Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) (26 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

Kallon plunged toward the earth with a single purpose; to split it open. The arena was carved from Mount Gore, designed to encircle its heart. If bloodstone crystal pumped through this heart, the crystal would be nearest the surface at the arena floor.

It swelled into view below him. He bowed his head to thrust his crown of spikes at his target. Closer the ground came. He strained to move faster.

Voices filtered through the whistling wind in his ears. “Look! Kallon!”

“Is he falling?”

“Move aside! He is heading for the crowd!”

The gathered dragons frantically scattered out of the way. A patch of trampled dirt cleared directly below him. He aimed for this. Then treetops and stone walls and sparkling dragon scales blurred past. He hit.

A thunderclap burst between his ears and reeled him senseless. After a moment, he realized he was lying on his side on the ground. He moved his head. He shifted to his feet. Nothing was broken.

Not even the ground. There was a massive dent. His horns had scratched away deep ruts, but there was no gaping crack to offer a peek of bloodstone. He staggered, still dizzy, then reeled about to try again.

The look of shock on a nearby Green made him pause. He looked from face to face among the dragons surrounding him. They all stared, mouths agape. Were they so surprised to see him? Had they expected him to be gone longer?

Orman wedged through to stand at the front of the circle. “Kallon?”

“Orman, I need the bloodstone. I can save her. Have the others stand back, I’m going to try again.”

“Kallon Redheart,” said Orman, one hand outstretching. “Have you gone and dipped yourself in sparkles?” Orman’s hand gingerly touched Kallon’s jaw.

“Have I what?” He looked down at his forelegs, and then his chest. His familiar red scales had taken on an unfamiliar glow, as though he’d been draped with a shimmering, golden net. His palms, knuckles, even his claws, radiated with it.

“You made it, didn’t you, my boy?” Orman’s wrinkled face opened wide with a smile.

As their eyes met, Kallon returned the smile. “Yes. I made it. I met him.”

The staring mass of dragons collectively gasped. They closed in, pressing in suffocating waves. “Stay back!” Kallon cried. “I need the bloodstone! Everyone stay back!”

“Bloodstone?” said a male dragon. “He said stay back, everyone.”

“Move aside,” said another.

“Get out there and help him, Restas,” said a female.

Slowly the throng retreated. Kallon pressed off to fly. He circled around to dive again, but a Blue met him in the sky.

“Let me have a go,” said Restas Blueeyes.

“And me,” said a Yellow, who swung around to join them.

“Me, too!” A young gray female dipped low beneath them, and then swerved to be first in line.

Kallon’s breath was stolen. “Thank you,” he said.

One by one they dropped, shooting for the earth like glistening arrows. Each landing echoed up, followed by a shout of encouragement from the others. Again came Kallon’s turn, and he reared back, drew in a breath, and released a war cry as he plummeted, head thrown back.

He would fall again and again, as many times as necessary, until the mountain relented and gave up that crystal. He would find that place between waking and dreaming where she roamed alone. He would die again if needed. And again. And again.

He slammed into the weakened patch of ground, claws tearing. This time, the ear-splitting crack came not from inside his head, but from beneath him. The earth caved in, then ripped open in a jagged fissure. Dragons cheered.

The crack was the length of Kallon, but only wide enough for him to push in his paw to his wrist. He couldn’t see anything inside it, but he could feel the bloodstone pulsing as strong as his own heartbeat. “Bring the girl. Quickly.”

“You heard him,” Orman said. As a dragon scrambled to obey, Orman knelt beside Kallon. “You’re hurt. You’re bleeding. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Kallon glanced to his paws, and only then noticed the throb of pain from where a claw had snapped at the base of his digit and was oozing blood. “It’s nothing.” He gripped the wizard’s arm, smearing blood on his sleeve. “She’s not dead, Orman. She’s only sleeping.”

Armitage brought Riza. The man’s face was stoic, but Kallon could see the grief in his eyes.

He reached for Riza. “Let me take her.”

Armitage hesitated, and then offered her out.

Kallon took her into his paws. She weighed little more than a bird, and hung listless and pale. For the first time, he really looked into her face, marred by death, and a ragged jolt of pain sliced his heart. Not death, he reminded himself. She’s only asleep.

