PART TEN
The four of them continued to stare at her blankly for several moments, when finally Prince Octavio moved, swing his sword to point at Prince Douglass, who ducked just in time to avoid having his head sliced from the rest of him. “It was all Shellow’s idea!”
Douglass looked at the other man sourly and reached out a hand to push the offending weapon away. “You are mistaken sir,” he said stiffly, and then turned at looked at Liz earnestly, “Princess Elizabeth, you must believe me, it was de Luca’s suggestion.” And he pointed, without his sword, at Prince Sean.
Sean, surprised, “It was not!” he exclaimed childishly, “It was Oct-“
“Enough,” Liz cried, cutting him off mid-accusation. He lowered his half raised arm sullenly and sent a glare in Prince Douglass’ direction. “It does not matter who-“ And then she herself was cut off as Kyle threw his arms around her.
“Lizzie,” he croaked, and she pulled back, startled by the sound of his voice, normally so smooth and self-assured. Emotions were nearly overflowing from his blue eyes, and she could tell that he was trying very hard not to lose control and cry. “I thought we’d lost you.”
“Oh Kyle,” she murmured, and hugged him tighter, feeling tears start to prick her eyes as well. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed her older brother. “I’m fine, I promise.”
They embraced a little longer, and Liz could feel Max’s eyes, hot with impatience, on her back. He wanted these humans gone from his home, and he wanted them very far away from her. One final squeeze between the siblings and then Kyle looked down at her grim-faced, then looked at the dragon crouched a fair distance away, and then back down into her curious brown eyes.
“It is lucky we made it in time,” he whispered fervently.
“In time for what?” she whispered back, confused.
“To save you.”
“From what?”
He looked down on her, incredulous. “From the dragon of course!” he hissed.
“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows smoothly, “Yes, well then thank you, but no thank you. I am quite well as you can tell and see no reason-“
“Liz,” he interrupted, “We have a plan, do not fret.” Her brow furrowed as she frowned. Why wouldn’t he listen to her? “You will be free Liz, and our sisters and brother will be avenged. We must lure the dragon from this sacred place. We have our combined armies waiting outside to finally destroy him-”
“I can hear you, you know.”
Kyle paled, and Liz suppressed a very inappropriate giggle as she turned around to gaze at the owner of the deep, brimstone voice. Max had curled up, in a false impression of nonchalance, he had one golden eye open, which was staring at Kyle balefully while his tail thumped the ground in a complex, rhythmic pattern.
He raised his head, and Liz could just imagine the man in him grinning devilishly as he bared his fangs. “Hwhat makesss you think I would ffall ffor sssuch an obviousss ssscheme?” A rumbling laugh escaped him, sending smoke rings in their direction. Liz waved them away imperiously with her hand and glared at him.
“You’re not helping,” she informed him. He just blinked at her innocently and rose to his feet, slowly lumbering toward the two siblings as if he had all the time in the world. Kyle straightened and placed his hand on his sword pommel. The other three men had fled to a respectable distance and were still arguing about whose idea this venture had been in the first place. Liz just rolled her eyes. Male posturing was so passé…
And speaking of the testosterone wielding sex, her brother was locking eyes with her dragon as Max rose to his full height just behind her, his great wings unfurled to balance him out. She looked up at him in exasperation and then turned around and gave him a shove. “Go away!” she ordered, “You said I could do this myself!”
He craned his head to look at her, eyes half-lidded to signify boredom, “You are not getting any where,” he stated, “Night will sssoon ffall, and I want you back home.” He shifted his pupil-less eyes to her brother in what she thought was a peculiarly pointed way. “In bed.”
Liz turned red. She could feel the heat of the blush in every part of her body. “Max!” she yelled, scandalized, and then preceded to smack him six ways to Sunsday, although he felt none of the slaps through that thick hide of his…She could certainly feel them though, and she shook her stinging hand, settling on giving him death glares and deciding to pummel him when he was human and weak.
“Liz!” came Kyle’s startled voice.
She looked at him sheepishly, the blush intensifying. “It isn’t what you think,” she protested. But he was looking at her as if he didn’t understand her words, and then Max was chuckling, and she realized with embarrassment that Kyle had no idea that Max was a man half the time and that they shared a bed… “Oh. Hee-hee… What?”
“You named it?” her brother inquired, seemingly appalled.
“No,” she corrected, “He already had a name.”
He glanced at Max furtively, “It’s not a pet, Lizzie.”
“I know that!” she shouted
“It will eat you,” he told her.
“He will not,” she said firmly.
“It ate Maria and Izzy and Jesse,” Kyle pointed out.
“He did not!” was Liz’s indignant reply.
“I did not!” was Max’s equally indignant reply, “And ssstop talking about me asss iff I wasssn’t here.”
“Oh yeah,” Kyle retorted, “Well if you didn’t eat them, then where are they?” he demanded.
“Didn’t you get Maria’s letter?” Liz asked, before Max could form a immature response.
Kyle looked at her, blue eyes wide, caught off guard. “What letter?”
Liz sighed, “She was supposed to write you a letter.” Of course, Maria was forgetful most of the time, and with the added stress of a volatile husband, irritating customers, and a baby on the way, she was probably half out of her mind…
“She’s alive?”
“Uh-huh, and married and pregnant and happy.”
“What?”
“And Isabel is traveling the world with that minstrel, you remember, that Alex guy…”
“What?”
“And Jesse’s in the monastery at the eastern border of Terra d’Mortais…”
“What?”
“Liz.” Max’s voice was urgent, and Liz looked back at him. He was watching the descending sun intensely.
“And I am perfectly happy here, with Max,” she finished up her update and smiled distractedly at her brother, “Now, you better hurry home before Vicki starts to worry.”
“What?!”
“Kyle…” her voice softened, “I swear, I’m safe with Max.”
“Liz-“
She cut him off one last time. “I love you, big brother,” she murmured and kissed his cheek.
“Liz, wait,” Kyle said, grabbing at her arms as Max wrapped a claw around her and lifted her up. He hovered above the ground, his wings sweeping and making the four men standing below cower.
“I will take care off her, King,” he reassured Kyle, and then continued upward as the sun set, cradling his precious cargo with him toward her new life, and away from her old. “I will take care off her,” he vowed to himself, watching her brush herself off when he set her down. She gave him a brilliant smile that made his heart stop, and then the change swept over him, and he was once again a man.
Liz reached out to him, still smiling. “Come to bed, Max.”
A Dragon's Heart TEEN COMPLETE
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PART ELEVEN
“You’re such a baby.”
“Hn,” came the disgruntled reply. Max lay on his side of the bed, curled in a fetal position, and feeling very abused.
“Let me see.” He could feel her moving on the bed.
“No!” He pulled the covers over his head.
She sighed, “It’s your own fault, you know.”
The comforter came down, revealing an indignant Max, and he stared at her as she settled back down on her side. “You hit me,” he stated, “What did I do to deserve that?” he asked, and then continued before she could formulate a reply, “Nothing, that’s what.”
Her jaw dropped and Max resisted the urge to take her mouth with his own. He was the wounded party after all, and he was not going to let her win this argument just because he was helpless against her feminine charms.
“Nothing?” she repeated, voice high, “You call that deplorable statement you made to my brother, my brother of all people, ‘nothing’?!” she demanded.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded primly.
“No?” she inquired, “Then let me remind you: ‘I want you back home. In bed!" she hissed the last word.
“It was getting late,” he said, “People sleep on beds when it’s late.”
“Ooh,” she glared at him, “That wasn’t what your tone of voice implied.”
He rolled his eyes, “And what did my ‘tone of voice’ imply?”
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” she exclaimed, “and you know precisely what it implied you lecherous dragon!”
“Exactly! A dragon,” he crowed, “I’m a dragon to your kingly brother, love, not a man.” He scooched closer to her though she was still sulking. “He won’t assume anything, Liz,” he said softly, touching her arm. She looked at him, her big brown eyes still accusing. “You heard him, Liz, I’m a creature to him. A murderous beast.”
Suddenly he felt bitter. What right had this king to criticize the Crown Prince of Antar, whose blood was purer than any in the world?
“You’re not a beast, Max,” was Liz’s low assurance. She had read the hurt in his eyes, and suddenly her embarrassment seemed less important. He had stopped looking at her, burying his head in the pillow she was resting on. She reached out and ran her fingers soothingly through his soft raven hair. “You’re a caring, noble man, and I…” she trailed off, feeling abruptly shy.
He had been fighting tears. Liz had been the one thing besides his freedom, that he had desired these last few years, even before he had discovered she was real and not just a dream that had kept him from going insane. And now some ignorant, power-bloated, narrow-minded…jerk, had the nerve to try and take her from him. To tell him he was unworthy of her. Regardless that he was her brother and a good king and a fairly tolerable person if Max didn’t have to be in company with him…
“You what?” he asked, finally lifting his head. She was blushing, the light flush making her face glow. A small pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and Max was immediately focused on her soft, tempting mouth yet again.
“I…” her eyes darted back and forth and then met his determinedly, “I love you,” she declared.
For a second, the world was frozen, and then it started up again, everything in vivid clarity, from the beating of her heart, both fast and slow at the same time, and the ragged shallowness of her breathing as she waited for an answer, the blush on her cheeks, the way her eyelashes swept down against her skin, the slight movement of her dark hair as a breeze swept through the chamber.
Her body was pliant as he pulled her beneath him, her lips yielding as he plundered them. His hands tangled in her silken hair, and his body pressed against hers, sliding between her thighs.
“Max,” she gasped when his lips had finally released hers.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. He moved off of her, knowing she had been about to protest. As much as she wanted him, he knew she would stick to her principles of marriage first. Her conviction was one of the things he loved about her, as much as this particular one frustrated him.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he settled back down beside her, pulling her into a spooning position. Another tender kiss was his response. Weariness started to overcome him, and he felt his eyes droop. “Max?”
“Hmm?”
“What is your curse, exactly?”
“’Dragon by day, man by night’, Liz.” His tone was supercilious, and she very nearly bristled, but she held her temper. After all, they had just shared a very special moment, and she hadn’t been very specific in her question.
“I meant, how did you get it, and how do you end it?”
She felt him shrug. “I was caught by Teschra, an Unseelie wight. I was lucky to escape with my life, though there were many times these past ten years I did not consider myself so lucky.” His lips vibrated against her ear, as he pulled her even closer to him. “I was given an out though. I was to come to Terra d’Mortais and grant the wishes of the royal children, and one of them would be able to defeat Teschra and set me free. But Kyle was needed as king and could not be taken, and Jesse was more intellectual then physically able to defeat one of the most feared Fae-“
“And did you never think of my sisters and I?” Liz cried, twisted around to glower at him.
“You’re a woman,” he said, blinking in confusion.
A sound of distaste escaped her and she disentangled herself from his embrace, “And did it ever occur to you that women know how to wield a sword and shoot a bow? That I can certainly defend myself as well as Kyle?”
“No,” he answered honestly, “Can you?”
She stopped trying to get out of the bed and looked at him. “Well…Not quite as well, but I am capable of swordplay and archery.”
“Really?” he asked, and a wicked smile crossed his face as he reached for her and dragged her back to him. “Care to have a duel?” he inquired, innuendo obvious.
“Max!” she exclaimed, exasperated, “I can fight Teschra!”
He was suddenly serious, “No.”
“Are you doubting my skills?”
“No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Liz,” he said, cupping her chin and making her meet his eyes, “I would never risk you that way. To lose you, Liz, would be to lose my heart. It would destroy me.” Her expression softened and she leaned into his hand. “No, I’ll just wait until your brother and his wife start the next generation.”
“That could be years.”
“Then I’ll wait those years.” He didn’t understand why she was making such a big deal out of it. It was simple. As long as he had her, he wouldn’t mind how long it took to regain his freedom.
“Max…”
“Just leave it, Liz.”
Didn’t he know what would happen? He would stay as he was, and she would grow older… It made her ache to think that he would stop loving her as she became wrinkled and stooped and gray…
“Maybe we should go to Antar anyway.”
“What?”
“Well, it will be years, and it has been a long time since you were really home. What about your parents and friends? Do they know you’re alive? That you’re safe?”
Max felt frozen again, only this time it wasn’t associated with good feelings. He had never really thought about his mother and father or Rath, Vilandra, Ava, and Zan. He’d wondered how they were doing, but he’d never thought about how they’d deal with his disappearance. “I don’t know,” he said, “They…No, they wouldn’t. How could they?” He whispered.
“Then, we should go.” She’d find that Teschra, and she’d teach her that no one messed with Liz’s Max. “We’ll pack some clothing tomorrow and then the day after we’ll set out. We’ll fly by day, rest at night.” She nodded, satisfied with her plan.
“But-”
“No buts, Max, we leave in two days.” And then she cuddled close to him and closed her eyes. “Now go to sleep,” she commanded.
He sighed. “Yes, dear.”
“You’re such a baby.”
“Hn,” came the disgruntled reply. Max lay on his side of the bed, curled in a fetal position, and feeling very abused.
“Let me see.” He could feel her moving on the bed.
“No!” He pulled the covers over his head.
She sighed, “It’s your own fault, you know.”
The comforter came down, revealing an indignant Max, and he stared at her as she settled back down on her side. “You hit me,” he stated, “What did I do to deserve that?” he asked, and then continued before she could formulate a reply, “Nothing, that’s what.”
Her jaw dropped and Max resisted the urge to take her mouth with his own. He was the wounded party after all, and he was not going to let her win this argument just because he was helpless against her feminine charms.
“Nothing?” she repeated, voice high, “You call that deplorable statement you made to my brother, my brother of all people, ‘nothing’?!” she demanded.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded primly.
“No?” she inquired, “Then let me remind you: ‘I want you back home. In bed!" she hissed the last word.
“It was getting late,” he said, “People sleep on beds when it’s late.”
“Ooh,” she glared at him, “That wasn’t what your tone of voice implied.”
He rolled his eyes, “And what did my ‘tone of voice’ imply?”
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” she exclaimed, “and you know precisely what it implied you lecherous dragon!”
“Exactly! A dragon,” he crowed, “I’m a dragon to your kingly brother, love, not a man.” He scooched closer to her though she was still sulking. “He won’t assume anything, Liz,” he said softly, touching her arm. She looked at him, her big brown eyes still accusing. “You heard him, Liz, I’m a creature to him. A murderous beast.”
Suddenly he felt bitter. What right had this king to criticize the Crown Prince of Antar, whose blood was purer than any in the world?
“You’re not a beast, Max,” was Liz’s low assurance. She had read the hurt in his eyes, and suddenly her embarrassment seemed less important. He had stopped looking at her, burying his head in the pillow she was resting on. She reached out and ran her fingers soothingly through his soft raven hair. “You’re a caring, noble man, and I…” she trailed off, feeling abruptly shy.
He had been fighting tears. Liz had been the one thing besides his freedom, that he had desired these last few years, even before he had discovered she was real and not just a dream that had kept him from going insane. And now some ignorant, power-bloated, narrow-minded…jerk, had the nerve to try and take her from him. To tell him he was unworthy of her. Regardless that he was her brother and a good king and a fairly tolerable person if Max didn’t have to be in company with him…
“You what?” he asked, finally lifting his head. She was blushing, the light flush making her face glow. A small pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and Max was immediately focused on her soft, tempting mouth yet again.
“I…” her eyes darted back and forth and then met his determinedly, “I love you,” she declared.
For a second, the world was frozen, and then it started up again, everything in vivid clarity, from the beating of her heart, both fast and slow at the same time, and the ragged shallowness of her breathing as she waited for an answer, the blush on her cheeks, the way her eyelashes swept down against her skin, the slight movement of her dark hair as a breeze swept through the chamber.
Her body was pliant as he pulled her beneath him, her lips yielding as he plundered them. His hands tangled in her silken hair, and his body pressed against hers, sliding between her thighs.
