Authors: Terry Spear
Tags: #urban fantasy, teen fantasy, teen romance, young adult fantasy
Brett watched the two of them soaring on the wind, wishing he was a dragon flying high over the grassy meadow.
And then…he was sitting in the courtyard, wearing scales of golden armor from the top of his head to the tip of his scaly tail whipping about as Elorian as Freya looked on in shock, his mouth and her beak agape.
Chapter 7
Having to hurry after Ena, Brett roared at Freya, meaning to convey to her to stay there just in case Elorian could come up with a spell to unfreeze Zane and force him to remove the curse on Freya.
Either Freya understood dragon—he wasn't certain he was even speaking in a way that dragons could understand him—she understood what he was trying to express, or she wasn't moving from there, with the hope that she could be changed when he returned.
In any event, she cawed at him, saying, "Go, do what you must." But she didn't sound happy about it. Was she afraid he'd be injured or killed? Or just annoyed that he said he'd help her and then fly away. But he had every intention of coming back to help with her condition,
after
he made sure Ena didn't get herself killed.
He bowed his head a little to Freya in acknowledgement and roared, "Stay safe and I'll return," then flew off.
Now this was flying. As a human, he just moved as if the wind picked him up and carried him. But this was real flying, with powerful leathery wings to flap, and then he soared along the top of shifting air currents. Thankfully, he wasn't afraid of heights and he loved flying ever higher, and then diving down, getting the feel of how he had to angle his wings or body to go in the direction he wanted.
Just to practice, he opened his long dragon snout and summoned up the urge to blow out a long steady stream of fire. Glorious orange and yellow flames stretched out in front of him, heating the air, a curl of smoke rising from it. He shut his mouth, stopping the flame, and was surprised at how easy it was to do. But would he use up his fire? How much did a dragon have? Unlimited amounts? Or was it like a snake that had to manufacture more venom when it used some of it up?
Worse, would he suddenly turn human in the middle of flying so high above? He descended to a safer height. Not that if he fell from the sky even this high up as a human, he wouldn't kill himself, but at least he might be able to get closer to the ground or a tree or something and make it the rest of the way down. But only if there was some warning to let him know he was turning back into his human form though.
He couldn't see either Ena or Alton at first, but as a dragon, his sense of smell was heightened. He sniffed the air for their scents, then grinned. He could smell them on the currents. He flapped his wings, then soared, and flapped them again. Oh, wow, he loved being a dragon.
Though he shouldn't have wanted this to make a difference between them, a small niggling in his mind told him just the opposite. He desperately wanted Ena to see him in a good way. He knew it was crazy. She was a dragon shifter fae. He was a phantom fae mage who just happened to turn himself into a dragon by some means still unknown to him. Still, he wished she would see him more than just the human prisoner still. A troublemaker that could do nothing but cause more trouble for her.
***
Ena couldn't believe Brett was one of the phantom fae. She had wondered if that had something to do with them wanting him in payment for their safe passage though the phantom fae territory. But to have him killed because of his family's heritage? She would have him stay with her—as long as he didn't cast spells on her staff, more than he had already. And what of them? They better not have returned to the dragon fae kingdom in an attempt to help her fight the war.
They weren't trained for such a thing and she didn't want them harmed. Besides, she was a fierce dragon shifter and her word was law!
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw what looked like a dragon flying in her and Alton's direction.
The sunlight reflected off his scales, a shimmering gold, making him appear regal and showy. She turned and flapped her wings in a stationary pattern, watching as the unknown dragon grew closer. Who was he? Or she? He was big, like Alton, so the dragon had to be a male.
Alton rejoined her, his tail whipping around in agitation, his dark brown eyes narrowed. He was ready to rip into the dragon if he got near them.
She growled low, telling Alton to keep his cool. Unless the dragon attacked, they would treat him as friend, not foe.
The dragon approaching them grinned. Dragons had a different way in which they used their facial muscles to show expressions just like the fae did. One way would be a baring of teeth in a menacing aggressive manner. In this moment, the golden dragon was smiling broadly. his beautiful, captivating blue eyes made her think of Brett.
