Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (35 page)

She
had
arrived too late.

Those two holes in his arm were brilliantly red, burning red, swollen and angry. She could see the glisten of venom on the wound and knew it was inside his body as well. She fell to her knees beside him and closed her mouth over the wound. She sucked then spat out venom, repeating the move over and over and over again.

Snow cried out three times in rapid succession, and Chandra recognized her brother’s sign. It might be time to leave Myth and this realm, to return to Asgard, but she ignored the bird. She had to help Thorolf. She tried to surround the wound with her hands, keeping the venom from spreading, but she could see that she was failing.

She worked, aware that he was becoming colder with every passing instant. His breathing became more shallow and his heartbeat both slowed and became fainter. She heard Snow make a different cry, but didn’t have time to attend the falcon. She put her hand on Thorolf’s chest and the silvery radiance of the firestorm sputtered to mere sparks.

She pulled the last arrow from her quiver, worked the point free and discarded the shaft.
Berkana
was the rune carved on this one. She felt it beneath her thumb. A rune sacred to her, a rune symbolic of regeneration and new beginnings. Once again, it was perfect for her purposes. She put it in Thorolf’s mouth and held his jaw closed, willing him to take power from the stone.

Was it her imagination that the firestorm flickered with new life?

It must have been because a heartbeat later, Thorolf began to shift shape, rotating between his human and dragon form. Chandra knew that was a sign of distress, but it was better than him being dead. She placed both of her hands on his chest, desperate to revive him. The sparks of the firestorm sputtered and faded to mere embers.

“No! You can’t die!”

“But he
will
die,” a woman said from beside Chandra. She jumped in shock, then looked up to find Chen beside her in his female guise. The woman in the cheongsam with the red fingernails held Snow’s tethers in one hand, while the bird flapped in a futile effort to escape. Chen seemed amused by the falcon’s efforts, then turned that cold smile on Chandra. “Even better, he’ll die slowly.”

“How did you get here?”

“Either you left the door open, or the
Pyr
are a step closer to becoming myths themselves.” Chen didn’t seem troubled by that possibility.

“Won’t that doom you, too?”

The woman laughed lightly. Her eyes were hard, though. “Don’t worry about my survival. I have everything I need now.”

To Chandra’s horror, Thorolf stopped shifting. He remained unconscious and in human form, looking so pale that she feared he really was dead. The tattooed spirals covered his torso and his arms, darkening and thickening of their own accord. Chandra was alarmed to see that his skin would be completely black with the tattoo soon. What skin was still visible became paler and paler. The two marks on his arm from the serpent’s bite glowed red, pulsing in a way that was just not right. He looked sepulchral, as far from his usual vital self as possible.

“I’ve been close enough to taste immortality before. Now I have the last piece of the puzzle.” Chen flung Snow into the air, then shifted shape in brilliant blaze of blue.

He was in his dragon form again. His broken horn had healed, and had healed so well that it might never have been injured. He watched her look, then bared his dragon teeth to make a hungry smile. He swept her aside with his tail, then bent and picked up Thorolf, cradling him with the care one would show to an infant. “I doubt we’ll meet again,” he said and inclined his head to Chandra with a formality that grated on her nerves.

As if she didn’t count.

As if she couldn’t touch him. Chandra desperately wanted to prove him wrong.

Snow screamed, then circled back toward them with talons extended. It was time for Chandra to go to Asgard before the portal closed.

But Chandra wasn’t returning to Asgard. Not this time.

She was going with Thorolf.

She ducked the bird and evaded its grasp. Snow cried and circled around again, swooping low with a gleam in her eye that meant she wouldn’t miss this time. Apollo must have instructed the bird to ensure that Chandra wasn’t left behind.

When Chen shimmered blue, Chandra guessed that he was going to disappear and spontaneously manifest elsewhere.

He wasn’t taking Thorolf without taking her. She leapt toward Chen and locked her arms and legs around Thorolf. Chen screamed but he’d already started to shift through space and time. He wasn’t going to forsake his prize, not anymore than Chandra was going to be abandoned. He cuffed her and she kicked him. She held fast to Thorolf though, hoping it wasn’t her imagination that she felt his heart skip a beat.

She felt Snow’s claws slide through her hair, then the whirlwind caught her up in its dark circuit again. Chandra hung on tightly, certain that if this was the last time she endured this journey, it would be plenty.

She felt suddenly free.

She’d been a hostage in Asgard for so long. She’d been dutiful for so long. She’d done what she was told and pursued what she should. She’d been a mission machine, but now, she was choosing with her heart.

And she was glad.

That was when Chandra realized the full import of her situation. She’d declined Snow’s collection of her, which might mean she could never return to Asgard. She might never see those of her kind again. She was surprised by how little it mattered to her. In fact, she felt relieved.

Maybe it was time for a new adventure.

One as the mate of a dragon shape shifter.

Provided she could help him to survive.

One thing was for sure: she was off the map, and there were definitely dragons here.

* * *

Spontaneous manifestation wasn’t gentle, that was for sure.

They landed hard in a dark cavern, slammed into a stone floor so hard that Chandra knew she’d be bruised from head to toe. The impact didn’t awaken Thorolf, which couldn’t be a good thing. The flames in the wall torches simultaneously leapt high on all sides, as if welcoming their hero.

Chen. It had to be his lair.

Chen was still in dragon form, his scales shining in the firelight. He snatched Chandra up, then flung her into a cage at the farthest point of the cavern. The firestorm’s spark died, and she knew she didn’t imagine that he smiled.

“I’ll let you watch,” he said to her, his eyes shining in anticipation. “Either my magic will triumph and he’ll turn
Slayer
, or he’ll die.”