“Max,” she gasped when his lips had finally released hers.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. He moved off of her, knowing she had been about to protest. As much as she wanted him, he knew she would stick to her principles of marriage first. Her conviction was one of the things he loved about her, as much as this particular one frustrated him.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he settled back down beside her, pulling her into a spooning position. Another tender kiss was his response. Weariness started to overcome him, and he felt his eyes droop. “Max?”
“Hmm?”
“What is your curse, exactly?”
“’Dragon by day, man by night’, Liz.” His tone was supercilious, and she very nearly bristled, but she held her temper. After all, they had just shared a very special moment, and she hadn’t been very specific in her question.
“I meant, how did you get it, and how do you end it?”
She felt him shrug. “I was caught by Teschra, an Unseelie wight. I was lucky to escape with my life, though there were many times these past ten years I did not consider myself so lucky.” His lips vibrated against her ear, as he pulled her even closer to him. “I was given an out though. I was to come to Terra d’Mortais and grant the wishes of the royal children, and one of them would be able to defeat Teschra and set me free. But Kyle was needed as king and could not be taken, and Jesse was more intellectual then physically able to defeat one of the most feared Fae-“
“And did you never think of my sisters and I?” Liz cried, twisted around to glower at him.
“You’re a woman,” he said, blinking in confusion.
A sound of distaste escaped her and she disentangled herself from his embrace, “And did it ever occur to you that women know how to wield a sword and shoot a bow? That I can certainly defend myself as well as Kyle?”
“No,” he answered honestly, “Can you?”
She stopped trying to get out of the bed and looked at him. “Well…Not quite as well, but I am capable of swordplay and archery.”
“Really?” he asked, and a wicked smile crossed his face as he reached for her and dragged her back to him. “Care to have a duel?” he inquired, innuendo obvious.
“Max!” she exclaimed, exasperated, “I can fight Teschra!”
He was suddenly serious, “No.”
“Are you doubting my skills?”
“No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Liz,” he said, cupping her chin and making her meet his eyes, “I would never risk you that way. To lose you, Liz, would be to lose my heart. It would destroy me.” Her expression softened and she leaned into his hand. “No, I’ll just wait until your brother and his wife start the next generation.”
“That could be years.”
“Then I’ll wait those years.” He didn’t understand why she was making such a big deal out of it. It was simple. As long as he had her, he wouldn’t mind how long it took to regain his freedom.
“Max…”
“Just leave it, Liz.”
Didn’t he know what would happen? He would stay as he was, and she would grow older… It made her ache to think that he would stop loving her as she became wrinkled and stooped and gray…
“Maybe we should go to Antar anyway.”
“What?”
“Well, it will be years, and it has been a long time since you were really home. What about your parents and friends? Do they know you’re alive? That you’re safe?”
Max felt frozen again, only this time it wasn’t associated with good feelings. He had never really thought about his mother and father or Rath, Vilandra, Ava, and Zan. He’d wondered how they were doing, but he’d never thought about how they’d deal with his disappearance. “I don’t know,” he said, “They…No, they wouldn’t. How could they?” He whispered.
“Then, we should go.” She’d find that Teschra, and she’d teach her that no one messed with Liz’s Max. “We’ll pack some clothing tomorrow and then the day after we’ll set out. We’ll fly by day, rest at night.” She nodded, satisfied with her plan.
“But-”
“No buts, Max, we leave in two days.” And then she cuddled close to him and closed her eyes. “Now go to sleep,” she commanded.
He sighed. “Yes, dear.”
PART TWELVE
The sun was just setting when the door to the Traveling Boot opened and a small figure in a plain brown cloak entered. The people in the downstairs tavern stopped talking, and stared at the entity now hesitating by the entrance. The Boot never got customers that weren’t native to Tapt Insel, because no one except the islanders knew Tapt Insel existed.
The cloak’s hood was pushed back by slim hands, revealing a woman’s face. Dark hair was bound up by an amber colored ribbon, and even darker eyes darted around the room until they landed on Lauri, the Boot’s sole serving girl. “Can I help you, Miss?” Lauri inquired softly.
A small smile crossed the visitor’s pink lips and she began walking forward. The women in the room sighed as the rustle of silk was heard, and the cloak’s opening revealed skirts the same color as the ribbon as the slender woman moved. “Please,” and the voice was slightly husky, perking more than one man’s attention, “I require food and lodgings.”
Lauri nodded and gestured to an empty table in a fairly private corner, and then reached for the lady’s cloak. The garment, as unremarkable as it appeared, was made of lightweight, tight knit silk with a velvet lining. Alarmed, Lauri held it carefully, not wanting to accidentally ruin it, and looked back at the woman.
“Could you bring enough for two?” the woman in yellow asked, as she seated herself gracefully in the rickety wooden chair. Lauri nodded mutely, and went to put the cloak away in a safe place. They had never had any non-island inhabitants visit the Traveling Boot, for all it’s name implied, and she was mortified about what this important lady must think about her family’s establishment.
“Aunt Meridith?”
“What is it now?” her aunt demanded, looking down her nose at her niece.
Lauri flinched and tightened her grip on the soft fabric of the mantle. “I’m going to prepare the suite at the end of the hall for the lady.”
Meridith blinked rapidly, “Lady? What lady? That suite is expensive, Lauri, and you know as well as I that no one on this damned island can afford it. You better go back to your lady,” she sneered, “and tell her so.”
Lauri trembled, thinking in her head that the only reason Meridith didn’t want anyone to have the room was because she enjoyed sleeping in it herself. Well, that room was the biggest and prettiest on all of Tapt Insel, and the Amber Lady, as Lauri would always know her as, deserved the best. She steeled her courage and met her aunt’s icy gaze for the first time in years. “Tell her ladyship, yourself.” And then she walked out, a smile coming to her lips.
Meridith stood stunned as her timid niece left the room half-running. “That little chit,” she exclaimed, and then headed down to the tavern portion of the inn, muttering about ungrateful girls. She surveyed the people sitting and drinking, until her eyes landed on an unfamiliar form sitting at a table in one of the corners near the hearth.
She strode over purposely, ignoring the denizens populating the Boot. “Are you the so-called lady?” she demanded, coming to an abrupt halt right by the visitor.
“I never claimed to be a lady,” was the calm response, spoken in a firm, well-cultured voice. Meridith bristled and straightened to her full height, looming over the smaller woman. “I apologize,” she said, voice mild, “Have I offended you in any way, ma’am?” And then she rose, the firelight glinting off her golden dress. “I saw this inn and thought it would be a good place to rest for the night, though if my business isn’t welcome, I shall take it elsewhere.”
In a matter of seconds Meridith’s eyes had assessed the worth of the young woman’s clothes, and was smiling. “No offense lady, please sit down. Lauri is preparing your suite, and dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
The mysterious lady smiled, “Thank you.” She sat back down decorously, and gazed into the light of the fire.
Meridith, however, was loath to give up contact. “How did you come by Tapt Insel, lady?”
Brown eyes glanced her way and then back. “The same way I would come by any other place, mistress innkeeper, I traveled. And…I am not a lady.” The tone of voice was dismissive, and Meridith stalked away.
The tavern was riotous, men were drinking heavily, women were gossiping and sitting on the men’s laps, and the newest addition to the Boot sat quietly in her corner while Lauri stood nearby, happy to serve her Amber Lady.
The food had been brought out, but the lady had yet to touch it much to Lauri’s chagrin. She wondered what Hal could have done wrong, her was normally such a wonderful cook. But just as she was working up the nerve to ask the lady what was amiss, Bobby, one of the islands lecherous drunkards wandered over.
“Hey, honey,” he started, voice oily, “How’s about you and me go upstairs and I-“
The crash silenced the whole inn. Bobby’s fall had luckily been broken by Fat Walt’s gut, but as he rose, it was obvious his nose was broken. Aghast, everyone turned to his attacker.
A sigh escaped the women again, only this time it was not in admiration of silk skirts. The man was brutally handsome, his black hair wind swept, and his lithe form encased in tight black garments, but it was his eyes that held the people’s attention. They were glowing the same color as the woman’s dress, golden and wild. He appeared to the islanders as a vengeful god of death.
“Who the hell are you?” Bobby challenged, too drunk to shut up for his own good, though Fat Walt and Skinny Nick were trying to shush him.
The grin that spread across the man’s striking face was frightening, his teeth were even and white, but his incisors seemed elongated. “I don’t think you want the answer to that question.”
Anger was obvious in Bobby’s demeanor as he rushed the intruder, but he was intoxicated and sluggish, and the stranger had him by the throat in an instant. “Beware,” he growled, “This dragon has very sharp teeth.” And then he flung Bobby from him, and this time the man had no soft landing.
“What is going on here?!” Meridith yelled, sweeping out from the kitchen and glaring at the broken table and Bobby rocking back and forth in pain on the stone floor. She turned her glare on the strange man, “Who are you?”
The man did not reply, but gazed steadily at the innkeeper until she looked away, unnerved by his unblinking stare. When he did speak, his voice was like black satin, dark and smooth. “We will take our food in our room,” was the imperious statement, “That is,” and he swept a disdainful look around the tavern and its inhabitants, “if one was properly prepared for us.”
As if from no where, the Amber Lady was at his side, touching his arm tenderly, and Lauri saw his face soften, his eyes losing some of their inhuman magnificence, and his stance its arrogance.
Meridith called Hal out to bring the food to the suite, ordered Lauri to escort the two travelers to it as well, and then she went to help clean up Bobby. Lauri, in awe of the unusual guests, motioned for them to follow her up the stairs. The Amber Lady trailed after her, but the Dragon, as Lauri had decided to call him after his warning to Bobby, went to the door and picked up a leather bundle before coming after the two women.
“This is lovely,” the lady exclaimed as she surveyed the room, clapping her hands in delight. Lauri blushed at the approval and gave a little curtsey. An inelegant grunt came from outside the doorway, and then the Dragon walked in, dragging the bag. Lauri slowly inched her way past him and out the door, picking up a few vestiges of their conversation as she went.
“Why did you have to pack so much?” Max complained as he dropped the bag on the bed.
Liz’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me, Mr. You-never-know-what-kind-of-weather-we’ll-run-into-you-should-probably-pack-this-and-that-and-this-too, but I was perfectly content with a pair of pants and a shirt. I certainly didn’t need the whole wardrobe!”
Max gave a sniff. “Hn. It’s not the whole wardrobe,” he mumbled, and began to tuck into the food provided. They had been flying off and on for nearly a week, and it wasn’t every night that they received a hot meal.
“Well, then, stop complaining.” And she sat across from him and started her own meal. They ate in companionable silence for a time, and then Max lifted his head to look around the room for the first time.
“Couldn’t you have picked a nicer place to stay?” he asked.
Liz gave him a look. “This from a man who’s slept in a cave for the past decade,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Not every place we stay at can be as fine as Maria and Michael’s.”
“We’ll have better accommodations at the palace,” he informed her.
“Be that as it may,” she replied, “We must reach the palace first. Until then, you’ll have to rely on my judgment.” Max was about to retort by saying something stupid that would get him in trouble, when there was a knock. “Enter,” Liz called. The serving girl, Lauri, came into the room.
“May I clear your dishes, lady? Sir?”
“Yes, thank you, Lauri.” The two were silent as she started gathering up the empty plates and cups. And when she left with another curtsey, Liz smiled. “She seems like a sweet girl.”
“Hn,” was Max’s response. He was now readying for bed. Liz followed his lead, locking the door and unlacing the back of her dress.
“How much longer until we arrive in Antar?” she inquired as they got into bed, Max drawing her against him.
“Just a few more days,” he said, “We’re at least three-quarters of the way from what I can judge.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”
She smiled softly, hoping his family would like her, and then the smile grew sad. She wondered if Maria had sent Kyle another letter. Her brother would be worried when he learned the dragon had left Terra d’Mortais.
Max’s arms tightened around her, “Sleep, love, we’ll be up at dawn tomorrow.”
Meanwhile…
Night had fallen just a bit ago, and Kyle stared out through the inky darkness toward the direction of Etang Desea. He had ridden there just a day ago, to check up on his little sister, but she was gone. He had panicked, and went straight to the next village, demanding information.
The dragon had gone over a week ago, they told him. He had blotted the sun from the sky with his great black wings, and took off toward the Lost Country over the ocean.
Despair had clung to Kyle as he traveled home. Poor Liz, always so bright and trusting... Too trusting. It seemed he had been right after all, the dragon was not a pet, it was a murdering animal. No, animal was too noble a term for a thing such as that. His heart had gotten heavier when he had told Vicki. His beloved wife had gone pale and then fainted to the floor in a graceful heap of silk and lace.
He glanced toward the bed, where Victoria now lay sleeping. He had been unable to join her, too fretful and worried to slumber. Was Elizabeth lying broken and dead in that cavern? Had the dragon eaten her whole? Had she suffered? His fists clenched, and he closed his eyes to keep from sobbing, but the feelings of sorrow and helplessness were nearly overwhelming.
And then the knock had come.
He had been furious. His wife and he had long since retired to their chambers to mourn in peace. He had given strict instructions not to be disturbed. "What?" he hissed as he swung the door open.
The messenger was breathing heavily, but held out a piece of parchment. "From...the village...of...Stone...Stonewall," he gasped out, bowing.
Kyle snatched the letter and nodded at the man. "Thank you, go to the kitchens for your pay," he ordered. The carrier bowed again and then left at a slow, halting pace. It was obvious the man had been on his feet for a long time.
Once a candle was lit, Kyle eyed the envelope. He knew no one in Stonewall, a village several days journey from the Capitol of Terra d'Mortais. Curious now, he looked at the return address, and then promptly dropped the letter.
And of course, it dropped directly onto the candle and promptly caught fire.
Cursing under his breath, Kyle grabbed it, cursing again when he burnt his fingers. He finally managed to put out the flame and risked a peek at his wife, who was snoring softly, something she would never admit to. He sighed, and studied the handwriting, thinking his mind might have been playing tricks on him. But no, the loopy, absent-minded scrawl was the familiar one of his eldest sister. Maria...
He tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out carefully, thankful only a corner had been singed in the candle mishap. Hope sprung as he saw the untidy, cramped lines. Amy always did complain about her handwriting. But could it really be her? After so many years...
Dearest Blockhead,
Yup, it was Maria all right.
How had it happened? How could she be alive? And what about Isabel and Jesse? What about Liz? Just what was that devilish dragon playing at?
As he read the missive, things began to become clear to him. Maria related to him the shock of seeing the dragon, and then the exhilarating ride through the air. She updated him on all the goings on of his other lost siblings, but it was her talk of Liz and the dragon that confused him.
…So, Lizzie stopped by with Max the other night. Apparently they’re on their way to Antar, which is where Max is originally from (can you believe he’s a Prince??), so hah, I told you those stories were real. I tell you, when Liz showed up at the inn, I was so surprised. And when Max walked in, I almost fainted! The man should be banned from existence, half my staff were incapable of performing their duties with him in the room!
Anyhoo, Liz told me my first letter hadn’t reached you (blame that damn postal service), and so, dear brother, you get another update! I am, as always, doing fabulously. My husband, Michael, and I are happy, the inn is doing well, and we’re expecting your first niece or nephew in a few months! Isn’t it exciting? Isabel’s still with her minstrel, Alex is such a doll, and I believe they planned on stopping in Terra d’Mortais soon, so you’ll be able to grill them on all their doings then. I wrote to Jesse at the monastery, telling him to write to you so that you’d stop worrying. Really, little brother, from what Lizzie said, you need to lighten up. Trying to take on Max in human form is trouble (Michael got his adorable ass whooped), never mind when he’s a dragon…
Oh! Michael’s yelling again, I have to go. I wish you and Victoria the best, give her a peck on the cheek from me!
