Wyvern's Prince (The Dragons of Incendium Book 2) (9 page)

All he had to do next was accurately guess when to abandon the leaf and jump out of the river.

And convince Celo to help Gemma.

Venero wasn’t sure which would be the greater challenge, but he was alive and that had to count for something.

He was on the bank before he realized that he was relying upon Gemma’s resourcefulness. She’d save herself, now that he’d given her a hint of how to evade the spelldust. He had no doubt of it.

A demure beauty wouldn’t have survived, much less been such a reliable comrade.

Venero decided to think about that later.

* * *

The toad!

Gemma had been so worried about Felice and the spelldust that she’d forgotten the toad in her pocket—at least until it thrashed free of her skirt and swam for the surface. She reached for it, but missed. The spelldust! Was it ignoring its own advice? She could only watch as it rose to the surface. It seized a floating leaf, though, and used it as a shelter. It then disappeared from her view, swallowed by the swirling current of the river.

She supposed it had only wanted out of the castle and that once she’d helped it do that, there was no reason for it to linger. But she already missed its company.

Never mind its advice. Magic was all new to Gemma. They taught science on Incendium, and she had refined her fighting skills on Cumae. But she couldn’t anticipate a sorcerer like Urbanus, because she didn’t understand his powers.

That was annoying.

It looked like the spelldust was fading on the surface of the water. Although it might be smarter to wait a little longer, Felice needed air. The pavofel had stilled in her arms but she could feel its heartbeat. Gemma recalled the toad’s strategy. She surged toward the surface and swam toward the bank.

To her relief, there was a rock that leaned over the water, casting the surface in shadow. She emerged beneath its shelter. Felice needed no encouragement to do the same, but Gemma had to forcibly keep the pavofel from leaping to the shore. Wouldn’t the spelldust go through the pads of her feet? Gemma had to assume it would. Did it expire? Surely it followed some logical rules.

She wished she could ask the toad.

Gemma couldn’t do that, but she could follow its example. She guessed that at some point downriver, there would either be no spelldust or its power would have waned. She tucked Felice tightly under her arm and considered the stream. It flowed fairly quickly here and she could see another outcropping a good distance downstream.

“Hold your breath,” she told the pavofel, which gave her a simmering look of displeasure. Then she blew into Felice’s nose again and ducked under the surface, swimming with all her might toward that outcropping. The current helped, and she reached it more quickly than expected. She chose another that was further downstream, and did it again.

Felice scratched her, of course, fighting her every moment that they were under the water. Gemma didn’t care. She’d protect the pavofel to the end, even if it was a thankless task.

The pet had been a gift from Arista, after all.

The rhythm of swimming and catching her breath gave her a chance to think. Arista had always said that warriors came in many guises and were armed with many different weapons. She ought to have known. She had been contracted as a mercenary for years in between her stints of teaching on Cumae.

Wouldn’t Arista have considered Urbanus a warrior, as well? Gemma thought she might have done. Wasn’t he fighting for what he desired, but using his own arsenal? He’d anticipated Gemma’s own plan and disarmed her with his sorcery before she could execute it, and done so in order to see his own goals achieved. That sounded like war to Gemma.

Or at least a battle for supremacy.

She couldn’t shift shape anymore, which was less than ideal, but it didn’t mean she was helpless either. Gemma could fight back, or maybe even outsmart Urbanus, even in her human form.

The trick would be to anticipate him.

How could she do that without knowing his goal?

She thought about the toad’s question. Was she part of Urbanus’ plan, key to it, or an obstacle? She couldn’t be an obstacle yet, because he would have simply killed her when he had the chance. He’d let her live, although he’d disabled her ability to shift shape. That implied that he still needed her, and that he wanted to control her until she fulfilled her usefulness to him.

She was pretty sure he’d intended to consummate their marriage, and would have done so if the toad hadn’t saved her.

Did they share the goal of securing the alliance between Incendium and Regalia by marriage? Or did Urbanus believe that the child of their union would be able to save their twin planets from destruction? Or did he simply want to cement the alliance between their planets, given the reliance of Regalia on Incendium? If any of those were the case, he’d need her to survive at least long enough to bear their son.

He wanted to keep her on Regalia, that was clear, and under his control. Her dragon powers would have given her the ability to escape, so had to be undermined. Was her power gone forever? Gemma didn’t want to think about that possibility, but it was worth consideration. She doubted that Urbanus wanted her to regain the ability to shift shape any time soon, if ever.

The toad had mentioned an antidote, which implied that the spell would hold unless she found the antidote. How would she find it without the toad’s help? She didn’t know nearly enough about either spells or Regalia. Her assumption that she wouldn’t be on the planet long now seemed foolish.

She didn’t blame the toad for expecting better of her.

Arista would have expected better of her, too. She’d let her confidence keep her from making contingency plans, and now she was in a predicament with no way to let anyone know. All her comm, even her interpreter, had been stripped away after the wedding ceremony. Urbanus had charmed her mother when he’d called them distractions to romance. Gemma had ceded, sure that she could triumph without them.

She was annoyed by her own gullibility. The truth was that she’d underestimated Urbanus, and that he’d used that to his strategic advantage.

She had to turn the tables on him and escape.

Without the toad’s help.

Did all the toads on Regalia talk? Gemma thought not. Her toad had said it was enchanted. Who was it really? Had it been cursed by Urbanus, too?

Maybe she
should
have kissed it.

