Feral Magic: An Urban Fantasy Romance-Thriller

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I started the morning brew in the kitchens off the end of the mead hall, waking up even the notoriously early-rising Nest. Wiping sleepers from her eyes, she took the cup I offered her without comment. I was on my second cup, my mind spinning between my new heart flutter and the image of the damp burlap laying at the foot of the castle walls.

  “Nest?” I said, then stopped. Then tried again and failed.

  “A drake does not learn to fly with slow wing beats. It dives off the wall and lets the wind fill its wings. Even if it only glides, it has soared farther than the one too frightened to jump off a table,” Nest said, sipping at her drink steaming in the morning chill.

  “I wasn't asking about flying.”

  “Weren't you?”

  “Why did he kiss—” I started, then stopped, realizing she'd answered that question.

  “How can I—” I stopped again. She'd answered that question, too.

  “Jump off the wall, little one. Then you'll fly.”

  It hardly seemed like good literal advice to give to the wingless variety of creatures, but I considered its value.

  “How do you know?” I finally asked a question her cryptic answer hadn't already answered.

  “I know all my colony does,” Nest said, then raised her head, regarding me proudly. “And so will you, future Lady of the Kragdomen Colony.”

  My heart stopped, and I shook my head. “I don't know.”

  “Over time. Over time, the lady will grow in you and I will train it. You have time, so long as I have time.” Her cup set down on the table with a thump. “You already have your first task as lady. You saw the gremlins that have been here. It is up to the Lord and the Lady to tend to such trifles. Go, go bring him his breakfast now. I will tend to the others.”

  I wasn't positive which curtain was Mordon's and it took a bit of walking around asking questions to early risers to find him. I didn't mind, despite the curious glances, knowing smiles, and the occasional wink. I was too busy thinking of this morning to ponder on their actions.

  While my relationship with Mordon was an option, Nest had taken me as her successor and would not let me loose from my duties with her—at least not for any extended period of time. I considered these turns in my life. How Death hadn't given me an option of getting my magic back or not. How Railey had just been snatched away. How Lilly had assumed I would rejoin her coven. Had I agreed to everything all along?

  I could have refused to meet Death. Railey had. I could have turned away from Lilly. I hadn't. Perhaps part of life was accepting change, making the most of it, and being amiable when it changed yet again.

  I stared out the window at a sky with pink and orange clouds. Every dawn was the same routine, but with minor changes that never repeated themselves. I looked down at the morning brew that had stopped steaming, then ducked into what I hoped was the right curtain.

  Mordon had an easterly facing window in his room. He smiled upon seeing me. He was out of bed wearing pants, holding up a shirt and poking his finger though a ripped hole. The rush from the morning brew now hit me thickly, heat racing across my body.

  “Brought you brew to drink,” I said, putting the cup down on a small chest, the only furniture in the room aside from the bed.

  When I looked at him, I'd expected—or at least hoped—to find his chest to be muscles and big ribs. I hadn't expected to see his front and back cross-hatched with fine white scars from what could only have been a fight he hadn't fared too well in. Encouraged by Nest and possibly the brew, I stepped forward and ran my fingers over the scars. Mordon shivered, offered no explanation for the scars, and brought my chin up into a long kiss. Tracing my shoulder blades, his fingers came up over my shoulder. I playfully batted his hand away.

  “You come here just to tease?” he growled, holding me close.

  “I came to bring you breakfast.”

  “That's what I thought,” he said and kissed me again. When I tried to squirm away, he sunk his teeth lightly into my shoulder. I shrieked in surprise. A smile crooked lopsided over his face as he met my eyes. “You have no idea what that means, do you?”

  I scowled. “Nest.”

  He laughed his rich velvet laugh and let me go, reaching for his drink. “I should have expected, my apologies. It isn't the first time she's done this to someone, though she's never done it to me before.”

  I sat on his bed, too flustered to squeeze by him to slip away, but also I had a desire to not leave. I needed to stop letting my emotions get the better of me. “Isn't there some ceremony you drakes have before…you know…or is it a socially accepted free-for-all?”

  He choked on his drink, coughed, and laughed. Annoyance shot through me. Though I doubted he was laughing at me, staying up all night had cut my tolerance short.

  I pushed past him and thundered my way to the mead hall, intending to…what, give Nest a piece of my mind? Ask her my question instead?

  I ended up sitting in the morning light. Nest brought me out a bloody, seared steak and eggs just as runny. I accepted the apology and ate them, nursing a slightly achy bitten shoulder. Bites? Really? Then again, he did have a dragon form, and biting was something I could very easily envision dragons using as affection.

  Enaid too casually paused by my table. “I heard you brought my son breakfast this morning.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes or scoff, failing in both attempts. “Nest suggested it. Mordon enlightened me on the hidden meaning.”

  “Ah,” Enaid said, casting a look half way between a question and a glare at Nest. “And how well did that go over?”

  “I escaped with only one bite.”

  Enaid snickered and hid her smile behind a fist, then said, “Nest…is Nest, and I'm afraid she never explains to anyone what she does nor why. Are you well?”

  “Fine. Though, a bite?”

  “It means he likes you,” Enaid said, then added brightly, “Oh, yes, I packed you two some meat and supplies in that bag by the door.”

  Enaid left at the first sign of trouble: two men bickering over a chicken that looked like age had maimed it more than the dog cowering behind the other man's legs.

  Mordon entered the main hall, fully dressed and positively preening over my morning visit, too jovially accepting the verbal calls, jabs, whistles, and growls that were directed at him. Not able to pinpoint a specific issue I had with him, I instead ignored him.