“Someone get these chains off her,” he snapped, without meaning to.

A ring with a metal key was passed claw to paw, and worked its way to Armitage’s hands, his own still bound in front of him. Armitage knelt and twisted the key in Riza’s cuffs. When they popped loose, he gently removed them from her wrists, and ran his fingertips over the welts left behind.

Kallon laid her on the ground directly over the split in the earth. His heart surged, suddenly fearful. How could he know he’d found the right crystal? How did he know the crystal would work at all? What if he didn’t believe enough?

He looked around at the expectant faces, watching him intently. Breaths were held. Armitage’s hands were clasped together, his jaw tense, eyes filled with warning. Orman, still kneeling, regarded Kallon with strange sorrow, as though waiting to be disappointed.

Kallon looked down into the face of Riza Diantus. Her eyes were closed to the sun. Her mouth was silenced. Her heart was quietly cold. He clenched the linking stone around his neck, and, sure enough, he felt her there, eyes open and searching, heart racing. He snapped the crystal from around his neck and laid it on her chest. Then he bent his face low to her ear and whispered with all the conviction that had been released in his soul, “Wake up, Riza. You want to fly.”

The linking stone exploded with such white, forceful light, he had to turn his face from the heat. Orman and the others turned away too, from what he could see, squinting through the rays. Beneath his paw, he felt a stirring. His eyes darted back, despite the blinding glow, and just before his eyes were forced shut against the white fire, he saw her eyes. They had opened!

“Riza!” His voice was swallowed by a sudden wind that toppled him back against the ground. He squeezed his eyes open once more to find a vortex of air blasting from the fissure beneath Riza, lifting her, her arms outstretched. “Riza!” he shouted again, now worried she’d be snatched away. He reached for her, but was forced back by the wind.

“What are you doing?” Armitage crawled toward Kallon. He’d been knocked back by the wind, as well. Other dragons were struggling to stay upright. Orman was clutching the young Gray, though Kallon wasn’t sure who was keeping who held to the ground. “What have you done to her now?” Armitage shouted through the wind, his bound hands gripping Kallon’s shoulder.

Before Kallon could answer, the wind turned blood red. It folded in on itself, collapsing like a deflated cloud, and immersed Riza in what seemed a bath of blood. “Get her out of there!” Armitage shouted.

Kallon lunged to grasp her arm. When he made contact, a spark jolted his paw and threw him back into the legs of a nearby dragon, who fell back against another. Armitage rolled helplessly against Kallon’s belly and was plastered there. There was an explosion. Crimson light discharged and blanketed the entire arena. Dragons shouted. Some screamed.

Then all was quiet. The crimson wind drained of color and floated above the treetops. In the sky, it twisted once and evaporated. Low thunder rumbled. Rain clouds gathered. The sky heaved a great sigh, and it rained.

“Rain!” cried a dragon voice.

Whoops and hollers broke out, and along the outside fringes of the crowd, wings flapped in celebration. Dragon feet splashed in growing puddles. “It is raining!”

“No,” moaned Armitage. Kallon turned to find the man kneeling beside a crimson dragon who lay on her side in Riza’s place over the gap in the earth.

Kallon froze. The dragon lifted her head and weakly opened her eyes. Eyes as green as the fir trees. “Riza?” he whispered. She smiled and laid her head against the ground.

He couldn’t move fast enough to her side. Was it really Riza? He knelt and touched his knuckles to her muzzle. A muzzle long and sloped, and covered with scales so soft he had to touch them again. Thorny ridges jutted from the top of her head in a spiral like the vortex of wind, and trailed down her neck and between her shoulder blades. His paw followed the path of rainwater down her spine, then smoothed over the curve of her rump, and the slender coil of her ruby tail. “Riza,” he said again, struggling to breathe.

“It was dark there,” she said. Her sultry voice sent a tremble down his spine. “There were voices, and spooky shadows, but I wasn’t afraid.” She reached an elegant paw, watching him. “I was in the dark, but I wasn’t afraid.”

