Chapter 28
The room was silent for a moment. Then Tyr said, “Maybe it was.”
Zane wanted to smack his brother. “For fuck’s sake, Tyr, can you be any less sensitive? That thing annihilated her whole family.”
Tyr gave him the side-eye. “Yeah, that last thing you just said was super-sensitive. Way to go.”
Oh, hell. “Sorry,” Zane murmured to Blaze. His idiot brother Tyr was still talking, though.
“Anyway, yeah, the sorcerer inside the idol is evil, sure. He’s been hanging out with nobody but Vyrkos for centuries. But…” Tyr trailed off. He was shoving stacks of folders around, pulling ancient books and scrolls out from under them, glancing at them, and shoving them aside again.
“But what?” Thorne said impatiently.
“But I don’t think that’s what Finnbar’s guy was talking about.” He looked at Blaze. “What was the second treasure?”
“What?” Blaze stared at him.
“You said the sorcerer came to Finnbar with two priceless treasures. What was the second one?”
“Oh.” Blaze sat back in her seat. “Actually, no one knows. It was one of our favorite things to make up stories about, when I was little. The mysterious second treasure.”
At that moment, the elevator doors opened and a tray full of food floated out, all by itself. It sailed over to the conference table and hovered next to Blaze. She looked up, and when she saw the tray moving of its own accord, she startled and shoved her chair away, feet scrabbling on the ground.
“What the hell? Is that a spell?”
Oops, Zane thought. He should have warned her. “Sorry to freak you out,” he said. “It’s just a zefir.”
“A what?”
He’d lived with zefirs all his life. He’d never had to explain one before. “Um, a type of air elemental, I guess? They’ve served dragons for—well—ever. They cook, and do housework. And stuff.”
“And… they’re invisible?”
Blaze watched, mouth open, as items began seemingly to unload themselves from the tray. A bowl of thick meaty soup, a baguette with a dish of butter, a pot of tea with creamer and sugar bowl, napkins, utensils, and cups. And an entire chocolate cake.
“Not exactly invisible,” Zane said. “They’re incorporeal. No bodies.”
“Then how do they carry things?”
Zane frowned. He’d never thought about it. “Beats the hell out of me. But they keep me supplied with cake, so who am I to complain?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought the cake was for me.”
“But you’re the type of person who shares.”
“You must have forgotten the pepperoni debacle.”
That made him smile. It seemed that just the idea of food was making her feel better. He thanked the zefir and it left with the tray, Blaze watching it until the elevator doors closed.
Zane poured Blaze some tea and added more sugar than she probably wanted. It was good for shock. Then he buttered some baguette for her while she dug into the soup.
Tyr stopped searching through books and papers and watched him, a speculative look on his face.
“What?” Zane asked.
“Nothing,” he said slowly. “Just gathering evidence for my theory.”
“Which is what?” Thorne snapped. “At this rate, Vyrkos is going to erupt out of that mountain and burn down the city before you finish your goddamn sentence.”
“Ah,” Tyr said, pulling out a book. “This is it.” Zane could hear the excitement in his voice, and he knew what was coming.
He recognized the book, and by the look in Thorne’s eyes, he did too.
This was about to get ugly. And loud.
Tyr turned to Thorne. “I think the second treasure was one of the Seals. I think the sorcerer who taught Finnbar was Arkyld, and one of the first Keepers of the Seals was in the Silver Raven coven.”
Thorne threw his hands up. “Where are you even getting that from? You’re fucking obsessed.”
“No I’m not. Well, yes I am, but I’m not wrong.”
He turned back to Blaze. “I’m a student of Draken lore and legends,” he said. “I used to go all over the world, hunting for whatever books and fragments they left behind. So when Thorne begged me to come here and help look for the Seals—” Thorne snorted— “I agreed, under the condition that I could search the Guardians’ archives.”
Blaze nodded.
“And I found this.”
Blaze looked at the book. It showed a drawing of three women, each holding a round object in their hands. One had a dragonfly on it, one had a dolphin, and one had a phoenix rising from the flames.
“Are these the three Seals?” she asked.
Tyr lifted one shoulder. “They’re representations,” he said. “Nobody seems to be sure what the Seals actually look like. It might be that they can take different forms.”
“Which is why finding them is something of a challenge,” Thorne put in. “But if you have anything tucked away in a drawer that looks like that…” He gestured at the book. “Feel free to hand it over.”
“Sorry,” Blaze said. Thorne snorted in disgust, shaking his head.
Tyr said, “There are a number of different versions of this story, but the ones I found here in this house are the oldest and closest to the source material. And they tell the story of how the Seals were removed from Vyrkos’ tomb.”
Thorne opened his mouth, but Zane shook his head at him. He wanted to hear where Tyr was going with this. Thorne pressed his lips together and threw himself back in his chair, growling in frustration. Zane cut a piece of chocolate cake and handed it over to him.
“Cake? Seriously?” Thorne muttered. Zane passed him a fork, and then cut a piece of cake for himself. Thorne stabbed his fork into the cake and began eating.
Cake could improve almost any situation.
Blaze nibbled on a piece of baguette, and Tyr launched into his story.
