"It is the Mirror of Skyland," Hammon says from the doorway. I turn to see him standing there, wringing his hands, and looking at me expectantly. "It is said to hold the power of the Skyland family within its depths, but most believe it is just a legend."
I step up on to the raised floor where the thrones and crystal sit, and I walk around the massive Mirror of Skyland, wondering what it's for.
"It's beautiful," I say. Conyac waits below me, watching me with his glowing blue eyes, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Trav bursts into the room and growls as he passes Conyac.
"Gizmel can find nothing. We go. Now."
I sigh and sit in one of the thrones. I'm not ready to give up. Part of me feels at home here. The heights scare the heck out of me, but otherwise, I like it here. I focus on the radiant crystal in front of me. The shadows and lights within the clear gem seem to play tricks on my eyes. I see a man and a woman waving at me from within. I peer into the depths of the Mirror of Skyland, and a subtle hum radiates from the globe. Raising my hand, I place a finger on the smooth surface.
Hammon barks from the end of the room, but suddenly, I'm overcome by some inner need. I put my entire hand on the ball and then the other. Electricity radiates through me, and I cry out. "What is happening to her?" I hear Trav yell.
Conyac catches me as I fall to my knees. "Wait, don't move her," Gizmel's voice echoes through my brain as images and memories shift and move inside my awareness. I can feel something happening to me. It is as if I am being cracked open and the insides are being pulled out. I scream, but I'm not in pain. I can vaguely make out the voices of the princes yelling at each other while Gizmel begs them to wait.
"She has tapped into the power of Skyland. She is the princess," Hammon's voice cracks through the room. I moan as my body seems to break apart and be put back together again. Time stands still, and I'm lost in a white light. Suddenly, I'm back in the room, kneeling on the floor with all four men looking at me frantically.
I let go of the globe and hands are all around me, helping me to my feet. I'm set in the throne, the throne of my mother, and everyone is talking at once.
"What happened?" I ask. I don't recognize my voice. It's deeper, richer. I feel strange, as if I don't fit into my own skin.
"Princess!" Hammon gushes, bowing deeply before me. "I am your loyal servant."
"I'm the princess," I say, somewhere between certainty and questioning.
"Look at her face, her eyes. She is dragon born," Trav says, his voice somewhat shocked.
"Did you doubt it?" Conyac challenges.
"Of course not," Trav says defensively.
"Now that we are sure she is the princess, I assume that means we will be staying with her at Skyland," Gizmel says.
Chapter 11
I rise from the throne, straightening to my full height. I've grown about a foot in stature and now stand only a head shorter than Trav and Conyac. I look down at my hands. My fingers are long and slender; my skin is sleek and flawless.
"How?" I say, looking at Gizmel. My voice is smooth and deep, my sight sharper. I can feel something coil inside me, in the depths of my brain and belly. It slithers behind the shadows of what I know as me.
"The Mirror lifted the enchantment. It must have been the components of the crystalline structure..." Gizmel goes on with his theory of how the crystal lifted the spell, but I am too distracted to hear him. My senses have become ultra keen, and I am overwhelmed by the bombardment of information that is pounding through my eyes, ears, and skin. I need to be alone, in the dark and quiet. Even my clothing feels constrictive.
"Hammon," I state authoritatively. "Take me to the royal chambers. I need to rest."
"Yes, lady," Hammon says, scurrying up to me. He reaches out his hand for me to take as he helps me down from the raised floor where I stand. I follow him into the entry hall.
Conyac and Trav are at my heels, but I turn to them and stare them down before following Hammon up the stairs. We climb to a hallway, and Hammon hurries to open a set of double doors. I stride through the double doors into a massive chamber. There is a huge bed waiting for me there; everything is clean and fresh within.
"Send Uria to me. I need to get out of these clothes," I tell him. Somehow, my confidence level has just shot through the roof. I've never felt so powerful in my life. However, behind the confidence, I feel a sense of melancholy and loss.
