Embrace the Fire Read online

  He ignored the guards as he passed between them and jogged down the stone stairs. He soon outdistanced the guards by many lengths, though he could see them behind him when he strode along the corridor outside the apothecary's chambers.

  Cedric pulled in several deep, steadying breaths, cooling his fury. Lives hinged on what he needed to do next, and he couldn't afford to be blinded by anger.

  He entered the apothecary's chambers. A glance over his shoulder showed the guards waiting next to the pillars on the far side of the portico.

  Ashleen sat on the edge of the cot, her fingers spinning an empty herb cannister. Relief spread over her face when she saw him. “I didn't know what had taken you so long.”

  Cedric cleared his throat. “Is the apothecary about?” he asked without bothering to lower his voice.

  Ashleen shook her head. “Nay, he has taken His Grace his sleeping tonic.” Her wide, dark eyes surveyed his face. “It's tonight, is it not?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Are you ready for this?” He checked the guards. They stood beneath the portico, excellent targets with their chests and leather fully facing the door. Interior palace guards didn't wear metal armor, only those on the walls.

  Fire flashed in Ashleen's black eyes as she threw her shoulders back. “I am no weakling, Dragon-Master.”

  “Don't call me that.”

  Strained silence fell.

  “I'm sorry,” Ashleen said after a moment. She set down the herb cannister. “I feel fine. The apothecary said I'd healed nicely—thanks to you.”

  “It had little to do with me,” Cedric said. “But I'm glad you're better.” He turned for the loose stone in the wall, the one he'd discovered the night after he'd arrived, and pulled it aside. He reached into the interior where he'd hidden the two crossbows he'd stolen. Handing one to Ashleen and taking one himself, he pushed the stone back into place. “We only have one shaft apiece. We cannot miss,” he breathed.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I do not miss, Your Grace.”

  Cedric hid a smile. “On my count, then.” In the shadows of the doorway, they took aim. A soft three, two, one sank into a whispered thunk. Both guards folded to the ground with a low groan, their leather vests each sprouting a thick arrow.

  Cedric set aside the now-useless crossbows. Gripping Ashleen's hand, he pulled her onto the sheltered portico. “To Ember,” he breathed, walking swiftly, slowing only a little as Ashleen's breath quickened beside him. She may have said she was completely healed, but she had yet to regain her stamina.

  He found the stairs and descended three floors to the lower dungeon levels where Ember waited for him. He could feel the Dragon's presence as he paced his den, impatient for freedom, curious about the silver-eyed man who sat against the wall, both of them hoping for Cedric's appearance.

  Cedric held the door for Ashleen when they reached the corridor, his gaze sweeping the darkened hallways, his ears listening for foreign footsteps. All was silent but for the heavy snorts of Dragons as they huffed in their dens. There were eight Embers in Nicholas Erlane's keep. His Ember slept at the end of a hallway at the juxtaposition of two corridors. Through every door, he could see the ever-flickering orange fire from the different Embers' scales.

  Cedric paced down the hallway. Ayden saw him first, though Ember had already sensed his presence. Ayden grasped the iron bars of the den door, eyeing Cedric as he drew even with him.

  “You could have warned me, you know,” Cedric muttered as he closed in. “Sent me a message the same way I sent you one.”

  “There was no time.” Ayden nodded at Ashleen. “You must be the maid with the tracking spell.”

  “Aye,” she answered.

  Ayden's silver gaze measured her. At last, he nodded. “If we're to escape tonight, this is the quickest method. I had no time to find another Dryad in another tree. And you would have had no way of knowing that Lincoln awaits you, and he is prepared to take you to his mother to fix the tracking spell upon your escape.”

  “How is Kinna?” Cedric asked, sliding a knife from his boot and picking at the lock.

  “She is well. Naturally, she hopes to see you before the night is out.”

  “You're fortunate Ember didn't make a meal of you.”

  “I'm fortunate that you have already achieved psuche with the Dragon. I didn't worry that he would eat me.”

