“But when the baby stilled...”
Petra nodded. “I feared that I’d broken the rules. I tried to come here then.”
Damien took her hand, because he didn’t know what else to do. He tried to hide his concern and speak calmly. “But Petra, we’re on the top of a mountain and I know nothing about the birth of children. Should I find someone to help?”
“The Mothers are here,” Petra said through her teeth. He could tell from her expression that another contraction was coming.
“But...”
Petra cast him a smile. “Look, Damien. Look at the forebears of my kind.”
And Damien looked. To his astonishment, he saw faces in the standing stones that surrounded them. Women. Old women. Wise women. Kindly women. As the next contraction ripped through her, Petra gripped his hand hard. Damien saw that the Mothers had moved closer, as if they bent over one of their own. He could see concern in those frozen faces, a concern that hadn’t been there a moment before.
He looked at Petra in amazement.
She laughed a little at him. “You think you have all the marvels?” she teased and he was embarrassed that he had thought as much. “They come out of their stones for a birth,” she said, bracing herself for another contraction. “They ensure that all is well. I can see them and those of my kind can see them.” She spared him a look, then asked a quick question. “Can you see them?”
Damien smiled. “It’s like the stones are melting,” he whispered. “They’re breaking free of the rock.”
“The Mothers are eternal,” Petra winced.
“But what are they? Why are they like this?” He had to wonder if this would be Petra’s fate, and as much as she held the Mothers in esteem, he hoped not.
“They are Earthdaughters who never met a man who was more than a man.”
Damien’s gaze locked with hers. “And what of those who do?”
Petra smiled tightly. “Who would sacrifice a partnership like ours to become a standing stone?” Damien had only a heartbeat to smile at that, then Petra screamed as the next contraction ripped through her body.
Damien saw the stones move even closer, one bending over on either side of Petra. When he narrowed his eyes, he could see the forms of elderly women, their hair grey and their faces lined, their eyes filled with the wisdom of the ages. When he strained his ears, he could hear them murmuring, like pebbles falling into a crevasse.
He knew they were advising Petra, because she nodded and smiled at them, following their instructions. He sat back and simply witnessed the birth of his son, within the circle of the Mothers, so wise and kind and giving.
As Petra finished her contraction, there was a whisper in Damien’s ear.
“Harder,” he said. “Push harder the next time.”
Petra flicked a skeptical glance his way. “I thought you knew nothing about the birth of children.”
He flashed her a confident smile. “The Mothers are teaching me. By the time we have our next son, I’ll be able to help you alone, wherever we are.” He laughed at the shushing of the Mothers, their soft disapproval on all sides. “But I’ll bring you here, even so.” He felt the ripple of their satisfaction, then Petra’s next contraction came.
She pushed and she panted, she screamed when she had to and she held fast to Damien’s hand. The sun had sunk a little lower by the time Damien saw the baby’s head appear and was dipping low when his son’s lusty cry reverberated from the stony peak.
He was a beautiful hale boy, with hair as blond as honey.
Damien smiled at the sight of him, a survivor of the underworld. Both of them had been touched by their time there. Damien had realized the value of what he had left behind, and knew better than to make that mistake again. His son had been given the opportunity to live. Darkfire had given Damien the most precious gift possible, in the second chance of his firestorm.
He washed his son while Petra dozed, and the Mothers slowly returned to their previous positions. He wrapped the baby in Petra’s chiton, beneath the gazes of a circle of roughly hewn grey stones.
Petra opened her eyes then and Damien helped her to clean up. Finally, he tucked their son into her arms, made a fire and wrapped himself around her back for warmth.
“Our next son,” Petra repeated. “What makes you think I’ll let you seduce me again?”
Damien laughed. “What makes you think you’ll be able to resist me?” He kissed her soundly then, loving that she met him touch for touch. His breath was coming quickly when he lifted his head, and he grinned down at her even as she frowned.
“Your hair,” she said, reaching up to touch him.
“What about it?”
“It’s pale now, like flax.”
“Like our son’s, you mean.”
Petra looked startled, then checked their son’s head. She met Damien’s gaze in amazement.
“Good thing you had a fair son, or people would think he wasn’t mine.” He pretended to be horrified by the thought and Petra laughed.
“It’s because you escaped the realm of the dead,” she guessed. “It had to leave some mark on you and him.”
“And what about you?”
“I was dead. I belonged there.”
“Until the darkfire gave us a second chance.” Damien held her closer as she traced the tattoo on his upper arm with one fingertip.
“Where did you get this mark? You didn’t have it before.”
“We all got them. It’s called a tattoo and is made with needles and dye.”
Petra peered more closely at the tattoo. “But it’s what you are. A dragon.”
Damien nodded. “The entire legion got them at once. Our nature was the one constant in our world and it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
“You don’t know where they are,” Petra said softly.
“If the darkfire has taken them to their firestorms, I know they’re happy,” Damien said with resolve. Petra smiled at him as the baby stirred. His lips pursed as he rooted against Petra’s breast, seeking a nipple.
“Impatient, just like his father,” Petra murmured.
