The Dragon Legion Collection 9 (8 page)

“Gone?”

Cetos heard the displeasure in the merchant’s voice, but the pain of his burns was overwhelming him. The merchant glanced away. Freed from his commanding gaze, Cetos felt his own eyes close.

Then something sharp locked around his neck, like a claw.

He gasped and his eyes flew open. A dragon held him by the throat, those same strange flames dancing in the pupils of its eyes. It wasn’t the same dragon as had burned him. This one was enormous and brilliant yellow, the hue of topaz trimmed with gold.

A second dragon. If anything, it was more terrifying than the first one. It seemed cold and merciless, while the other had been passionate.

Where was the merchant? He couldn’t look for him, not when the flames in those eyes danced so brightly that they fascinated him.

“Where have they gone?” the dragon demanded.

Its voice was identical to that of the merchant. Cetos was shocked. Was he in the clutch of Zeus? That god dearly loved to change forms, to toy with mortal men, and to inflict punishment for no reason beyond his own amusement.

“Where?” demanded the dragon again, giving Cetos a little squeeze of encouragement.

Cetos realized a little bit late that this exchange was about more than the gold coins he’d coveted.

“Sparta,” he confessed, then choked as the talons dug more deeply into his skin.

“Are you sure?” The dragon’s voice was low and silky, inescapable.

Cetos started to agree, then had a realization. Katina had left his house. He knew she would pursue the boy to retrieve him. He knew he’d introduced doubt into her mind about her decision to send the boy to Sparta, and he knew what she would do as a result of that doubt.

He shook his head, then tried to draw breath to correct his answer. The dragon loosed its grip slightly and Cetos inhaled shakily. “Maybe Delphi,” he managed to say.

“Delphi,” the dragon repeated with a low hiss. It took a deep breath, its nostrils almost pinching shut with it and its mailed chest swelling. It turned, his eyes glittering, then abandoned Cetos.

Cetos dared to take a breath in relief. When he opened his eyes, the dragon was holding something in its talons. It looked like the scales that covered the dragon’s hide, but it was a purple so dark that it was almost black. Was it from the other dragon?

“You’ve had a guest,” the yellow dragon said, then bared its teeth in a vicious parody of a smile.

Cetos wondered what had pleased him so much, but the dragon returned to his side and he didn’t dare to ask. The dragon removed Cetos’ purse, spilled its contents into its claw and counted the gold coins. It kept the coins, tossing the empty purse at Cetos.

The gold. It had taken back the gold. Cetos moaned in disappointment.

He had no chance to argue, because the dragon opened its mouth. Cetos saw down the great dark gullet of the beast, then screamed as he was engulfed in flames for the second time. This blaze was hotter and brighter. He was dimly aware of the dragon laughing as it spewed more fire, clearly delighting in burning Cetos to a crisp.

Cetos knew he wouldn’t survive this assault.

A boy cried out in dismay, then the dragon set the entire house ablaze. Cetos heard the slaves scream as the dragon hunted them down.

There were more screams, then an eerie silence—punctuated only by the sobbing of a boy. The slaves were dead, Cetos knew it, and he soon would be as well. On every side, there was fire and heat, brilliant light and smoke. He heard the house creak before collapsing around him and becoming an inferno that would never be extinguished.

Cetos rolled to his back in agony and opened his eyes. The last thing he saw was a dragon taking flight into the night sky, something Cetos couldn’t identify clutched to its side.

The boy.

The one the dragon claimed was his son.

It was too late for regrets, but Cetos had more than one.

Chapter Three

There was something soothing about the rhythm of the dragon’s flight. Katina managed to slow the racing of her heart as the dragon carried her into the hills. Her face still hurt and the backs of her elbows stung where the skin had been scraped away, but she didn’t care. She was away from that horrific situation, one she had never expected. Cetos had never been violent before, and it made no sense that he’d been so distressed by not being able to surrender Lysander for some apprenticeship, even if the other man was wealthy.

It was as if a different man had come home from his routine journey.

Was he dead? Katina wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to think about it. Not yet. She could still smell burning flesh and it made her bile rise.

She was more worried about what had happened to Alexander. Had the dragon attacked him first? Was he still hidden in the bedroom, or had he managed to escape?

Would she ever know? She couldn’t help feeling that she was reliving the past in losing Alexander again and being uncertain of his safety or survival.

It wasn’t any easier the second time.

Katina spared a glance upward at her captor. She probably should have been more frightened than she was to be in the captivity of a dragon. Its grip upon her wasn’t painfully tight, and she had the sense that it had been saving her.

Why? A dragon was unlikely to speak to her, much less confide in her.

She’d never believed they existed, but this dragon was real. Was it exactly what it appeared to be, or a god in disguise? How could she find out?

Katina could see the deep silvery purple of its chest scales more closely now and also the power of its muscles moving beneath the armor. Its wings beat at almost a leisurely pace, as if it was effortless to both fly and carry her weight. There was a savage beauty about the dragon, and a power that filled her with awe.

“That he was your husband,” the dragon said, his voice sounding precisely like Alexander’s, “didn’t give him the right to strike you.” He gave her an intent look, one that reminded her very much of Alexander when he was annoyed. “Ever.”

Katina gasped in shock. “You spoke!”

The dragon glanced down at her regally. Its gaze was knowing, as if it would dare her to believe the impossible.

“But you’re a dragon,” she said, speaking aloud as she considered the possibilities.

