Damien nodded and she loved how he listened to her. “You believed in the firestorm’s promise, right from the beginning.”
“I was waiting for a man like you.” Petra smiled. “The Pyr aren’t the only ones with prophecies, you know.”
“The firestorm is just about creating more Pyr...”
“Then why did you stay three months?”
Damien exhaled. “I didn’t intend to,” he admitted, his eyes lighting. “But you were unlike any woman I’d ever known.”
“And now you know why.” He parted his lips to ask for more but Petra held up a finger in warning. It was time for him to choose. “We need to find our way out of here, but I need to know that you will try again.”
“How?”
“What I want is partnership with you, otherwise my son stays here with me. Decide now.”
* * *
Damien considered Petra and weighed his options. What she was suggesting was much like the relationships the Pyr in the future formed with their mates. He thought of their conviction that the whole was greater than the sum of the parts. He remembered their certainty that a Pyr couldn’t really be complete without his mate by his side.
He thought of how they healed their scales—and why they lost a scale in the first place.
Being with Petra reminded him how powerful their time together had been—and made Damien realize he’d missed her.
Maybe his relentless pursuit of women ever since had been an attempt to regain what he’d lost.
No wonder that was so dissatisfying. There was no one else like Petra.
Could he trust her, without knowing all of her abilities?
When he didn’t answer her immediately, she began to turn away, her disappointment clear. He didn’t blame her, but he didn’t want her to go either.
“Is it too late to ask what you can do?” he asked, halfway expecting her to ignore him.
But Petra never was vengeful, no matter how angry she was. She paused and glanced back at him, a tantalizing smile curving her lips. “It’s never too late to ask,” she whispered. The look in her eyes pierced Damien’s heart like an arrow, and he took a step closer without even realizing what he’d done. “It’s never too late to forgive, and it’s never too late to try again.”
Damien smiled. “That sounds like part of a story.”
Petra smiled and the sight of her pleasure made him realize everything he’d risked and lost.
“Then, show me,” he said, knowing he’d beg if he had to. “Please.”
“You mean it,” she said, with undisguised delight.
Damien nodded and Petra immediately tipped her head back.
She was beautiful, so strong and feminine. It made sense for her to use her powers to defend him, just as he used his to defend her. It was different from his expectations, but was logical when he considered it.
Did they have more in common than he’d imagined? Was that why she captivated him so thoroughly?
It was an enticing possibility. Damien knew that no woman had ever challenged him as much as Petra—and none had ever satisfied him so well either.
As he watched, a rosy glow rolled over Petra’s body, like the sunrise touching the lip of the earth, and his heart skipped. Her body looked firmer and more solid, and her movements became impossibly slow. She breathed only once for each dozen breaths he took and he could almost have believed that she’d turned to stone. Her eyes opened slowly, their brown color replaced by the simmering orange of a volcano’s heat, and the glow around her body brightened. She looked so fearsome and powerful that Damien fought the urge to take a step back.
It was when the snakes began to erupt from beneath her feet that he remembered he’d lost his ability to become a dragon.
He was powerless in a strange realm and he knew it.
But Damien was resolute. There could be no greater test of his trust in Petra, and he was determined not to sacrifice the firestorm’s promise again.
* * *
Petra dared to hope.
She’d known all her life that she wouldn’t find happiness with a mortal man. That was the curse of her kind. But she’d always hoped that she would be one Earthdaughter who found a man with his own powers. When she’d met Damien, she’d imagined that future with him, one filled with love and trust. It had been devastating to learn that he was afraid of her.
She’d made a mistake by reacting in anger.
They had a second chance and he was willing to see the truth.
Even given that, Petra had concerns about showing him the fullness of her powers, lest she frighten him again. There would be no third chance.
Yet the truth offered the only way forward. Damien had to see it all, trust her, and still love her, or she’d never be able to put her hand in his again.
At least he was willing to try.
She had to meet him in the middle. That was the essence of partnership.
Petra closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, turning her thoughts inward. Deep in the core of her mind was a place of stone and rock, a center that couldn’t be moved. It was her anchor and her sanctuary, her source of confidence that the world would be as it always had been.
Because there always would be Earthdaughters, and they would keep custody of Gaia and her legacy. Petra had thought that she and Damien had common ground in this, so to speak, since the Pyr were the guardians of the earth and the custodians of the elements. She’d expected them to understand each other.
Maybe this was their chance to do so.
The key might lie in the prophecy, the one she’d heard only once and didn’t recall. As the power built within her, Petra realized that her dragon warrior would remember every word of the prophecy given to him.
Dragons had long memories, after all.
First things first.
The kernel within Petra grew as she bent her attention upon it. There was a connection established between the relatively quick rhythm of her human body and the unhurried cycle of the earth. She felt her heart slow and her breathing become shallow. Her muscles became more rigid and her movements were imperceptible. She stood outside of time as she knew it, answerable to the wind and the rain, and the years.