  Ember snorted an irritated huff from the back of the den, denoting that he had at least considered it.

  We'll soon be free, Ember.

  Cedric pulled the knife free from the door, frustrated. “I can't ever get that to work.”

  “Here, let me.” Ashleen took the knife. With a few deft twists, the lock clicked, and the thick bars of the door split, yawning into the dark corridor. “These locks must have been wrought by West Ashwynd locksmiths,” she smirked.

  Ayden grinned, and Cedric flushed as he took the knife from Ashleen's proffered hand and slid it back into his boot. “I'll learn.”

  A chuckle left Ashleen's throat that quieted quickly.

  Ayden glanced into the black hallway. “Do you plan to storm your way out on Ember's back?”

  Cedric shook his head. “There are two sets of guards and two heavy doors to bypass before we gain open air. I'd planned to have Ember play dead with me accompanying him to the courtyard to dispose of his remains. Of course, I did not anticipate having you along. However, if you pull your mantle up and keep your head down, you'll pass as one of my Dimn. I hate to do this; it will require a direct order from me for Ember to play dead, but he'll forgive me for it.” He walked into the den where Ember awaited him, rubbing his hand over Ember's flaming snout. A deep rumble shuddered through the Dragon's throat.

  “Ember, want to come?” He smoothed his hands up the flaming neck, allowing the heat to soak into his bones, and then he led the massive Dragon into the corridor.

  Ashleen and Ayden had disappeared for a moment; when they reappeared, they had chains wrapped over their shoulders, leaning their weight into pulling a low, flat cart over the cold corridor stones. It was one that was commonly used to carry animal carcasses to the Dragons during their feeding periods, and was kept in a utility entrance near the end of the hall.

  Cedric waited until they'd pulled the cart in front of Ember. He braced himself for the words he knew he must say, but hated to. He disliked commanding any of the beasts to do anything, but most especially, he hated commanding Ember. The Dragon hated it, too, as he'd let him know the few times he'd done it previously.

  He took a deep breath. “Ember,” he pointed to the cart. “Lie on the cart and pretend death.”

  The Dragon froze, and then slowly, painfully lumbered forward. Strong resistance flowed through the Ember's thoughts; Cedric knew it would take several days of soothing treatment to get past this.

  “I'm sorry,” he muttered as the Dragon collapsed across the cart, head tilted at an awkward angle on the cart's corner, tail dragging on the stone flooring. The scales slowly smoldered to ash-gray as the Dragon concentrated fully on quieting his flaming hide. Cedric wondered how long Ember could maintain the absence of fire; he felt the creature's strain.

  “Are you all right, Ember?” Cedric asked quietly.

  The Ember didn't acknowledge him with even a snort. He truly was pretending death—true to his obeisance, the blood of the Dragon strictly in covenant to its treaty with Aarkan the Firebringer. The body lay still, and it took all three of them, heaving with all their might, to pull the heavy Dragon down the corridor on the cart.

  “Will the guards know who I am?” Ayden asked quietly, pulling his mantle farther over his face as their footsteps sounded along the stone corridor.

  “Not these,” Cedric said. “They may have heard that there was a disturbance in the last training session, but you won't be recognized. If they ask, just tell them you're one of the newer Dimn.”

  The first set of guards stood nearly half a fieldspan from Ember's den, and true to Cedric's command, the Dragon didn't stir
. When they reached the set of doors, the guard greeted him with a nod. “Dragon-Master.” Cedric's insides flinched as they always did when he heard that name. “A dead Dragon?”

  “It looks that way,” Cedric said.

  The guard didn't ask anything else. He and his partner swung the gates open, and the three of them leaned forward on the ropes to pull Ember through.

  “One down, one to go,” Cedric murmured to the others as soon as the doors had closed behind them. The boom sounded along the corridor. Cedric shuddered. He didn't like the sound of closing doors; it seemed so final.