“He needs a name,” Damien said. “I don’t think Impatient or Stubborn will work.”
“You had a friend,” Petra said. “That night the firestorm sparked.”
“Orion.”
She watched him with a smile. “A good friend?”
“A very good friend.” Damien smiled. “Last I saw him, he was having a firestorm several hundred miles west of here and several thousand years in the future.”
“You won’t see him again, then.”
“You never know, not when the darkfire’s burning.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “But I like the idea of naming our son after him, either way.”
Petra caught her breath as their son found her nipple and closed his mouth around it. “Hello, Orion,” she whispered. “I suppose all of you Pyr warriors know what you want and aren’t afraid to go after it.”
Damien didn’t laugh at her joke. Between two of the Mothers, the vegetation was moving in a distinctive way.
“Snakes,” Damien hissed.
He jumped up and drew his dagger. Petra turned to look, then smiled.
“They bite,” Damien insisted.
“Not this one.” Petra put her hand on his arm. “Put the weapon away and take the baby.”
“How do you know?”
“Where do snakes live?”
“In the earth.”
Petra gave him a hard look and Damien ceded the point. She must be able to hear or understand them. He didn’t like it, but he sheathed his dagger, then lifted his son from Petra’s arms. He nestled the boy close, then offered her his hand. Petra smiled at him as she accepted his help.
“Partnership,” she murmured, coaxing his smile again.
Then she knelt down to part the grass. Her move revealed a snake of the same blue-green hue as the darkfire. Its tongue flicked, then it turned and disappeared into the vegetation.
S
omething gleamed on the ground where it had been. Petra gasped in surprise when she reached for it, and Damien tried to see over her shoulder. There was a large green scale on the ground, one tipped with gold.
A dragon scale.
“It brought your missing scale!” she said with delight, bending to pick it up.
“My scale?”
“You have one that’s missing,” Petra said, placing a fingertip on one side of his chest. “I noticed when we flew out of the underworld.” She looked up at him. “Can it be repaired?”
“Yes,” Damien said with authority, then he smiled because their path had become clear to him. “And now I know exactly where we have to go.”
“Where?”
“Delphi.”
“For a new prophecy?”
“For a future. The Pyr have always had a strong link with Delphi. I have a feeling it’s gotten stronger.” He tapped the scale, certain that he’d find Alexander or word of him at Delphi. He was sure that Alexander would have created a plan for the future and that he could have a part in it, just for the asking.
Petra studied him, clearly mystified by his mood. “You know something I don’t know.”
“I hope more than one thing,” Damien teased and Petra laughed.
“Tell me!”
“These Pyr I met, each one loses a scale when he falls in love with his mate.” Damien grinned at her, inviting her to make the connection. He could see in her eyes that she understood and was pleased, but she teased him all the same.
“What if the mate doesn’t love her dragon back?”
He pretended to be downcast. “Then I guess she wouldn’t help him repair his armor. He’d be vulnerable when he fought, if he didn’t die first of a broken heart.”
Petra’s lips parted to argue, then Damien began to smile. He heard the distant beat of dragon wings and knew they wouldn’t have to go all the way to Delphi for his scales to be repaired. Petra studied him for a moment, trying to guess what was giving him such pleasure, then turned to scan the evening sky. The stars were just coming out, but Damien pointed out the silhouettes of a phalanx of approaching dragons.
“Alexander!” Damien shouted.
“How can you tell?” Petra demanded, for the dragons were still far away.
Damien tapped the side of his nose. “We recognize each other by scent.” He narrowed his eyes, using his keen senses to inspect the new arrivals. “There’s a woman with him, probably his mate, Katina. Six Pyr I don’t know and two young boys with them.” Damien took a long deep breath, liking that he could show off for her. “Also Pyr, but too young to shift shape.” He cast her a look. “If Alexander has two sons, we’re going to have to catch up.”
“I suppose I should have expected dragons to be competitive,” Petra mused and Damien laughed. Then he shifted shape to greet his fellows, carrying his son to meet his old friend.
* * *
Petra was entranced.
She’d never seen any of the other Pyr before, and the sight of so many of them at once took her breath away. The splendid sight of Damien in dragon form make her heart leap, and the change in the hue of his scales would remind them both always of how close they’d come to sacrificing everything.
The company of dragons landed in the clearing, their eyes flashing and their scales gleaming. Petra heard a rumble like thunder, even though the sky was clear, then there was a familiar glow of pale blue light. She closed her eyes and opened them again to find Damien leading a man with dark hair and dark eyes toward her. He held the hand of a pretty woman who smiled at Petra in understanding.
This must be his mate. Petra smiled in return, feeling that she looked less than her best but guessing the other woman must understand.
“Petra, this is Alexander. He was Drake’s second-in-command, and we served together. His wife, Katina, his son, Lysander, and Drake’s son, Theo.”
Petra spoke to each of them, then was introduced to the others in the company. They admired her fine strong son and made her feel welcome. She noticed Damien and Alexander standing together, as if in conference, just as there was another rumble of thunder. The two Pyr warriors looked serious. Petra glanced at the sky in confusion.
