Unleash the Inferno (Heart of a Dragon Book 3) Read online

  “I would not have you do so,” Kinna said.

  Lord Fellowes's gaze warmed, and he issued a small smile.

  Hazel stepped forward and sketched a bow to Kinna. “Your Grace, you gave me to understand that you hoped to make use of my Pixie charm for this cause.”

  Lord Fellowes stiffened. Kinna laid a hand on his arm. “For our bodily protection only, Lord Fellowes. The Dragons are many and untamed. Hazel is not to use Pixie charm for any other reason.”

  Lord Fellowes nodded slowly. “I can assure you, the creatures will not harm you while the Great Dragons keep them from it.”

  Kinna smiled. “Still, Hazel will come with us.”

  “On one condition only, Your Grace,” Hazel interrupted.

  Kinna's eyebrows arched. “Oh? What's that?” asked Kinna.

  “That Jakkob be sent packing. The dolt has done nothing but trail me like a puppy since leaving The Crossings.”

  Jakkob shoved from the wall where he had been leaning and strode across the room. “What say you?” he snarled in her face.

  She shook her head calmly, peering around him at Kinna. “Do you see his temper? It would be unwise to keep him with us.”

  Jakkob whirled to face Kinna. “I'm going, and no one here shall say me nay.”

  “Jakkob, enough.” Kinna's voice was calm, but Ayden could see the tension in her fists at her sides. “You're overwrought.”

  “I'm overwrought?” he shouted. “I've just said I'm going with you and the Pixie to the Dragon Valley, and no one can keep me from it.” He took a step toward Kinna, his reddening face shoved right in front of hers. “No one, do you hear me? Not the Pixie, not your Dragondimn lover, and not you.”

  Kinna's face stilled into granite lines; two spots of high color rode on her cheekbones. “Jakkob, a calm and rational temper is especially important in times of pressure and war. You are showing me that you cannot be trusted to maintain yours. No matter that Helga sent you to help us; if you cannot keep your temper, I cannot use you.”

  “So you're really the Queen now, are you?” Jakkob sneered. “You've been hearing 'Your Grace' here and there and everywhere, and now you've got the high instep to go with the title? Deigning to lower yourself to speak to me, a Trolldimn everyone knows the Crown has hated for time immemorial?” He raised a finger and pointed it directly in Kinna's face. “I bow to no one, Andrachen or otherwise.”

  Ayden's fury boiled over. Ice shot across the room from his fingers, wrapping the Trolldimn's arm in a case of frozen water half an orlach thick. Following the ice, fire flew to Ayden's hands, and he allowed it to grow, weaving it among his fingers as he approached Jakkob.

  Jakkob yanked his dark gaze to him, and for the first time, Ayden saw the hint of fear in their implacable depths.

  “Apologize,” Ayden demanded. His voice could have cut iron.

  Jakkob's lips trembled just a bit, but didn't part.

  “APOLOGIZE, wretch!” Ayden's shout ricocheted off the walls. Hazel's audible gasp followed it. Lord Fellowes watched from where he stood tensely beside the table.

  “Ayden, I'll handle it.” Kinna's quiet voice kept Ayden from striking the Trolldimn. Kinna's hand touched his arm, and beneath her cool fingers, Ayden allowed the burning flames to fade into oblivion.

  Kinna turned to the dark-haired Trolldimn and pointed at the open doorway. “Apologize at once, Jakkob, or you're out. You can go back to West Ashwynd, and I don't want to see your face ever again.”

  Jakkob's expression turned to marble. His arm in its icy cast trembled. Ayden wondered what thoughts warred beneath his sour exterior.

  After a long, silent moment, Jakkob's lips parted only a crack. “I beg pardon.”

  “Of whom are you begging pardon, Jakkob?” Ayden bit out.

  Jakkob glared at him. “I beg pardon... Your Grace,” he muttered.

  “Too late.” Ayden gripped the Trolldimn's shoulder. “She's not interested in your apologies.”

  “Ayden.” The note in Kinna's voice burned him.

  Ayden's jaw locked as he forced himself not to argue.

  “It is my place to forgive,” she reminded him quietly, “as his offense was against me.” She turned a cold gaze back to Jakkob. “I will allow you to accompany us to the Dragons' Valley, but I expect that I will hear no more of this.”

