Enflamed (Book 2) (15 page)

“Yes, odd, I know. She seemed
much bigger when I first met her, back when I was a boy. It’s as if I kept
growing and she stayed the same size. Or maybe she shrank....”

Omari chuckled. “She did not
shrink. You grew. She did not. It is normal. Do not ask me why. It is the
nature of some familiars.”

“Very
strange.”

“Perhaps the magical bonds
between a familiar and its master have something to do with its growth. I
really do not know. It is a mystery that even the masters have not been able to
unravel. Why are you worried, anyway? Do you not realize how big fruit bats
are? Miele certainly would not be able to sit on your shoulder as she does
now.” Omari grinned, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

Kaijin took a moment to
scrutinize Omari’s appearance by the glow of the reading light. He looked
slightly older than Kaijin, but not by much—a few years, perhaps. Omari was
lean and athletic in build. His angular features and especially his slightly
slanted eyes and high cheekbones reminded Kaijin of his mother. A string of
black tattoos ran from the left side of Omari’s hairless head down his left
cheek to his jawline. He was dressed extravagantly, in long, flowing turquoise
robes emblazoned with abstract designs along the hem. A symbol, which Kaijin
didn’t recognize, was embroidered prominently on the sides of the garment’s
shoulders. Omari emanated a strong odor of ozone, as though he’d been struck by
lightning. The smell wasn’t too overwhelming, however, and Kaijin was soon able
to ignore it.

Omari closed his spellbook and
laid it aside. He dismissed the light, then ran his hands over his face and
rubbed his eyes sleepily.

“So, why are you
really
looking for a Dragon, anyway?” Kaijin asked.

Omari paused and looked
between his fingers at Kaijin, then dropped his hands from his face. “That is
none of your business, Kaijin.”

“Something tells me you’ll be
walking right into trouble.”

Omari sneered. “And what is it
to you? Why in the confounded hells would you care?”

“I don’t.” Kaijin shrugged
lightly. “I’m just curious about what a Dragon would want with you.”

Omari grumbled. He fished in
his bag, pulled out a small handful of rations, and held it out in front of Percival.

Kaijin briefly bounced his
gaze from Omari to Percival, who happily nibbled on the nuts and dried fruit,
then fixed his gaze on Omari, awaiting his response.

Their eyes met, and Omari
frowned
.“
I see you will not stop pestering me about it
until I tell you. If you really must know, I need to have my staff enchanted by
the Dragon that lives atop one of the peaks of the Mallowyn Crags.”

“Truly?”
Kaijin blinked.
What an adventure that must be.
“That sounds very ... perilous.”

“It has been, thus far, but I
feel as though I am very close. In order to be deemed a full-fledged mage at the
Citadel, one must undergo a series of tests—for example, tests of strength,
skill, perseverance, and wisdom, among many others.”

Kaijin nodded slowly.
I
wonder if a Dragon would know about the
orb?
“Why
must you do this alone?
And why a Dragon?”

Omari rolled his eyes and
huffed. “Because that is what the masters instructed! I must do this alone if I
am to pass my test.” He raised his nose at Kaijin. “But someone like
you
would not understand that.”

“Someone
like me?”

“Someone who
is not a student of the Citadel.”

“Surely, they didn’t mean for
you to venture across these hazardous lands alone. That’s why they sent escorts
with you, yes?”

Omari opened his mouth then
quickly closed it, retracting his initial reply. “Well ... yes. What is your
point?”

Kaijin thought a moment. It
was a sound plan. A Dragon with all its wisdom would be the perfect one to
consult. Besides, who on Exodus would not, in their lifetime, want to meet one of
the goddess’s greatest creations? “Perhaps we should travel together.”

“You hardly even know me,
Kaijin.”

“Does it matter?”

Omari thought for a moment.
“No, I suppose not.”

XIII

Aidan watched the first signs
of dawn peek over the horizon and realized he had only a few minutes left
before his watch was over. With no further incidents happening during the
night, he took the opportunity to get a few extra winks of sleep. He nestled
beneath the willow tree, the only spot around camp he found remotely
comfortable, and closed his eyes.

His brief nap no sooner began
than it was interrupted by Nester’s unintelligible muttering. Aidan opened his
eyes and spotted the brownie in the branches above.

Nester’s
pointed ears twitched as he huddled on a sturdy
branch, sleeping soundly despite his position. The morning light touched his
eyes, and he shifted to his side, moving his face away from the light, mumbling
incoherently. His ears twitched again as he groaned and turned on to his back,
sending leaves fluttering toward the ground.

Aidan swatted away the shower
of willow leaves that tickled his tough skin. He turned his attention to the
rest of the camp, where Omari, Zarya, and Kaijin lay near the ashy remains of
the campfire.

