After listening for any other guards who might be approaching, I shifted back to my human shape and dressed quickly, shivering a little in the cool night air. Then I focused carefully until my partial shift covered my body in scales all the way up to my neck. Hopefully, it would be easier to sneak around the castle in my human form, but I didn’t intend to be caught off guard by one of those darts ever again.

  Once the extra weapons were stowed away in my bag, and the disc slipped into my pocket, I went looking for a way in. My memory of the map for this section wasn’t great, but I finally found a stair in the guard tower at the end of the wall. I then spent the next hour alternately trying not to pass out from anxiety and learning to appreciate the power my Voice gave me.

  Every time I met a guard or other member of the household, I whispered a silent command for them to turn around or look away. It seemed to confuse them, but they always obeyed, at least long enough for me to slip silently past.

  With each encounter, I finally began to understand the horror of the other dragons when they’d realized what I was capable of. And it gave me a bit more insight into the history of my own people, and what they’d done to bronze dragons like me.

  They’d destroyed them because they were afraid. Just as they were now afraid of me.

  And I suspected once they knew the true extent of my abilities, they would be even more frightened. Because of what Jaida had done to me—using that bracelet to suppress my shift—my natural magic had been driven inward, with unpredictable results. The partial shift was one of those results, and I believed my ability to use my Voice on non-dragons was another. So far, the people who loved me had accepted me, either because or in spite of my oddities. But what about those who didn’t know me? Would I always inspire fear, no matter how hard I tried to prove myself?

  My self-doubts mounted as I made my way through the castle, following the pull of my bond with Draven. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find him. He was always just a little bit further away. Always somewhere just out of reach. I could hear the low rumble of thunder from outside, but couldn’t be sure whether it was him or a normal spring thunderstorm.

  It was almost time for the attack. There was no sign of Wynter, and Draven was still a prisoner.

  As much as I hated it, we were going to have to go with plan B. Tackle Elayara first, then rescue Draven.

  There were still so many unknowns. I could tell Draven was awake, but I wasn’t sure whether he could feel that I was near. Had no way to know whether he could hang on to his sanity and his control for as long as our assault would take, or even whether Hugh had managed to do his part.

  But I had to trust him. Had to believe that everyone would be exactly where we’d planned, or this might yet turn out to be the worst rescue operation in history.

  One more stairway. One more hall. One more corner. Then I was out of here.

  I took a step into the next room… and ran straight into a wall of guards armed with dart guns. One of them shot me in the chest.

  “How very unexpected,” said Elayara from somewhere behind me, sounding almost impressed. “You’re a great deal more resourceful than I anticipated, but no matter. We can adapt.”

  I winced. Guess I hadn’t been quite as sneaky as I thought—they’d obviously figured out I’d escaped and been waiting for me. I turned to look at Elayara, and watched as a puzzled expression crept across her face.

  “Shoot her again,” she said.

  From the sound of it, every single one of them fired and hit me in either my back or my arms.

  The queen blanched. “Not all of you!”

  Hah. The more they shot at me, the fewer they had to shoot at anyone else.

  Elayara’s eyes narrowed.

  I smiled and winked. “Go ahead,” I offered. “You’re welcome to keep trying.”

  “There are eight of them and one of you,” she said, sounding a little disgusted. “Even if you’ve managed to neutralize my serum, it’s not like they need it to return you to your cell. Unless you’d prefer a fight?” One elegant eyebrow lifted as she regarded me. “In your other form?”

  Hah. She thought she was taunting me with my inability to shift. Even though I was perfectly able, I had no intention of making things that easy on her. But nor did I want her learning my secret, so I couldn’t let them get their hands on me either.

  I shouldn’t have stopped in the first place. The plan had been to keep moving so I couldn’t be trapped, but now I was stuck between the guards and the queen, while my allies would be waiting for me to give the signal.

  If I never appeared… well, I didn’t want to think about what my friends might do, because it wasn’t likely to end well.

  The storm grew louder outside as I angled my body and frantically sorted through my options, remembering almost too late the disc I’d taken from the guard on the wall. I’d slipped it into the tiny pocket of my leggings, and when I slid my fingers in, it was still there. Not that I actually knew how the discs worked, but I was betting it was something pretty simple. And anyway, what did I have to lose by simply chucking the thing at Elayara’s head?

  I didn’t get a chance to try it. I had only a moment’s warning before the pressure in my head suddenly surged hotter and nearer. An ear-splitting thunderclap sounded almost directly overhead, right before the wall behind the guards just sort of… disintegrated.

  And as the dust settled, all we could see in the gap was eyes like twin stars, blazing out of the darkness with fury and vengeance.

  The guards turned to face the new threat, which stalked forward, looming over them by a foot or more—death incarnate, with sweeping dark wings and scimitar claws, a specter to haunt pretty much every nightmare but mine.

  Draven was awake, and he was very much more than pissed.

  TWENTY

  Exultation pumped through my veins for a mere instant, but it was long enough to draw that silver gaze in my direction. Our eyes met, and thunder crashed again, leaving me in little doubt who was responsible for the storm.

