Authors: Dina von Lowenkraft
Rakan started to laugh but stopped when he felt her confusion. “You’re serious?”
June’s cobalt eyes searched his. “Yes.”
Rakan stared back at her for a long time before answering. “Normally, I would do it with my mind. You feel the pieces and you assemble them. It’s just a simple engine that uses the expansion and contraction of air to move a piston, generating energy. It’s a basic example of thermodynamics.”
June nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“You’ve never done it before?” asked Rakan, laying out the pieces.
“No.”
“Didn’t your parents teach you anything?”
“Not like that. They don’t have röks. I only started to learn to manipulate matter here.”
Rakan sat back and examined June. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes. Because it’s the truth.” June held his eyes. “I’m a human with a rök.”
Rakan sat still. It felt like she was telling the truth. “That’s not possible.”
June shrugged. “And yet here I am.”
Rakan looked back at the one hundred and forty eight pieces. “Do you want to try?”
“Can you teach me?”
“You want me to teach you?”
“Why not? You don’t think I can learn?”
“Erling will come flying in here to kill me as soon as my mind touches you.”
“I’ve already put up a shield that blocks him out.” June smiled. “He hates it when I do that.”
Rakan searched with his mind-touch. “I don’t feel it.”
June smiled. “So what did your parents teach you?”
Rakan felt a shiver of doubt. “Not to trust you.”
“But you do trust me, don’t you?” June leaned forward, her eyes blazing a brilliantly bright cobalt blue.
“Yes,” Rakan said, surprised to hear his own answer echo around him as if they were in a closed sphere. The idea reminded him of the twins. He jumped when he felt a ripple of energy run across him. But it was only June trying to link.
“Show me,” she said, pointing to the pieces.
He let his mind-touch meld with hers and was surprised by both its power and its complexity. His rök thrashed in his chest, aching to fly free.
“Why is this hard for you?” asked June, helping him calm his rök.
“No. It’s okay. I just…”
“Feel lonely,” June finished for him.
Rakan forced himself to focus on the engine. When they had finished, he pulled his mind-touch back and looked at her.
She smiled. “You have a gentle mind, with hidden power. I’m letting the shield down.” She packed up her stuff. “Don’t forget to call Anna, you said you would.”
Rakan watched as she disappeared, wondering if he had just made one of the biggest mistakes of his life letting her feel his mind-touch.
T
HE NARROW VALLEY TWISTED BELOW THEM
on the mainland. “There’s nothing here,” Dvara said. “We’re wasting our time. Let’s go home.”
“Their lair is hidden here,” Rakan said without moving from his perch. “I saw something shimmer here last Wednesday.” It corresponded to the light he had seen from Anna’s porch. It had to be here, shrouded by one of their special shields. The island of Tromso twinkled in the distance. “It’s almost sunrise.” He sat stiffly, controlling his urge to face the Eastern sky and answer the Call to Rise. “We should wait.”
“They’ll never come out with us around,” Dvara said, placing her hands on her hips and blocking his view. “In case you’ve forgotten, we can’t hide our trails. There’s no reason to stay. We can’t morph here anyhow.”
“Their shield will react to the coming light, even if only for a fraction of a second. And then we’ll know where their lair is.” Rakan stood and faced his half-sister. “I don’t know why you decided to come with me, but you’re not helping right now.” He leaned forward. “Go home, Dvara.”
Dvara tilted her chin up. “Not without you.”
“Then stay out of my way.” Rakan moved to the side and resumed his watch over the valley, pointedly ignoring his sister.
Dvara stood in front of him again, blocking his view.
A snarl escaped Rakan’s throat before he could quell his desire to lash out and knock Dvara out of the way. “How can I figure out where they live if you keep standing in front of me?”
“We need to go home.” Dvara grabbed his arm and tried to shift them both.
Rakan flung her away and froze the air around her. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice shook with barely controlled rage. “I’m not a puppy. Go home if you want. But I’m staying here.”