Aidan sniffed once and turned
his head. Outside the camp, he spotted shadowy movement.

“Oy, what a night,” Nester
mumbled from above.

Aidan half-watched from out of
the corner of his eye as the brownie leapt nimbly from the branches and landed
beside him. Aidan’s attention stayed riveted on the shadows. “Strange. Aidan
smells honeysuckle again.”

“Aye?
Well Zarya’s sleepin’ way over there. Your nose must
be keener than
a
’ound’s, it is.”

Aidan shook his head. “No, it
is not Zarya—at least, Aidan does not think so.”

The nearby bushes rustled, and
Nester started. Aidan tensed. A figure emerged from the shadows and approached
them, silhouetted by the morning sun. A tiny glint of light played over the
steel edge of an arrowhead.

Startled, Nester reached into
his boot and slowly withdrew a small shiv. “This ain’t exactly what I wanted to
wake up to this mornin’, mate,” he muttered.

Aidan grabbed Nester by the
jerkin and tugged him backwards. “Wait,” he whispered, frowning from the
brownie’s actions. Aidan snorted once and narrowed his eyes at the stranger.
“The honeysuckle.
That smell is coming from him.”

“Wha—?
The one who ’as an arrow aimed
straight at us?!”

“Yes. Now, stay your weapon,
Nester.”

“But—!”

The stranger, who kept his arrow
nocked and aimed at them, stepped into the open light. The man’s features were
almost unnaturally perfect. His pure white skin looked silky and smooth, devoid
of blemishes. On the breast of his worn, shoddy traveler’s clothes was
embroidered a stylized symbol of a Dragon.

His slanted, silvery eyes
glittered in the light as he stared at Aidan.
“
Darasv
?
Svabole wux tyrryr tenpiswo
?”
His deep, gruff, throaty voice rolled every syllable in an animalistic way.

‘Half-Dragon’?
Do they mean me?
Aidan blinked and tilted his head, somehow recognizing and
understanding the language—a language that sounded so clear to him, much more
than
Common
, and he didn’t know why or how. “
Yugon
ve
?” he replied.
“‘
Darasv
’?”

The stranger’s eyes narrowed.
“
Batybot ui svabole wux re, ui coiy ti
?”

Aidan opened his mouth to
reply, but then closed it and glanced askance at Nester.

“What in th’ soddin’ ’ells is
all that gibberish?” The brownie looked between the stranger and Aidan,
bewildered. “Sounds like nothin’ but growlin’ an’ snarlin’!”

“He is wondering why Aidan is
here, Nester,” Aidan muttered, not taking his gaze off the archer.

“You mean
,
you actually
understand
all that?”

Aidan ignored Nester’s
question.
“
Nomexnoi resija thuryrli.
Petrynas puxdout laraek mojka.
Yth jatyli
thric levniym.
”

The stranger’s thin lips
pursed, and he slowly lowered his weapon.

Aidan bowed his head. “Thank
you, sir.”

“So, my ears were not
deceiving me before. You
can
speak Common,” the man said.

Nester scoffed. “You call
that
‘Common’? It’s ’ard enough tryin’ to understand ’alf
th
’
soddin’ things ’e says!”

Aidan turned to the brownie.
“Aidan speaks Common just fine.”

“See! There you go again! For
once, can’t you just—” Nester stopped in mid-sentence.

Aidan turned back around to
see what bothered Nester, and two more figures appeared behind the stranger.
Steel glinted and magic shimmered from them.

“Look out!” Nester warned the
archer. He flung his shiv toward one of the figures, who grunted.

The archer gasped. He re-aimed
his bow at the brownie and loosed an arrow.

Aidan heard a grunt beside him
and turned. Nester lay on the ground clutching an injury in his arm from which
blood was already beginning to trickle.

* * *

Kaijin awoke to the sounds of
a commotion. Opening his eyes, he discovered Aidan faced off against an armored
swordsman and a woman wielding magic, while Nester lay pinned to the ground
under the foot of an archer. Kaijin looked to Omari and Zarya, who had both
sprung up, observed the fray a moment,
then
rushed to
assist Aidan and Nester. Kaijin stood, about to follow, when he paused and
looked to the orange-painted sky. He heard Miele shriek and saw her silhouette
flutter out of sight.

“What’s going on? What do
you see?”
Kaijin felt a sharp pang in
his mind.

Groaning, he closed his eyes.
He briefly saw the sky before whipping around to an aerial view of the camp. He
could see the intruders—two men and one woman—bearing weapons and magic. The
swordsman and mage flanked Aidan, while the archer towered over Nester, aiming
an arrow at his face. The scene zoomed toward the archer, and Kaijin felt
alarmed. The erratic images made him sick to his stomach, and he sensed Miele’s
panic.