Chandra bit her tongue, as much as she wanted to antagonize the old
Slayer
. She managed to look fearful, hoping to feed his confidence that he was winning. She could see the broken arrow lodged between his scales, though. He’d pulled out the shaft and broken it off at some point after their fight, but his scales looked disrupted there. Chandra believed there was even a shard of the arrow head left in his skin.

If there was, she could work with it. Chen wasn’t the only one with ancient magic on his side.

He settled back on his haunches, his gaze flicking between her and Thorolf with satisfaction. His golden eyes shone like gems in the night as he breathed slowly, and Chandra knew that he was completely surrounding Thorolf with a dragonsmoke barrier. She crouched in her cage and took stock of the situation.

They were in a cave, clearly, and one that she sensed was far beneath the earth. She had no idea whether it was in Myth or in the realm of mortals, but it didn’t matter. It was filled with old magic, dark magic, magic evil enough to make everything inside her clench. It was snatching magic, selfish magic, magic that changed the world and didn’t care about the consequences. She preferred more earthy magic, magic that accepted the rhythms of life but encouraged them in chosen directions.

Chen was mortal. He might have longevity, thanks to his nature and to the Elixir, but ultimately, he had to die. It was the rhythm of life.

She would encourage that death to happen sooner.

Chandra didn’t like that Thorolf was in the middle of a spiral burned onto the stone floor. It gave her a bad feeling.

That might have been because there was another spiral burned into the floor of the cavern. There was a dragon in the center of it, but he was certainly dead. He looked to be a shell of his former self, a faded husk sucked dry. She wondered who he’d been, and why he’d been sacrificed.

Thorolf still looked dead, and she suspected he was supposed to share the first dragon’s fate.

Even given their dire situation, even knowing that she could have left and returned to the other gods, she knew she was in exactly the right place.

The firestorm was right, and she was going to prove it to Thorolf.

She spared a glance to his still figure and hoped she had the chance.

She sat down, with her palms together and the soles of her boots pressed together. She breathed slowly and evenly, conjuring the magic she knew best. She envisioned the rune
Berkana
, carved into the arrow head she’d left in Thorolf’s mouth. She envisioned the rune
Eihwaz
, carved into the arrow head she’d jammed beneath Chen’s scales. She breathed power into both of them, slowly and deeply, calling to the runes to answer her.

Chandra smiled when Chen winced and his breathing faltered.

There was a strange flicker of light on the far side of the lair, a blue-green light that licked a large oval stone from the underside. Chandra hadn’t noticed the stone before, but the light drew her attention to it.

It was shaped like a large egg, but the texture of the stone made it look like it had a wrinkled shell. The light flicked once, quickly, then faded.

Chen surveyed the lair, his suspicion clear. Had he sensed the light? Had he seen it? Was it important somehow? Chandra had to think it was a sign of some kind. It’s blue-green color was unusual, and she wondered about darkfire.

She had to concentrate on the magic she knew, though. Chandra called to the rune hidden in Thorolf’s mouth once more, putting all her will into the summons.

Thorolf shifted back to dragon form, making the old
Slayer
turn to stare at him.

The blue-green light licked the surface of that egg-shaped stone again, illuminating it like a flash of lightning. For a second, it seemed to be lit from within and Chandra thought she saw a dragon trapped inside the stone.

Then it looked like a rock again.

Chen’s head swiveled toward the egg, his concern clear. It had to be darkfire, then, the force of unpredictability. Chandra chose to be encouraged by its presence.

She called to the rune beneath Chen’s scales. Chen winced again, then shuddered. He scrabbled with one claw as if to scratch his underside, but Chandra willed the arrow head to move deeper into his body. There was no mistaking his grimace then, but she hid her pleasure.

Chen looked around the lair once more, then put down his chin. His eyes glowed through the slits of his half-closed lids as he began to breathe slowly and regularly.

He was probably breathing dragonsmoke.

He was probably buttressing a spell.

He wasn’t the only one. Chandra hadn’t lost all of her powers yet, and she’d willingly use them up to see her favorite
Pyr
free of this place.

* * *

Thorolf dreamed.

He was crashed on his back, hurting from head to toe, struggling to catch his breath. His skin burned painfully but he could feel the heat of the firestorm. He was glad and not just because its caress drove back the pain. Its silvery radiance, visible even through his eyelids, meant he wasn’t alone.

And that they were back in Myth.

“One of these times, you will kill me,” he muttered, complaining but not really. He was getting used to having Chandra around.

She leaned over him, her hair falling on his chest. He opened his eyes again to find her smiling down at him. “Don’t tempt me.”

Her hair was chestnut this time, wavy and falling just past her shoulders. She was wearing a crimson dress that laced across the bodice and a white blouse beneath it, but similar tall boots. He could feel them through the cloth, and guessed that she was always ready to fight. The idea that she’d never really be a damsel in distress made him smile.

He eyed her, then asked what he wanted most to know. “Why
did
you choose me?”

She sighed and laid down beside him on her back, frowning at the star-studded sky. Thorolf impulsively reached over and took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. The firestorm’s heat pulsed through him, drawing them into that beguiling union when their breathing and heartbeats matched. Thorolf closed his eyes, intoxicated with the sensation.

There was something so good about being with her, something so right. Thorolf had to make this work.

He had to undertake her mission.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Chandra admitted and Thorolf chuckled at the humor in her voice.

“Why?” When she looked at him, he held her gaze. “Seriously.”

She sat up again, bracing herself on her elbow and leaning over him. Thorolf didn’t let go of her hand. He wanted to be connected to her like this forever. “In every culture, there are myths,” she said. “And every culture creates myths that echo the reality that surrounds them.”