But it couldn't be.
And yet, he had mage powers now. Kind of. What a disaster if it
was
him. She could just see him in the middle of helping them to destroy a supply train and he would lose his ability to be a dragon and plummeted to his death. Or she risked life and limb to rescue him before he impacted with the ground.
"Brett?" she roared.
Alton smiled, albeit a little wickedly. "If it is Brett, he will get himself killed," he roared. Then he flew off in the direction of the road that would lead them into the dragon fae kingdom.
Alton sounded suspiciously like that would please him to no end.
She shook her head. Each dragon color had a different meaning, and for gold, it meant wealth, wisdom, kindness, and courage. Except for carrying her jeweled weapons, Brett possessed no wealth. As to wisdom, using a spell like that to make himself into a dragon and fly after her was downright foolish. Kindness, he did have a kind heart and definitely the courage to face challenges head on.
She let out her dragon breath in a huff, and a curl of smoke rose from her nostrils, then she flew off after Alton. What would be, would be and they'd have to deal with the consequences no matter how bad they ended up being.
***
Brett knew Ena didn't trust in his instincts, but he had this locked down. He could do this. While he was a dragon, he couldn't undo the ice spell on Zane. Well, even when Brett wasn't a dragon, he couldn't undo the ice spell. In the meantime, he wanted desperately to help Ena and watch over her.
While he did that, Elorian would look in his spell books to see if he could find a way to teach Brett how to undo what he had done. Besides, he hated to think Ena would be out there alone, sure, with Alton, but Brett was certain he could protect her flank better while Alton was busy destroying wagons. And not watching over her.
Not that Ena would feel the same way. Brett halfway expected her to be annoyed with him for following them into battle.
But no matter what, he was doing this.
When he saw them, he was worried the way that Ena turned to observe him that she wouldn't know it was him. Then Alton wheeled around and joined her, as if protecting her. They must have known he wasn't anyone that would give them any trouble when they turned again and headed for the main trail going through the woods.
The two of them got way ahead of Brett, knowing just how to fly on the currents to add to their speed. He was having a time getting it right. He could fly, but he didn't have the maneuverability or speed that they did. Most likely because they knew just how to use the air currents to their advantage. Unlike with him—it was hit and miss and he got it wrong more than right.
Shouts warned him Ena and Alton were in the midst of a battle ahead on a trail winding through the forest. Blasts and explosions sounded, and then the whirring of bolts shot into the air.
"Hit their wings!" someone shouted.
Brett's heart thrummed furiously and he worried he wouldn't be able to protect Ena in time. Brett shot forward again, listening to the shouts and the sound of panic, saw curls of smoke, and heard the burning of wood as it crackled and popped. Then he saw Ena going after an archer while Alton burned a wagon. But another archer was now aiming at Ena from one of the trees behind her.
She couldn't see him since she was so focused on the archer running from her now. He was baiting her for the other archer, or he would have just vanished.
Brett didn't want to kill the phantom fae archer so he blew fire in front of him. Startled, the archer whipped around and saw Brett.
The man gaped at him, and then he instantly vanished.
Brett flew after Ena, who had lost her prey and was flapping in place, staring at him. He was afraid she was angry with him for not incinerating the phantom fae who could have shot her. "It's just me, Brett," he roared, still unsure if he had dragon speak down right, and he realized she probably wouldn't be certain it was him either.
She made a wide berth around Brett as if she wasn't too sure of him, and then headed toward the wagon train again. Because she didn't confront him, she must have thought he was safe enough, and she had to get back to Alton and her business here.
Brett flew after her, realizing the new problem he faced. He really couldn't outright kill the phantom fae, not unless one of them was trying to kill him. It wasn't the same as killing monstrous creatures or anyone who attempted to murder them. Well, in this case, the archers were doing their best at it. But this time, he knew them. Not by name, but he'd seen them at archery practice and saw them eating in the Great Hall. He just couldn't kill them when they were protecting their supply wagons.