The faster they descended, the
harder his heart pounded, until they collided violently with the archer’s face.
The archer screamed in pain, and as they zoomed away, he saw blood dripping
from a wound across the bridge of the archer’s nose. Nester leaped up and fled,
and the sky once again filled his vision.

“Miele?
Where are you? Where am I? Am I flying? What’s
going on?”
Kaijin heard a high-pitched screech in his mind in response, and
suddenly he was plummeting again.

Again, they flew at the
injured archer, his eyes wide with fright,
who
fumbled
with his bow and took aim—that time in Kaijin’s direction.

Kaijin saw the archer launch
the arrow, and the scene immediately shifted back to the sky, climbing higher
again, away from the danger.
“Miele!
Was he
aiming at you? What’s happening?”

Sharp pain lanced through his
mind, followed by the sensation of his heart dropping into his stomach. The
red-orange skies spun above, and then, everything went black.

* * *

Kaijin gasped and quickly
opened his eyes. He clutched at his chest, instinctively gripping the glowing
necklace beneath his robes. He gazed at the battle scene from where he lay and
spotted the archer yanking an arrow from the soil. Kaijin groaned. The pain in
his mind was unbearable. He tried to contact Miele, but he was unable to focus.

He saw Nester, Zarya, Omari,
and Aidan lying lifelessly on the ground.

“Thank Celestra your magic
stopped them in time, Sephiya,” the archer said to the female mage.

Sephiya knelt down and picked
up Miele’s limp body from the ground, then locked her gaze on Kaijin.

The archer rubbed the open
wound on his nose, stroking it until it magically mended. Turning, he assessed
the unconscious bodies. “They didn’t give us much of a choice, it seems. It’s
unfortunate that a half-Dragon and even one of our own had to get caught up in
this bloodshed.”

The male warrior limped over to
Nester and prodded him gently with his foot. The brownie didn’t move. The
warrior glared at him for a moment, then gripped the hilt of a tiny dart that
was lodged in an opening in the metal plating of his armor. With a groan, he
yanked it out.

“Sigmund, are you all right?”
the archer asked, approaching the warrior.

Sigmund nodded and examined
the bloody shiv briefly before tossing it aside.
“Nothing
vital.
I will survive.” Placing his hand over the injury, he closed his
eyes. A faint, blue light glowed from his fingers and suffused the wound,
mending. “I don’t see any Legion marks on the brownie. What about the others?”

The archer rolled Omari over,
uncovering Percival, who lay beneath. The weasel was curled up in a tight ball,
shivering. “We will probably have to strip them all down to find out.”

“There’s no time, Evan,”
Sephiya said. “They will only sleep for a short while. Our sister and the
half-Dragon will awaken much sooner.”

They are alive?
Kaijin eyed his companions once more. Part of him was
relieved, but it didn’t counter his wariness of what their fate—and possibly
his—would soon be.

“If they are not Legionnaires,
then we must question them,” Evan said. “They may know something about the
recent killing.”

Sigmund huffed. “And if they
are
Legionnaires, then this will not remain hidden from the Mistress.”

The Mistress—do they mean
the goddess?

Sephiya rubbed her chin. “I
think it’s best we let
Her
make that assessment.”

“I’m still wary about bringing
these people into
Her
lands,” Evan said. “At this
point, however, we’ve little choice. We can’t just let them go now.”

Sephiya approached Kaijin.

Kaijin lay on his side and
didn’t move. He stared helplessly at the slender woman who drew nearer and
studied him. Her unnatural perfection gave
her a
strong
resemblance to Zarya. He felt drawn to her beauty, yet something about her
repelled him. In her hands lay Miele, bloody and with a fresh arrow wound in
her chest.

Kaijin gasped softly. His
mouth barely moved as he murmured, “Mi ... mi ... ele ...” He shuddered and
held his own chest again. Though he had no physical wounds, the pain felt real.
Why is this happening?

As if in answer to his
question, memories of his youth flooded in.

“She is your familiar—an
extension of yourself. Any harm that befalls her will incur extremely painful
consequences in you.”

“What kind of consequences,
Master?”

“Think of it like cutting
off your own arm. Stabbing
yourself
in the chest. The
shock is unbearable. You will feel her pain amplified. Words cannot explain the
horrific sensation.”

Kaijin blinked out of his
trance and realized Sephiya was still staring at him. She tilted her head, her
glittering, diamond-like eyes darting from him to Miele and back again.

“Yours, I presume?” she asked
in a soft, yet commanding tone.

The throbbing pain that shot
through Kaijin rendered him unable to speak, and he let out a loud groan in
response.

“No matter.
You’re coming with us, as well.”

Kaijin finally succumbed to
the pain. His eyes shut, and he felt his body go limp.

The last thing Kaijin heard
was the woman’s distant voice uttering a single word: “
Teleporto.
”