“No,” Armitage said again, and crawled slowly away, his hands and knees splashing mud. “Not this. I’d rather her dead than this.”

“Riza, is it really you? How did…? I did not know this would…” Kallon shook his head. He closed his eyes to clear the rain from them, but was afraid to open them again, for fear the spell would be broken.

“Leland is coming into balance,” said Orman, water dribbling from his beard. “Could have been your wish. Could have been your love. Something vanquished the dark hold over the land. Goodness rains again.”

Kallon opened his eyes. “My wish?” He looked at Riza and was awash again in awe of her form. She’d been a beautiful human, but she was an exquisite dragon. Had he wished it into being?

“The heart makes wishes the head cannot always hear, my boy.” Orman nudged Kallon with his elbow and winked.

Kallon felt his blush rise up from the tips of his toes to splatter across his face. “But it is not my place to decide for her.”

“Kallon,” said Riza, and tugged her paw to draw him close. She gazed up at him and breathed a curl of wispy smoke against his mouth. “Your heart isn’t the only one that makes secret wishes.”

Kallon drew in the sulfur of her breath like perfume.

“Indeed,” said Orman. “Powerful magic. Two identical desires of the purest form. That could do it, I think.”

Kallon heard him, but was sinking into the depths of Riza’s new eyes.

“The others are watching. They’re staring at me,” said Riza. “I’m afraid to move, or to say something. I feel so…big.”

Kallon felt a smile rise up from his throat and burst into a rich laugh. “Don’t worry about speaking to them until you’ve learned their language,” he said. Then he drew her up and held her close against his chest. “Riza. You died for me.”

“I would do it again, if it would save you.”

“I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” He drew back to look into her face. “Don’t you know what you mean to me?” He stroked his paw across her cheek.

She reached her own velvety paw to his snout and smiled. “I love you, too, Kallon Redheart.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Riza clung to Kallon as sheets of rain drenched them both. He didn’t seem to mind, and neither did she. The rain was medicine to a weary, unfamiliar body that still burned from the change.

Anxious shouts worked their way through the group of dragons who gaped at her. Finally, the shouts grew so loud, Kallon released her to turn and find what the noise was about.

Grayfoot broke through the edge of the circle. “Leader Redheart, Fordon Blackclaw is gone.”

When Kallon looked around himself, Riza nudged him. “He means you, Kallon.”

“But I am not—”

“Leader Redheart,” said Orman, placing his hand on Kallon’s shoulder. “It is time for a command decision.”

Kallon looked from Orman to Riza. She smiled and nodded. He drew himself up, planted his feet against the muddy ground, and lifted his chin. Her heart swelled. For the first time, she felt allowed to love him. She watched the rain gather in tiny puddles against his skull and cascade down his neck scales, and she shivered, but not because she was cold.

“Take four volunteers to cover each direction away from the manor,” said Kallon. “Two to search the ground and two to search the air. If he is found, I would like to question him, but if a fight is inevitable, tell your volunteers it should be his death before theirs.”

Grayfoot looked up at the sky. “The rain will destroy his trail.”

“Yes, and when the volunteers grow tired, replace them. We will search through the night.”

“Very good, sir.”

“I will be along shortly.”

Grayfoot nodded, but hesitated. He glanced toward Riza, but his eyes didn’t linger long, instead fixing on Kallon’s face.

“There is no time to lose, Grayfoot,” said Kallon.

“The council members are gathering in the Great Hall, and wish your attendance.” Grayfoot glanced to Riza again. “About the girl. The, uh, Red.”

Kallon stretched his paw to Riza and smiled. “We will be right there.”

Grayfoot shuffled his feet, but didn’t move.

Kallon turned a scowl to the guard. “Blackclaw is gaining a considerable lead.”

Grayfoot cleared his throat. “The female is not…The council members wish
your
attendance.” Then Grayfoot darted another quick look to Riza, spun around, and hurried off.

Riza looked up to Kallon. “I suppose they want to talk about me while I’m not there.” She shifted to move, then tried standing for the first time. She reared up to perch on back legs and lost her balance, her forelegs waving about in crazy circles.