Brett figured Ena wouldn't be happy with him at all.
He realized more and more how important that was to him. That he wanted to impress her in every manner possible. That she saw him in a good way. He didn't even care if she still saw him as her prisoner. He wanted her to notice him. But not in a bad way.
When they reached the wagons, they were all in flames. Brett instinctively flew down to free the horses from the burning wagons. Alton was staring at him as if he'd never seen a dragon before. Neither dragon shifter helped him. While struggling to free the horses from the closest wagon, the fae all gone, he noticed Ena and Alton were keeping an eye out for archers.
But they missed one of them. A sneaky archer was hiding in a tree. Even Brett hadn't seen him until it was too late to stop him. Hammer was a crusty old phantom fae archer, who still got out and practiced with the younger ones and gave them training tips. His gray beard was braided, and some of his long, shaggy hair was also. He had gray eyes to match and they were narrowed on Brett as he pulled back the bowstring. Brett was close enough to hear the vibration of the bow as it stretched, whereas Alton and Ena were not.
Didn't Hammer realize that Brett was freeing the horses, so the phantom fae could use them again? He was saving their lives?
At first, Hammer had his crossbow aimed at Brett, while Brett turned away from him and continued to bite through the ropes holding the horses, too concerned about them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hammer twist around and aim at Ena. Brett flamed the tree the man was in, far enough below him to make him vanish. Brett didn't want to incinerate Hammer. But he couldn't allow him to hurt Ena.
The tree exploded in flames beneath the fae.
But Hammer had loosed two bolts at Ena anyway, then vanished. Brett shot into the air to stop the deadly bolts. He could do nothing else at this point.
He didn't know his own speed. Instead of intercepting them with his snout, as he thought to dive at them and grab them like he was a big dog fetching sticks, he got way ahead of them instead.
He knew his mistake before they even broke through his protective scales and penetrated his flesh and two stabs of excruciating pain shot through him.
Chapter 8
The golden dragon couldn't be a dragon shifter, Ena told herself as the archer vanished before she could turn him into toast. She and Alton flew toward the ground to see to the downed dragon, two deadly bolts wedged into his side, blood trickling out, staining his beautiful, glistening, golden scales a bright red. He had spoken to her when he was protecting her from an unseen archer, but in an ancient language she didn't understand.
And then he had been tender-heartedly releasing the horses, though she knew the fire would have set them free and none would have been injured.
But for him to have put himself in mortal danger by flying in front of the bolts meant for her? Why would he have risked his life for a dragon shifter he didn't even know?
He hadn't killed the archer either, but missed him when he flamed the tree, as if he had been trying to avoid hitting the man, only wanting to scare him into leaving. What was wrong with him?
Tears filled her eyes. He saved her life and now was on death's door.
The dragon wasn't old. His ridged spine hadn't peaked yet like that of very old dragons. He was muscled and large like Alton, but he still looked to be no more than their age. So she didn't believe he had made a mistake in missing the archer due to an advanced age.
Who was he? She'd never seen him before. He wasn't one of the dragon shifters who were members of the dragon fae kingdom. She felt terrible for him as she and Alton checked him over and heard his heart beating, but way too slow. She moved around to take hold of his legs. Looking back, she saw Alton watching her, then he positioned himself to take hold of the golden dragon's hind legs. She gently wrapped her claws around his forelegs and led the way, while Alton held onto the wounded dragon's back legs, and they flew him to the hawk fae kingdom.
Twice, the golden dragon had attempted to protect her, well, hadn't just tried but had done so. She prayed the hawk fae healers could heal him, and that he wouldn't die. She'd never seen a dragon so badly injured who had survived.
His heart was beating so slowly, she was afraid they were losing him as his blood dripped over the sands of No Man's Land on the way back to the hawk fae kingdom. The sandworms were amassed and frantic to reach them, the blood putting them in a state of frenzy, like blood dripped into ocean water drew sharks.