Your beloved eldest sister,
Maria
The King of Terra d’Mortais shook his head, trying to sort out the endless babble in his sister’s epistle, and only came up with a strangled sort of exclamation, “Huh?” She seemed almost to think of this 'Max' as a man... Of course, Maria always was a bit loopy, but he couldn't credit Liz to the same flights of fancy. And her tone, when she had defended the dragon that day, was the same one any woman would use to defend her sweetheart...
But really, that was ridiculous-
Trying to take on Max in human form is trouble (Michael got his adorable ass whooped), never mind when he’s a dragon…
Human form?
"What?!" he bellowed.
Human... a Prince... 'In bed.'
A groan of realization, indignation, and pain escaped him. There was a snort, and Victoria blinked her blue eyes rapidly, staring at her husband drowsily. "What is it, darling? What ever is the matter?"
He looked at her blankly, then lay down beside her, suddenly weary as he massaged his temples. Lizzie had a lot of explaining to do. "I think I just had a stroke," he muttered.
The sun was just setting when the door to the Traveling Boot opened and a small figure in a plain brown cloak entered. The people in the downstairs tavern stopped talking, and stared at the entity now hesitating by the entrance. The Boot never got customers that weren’t native to Tapt Insel, because no one except the islanders knew Tapt Insel existed.
The cloak’s hood was pushed back by slim hands, revealing a woman’s face. Dark hair was bound up by an amber colored ribbon, and even darker eyes darted around the room until they landed on Lauri, the Boot’s sole serving girl. “Can I help you, Miss?” Lauri inquired softly.
A small smile crossed the visitor’s pink lips and she began walking forward. The women in the room sighed as the rustle of silk was heard, and the cloak’s opening revealed skirts the same color as the ribbon as the slender woman moved. “Please,” and the voice was slightly husky, perking more than one man’s attention, “I require food and lodgings.”
Lauri nodded and gestured to an empty table in a fairly private corner, and then reached for the lady’s cloak. The garment, as unremarkable as it appeared, was made of lightweight, tight knit silk with a velvet lining. Alarmed, Lauri held it carefully, not wanting to accidentally ruin it, and looked back at the woman.
“Could you bring enough for two?” the woman in yellow asked, as she seated herself gracefully in the rickety wooden chair. Lauri nodded mutely, and went to put the cloak away in a safe place. They had never had any non-island inhabitants visit the Traveling Boot, for all it’s name implied, and she was mortified about what this important lady must think about her family’s establishment.
“Aunt Meridith?”
“What is it now?” her aunt demanded, looking down her nose at her niece.
Lauri flinched and tightened her grip on the soft fabric of the mantle. “I’m going to prepare the suite at the end of the hall for the lady.”
Meridith blinked rapidly, “Lady? What lady? That suite is expensive, Lauri, and you know as well as I that no one on this damned island can afford it. You better go back to your lady,” she sneered, “and tell her so.”
Lauri trembled, thinking in her head that the only reason Meridith didn’t want anyone to have the room was because she enjoyed sleeping in it herself. Well, that room was the biggest and prettiest on all of Tapt Insel, and the Amber Lady, as Lauri would always know her as, deserved the best. She steeled her courage and met her aunt’s icy gaze for the first time in years. “Tell her ladyship, yourself.” And then she walked out, a smile coming to her lips.
Meridith stood stunned as her timid niece left the room half-running. “That little chit,” she exclaimed, and then headed down to the tavern portion of the inn, muttering about ungrateful girls. She surveyed the people sitting and drinking, until her eyes landed on an unfamiliar form sitting at a table in one of the corners near the hearth.
She strode over purposely, ignoring the denizens populating the Boot. “Are you the so-called lady?” she demanded, coming to an abrupt halt right by the visitor.
“I never claimed to be a lady,” was the calm response, spoken in a firm, well-cultured voice. Meridith bristled and straightened to her full height, looming over the smaller woman. “I apologize,” she said, voice mild, “Have I offended you in any way, ma’am?” And then she rose, the firelight glinting off her golden dress. “I saw this inn and thought it would be a good place to rest for the night, though if my business isn’t welcome, I shall take it elsewhere.”
In a matter of seconds Meridith’s eyes had assessed the worth of the young woman’s clothes, and was smiling. “No offense lady, please sit down. Lauri is preparing your suite, and dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
The mysterious lady smiled, “Thank you.” She sat back down decorously, and gazed into the light of the fire.
Meridith, however, was loath to give up contact. “How did you come by Tapt Insel, lady?”
Brown eyes glanced her way and then back. “The same way I would come by any other place, mistress innkeeper, I traveled. And…I am not a lady.” The tone of voice was dismissive, and Meridith stalked away.
The tavern was riotous, men were drinking heavily, women were gossiping and sitting on the men’s laps, and the newest addition to the Boot sat quietly in her corner while Lauri stood nearby, happy to serve her Amber Lady.
The food had been brought out, but the lady had yet to touch it much to Lauri’s chagrin. She wondered what Hal could have done wrong, her was normally such a wonderful cook. But just as she was working up the nerve to ask the lady what was amiss, Bobby, one of the islands lecherous drunkards wandered over.
“Hey, honey,” he started, voice oily, “How’s about you and me go upstairs and I-“
The crash silenced the whole inn. Bobby’s fall had luckily been broken by Fat Walt’s gut, but as he rose, it was obvious his nose was broken. Aghast, everyone turned to his attacker.
A sigh escaped the women again, only this time it was not in admiration of silk skirts. The man was brutally handsome, his black hair wind swept, and his lithe form encased in tight black garments, but it was his eyes that held the people’s attention. They were glowing the same color as the woman’s dress, golden and wild. He appeared to the islanders as a vengeful god of death.
“Who the hell are you?” Bobby challenged, too drunk to shut up for his own good, though Fat Walt and Skinny Nick were trying to shush him.
The grin that spread across the man’s striking face was frightening, his teeth were even and white, but his incisors seemed elongated. “I don’t think you want the answer to that question.”
Anger was obvious in Bobby’s demeanor as he rushed the intruder, but he was intoxicated and sluggish, and the stranger had him by the throat in an instant. “Beware,” he growled, “This dragon has very sharp teeth.” And then he flung Bobby from him, and this time the man had no soft landing.
“What is going on here?!” Meridith yelled, sweeping out from the kitchen and glaring at the broken table and Bobby rocking back and forth in pain on the stone floor. She turned her glare on the strange man, “Who are you?”
The man did not reply, but gazed steadily at the innkeeper until she looked away, unnerved by his unblinking stare. When he did speak, his voice was like black satin, dark and smooth. “We will take our food in our room,” was the imperious statement, “That is,” and he swept a disdainful look around the tavern and its inhabitants, “if one was properly prepared for us.”
As if from no where, the Amber Lady was at his side, touching his arm tenderly, and Lauri saw his face soften, his eyes losing some of their inhuman magnificence, and his stance its arrogance.
Meridith called Hal out to bring the food to the suite, ordered Lauri to escort the two travelers to it as well, and then she went to help clean up Bobby. Lauri, in awe of the unusual guests, motioned for them to follow her up the stairs. The Amber Lady trailed after her, but the Dragon, as Lauri had decided to call him after his warning to Bobby, went to the door and picked up a leather bundle before coming after the two women.
“This is lovely,” the lady exclaimed as she surveyed the room, clapping her hands in delight. Lauri blushed at the approval and gave a little curtsey. An inelegant grunt came from outside the doorway, and then the Dragon walked in, dragging the bag. Lauri slowly inched her way past him and out the door, picking up a few vestiges of their conversation as she went.
“Why did you have to pack so much?” Max complained as he dropped the bag on the bed.
Liz’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me, Mr. You-never-know-what-kind-of-weather-we’ll-run-into-you-should-probably-pack-this-and-that-and-this-too, but I was perfectly content with a pair of pants and a shirt. I certainly didn’t need the whole wardrobe!”
Max gave a sniff. “Hn. It’s not the whole wardrobe,” he mumbled, and began to tuck into the food provided. They had been flying off and on for nearly a week, and it wasn’t every night that they received a hot meal.
“Well, then, stop complaining.” And she sat across from him and started her own meal. They ate in companionable silence for a time, and then Max lifted his head to look around the room for the first time.
“Couldn’t you have picked a nicer place to stay?” he asked.
Liz gave him a look. “This from a man who’s slept in a cave for the past decade,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Not every place we stay at can be as fine as Maria and Michael’s.”
“We’ll have better accommodations at the palace,” he informed her.
“Be that as it may,” she replied, “We must reach the palace first. Until then, you’ll have to rely on my judgment.” Max was about to retort by saying something stupid that would get him in trouble, when there was a knock. “Enter,” Liz called. The serving girl, Lauri, came into the room.
“May I clear your dishes, lady? Sir?”
“Yes, thank you, Lauri.” The two were silent as she started gathering up the empty plates and cups. And when she left with another curtsey, Liz smiled. “She seems like a sweet girl.”
“Hn,” was Max’s response. He was now readying for bed. Liz followed his lead, locking the door and unlacing the back of her dress.
“How much longer until we arrive in Antar?” she inquired as they got into bed, Max drawing her against him.
“Just a few more days,” he said, “We’re at least three-quarters of the way from what I can judge.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”
She smiled softly, hoping his family would like her, and then the smile grew sad. She wondered if Maria had sent Kyle another letter. Her brother would be worried when he learned the dragon had left Terra d’Mortais.
Max’s arms tightened around her, “Sleep, love, we’ll be up at dawn tomorrow.”
Meanwhile…
Night had fallen just a bit ago, and Kyle stared out through the inky darkness toward the direction of Etang Desea. He had ridden there just a day ago, to check up on his little sister, but she was gone. He had panicked, and went straight to the next village, demanding information.
The dragon had gone over a week ago, they told him. He had blotted the sun from the sky with his great black wings, and took off toward the Lost Country over the ocean.
Despair had clung to Kyle as he traveled home. Poor Liz, always so bright and trusting... Too trusting. It seemed he had been right after all, the dragon was not a pet, it was a murdering animal. No, animal was too noble a term for a thing such as that. His heart had gotten heavier when he had told Vicki. His beloved wife had gone pale and then fainted to the floor in a graceful heap of silk and lace.
He glanced toward the bed, where Victoria now lay sleeping. He had been unable to join her, too fretful and worried to slumber. Was Elizabeth lying broken and dead in that cavern? Had the dragon eaten her whole? Had she suffered? His fists clenched, and he closed his eyes to keep from sobbing, but the feelings of sorrow and helplessness were nearly overwhelming.
And then the knock had come.
He had been furious. His wife and he had long since retired to their chambers to mourn in peace. He had given strict instructions not to be disturbed. "What?" he hissed as he swung the door open.
The messenger was breathing heavily, but held out a piece of parchment. "From...the village...of...Stone...Stonewall," he gasped out, bowing.
Kyle snatched the letter and nodded at the man. "Thank you, go to the kitchens for your pay," he ordered. The carrier bowed again and then left at a slow, halting pace. It was obvious the man had been on his feet for a long time.
Once a candle was lit, Kyle eyed the envelope. He knew no one in Stonewall, a village several days journey from the Capitol of Terra d'Mortais. Curious now, he looked at the return address, and then promptly dropped the letter.
And of course, it dropped directly onto the candle and promptly caught fire.
Cursing under his breath, Kyle grabbed it, cursing again when he burnt his fingers. He finally managed to put out the flame and risked a peek at his wife, who was snoring softly, something she would never admit to. He sighed, and studied the handwriting, thinking his mind might have been playing tricks on him. But no, the loopy, absent-minded scrawl was the familiar one of his eldest sister. Maria...
He tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out carefully, thankful only a corner had been singed in the candle mishap. Hope sprung as he saw the untidy, cramped lines. Amy always did complain about her handwriting. But could it really be her? After so many years...
Dearest Blockhead,
Yup, it was Maria all right.
How had it happened? How could she be alive? And what about Isabel and Jesse? What about Liz? Just what was that devilish dragon playing at?
As he read the missive, things began to become clear to him. Maria related to him the shock of seeing the dragon, and then the exhilarating ride through the air. She updated him on all the goings on of his other lost siblings, but it was her talk of Liz and the dragon that confused him.
…So, Lizzie stopped by with Max the other night. Apparently they’re on their way to Antar, which is where Max is originally from (can you believe he’s a Prince??), so hah, I told you those stories were real. I tell you, when Liz showed up at the inn, I was so surprised. And when Max walked in, I almost fainted! The man should be banned from existence, half my staff were incapable of performing their duties with him in the room!
Anyhoo, Liz told me my first letter hadn’t reached you (blame that damn postal service), and so, dear brother, you get another update! I am, as always, doing fabulously. My husband, Michael, and I are happy, the inn is doing well, and we’re expecting your first niece or nephew in a few months! Isn’t it exciting? Isabel’s still with her minstrel, Alex is such a doll, and I believe they planned on stopping in Terra d’Mortais soon, so you’ll be able to grill them on all their doings then. I wrote to Jesse at the monastery, telling him to write to you so that you’d stop worrying. Really, little brother, from what Lizzie said, you need to lighten up. Trying to take on Max in human form is trouble (Michael got his adorable ass whooped), never mind when he’s a dragon…
Oh! Michael’s yelling again, I have to go. I wish you and Victoria the best, give her a peck on the cheek from me!
Your beloved eldest sister,
Maria
The King of Terra d’Mortais shook his head, trying to sort out the endless babble in his sister’s epistle, and only came up with a strangled sort of exclamation, “Huh?” She seemed almost to think of this 'Max' as a man... Of course, Maria always was a bit loopy, but he couldn't credit Liz to the same flights of fancy. And her tone, when she had defended the dragon that day, was the same one any woman would use to defend her sweetheart...
But really, that was ridiculous-
Trying to take on Max in human form is trouble (Michael got his adorable ass whooped), never mind when he’s a dragon…
Human form?
"What?!" he bellowed.
Human... a Prince... 'In bed.'
A groan of realization, indignation, and pain escaped him. There was a snort, and Victoria blinked her blue eyes rapidly, staring at her husband drowsily. "What is it, darling? What ever is the matter?"
He looked at her blankly, then lay down beside her, suddenly weary as he massaged his temples. Lizzie had a lot of explaining to do. "I think I just had a stroke," he muttered.
PART THIRTEEN
The news had come by carrier pigeon from Tapt Insel. The short, hurried missive had stated simply that ‘The black dragon comes.’ The tidings had sent the country of Antar into an uproar.
A black dragon, the highest form of blessings and good fortune, had not been seen since Calphasion Evansendria had held the throne three generations before. Indeed, no dragon had been spotted since King Phillip and Queen Dianne had announced the disappearance of Prince Maxwell.
That had been a sad day for the House of the Dragon, and for all of Antar. The Prince was well-known, and well-liked, and the discovery that he had fallen prey to Teschra had been like a sword through the people’s hearts.
But the news of the coming of one of the great black dragons had caused hope to bloom once again. Surely this was a sign that Antar would return to the peaceful, joyful place it had been in the past.
Preparations were made for the triumphant arrival. A network of scouts was set up to cover all corners of Antar. A messenger was sent to the Seelie Court of Dimaras. Children were racing to see who could spot the dragon first. And the King and Queen set aside the mourning garments they had worn for nearly twelve years and donned the crimson and gold that were their House’s colors.
When the black dragon finally appeared, silence reigned throughout the land. Villagers and farmers stopped what they were doing and stared in awe as the dark form soared over their heads, the great wings cutting through the clouds as it flew to the palace.
The sunset that night was particularly beautiful, the colors of it so vibrant that Antar took it as another omen. King Phillip and Queen Dianne stood in the courtyard, hands clasped, watching the dragon descend towards them.
Dianne knew what this meant to her husband. How he believed it heralded the dawning of a new era. When the note had come, Phillip had come to life. She had smiled, laughed, but felt nothing. How could there be joy in the world with Max gone? The coming of a dragon could not bring her baby back to her. But she stood, proudly, and waited, for that was the duty of Queen.
