Authors: Dina von Lowenkraft
“Think about the way you concentrate when you play handball. Fighting needs the same concentration. It’s just a dance between two people instead of two teams. Try again. Just block for now. There, like that. No, not too fast – just respond to my movement. Better.”
Anna searched for the same feeling of mental clarity as when she was in the mad rush of a game and pressure was on to score. To find that opening, to see where to attack. Red moved slowly, giving her time to block. She started to feel the dance. The give and take, the attack that needed a response. Red moved faster and at first she followed. But then she began blocking after the blow and he was touching her every time.
“You’re too stiff. Stop thinking and feel it.”
Anna dropped her arms and backed out of Red’s reach. “I was.”
“No, you weren’t.” He backed her up to the wall. “Hit me.”
“No.” She tried to turn away, but there was no where to go.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Red exploded in laughter and Anna reached out to slap him, but he caught her wrist and twisted it painfully. “Ouch,” she said. A rush of anger accompanied by sparks of tingling energy welled up inside her.
“Slapping won’t do anything.” Red dropped her hand. “Try punching me. No, hit with your first two knuckles. Harder. Here,” he said, taking the pillow from the window nook. “Hit this instead.”
She focused on the pillow and punched. She wanted him to feel it through the pillow. But he didn’t react. So she tried again. And again.
“Keep going,” he said whenever she slowed down. “Better, but use the floor.”
“What?” she said dropping her arms and earning herself another tap on her cheek. “Would you stop that?” It was driving her crazy. But Red only laughed, annoying her even more.
“Keep your guard up,” he said. “And put your weight behind it. Imagine the punch starting from the floor, twisting up through your hip and out your arm. Punch through to my back, not just the pillow.”
Anna glowered at him. She had been trying to punch him through the pillow.
“You’ll get it,” he said, misunderstanding her reaction. “Keep trying.”
She clenched her fist and slammed into him. This time the pillow flattened.
“Ah, finally.” He dropped the pillow. “Now hit me.”
“No.”
“Why not? You can’t hurt me.”
Anger finally flared out of control and Anna threw a punch at her cousin, wanting to blast him out of the kitchen and wipe the knowing smile off his face. But the punch never connected. One moment he was there, and the next he wasn’t. Her anger died as quickly as it had come. “Red?” Her skin prickled as the minute sparks of energy disappeared, leaving her feeling cold. And alone. “Red?”
“Behind you,” he said in her ear, making her jump halfway across the kitchen.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she said, spinning around with her hand on her chest.
“Pemba’s shield was about to blast me.”
Anna gripped the back of a chair. “How do you know about the shield?”
“What do you think happened the other night? That I fell into your shelves?”
“But it doesn’t do it every time.” It hadn’t worked on Ulf.
“It only works if the person has… the same kind of energy that I do.”
“Oh,” Anna said, examining Red more closely. Was he a shapeshifter too?
“I can’t teach you to fight, Anna. You get too angry.”
“I can control it.”
“No. Ea was right. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Can’t you change the shield so that it doesn’t react to you?”
Red turned away. “If I did, he’d know I existed. And I can’t take that risk. As it is, every time the shield is activated and I’m here—”
“What?” asked Anna, a sinking feeling in her gut.
“There’s a risk that Pemba will show up and realize that I’m one of the ones he’s looking for.” Red faced her, his face dead serious. “And then I’d have to kill him.”
* * *
Rakan crossed his arms over his oiled chest. Yarlung had placed him as a guard to her inner lair carved out of the rock beneath her lake. An honor he would rather have done without. Just like the oil that male dragons wore for formal occasions. He fingered the metal armbands that allowed him to mind-speak with Yuli, his mother’s third in command. He had begun to fill out in the past few weeks and it felt good. Even if he wasn’t as bulky as an Old Dragon, he was no longer as slender as a puppy.