I sit on the bed, the mattress soft and yielding like the highest quality memory foam. Uria comes through the door a few moments later and curtsies. It doesn't bother me as much now. It feels appropriate. I've never been a person who believed in pecking orders or hierarchies but somehow I feel it is just and right that these people should serve me. Strange.
"Help me undress, Uria. I need to get out of these tight clothes."
"Yes, your highness," she says as she hurries to help me get out of the constraining garments. A few moments later, I'm in my loose-fitting underthings. Uria helps me into bed and draws the curtains for me before leaving me in silence. I am so relieved to be left alone that tears begin to well up from deep within. They flow from my eyes, which I know have changed. I can't bring myself to look in the mirror for fear of what I will see.
I run my tongue over my teeth and sure enough, I feel the sharp points of my canines. They have elongated half an inch. Oh my god, I’m a vampire.
Shudders of despair rack my body as I weep for my losses––my past, my humanity, my parents, the birth parents and my adoptive ones. My entire sense of self is fragmenting, and I don't know if my already broken psyche can take it. I think back to the war and the atrocities I've seen.
Not only does it make me feel more broken than ever, I have the new sense that I was somehow a coward. I weep anew, my entire body shaking with despair. I don't know if I can get myself out of this. There is nothing for me to hold onto emotionally. Everyone is a stranger, and my entire reality feels like a bad drug trip.
I don't want this. I don't want to be dragon born. I don't want to be the princess of Endor. I don't want to marry one of these strange, dominating men. I want to go home with my dog and take pictures of wild flowers for the rest of my life.
I can't do this. I decide I'll tell them I'm resigning. I never expected there to be any proof I was the princess. I expected it to be a mistake. I was going to find a way back to Earth and live out my life as if this whole thing was a bad dream or a broken memory to be filed alongside everything that happened to me in Iraq.
My doors swing open, and I sit up in bed. In the darkness, I see the outline of two massive men. No. Unacceptable.
"How dare you enter my rooms without my permission?" I bellow, my voice still quivering.
"Lady," I hear Trav say. I can see him clearly even in the darkness. "We heard you weeping. What can we do to help?"
"Let us help you, princess," Conyac says.
"The first thing you can do is respect my privacy. Now get out!"
They sigh and groan, but they reluctantly leave. I flop back down on my pillow, anger burning in my breast. Part of me wants to fly at them and bite their heads off, literally. Ouch. That's a new one. Where did that come from? The slithering, coiling energy inside me roars, and I know at once what it is.
My dragon.
My tears dry up instantly as I focus on the beast inside me. The more I focus on her, the stronger she grows. Immense power burns in my belly and brain, clawing and growling for a release. She wants to burn, to fly, to devour. She wants to rule. Goosebumps spring up on my arms and chest. My nipples tighten as I focus on the monstrous energy within.
Was this here all along? Was it there when I was a farm kid in Idaho? Was it there when I was lost it in the chaos of war? Was it there when I retreated from society with my dog? I can't even imagine that I could possibly have had this inside me all this time.
It doesn't seem possible that it is part of me. Even now, in Endor. I was kidnapped and held prisoner, or so I thought, and I've been at the mercy of these me
n since I arrived. Now, I'm suddenly their equal. It doesn't register as real to me. I can't get my head around it.
The dragon roars inside me at my stupidity. She shows me her teeth and claws and blows a gust of wind from her lungs that creates a kind of sonic boom inside my chest. I'm taken aback, my eyes wide, my tears dry. I stand from the bed and go to the nearest mirror to inspect myself.
There I stand, at least six feet tall, eyes glowing silver, teeth sharp, ears pointed. My features are similar but more refined, perfect, sharper. I'm beautiful. My body is longer, tighter, but I still have generous curves, even more generous in some ways, but my stomach feels tight with muscle; my arms are taut and strong. Holy shit! I'm a goddess!
I back away from the mirror, listening to the dragon inside me hissing at me to toughen up and get myself together. She hates weakness in herself. In me. She won't tolerate it. It brings shame to our family name. I am Princess Dolomane of Skyland. I am the hope of my people.
