hill toward a small door set in the side of the large castle. With my curse fading and Mari finally opening up, we just might be on the right path. Maybe I’ll take her to the sea monsters next.
Her peals of laughter ring through the air as I pull her after me, and I can’t help but grin. Yeah, this could definitely work.