And then she hummed.
The hum began deep in her chest, growing gradually in volume until her sternum vibrated in time. She felt the resonance slip through her body and coaxed it to build. She felt the ground beneath her feet start to vibrate as well, felt the fissures in the stone open into gaps, felt the ground crack and shake. She felt the creatures of darkness come to her, the snakes rising in the earth, the moles and voles and bats that took shelter in Gaia’s embrace, the spiders that lurked in the dark chinks between stones.
The power rolled through her, as ancient and powerful as that of Gaia herself, and Petra was glad to have no secrets from Damien any longer. He would see, he would know, and he would still love her. She believed because she had to. It was their shared destiny and she would make it come true. Petra roared, the sound of an earthquake bursting from her mouth, and the earth jumped in sympathy with her triumph.
Suddenly she felt her son go still.
Too still.
The baby was like a rock in her belly again, a leaden weight that felt wrong and horrible. It was just as he had been before she’d taken the ferry. Not again!
Petra gasped, even as her hands fell protectively to her stomach. She couldn’t have to pay this price. She spun in place, turning her back on Damien for fear that he would see her reaction. He was perceptive, thanks to his inner dragon, and she only wanted to hide this fear from him. It was kinder if he never realized his presence in this realm had awakened his son, better if he believed the child lost all along.
But Petra was distraught. She folded herself around her belly, whispering to her unborn son, even as she forced her power to retreat.
The underworld came into focus again, but Petra didn’t know where she was. A deadened plain stretched in every direction.
She had
time to fear, then her son kicked hard. In fact, Petra was winded by his powerful kick. It was as if he wanted her to have no doubt that he was alive.
Alive. Petra felt tears on her cheeks. She glanced over her shoulder at Damien, intending to tell him the truth this time.
But her dragon warrior was gone.
Petra was alone in the underworld, no sign of a living being in any direction.
* * *
Damien was determined to face Petra’s truth.
Even with snakes.
He swallowed when Petra’s eyes burned with brilliant light and refused to think that she could smite a man with a glance. She looked powerful and immovable and he felt the ground vibrate beneath his feet in response to her summons. He knew she could create an earthquake and an avalanche, and he told himself to believe in her. He knew he should trust her, just as she’d trusted him, and he believed her claim that she could control her powers.
Even so, he felt sweat on his brow when the snakes erupted from the ground and slithered around her feet. They were black and glossy vipers, long and thick and sinuous. Damien swallowed as they began to wind over her body, as if they couldn’t get close enough to her. His heart pounded when the fissures opened in the earth, radiating from her body in response to her low cry.
When the darkfire sparked all around Petra, he was concerned but resolute.
He gripped his dagger and waited, ignoring the way the darkfire shone off the scales of the snakes. He refused to think of how numerous they were. He refused to think of his own safety, or the fact that he couldn’t shift shape to defend himself. His fate was in Petra’s hands, and the earth was crumbling on all sides.
Her gaze blazed into his own, daring him to trust her, and Damien did.
Then she gave a cry of horror and stepped back. He reached for her as she spun away, but his fingers only brushed the cloth of her tunic. The ground crumbled on all sides of him, dissolving beneath his feet with terrifying speed.
Damien screamed as he fell.
He fell into an abyss, one filled with darkness, the glint of darkfire, and a thousand hissing snakes. There was nothing to grab but the snakes that fell with him, no way to save himself, and he had no ability to shift shape.
He tried.
Over and over and over again.
Damien landed on a rocky patch of dirt, the impact hard enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He closed his eyes in horror at the sound of snakes landing on the ground all around him. When he looked, some of them were still wriggling, while others had slithered away. It was still twilight, although there were no stars.
There was no sign of Petra.
Damien sat up with caution. Where had the darkfire cast him now?
He was in a deadened forest, silence on every side. The trees were barren of leaves, their branches stretched upward, as if straining toward a sun that never lit this realm. Even though their boughs were empty, it was darker within the ghostly forest and more still. It was colder even than the rest of the underworld and Damien shivered. The bark of the trees was grey, more like stone than wood.
Fear slid down Damien’s spine.
There was fog near the ground, a fog that became denser with every passing moment. It sent a chill through him and he noticed that there was no spark of darkfire in the pale haze.
He didn’t trust its absence.
Damien heard a rustling and spun to defend himself, his dagger at the ready.
There was no one behind him, just a tree.
He might have turned away but he saw a contorted face in the trunk of the tree. A person was trapped inside, silently screaming for a release that would never come.
Damien backed away, not trusting his own eyes. His back collided with another tree, and he spun to find another anguished face just behind his shoulder. He ran from tree to tree, realizing there were people trapped in every one.
Frozen forever.
And Damien was engulfed in a memory he’d have preferred to forget.