Empowering thoughts fill my brain with the fierceness of a preying eagle. I clutch my chest as I stand, slack jawed in the center of the room, listening to the dragon within. She wants out. She insists I change now. Now. And fly over her homeland.
But I have no idea how to change. I don't want to. It sounds like it would hurt, and it terrifies me. My inner dragon hisses that I'm a massive pussy. She bites at me from within my own brain, and I feel like I'm losing my already splintered mind.
I climb under the blankets and cover my head, trying to get away from the snapping, hissing, clawing beast, but I can't. It's inside me. It won't go away.
Chapter 12
I wake as the morning light streams through the window. I feel hung over from crying and fighting with my inner monster. As I stand, my head buzzes with dizziness. I put my hand to my temple and groan. I need some of that morning tea stuff Uria brought me yesterday.
Since I'm still in my underwear, and the clothing I wore yesterday is too tight for my new body, I look for something else to wear. I manage to find a bathroom and a huge closet full of clothes.
After a quick bath, I go to the closet and find dresses and tunics much like those in my closet in Trav's castle. I pick a casual, more athletic tunic and shorter skirt with tights underneath and put my hair and face together how Uria showed me the morning before.
I don’t feel like being touched right now, so I do it all myself. When I'm finished putting myself together, I stride into the hallway. I have no idea how to get to the kitchen for my morning tea, but I find Uria sitting outside my door as if she's been sleeping there all night.
"Uria, what are you doing here?" I ask her.
"Waiting for your command, your majesty," she says.
"Didn't Hammon give you a room?" I ask, incredulous.
"No, my lady, he told me to wait here."
"I'll make sure you get your own rooms. Now, could you show me to the dining room? I'm starved and need a cup of morning tea," I tell her.
"I can bring your morning meal to you, my lady. It's no trouble."
"No. I want to get out of this room. I need to speak with the princes and the wizard as well. Show me."
Uria leads me downstairs and into a comfortable dining room where the princes are already enjoying their morning meal. The table is set for a feast, and the men stand as I enter the room. I nod at them and tell Uria to go get some rest as I sit. Both of the men try to help me, but I shoo them away.
"Where is the morning tea?" I say looking around the table. Conyac is already pouring me a cup and hands it to me. Trav frowns, and I take a sip of my tea with a sigh. I put some fruit and bread on my plate and eat slowly as I drink the bittersweet, warm liquid. I need to think about what I'm going to say to these men. No matter how much I want to get out of this whole princess thing, I don't think I can. I have to make the best of it and that means getting a handle on them.
After my head has cleared, and I have food in my belly, I look up at the princes and meet their intense gazes staring straight at me.
"Now. We need to come to some kind of arrangement. I understand it is my responsibility to choose one of you as my husband. Since I know nothing about either of you, my role as a princess, or anything about Endor, I will need some education on the subjects. As far as this choosing goes, I will have complete control over who I spend time with and what we do. Is that clear?" I ask them, looking them both in the eye.
Trav narrows his eyes at me, and Conyac smiles as if he's already won the prize. If I had my way, I wouldn't be involved with either of them. They could have told me why they were pulling me through the portal. I might not have believed a word they said, but still. It's the principle. They kidnapped me. And I can't just forgive that, even though I realize now that I do have to marry one of them.
My inner dragon is rumbling inside me. She isn't fond of my reluctance to take on my responsibilities. But she isn't in control. I am. I will have a say in whom I spend time with and whom I marry.
"I agree," Conyac says.
"So do I," Trav says right after.
"Good, then we have an understanding.”
"I will spend a few hours a day with each of you. You can tell me your history and educate me about Endor and my family. I need to understand who I am and what the power of the dragon queen is. I want to make an informed decision," I give Trav a meaningful look.
"But my three days aren't up," Trav protests.
"As I said. I will decide who I spend time with. You already agreed."
He sits back in his chair and grimaces. He doesn't have the most winning personality, and he knows it.