The wings swept dust up from the cobblestone yard, causing courtiers to duck and wince. It was fearsome, this dragon, and yet Dianne felt no fear. She studied it as it settled to the ground, head still turned toward the lowering sun. There was something in its claws, they were clasped together and secured to the broad, muscled chest. Perhaps it had brought part of its treasure as a blessing?
When the large head turned, she felt some of her despair leave her. Its eyes were familiar somehow, and comforting… She felt a lump form in her throat and tears welled in her eyes. He was magnificent.
He bent slightly, laying his claws upon the ground. Suddenly, a massive leather bag was tossed at the King’s feet. The rulers stared at it. “I beg your pardons,” came an apologetic voice, and they looked up to see a young lady, brown hair windswept, making her way carefully from the dragon’s grasp. “It’s heavy. I misjudged the strength I’d need to throw it.”
They stared at her, stupefied. She smiled and bobbed down, and Dianne realized she was curtseying, though she was not wearing skirts. “Who are you, child?” she inquired as the girl rose.
A blush rose in her cheeks, “Apologies again.” She cleared her throat, “I am the Princess Elizabeth of Terra d’Mortais, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Princess? Both King and Queen continued to stare, and then Phillip cleared his throat as well. “Well then, Princess Elizabeth-“
“Just Liz, please,” she interrupted.
Phillip blinked, “Liz,” he amended, “We thank you for the honor of bringing a black dragon once again into the country of Antar, but…um…what are you doing here? Terra d’Mortais has long been separated from this continent.”
She smiled again and glanced back at the dragon, and then at the setting sun. Dianne followed her gaze, and for an instant she thought she saw the black form shift into a smaller one, but then Liz spoke again. “It is true, Terra d’Mortais is far, and this land is no more than a myth for its peoples, but I had reason, and a just cause for coming.”
“And what would that be, exactly?” Dianne asked, her attention diverted as the dragon wavered again. Phillip noticed too, as did those gathered in the courtyard, and everyone was focused on it.
Liz’s smile grew, though no one noticed. “I found someone I thought you might want returned.”
It happened right when the sun set, a flash of green washed over them, there was a cry of agony, and then it was over. A man stood where the dragon had been, dressed in clothes of the darkest black. In the violet twilight he shook his raven head, as if to clear it, and then looked up toward the three standing a few feet in front of him. His eyes, still glowing golden, locked on Dianne’s. “Mother,” he rasped.
A cry escaped her lips, and the tears were finally allowed to fall. “Max,” she gasped as she ran to him, enveloping in a loving welcome home embrace, for that was the duty of a Mother. “Oh my baby,” she murmured in his ear, “My baby.”
“I thought about you every day,” he whispered, “I love you, Mama.” His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly.
“Maxwell.”
He broke away slightly from his mother’s clinging hug. “Father.”
Phillip stood before him, and there were tears shining in his eyes as well. “Welcome home, son,” he said, as he gathered both his wife and his son into his arms.
A shout of exultation came from the crowd at the sight of the reunited family. Not just a dragon, but their lost Prince. It was truly a cause for celebration. As revelry broke out among the masses, Max walked with his parents to the castle door, stopping only to snatch Liz from where she was standing.
“Mother, Father, may I present my future wife?” he inquired as the entered the Great Hall.
“Max!” Liz exclaimed. His parents looked between them in astonishment.
“Future wife?” Phillip echoed hesitantly, looking at the foreign Princess in a new, more criticizing light. Dianne was also gave her a once over, speculation gleaming in her bright blue eyes.
“We haven’t discussed it,” Liz protested, blushing, “There is, after all, much to take in to consideration.”
“Nonsense,” Max said, “We have so discussed it.”
“When?” she demanded.
“Well, what have I been saying these past months?” he wanted to know.
She crossed her arms and gave him a level stare. “That you were going to keep me until I died.”
“Well, that’s marriage isn’t it?” he said arrogantly.
“No, it’s possession,” she countered.
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” was his exasperated retort.
“What planet are you from? You can’t possess a person Maxwell Evansendria!” she declared.
“I can so,” he announced, “And why must you always argue with me?”
“Because you insist upon it,” was her calm reply, “We are no longer living in a cave several hundred feet in the air, I’m able to storm out if you upset me. Now, if you wish me to marry you, you must ask properly.”
He sighed and got down on one knee, taking her left hand in both of his. Phillip and Dianne observed, speechless since the start of the whole exchange. “Elizabeth,” he began, looking her in the eye, “I have dreamt of you for ten years, and when you came to me, I thought I was still dreaming. But over time, I realized I was awake. I was living my dream. To be able to see you, to touch you, to tell you I love you… That was my deepest wish, and you have granted it. You made me a man again, Liz. Please, do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
She stared down at him, drowning in his eyes, which had lost their alien glow and had become a warm brown with flecks of gold sparkling in them. “Once, it seems like a lifetime ago,” she said softly, “I wished for love, and now it seems that wish has been granted. You’ve made my dreams come true as well, so yes. I will marry you Max, because I love you.”
A slow, tender smile crossed his face as he stood and kissed her. It wasn’t the deep, passionate kiss she had become accustomed to, it was just a gentle touch of his lips to hers. A promise.
Max gazed down into his betrothed’s eyes, and his own narrowed. “I know that look,” he stated, “What is it now?”
She grinned, and the glint of mischief in her dark eyes deepened. “Well, that was just one factor. We must, of course, ask your parents’ approval, and you absolutely must request Kyle’s capitulation in the matter. Then there are invitations and dress fittings, and we cannot forget decoration and entertainment, and the food…” he sighed. “And what about a ring?” she questioned, “We can’t be engaged without a ring, nor get married without one either-“
“Shush,” he ordered placing a finger to her lips, “You sound like Maria.” Her grin widened, and she kissed his finger. His eyes darkened, and he bent his head, intent on claiming what was his, when a cough made him pause. Max straightened, “Do you approve of my choice, Father? Mother?”
Dianne, who had been watching them closely, nodded. Her son was in love, and it was beautiful. Phillip, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as sure. He did not know this princess or her family. “You must take her to the Golden Court, Maxwell, and if King Zan has judged her worthiness to be your wife and future Queen, then we will consider a wedding.”
His son frowned. “I will take her to meet my friends, Father, but how Zan feels will have no bearing on this decision. Liz will be my wife.”
The two women exchanged glances at the tension growing between the two men. “Let us return to this subject at a later date,” Dianne interceded, “Max is just home, Phillip, and it is a time for rejoicing, not quibbling. “Max, you must tell us what happened to you, we’ve been so worried,” she said, and her voice held the bitter pain of a mother wondering where her only child was. If he was safe, or wounded, or lying dead in some faraway place…
Max softened, “It is a long tale, Mother, and I will have to tell you it tomorrow. I am very weary, Liz and I have had a long journey, and I believe rest is in order.”
“Of course!” Dianne exclaimed, “How senseless of me not to have noticed, you’re asleep on your feet, sweetie.” She went into mother mode, “Your chamber is as you left it.” She took Liz’s arm, “We will prepare a guest room for Liz to sleep in. This way, dear.”
“No,” and Max’s voice was hard. He tore Liz from his mother’s guiding arm and held her close. “Liz stays with me.” Dianne blinked, and felt her heart stutter as she saw her baby’s eyes go from gentle brown to feral gold in an instant.
“That is unseemly, Maxwell,” Phillip spoke up, disapproval in his tone.
A growl came from the suddenly tense young man, and Dianne put a hand to her heart. What had happened to her little boy? “She stays with me,” he repeated.
“Very well, sweetie,” Dianne appeased, shooting Phillip a warning glare, “Liz will share your room.”
His body relaxed slightly, and the humanity came back into his eyes as he looked at his mother. “I’ll go get her bag,” he said, and released Liz abruptly, striding back outside. The three left behind waited awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” Liz said, “It’s the dragon in him, it’s afraid someone will take me from him. You should have seen him at the inn we stayed at a few nights ago, he nearly went on a rampage...” She trailed off with a nervous laugh.
Dianne managed a weak smile, “I’ll have to take your word for it.” And then the deafening silence resumed.
“So…” Liz tried again, “What exactly is this Golden Court?”
The news had come by carrier pigeon from Tapt Insel. The short, hurried missive had stated simply that ‘The black dragon comes.’ The tidings had sent the country of Antar into an uproar.
A black dragon, the highest form of blessings and good fortune, had not been seen since Calphasion Evansendria had held the throne three generations before. Indeed, no dragon had been spotted since King Phillip and Queen Dianne had announced the disappearance of Prince Maxwell.
That had been a sad day for the House of the Dragon, and for all of Antar. The Prince was well-known, and well-liked, and the discovery that he had fallen prey to Teschra had been like a sword through the people’s hearts.
But the news of the coming of one of the great black dragons had caused hope to bloom once again. Surely this was a sign that Antar would return to the peaceful, joyful place it had been in the past.
Preparations were made for the triumphant arrival. A network of scouts was set up to cover all corners of Antar. A messenger was sent to the Seelie Court of Dimaras. Children were racing to see who could spot the dragon first. And the King and Queen set aside the mourning garments they had worn for nearly twelve years and donned the crimson and gold that were their House’s colors.
When the black dragon finally appeared, silence reigned throughout the land. Villagers and farmers stopped what they were doing and stared in awe as the dark form soared over their heads, the great wings cutting through the clouds as it flew to the palace.
The sunset that night was particularly beautiful, the colors of it so vibrant that Antar took it as another omen. King Phillip and Queen Dianne stood in the courtyard, hands clasped, watching the dragon descend towards them.
Dianne knew what this meant to her husband. How he believed it heralded the dawning of a new era. When the note had come, Phillip had come to life. She had smiled, laughed, but felt nothing. How could there be joy in the world with Max gone? The coming of a dragon could not bring her baby back to her. But she stood, proudly, and waited, for that was the duty of Queen.
The wings swept dust up from the cobblestone yard, causing courtiers to duck and wince. It was fearsome, this dragon, and yet Dianne felt no fear. She studied it as it settled to the ground, head still turned toward the lowering sun. There was something in its claws, they were clasped together and secured to the broad, muscled chest. Perhaps it had brought part of its treasure as a blessing?
When the large head turned, she felt some of her despair leave her. Its eyes were familiar somehow, and comforting… She felt a lump form in her throat and tears welled in her eyes. He was magnificent.
He bent slightly, laying his claws upon the ground. Suddenly, a massive leather bag was tossed at the King’s feet. The rulers stared at it. “I beg your pardons,” came an apologetic voice, and they looked up to see a young lady, brown hair windswept, making her way carefully from the dragon’s grasp. “It’s heavy. I misjudged the strength I’d need to throw it.”
They stared at her, stupefied. She smiled and bobbed down, and Dianne realized she was curtseying, though she was not wearing skirts. “Who are you, child?” she inquired as the girl rose.
A blush rose in her cheeks, “Apologies again.” She cleared her throat, “I am the Princess Elizabeth of Terra d’Mortais, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Princess? Both King and Queen continued to stare, and then Phillip cleared his throat as well. “Well then, Princess Elizabeth-“
“Just Liz, please,” she interrupted.
Phillip blinked, “Liz,” he amended, “We thank you for the honor of bringing a black dragon once again into the country of Antar, but…um…what are you doing here? Terra d’Mortais has long been separated from this continent.”
She smiled again and glanced back at the dragon, and then at the setting sun. Dianne followed her gaze, and for an instant she thought she saw the black form shift into a smaller one, but then Liz spoke again. “It is true, Terra d’Mortais is far, and this land is no more than a myth for its peoples, but I had reason, and a just cause for coming.”
“And what would that be, exactly?” Dianne asked, her attention diverted as the dragon wavered again. Phillip noticed too, as did those gathered in the courtyard, and everyone was focused on it.
Liz’s smile grew, though no one noticed. “I found someone I thought you might want returned.”
It happened right when the sun set, a flash of green washed over them, there was a cry of agony, and then it was over. A man stood where the dragon had been, dressed in clothes of the darkest black. In the violet twilight he shook his raven head, as if to clear it, and then looked up toward the three standing a few feet in front of him. His eyes, still glowing golden, locked on Dianne’s. “Mother,” he rasped.
A cry escaped her lips, and the tears were finally allowed to fall. “Max,” she gasped as she ran to him, enveloping in a loving welcome home embrace, for that was the duty of a Mother. “Oh my baby,” she murmured in his ear, “My baby.”
“I thought about you every day,” he whispered, “I love you, Mama.” His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly.
“Maxwell.”
He broke away slightly from his mother’s clinging hug. “Father.”
Phillip stood before him, and there were tears shining in his eyes as well. “Welcome home, son,” he said, as he gathered both his wife and his son into his arms.
A shout of exultation came from the crowd at the sight of the reunited family. Not just a dragon, but their lost Prince. It was truly a cause for celebration. As revelry broke out among the masses, Max walked with his parents to the castle door, stopping only to snatch Liz from where she was standing.
“Mother, Father, may I present my future wife?” he inquired as the entered the Great Hall.
“Max!” Liz exclaimed. His parents looked between them in astonishment.
“Future wife?” Phillip echoed hesitantly, looking at the foreign Princess in a new, more criticizing light. Dianne was also gave her a once over, speculation gleaming in her bright blue eyes.
“We haven’t discussed it,” Liz protested, blushing, “There is, after all, much to take in to consideration.”
“Nonsense,” Max said, “We have so discussed it.”
“When?” she demanded.
“Well, what have I been saying these past months?” he wanted to know.
She crossed her arms and gave him a level stare. “That you were going to keep me until I died.”
“Well, that’s marriage isn’t it?” he said arrogantly.
“No, it’s possession,” she countered.
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” was his exasperated retort.
“What planet are you from? You can’t possess a person Maxwell Evansendria!” she declared.
“I can so,” he announced, “And why must you always argue with me?”
“Because you insist upon it,” was her calm reply, “We are no longer living in a cave several hundred feet in the air, I’m able to storm out if you upset me. Now, if you wish me to marry you, you must ask properly.”
He sighed and got down on one knee, taking her left hand in both of his. Phillip and Dianne observed, speechless since the start of the whole exchange. “Elizabeth,” he began, looking her in the eye, “I have dreamt of you for ten years, and when you came to me, I thought I was still dreaming. But over time, I realized I was awake. I was living my dream. To be able to see you, to touch you, to tell you I love you… That was my deepest wish, and you have granted it. You made me a man again, Liz. Please, do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
She stared down at him, drowning in his eyes, which had lost their alien glow and had become a warm brown with flecks of gold sparkling in them. “Once, it seems like a lifetime ago,” she said softly, “I wished for love, and now it seems that wish has been granted. You’ve made my dreams come true as well, so yes. I will marry you Max, because I love you.”
A slow, tender smile crossed his face as he stood and kissed her. It wasn’t the deep, passionate kiss she had become accustomed to, it was just a gentle touch of his lips to hers. A promise.
Max gazed down into his betrothed’s eyes, and his own narrowed. “I know that look,” he stated, “What is it now?”
She grinned, and the glint of mischief in her dark eyes deepened. “Well, that was just one factor. We must, of course, ask your parents’ approval, and you absolutely must request Kyle’s capitulation in the matter. Then there are invitations and dress fittings, and we cannot forget decoration and entertainment, and the food…” he sighed. “And what about a ring?” she questioned, “We can’t be engaged without a ring, nor get married without one either-“
“Shush,” he ordered placing a finger to her lips, “You sound like Maria.” Her grin widened, and she kissed his finger. His eyes darkened, and he bent his head, intent on claiming what was his, when a cough made him pause. Max straightened, “Do you approve of my choice, Father? Mother?”
Dianne, who had been watching them closely, nodded. Her son was in love, and it was beautiful. Phillip, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as sure. He did not know this princess or her family. “You must take her to the Golden Court, Maxwell, and if King Zan has judged her worthiness to be your wife and future Queen, then we will consider a wedding.”