The gentle hum of elegantly coifed females and seductively oiled males didn’t hide the tension that gnawed under the surface. Rakan blocked it out. He didn’t need to know what they were saying. Other dragons were taking care of that. All he needed to do was make sure that no weapons were brought into his mother’s inner chamber. He had nearly shifted out of his mother’s lair twice when he felt Anna’s shield begin to react. But it had quieted down since.
Yuli, dressed in a simple lime-green sheath that matched her eyes, led Kairök Yttresken from one of the niches that surrounded the domed area. She motioned for Yttresken to stay a few feet behind and approached Rakan. “I see the Arctic agrees with you, Rakan’dzor.”
Rakan bowed slightly, not sure what she meant. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She ran her eyes over his chest. “We should fly together.” Yuli turned slightly to the side, undulating just enough to be suggestive.
“I’ve always enjoyed flying with you,” he answered slowly, confused by her behavior.
“My dear Rakan, when will you unleash the fire of your name?” A smile played on her lips.
“Yarlung would like you to distract Yttresken while she prepares for their meeting.”
Her mental voice filled him with warmth, stirring a response that her flirting hadn’t.
Rakan nodded curtly and broke the contact. “May her will be done,” he said formally.
Yuli’s lime green eyes danced with flecks of gold. “May your will be done,” she whispered. She turned and motioned for Yttresken to come forward.
“Greetings, Rakan,” said Yttresken.
“Yttresken,” Rakan responded with the minimum of nods, returning the insult of familiarity in a formal setting.
“I see you’ve been brought back in order,” said the Kairök, his beady pink eyes flicking to Rakan’s thick metal armbands. “Although perhaps not far enough.” Yttresken’s voice oozed insult, but Rakan ignored it.
The bands were pre-molded to turn into daggers if needed. “My mother will see you shortly.” He would be Yarlung’s guard, but he wouldn’t play her political games.
“Good,” said Yttresken. He moved closer and spoke in a confidential tone. “I know that this… new… situation with T’eng Sten must be very trying for you.”
Rakan’s nostrils flared. Yttresken’s cloying floral scent repulsed Rakan as much as the Kairök himself, but Rakan forced himself not to react. The Kairök couldn’t possibly know about his agreement with T’eng Sten.
“His imprisonment of your poor sister is an abomination,” continued Yttresken. “Such a dreadful situation. I trust she isn’t suffering too much?”
“My mother has insight into these matters that I do not,” Rakan said stiffly. No matter what he said about Dvara, it would be twisted against her: if he said she was unhappy it would be reason to attack T’eng Sten and if he said she was happy it would be reason to attack Dvara. Either way, it would make things worse.
Yttresken’s pink eyes narrowed. “Indeed. Although you probably have some insight into Kariaksuq’s current ailment, I believe?”
“I trust she is well.”
Yttresken’s thin lips curled into a vicious smile. “Apart from being a little delusional. She appears to believe you are a water dragon, and not an air dragon as Yarlung was so proud to proclaim.” Yttresken leaned forward. “I can keep your little secret, Rakan. I’m always willing to help a
friend
. Yes?”
Rakan’s anger flared. How could the Kairök think he could be blackmailed with something so stupid? Even if he wasn’t an air dragon, all three forms were technically equal. Even if most Kairöks were air dragons. He squashed his reaction and bent his head. “You are too gracious,” he said, letting Yttresken believe he was accepting his offer. Getting into the details of what had actually happened with Kariaksuq wouldn’t help anyone.
“Good boy,” said the Kairök, patting his shoulder. “I’m glad we understand each other so well.”
It was all Rakan could do not to lash out at the Kairök.
“Can I send him in now?”
he snarled at his mother.
“What has he done to anger you?”
she asked. She sounded amused.
“He thinks he can manipulate me to help him get Dvara.”
Yarlung laughed derisively.
“And did you allow him to continue to think that?”
Rakan hesitated.
“Yes.”
