Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) (15 page)

“Neither, thank you very much.” Lincoln stood and glanced at the cliffs that hid Chennuh, shuddering. “I'll stick to this side of the cliff if it's all the same to you.”

“Actually, we do need you, Lincoln,” Kinna said. “We want you to sing Chennuh to sleep while Ayden tries to reattach his broken wing.”

Lincoln stared at her. “Great.” He straightened his tunic. “I wanted to take a bath. But now I've got to be a bloody Dragon orchestra.”

T
he three of
them stood at the top of the ridge, the wind pasting their clothes against their bodies. Kinna shivered; the breezes were growing colder, and winter would be upon them soon. Perhaps they should consider moving into the canyon with the Dragon. She could feel his heat from below.

Ayden motioned to the many ledges of the canyon. “Lincoln, your stage. Where do you want to stand?”

Lincoln swallowed. “If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to keep my lovely Pixie hide uncharred by Dragonfire. I'll sing from right here, thank you.”

Ayden shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He jumped onto the next ledge, and Kinna swiftly followed him.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked, his eyes pinning her.

“I'm going to help.”

“No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am.” Kinna lifted her chin.

“Kinna, why do you have to make everything so difficult?” His gray eyes flashed silver.

Kinna glared at him.
Why do you always slam the door, try to keep me out? I want to help.
She couldn't get her tongue to form the words.

“Stop trying to help.”

The echo of her thoughts lashed through the air from Ayden's lips, and Kinna stepped back. “What?”

“You see me as a project, Kinna, and I'm tired of it. Stop. Trying. To. Make. It. Better.” He stared at her for a moment, and then moved onto the next ledge.

Hurt coursed through Kinna. He wouldn't open up to her. Every time she tried to dip below his gruff exterior, he slammed the door shut and hung a sign with a huge
KEEP OUT
emblazoned across it. Granted, she hadn't started out with him well. Blackmail wasn't the best foundation for trust.

Lincoln began a soft, slow melody. The notes hung like jewels in the sun before sinking slowly downward into the canyon, coating Kinna and Ayden, but especially draping Chennuh with Pixie magic.

The Dragon paced noisily along the bottom of the canyon, and his roars occasionally shook the air. As Kinna watched, Chennuh swayed back and forth, staggered, and crashed into one of the canyon walls before reeling off to the side again.

It's working.
The song grew in intensity and volume, and Lincoln's Pixie voice didn't sound like a Pixie anymore. It was a seashore, and the surf crashed upon the shore with a thundering roll that at once struck fear in the heart and soothed with a rocking rhythm.

Kinna sighed with relief as the Dragon finally slept.

Ayden was nearly at the canyon bottom. Kinna scrambled down the ledges. Even if he didn't want her, she intended to help. Who knew how long Chennuh would stay asleep, and Ayden would need her whether he admitted it or not.

Ayden had reached Chennuh's forelegs where they lay collapsed against the ground, and he tentatively placed one booted foot on the Dragon's scales. Kinna's feet hit the floor of the canyon.

Ayden cleared the massive mound that was the beast's belly. Kinna could see his reflection in the millions of scales at his feet.

Ayden saw her, and anger crossed his face. She held her finger to her lips and hid her smile at the frustration she knew he struggled to keep inside.

The long, tattered wing sprawled across the ground behind her. The stump where the wing had broken off oozed near where Ayden stood. Lincoln's voice echoed off the canyon walls, and Chennuh's eyes remained shut as Kinna slowly reached down and grasped the heavy wing.

Slowly, slowly, she lifted, straining under the weight. In another moment, the rib of the wing was tall enough that she could get her shoulder under it. She hefted it closer to the Dragon's back and pushed it toward Ayden, her arms shaking beneath the load.

Ayden crouched, his gloved hands outstretched. He took the wing and dragged it across the scales toward the Dragon's neck. Kinna watched with her lower lip in her teeth, terrified with every hitch of Chennuh's breath that the great beast would wake and spew out his wrath on Ayden before a mere second of time had passed.

Ayden glanced at her and deliberately placed her at his back, crouching atop the Dragon. Kinna couldn't see what he was doing.

She shifted to the side, but Chennuh's neck blocked her view. She hurried around the Dragon's tail, stopping near Chennuh's forelegs, but Ayden was finished with whatever he'd done. He rose to his feet, straightened his gloves and leaped off the Dragon. The wing was intact.

“You fixed it,” Kinna said.

He held a finger to his lips, but it was too late. Kinna's voice broke the spell woven by Lincoln's song, and Chennuh woke. An earth-shattering roar erupted from his maw. A sharp intake of breath preceded the burst of Dragonfire. Kinna spun, too late, and braced for the heat.