Kallon steadied her. “Slowly. Place all four feet down for now.”

She’d forgotten she had four feet. She settled them, and felt oddly as though she were crawling on her hands and knees. Her vision was high. She felt tall as a tree. She even looked down onto the top of Orman’s gray head. She hadn’t realized how thin his hair was. “This will take some getting used to, but I like it.”

Orman smiled up at her. “You are a lovely Red, my dear. Quite lovely.”

The other dragons nodded and murmured. What she really wanted to know was what Kallon thought. She didn’t ask aloud, but searched his face.

He moved close, guiding her head so he could whisper in her ear. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Their eyes met, and she knew he spoke the truth. She blushed a little, and wondered what they were going to do now.

“I’ll meet with the council, keep it brief as possible, and then we’ll find a quiet place to talk.”

She blinked. “Are you reading my mind?”

“Am I?” He looked between her and Orman.

A young Gray sidled up to Riza, eyeing her. She poked a claw at her foreleg. “Are you real? My mother says you are a trick.”

Riza stretched out her paw for the Gray to inspect. “I am quite real.”

“How come you are a dragon now? I thought humans hate dragons.”

“Not all humans hate dragons.”

“So, how come?” asked the young one. “Does it hurt? Did it hurt when you were in that wind? Were you scared? Are you going to stay a dragon?”

Other females descended and pressed in close. “We saw you die for Kallon Redheart.”

“Is Kallon going to be our new leader?”

“Did you want to be a Red, or was it luck?”

“Are you going to stay? Are you going to be Kallon’s mate?”

Questions came so quickly she didn’t know how to answer them. It took several seconds for her to realize she could understand what each of them was saying. She looked through the chattering females to Kallon.

He didn’t speak, but she knew he understood. He had to go, but he would be back as soon as possible. He didn’t want to leave her. She sensed it. He moved away slowly. “Orman, you will help Riza? She needs rest, and food.”

“I’m starving,” she agreed. She was sure she could swallow an entire pig.

“We can do that,” said a Blue. “We will help.”

“Yes,” said a Yellow. “Bring her to the Manor. We will have a feast!”

The group of females hurried off to leave her with Orman. They’d been the last of dragons in the arena. It suited her fine. She’d been uncomfortable with all the staring.

Orman planted his fists on his hips and looked up at her through the rain. “Are you going to regret this? You know there is no going back.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she said. “There is no life for me as who I was.”

“What if the dragons don’t accept you? What if Kallon becomes a leader of a Kind who won’t let you in?”

“Then I will be my own Kind, I guess.”

“And you are back to where you began, except in a body that you don’t recognize.”

“Orman, are you upset about this?” She settled onto her haunches and tilted her head at this man whom she thought was her friend.

He softened. “No. No, my dear. But when the heart makes wishes without consulting the head, sometimes…”

Riza smiled. “Don’t worry. I left behind a life that didn’t fit me. This is what I want. I think this is what I’ve always wanted.”

“Well, then, I won’t worry.” He returned her smile, though his eyes remained full of doubt. “Let’s eat. I could eat a whole pig myself.” He turned and led her across the sloshing arena grounds.

She was slow to coordinate all four legs, and concentrated on which two ought to touch the ground at the same time. After several clumsy steps, she realized it was easier if she didn’t concentrate, and just let her feet decide. When she looked up again, Orman was gone.

She heard something above the din of the raindrops hitting the ground. At first she thought she was mistaken. The sound was too faint and far away for her to have really heard. It sounded very much like someone crying. She turned to find it.

Several feet into the trees outside the arena, she came across a Brown, stretched across a mound of musty pine needles. The female’s face was wedged between her paws, and her great shoulders quaked. “What has happened?” asked Riza.

The Brown jerked upright. When her golden eyes found Riza, she glared. “You.”

It was the Brown who had stolen Riza from her bath and had given her over to the dragons. The Brown who had begun Riza’s nightmare in the cell. Acid churned in her belly and surprised her.

“You cannot hide your inferior self behind that crimson façade, human. The scent of your fear and weakness oozes through your scales.” The Brown snorted and laid her head against the ground.

