Keeper of the Flame (7 page)

If not for his better-than-human night vision, Hugh would likely not have seen the man, so well camouflaged was he. Hugh spun when he sensed someone behind him, only to find Miss padding up to him. He motioned for her to stop where she was as he crept back from the edge of the roof so they would not be seen by the watcher below.

Hobson had reached the roof as Hugh returned to the entrance with Miss at his side.

“She would not stay, Hugh. I’m sorry,” the innkeeper said in a whisper.

Hugh shrugged. “It’s all right. There is a man watching your front door from the alleyway across the street.”

“Only one?”

Hugh nodded. “If he is an assassin, one is all it takes. It will be hard to get past him. The roof on the left is too pitched and the right is too exposed. Going out the back would take us to the stables, but they back onto the mountain. I don’t suppose there’s any way up the cliff from there?”

“No.” Hob shook his head, muttering. “The only way out is by the street and he would have a perfect view. She is doomed. Dear Mother of All, why did she come here alone?”

Hobson was wringing his hands when Hugh stopped him. “She is that important to you?”

“To us all,” the man said at once. “She must survive. Without her, the land is lost.”

Hugh was taken aback by Hob’s words. He hadn’t thought the man was of a dramatic bent, but what could one highborn lady mean to Helios as a whole? She wasn’t the ruler here. Her job was no doubt important, but the gryphons would find another champion should she fall. Still, Hobson’s urgency cut through Hugh’s conjecture.

Add to that the fact that the beauty had done nothing wrong as far as Hugh could tell. She seemed the innocent target of these Eyes—whatever they were. Based on Hobson’s reaction and words, Hugh didn’t think she was evil. Merely troublesome in that she wanted to take Miss away.

He could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was if his inaction caused the lady’s death. He was well and truly stuck. He could easily fly her out of danger, but that would expose his true nature. He didn’t see a way around that at this point. With a sigh of resignation, he spoke.

“There is a way, but I cannot tell you what it is. I will tell the lady, and she will decide whether to take it or not.”

Hope and fear entered Hobson’s gaze. “Magic?”

“Something like that,” Hugh answered. Let the man think he was a mage. The truth was even more surprising, and twice as effective.

The lady stepped out of the shadows near the door. It seemed nobody stayed where he left them tonight.

“Thank you, Mr. Hobson, for your service.” Her tone was warm, but her words were a clear dismissal. Hobson turned to the door and seemed to hesitate.

“I will leave Tom at the foot of the stair should you decide to come back inside. Otherwise, I wish you all the blessings of the Lady on your journey. We will do our best to keep the Eyes off your path.”

“Thank you.” She passed a few coins to him and in the dark night. Hugh saw the gleam of gold. She’d paid the man well for his work this night.

Hugh stopped the man when he would have left, slipping a jeweled dagger bearing his mark and its silver-laced sheath into his hand. “Give this to Tom. He has been a good friend to me and the gryphlet. I will not forget him. Or you, Hob. You have my thanks.”

He’d also have the purse of silver Hugh had left on the mantle in his room. Hugh was glad to give it to the kind innkeeper. Hobson had been a helpful contact and perhaps would be again.

When the door shut behind Hob, Hugh turned to the two females and sighed again. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go, but he saw little alternative.

“So you
are
a mage?” The lady preempted his planned explanation.

“No, milady. I am a shapeshifter. One of very few in my land.” He let that sink in.

“What kind of creature shares your soul?” His interest was piqued by her wording, but he didn’t have time to delve into her beliefs just now.

“I am a dragon.”

“Hoo?” Miss was clearly confused.

Hugh crouched down to meet her eyes. “I can become a dragon, sweetheart. I can fly, like you will be able to, once you are bigger. I can teach you to fly, if you like.”

She seemed to like that, nodding so hard her whole body shook.

“Want fly!” She moved closer to him and butted his chest with her chin, ruffling her wings in excitement.

“All right, little one.” He caressed her ears and met her gaze. “How about I take you flying tonight? You can ride on my back and I will show you what it feels like. Would you like that?”

She bounced on her forepaws, clearly excited by the idea.

“Now, milady, it’s up to you.” Hugh looked up at her from his crouched position.

She stood in front of him, closer to the back of the building. The gryphlet was at his side and he was turned so that his right side faced the street. A flicker of movement caught his eye and he knew in that split second that all choice had been lost.

The assassin had come.

Somehow the man had climbed to the roof without Hugh having heard a thing. Hugh turned, as if in slow motion, already knowing what he would see.

The man from the alleyway, a weapon already in his hand. His gaze was fastened on the lady, but Hugh knew he would not hesitate to kill him and the gryphlet as well, if either stood in the assassin’s way.

Standing to his full height, Hugh shifted shape as he moved, thankful for the drills that he and his brothers had practiced over and over again. He could take his other form with hardly any delay. Fractions of a second and a magical black fog surrounded him. Only scant fractions more and he was reborn as the black dragon that was his other half.

The look on the assassin’s face would have been comical had the circumstances not been so dire. Hugh reared up, fanning his wings, keeping the baby gryphon and the woman behind his armored hide. It was up to the assassin now. If he backed down, Hugh would leave him be. If he advanced, he was toast.

Although, looking around, Hugh decided it would be inadvisable for him to use his flame up here. For one thing, it would alert every gryphon on the cliff to his presence. For another, it could very well start a raging inferno that might burn down half the city. No, this was a job that called for finesse.

Hugh showed his claws to the assassin. They gleamed ebony in the dark night. Each one a foot long, razor-sharp instrument of pain and death.

“Leave now and I’ll let you live.” The lady’s voice rang out from beneath Hugh’s right wing. Would the woman never stay where he left her?