  They approached the second set of guards cautiously. Cedric was mindful that they were far from the other Dragons now, and only Ember could fight if called upon. None of them had weapons; Ayden had been stripped of his when he'd been locked in Ember's den.

  Cedric drew to a halt as they came to the guarded door, giving the pull chain some slack over his shoulder. Ember's tension raced through his head, but a quick glance at the Dragon showed no sign of life.

  “State your names.”

  “Cedric, Dragon-Master and two assistants. One dead Dragon for disposal.”

  The guards each walked all the way around the cart, checking for anything out of place. “Proceed, then.”

  Cedric breathed a sigh of relief and waited as the two guards dragged the doors open.

  Five spans stood between them and the open courtyard. Guards would be present on the walls, but their arrows would do little if they could lift off quickly enough. It would be close, but escape was far preferable to remaining prisoner within Erlane's palace walls.

  “You two, go ahead,” Cedric said, his voice low. “I'll follow from behind. Ayden, be ready.”

  Ayden nodded. Cedric tossed his chain onto the cart and stepped to one side as Ayden and Ashleen pulled the cart forward. From behind, Cedric pushed.

  The dark open courtyard waited, and Cedric scanned the walls, searching the high windows for movement. The moon's light both helped and hurt their cause. Cedric's hair stood up on the back of his neck as possible disasters flashed through his mind.

  Another few steps, and they would be in the clear night air with no roof or chains to hinder them.

  Then came the moment he'd been dreading. “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Cedric licked his lips. “Cedric, Dragon-Master; I have a dead Ember for disposal.” He told the lie because his lips had prepared it, but panic snapped along his spine. The guards were too close; they wouldn't be able to lift off in time.

  Footsteps scuffed at the opposite end of the courtyard, and a man emerged, holding a torch high. Several more figures stood behind the man, their hands on swords. Suspicion glowed in the man's eyes. Cedric glanced at the walls above. More guards paced there.

  “Who are the two you have with you?”

  Cedric didn't have time to answer. Ayden's hands erupted into flame, and heat shattered outward from him in a wave that nearly knocked Cedric over. Around the courtyard, anything wood went up in fire—carts, support pillars, wagons. A pile of straw in one corner flared high and fast, and Ayden heaved the cart forward into the clear space. The arched opening into the courtyard burst into white-hot flames, and the cart slid the last few spans through a tunnel of fire.

  Shouts rang out as the force of the heat tossed men backward like poppets.

  “Go!” shouted Cedric. “Now!”

  Ember no longer lay a passive heap on the cart; his scales flamed as he crouched in the middle of the courtyard, sending rivers of fire at any unlucky person who got in his way.

  Ashleen grabbed one of his wings and swung herself up, helping Ayden to climb up as well.

  “Cedric,” Ashleen called, her hand outstretched to him.

  He ran toward the Dragon, so intent on swinging onto Ember's back that when the harsh impact hit his shoulder, he didn't at first recognize what had happened.

  His knees folded beneath him as overwhelming weakness buckled his limbs. He saw Ashleen's eyes widen, panicked; he heard Ember's terror in his mind, watched Ayden crouch, ready to leap back down again.

  “No, no! Go!” Cedric shouted.

  Both Ayden and Ashleen shook their heads, so Cedric once again did what he hated to do more than anything.

  “Ember! Take them out of here, now!”

  And because Ember could not disobey the heir of Aarkan, his great wings unfurled, and like a flaming beacon, he lifted from the courtyard, past the battlements and the fruitless spears and arrows that tried to pierce his flesh and hurtled into the darkness of night, growing smaller and smaller until he was only a speck on the horizon, and then he vanished.

  Cedric's shoulder was numb. He lay helplessly on the cold cobblestones, gasping. He lifted his uninjured arm to feel his wounded shoulder. A long, wooden projectile emerged from it.

  He twisted to look. Sure enough, a bolt from a crossbow buried itself in his clothes. In his peripheral vision, people converged on him, their faces serious.

  One face stood out from the rest; a face he had intended never to see again. He groaned.