  And like storm fronts rushing together, my love and fear and relief crashed against his. I didn’t need words—I could feel everything he wanted to say to me. Could understand the fear surging beneath the surface—fear for my life, fear that Elayara would attempt to leash him again.

  “For the love of Idria, would someone shoot him?” Elayara snarled.

  To their credit, the guards tried. But every single one of them had spent their darts on me, and none of them seemed to have a reload ready to hand.

  Which was the last mistake some of them would ever make.

  Draven plowed into them with a spine-chilling scream. Elayara echoed his fury back at him, and without a single glance to telegraph her intentions, hurled a bright blue spear of magic at me.

  It glanced harmlessly off the armor beneath my clothes. I saw when understanding dawned in her gray eyes, along with what appeared to be delight.

  “It’s true then,” she breathed. “You really are immune to fae magic. And somehow even in your human skin. This is far better than I dared hope!”

  She turned and started towards me, as if intending to confront me without the backup of her guards, who were being thrown around the room by Draven. Literally—I had to duck when one flew by only a few inches from my head.

  I didn’t want to be a damsel in distress, but I also didn’t want to change shape this close to her, and I had no idea what other kinds of magic she was packing. The gem around her neck was glowing with an eerie yellow light that suggested it was probably something I didn’t want to find out about first hand.

  So I darted towards Draven instead. Not once stopping to wonder whether he was fully in control of himself or his power. Just ran towards him and jumped.

  He caught me in midair as if we’d planned it. As he whirled me away from the action, I took the disc from my pocket and flipped it into the air.

  The moment it hit the ground, everything went dark.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered.

  But he didn’t move. For at least a count of ten, as shouts of pain and confusion rose around us, he just held me tight to his chest, his face pressed into my neck while he simply breathed my scent. His heart hammered against my side, and though I could feel his claws flexing in anxiety, they never even pierced the thin material of my leggings.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured, reaching up to cup his face in the darkness. “I’m okay, and we’re going to get out of here together.”

  “Kill her first,” he rasped at me, and I sensed every bit of his horror and loathing at the things his stepmother had done.

  “Get out first,” I urged him. “Our friends are here. We have help, if we can get out of the castle.”

  He was still in the grip of his half-shift—of the bone-deep compulsion to protect me—and it was tearing him apart to leave while he could still smell his enemy. But he did it. What he did not do was put me down. If anything, he clenched me tighter as he turned around and went back through the hole he’d made in the wall.

  “Can you see?” I whispered, as we left the shouting behind.

  “Enough,” he growled.

  “Then we need to go one level up. To the balcony over the courtyard.”

  “How do you know where the balcony is?” Even in the deep, rasping voice of his half-gryphon form, he managed to sound adorably confused.

  “We, uh… had help.” This wasn’t the time for explanations, and I’d promised Dathair I wouldn’t tell anyone he’d visited The Portal. Not that there weren’t other ways of communicating that to Draven. But the information could wait until we were no longer trying to escape a castle full of enemies who wanted to kill him and skin me.

  As I’d hoped, the light-snuffing spell had a relatively small radius, and we were able to see again within twenty seconds or so. With Dathair’s map firmly in mind, I directed Draven up a set of narrow stone stairs, to a receiving hall with a polished marble floor.

  “I can walk, you know,” I told him as we crossed the hall towards an arched doorway on the other side.

  His strange, slit-pupiled eyes glowered down at me for a moment. Then, “No.”

  “No, what? No, you don’t think I can walk? Because I promise I can. Just let me prove it.” It wasn’t that I didn’t like him carrying me. To be honest, I didn’t want so much as a millimeter of distance between us for the foreseeable future. Just being able to hear him breathe and feel his solid bulk pressed against me… It eased a fear that had been gnawing away at my strength and confidence since yesterday.

  But we needed to turn every bit of our attention to winning the battle that was about to erupt, and I hoped the gentle teasing would help him transition out of the half shift. While it was a powerful weapon, he wasn’t always able to master his compulsions while in the midst of it. I needed him sharp and fully in command of his magic so he wouldn’t damage our allies in addition to our enemies.

  “Kira,” he said hoarsely, “if you hadn’t been close when I woke up… I might have lost myself. And you were still almost too far. I’m not ready to let you go yet.” A fresh roll of thunder punctuated that statement, so I decided not to push him. For his sake, of course. And not just because being in his arms felt like I was finally home and everything was going to be okay.

  After we passed beneath the arch, I pointed towards a dark hallway that led to a wide staircase. We hit the door at the end and pushed through it when it proved to be unlocked.

  Freedom. We stepped out onto a balcony bathed in torchlight and let the wind whip by, as lightning forked through the clouds overhead. It was almost a relief after the stifling angst of creeping through the castle, peeking around every corner, afraid to be discovered.

  Draven finally relented and set me down, then followed as I trotted to the edge of the balcony and looked down into the brightly lit courtyard.

  “Enough!” Elayara stepped out onto the balcony behind us, her voice resonating even over the sounds of the storm. I hadn’t expected her to catch up to us that quickly, but apparently, she wasn’t above running when it suited her.

