The Dragon Legion Collection 9 (24 page)

Even with snakes.

He swallowed when Petra’s eyes burned with brilliant light and refused to think that she could smite a man with a glance. She looked powerful and immovable and he felt the ground vibrate beneath his feet in response to her summons. He knew she could create an earthquake and an avalanche, and he told himself to believe in her. He knew he should trust her, just as she’d trusted him, and he believed her claim that she could control her powers.

Even so, he felt sweat on his brow when the snakes erupted from the ground and slithered around her feet. They were black and glossy vipers, long and thick and sinuous. Damien swallowed as they began to wind over her body, as if they couldn’t get close enough to her. His heart pounded when the fissures opened in the earth, radiating from her body in response to her low cry.

When the darkfire sparked all around Petra, he was concerned but resolute.

He gripped his dagger and waited, ignoring the way the darkfire shone off the scales of the snakes. He refused to think of how numerous they were. He refused to think of his own safety, or the fact that he couldn’t shift shape to defend himself. His fate was in Petra’s hands, and the earth was crumbling on all sides.

Her gaze blazed into his own, daring him to trust her, and Damien did.

Then she gave a cry of horror and stepped back. He reached for her as she spun away, but his fingers only brushed the cloth of her tunic. The ground crumbled on all sides of him, dissolving beneath his feet with terrifying speed.

Damien screamed as he fell.

He fell into an abyss, one filled with darkness, the glint of darkfire, and a thousand hissing snakes. There was nothing to grab but the snakes that fell with him, no way to save himself, and he had no ability to shift shape.

He tried.

Over and over and over again.

Damien landed on a rocky patch of dirt, the impact hard enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He closed his eyes in horror at the sound of snakes landing on the ground all around him. When he looked, some of them were still wriggling, while others had slithered away. It was still twilight, although there were no stars.

There was no sign of Petra.

Damien sat up with caution. Where had the darkfire cast him now?

He was in a deadened forest, silence on every side. The trees were barren of leaves, their branches stretched upward, as if straining toward a sun that never lit this realm. Even though their boughs were empty, it was darker within the ghostly forest and more still. It was colder even than the rest of the underworld and Damien shivered. The bark of the trees was grey, more like stone than wood.

Fear slid down Damien’s spine.

There was fog near the ground, a fog that became denser with every passing moment. It sent a chill through him and he noticed that there was no spark of darkfire in the pale haze.

He didn’t trust its absence.

Damien heard a rustling and spun to defend himself, his dagger at the ready.

There was no one behind him, just a tree.

He might have turned away but he saw a contorted face in the trunk of the tree. A person was trapped inside, silently screaming for a release that would never come.

Damien backed away, not trusting his own eyes. His back collided with another tree, and he spun to find another anguished face just behind his shoulder. He ran from tree to tree, realizing there were people trapped in every one.

Frozen forever.

And Damien was engulfed in a memory he’d have preferred to forget.

* * *

Damien was returning to Petra after a quick trip to Delphi, the teasing of his fellow warriors echoing in his thoughts. What if he was falling in love? Damien couldn’t think of a woman more likely to fascinate him forever than his Petra.

He hurried, shifting shape and flying over the mountains to save time. Even though he didn’t bring the best news, he wanted to be with Petra sooner. His journey had gone as planned and he was striding out of the hills, in human form, by twilight.

Damien was tired and dusty, hungry but ready to see his lady again. Three days away had been too long. He was anticipating an evening before the hearth, savoring Petra’s kisses and her laughter. He didn’t care if there was only dry bread to eat. Her company would be enough. He imagined a long night in bed, of sharing kisses and confessions. He loved how their son was making her figure more full and her features more soft.

They had stopped in a village when Petra became ill with her pregnancy and had lived there several weeks. It was small but not too small—they could be overlooked in its confines, but also recognized. He and Petra kept to themselves, always paid promptly and in full, and were courteous. Although Damien didn’t like to remain in one place for long, he’d reconciled himself to remaining here until his son was born.

But it looked different on this night. To Damien’s astonishment, there was a forest where the village should be. He stopped and stared, doubting the evidence of his eyes. No, the forest had filled the village, for the houses were still there. Damien couldn’t make sense of it. He walked closer, cautious as he tried to determine a reason for the change.

It was quiet, too quiet. He strained his ears but could only hear the crackle of a single fire on a hearth. He knew it was in the courtyard of the house he shared with Petra. There was only stillness, other than the breath of the wind, and the motion he could hear from their home. Petra was there, bustling around as usual, as if in anticipation of his return.

But where had these trees come from? What had happened to the village? There was usually some activity, even until dark.

Damien realized the trees had no branches. They were more like pillars, or trees that had been sawn off at about his height. He had a very bad feeling as he stepped into this strange forest, although he couldn’t have named the reason why.

Then he saw the first face and realized the truth.

They weren’t trees: they were people.

He reached out and touched one, shocked to find the man as cold and hard as stone. It was the farmer who lived beside them. There was his wife next to him, similarly immobilized. Though they couldn’t move, their eyes were filled with accusation. Damien touched another and another, then realized they’d been enchanted and turned to stone.