His son frowned. “I will take her to meet my friends, Father, but how Zan feels will have no bearing on this decision. Liz will be my wife.”
The two women exchanged glances at the tension growing between the two men. “Let us return to this subject at a later date,” Dianne interceded, “Max is just home, Phillip, and it is a time for rejoicing, not quibbling. “Max, you must tell us what happened to you, we’ve been so worried,” she said, and her voice held the bitter pain of a mother wondering where her only child was. If he was safe, or wounded, or lying dead in some faraway place…
Max softened, “It is a long tale, Mother, and I will have to tell you it tomorrow. I am very weary, Liz and I have had a long journey, and I believe rest is in order.”
“Of course!” Dianne exclaimed, “How senseless of me not to have noticed, you’re asleep on your feet, sweetie.” She went into mother mode, “Your chamber is as you left it.” She took Liz’s arm, “We will prepare a guest room for Liz to sleep in. This way, dear.”
“No,” and Max’s voice was hard. He tore Liz from his mother’s guiding arm and held her close. “Liz stays with me.” Dianne blinked, and felt her heart stutter as she saw her baby’s eyes go from gentle brown to feral gold in an instant.
“That is unseemly, Maxwell,” Phillip spoke up, disapproval in his tone.
A growl came from the suddenly tense young man, and Dianne put a hand to her heart. What had happened to her little boy? “She stays with me,” he repeated.
“Very well, sweetie,” Dianne appeased, shooting Phillip a warning glare, “Liz will share your room.”
His body relaxed slightly, and the humanity came back into his eyes as he looked at his mother. “I’ll go get her bag,” he said, and released Liz abruptly, striding back outside. The three left behind waited awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” Liz said, “It’s the dragon in him, it’s afraid someone will take me from him. You should have seen him at the inn we stayed at a few nights ago, he nearly went on a rampage...” She trailed off with a nervous laugh.
Dianne managed a weak smile, “I’ll have to take your word for it.” And then the deafening silence resumed.
“So…” Liz tried again, “What exactly is this Golden Court?”
PART FOURTEEN
“’The Golden Court of Dimaras has been ruled for the last five centuries by King Zan and Queen Ava’,” Liz quoted as she flipped the page of the history book, “Five centuries! How can anyone stand to be alive that long?” She looked up at Max from where she was seated on his forearm. He didn’t answer. A sigh escaped her and she went back to her reading. “The King’s sister…”
Max listened to her gentle murmur as she read aloud from a book that he hadn’t picked up since he was eight. It was the one that had led him to seek out the faeries in the first place. And Liz’s question had burned on his lips all the way to Dimaras, causing him to ignore all political courtesies and run to the base of the golden throne, startling Zan with his forwardness.
Thinking back now, such boldness would have been punished severely if Zan hadn’t taken an instant liking to the young boy staring so earnestly up at him. He shifted his head slightly so that he was in a better position to look at his intended bride. He loved the way her face lit up at every new piece of information she read, and the way her face scrunched up when she was trying to figure out a problem. Her complete focus on the small leather history book was fascinating.
Why would anyone want to live for so many centuries? Zan had said that faerie time was different than human time, that a century to Max was a matter of hours to him and his kind. Liz moved, reclining more fully against him, and he was captivated by her every movement. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
The grim reality hit him then. If he didn’t find Teschra and destroy her, he would eventually lose Liz. She would grow older without him and die, leaving him alone. Despair shook him. He could stay alive for five centuries or more, never aging, with those he loved dying around him...
His mother’s movements inside the castle tickled his dragon senses. She had gotten older. Sometimes he forgot he had been gone for so many years. He had been surprised to see the gray decorated her bright blond hair, surprised to feel how frail she was, surprised that she was over fifty.
He had come to hate change in the last day he had been home. There was so much of it everywhere. It had overwhelmed him last night, the fact that he was home and that he felt so alien here. Liz had held him as he sobbed, soothed him. Told him to take time and reacquaint himself with his Antar bit by bit until his world started making sense again.
But there had been no time. This morning the change had happened, and his mother and father had woken to a black dragon sitting again in their courtyard with the foreign princess nestled against him, having fallen back to sleep after she had dressed and joined him there.
Their shock was expected, and their silence as he haltingly, in his slurred and hissing voice told them his story. Explained to them what had actually befallen him and where he had been these past twelve years, and when he had trouble Liz was right there, helping them understand his words, helping them cope. His mother had been pale when his father escorted her back to her rooms. And then Phillip had returned with the book for Liz and a promise of allegiance for his son in Max’s quest to annihilate the Unseelie witch.
It had heartened him a bit, but there were repercussions to this homecoming that Max was only just beginning to realize.
“I told you to stay away from sweets.”
Alarmed, Max made to whip around, but then remembered Liz’s presence and calmed down. But his head thrashed around, golden eyes whirling. Liz, hand on her rapidly beating heart, peered around him to look at the strange man that was examining Max. “I beg your pardon?” she said.
He looked at her and smiled, his teeth blindingly white. “Sweets,” he said, his voice like velvet wrapped gravel, hypnotic, “I warned him what they would do to his figure. Did he listen?” There was a grin, “Of course not.” He slapped Max’s hide, “Kids these days. Think they know everything.”
Max, finally managing to lower his right wing enough to get a good view of the intruder, relaxed. Liz was confused. This man was no older than Max, and yet he acted like a scolding parent. And he was dressed in a decidedly odd fashion. His pants were bright green and he wore no shirt, just a violet jacket with tails that reached the back of his knees, and he wasn’t wearing shoes. And his hair- it was short and spiked on top, but the rest fell straight and shining to just below his broad shoulders.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The man turned his attention from the staring contest he was having with Max and looked at her, winking. His gray-brown eyes were full of mischief. “My apologies Lady.” He strode to where she was now standing on Max’s arm and knelt down, taking her hands and, to her wide-eyed surprise, kissing them. “I am Rath.”
There was a disgruntled snort from above and a smoke ring suddenly enveloped the over-amorous man. “Imbecile.”
He waved it away without a second thought and sprung back to his feet, grinning. “Good to have you back, Max. Zan’s politely asked me to request an audience with you as soon as you are available to comply.”
“Really?” And the question was asked in an amused tone of voice. Liz looked from one to the other, slowly putting the pieces together. Rath was mentioned in the book she was reading, and she realized that this roguish man was the Commander of the Seelie Court’s warriors.
Another wink. “Well, he phrased it much more diplomatically, I think it somewhere along the lines of ‘Drag that presumptuous ass here now!’ though I might’ve lost the exact wording in translation… But you get the point.” He was grinning even more widely now. “You want to go now or make him simmer a bit?”
Max looked down at Liz, who was gazing at him expectantly. He did want Zan to meet Liz. And maybe Zan would know where to find Teschra. Then Max could confront her, break the curse, and marry Liz as soon as possible. “We’ll leaff now, we ssshould reach the sssithin by nightfall. That will work out bessst.” He gave a sharp nod. “Yesss, now is bessst.” Rising, he scooped up Liz in one paw and looked down at Rath. “Ride?”
His friend shook his head. “No, I’ll return and have them prepare everything for your arrival.” And then he disappeared.
Liz, peering between his claws, gasped. Max chuckled as he leapt into the air, the updrafts catching his spread wings and propelling them upward. “Faerie magic,” he told her.
The flight to the faerie mounds took the last few hours of daylight that were left, and as Max touched ground between the grassy sithin, he felt the acute agony shudder through his body. He had just enough time to place Liz on the ground before he transformed.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around. There was nothing to see but hills covered in green grass.
“The sithin,” Max told her. He took her arm and led her forward, and suddenly there was light.
Blinking rapidly, Liz could hardly believe her eyes. It was breathtakingly divine. There were people everywhere; laughing, talking, dancing, singing…There were even tiny winged people, leaving glittering trails in their wake as they flew by. And everything looked as if it had been touched by the sun. They were all glowing.
She turned to Max, who was watching her as she took in her surroundings. She smiled at him, exhilaration coursing through her. A half-smile worked it’s way to his lips and he ran a finger down her arm. She followed the gesture, watching as a path of shimmering light sparked over her skin. A gasp of delight escaped her, and she lifted a hand to try the same thing on him, but they were interrupted.
“Prince Maxwell, it’s good to have you home.”
The couple turned at the welcoming phrase. A woman stood in front of them, and Liz felt her jaw drop with envy. She was more exquisite than Isabel. Golden waves of hair fell to her ankles, her skin shone white-gold, her lips were full and red, and her eyes were a smoky brown ringed by long, thick, dark lashes.
“Vilandra,” Max greeted, and there was joy in his tone. He embraced her tightly, and Liz knew she should feel jealous of their familiarity when this Vilandra, the King’s sister the book said, was so very lovely. But Liz could tell instinctively that the beauty of her body and the sultriness of her laughter was inherent. Something Vilandra was not aware of. “It’s good to see you. May I introduce my betrothed? The Princess Elizabeth of Terra d’Mortais. Liz,” he said, pulling her toward them, “This is Lonnie.” A delicate throat cleared and Max rolled his eyes, “The Princess Vilandra of the Seelie Court of Dimaras. Happy now?” he finished plaintively.
Vilandra ignored him. “It is good to meet you Princess Elizabeth. Terra d’Mortais is not forgotten in our Court, though it has abandoned the old ways.”
Liz felt a blush stain her cheeks. “Its just Liz, please Prin-“ she cut off at the other woman’s arched eyebrow, “Vilandra.” There was a nod of approval from the tall faerie and then she turned speculative eyes on Max.
“My brother is most anxious to welcome you, Maxwell. He wishes to hear of your journey and pledges all his aid.” She glanced at Liz quickly and smiled secretively, “He will be gladdened to hear of your betrothal. Come.” And she started walking forward, expecting Max and Liz to follow, which they did obediently. The crowd of faeries parted for them, hailing the returned Prince. Max just smiled and waved, knowing he would speak to those he knew after Zan had had his say.
Liz stayed quiet, watching everything with wide eyes. Such magnificence was hard for her to dream of, though she had often as a child when she went to sleep after reading a forbidden fairy story. She could hardly believe any of what had happened to her over the past month was real. But then her eyes met Max’s amber ones, and they softened with love. And she knew this was real. Their hands found each other on the short trek to the golden thrones placed regally on the dais.
So this was the King and Queen of the faerie court? Liz stared unabashedly, and they stared back, eyes inscrutable.
Queen Ava was possible the smallest person in the room besides Liz and the miniature people. Her feet just brushed the floor from where she was sitting, her dress was made of some diaphanous material that shimmered pink one moment and then blood red. She had pale skin and pink lips and eyes of blue-violet, and her hair was white with just a touch of gold. It was put up in an intricate fashion of braids and curls which wove in and out of the glittering tiara and framed her porcelain face.
King Zan was dressed in white. His face was youthful for a man of more than five hundred years, his eyes a dark gray that burned silver around the edges, and his hair fell to his waist, darker even than Max’s. And when he turned his head to regard the pair his sister brought before him, light gleamed off tiny gems in the pitch-blackness of his hair, making them glitter like starlight in the night.
“Maxwell, We give you welcome.” His voice was soothing, soft, as if he never had to raise it to be heard. And he didn’t, for the entire gathering had become silent when the King rose.
“I accept your welcome with a joyous heart, King Zan,” Max returned formally, bowing. Liz dropped a curtsey, the lowest one she had ever performed in her life, and we thankful she had worn one of her finer dresses today.
“And who is this?” Zan inquired, watching the young woman with curiosity. Max never brought women to his court. Not that the young prince had been involved with that many, but still…The favor of the faerie court was a heady thing for youth trying to impress a woman he desires. But Max had never attempted such an action.
He had asked about it once, the day before Max disappeared. The prince had thought hard and was silent for a long time before he answered the king. “The only woman I will bring into your presence Zan, is the one worthy to be my Queen. My partner for life. This place is too sacred to me to share it with someone who would not understand, not appreciate, the significance.”
And now Max had reappeared, and brought a woman into Zan’s company. A woman with awe and respect and felicity in her eyes when she met the king’s. A woman who’s eyes reflected love and wonder when she met Max’s. This was Max’s chosen Queen. His chosen for life. Well, it was about damn time.
A shy smile lit up her face, illuminating her entire being, and Zan could read the soul that had entranced his young friend in her big brown eyes. “I am called Liz, your majesty,” she informed him.
Max snorted, “Just call him Zan, everyone else does.” He grinned at the now mock-frowning faerie king. “Ava, you look weary.”
Ava smiled briefly, tired, but she let Max kiss her cheek. “My husband keeps me from getting to bed early.”
“We go to bed plenty early,” Zan said, looking hurt, and then he grinned slyly, exchanging glances with Max, “We just don’t get that much sleep.” The two men laughed, and Liz and Ava shook their heads. A gesture was made, and another chair was brought to the dais. “Tell us all that happened, Max. If we are to discover the center of Teschra’s mischief, we may find her lair, for she has been exiled from the Unseelie court as well as ours.”
Max made to sit down, but paused, looking at Liz anxiously. She gave him a gentle smile of permission and took her leave, wanting to explore this new and interesting world.
Liz wandered around for awhile, eavesdropping shamelessly on conversations and watching the three people on dais as they interacted. She spotted Vilandra dancing with Rath several times, and pondered whether their relationship had progressed from the years since the history book was written. These people held immortality, did things move more slowly in their world? Love as well as time?
“Are you lost?”
Startled from her speculations, Liz met the eyes of the inquisitor. She was as unearthly attractive as the other faeries, with blonde curls and white skin and pouty pink lips. It was her eyes that were so distinct. They were three different colors.
“I’m not lost,” Liz informed her, “Just watching.”
She smiled prettily, “I’m Tess.”
“Liz.”
“You came with the dragon prince?” Tess continued conversationally.
“Yes, I came with Max,” Liz confirmed.
Remarkably, a smile split those perfect pink lips that made Liz tremble. “Good.”
And then all went black.
“’The Golden Court of Dimaras has been ruled for the last five centuries by King Zan and Queen Ava’,” Liz quoted as she flipped the page of the history book, “Five centuries! How can anyone stand to be alive that long?” She looked up at Max from where she was seated on his forearm. He didn’t answer. A sigh escaped her and she went back to her reading. “The King’s sister…”
Max listened to her gentle murmur as she read aloud from a book that he hadn’t picked up since he was eight. It was the one that had led him to seek out the faeries in the first place. And Liz’s question had burned on his lips all the way to Dimaras, causing him to ignore all political courtesies and run to the base of the golden throne, startling Zan with his forwardness.
Thinking back now, such boldness would have been punished severely if Zan hadn’t taken an instant liking to the young boy staring so earnestly up at him. He shifted his head slightly so that he was in a better position to look at his intended bride. He loved the way her face lit up at every new piece of information she read, and the way her face scrunched up when she was trying to figure out a problem. Her complete focus on the small leather history book was fascinating.
Why would anyone want to live for so many centuries? Zan had said that faerie time was different than human time, that a century to Max was a matter of hours to him and his kind. Liz moved, reclining more fully against him, and he was captivated by her every movement. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
The grim reality hit him then. If he didn’t find Teschra and destroy her, he would eventually lose Liz. She would grow older without him and die, leaving him alone. Despair shook him. He could stay alive for five centuries or more, never aging, with those he loved dying around him...
His mother’s movements inside the castle tickled his dragon senses. She had gotten older. Sometimes he forgot he had been gone for so many years. He had been surprised to see the gray decorated her bright blond hair, surprised to feel how frail she was, surprised that she was over fifty.
He had come to hate change in the last day he had been home. There was so much of it everywhere. It had overwhelmed him last night, the fact that he was home and that he felt so alien here. Liz had held him as he sobbed, soothed him. Told him to take time and reacquaint himself with his Antar bit by bit until his world started making sense again.
But there had been no time. This morning the change had happened, and his mother and father had woken to a black dragon sitting again in their courtyard with the foreign princess nestled against him, having fallen back to sleep after she had dressed and joined him there.