Dvara sank down on the crusty snow of late winter. “Why are you so stubborn?”
Rakan started to growl a reply, but the cold reflection of fear on Dvara’s face froze the words in his throat. His eyes darted to where Dvara’s gaze was fixed, but saw nothing. A fraction of a second later, Rakan felt two dragons approaching, and then Kairök Yttresken’s bodyguards shifted into position twenty feet away.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” snapped Rakan, transforming his human clothes into his black dragon pants. The guards stood like silent sentinels.
“Because you’re as stiff and rigid as they are,” hissed Dvara under her breath so that only Rakan would hear. “You’d never have accepted breaking the Code—”
“Try me next time,” Rakan said, cutting her off with a freezing wave of energy. “If there is a next time,” he added under his breath as the air shimmered in front of the guards. He squared his shoulders and braced himself to face the Old Dragon who had come for Dvara.
Kairök Yttresken materialized slowly, playing with his transformation so that he appeared to be both human and dragon at the same time. Rakan snorted. It was a vulgar display of the Kairök’s talents as a transformer. When Yttresken solidified in his human form, he hit his right fist to his chest and held his left hand up in the sign of non-aggression. He opened his right hand and a single lotus took shape, floating in midair, its pale pink petals made of flickering flames.
“Greetings, Kairök Yttresken,” Rakan said, pushing Dvara behind him. He eyed the fire flower suspiciously.
“Greetings young Rakan’dzor,” replied Yttresken with a slight drawl. He scanned Rakan with his mind. “Although you are not as young as Yarlung would have you. You should have become a kai in one of the Cairns by now, unless I am mistaken.”
Rakan bowed again. “I abide by my mother’s will in all such matters.”
Yttresken smiled, his lips making a thin line in his tight face. “That’s good to hear.” His caught Dvara’s scent in the wind, and his pink eyes flared. “Indeed. Yarlung has spoken the truth. Come forward, Dvara Azura, and show yourself so that I may admire the beauty you are said to have blossomed into.”
Rakan put his arm out to stop Dvara, but she froze his movement. “It is my will,” she said coldly. She walked gracefully towards Yttresken, her vermillion gown glittering in the pre-dawn light that heralded the coming of the sun.
Rakan followed her with his eyes. The shape of her gown was different from usual. It was a backless turtleneck dress that revealed far more of her back and buttocks than usual. But it covered her chest in the front. And T’eng Sten’s Firemark. Rakan seethed in anger. Their mother was asking Dvara to play a dangerous game.
Yttresken cupped the flickering flower in his hand. Dvara undulated as she approached the Kairök, only coming to a standstill when she was directly in front of him.
“Yarlung has spoken to me of your desire to join a Cairn,” he said, his voice neutral despite of the evident arousal that Dvara’s dance had stirred in him. “One where there are appropriate dragons able to mate with you. A function Khotan is too weak to assume, I gather.”
A low growl escaped from Rakan before he could stifle his rök’s desire to pound Yttresken to a pulp.
Yttresken arched an eyebrow and looked at Rakan, feigning surprise. “Did you not know there was a time differential between Earth and the Fragments? Through no fault of his own, Khotan has grown frail. Of course, he never was a real Kairök.” Yttresken smiled maliciously. “And I doubt he was ever able to give you the pleasure you deserve.” His voice dropped so low that Rakan had to strain to hear. “Your name suits you, Dwarf Jewel.”
Rakan willed himself to stand still as Yttresken walked slowly around Dvara, examining her with his beady pink eyes. “You are a beauty that any dragon would prize as a mate,” he said, his nostrils flaring. “Will you accept this humble fire flower as a token of my intention to claim you?”
Rakan’s body crisped in apprehension. He had never seen a fire flower before, but his rök was yelling that it couldn’t be a good thing. He felt the telltale tingling on his arms and braced himself for his mother’s appearance in his mind.
“Enough,”
she said.
“Dvara has agreed to accept him. You will not intervene.”