“A dragon shape shifter,” the dragon corrected and once again, Katina heard her love’s voice.

“Alexander?” she whispered and he inclined his head once.

Just as Alexander would have done.

Katina looked away, her thoughts spinning. A dragon shape shifter? Who knew that such creatures existed...never mind that she’d been married to one. But then, the gods were often said to enchant humans, turning them into other creatures or trees. She’d thought the stories whimsical, but they must have a root in truth.

She could easily believe that Alexander would defend her from harm, using any abilities he had.

She just hadn’t counted on this one.

Was it possible that she and Alexander had something in common? Katina’s heart began to pound with hope, but she tried to stay calm. She had to know more to be sure that this was cause for celebration. “Isn’t that impossible?”

“Nothing is impossible, Katina. I’ve learned that much, at least.” He spoke with such conviction that she wondered again where he had been and what he had seen.

“Do you control the change?”

“Yes.”

“Is it new for you?”

“No.”

Katina was thrilled. “Show me,” she said, needing to see the truth with her own eyes.

Alexander didn’t answer, but began a spiraling descent. Katina realized that he was targeting the crest of a hill that was well out of sight of the village. He was going to do as she asked. But then, Alexander was always a man whose actions spoke more clearly than his few words.

The dragon landed with easy grace and set her on her feet.

Katina held her ground and met his gaze, wanting him to see that she was unafraid of him, whatever he was.

“You should avert your gaze,” he advised.

“Why?”

“They say it can make a human insane to witness the change.”

Katina wasn’t one to put stock in rumors, seeing such a change wouldn’t challenge her sanity. She already knew such feats were possible. “Who says that?”

If a dragon could be said to smile, this one did. “Others of my kind insist it’s true.”

“Have you seen any human go crazy at the sight?”

He considered the matter, then shook his head.

Alexander never lied to her.

“Then I’ll keep my eyes open.” Katina lifted her chin. “Show me.”

The dragon’s gaze brightened. The way his eyes glittered was both familiar and alien: it reminded her of Alexander when he was intent, yet seemed reptilian. “My bold Katina,” he murmured, the low familiar sound sending a shiver through her.

Then all she saw was the similarity to Alexander.

As she watched, that same strange blue light she’d seen before shimmered around his form. It became radiant, a wondrous yet unusual glow, and then within the halo of illumination, Katina caught a glimpse of the dragon’s silhouette changing.

The dragon’s wings became smaller and folded along his back, melding into his shoulders. His tail shortened until it, too, disappeared. His claws became hands and feet, his scaled hide faded from view, and Alexander stood before her instead. It all happened in the blink of an eye. That blue light shimmered briefly around his body, before it was extinguished.

He waited in silence for her to respond, watching her with care, just as Alexander was inclined to do.

Katina wanted to laugh with delight. She had a good look at him, verifying that her eyes hadn’t deceived her. Alexander was wearing his strange clothing again, although the front of his upper garment hung open to reveal the tanned expanse of his chest. He was exactly as he should be, and she knew he couldn’t possibly have been hiding here or otherwise disguised.

Alexander
was
the dragon.

The dark dragon drawn on his shoulder suddenly made more sense.

It marked him as what he was.

This explained why the dragon had come to her rescue. Katina exhaled, surprised to find her insides quivering with joy. Learning Alexander’s secret made Katina feel as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t have to hide her own truth from him any longer. She didn’t have to fear his reaction.

They had so much in common.

She walked toward him, cautiously placing one hand on his chest. His heart pounded beneath her hand, beneath the familiar heat of muscle and bone. She hardly dared to believe her good fortune, and had to be sure this was as perfect as she believed it to be. Was there a trick?

“What god gave you this gift and at what price?” she asked.

Alexander studied her, as if deciding what to tell her. He was so still that he might have seen the secrets of her heart. “You aren’t afraid,” he mused and her heart skipped. “You’re not even surprised.”

Katina smiled, not ready to explain herself just yet. “You’re the man I love, and that doesn’t change, even if you have kept a secret from me.”

Alexander studied her and she watched admiration dawn in his eyes, as well as pleasure. “My bold bride,” he murmured, then closed his hand over hers.

“I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.”

“How? I was so careful...”

Katina laced her fingers between his. “Not so careful as that. You answered the door before anyone knocked. You lifted a pot from the fire before the food began to burn. You rose from a deep sleep to get Lysander for his feeding before he opened his mouth to cry. I thought you could see the future, but were afraid to admit it to me. I thought you were a kind of oracle.”

He looked down at their interlocked hands. His thumb eased across the back of her hand, launching an army of shivers over her flesh. “A gift of prophecy would have been far easier to explain.”

“Then how did you know those things?”

“Our senses are sharper. We see farther and hear a greater range of sounds.”

That made sense to Katina. She waited but he said no more, so she leaned against him to whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She knew the answer to this. It had to be the same answer she would have given in his place, but she wanted to hear it. She wanted him to realize that they had this fear in common before she shared her secret.

“I was afraid to lose you, if you knew the truth.” Alexander swallowed and looked down at her hand in his. “Not all women would welcome such news of their husband.”

“I think they would if that husband saved them from a beating.” Katina retorted. She’d meant to make him smile, but immediately saw that she had said the wrong thing. Alexander frowned, then released her hand and turned away. He looked over the valley now falling into darkness. He propped his hands on his hips and kept his back to her.

Katina felt as if a wide cold rift had opened between them, then guessed why. “What happened to Cetos?”