  Anger thrummed through Ayden, heating his blood again, but with an effort, he stepped back and deftly twisted the Ice-Touch. The cast of frozen water dissolved into a puddle at Jakkob's feet.

  Jakkob nodded sullenly. “I am grateful, Your Grace.”

  Hazel folded her arms. “I said I would go only if—”

  “Hazel!” Kinna's voice whipped across the room. “Enough. Stop playing these childish games.”

  Hazel's face froze. A long moment passed before she stiffly bowed. “Aye, Your Grace.”

  Lord Fellowes's breath of relief sounded from behind them. Ayden turned as the older man approached. “Everyone is set to go, then?” he asked. “The Valley of the Dragons is fieldspans to the east, and it will take us some time to get there. Night will certainly have fallen.”

  “Aye.” Kinna nodded. “We should be going. Ayden,” she turned to him. “Safe journey.”

  Surprise flashed across the faces of the other three room occupants. Ayden paid them no heed, taking Kinna's hand and softly kissing the back of it. “You are sure of this, Kinna?”

  “Aye. Jakkob will protect me with his swords,” she ignored Ayden's dubious look, “because Helga trusted him enough to send him, Ayden, and she didn't place her trust lightly. Hazel has the Pixie charm. If we are accompanied to the Dragon Valley with the Great Mirage's own psuche partner, then we have nothing to fear.”

  Ayden traced the soft planes of her face, agony ripping through him at the thought of leaving her, even for a short time. At last, he bowed. “I will return as soon as possible, Kinna.”

  Kinna smiled, raising herself on tiptoe and softly kissing his mouth. “That's all I will ever ask of you.”

  When Kinna, Hazel, Jakkob, and Lord Fellowes left for the Valley of the Dragons, Ayden did not accompany them. He watched from Lord Fellowes's terrace as the quartet made their way to the eastern gate of Allande, Hazel's pink hair bobbing alongside Kinna's flame red mane on one side and Jakkob's spiky black hair on the other.

  Ayden didn't know which of them he mistrusted the most, but both struck a dark chord deep inside of him. He turned his mind to call Luasa with misgivings echoing through him.

  Chapter Seven

  Cedric

  Cedric had little practice with thievery, and he wondered for the hundredth time in the past several days why Helga had assigned him such a mission. He settled deeper into the mulch of dead leaves and decayed bracken, pressed to the ground as he peered over the top of the hill. Ember patrolled the skies far above in the brilliant sunlight, so high that he was a mere speck above the few fluffy clouds that floated lazily above.

  Ashleen lay fifteen or twenty lengths from him, equally concealed beneath a hedge of spruces. She motioned to the path below them, and Cedric tensed.

  The heavy roll of carts neared, and Cedric's muscles tightened in anticipation. Three wagons rolled into view. Each one was loaded with a massive chest of wood and iron, and two guards sat on the front of each cart, two on the rear. More guards walked beside the horses at the front of the procession, their gloved hands gripping the animals' halters, leading the horses along the root-strewn path. These wagons carried the payroll, the first delivery since a portion of Lismaria had been sold to Sanlia. The wealth should be vast; Kayeck had assured them that such a haul would make a dent in Sebastian's armies. Without pay, the soldiers would leave.

  Cedric trusted Kayeck. He had to. He had to know that there was someone who was true to the mission, someone among the Seer Fey who still pulled for them, who still guided them. Helga's words floated through his mind: A Dryad carried a letter from my Seer Fey sister...

  The first heavy wagon caught on a thick r
oot that cut through the trail, and one of the cart-horses stopped, shaking his head in the halter, snorting loudly. One of the guards yanked on the halter. “Come on, you stubborn beast,” he snapped. “'Tis only a root.”

  Cedric glanced at Ashleen again. She shook her head in a hardly-noticeable movement. Cedric relaxed just a bit, absently rubbing at the Amulet's chain on his neck. It pained him, sometimes physically. The Amulet seemed to associate with his thoughts: the more he struggled against the idea of taking the throne, the more it burned him. He'd awakened that morning with blistered, reddened skin beneath the Amulet's weight after a night spent dreaming of relinquishing his role as the Andrachen heir and fleeing to the wilderness. Ember had come with him. And Ashleen.