He thought of the prophecy that had just been given to him and feared for Petra.

He ran to their home, flinging open the door and bursting into the central courtyard.

Petra turned to smile at him in welcome. She was fine, much to his relief, humming as she stirred a pot of stew that was set over the fire. He stood shaking in the doorway but she smiled, as if nothing was wrong at all.

“I thought you would return tonight,” she said easily. “I kept the stew warm for you.” He realized that she was completely different from his mother. There was no demand in her expectation, no need. On another night, he might have been relieved, for his mother had nearly destroyed his father.

On this night, he was cautious.

How could she not know what was outside these walls?

Petra came to him and kissed his cheek, catching his hand in hers and giving it a slight tug. “You must be tired. Come and sit and tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Have you been out?” Damien demanded, for that could be the only explanation for her calm manner.

“Yes. Why?”

He stopped and stared at her. “Didn’t you see?

She glanced at him quickly, something in her eyes made him believe she knew exactly what he meant. “See what?”

“All of the village is turned to stone!”

Petra wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yes.” She stirred the stew. “Are you hungry?”

“Wait!” Damien seized her arm, compelling her to face him. “How can you be so indifferent? Do you know something about this? Are you responsible for this in some way?”

Petra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re the only one who isn’t enchanted.”

“I’m the only one who’s pregnant,” she said lightly, her gaze locking with his. “But you’re right. I’m also the only one who is an Earthdaughter.” She said this as if it were perfectly routine, but Damien didn’t know what she meant.

He felt a terrible dread. He remembered his father’s warning that being bound to a single woman could only lead to sorrow and a loss of powers. He thought of the prophecy he’d just been given, the one that said much the same thing. Was Drake’s summons to serve offering him an escape just in time?

“What’s an Earthdaughter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. If she’d turned the villagers to stone, there was no reason she couldn’t do the same to him.

Making the prophecy come true. What of the rest of it? Would it all come true? Damien had tried to dismiss the dire prediction, but now he couldn’t.

“You’re not the only one with powers in this household, Damien.” Petra spoke in a practical tone, as if they discussed the weather. She smiled at him slightly. “I wish I could have found another way to tell you, but in the end, there was no choice.” She shrugged and began to ladle out some stew for him. “It was really only a matter of time before you knew and now you do.”

Damien wanted her to say it aloud. “You did this to them?”

“Yes.” She was unrepentant, which angered Damien as little else could have done.

“How could you do such a thing? And why? There is nothing they could have done to you to merit such treatment...”

“Nothing?” she asked, lifting her chin with a familiar defiance.

“Nothing!” Damien replied. “Don’t you think I deserved to know about your powers before we conceived my son?”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “I didn’t know about all of your powers before that happy deed was done.”

“It’s not the same!”

“It’s exactly the same. You’re more than human and so am I. Frankly, I thought that we’d understand each other as a result.”

“No!” Damien paced the central courtyard of the house. “This is all wrong.” He paced the courtyard, then pivoted to face her. “You might as well know. I have to leave and I might not be back.”

Petra looked shaken. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been called to duty.” Damien didn’t feel as much regret as he had just moments ago. He knew that Petra saw the truth in his eyes. “I have to go.”

Her lips set. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” He swallowed then said it. “Maybe never.”

She held his gaze for a long potent moment. “You’re just fabricating an excuse, because you’re afraid of what I can do.”

Damien didn’t know what to say to that, but Petra didn’t give him much time to think.

“Did you get your prophecy, at least?” she asked.

Damien took a deep breath and recited the oracle’s pronouncement:

A lost child mourned for many years

A mother who will shed no tears

A dragon warrior turned to stone

A woman abandoned, all alone.

Firestorm’s promise will fade to naught

Until stone and fire pay death’s cost.

After a
Pyr
sacrifice is made

Destiny’s promise can be claimed.

“Cheerful,” Petra said tightly. Her displeasure was a palpable force. “So, you’re leaving, because I obviously am the person who can turn you to stone and your son isn’t going to survive anyway.”

“I don’t want it to be true, Petra.”

She gave him a hot look. “Then you could ask some questions. You could try to find the hidden truth of the prophecy. They often have double meanings, as I’m sure you know.”

“No,” Damien said, shaking his head. “No. This time, the prophecy is as clear as can be. I’m sorry, Petra. I wanted to believe in the firestorm.”

“Not enough to fight for it,” she replied, her tone hard.

He knew she was right. He also knew that given his upbringing and his father’s end, the prophecy and his call to duty, that there was no other answer. He’d been honest with her, but felt she’d deceived him. Repairing the damage would take time, time they didn’t have, and a sacrifice he was unwilling to make.

Their gazes locked and held for a charged moment, and Damien noted the slight rounding of Petra’s belly. He couldn’t believe she would lose their son, not when she looked so healthy in her pregnancy, but he couldn’t accept what she had done. If he remained with her, even for one night, it would be an endorsement of her deed.

“What will you do?” he asked.

She shrugged, pretending to be indifferent when he knew she wasn’t. “I can’t imagine you care.” Her tone was hurt and he felt guilt at his role in that.