Their shock was expected, and their silence as he haltingly, in his slurred and hissing voice told them his story. Explained to them what had actually befallen him and where he had been these past twelve years, and when he had trouble Liz was right there, helping them understand his words, helping them cope. His mother had been pale when his father escorted her back to her rooms. And then Phillip had returned with the book for Liz and a promise of allegiance for his son in Max’s quest to annihilate the Unseelie witch.
It had heartened him a bit, but there were repercussions to this homecoming that Max was only just beginning to realize.
“I told you to stay away from sweets.”
Alarmed, Max made to whip around, but then remembered Liz’s presence and calmed down. But his head thrashed around, golden eyes whirling. Liz, hand on her rapidly beating heart, peered around him to look at the strange man that was examining Max. “I beg your pardon?” she said.
He looked at her and smiled, his teeth blindingly white. “Sweets,” he said, his voice like velvet wrapped gravel, hypnotic, “I warned him what they would do to his figure. Did he listen?” There was a grin, “Of course not.” He slapped Max’s hide, “Kids these days. Think they know everything.”
Max, finally managing to lower his right wing enough to get a good view of the intruder, relaxed. Liz was confused. This man was no older than Max, and yet he acted like a scolding parent. And he was dressed in a decidedly odd fashion. His pants were bright green and he wore no shirt, just a violet jacket with tails that reached the back of his knees, and he wasn’t wearing shoes. And his hair- it was short and spiked on top, but the rest fell straight and shining to just below his broad shoulders.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The man turned his attention from the staring contest he was having with Max and looked at her, winking. His gray-brown eyes were full of mischief. “My apologies Lady.” He strode to where she was now standing on Max’s arm and knelt down, taking her hands and, to her wide-eyed surprise, kissing them. “I am Rath.”
There was a disgruntled snort from above and a smoke ring suddenly enveloped the over-amorous man. “Imbecile.”
He waved it away without a second thought and sprung back to his feet, grinning. “Good to have you back, Max. Zan’s politely asked me to request an audience with you as soon as you are available to comply.”
“Really?” And the question was asked in an amused tone of voice. Liz looked from one to the other, slowly putting the pieces together. Rath was mentioned in the book she was reading, and she realized that this roguish man was the Commander of the Seelie Court’s warriors.
Another wink. “Well, he phrased it much more diplomatically, I think it somewhere along the lines of ‘Drag that presumptuous ass here now!’ though I might’ve lost the exact wording in translation… But you get the point.” He was grinning even more widely now. “You want to go now or make him simmer a bit?”
Max looked down at Liz, who was gazing at him expectantly. He did want Zan to meet Liz. And maybe Zan would know where to find Teschra. Then Max could confront her, break the curse, and marry Liz as soon as possible. “We’ll leaff now, we ssshould reach the sssithin by nightfall. That will work out bessst.” He gave a sharp nod. “Yesss, now is bessst.” Rising, he scooped up Liz in one paw and looked down at Rath. “Ride?”
His friend shook his head. “No, I’ll return and have them prepare everything for your arrival.” And then he disappeared.
Liz, peering between his claws, gasped. Max chuckled as he leapt into the air, the updrafts catching his spread wings and propelling them upward. “Faerie magic,” he told her.
The flight to the faerie mounds took the last few hours of daylight that were left, and as Max touched ground between the grassy sithin, he felt the acute agony shudder through his body. He had just enough time to place Liz on the ground before he transformed.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around. There was nothing to see but hills covered in green grass.
“The sithin,” Max told her. He took her arm and led her forward, and suddenly there was light.
Blinking rapidly, Liz could hardly believe her eyes. It was breathtakingly divine. There were people everywhere; laughing, talking, dancing, singing…There were even tiny winged people, leaving glittering trails in their wake as they flew by. And everything looked as if it had been touched by the sun. They were all glowing.
She turned to Max, who was watching her as she took in her surroundings. She smiled at him, exhilaration coursing through her. A half-smile worked it’s way to his lips and he ran a finger down her arm. She followed the gesture, watching as a path of shimmering light sparked over her skin. A gasp of delight escaped her, and she lifted a hand to try the same thing on him, but they were interrupted.
“Prince Maxwell, it’s good to have you home.”
The couple turned at the welcoming phrase. A woman stood in front of them, and Liz felt her jaw drop with envy. She was more exquisite than Isabel. Golden waves of hair fell to her ankles, her skin shone white-gold, her lips were full and red, and her eyes were a smoky brown ringed by long, thick, dark lashes.
“Vilandra,” Max greeted, and there was joy in his tone. He embraced her tightly, and Liz knew she should feel jealous of their familiarity when this Vilandra, the King’s sister the book said, was so very lovely. But Liz could tell instinctively that the beauty of her body and the sultriness of her laughter was inherent. Something Vilandra was not aware of. “It’s good to see you. May I introduce my betrothed? The Princess Elizabeth of Terra d’Mortais. Liz,” he said, pulling her toward them, “This is Lonnie.” A delicate throat cleared and Max rolled his eyes, “The Princess Vilandra of the Seelie Court of Dimaras. Happy now?” he finished plaintively.
Vilandra ignored him. “It is good to meet you Princess Elizabeth. Terra d’Mortais is not forgotten in our Court, though it has abandoned the old ways.”
Liz felt a blush stain her cheeks. “Its just Liz, please Prin-“ she cut off at the other woman’s arched eyebrow, “Vilandra.” There was a nod of approval from the tall faerie and then she turned speculative eyes on Max.
“My brother is most anxious to welcome you, Maxwell. He wishes to hear of your journey and pledges all his aid.” She glanced at Liz quickly and smiled secretively, “He will be gladdened to hear of your betrothal. Come.” And she started walking forward, expecting Max and Liz to follow, which they did obediently. The crowd of faeries parted for them, hailing the returned Prince. Max just smiled and waved, knowing he would speak to those he knew after Zan had had his say.
Liz stayed quiet, watching everything with wide eyes. Such magnificence was hard for her to dream of, though she had often as a child when she went to sleep after reading a forbidden fairy story. She could hardly believe any of what had happened to her over the past month was real. But then her eyes met Max’s amber ones, and they softened with love. And she knew this was real. Their hands found each other on the short trek to the golden thrones placed regally on the dais.
So this was the King and Queen of the faerie court? Liz stared unabashedly, and they stared back, eyes inscrutable.
Queen Ava was possible the smallest person in the room besides Liz and the miniature people. Her feet just brushed the floor from where she was sitting, her dress was made of some diaphanous material that shimmered pink one moment and then blood red. She had pale skin and pink lips and eyes of blue-violet, and her hair was white with just a touch of gold. It was put up in an intricate fashion of braids and curls which wove in and out of the glittering tiara and framed her porcelain face.
King Zan was dressed in white. His face was youthful for a man of more than five hundred years, his eyes a dark gray that burned silver around the edges, and his hair fell to his waist, darker even than Max’s. And when he turned his head to regard the pair his sister brought before him, light gleamed off tiny gems in the pitch-blackness of his hair, making them glitter like starlight in the night.
“Maxwell, We give you welcome.” His voice was soothing, soft, as if he never had to raise it to be heard. And he didn’t, for the entire gathering had become silent when the King rose.
“I accept your welcome with a joyous heart, King Zan,” Max returned formally, bowing. Liz dropped a curtsey, the lowest one she had ever performed in her life, and we thankful she had worn one of her finer dresses today.
“And who is this?” Zan inquired, watching the young woman with curiosity. Max never brought women to his court. Not that the young prince had been involved with that many, but still…The favor of the faerie court was a heady thing for youth trying to impress a woman he desires. But Max had never attempted such an action.
He had asked about it once, the day before Max disappeared. The prince had thought hard and was silent for a long time before he answered the king. “The only woman I will bring into your presence Zan, is the one worthy to be my Queen. My partner for life. This place is too sacred to me to share it with someone who would not understand, not appreciate, the significance.”
And now Max had reappeared, and brought a woman into Zan’s company. A woman with awe and respect and felicity in her eyes when she met the king’s. A woman who’s eyes reflected love and wonder when she met Max’s. This was Max’s chosen Queen. His chosen for life. Well, it was about damn time.
A shy smile lit up her face, illuminating her entire being, and Zan could read the soul that had entranced his young friend in her big brown eyes. “I am called Liz, your majesty,” she informed him.
Max snorted, “Just call him Zan, everyone else does.” He grinned at the now mock-frowning faerie king. “Ava, you look weary.”
Ava smiled briefly, tired, but she let Max kiss her cheek. “My husband keeps me from getting to bed early.”
“We go to bed plenty early,” Zan said, looking hurt, and then he grinned slyly, exchanging glances with Max, “We just don’t get that much sleep.” The two men laughed, and Liz and Ava shook their heads. A gesture was made, and another chair was brought to the dais. “Tell us all that happened, Max. If we are to discover the center of Teschra’s mischief, we may find her lair, for she has been exiled from the Unseelie court as well as ours.”
Max made to sit down, but paused, looking at Liz anxiously. She gave him a gentle smile of permission and took her leave, wanting to explore this new and interesting world.
Liz wandered around for awhile, eavesdropping shamelessly on conversations and watching the three people on dais as they interacted. She spotted Vilandra dancing with Rath several times, and pondered whether their relationship had progressed from the years since the history book was written. These people held immortality, did things move more slowly in their world? Love as well as time?
“Are you lost?”
Startled from her speculations, Liz met the eyes of the inquisitor. She was as unearthly attractive as the other faeries, with blonde curls and white skin and pouty pink lips. It was her eyes that were so distinct. They were three different colors.
“I’m not lost,” Liz informed her, “Just watching.”
She smiled prettily, “I’m Tess.”
“Liz.”
“You came with the dragon prince?” Tess continued conversationally.
“Yes, I came with Max,” Liz confirmed.
Remarkably, a smile split those perfect pink lips that made Liz tremble. “Good.”
And then all went black.
Part Fifteen
The rampage had been devastating.
When the taint of Unseelie magic had diffused through the room, the entire Court had frozen. The demifey, Zan’s most competent and reliable hunters, had identified the taint as the Reaper’s. Max, upon hearing Teschra’s title, had gone pale, his eyes taking on an alien hue, and demanded Liz’s presence.
When the smallest members of the Golden Court had politely informed the King and his guest that the human princess had gone missing, Max had exploded.
The roar of agony that had escaped him had a hitch to it that no human throat could produce.
Uneasiness had swept through Zan as he heard a distinct cracking, as if bones were being broken and remolded. He had stared at Max, eyes widening at the sight of the prince’s skin rippling beneath the surface, as if something was fighting to break free. He then tried to calm his friend, but it was to no avail.
The dragon had torn the man apart.
It had been a truly horrifying sight. And then chaos had reigned. Faeries had been screaming, scrambling to get out of the large creature’s path as he moved. It had taken several subduing spells for different members of the Court to contain the dragon.
Now, Zan stood off to one side, his magick slowly being drained. His Queen stood nearby, looking more and more haggard. Vilandra, the depletion showing her true beauty, was sitting, her eyes watching the thrashing dragon warily. Rath, displaying no effects of the spell on his power was jumping back and forth over Max’s tail, irritating him.
“Max,” Zan said softly, soothingly, as he moved into his friend’s line of sight. Pupil-less eyes glared at him, no recognition evident. “Max, it’s me, Zan. I’m your friend. You need to calm down, Max. You need to take control.”
The eyes whirled, and Zan was forced to jump ungracefully out of the way as the large head shot forward to take a bite out of him. “Ah-ah, that’s not nice,” came Rath’s ever-cheerful voice. He strengthened his holding wards, forcing Max’s head to the ruptured ground, where the dragon tried to blast him, but only managed smoke rings. Rath laughed.
“Rath,” Zan reprimanded, “Do not tease him, this is serious. We cannot hold him here indefinitely. Already it is exhausting us. If Max cannot control the beast, Antar may suffer dire consequences, and the Princess Liz may lose her life.”
There was a wrenching, and Max was suddenly moving freely. “Where isss Lizz. Giff her back to me, now,” he ordered, hissing menacingly. “I want Lizz.” One claw came forward, pawing at the ground and shredding the gold-veined marble. Zan winced. It was quite obvious that Max was spoiling for a fight.
“Teschra has her, Max,” Zan told him gently, “You remember, my demifey are tracking them as we speak.”
The King was again subjected to that golden glare. There was some intelligence back in those eyes, but it was more serpentine than human. “Tessschra will pay,” the dragon stated, fire licking between his fangs in his anger.
“Yes,” Zan agreed, in deadly earnest, “She will pay dearly.” Their eyes met, silver and gold clashing, and the faerie saw something of his young friend seep into the dragon’s demeanor.
“Ahem, Majesty?” Eye contact was broken as Zan turned in response to the tiny voice of one of his Court’s subjects. The demifey bowed, wings beating frantically. “We traced the taint to Abrigar, King Zan,” she reported.
Zan blanched, Abrigar was Unseelie territory, and those of the Ebon Court did not appreciate Seelie interference. Even if Teschra was banished, they would not allow the Golden Court to go unpunished. And Zan was not sure his people could stand against all the sadistic horrors King Khivar would attempt to unleash upon them.
“Thank you,” he said to the messenger, and then turned back to Max, but he was already gone. “I wish you luck, friend,” he whispered sadly, as the silhouette of a black dragon blocked out the sinking moon.
Dawn was approaching. She could make out the glimmer of lightness on the horizon. “The dragon prince did not choose his savior wisely, did he?” Teschra mused, watching the girl lying on the ground. She had curled up into herself for protection. But it wouldn’t help.
The crack of the switch split the air again, and the girl convulsed as another streak of blood seeped through the fabric of her clothing. Teschra smiled. “Did he?” she demanded.
Liz rolled over, sitting up with difficulty, the cut above her left eye bleeding into it as she glared at the faerie in defiance. “Max didn’t choose me, I made him come,” she stated. She flinched when Teschra laughed.
“You act so brave for a mortal,” the blonde said, “But I can feel your terror.” She came closer, but Liz stubbornly held her ground, meeting the fantastically colored eyes. “It makes your heart beat so fast,” she whispered as she reached down, pressing a hand to Liz’s heart. She leaned closer, licking her lips. “Just like a little rabbit’s when the fox is nearby.”
Liz leaned forward herself, so that her mouth was near the Unseelie witch’s ear. “I’m not a rabbit,” she hissed, kicking out.
The pain was intense. Liz gasped, feeling as if her heart was being ripped from her chest. But when she looked down, she realized it was. The hand resting on her heart had elongated, and it was digging into her skin. The loss of blood was making her dizzy. Tears pricked her eyes, she felt so incredibly helpless against this being.
“Oh, I know pet,” Teschra assured her, taking her hand away. She watched as the mortal girl pressed her own to it, trying to stop the blood from escaping the wound. “You’re the bait for the rabbit.” An eerie smile crossed her face as she sucked her fingers clean. “Or should I say dragon?”
It was amusing she thought as she watched the human struggle to rise to her feet. So very amusing to see the way this mortal tried to oppose her even as her life was seeping away. “Haven’t you done enough to him?” Liz demanded hotly, managing to make it to her feet, though her legs felt shaky.
“Enough?” There was that bone-chilling laugh again. “I am in exile because of him!” her voice was full of frost, and Liz saw the whip lashing toward her in accompaniment to the statement. She staggered, unable to avoid the blow, but remained upright. “The precious dragon prince,” the faerie continued, beating her victime over and over again until Liz was forced to the ground again, “Khivar banished me from the Ebon Court. I am cut off from my people for eternity for what I did to the precious Prince of Antar.” The whip went flying and Teschra stamped her foot. “Do you see what it is doing to my beauty, pet?” she cooed.