  He'd squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, burning the wish from his mind. He and Ashleen could never have such a relationship; he refused to carry on the Andrachen cruelty so evident in Sebastian and his line of forebears.

  The breeze whispered through the branches of the trees, cloaking the sound of his own breathing. The carts bounced closer, the progress slow over the uneven, root-strewn path. Cedric quickly counted the weapons. Each guard carried a spear, each had a sword sheathed at their belts.

  But that wasn't what worried Cedric most.

  Bringing up the tail of the party was a she-Dragon—a blazing Ember who stalked the woodland trails leaving blackened footprints behind her. Her wings unfurled above her head as if she were preparing to take flight, and flames licked from her mouth across her muzzle as she swiveled her head side-to-side, searching the woods.

  Cedric's hand tightened on the hilt of his own sword, and a bead of moisture trickled down his temple. He glanced at Ashleen again; he could see the tip of her bow next to her. She slowly moved it into position, fitting an arrow into the string, staying hidden behind the veil of spruce needles.

  Cedric hadn't counted on the she-Dragon; Sebastian was generally so protective of his Dragons that he rarely used them for anything less than full-on battle in a major military maneuver. To use a Dragon—an Ember, one of the rarer breeds, no less—was unexpected.

  At least, the creature's presence confirmed Kayeck's tip-off that the carts carried more wealth than usual.

  Use your Dragon-speak. The thought tumbled through his mind like water, and Cedric flinched. It wasn't his own voice, and it wasn't the voice of anyone he knew. It generated from his chest, from the thing hanging on it.

  The Amulet burned hot against his flesh. Command the Dragon and watch her grovel. See her cowed beneath the Andrachen name.

  “No!” Cedric whispered, his fingers whitening as he pulled the Amulet away from his chest, staring at the pendant dangling from its chain. The eye seemed to stare through him; pain seared him.He ripped the chain from his neck, dropping it into the leaves, his heart thundering in his chest.

  Helga's voice filtered through his memories. You must take the Amulet but resist its compulsions, from which I cannot shield you. Until it is destroyed, it will try to control you.

  He steadied his breath, at least reaching for the Amulet, sliding the chain back over his head, closing his mind to the thoughts it seemed to exude. His jaw cramped, and he pulled his sword closer. He wouldn't use his Dragon-speak. They'd given him the name Dragon-Master for a reason. The creatures would bow to his spoken word, no matter what they felt—a compulsion that forced their wills into subservience. Cedric hated it. Ember hated it, and so Cedric strove never to command anything.

  But the Amulet called to his survival instincts, and Cedric couldn't shut away the voice. It's the only way. If you don't command the she-Dragon, you will die here. Ashleen will die. Your Ember will die. Use the power at your fingertips. It is yours for the taking.

  Again, Helga's clear eyes swam before him. We cannot use the Amulet in our quest to upset the throne; it is now evil, and its effects are evil. Its... polarity... has shifted. She had placed the Amulet under the only protection from Sebastian she knew to do—the taibe maze he and Ashleen and Ember had passed through only days ago. Now that he had it again, it had to be destroyed—before Sebastian could regain it, before the Seer Fey in league with the him could take it to use its power.

  Desperately, Cedric looked to Ashleen. Her bowstring was pulled back to her ear as she sighted carefully along the arrow. She glanced at him, waiting, he knew, for his signal. He tightened his jaw and gave it.

  She released the arrow, and it flew straight and true, burying itself in the throat of the foremost guard. The man jerked his gloved hands to the arrow that sprouted from his neck, slumping sideways into a puddle on the ground.

  The scene turned to chaos. Another quick arrow joined the first, slamming into the second guard, bringing him to the ground as well.

  The guards on the carts leaped free of them, drawing their swords. The one nearest the Dragon had a bow and a quiver of arrows. He notched one swiftly and released it in Ashleen's direction. It hissed into the spruce directly in front of her, and Cedric saw Ashleen flinch. It was too close for comfort.

  Ember, now! Cedric leaped to his feet, tearing down the hill toward the cart, his sword raised high. Another arrow whizzed over his head from the guard at the back, and he heard Ashleen shout.