The miniature dragons disappeared as quickly as they had come. Dvara bowed to the Kairök, and Rakan growled to himself. If Yttresken tried to take Dvara by force, he’d protect her, even if Dvara didn’t fight back, even if it meant going against his mother’s will.
Yttresken undid Dvara’s hair and let it tumble down her back. He placed the fire flower above her head where it floated for a moment before bursting into thousands of miniature flames. They sparkled like glitter as they wove themselves into Dvara’s hair. “What has Yarlung done to stop me from taking you now?” Yttresken closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “You’re so ripe.”
“Only her wrath, should you take me without accepting me by your side,” Dvara said sweetly. But Rakan could feel the loathing underneath.
Yttresken’s laugh was sharp and dry. “Either you are naïve, or you play your part well. Either way, I must be reassured of a few things before offering you that honor.” Yttresken’s features hardened, taking on the solid aspect of armor. “Kairök T’eng Sten has let it be known that you wear his Firemark.” Yttresken paused to watch Dvara’s face. “If that is true, why hasn’t he claimed you now that you are free?”
“He did. But I refused him,” Dvara said, tilting up her chin. “It was a mistake of youth. I was lonely and he took advantage of my innocence.”
Yttresken snorted. “Whether you refuse or not, he is strong enough to take you. And, unlike me, he would have no scruples in doing so. He is not the gentleman that I am.”
Dvara bowed her head. “I did not understand the implications of my actions at the time. I have since asked him to release me.”
“Be careful what you say, Dvara. If I do take your rök, I will know everything.” He cupped a hand under Dvara’s chin and she pulled back in a faint movement of revulsion. Yttresken’s eyes narrowed. “I will not take having been lied to lightly.”
Dvara stood perfectly still, neither turning away from Yttresken’s piercing gaze nor rising to his challenge. But Rakan could feel the hatred that Dvara struggled to control. He crouched slightly, ready to spring to her defense should she burst forth in an uncontrolled attack on the Kairök. His only chance to save her would be to shift her home where T’eng Sten’s shields would protect her.
If
he could shift her home without killing her. It wasn’t a skill he had mastered yet.
Yttresken let go of Dvara and took out one of his three pronged dragon knives. He caressed the glistening black metal, turning it around in his hands. He smiled at Dvara and then inserted it into her dress, directly between her breasts. Slowly, he brought the knife up, smoothly slicing the metallic cloth and revealing T’eng Sten’s Firemark. When he reached the top of her dress, he tilted her chin up with the tip of the blade. “You do know that there is only one way to release you from T’eng Sten’s Firemark, don’t you?”
Dvara gave a faint jerk of her head, her jaw muscles twitching.
“And what way is that?” he asked, leaning closer to her.
Dvara closed her eyes as his breath caressed her face, but she didn’t respond.
“Tell me,” he said, increasing the pressure of the knife and tilting her chin higher.
“Death,” she hissed tersely.
Yttresken smiled malevolently. “Whose?” A trickle of blood ran down the knife.
Rakan growled and lunged for Yttresken, who quickly turned Dvara around so that her back was against his chest and his knife was on her jugular. “Don’t even think about it, or she dies right now,” said Yttresken as two more guards appeared.
Dvara shimmered as if she was trying to shift, but Yttresken gripped her tighter. “Why would you want to shift out of my arms, darling? Didn’t you just accept my courtship?”
“Back off, Rakan,” Dvara hissed. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Now that’s much more reasonable, isn’t it,” said Yttresken, his free hand beginning to explore her stomach.
Rakan backed off, wondering if he could manage to shift Dvara back to their apartment. If Yttresken tried to kill her, he’d take the risk.
“So. Whose death, darling?” Yttresken asked again, his lips nuzzling her ear.
“The one who made the mark,” Dvara hissed, jerking her head away.
“Indeed.” Yttresken lowered his knife. “And since you have accepted my courtship, does that mean you renounce his?”
“I already said yes,” she said, her voice a hiss of undisguised fury.