  “Greetings, Cedric.” Her musical voice lilted as she laughed at him. “It seems we meet again.”

  “Lianna.” He felt drugged. Weakness spread through his arms and shoulders and up into his head. He had a hard time remembering why he was here. In the distance, he could feel the faint hint of pain; if he moved, even a little, those pain sensors would reveal themselves in startling clarity.

  She bent over him, her white-blonde hair a silver aura around her head. “You are so foolish, Cedric, so quick to act.”

  Cedric didn't answer. The effort would be pointless; he would not convince her of anything.

  “What did you think you would gain, Cedric? You've bought your Dragon some time, but he's a hard one to hide—all that flame. When we bring him back here, and we will, Cedric, I'll assign you the place of honor at his dismemberment.”

  Cedric did struggle then, his booted foot swinging out and contacting hard with her shin.

  She gave a cry and withdrew a pace, and her expression changed from mockery to fury. “The Stars take it!” she shouted. “Cedric, I wanted to speak to you and you're not giving me a chance.”

  Cedric groaned, lolling his head on the pavement, and closed his eyes. Hands lifted him and placed him on something hard, and they carried through the night air. He opened his eyelids as they wended through courtyards and corridors, tunnels and open spaces, gardens, and then indoors.

  He recognized the room right away. He was in the apothecary's chambers; he'd been in here many times with Ashleen.

  But she was gone now. Dimly, he thought he might miss her.

  The hands lifted him off of his pallet and laid him down. The apothecary came in, carrying a basket of herbs. The whole place smelled of them. The scent tickled Cedric's nose.

  Again, Lianna's face leaned over him, and this time, her hand touched his. “Cedric,” she began, but he stopped her.

  “Lianna, you will never convince me to help you again. I don't even want to hear it.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and her blue eyes flashed. “You don't have a choice, Dragon-Master.” He frowned, and she smiled her satisfaction. “You'll lie there for now, injured noble knight that you are, sacrificing yourself for your friends' freedom.”

  Cedric closed his eyes, wishing she would go away. The apothecary gave him some leaves to chew. Cedric did so, not caring whether they offered him any relief from pain or not. No herb would mask the pain that would tear through him when the bolt came out from his shoulder.

  When the pain did hit, it nearly sent him through the ceiling.

  Lianna's hand squeezed his until his scream subsided. The apothecary set to work cleaning and bandaging the wound. Cedric struggled to free his hand from Lianna's, but she wouldn't let go.

  She leaned close, her gaze intent on his. “Cedric, you wield powerful control over the Dragons. If there were anything this whole world over that you would want, something that I could get you, wo
uld you use your command of Dragons to help my uncle?”

  Cedric pulled her closer, staring deep into her eyes. She wanted his answer; he could see the wish shimmering in her eyes. He smiled as he opened his own lips. “Lianna, no.”

  Her face hardened, and she drew back. “Not even for a portion of my uncle's kingdom?”

  Cedric's smile widened. “Not even for that.”

  Her nostrils flared. “You aren't the only way to win this war, Cedric,” she snapped. “And you've just sealed your own fate with your answer.” She stormed from the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sebastian

  Sebastian found his army spread across the slopes, their tents dotting the ridges of the Marron Mountains overlooking ClarenVale. When Sebastian trailed past the creature cages along the perimeter and through the camp formations, he entered the Commanders' tent to find a very nervous Commander awaiting him.

  Jerrus stepped back from the table where he'd been studying a map. “Your Grace! We had no word of your coming.” He glanced out the open tent flap. “Your protective flank?”

  “Are traitors,” Sebastian growled. He was tired and sore. He'd taken leave of Lianna at the summit of one of the mountains, and oddly enough, he missed her. He'd forced her to submit to his passions, but as the day had lengthened, she'd grown supple beneath his hands, and had in the end parted from him with willing kisses of her own. “Where is Lanier?”

  He had told Lianna that Lanier held the Amulet; he needed to tell Lanier to go along with the lie.