"I will spend the rest of the morning with Conyac, since I haven't gotten to know him at all yet."
"Fantastic," the black-haired prince says.
"Fine," Trav acquiesces.
After I'm finished eating, I stand and invite Conyac to walk with me outside. As we exit the grand entrance doorway, I say, "Show me my land, Conyac."
"Of course, my lady," he says offering me his arm.
We walk out into the sunlight. I hold his heavily muscled arm in my long fingered hand. He smells like a dream, and my inner dragon reverberates throughout my body, awakening my desire.
Conyac leads me down the front stairs of the castle and through the grounds. I see the grazing animals on the hillside, beyond which can see the handle of our flight carriage. I hold his arm as he guides me around the palace on a path of finely cut stone.
Lawns and gardens that have seen better days stretch out around us as we walk under the shade of a cascading tree. We sit on a carved stone bench a hundred yards from the stone wall that overlooks the sheer drop of the cliff face. Just thinking of it makes me shudder.
Conyac takes my hand in his and gently kisses my knuckles. I feel my face heat as he looks up into my eyes from behind his thick, long black eyelashes. His lips pucker as he holds my hand on his thigh, caressing my fingers with his thumb. A tingle goes through me, and I'm caught off guard.
The events of the last twenty-four hours have changed everything for me. I'm no longer a kidnapped captive being fought over by two alien beings. I'm a princess of this world, and it is my duty to choose one of these men. That makes all the difference in how I allow myself to feel.
I smile back at him as he reaches up to brush a lock of flowing hair away from my face. "Your human form was lovely, but now you are stunning, my princess," he says in his silky smooth voice.
"Thanks, I guess," I say, looking into my lap.
He puts his finger under my chin and tilts my face up so that I am looking him in the shining blue eyes. "I would have loved you either way," he assures me. I nod. He lets go of my chin.
"Tell me about yourself, Conyac," I say, changing the subject.
He grins and leans back, putting his arm on the back of the bench and behind me. "I am the son of Lord Car Blackwell, son of Darrek, son of Ur. My people have been royalty for hundreds of generations going back to before the last Org invasion. The upstart Warrens stole the thron
e in the last two generations. They are thieves and liars."
"Let's keep politics out of it, okay?" I say. Trav isn't here to defend himself, and even if he were, I wouldn't want to hear about it. I'm making this decision based solely on my own feelings for each man and nothing else. "Tell me about your childhood. Your life. What do you do for fun?"
"I grew up in Castle Blackwell. I had a sword in my hand before my first shift at age five. My father trained me to be a great warrior. The Blackwell skill is a mighty, deep frost that can freeze all living things with one blast. In the form of a man, I am a match for fifty common men. I rule my kingdom with compassion and justice. My people thrive and respect me for it," he says, looking proud of himself.
His black hair and blue eyes contrast against the white fur of his cloak that hangs over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. He wears a tight, short sleeve leather tunic underneath with strips of leather that bind around him like some kind of S&M costume. It's hot as hell, with silver studs that accentuate the dangerous look.
I bit my lip. A crisp alpine scent is pouring off of him. I could let myself fall into his arms right here and now. My inner dragon is hissing and scraping inside my brain. She's whining to mate.
I put my hands to my temples and try to drawn out the horrific sounds she's making in my head. Squeezing my eyes shut just makes the racket worse.
"What's wrong?" Conyac asks, his voice tender.
"The dragon. She woke up when I transformed. I can't make her go away."
He laughs, the sound warm and inviting. "She wants to come out. Perhaps you should let her," he raises and eyebrow. "Come." He stands and takes my hand, leading me to an open space in the overgrown lawn. "Change now. Your clothing will be spared. Don't worry about ripping them."
I look down at my clothes and wonder how that works. Then I look back at Conyac who is gazing at me expectantly. How in the hell am I supposed to shift into a dragon? I close my eyes and focus on the beast within. Do I even want to let this thing out from inside of me? It doesn't seem like a good idea. What if I never get myself back? Changing into a weird alien elf was bad enough.