The assassin shook his head. “You know it does not work that way.” His voice was heavily accented in a way Hugh had never heard.

“So be it.” Finally showing some sense, she ducked behind Hugh’s wing once again, allowing him to shield her as best he could.

To his credit, the assassin held his position even as Hugh advanced. Closer now, Hugh saw the tattoos on the man’s hands. Eyes. Slitted snake eyes. He’d never seen anything like it before. He had the impression the marks were indications of both his profession and level of skill. Too bad Hugh didn’t know how to read the code. He’d make a point of learning more about it later, after he took care of this threat and got the lady to safety.

The assassin made a move. A feint to the right though his weapon spun to the left. It was a dart of some kind. Poison, most likely. Hugh wasn’t concerned for his own safety. Unless the little darts had diamond-bladed tips, they would not penetrate dragon scale.

First one and then two and then a flurry of the little darts flew at him, but they bounced off his hide like so many gnats. The assassin hadn’t counted on that. Hugh could read the anger on his face. Excellent. Anger made a warrior lose focus. An angry warrior was one who made mistakes.

Sure enough, the assassin’s rage rose until he came at Hugh directly, a dully gleaming sword lashing through the dark sky toward Hugh’s snout. It would bounce off, of course, though if he got lucky and hit his eye he might do some damage.

Hugh wouldn’t allow the man to get lucky. He was about to step forward and use his claws on the assassin when a dagger sprouted out of the man’s chest.

Shock replaced the anger on his face as his sword clattered to the rooftop and his hands clutched at the knife in his chest. It had struck his heart, Hugh realized when the man pulled it out and blood gushed. He fell to the floor. Dead.

Hugh looked around for the source of the dagger. He was a little amazed to see the lady standing at his side, a grim expression on her face as she watched the assassin. A matching dagger was in her hand. Hugh had no doubt she’d been the source of the amazingly accurate shot. At night. In the dark. With only human eyesight to aid her. Or so Hugh thought.

Maybe she’d used magic to magnify her skill or make the dagger fly true. Hugh had never seen such a thing, but he’d heard stories about mages that could do just that. The question remained—was this woman capable of that kind of magic?

Or was it possible she was more than human? He didn’t think so. Hugh felt certain he would have noticed if she’d had some other influence in her background. Maybe he was wrong. He’d been wrong before and probably would be again.

“Nice throw.”
He spoke directly into her mind, wondering if she would prove to be one of the rare females who could hear his thoughts when directed at her.

She jumped a bit and looked at him. “Was that…? Did you…?” She looked uncertain of her own senses.

“Did I talk in your mind? Yes.”
He felt the connection now, a brief meeting of her mind to his.
“Unlike your feathered friends, dragon vocal chords are not suited to verbal speech. We speak in this manner with our knights and the few others who can hear us. I’m glad you can. It will make our time together easier.”

He was impressed. She’d just killed a man and she barely shook. Most women he knew would not have handled this kind of thing with as much aplomb. Well, maybe his new sister-in-laws, and a few of the heartier Lair wives, but not the vast majority of court ladies he’d known. This one was a cut above. She had surprised him and that wasn’t easy to do.

“I think we’d better go.” Her tone was still calm. “There could be more of them. Eyes are never predictable.”

Hugh moved away from the poisoned darts, sweeping them into a small pile with his tail. If anyone came up here before it rained and washed away the poison, at least the darts would all be in one place.

Once clear of them, he crouched, extending one forearm.
“Step on my elbow, then up the shoulder. The best place for you to sit is with your legs hooked in front of my wings.”

“Like a gryphon,” she commented absently. “Speaking of which…” She turned to Miss, helping her up.

“Hoo?” The little mewl was plaintive and questioning. Miss needed reassurance.

“I’m here, little one. Can you hear me?”

“Hoo!” Little paws bounced on his crest as the kitten settled into place. The lady took a seat behind her with more skill than Hugh had expected. She’d ridden before. No doubt on one of her gryphon charges. Interesting.

“Yes, sweetheart. I want you to hold on tight and let the lady help you stay in place. When I jump into the air, it may be bumpy at first. All right?”

“Yess, Hoo.” Her little voice sounded so eager Hugh would have smiled if he could.

“Are you ready, milady?”
He liked the feel of her riding him. It made him think of having her do it while in his man form and he couldn’t help the little growl that came out of his throat accompanied by a trickle of smoke.

He felt her settle in and reach forward to grab one of the spikes on his neck. Miss was tucked between her arms and her body, as safe as they could get for now.

“Ready,” she confirmed with a surety in her voice that made him curious about her flying experience.

One thing he thought he knew for certain…she’d never ridden a dragon before. She seemed to know so little about his land and its inhabitants—if she weren’t misleading him for some reason. He thought with some amount of confidence that he was the first dragon she had ever seen.

Small by Draconian standards, the black dragons of the royal family were the rarest of all dragons. They alone could take human form at will. They were faster than most dragons and usually more agile because of their smaller size.

They were also the only dragons who were completely black. All other dragons in Draconia were colorful. Blue, bronze, silver, gold, red, green… Every color of the rainbow, in fact, though some were more common than others. There was even a young ice dragon living at the castle whose scales shimmered like frozen mirrored glass.

Tonight, though, it was good to be black. With no moon to gleam against his hide, he would remain hidden against the dark sky, even to the keen-eyed gryphons. He’d noticed that few of the birds flew at night. While there were a few darker-coated gryphons, most were lighter colors that weren’t good for camouflage at night.

The stealthier gryphons were dark brown mostly and they worked the skies at night from what Hugh had observed. Still, they usually didn’t come back to their cliffside dwellings until after dawn. At this time of night, nothing flying should be around to spot the strange black dragon flitting through their territory.