“Harsh words for someone who has never wished you a moment’s pain.”

“Wish it or not, you have caused me nothing but.” The Brown grimaced and clenched her legs to her belly with a moan.

Riza surged forward. “What is wrong? Are you injured?”

“Get away from me!”

Riza paused. She crouched and found herself sniffing the Brown, which unnerved her, but revealed the Brown’s pain to her. She reached out to touch the Brown’s distended belly. “Let me help you.”

“I said get away from me! I do not want your help!” The Brown jerked forward and released a sharp cry. “Get out of here!”

“I will not leave you. You are injured. I smell blood.”

“I am not injured,” she moaned. “Please. I beg you to go.” This time, her eyes were dull and frightened. “I cannot hold back any longer, it only increases the pain.”

“Then do not hold back.” She grasped the Brown’s front paw.

“You must leave. Leave, like all the others.” She whimpered, her eyelids drooping. “Leave without saying goodbye, or leave while I beg you take me with you. It doesn’t matter which you choose. It all comes around to the same thing.”

“What does it come around to?” Riza asked quietly.

“I am still alone.”

“You are not alone now. I am right here.” Riza tightened her grip around the Brown’s paw.

“I hate you,” murmured the Brown. “I hated you as the human you were, and I hate you for the abomination you have become.” She convulsed and twisted to her side, claws digging into the back of Riza’s paw. Her eyes churned wild and afraid. “Help me!”

At the base of the Brown’s tail, a trail of dark blood seeped onto the ground. Then a rounded bubble of black swelled from her broken skin. The Brown cried out again.

“When I say, bear down hard.” Riza had birthed enough piglets, and her share of babies. She could do this. One paw went to the Brown’s tail as the other squeezed the Brown’s digits. “Now. Push!”

The Brown grunted. Riza pressed the skin around the black protrusion and it slid out and to the cold pine needles without a sound. An egg. An egg so black and sleek, it seemed made of polished coal.

“Let me see it,” said the Brown, lying still.

Riza cradled the smooth egg, carefully placing it in its mother’s forelegs. She then buried the spilled blood and rearranged the pine needles to cover it. “The two of you should get out of the rain.”

“I should crush it. I should leave it to shrivel.”

“Riza? Riza, child, are you out there?” Orman called from a distance.

The Brown grasped Riza’s paw. “Do not speak of me. Do not speak of any of this. No one, especially my father, can know of what has happened here.”

“You need to gather your strength and get out of the rain. I know of a cave where you can be safe.”

“Tell me you will not speak of me to anyone.”

Orman shouted again. “Riza! Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got yourself lost!”

“Tell me!” spat the Brown.

“I will not speak of this,” Riza said. She crawled back, and onto her feet. “What will you do?”

The Brown closed her eyes, cuddling the dark egg to her belly. “I do not know. Now go, and forget what you saw.”

“Riza!” Orman’s voice was so close, he might find them any moment.

Riza turned to meet him before he had the chance. “I’m here! I’m coming!” She glanced over her shoulder to the Brown, who seemed sleeping so soundly she barely breathed. Rain dropped hard to the earth, splattering mud to her snout and belly, and to the egg. Riza couldn’t stand to leave her.

“Go,” whispered the Brown. “I will be fine. Take the wizard far from here.”

Riza bolted toward the sound of Orman’s noisy steps. “I’m here,” she said, and forced a smile when she found him.

“What are you doing, traipsing about in the rain? You’ll catch your death.” Orman shook his head. “Seeing a Red come trudging through the trees when I call your name will be a sight to get used to.”

“I’m getting the hang of four feet already,” she said. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“I’m not the one holding up the show!”

Riza nudged the old wizard with her snout and smiled. She sent a final, worried glance back through the trees toward the Brown, then drew in a breath and trudged on. “Orman?”

“Hm?” He was scowling at the mud caking around his ankles.

“What happened to Jastin? I didn’t see him when I woke up.”

Orman paused. “I don’t know, child. He was there at first, and saw you change. Don’t recall seeing him after that. It was a bit chaotic.” He stepped over a fat tree root and waved her on. “Perhaps the brute got away. Let’s go find out.”