Instead, something heavy hit her from behind, and she and Ayden landed beneath a ledge in the canyon wall. Fire roared past them and then disappeared in a whirl of smoke.

Kinna's face rested in Ayden's sleeve; his gloved hand gripped her arm. In a second, he released her, scooting as far from her as the constricted space allowed.

Lincoln's voice took over again. Chennuh weaved drunkenly past them, and once again, collapsed.

Ayden rolled into the open, motioning Kinna out after him. Together they climbed the ledges, arriving finally at the top, out of breath, out of energy. Kinna flopped on the shelf.

“How did you fix it?” She'd seen that he had no tools, nothing that could possibly mend a broken wing.

He shrugged. “I reattached it. Now it just needs to heal.”

Kinna swallowed, the terror of the fireburst finally hitting her. She pushed back the impulse to cry. That was silly. She was fine ... thanks to Ayden. She blew out a breath and glanced over at him. If he hadn't tackled her, dragged her under the shelf, and sheltered her from the flames, she'd be charred Pixie meat. He'd saved her life.

Her shoulders slumped, and she slid her eyes shut. She'd demanded to help him. She hadn't helped him at all.

“Kinna.”

She looked up. He was watching her. “Thanks for your help.”

She managed a wavering smile. “Any time.”

W
inter blew
into the Ridges of Rue with a vengeance, and Ayden woke one morning to cast a worried glance at the gray skies that draped like chain mail over the mountains. The wind bit his exposed skin with an icy bite, and even the fire he kept burning near the copse of trees did little to pierce the cold.

He shivered, blowing on his hands to warm them. The Griffon Pass continually nagged at his thoughts. Thus far no other Griffons or their Dimn had appeared, but he wondered how safe they were, especially since he'd let the two witnesses of his curse go free. More and more, he felt the pressure to move their company into the canyon's haven.

A quiet sob pulled his attention to Kinna's form where she lay huddled next to the fire, her back to him. Her hand swiped her eyes, and she turned her face into her arm to muffle more cries.

Alarmed, Ayden stood, looking quickly around the camp for the source of her disturbance. He froze when his glance fell on the copse of trees where the horses had roamed for the first several weeks of their stay.

They were gone.

A curse left his lips, and Kinna sat up, her face white and strained.

“Where are the horses?”

Kinna's twisted her hemline.

“Kinna?”

The poor creatures had been growing thin. The river-grasses fed them, but they'd had no regular exercise, and he'd been worried about letting them roam free in the marshlands with the mud pits hiding beneath still puddles.

“They're gone.”

“What do you mean, they're gone?” An iron ring seized his stomach.

Kinna stared across the river at the mountain peaks nearby, her white face still beneath her fiery hair. “I set them free. Told them to go home.”

“You did
what
?” He crouched in front of her. “What possessed you to do such a thing? How do you expect to get out of the Rues? Crawl?”

Her green eyes flashed to him, beautiful in their tear-stained state. “No, I
expect
to leave the Rues on the back of a Dragon. But the horses would never survive the winter here; we have no feed for them. And Chennuh won't be in any shape to leave for a long while yet. It was a choice of watching them die here or setting them free and hoping that they make it back to civilization on their own.”

Many angry words presented themselves to Ayden, but he discarded them.

Her hand reached for his arm. He jerked it away, stepping backward. Hurt flashed across her face, and she stood. “Please, Ayden, I thought it would be best. What else were we to do with them?”

“You could at least have told me your plans.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“Not likely.”

Another tear slipped down her cheek, tracing its way into the corner of her mouth. “Render wasn't just a horse, Ayden. He was my friend, too. I didn't make this decision lightly.”

Her shoulders rose in a silent sob. Against his will he placed one gloved hand around her back, cradling the back of her head with the other. He pulled her toward him and rested her head against his chest, careful, oh so careful to keep his neck and chin free of her skin. He couldn't tell her that she had most likely condemned the horses to death anyway; it was unlikely that they would survive the Rues on their own.

She cried in his arms for a long time.

Lincoln interrupted them. He arrived, cold and dripping from his bath in the frigid waters of the creek, his cheerful whistle pulling Kinna abruptly out of Ayden's arms, her hands swiping at her tears. She turned to the fire, and Ayden wondered if the color in her cheeks was really from the heat.

Ayden slid his knife from his belt after breakfast, running his thumb along the edge. “I need to go hunting,” he finally declared.

Kinna glanced up at him. “But your traps feed us well, and Lincoln can call fish to him anytime we're hungry.”