Liz was alarmed by the sudden mood swing, but she watched the witch steadily, trying to see what point Teschra was trying to make. To her surprise, Liz saw noticeable changes in the beautiful immortal’s appearance. “It may just be the blood in my eyes,” she croaked, “But you’re ugly.” She tensed, waiting for the retribution, but it never came.
“I know.” Teschra had her arms spread away from her body, and was looking at them regretfully. Her milky white skin was coming off in patches, revealing the gray skin beneath. Her hair was thinning, hanging in greasy, limp strands over her bony shoulders. “And your dragon will pay for it.”
Anger coursed through Liz. “How dare you!” she shouted, “How dare you blame Max, it’s your own damn fault!”
“Ah-ah, pet, language.”
“Shut up! If you hadn’t cursed Max in the first place, you wouldn’t haven’t been exiled! When you learned your fate, you should have released him!”
Suddenly yellow fangs were bared, and Liz was held by the throat. “Release him? To please Khivar? To placate the pretentious, pompous Golden Court that their beloved little prince was gone? Never! I never undo a spell, especially when I’ve done nothing wrong!” Teschra seethed, her claws puncturing the princess’ neck.
“Nothing wrong,” Liz repeated in disbelief, spitting blood, “You condemned him to a half life for an eternity!”
“I gave him an out. So handsome was your dragon, pet, and so smart. It seemed a waste to kill him like the others…But I should have.” To Liz’s horror, the ring of gold around her pupils glowed red, slowly spreading outward. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble now.”
“I kill you,” Liz said calmly. Her vision was becoming dim.
“With what, pet?” Teschra crooned, smiling pleasantly as Liz’s breathing grew shallow, “You have no sword, no knife, no bow, and absolutely no magick. What weapon shall be my downfall? Your last drop of blood?” She laughed again, loudly, her head flung back. Liz watched her, powerless.
She and Max never should have left Terra d’Mortais. She took a deep breath, coughing when she couldn’t. Teschra’s fingers tightened convulsively. “It looks as if the guest of honor has finally arrived.”
Liz’s eyes flew to the now bright sky, watching as the black dragon, bellowing fire, flew rapidly toward them.
Finally he had come. Teschra smiled bitterly, weaving magick around the dark form in the sky. The threads of the spell were encircling her fingers, and she yanked them closed, tightening the ends around the dragon.
The roar of torment from on high was brief as the large throat became smaller, and the human counterpart dropped from the sky, landing with a sickening thud on the ground mere yards from where Teschra and her captive stood.
“Max,” Liz whispered, staring in grim fascination at the broken tableau. “MAX!”
“Well, that wasn’t very fun,” the faerie stated, disappointed, “I was hoping for a bit more of a fight.” She shrugged and turned back to Liz, who was still gaping at her fallen betrothed. “Do you know what this means, pet?” she inquired, and then gave a little giggle, bending down and tilting Liz’s head so that her horrified brown eyes were staring into Teschra’s red ones. “It means we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
Liz jerked her chin out of Teschra’s hold, not wincing when the knifepoint fingernails cut her, “He’s not dead. He can’t be.”
A half-smile, “And why not, pet? Why can’t your precious prince be dead?”
“A dragon can only be killed one way.”
Teschra clapped her hands, delighted. “You did do your research, didn’t you? As it is, you’re right. He’s not dead, just broken.” She circled around Liz, glaring at the body such a short distance away. “Conscious, but in pain,” her voice trailed to a bitter whisper as the body twitched. Liz held her breath in hope, but it left in a rush as Teschra yanked her hair. “Fitting, isn’t it pet? That he meets the same fate as I. I, who will spend an eternity alone, exiled from all that makes me fae. Conscious, but in pain… I could leave him like this. Human, shattered, unable to mend. I could take you away so that he could never find you. I could break him more, pet.” A cruel smile lit her face, “But I want to kill him.”
The man, as impossible as it was for him to be a man, moved again. Soon, he was on his knees, swaying back and forth. On a forth, he used the upward momentum to surge to his feet, though he still swayed. Liz was holding her breath, but it caught painfully in her throat as she noticed that his arm was dangling at an unnatural angle, and one leg was dragging as he walked toward them.
She wanted to run to him, but she couldn’t move. Teschra had a death grip on her hair. She sent him vibes, pleading with him to look at her. She needed to see his eyes, to see that he was all right. Check that the aberrant change in his routine hadn’t affected him unduly.
“Giff me Lizz,” he said, still coming toward them. Liz’s eyes widened at the sibilate tone. He was speaking in the dragon’s tongue.
“No,” Teschra replied, tauntingly pulling the human girl closer to her, “I think I want to keep her.”
He finally lifted his head, his golden eyes feral and unseeing. Dragon’s eyes. There was nothing in them of the man Liz loved. “Giff her to me now!” he roared, and charged forward, heedless of his injuries.
Teschra laughed, tickled pink by his actions, and threw up a ward, stopping him in his tracks. Max growled, hands curved as if he had claws. His eyes expressed his desire to rend her limb from limb. He fought mindlessly against the invisible barrier.
The precious prince had lost himself wholly to the beast.
It was perfect.
“I’m going to kill you dragon prince,” she informed him. She beckoned, drawing the boundary closer to her. Max followed, stalking as closely as it let him. He was like an animal unable to get at its prey. She smiled craftily. “Do you know how?”
He snarled. Her smile grew. Yanking harder, she pulled Liz up a bit, so that the girl was kneeling instead of propped up on her elbows on the ground. Liz bit back a scream as she felt her roots being torn from her head. She refused to show weakness in front of Max. She would be strong for him. “Tell him how, pet,” Teschra cooed sweetly, “Tell him how you kill a dragon.”
Liz was silent, gazing into Max’s enraged eyes. “Tell him!" the Unseelie witch ordered, shaking the girl.
Realization as to her part in this affair suddenly blossomed in her mind. With misery in her eyes, she bowed her head. “Aim for the heart,” she murmured inaudibly.
“So smart, pet,” Teschra said approvingly. “It is a shame I have to kill you, I think we would have had fun together.” She sighed regretfully, stroking Liz’s cheeks, weaving a death spell.
Liz felt her mind becoming fuddled, her vision fading. Her eyes sought out her love’s, wanting him to be the last sight she saw. She gave him a mute apology for not being able to save him, and succumbed to the darkness.
She was being burned alive. Teschra had no time to contemplate how the mortal had passed through her ward, only that he had, and his hands were around her throat. He was radiating heat, it was like he was made of fire, and it was turning her insides to ash before scorching her skin. She screamed.
She screamed and burned. And then finally, she was free.
Max tossed the incinerated form from him and knelt beside his treasure. She was limp and unmoving. She was broken. He howled with the pain of loss. Of seeing his precious treasure bleeding and bruised and broken.
Zan approached cautiously. He had come to Abrigar alone, not willing to doom his people if this attempt should fail. The sight of the charred remains, still smoking, and of the brave young woman lying dead in her love’s arms, made the outcome of this battle clear. Clear that even as his friend had won, so had he lost.
The keening was heartrending.
“Max,” he murmured, coming to stand near his friend. “Max what happened?” The Antarian prince paid him no heed, just continued rocking Liz’s body, keening inhumanly. “Let me help, Max,” Zan insisted, kneeling beside the man who was still dragon, “Let me heal her.”
For the King of the Golden Court had magick in his strong hands. Hands that could destroy or heal with just a touch. He extended his arms to take the d’Mortaisian princess. Max hissed, striking out even as he pulled the girl away from the unknown male.
Zan’s eyes widened. “Max, it’s me, Zan. I want to heal her Max. I want to make her better. I want to bring her back to you.” Golden eyes watched him warily. “Teschra’s gone, Max. You’re free.” Desperation lent an edge of command to his voice. “Let the dragon go, Max.”
There was a moment, maybe only three heartbeats, but it seemed to stretch on forever. And then brown bled into the golden eyes and Max blinked. He gazed down at Liz, pain etched on his every feature, and then he looked at Zan. “Help her,” he pleaded, holding the body out to the faerie king, “Please. Please, help her Zan. I can’t live without her.”
The immortal nodded, and reached out.
The rampage had been devastating.
When the taint of Unseelie magic had diffused through the room, the entire Court had frozen. The demifey, Zan’s most competent and reliable hunters, had identified the taint as the Reaper’s. Max, upon hearing Teschra’s title, had gone pale, his eyes taking on an alien hue, and demanded Liz’s presence.
When the smallest members of the Golden Court had politely informed the King and his guest that the human princess had gone missing, Max had exploded.
The roar of agony that had escaped him had a hitch to it that no human throat could produce.
Uneasiness had swept through Zan as he heard a distinct cracking, as if bones were being broken and remolded. He had stared at Max, eyes widening at the sight of the prince’s skin rippling beneath the surface, as if something was fighting to break free. He then tried to calm his friend, but it was to no avail.
The dragon had torn the man apart.
It had been a truly horrifying sight. And then chaos had reigned. Faeries had been screaming, scrambling to get out of the large creature’s path as he moved. It had taken several subduing spells for different members of the Court to contain the dragon.
Now, Zan stood off to one side, his magick slowly being drained. His Queen stood nearby, looking more and more haggard. Vilandra, the depletion showing her true beauty, was sitting, her eyes watching the thrashing dragon warily. Rath, displaying no effects of the spell on his power was jumping back and forth over Max’s tail, irritating him.
“Max,” Zan said softly, soothingly, as he moved into his friend’s line of sight. Pupil-less eyes glared at him, no recognition evident. “Max, it’s me, Zan. I’m your friend. You need to calm down, Max. You need to take control.”
The eyes whirled, and Zan was forced to jump ungracefully out of the way as the large head shot forward to take a bite out of him. “Ah-ah, that’s not nice,” came Rath’s ever-cheerful voice. He strengthened his holding wards, forcing Max’s head to the ruptured ground, where the dragon tried to blast him, but only managed smoke rings. Rath laughed.
“Rath,” Zan reprimanded, “Do not tease him, this is serious. We cannot hold him here indefinitely. Already it is exhausting us. If Max cannot control the beast, Antar may suffer dire consequences, and the Princess Liz may lose her life.”
There was a wrenching, and Max was suddenly moving freely. “Where isss Lizz. Giff her back to me, now,” he ordered, hissing menacingly. “I want Lizz.” One claw came forward, pawing at the ground and shredding the gold-veined marble. Zan winced. It was quite obvious that Max was spoiling for a fight.
“Teschra has her, Max,” Zan told him gently, “You remember, my demifey are tracking them as we speak.”
The King was again subjected to that golden glare. There was some intelligence back in those eyes, but it was more serpentine than human. “Tessschra will pay,” the dragon stated, fire licking between his fangs in his anger.
“Yes,” Zan agreed, in deadly earnest, “She will pay dearly.” Their eyes met, silver and gold clashing, and the faerie saw something of his young friend seep into the dragon’s demeanor.
“Ahem, Majesty?” Eye contact was broken as Zan turned in response to the tiny voice of one of his Court’s subjects. The demifey bowed, wings beating frantically. “We traced the taint to Abrigar, King Zan,” she reported.
Zan blanched, Abrigar was Unseelie territory, and those of the Ebon Court did not appreciate Seelie interference. Even if Teschra was banished, they would not allow the Golden Court to go unpunished. And Zan was not sure his people could stand against all the sadistic horrors King Khivar would attempt to unleash upon them.
“Thank you,” he said to the messenger, and then turned back to Max, but he was already gone. “I wish you luck, friend,” he whispered sadly, as the silhouette of a black dragon blocked out the sinking moon.
Dawn was approaching. She could make out the glimmer of lightness on the horizon. “The dragon prince did not choose his savior wisely, did he?” Teschra mused, watching the girl lying on the ground. She had curled up into herself for protection. But it wouldn’t help.
The crack of the switch split the air again, and the girl convulsed as another streak of blood seeped through the fabric of her clothing. Teschra smiled. “Did he?” she demanded.
Liz rolled over, sitting up with difficulty, the cut above her left eye bleeding into it as she glared at the faerie in defiance. “Max didn’t choose me, I made him come,” she stated. She flinched when Teschra laughed.
“You act so brave for a mortal,” the blonde said, “But I can feel your terror.” She came closer, but Liz stubbornly held her ground, meeting the fantastically colored eyes. “It makes your heart beat so fast,” she whispered as she reached down, pressing a hand to Liz’s heart. She leaned closer, licking her lips. “Just like a little rabbit’s when the fox is nearby.”
Liz leaned forward herself, so that her mouth was near the Unseelie witch’s ear. “I’m not a rabbit,” she hissed, kicking out.
The pain was intense. Liz gasped, feeling as if her heart was being ripped from her chest. But when she looked down, she realized it was. The hand resting on her heart had elongated, and it was digging into her skin. The loss of blood was making her dizzy. Tears pricked her eyes, she felt so incredibly helpless against this being.
“Oh, I know pet,” Teschra assured her, taking her hand away. She watched as the mortal girl pressed her own to it, trying to stop the blood from escaping the wound. “You’re the bait for the rabbit.” An eerie smile crossed her face as she sucked her fingers clean. “Or should I say dragon?”
It was amusing she thought as she watched the human struggle to rise to her feet. So very amusing to see the way this mortal tried to oppose her even as her life was seeping away. “Haven’t you done enough to him?” Liz demanded hotly, managing to make it to her feet, though her legs felt shaky.
“Enough?” There was that bone-chilling laugh again. “I am in exile because of him!” her voice was full of frost, and Liz saw the whip lashing toward her in accompaniment to the statement. She staggered, unable to avoid the blow, but remained upright. “The precious dragon prince,” the faerie continued, beating her victime over and over again until Liz was forced to the ground again, “Khivar banished me from the Ebon Court. I am cut off from my people for eternity for what I did to the precious Prince of Antar.” The whip went flying and Teschra stamped her foot. “Do you see what it is doing to my beauty, pet?” she cooed.
Liz was alarmed by the sudden mood swing, but she watched the witch steadily, trying to see what point Teschra was trying to make. To her surprise, Liz saw noticeable changes in the beautiful immortal’s appearance. “It may just be the blood in my eyes,” she croaked, “But you’re ugly.” She tensed, waiting for the retribution, but it never came.
“I know.” Teschra had her arms spread away from her body, and was looking at them regretfully. Her milky white skin was coming off in patches, revealing the gray skin beneath. Her hair was thinning, hanging in greasy, limp strands over her bony shoulders. “And your dragon will pay for it.”
Anger coursed through Liz. “How dare you!” she shouted, “How dare you blame Max, it’s your own damn fault!”
“Ah-ah, pet, language.”
“Shut up! If you hadn’t cursed Max in the first place, you wouldn’t haven’t been exiled! When you learned your fate, you should have released him!”
Suddenly yellow fangs were bared, and Liz was held by the throat. “Release him? To please Khivar? To placate the pretentious, pompous Golden Court that their beloved little prince was gone? Never! I never undo a spell, especially when I’ve done nothing wrong!” Teschra seethed, her claws puncturing the princess’ neck.
“Nothing wrong,” Liz repeated in disbelief, spitting blood, “You condemned him to a half life for an eternity!”
“I gave him an out. So handsome was your dragon, pet, and so smart. It seemed a waste to kill him like the others…But I should have.” To Liz’s horror, the ring of gold around her pupils glowed red, slowly spreading outward. “Would have saved me a lot of trouble now.”
“I kill you,” Liz said calmly. Her vision was becoming dim.
“With what, pet?” Teschra crooned, smiling pleasantly as Liz’s breathing grew shallow, “You have no sword, no knife, no bow, and absolutely no magick. What weapon shall be my downfall? Your last drop of blood?” She laughed again, loudly, her head flung back. Liz watched her, powerless.
She and Max never should have left Terra d’Mortais. She took a deep breath, coughing when she couldn’t. Teschra’s fingers tightened convulsively. “It looks as if the guest of honor has finally arrived.”
Liz’s eyes flew to the now bright sky, watching as the black dragon, bellowing fire, flew rapidly toward them.