He had just wanted to end the conversation.
“Good. Very good. You’re learning, my son. You’re learning. Send him in.”
“My mother will see you now, if I may proceed?” Rakan said coolly.
“By all means, please do,” said Yttresken with a self-satisfied smile. “But you won’t find anything. I wouldn’t need a weapon to kill someone.”
Rakan continued in silence, trying not to snarl in repulsion as he searched the Kairök. Once finished, he dissolved the slab of rock that sealed off Yarlung’s dimly lit inner chamber. Rakan deactivated the shields and the gentle sound of the gurgling mineral spring hushed the incessant chatter as everyone turned to see who was going in. Rakan stepped to the side and watched Yttresken saunter through.
He wouldn’t need any weapons to kill Yttresken either.
A
NNA PACED THE DINING ROOM, DEBATING
whether or not to call Pemba. She reached out tentatively, trying to feel if he was somewhere in Tromso. But he wasn’t. He had been gone for nearly a week now. Anna pressed her forehead against the cool window pane. But Dawa was home, she could feel her sharp energy behind the shields that surrounded the Tibetan House. She never even left their rooms anymore.
“Boyfriend give up?” Ulf dropped his gym bag on the living room floor and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal perfect abs that made him look like a male Barbie.
Anna glanced over Ulf’s shoulder and into the kitchen, wondering if her mom had come home too.
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Ulf rubbed his hand over his chest. “I just want to take a shower before dinner.”
“The shower is upstairs.” She clenched her fists. She’d pummel him if he came too close.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, walking towards her nonchalantly. “So much frustration. Pemba doesn’t know how to show you a good time, does he?” Ulf flashed his wolfish grin. “Or did he refuse to take you violently?” Anna tried to storm past Ulf but he sidestepped in front of her. “He never even kissed you, did he?” Ulf asked with a smirk.
“I thought you wanted to shower.”
“You need to relax and enjoy life. You’re too serious all the time. Even when you play handball. You’d play better and enjoy it more if you loosened up.” He leaned forward. “You’re too uptight.”
Anna punched Ulf square in the chest and dodged to the side. But he grabbed her arm and yanked her close. “What was that for? I’m just trying to help.” Ulf dropped her arm and walked away. “Dawa made me promise to give you this,” he said, stopping in the doorway. He pulled out an envelope and let it flutter to the ground. “I don’t know why I agreed.”
* * *
“You have served me well,” said Yarlung from the divan that rose like a throne in the middle of her bubbling mineral pool. Her dress shimmered alternately turquoise and white in the fine spray of the waterfall that rippled behind her back like an intricate tapestry.
Rakan nodded, unsure how to bring up the subject of his tattoos.
Yarlung walked down the gently curving steps and disappeared into the water. Rakan’s nostrils flared. He wanted to feel the water rush around him, to move through it as if it was air. To feel himself as one with the movement of the currents. He snarled. He wasn’t a water dragon. He shouldn’t crave it. Undulating white coils flashed beneath the surface. She had morphed. He had missed his chance to speak with her alone.
Rakan bowed in her direction and turned to leave.
“I was happy to hear that Kariaksuq managed to get you to chase her. It is time you came into your full powers.”
Rakan stopped. What else had Yttresken told her? He faced his mother and bowed again. “I thought my presence was no longer necessary.”
“On the contrary,” she said. She ran her mind-touch over him and dissolved the metal bands that circled his biceps. “Yttresken says it’s a shame you aren’t a water dragon or he’d offer her to you for your first mating as a dragon.” Her eyes narrowed. “He seems to be taking quite an interest in you.”
“He’s not the only Kairök to have expressed an interest.”
“I assume you speak of T’eng Sten?”
“He offered to remove the tattoos and in exchange requests that I offer to be your spy. He would then give me information to give you.”
Yarlung’s mouth twitched into a thin smile. “Did he not consider that you might tell me of his real intentions?”