  I ignored the crack of the letter as he opened it. I ignored the sag of the bench as he sat beside me. I stuck out my lip and ignored him between curious glances.

  Sitting in the yellow glow of the sunlight through a stained glass window, he bore a calm smile, eyes too intent on reading and rereading the letter before him. The jig was up when his lion eyes darted up from the letter to meet mine.

  I sighed, not able to either maintain my false irritation nor resist my curiousity any longer. “What does it say?”

  Mordon arched an eyebrow, and I wondered if he was going to be a jerk about telling me. In the end his lips curved into the barest hint of a smile, something I might have been imagining.

  “Leif wants us to physically retrieve them. Apparently Barnes removed all portals when the delegation members started to either leave or kidnap other members. The gryphons won't use their magic in front of humans, and the sphinx won't let humans construct portals without going through the proper zoning and permit regulations, and all three of them being representatives of the law, they can't claim ignorance.”

  For some reason, this sort of thing tended to happen to Leif. I pointed to the bag by the door. “Your parents gave us meat and who knows what else. Also, you should have all the children kept indoors today.”

  “Why?”

  I pulled the small chain from under my shirt to show him the invisibility ring. He recognized it.

  “What if someone saw you?” His face darkened, his furrow appeared heavy between his brows. “How are you supposed to stay safe if you look for trouble?” br />
  I leaned back and crossed my arms. “How can I resist when it walks by my door?”

  Mordon reached for me, but checked himself, and settled for folding his hands together. “You aren't on your own anymore. You have me—you have a coven who relies on you.”

  “Didn't stop me before, won't now,” I said, knowing full well he meant that he relied on me. I pushed on before he could correct me. “I think they're planning to resurrect Morgana.”

  “Morgana?” he repeated, looking around.

  “Unless there's a living one running around, but I thought it was on the 'banned' names list.”

  Mordon's circle flared to life around us, burning hotter than necessary to keep eavesdroppers away.

  “If you're going to talk like this,” he said, jabbing his thumb at the flames around us. “Circle. Always.”

  “Noted,” I said. “I think they've been seeking out components for bringing her back. It's the only thing that makes sense—don't give me that look, I helped my parents on a case of demon resurrection and it was just like this, except we didn't know until Father was in the sacrifice circle. I think we can trap these guys, but we have to do it before they take anyone here.”

  Mordon had his hand up to stop me. “They want one of us?”

  “A 'shifter'. So, I was thinking—”

  “Who did you hear this from?”

  “Drakes aren't the only creatures here,” I said airily. At his raised brows, I added, “Gremlins.”

  “And they said all this at your door?”

  “There was following involved. So, as I was saying—”

  “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  Glaring at him, I heaved a breath and said, “No, and even if I had gone to bed, I wouldn't have slept, Sir Smoochalot.”

  “What are you talking ab—”

  “The short version is that not once have I had dating turn out well. Can we get back to planning?”

  “For someone with poor experiences, you're terribly keen on me.”

  “You're…you're…” I dug around for a word, any word that would describe how I lost my senses around him. “I don't know.”

  My cheeks were hot, my stomach roiled, and I felt a sheen of nervous sweat break out on my back. Mordon was looking at me. I couldn't look back. Forget what Nest said about taking a leap, looking over the edge was too mortifying to imagine actually taking the plunge.

  I jerked a little when Mordon cupped my chin in his hand. Reluctantly, I met his gaze.

  “I will never cause you harm. I have made few other promises in my lifetime. I can't be certain of how you feel, but know that you are the one and only I shall love. You are the song in my heart, my comfort, my joy, and I will do anything for your well-being.”

  I don't know why I said what I did next, but it spat out at him like cold water skitters over a hot pan. “And what of your gray dream dragon? Will I be so quickly dismissed?”

  His brow furrowed. I realized with a chilling stab that my words had cut deep. His grip on my chin tightened just a little and each word he spoke fell neatly into the air between us.

  “I scoured the earth and the heavens for her. She's dead or gone, and I do not care which at this point. Were she here, I would not cast a glance her way.” His words did not soften, but grew more intense. “You have my brood ring—that is the ceremony you asked about, the ceremony before consummation… You have my heart, my body, my soul, and I ask you not take that lightly.”

  I was spellbound, my heart still in my throat, his circle around us a wall of fire reaching up to the ceiling, the floor beneath bubbling molten rock, and through it all, he did not notice nor did it put a dent in his energy reserves. Not able to speak, I simply stared at him.

  Someone yelled at him to stop melting the floor, and without even looking at it, he calmed the circle down to snapping embers.

  He looked down to the table and I could breathe again.

  “Tell me your plan.”

  I was dizzy. My plan? My plan? Why didn't we just forget my plan and turn his flames onto whatever building they were using instead? I'd known he was powerful, but perhaps even Barnes did not know the magic of the Drake Lord they had roped into their cozy little circle. Even as I was thinking this, the practical side of me took over control and started talking.

  I told him my plan, and for an instant he seemed remorseful, as though regretting his outburst. The practical side of him came to light, too, and he said, “I will be the bait.”

  “I thought you'd be the anchor.”

  “Leif is a better anchor, Barnes a better tracker, and you need to guard Lilly.”

  “I won't have you go alone.” Though from the way the floor still gave lazy burps and Mordon was unphased, my objection was moot even to myself.

  “I'm the best option.”

  I smelled the boiling rock and sighed. “Fine. Do you still have that knife I enchanted?”