* * *

What Gemma didn’t realize was that when she considered kissing the toad, she had touched him on his parietal eye, the mystic third eye also known as the pineal gland. It was in the middle of his forehead, marked by a white spot. Toads saw the world differently from men, but the fact that this toad was actually a man, and one from a family of sorcerers, meant that his parietal eye was particularly well developed.

The touch of Gemma’s fingertip restored Venero’s ability to send dreams.

As soon as Venero realized as much, he wanted to do more than kiss Gemma.

He realized it by chance, when a hawk swooped down toward him as soon as he reached the bank of the river. On impulse, Venero sent a dream to the hawk of a full belly. The hawk swooped down and scooped him up, and Venero feared that nothing had changed. But the hawk flew and flew, carrying him like a treasure, and he dared to believe again. He sent the hawk a dream of flying toward Celo’s hut and dropping him there.

It worked.

Venero could have shouted with glee. Gemma had helped him regain his DreamCasting powers, which might mean that she could break the spell completely.

Maybe he’d misunderstood the notion of true love.

Maybe it was about admiration and respect.

Either way, his restored abilities saved him a lot of hopping, even if he was a bit bruised from the drop.

Venero had forgotten how good it felt to have some control over his own fate, never mind how easy it was to turn the thoughts of wild creatures to his will. He’d first used his skill with woodland creatures, then after practice, had turned to humans. His siblings were another level of challenge altogether.

Venero hoped his youngest brother would be of aid, although influencing Celo would be a greater challenge than tricking a hawk or a cervus.

* * *

Celo was exactly where Venero had expected him to be. He was outside his little hut in the depths of the forest, chopping wood.

Venero’s youngest brother didn’t look much like a prince of the royal blood of Regalia. His hair was longer and his beard was almost to his waist. He was more muscular than Venero recalled, but he’d have to be working hard to survive in the old forest. That told Venero how determined Celo was to never go back to the palace.

Not that Venero could blame him.

Celo’s axe fell with regular rhythm. Venero was exhausted but he hopped the last distance and leaped onto the woodpile.

“Well met, brother mine,” he said, and Celo started.

He stared, then buried his axe into the chopping block and bent to look Venero in the eye. “Not you,” he said grimly, which wasn’t the warmest of welcomes. “Not again.”

“Me. Again.” Venero tried to smile. “Good to see you, too.”

“Don’t you ever give up?”

“Not in my nature, I’m afraid.”

Celo grimaced and spared a glance upward. The trees were dense but far above their branches, the clear blue sky could be seen.

“I wasn’t followed,” Venero said.

“Yet,” Celo noted and he had to concede that possibility. “You promised,” Celo accused, folding his arms across his chest as he eyed Venero again.

“I did, and I apologize.”

“And you’ve shielded your thoughts,” Celo noted. “At least you haven’t lost all of your powers.” He lifted his brows. “Or maybe you’ve met your one true love. Is she beautiful? Demure?”

Venero didn’t answer that. “There’s a damsel in distress that I need you to help.”

“The lady in question?”

“Urbanus’ new bride.”

Celo grimaced. “Isn’t she in the tower, conceiving his son? Isn’t he busy for once?”

“She escaped.”

“Of course, you had nothing to do with that.” Celo shook his head and went back to his wood pile. “You’ve got to stop challenging him. It never ends well for you.”

Venero ignored that bit of advice, just as he had a hundred times before. “She’s coming this way, and you need to help her.”

Celo turned, his eyes narrowed. “Of course, you had nothing to do with that either.”

“Me?”

The youngest prince propped his hands on his knees and bent down so that his face was only a finger’s breadth from Venero’s toad face. “I don’t need to do anything. And I’m
not
going to do anything that might attract his attention. I don’t need that kind of trouble. Let her run through the forest until he finds her. Let them sort it out themselves.”

“She needs help.”

“She can ask her husband for some.”

“She’s very pretty.”

Celo’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not my problem.”

“I think she is.” Venero lied, just a little. “That’s why she’s coming here.”

Celo pushed a hand through his hair. He couldn’t have looked less cooperative and his words were grudgingly uttered. “What do I have to do to get rid of her?”

“Stoke up your fire. She’ll be wet and needs to get warm. Find some old clothes you can give her and heat up some soup. Then send her to the Queen’s Grotto in the Citadel, as quickly as you can.”

Celo flinched and took a step back. “I can’t send anyone to that place.”

“I thought you wanted to get rid of her.”

“But
there
? You know what Mother does to intruders.”

“Which is why you need to give her your satchel, all packed with food for the journey.”

“I don’t understand.”

Venero tried again to smile. “I’ll be tucked inside.”

Celo shook his head. “Who exactly needs to help her, Venero? You or me?”

“Me. But I have certain limitations at this time.”

Consideration dawned in Celo’s eyes. “What exactly is she to you? Are you hoping she’ll help you?”

“She did already. That’s why I can shield my thoughts and cast dreams again.”

“She kissed you? When you’re like that?” Celo was clearly astonished.

“No, she touched my forehead. It was enough to break part of the curse.”

Celo chuckled. “Lost some of your charm?”

Venero found himself bristling. “I’m doing fairly well, considering the circumstances.”

“But does that mean she’s your true love?”

“There’s no such thing as true love…”

“You’d better hope there is, unless you want to stay like that for the rest of your life.”

Venero had nothing to say to that.

“A little awkward that she’s married to Urbanus, isn’t it?” Celo started to laugh then, which Venero thought entirely inappropriate.

“She’s not my true love,” he said with some annoyance. “But she’s helpful, and I want to help her in return…”