“Old-speak,” Katina said, appearing at her side with a smile. “It’s how they communicate with each other when they don’t want us to overhear.”
“It’s not always that,” Alexander protested. “Sometimes, it’s just habit.”
The women shared a smile, then Katina dropped her voice. “I’ll guess that Alexander is asking for tidings of Drake.”
“He’s still with the darkfire crystal, as far as I know,” Petra murmured and the other woman nodded. “How did you know where to find us?”
Katina smiled. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I’m a naiad. Some call us Waterdaughters. I have very strong intuition and I had a compelling sense that we should come to this place right now.” She glanced around, her gaze assessing. “It seems a powerful place,” she mused, then looked at Petra.
“For a woman to choose to give birth, you mean?”
Katina nodded.
“I don’t mean to alarm you, but I’m an Earthdaughter,” Petra echoed with a smile. “You are standing on sacred ground for my kind.” She gestured to the stones. “These are the Mothers, those of my kind who have gone before and provide sanctuary to us in times of need.”
Katina surveyed the stones, assessment in her eyes. “Does it violate the sanctity for us to be here?”
“Not if it is in aid of me and my son.”
She glanced down at the scale Petra held in her hand and seemed to know immediately what it was. Relief crossed her features, then concern. “We would ask your permission, and that of the Mothers, to repair Damien’s armor here, within the circle of their protection.”
Petra felt a lump in her throat. “I believe they would be honored to witness it.”
“We will leave an offering, of whatever is fitting.”
“The request is enough,” Petra said, because she knew it was true.
“There must be a gift from the mate,” Katina said quietly, her gaze searching. “It ensures that the repair holds and that his armor is complete.”
“A gift?”
“Something of one of the elements associated with you in this partnership would be best. You must decide and you must give it freely.”
“I am earth and Damien is fire,” Petra mused.
“But one of you also represents air and one, water, as well,” Katina said. “Having all four elements in concert gives the firestorm its power.”
Petra had Damien’s scale already. What she most wanted to do was share the protective powers of the Mothers with her dragon. She looked around the clearing, wondering how that could be done. One of the Mothers wavered, just outside her field of vision, and when Petra turned to look, a small stone broke free of the large standing stone. She hurried to pick it up, liking how powerful it felt when her hand closed over it.
She glanced up to find Damien’s gaze upon her, and his smile warmed her to her toes. Of course, he and Alexander had heard every word, with their keen hearing, and she wasn’t surprised to see Alexander summon the others to the fire as soon as she had chosen the stone.
“We will take our dragon forms, each in turn,” he said and the younger Pyr nodded. They were all attractive men and clearly a disciplined company. Each one had a mark on his body, like the dragon mark on Damien’s arm, even though they couldn’t be of his company of Dragon Legion Warriors lost in time. She wondered how these Pyr had obtained their tattoos.
There was no time to ask, though, for the dragon warriors were moving with purpose. Damien stood on Alexander’s left, with Petra and their son beside him. Katina stood on Alexander’s right, with Lysander and then Theo beside her. The others took their places around the fire, forming a circle.
The fire in the middle burned higher when the circle was complete, and Petra realized that these Pyr warriors had their own link to an element. She
remembered the prophecy and smiled.
Fire and stone must pay the price.
That was Damien and herself, and they’d paid it in full.
Now the firestorm’s promise would be theirs.
Alexander shifted shape first, becoming a dark dragon in the same moment that the flames leapt skyward. Damien shifted next, and Petra loved how the fire again stretched for the sky, its light reflecting off his newly golden scales. The other Pyr shifted shape in unison and she saw that they were all darker and smaller than the two fully fledged warriors. She saw glimpses of color in the scales of each, but guessed that their hues had yet to develop.
When all had shifted shape, Alexander extended his claw to her, obviously requesting the fallen scale. Petra surrendered it to him and he held it between the tips of his talons, then pushed it into the flames of the fire. The bonfire burned higher, as if fueled by the scale and Petra couldn’t see it in the brilliant blaze of orange.
“Fire,” Alexander intoned and the Pyr echoed him. He extended his hand to her again, and Petra gave him the stone. Alexander removed the scale from the flames and it was the same bright golden color of the rest of Damien’s scales. He pushed the stone against it and Petra saw that the scale was so hot that it was molten. Alexander drove the stone into it, as if forcing a gem into a setting.
“Earth,” he said and the other Pyr repeated his word.
Alexander pushed the scale back into the fire and the flames licked it hungrily. When he removed it again, both it and the stone from the Mothers had fused into one and were so hot that they were pale yellow and smoking.
He extended the scale and Damien blew on it.
“Air,” Alexander said, along with the other Pyr.
Alexander lifted the scale and pressed it against the bare spot on Damien’s chest. Petra heard the hiss as it seared his flesh and she stepped forward in concern. Damien tipped back his head and roared at the pain.
To Petra’s surprise, Alexander touched her cheek with his claw. “Water,” he murmured, transferring her tear to the hot scale. The water sizzled against it, sending up a stream of vapor as it disappeared. To her relief, the scale darkened immediately and Damien shuddered in relief.