Ayden shook his head. “It's for more than that. Chennuh hasn't eaten much since we've arrived, and while his body can go without food for a long time, it will eventually catch up with him. The few fish and rabbits we throw him won't hold him for long.”

“But we're in the middle of the mountains. Where are we going to come up with anything larger?”

“Well, horses might have been useful, if we had them,” Ayden said scathingly.

Kinna flushed.

Ayden nodded toward the eastern hills. “The Griffon Pass is that way. The Clan lives in the foothills of the Rues and they keep an eye on anyone coming or going along that Pass. The Rues themselves are formidable enough to keep the Trolls and Goblins out of the Griffon Clan’s backyard, so their attention is rarely to the west. Besides,” he flicked a stick into the fire, “it will only be one of their cows or sheep here or there. Nothing more than what the wolves pick off. An entire cow will hold Chennuh for two to three weeks for sure.

Kinna's hand moved to her hair. She smoothed it over her shoulder, separating it into three thick swaths, and began braiding it. “What if the Griffondimn catch us stealing their livestock?”

Ayden watched her nimble fingers fly through the vivid red strands and shrugged. “Then our winter will end a little differently than we anticipated.”

Kinna's attention followed her fingers as they neared the end of her braid. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “What is your story, Ayden? How long were you at the Dragon keep?”

Ayden held his gloves close to the flames, enjoying the warmth as it seeped through the leather. He stared into the bed of ashes. “Tannic took me in when I was fifteen. Before that, I made a living as a street-fighter in the Clan...”

“You were a street-fighter?” Kinna's startled voice pulled his glance her way. Her mouth hung open.

“Does that surprise you?” He returned his gaze to the fire. “I did what was needed to survive. When I was younger, hunting brought in decent pay. People would pay upwards of ten gold sceptremarks for a good deer hide. I started to fill out around the time I turned twelve, and I found that fighting made even better money. A winner's purse was thirty sceptremarks.”

“What kind of fighting?” Kinna asked, her voice soft.

Ayden picked up a stick and stirred the fire, his mind roving over past years. “Hand combat, wrestling, blades of all sizes, archery competitions—you name it, I did it. It took a lot to survive the streets, Kinna, especially at the beginning.”

“Of what?”

“Sebastian's rule. As soon as Nicholas Erlane forced Sebastian to flee to West Ashwynd, there was no order in the new country. You think our laws and Sebastian's enforcement of them now are bad; it was a thousand times worse then.”

Kinna sank onto her knees near Ayden, and he stiffened, shifting away from her. She didn't seem to notice. “I don't remember. Not much anyway. I only remember things ... in my dreams. Horses, darkness, and mist. Hoofbeats behind us, drawing closer...” She shuddered. “Had you no family?”

Ayden dropped his stick into the fire and stood. “No.” Pain unintentionally wept through the fibers of his voice, and he wrangled his emotions into a stranglehold.

Kinna rose, too, coming to stand directly in front of him. Her green eyes shimmered with sympathy. “I'm sorry, Ayden. I can't imagine what it must have been like.”

He met her gaze squarely. “I survived because I had to, Kinna. I have a debt to repay, and I had to stay alive so that I could someday repay it. So that means I've done things that no nice, well-brought-up Pixiedimn girl would ever dream of.”

Anger flared hot through the moisture in her emerald eyes. Her lips grew rigid. A silent second passed before she spoke. “Well, this well-brought-up Pixiedimn girl embarrassed her entire Clan and fled her loving parents to train a Dragon in the heart of the Rue Ridges. Don't tell
me
what I would dream of and what I wouldn't. You don't have any idea.”

She stalked to the copse of trees, bending to swipe branches from the ground. When she returned, her expression was calm. “What are you going to do, Ayden?” she asked as she fed the sticks into the flames one by one.

He stared at her. “I just told you. I'm going to go hunting, probably in the Griffon Pass.”

“No, I mean over the long term. Did you chase Chennuh into these mountains to live here with him, happily ever after?”

Understanding washed over him. She wanted to know the purpose behind all of this. Because if he was gearing up for the winter, then there must be no plan to return to The Crossings or the Dragon Clan.

Ayden again shifted a log with his foot while staring at the leaping flames. “I don't know,” he said, answering her real question. “I lived so long in the Dragon Clan, and it feels good to break away from it for a while, to stretch my wings and soar on my own. But ... I think someday, I'd like to go back, to prove to them that...” He stopped, all at once realizing he'd said more than he intended to say. “Besides, if I go back now, they'll only see me as the Dimn who helped the King's prize Dragon escape. I'd be walking right into a hangman's noose.” He glanced into Kinna's green eyes, and he saw that she understood the story behind the words. “What about you?” he asked. “You ran away from a family who loves you. Think you'll ever go back?”