Finally he had come. Teschra smiled bitterly, weaving magick around the dark form in the sky. The threads of the spell were encircling her fingers, and she yanked them closed, tightening the ends around the dragon.
The roar of torment from on high was brief as the large throat became smaller, and the human counterpart dropped from the sky, landing with a sickening thud on the ground mere yards from where Teschra and her captive stood.
“Max,” Liz whispered, staring in grim fascination at the broken tableau. “MAX!”
“Well, that wasn’t very fun,” the faerie stated, disappointed, “I was hoping for a bit more of a fight.” She shrugged and turned back to Liz, who was still gaping at her fallen betrothed. “Do you know what this means, pet?” she inquired, and then gave a little giggle, bending down and tilting Liz’s head so that her horrified brown eyes were staring into Teschra’s red ones. “It means we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
Liz jerked her chin out of Teschra’s hold, not wincing when the knifepoint fingernails cut her, “He’s not dead. He can’t be.”
A half-smile, “And why not, pet? Why can’t your precious prince be dead?”
“A dragon can only be killed one way.”
Teschra clapped her hands, delighted. “You did do your research, didn’t you? As it is, you’re right. He’s not dead, just broken.” She circled around Liz, glaring at the body such a short distance away. “Conscious, but in pain,” her voice trailed to a bitter whisper as the body twitched. Liz held her breath in hope, but it left in a rush as Teschra yanked her hair. “Fitting, isn’t it pet? That he meets the same fate as I. I, who will spend an eternity alone, exiled from all that makes me fae. Conscious, but in pain… I could leave him like this. Human, shattered, unable to mend. I could take you away so that he could never find you. I could break him more, pet.” A cruel smile lit her face, “But I want to kill him.”
The man, as impossible as it was for him to be a man, moved again. Soon, he was on his knees, swaying back and forth. On a forth, he used the upward momentum to surge to his feet, though he still swayed. Liz was holding her breath, but it caught painfully in her throat as she noticed that his arm was dangling at an unnatural angle, and one leg was dragging as he walked toward them.
She wanted to run to him, but she couldn’t move. Teschra had a death grip on her hair. She sent him vibes, pleading with him to look at her. She needed to see his eyes, to see that he was all right. Check that the aberrant change in his routine hadn’t affected him unduly.
“Giff me Lizz,” he said, still coming toward them. Liz’s eyes widened at the sibilate tone. He was speaking in the dragon’s tongue.
“No,” Teschra replied, tauntingly pulling the human girl closer to her, “I think I want to keep her.”
He finally lifted his head, his golden eyes feral and unseeing. Dragon’s eyes. There was nothing in them of the man Liz loved. “Giff her to me now!” he roared, and charged forward, heedless of his injuries.
Teschra laughed, tickled pink by his actions, and threw up a ward, stopping him in his tracks. Max growled, hands curved as if he had claws. His eyes expressed his desire to rend her limb from limb. He fought mindlessly against the invisible barrier.
The precious prince had lost himself wholly to the beast.
It was perfect.
“I’m going to kill you dragon prince,” she informed him. She beckoned, drawing the boundary closer to her. Max followed, stalking as closely as it let him. He was like an animal unable to get at its prey. She smiled craftily. “Do you know how?”
He snarled. Her smile grew. Yanking harder, she pulled Liz up a bit, so that the girl was kneeling instead of propped up on her elbows on the ground. Liz bit back a scream as she felt her roots being torn from her head. She refused to show weakness in front of Max. She would be strong for him. “Tell him how, pet,” Teschra cooed sweetly, “Tell him how you kill a dragon.”
Liz was silent, gazing into Max’s enraged eyes. “Tell him!" the Unseelie witch ordered, shaking the girl.
Realization as to her part in this affair suddenly blossomed in her mind. With misery in her eyes, she bowed her head. “Aim for the heart,” she murmured inaudibly.
“So smart, pet,” Teschra said approvingly. “It is a shame I have to kill you, I think we would have had fun together.” She sighed regretfully, stroking Liz’s cheeks, weaving a death spell.
Liz felt her mind becoming fuddled, her vision fading. Her eyes sought out her love’s, wanting him to be the last sight she saw. She gave him a mute apology for not being able to save him, and succumbed to the darkness.
She was being burned alive. Teschra had no time to contemplate how the mortal had passed through her ward, only that he had, and his hands were around her throat. He was radiating heat, it was like he was made of fire, and it was turning her insides to ash before scorching her skin. She screamed.
She screamed and burned. And then finally, she was free.
Max tossed the incinerated form from him and knelt beside his treasure. She was limp and unmoving. She was broken. He howled with the pain of loss. Of seeing his precious treasure bleeding and bruised and broken.
Zan approached cautiously. He had come to Abrigar alone, not willing to doom his people if this attempt should fail. The sight of the charred remains, still smoking, and of the brave young woman lying dead in her love’s arms, made the outcome of this battle clear. Clear that even as his friend had won, so had he lost.
The keening was heartrending.
“Max,” he murmured, coming to stand near his friend. “Max what happened?” The Antarian prince paid him no heed, just continued rocking Liz’s body, keening inhumanly. “Let me help, Max,” Zan insisted, kneeling beside the man who was still dragon, “Let me heal her.”
For the King of the Golden Court had magick in his strong hands. Hands that could destroy or heal with just a touch. He extended his arms to take the d’Mortaisian princess. Max hissed, striking out even as he pulled the girl away from the unknown male.
Zan’s eyes widened. “Max, it’s me, Zan. I want to heal her Max. I want to make her better. I want to bring her back to you.” Golden eyes watched him warily. “Teschra’s gone, Max. You’re free.” Desperation lent an edge of command to his voice. “Let the dragon go, Max.”
There was a moment, maybe only three heartbeats, but it seemed to stretch on forever. And then brown bled into the golden eyes and Max blinked. He gazed down at Liz, pain etched on his every feature, and then he looked at Zan. “Help her,” he pleaded, holding the body out to the faerie king, “Please. Please, help her Zan. I can’t live without her.”
The immortal nodded, and reached out.
Epilogue
In the weeks that passed after the terrifying encounter with Teschra, Liz’s cuts had healed and her bruises had faded. And Max had relearned how to be human.
She often woke at dawn though, bereft of his warmth, to see him standing at the large glass door that led to the balcony. It made her heart catch in her throat to see him tense and shudder with the phantom pain of the change. She would go to him, wrap her arms around him, and keep him anchored to her, unable to fly away…
Liz looked up at her husband as he swung her around the ballroom floor, laughing. She could hardly believe her wedding had been today. That she had finally married Max. He gazed down at her, smiling, happy that she was finally his as well.
It had been a small wedding, not what you would expect for the Crown Prince of Antar and a Princess of Terra d’Mortais, but it had been perfect. Phillip, Dianne, Zan, Rath, Vilandra, and Ava had all come, and Zan had given them his wedding gift before the ceremony; Liz’s family.
Isabel, grinning, had presented her with her wedding dress. A burgundy dress with gold trim and full sleeves made of white lace. Kyle had been wearing a stunned expression as he gave his baby sister away, his wife crying from joy at seeing her sister-in-law. Jesse was solemn, but his eyes sparked happily as he joined the two in matrimony. Alex and Maria performed the first song for the new couple to dance to, while Micheal bounced baby Sassy on his knee, glaring at Rath, who seemed intent on making faces at his daughter.
“How?” Liz asked, finally managing to form her chaotic thoughts into a coherent word.
Rath, stealing Liz before Max could answer, twirled her easily. “Faerie magick,” he said, then winked, dashing off before Max could catch him.
Max, grumbling about imbecilic faeries who couldn’t keep their grubby hands off other men’s wives, wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Liz laughed, kissing him gently on the mouth. He glanced down at her, and then away, and then back.
“Max, what’s wrong?” she inquired.
He was nervous. “They don’t seem to need us,” he told her, watching her seriously, “I think we should retire for the night.”
Max perceived when Liz finally understood what he was suggesting. Her beautiful brown eyes went wide, and she looked around the room, noting how occupied everyone was each other. She met his eyes, somewhat shyly, and gave a small smile. “That would be acceptable,” she informed him softly, and let him lead her away.
He lifted her into his arms once they were far enough away from their families. He didn’t like her on her feet too long. It was branded into Max’s brain, the sight of her lying dead on that cold, hard ground. If Zan hadn’t come…
The faerie king had risked a lot by coming to Max’s aid in Abrigar, and had risked more by attempting to heal Liz. Zan had been nearly drained trying to hold the dragon, as well as transporting himself and two others between realms. He had been unable to heal all the surface damage, but he had unwound the death spell and brought her back to life. Liz had had a handprint the color of Zan’s eyes on her body for a week afterward.
Max touched the ring of bruises around her throat after she had taken off the black silk choker covering them. She shivered beneath the light touch of his fingers and met his eyes in the bedchamber mirror.
Liz sat straight, watching him as his hands let her hair loose from its bindings, as he slowly and carefully unbuttoned the back of her wedding dress. She rose from her seat when she felt the last button come undone, and let the rich fabric pool at her feet as she turned to him.
She could see the shadows in his eyes as they fell on her abrasions, but she was determined to take that darkness away. Liz had known what she was getting into when she had bullied him into coming, she had recognized the fact that she could be injured or fatally wounded. But she had never doubted the fact that Max would be free of his curse.
In the end, he had done it himself. She had heard only a second-hand account of the death of Teschra from Zan, who had appeared after the fact, but it was obvious that the Reaper had fallen by her own mechanisms. The dragon she had created had destroyed her as she had hoped to destroy him. It was poetic justice.
Liz kissed him, kissed him until he was breathing heavily and his eyes were only on her eyes. And then she began to undress him.
It was like a slow, exquisite torture. Each move she made had him hungering for all of her. He remembered their first night together. Remembered her pert attitude and blushing face. She had to remain untouched, she had claimed, until she wed a prince. It was her duty as a princess.
He had never put too much stock in duty, but he had respected her decision, even as he tried to get her to change her mind. She never had. And he loved her for it. Her bravery, her persistence, her inner fire, her loyalty, her dreams, and the way she loved so completely.
Tonight both their wishes would come true. Tonight, they both had their love.
He was gentle with her, tender, as he had been the night she had told him she loved him. There was a hint of the teasing passion they normally shared, but this first time was not about that burning passion. It was about freedom.
There were moments when the dragon that still lurked inside him, unable to come out, had tried to rise up Moments when his eyes flashed gold as he slid in and out of her body. But she held him tighter, caressed his warm flesh, and murmured his name.
And his eyes, as they became unfocused as the two climbed higher into oblivion, were a soft, amber-brown.
He held her afterward, listened as she breathed evenly with sleep. His hearing, still better that most humans, could hear the revelry continuing downstairs. It would go on, he was sure, past noon. He watched the dawn rise from he and Liz’s marriage bed, watched the light break out over the kingdom of Antar in a golden rush. He tangled his fingers in Liz’s glossy hair, and closed his eyes.
He was a man.
The End
In the weeks that passed after the terrifying encounter with Teschra, Liz’s cuts had healed and her bruises had faded. And Max had relearned how to be human.
She often woke at dawn though, bereft of his warmth, to see him standing at the large glass door that led to the balcony. It made her heart catch in her throat to see him tense and shudder with the phantom pain of the change. She would go to him, wrap her arms around him, and keep him anchored to her, unable to fly away…
Liz looked up at her husband as he swung her around the ballroom floor, laughing. She could hardly believe her wedding had been today. That she had finally married Max. He gazed down at her, smiling, happy that she was finally his as well.
It had been a small wedding, not what you would expect for the Crown Prince of Antar and a Princess of Terra d’Mortais, but it had been perfect. Phillip, Dianne, Zan, Rath, Vilandra, and Ava had all come, and Zan had given them his wedding gift before the ceremony; Liz’s family.
Isabel, grinning, had presented her with her wedding dress. A burgundy dress with gold trim and full sleeves made of white lace. Kyle had been wearing a stunned expression as he gave his baby sister away, his wife crying from joy at seeing her sister-in-law. Jesse was solemn, but his eyes sparked happily as he joined the two in matrimony. Alex and Maria performed the first song for the new couple to dance to, while Micheal bounced baby Sassy on his knee, glaring at Rath, who seemed intent on making faces at his daughter.
“How?” Liz asked, finally managing to form her chaotic thoughts into a coherent word.
Rath, stealing Liz before Max could answer, twirled her easily. “Faerie magick,” he said, then winked, dashing off before Max could catch him.
Max, grumbling about imbecilic faeries who couldn’t keep their grubby hands off other men’s wives, wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Liz laughed, kissing him gently on the mouth. He glanced down at her, and then away, and then back.
“Max, what’s wrong?” she inquired.
He was nervous. “They don’t seem to need us,” he told her, watching her seriously, “I think we should retire for the night.”
Max perceived when Liz finally understood what he was suggesting. Her beautiful brown eyes went wide, and she looked around the room, noting how occupied everyone was each other. She met his eyes, somewhat shyly, and gave a small smile. “That would be acceptable,” she informed him softly, and let him lead her away.
He lifted her into his arms once they were far enough away from their families. He didn’t like her on her feet too long. It was branded into Max’s brain, the sight of her lying dead on that cold, hard ground. If Zan hadn’t come…
The faerie king had risked a lot by coming to Max’s aid in Abrigar, and had risked more by attempting to heal Liz. Zan had been nearly drained trying to hold the dragon, as well as transporting himself and two others between realms. He had been unable to heal all the surface damage, but he had unwound the death spell and brought her back to life. Liz had had a handprint the color of Zan’s eyes on her body for a week afterward.
Max touched the ring of bruises around her throat after she had taken off the black silk choker covering them. She shivered beneath the light touch of his fingers and met his eyes in the bedchamber mirror.
Liz sat straight, watching him as his hands let her hair loose from its bindings, as he slowly and carefully unbuttoned the back of her wedding dress. She rose from her seat when she felt the last button come undone, and let the rich fabric pool at her feet as she turned to him.
She could see the shadows in his eyes as they fell on her abrasions, but she was determined to take that darkness away. Liz had known what she was getting into when she had bullied him into coming, she had recognized the fact that she could be injured or fatally wounded. But she had never doubted the fact that Max would be free of his curse.
In the end, he had done it himself. She had heard only a second-hand account of the death of Teschra from Zan, who had appeared after the fact, but it was obvious that the Reaper had fallen by her own mechanisms. The dragon she had created had destroyed her as she had hoped to destroy him. It was poetic justice.
Liz kissed him, kissed him until he was breathing heavily and his eyes were only on her eyes. And then she began to undress him.
It was like a slow, exquisite torture. Each move she made had him hungering for all of her. He remembered their first night together. Remembered her pert attitude and blushing face. She had to remain untouched, she had claimed, until she wed a prince. It was her duty as a princess.
He had never put too much stock in duty, but he had respected her decision, even as he tried to get her to change her mind. She never had. And he loved her for it. Her bravery, her persistence, her inner fire, her loyalty, her dreams, and the way she loved so completely.
Tonight both their wishes would come true. Tonight, they both had their love.
He was gentle with her, tender, as he had been the night she had told him she loved him. There was a hint of the teasing passion they normally shared, but this first time was not about that burning passion. It was about freedom.
There were moments when the dragon that still lurked inside him, unable to come out, had tried to rise up Moments when his eyes flashed gold as he slid in and out of her body. But she held him tighter, caressed his warm flesh, and murmured his name.
And his eyes, as they became unfocused as the two climbed higher into oblivion, were a soft, amber-brown.
He held her afterward, listened as she breathed evenly with sleep. His hearing, still better that most humans, could hear the revelry continuing downstairs. It would go on, he was sure, past noon. He watched the dawn rise from he and Liz’s marriage bed, watched the light break out over the kingdom of Antar in a golden rush. He tangled his fingers in Liz’s glossy hair, and closed his eyes.
He was a man.
The End