* * *
Damien was returning to Petra after a quick trip to Delphi, the teasing of his fellow warriors echoing in his thoughts. What if he was falling in love? Damien couldn’t think of a woman more likely to fascinate him forever than his Petra.
He hurried, shifting shape and flying over the mountains to save time. Even though he didn’t bring the best news, he wanted to be with Petra sooner. His journey had gone as planned and he was striding out of the hills, in human form, by twilight.
Damien was tired and dusty, hungry but ready to see his lady again. Three days away had been too long. He was anticipating an evening before the hearth, savoring Petra’s kisses and her laughter. He didn’t care if there was only dry bread to eat. Her company would be enough. He imagined a long night in bed, of sharing kisses and confessions. He loved how their son was making her figure more full and her features more soft.
They had stopped in a village when Petra became ill with her pregnancy and had lived there several weeks. It was small but not too small—they could be overlooked in its confines, but also recognized. He and Petra kept to themselves, always paid promptly and in full, and were courteous. Although Damien didn’t like to remain in one place for long, he’d reconciled himself to remaining here until his son was born.
But it looked different on this night. To Damien’s astonishment, there was a forest where the village should be. He stopped and stared, doubting the evidence of his eyes. No, the forest had filled the village, for the houses were still there. Damien couldn’t make sense of it. He walked closer, cautious as he tried to determine a reason for the change.
It was quiet, too quiet. He strained his ears but could only hear the crackle of a single fire on a hearth. He knew it was in the courtyard of the house he shared with Petra. There was only stillness, other than the breath of the wind, and the motion he could hear from their home. Petra was there, bustling around as usual, as if in anticipation of his return.
But where had these trees come from? What had happened to the village? There was usually some activity, even until dark.
Damien realized the trees had no branches. They were more like pillars, or trees that had been sawn off at about his height. He had a very bad feeling as he stepped into this strange forest, although he couldn’t have named the reason why.
Then he saw the first face and realized the truth.
They weren’t trees: they were people.
He reached out and touched one, shocked to find the man as cold and hard as stone. It was the farmer who lived beside them. There was his wife next to him, similarly immobilized. Though they couldn’t move, their eyes were filled with accusation. Damien touched another and another, then realized they’d been enchanted and turned to stone.
He thought of the prophecy that had just been given to him and feared for Petra.
He ran to their home, flinging open the door and bursting into the central courtyard.
Petra turned to smile at him in welcome. She was fine, much to his relief, humming as she stirred a pot of stew that was set over the fire. He stood shaking in the doorway but she smiled, as if nothing was wrong at all.
“I thought you would return tonight,” she said easily. “I kept the stew warm for you.” He realized that she was completely different from his mother. There was no demand in her expectation, no need. On another night, he might have been relieved, for his mother had nearly destroyed his father.
On this night, he was cautious.
How could she not know what was outside these walls?
Petra came to him and kissed his cheek, catching his hand in hers and giving it a slight tug. “You must be tired. Come and sit and tell me what you’ve seen.”
“Have you been out?” Damien demanded, for that could be the only explanation for her calm manner.
“Yes. Why?”
He stopped and stared at her. “Didn’t you see?
She glanced at him quickly, something in her eyes made him believe she knew exactly what he meant. “See
what?”
“All of the village is turned to stone!”
Petra wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yes.” She stirred the stew. “Are you hungry?”
“Wait!” Damien seized her arm, compelling her to face him. “How can you be so indifferent? Do you know something about this? Are you responsible for this in some way?”
Petra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What makes you think that?”
“You’re the only one who isn’t enchanted.”
“I’m the only one who’s pregnant,” she said lightly, her gaze locking with his. “But you’re right. I’m also the only one who is an Earthdaughter.” She said this as if it were perfectly routine, but Damien didn’t know what she meant.
He felt a terrible dread. He remembered his father’s warning that being bound to a single woman could only lead to sorrow and a loss of powers. He thought of the prophecy he’d just been given, the one that said much the same thing. Was Drake’s summons to serve offering him an escape just in time?
“What’s an Earthdaughter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. If she’d turned the villagers to stone, there was no reason she couldn’t do the same to him.
Making the prophecy come true. What of the rest of it? Would it all come true? Damien had tried to dismiss the dire prediction, but now he couldn’t.
“You’re not the only one with powers in this household, Damien.” Petra spoke in a practical tone, as if they discussed the weather. She smiled at him slightly. “I wish I could have found another way to tell you, but in the end, there was no choice.” She shrugged and began to ladle out some stew for him. “It was really only a matter of time before you knew and now you do.”
Damien wanted her to say it aloud. “You did this to them?”
“Yes.” She was unrepentant, which angered Damien as little else could have done.
“How could you do such a thing? And why? There is nothing they could have done to you to merit such treatment...”
“Nothing?” she asked, lifting her chin with a familiar defiance.