Kinna shrugged. “Someday. When people have forgotten about me, when they've moved on from the latest gossip and scandal, and when they find a new whipping boy.”

Ayden could hear the hurt in her tone, knew that her nonchalant attitude was merely a front for a much deeper ache.

Lincoln had been standing by the edge of the fire, drying his dripping clothes, turning to evenly coat the material in heat. At this comment he chuckled. “Pixiedimn don't keep whipping boys, m'lady.”

“Of course not.” Kinna flushed. “I just meant—”

“He knew what you meant, and I did, too.” Ayden dusted off his gloves and reached for the fish Lincoln had begun roasting. “Let's eat, and then I'm going to see what I can find near the Griffon Clan. Kinna, I'll leave you in charge of the Dragon. I should be back late tonight if I have good luck.”

Kinna shook her head. “I'm coming with you.”

Ayden halted his movements. “No, you're not.”

She planted her hands on her hips, her battle stance, Ayden had learned. “Yes, I am.” She enunciated each word as if he were slow to understand.

Ayden motioned to the cliff. “Who's going to take care of Chennuh?”

“Lincoln.”

“Lincoln?” Lincoln squeaked.

“Yes,” Kinna turned on the Pixie. “Lincoln. Come on, you can sing him to sleep if you have to get close to him. Besides, I think he likes you.”

The Pixie snorted. “For dinner, certainly. He's tried several times for roast Pixie leg with a side of orange hair for dessert.”

Kinna clasped her hands together in front of her. “Oh, come on, please, Lincoln? We can't leave him completely alone, and Ayden needs my help.”

“No, I don't,” Ayden muttered. The other two ignored him.

Kinna took one last shot. “We'll only be gone a few hours, and I'll look for more of the Rueberries to bring back for you.”

She'd hit Lincoln's weak spot. They'd discovered a hedge of the small, orange berries that grew only in the Rues, and Lincoln had fallen in love with them. Within a day he'd picked the bushes clean, and since then he had bemoaned their loss many times over.

Lincoln plopped on the ground with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Have it your way. You were going to go with him anyway; don't know why you felt you needed my permission.”

“I just needed to get you to feed Chennuh.”

Lincoln popped up again. “Now, hold on, I never said—”

Kinna swiftly kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Lincoln, I owe you one.” She faced Ayden, who had watched the whole conversation. Kinna had the effect of a whirlwind as she blew through opposition and reasoning, always leaving him a little breathless as she hurtled past his arguments.

She smiled at him. “I'm ready to go.”

Ayden stared at her and then lifted his face to the gray winter skies above, raising his voice to the heavens. “Why do the Stars persist in tormenting me?”

“Oh, come off it,” Kinna huffed as she wedged the cooking stone next to the fire to begin heating it for the fish. “You know you wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Oh, wouldn't I?” Ayden clamped his jaw shut and strode toward the copse for more wood.

I
n the previous
weeks Ayden had worked hard to construct a bow and several arrows for his use. A few hickory, ash, and birch trees lined the wooded area where they had gleaned firewood, and he had cut a green hickory bough from one of the trees, soaking it in water and bending it to form the perfect shape. At night, after his sessions with Chennuh, he returned to the campfire and whittled birch arrows to make straight shafts, evenly weighted across their lengths. The bowstring was trickier.

He'd had to kill several squirrels to find one whose hide satisfied him, and it took a while to cure the hide and stretch it until it could tie to both ends of the bow. When it was done, however, it was a thing of beauty, crudely made though it was.

As he'd told Kinna, he could handle weapons, but this was the first time he had ever tried to make his own. He was proud of his success.

Now he carried the arrows in his gloved hand, the bow strung over his shoulder as he crossed the creek at the narrowest part and began wending his way through the grass. Kinna followed just behind him. When they reached the trees on the far side of the grasslands, Ayden took delight in twitching aside the branches to pass through them, releasing them so they swung back into Kinna's face.

It didn't take her long to hurry around him and lead the way, and soon, he was the one with branches in his teeth.

“Look, truce,” he finally called. Kinna turned back to him, one fine eyebrow arched upward on her forehead.

“I beg your pardon? I couldn't hear what you said through your mouthful of leaves.”

“Funny,” he growled. “As you can see, the trees are bare of leaves.”

She cocked her head to the side, her green eyes surveying him. “Fine. I couldn't hear what you said through your mouthful of bark and twig.” Her lips hid a smile, but not well. Her brilliant hair contrasted with the dead winter trees around them.