  He dared not look, terrified of what he would see. He charged full-tilt into the guards at the first cart, swinging his sword in powerful arcs. The first guard was taller than Cedric, but weighted with armor. Cedric swiftly found a weakness; he buried his sword in a seam in the metal. The guard screeched as the blade severed his shoulder muscles. He dropped his sword, clutching his wound, staggering backward against a tree.

  Cedric pulled his weapon free and turned to the other guard. The soldiers behind swarmed toward him, and on the edge of his vision, he saw Ashleen flying down the hill, her own sword drawn in her left hand, blood soaking her right arm. An arrow must have hit her drawing arm, or she would have stayed picking off guards from the hill.

  “Go back, Ashleen!” he shouted above the clamor. She ignored him and plowed into two guards who ran around the second cart toward Cedric. Her left hand swung as deftly as he'd ever seen her right do, and Cedric turned with renewed determination to the guard who struggled against him.

  The she-Dragon tossed her head in fury and sent a billowing blast of fire toward Cedric and Ashleen. It hit them both, but didn't faze them. Ashleen's clothes smoked, but she blew the hair from her face and continued fighting. Cedric felt the warmth and once again heard the Amulet's prodding. Use Dragon-speak, Dragon-Master!

  No!

  A scream from above jerked everyone's attention skyward as a gigantic ball of flame fell from the sky, bowling into the she-Dragon and slamming her to the ground.

  Ember roared furiously, and the sound echoed through the trees, shuddering the earth beneath their feet.

  With an answering roar, the she-Dragon recovered her footing, and the two gnashed at each other, swiping at the other's flaming scales with their razor-sharp teeth, each struggling to reach the soft muzzle that would allow them entry to the vital parts beneath their hide.

  The guards panicked, their shouts keening through the woods. The she-Dragon had been their fail-safe. They had counted on her to blow any enemies into a fiery mass, and their defensive plan lay in ashes at their feet.

  Cedric slammed his sword into another guard, grabbing a spear off the ground and hurling it into the helmet of an on-coming attacker.

  Ashleen dispatched two more guards, and there were only four left. Drawing near the girl, Cedric fought on her left flank as they drove forward. Ashleen still wielded only a sword, but Cedric clutched another spear, taking a jab from a guard before driving it through his leather breastplate and then quickly finishing off the last guard with his sword.

  Blood ran thick over the dead leaves on the path, and both Cedric and Ashleen panted as they stared at each other.

  Ember and the she-Dragon continued to fight furiously behind the carts, their roars and burst of flame billowing into the surrounding tr
ees.

  “Let me see your arm,” Cedric said, reaching for Ashleen's hand that dripped crimson liquid.

  She flinched as he lifted her hand, tugging backward, her breath hissing through her teeth. “It's nothing.”

  “Nothing doesn't bleed like that.” He gently peeled her sleeve upward, his lips tightening as he found the source of the blood—a long, deep trench that ran clear from her elbow to her shoulder. “What happened?” he asked calmly. The roars of the Dragons echoed around them.

  “An arrow bypassed the spruce I was behind and grazed me. I couldn't pull my arm back to my ear anymore. So,” she shrugged. “I switched to my sword.”

  A smile tilted Cedric's mouth as he took two steps toward one of the horses whose lead rope had caught in a low-branched tree. The panicked animal reared and plunged to no avail, trying anything to get away from the flaming Dragon brawl behind the carts. Cedric calmed him, holding the quivering horse by the halter until he could unfasten the saddlebag. When he'd freed it, he untangled the lead rope and let the animal run. The horse thundered up the path.

  Cedric searched the saddlebag, pulling out the ever-present bandages required of anyone in the army. He tore off a length with his teeth. “Of course, you'd be as good with a sword in your left hand as you are with your right.”

  Ashleen smiled as he knotted the material above the deepest part of the wound, watching his fingers deftly clean her arm of excess blood before wrapping it. “I've had many opportunities to practice.” She changed the subject, glancing at the Dragons. “You don't seem worried about Ember.”

  Cedric chuckled low in his throat. “No. Ember wasn't two minutes into the fight before he'd won, but the she-Dragon is full of fiery show. She had to make it worth the fight. I hear Ember's thoughts. It's more of a victory dance now.”

  A final roar resounded, and Cedric turned his attention to the two beasts. The she-Dragon crouched, panting on the ground, her head turned carefully away from Ember, watching him from an angle. The scales above her huge eyes rippled every time Ember moved.