  “What do you plan to do now, jump, and hope for the best?” She ignored Draven in favor of sneering at me, as a fresh contingent of guards appeared behind her. “You’re surrounded by my guards and my security. It’s only a matter of time before I shoot this traitor again, and you’re on your own.” Her face arranged itself in a superior smirk. “It’s time to admit that you’ve been beaten and accept your fate. If it helps, you can tell yourself that your contribution will be instrumental in bringing about a new age of prosperity for all Idrians, and a new kind of peace between us and our human neighbors.”

  Well, at least she’d confirmed our suspicions about her intentions. I didn’t bother to answer as Draven stepped between us. I could feel his murderous intent—not for his own sake, but for mine—so I tugged at his arm.

  Look, I said, using my Voice to urge him to turn his head. Look at the courtyard.

  He did as I asked, and I could feel his curiosity, followed by… amusement.

  Elayara frowned at me for a moment, then followed Draven’s gaze to the stones of the courtyard below, where three identical dark SUV’s were parked in a tidy little row. “What are those cars doing here?” she snapped at one of the guards who’d emerged onto the balcony behind her. “They’re not ours.”

  “Emergency delegation from the dragon court,” the guard replied stiffly.

  Elayara’s smile died. “Who authorized their entry?” Her voice suggested that the offending party would be unlikely to make that, or any other mistake, ever again.

  “Uh…” the guard floundered. “You did, Your Majesty. You sent word with His Highness’ steward that the gates should be opened.”

  “I never sent word of any kind,” she snapped. “And who are you even talking about?”

  “His Late Highness, Prince Llyr.” The guard was staring straight ahead, standing perfectly still. “The word came from his former steward, who is now attached to Your Majesty’s personal staff.”

  I saw the moment she figured it out.

  “Azakel!” The gem around Elayara’s neck lit with a sudden flare of blue fire, but I was already grinning.

  He’d done it. Hugh had gotten our people inside the gates.

  The queen whirled towards me and threw her hand out, hurling a crackling ball of blue fire at my face, but I wasn’t there to catch it.

  As she’d been talking to her guards, I’d shot one more message to Draven. Warning him what was about to happen.

  The moment Elayara threw her magic, Draven arrowed upwards with a powerful beat of his wings, narrowly avoiding the darts that were fired at him by the semi-circle of guards.

  As he flew straight up, I put my hands on the rail, vaulted over, and dropped feet-first towards the courtyard, thirty feet below.

  I might have survived the fall, even in my human form. Shapeshifters are tough, and we heal quickly, but fortunately, I didn’t need to.

  An enormous black dragon snatched me out of the air just before I hit the stones of the courtyard.

  The doors of the SUVs opened, and my allies stepped out.

  Ryker. Seamus. Marilee. Niko and Oliver. Jaida, looking mutinous.

  Until Ryker glared at her. She got back into the car, and I heard a quiet beep as Ryker locked it. And in a moment that probably indicated my severely strained state of mind, I almost laughed.

  Okay, so Jaida didn’t count. She was only here in case we’d ended up needing to show her to the fae queen to secure Rath’s release. And because we didn’t trust anyone else to watch her. That left eight of us to rescue Morghaine, Faris, and Rath, and maybe even Wynter, if we could figure out where she was hidden. I wasn’t ready to give up on her just yet.

  But still, eight, against Elayara and all her minions.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t think we could win. I just honestly didn’t know what to expect. Wasn’t sure what kind of power Elayara was hiding. But we’d gotten through her outer defenses, and now all she had was her guards and her household staff—maybe forty people.

  It was going to be a fight. And the question I faced now was what kind of fight it would turn out to be.

  Where was the right place to draw the line?

  We could commit ourselves to rescuing our friends and then get out. Disengage once we’d gotten what we came for.

  But where did that leave us? Still dodging her attacks, looking over our shoulders at every moment, wondering which of my friends would be the next to suffer in Elayara’s quest for power. Still facing the threat of her desire for war—for an excuse to rule Idrians and humans alike.

  Could we—should we—take it upon ourselves to stop this if we could? Was it right to commit ourselves to destroying her ambitions, even if it meant destroying her people’s lives at the same time?

  I didn’t know what they were guilty of, but for many, they were likely guilty of nothing more than serving their queen. Had they done terrible things? Possibly, but who was I to decide whether they deserved to die for it?

  And what about my allies? The longer we remained here, the greater the danger they would be in. Did I have the right to risk their lives to take down Elayara?

  And what, in the midst of all of this, did it mean for me to be a Peace-bringer?

  How could I expect to bring unity, when all I seemed to do was provoke violence? How could this confrontation possibly result in peace, not only for myself and my friends, but for all Idrians? Or even for the humans, who, if we were lucky, would never know this battle had taken place.

  For a moment, I wished that Declan were here, with his calming presence and his innate ability to see to the heart of a matter. But in truth, I was glad of his absence—glad to spare him the emotional tumult of battle. I was also selfishly glad he’d been the one to break the news to Lady Tairen of what we were doing. She was going to be so pissed when she found out what I’d gotten her sons into…

  I must have looked panicked, because Callum set me on the ground and leaned down to nudge me with his head. He couldn’t speak to me from his dragon form, but he communicated all the same.

 

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