Long ago in the dawn of this world, there lived a beautiful sorceress named Maia. She and her coven were descended from humans who came from another world, to live side by side with the Draken Guardians in a green river valley in a great wilderness. Together, their purpose was to guard the tomb of Vyrkos, one of the ancient and evil Draken Lords.
Maia was the fairest of the coven, with hair the color of fire-gold, that which Draken hold the most dear. She was powerful, yet good, and beloved by the Draken, especially the Midnight Draken, Arkyld.
But love between Draken and humans was forbidden, and Arkyld never spoke his love. Maia was pursued by another sorcerer, named Corwyn. He was handsome, but arrogant in his power. Unbeknownst to the others in the coven, Corwyn took to visiting the tomb of the Draken Lord, dreaming of the kind of power that Vyrkos once had. The power to shape the earth itself, raising mountains and channeling great rivers.
The power to be lords over humans, animals and shifters, to be worshiped and feared.
And as he sat in the Draken’s tomb, night after night, he began to hear the Draken’s dreams.
Those dreams were dark and full of death, but also full of power and glory and treasure beyond imagining. Treasure that he could take to other worlds, where there were great shining cities, and not the filthy hovels that passed for civilization on most of this primitive, backward world.
So Corwyn kept returning to the tomb. Eventually, as he walked in the Draken Lord’s dreams, Vyrkos became aware of his presence. And one night, Vyrkos spoke to him.
He saw the darkness in Corwyn: the power and the weakness, and he flattered him and coaxed him, promising Corwyn magic, riches, and power beyond measure, if he would only set Vyrkos free.
“But he didn’t,” Blaze said. “Right? Because… still here.”
“He tried,” Tyr said.
Corwyn searched the Drakens’ archives and learned the secret of how the Seals were made—and how they could be destroyed. All he needed was a piece of the Draken Lord’s treasure hoard, the one piece that had not been buried with him. The piece that had been used to connect the original Guardians to him, and cast him into his eternal sleep. So he planned and he schemed, and one night, he stole the one final piece of Vyrkos’ hoard and sneaked off to the tomb to set Vyrkos free.
Maia, the beautiful sorceress, followed her lover to the tomb, and saw what he was about to do. When Corwyn began the spell to destroy the Seals, Maia confronted him. She pleaded with him to consider what he was doing, how many people could be hurt, but Corwyn was too dazzled by Vyrkos’ promises.
Corwyn attacked Maia, and she fought him, magic to magic. But they were evenly matched, and she realized that she couldn’t win—but as long as she never gave up, neither could he.
But Corwyn used the piece of Vyrkos’ hoard to connect with the Draken Lord, funneling his essence through it to try to burst open the magical seals. Unable to stop him with her magic, Maia took a dagger and stabbed her lover through the heart. She killed his body, but his soul still lived, trapped in the piece of gold from the dragon’s hoard.
Corwyn called to Vyrkos, and the Draken Lord began to wake. Seeing the Seals begin to crack, Maia made the ultimate sacrifice. She turned the dagger on herself, but with her dying breath, she funneled her own essence into the Seals, strengthening them with her magic and her life force. The Dragonfly Seal, the Dolphin Seal, and the Phoenix Seal. Corwyn was defeated, and Vyrkos slipped into slumber once more.
The Draken Guardians felt the battle raging, but got there too late to save Maia. The best they could do was remove the piece of gold from Vyrkos’ hoard and place it within a protective circle, so Corwyn’s spirit went to slumber with his master’s.
Arkyld, devastated with grief at Maia’s death, took the seals from the tomb—the only remaining vestiges of her spirit. He cursed the Guardians, for he believed that if he had been allowed to mate with Maia as he wished, he might have been able to save her.
So he left the green river valley with the Seals, and he was never seen again.
The Guardians tried everything they knew to find him, but to no avail. And then one day, after centuries had passed, a young Draken came with a message.
Arkyld had died, but before he did, he had a vision. Corwyn’s spirit would wake, and Vyrkos would rise again. In order to defeat him, the Guardians would have to find three female Draken: the Rogue, the Rebel and the Storm. Each had one of the Seals, but she would only give it to the Draken who could win her heart. The Seals could not be stolen or taken by force, but only given freely by the female to the male.
These females were the Guardians’ Three Mates of Destiny, and would become the treasures of their hearts, dearer to them than caves of gold. And the power of Maia’s love, working through them, would allow the Draken to seal Vyrkos’ tomb, defeating him and Corwyn utterly and forever.
Tyr’s voice faded, and with it the magic of the story. They were just four people, sitting in an underground cave filled with electronics.
And ancient memories.
Everyone was silent for a moment. Then they all turned to look at Blaze.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “You don’t think I’m one of these Three Mates of Destiny, do you?”
“Yes,” said Tyr.
“No,” said Thorne.
She looked at Zane. He said nothing, just looked down at his cake. Dreams, she thought. Years and years of dreams. How many years? she suddenly wondered. He was a dragon, after all. He could be centuries old.
“She can’t be one of them,” Thorne said to Tyr. “The Three are Draken. The story says so.”
Zane snorted. “So now you believe the story?”
Tyr said, “That’s what most versions say. But as I went back, digging through the files, I found what I think is the original version of the story. The word used to mean ‘female’ was translated as ‘female Draken,’ but if you look at the etymology, I believe it was mistranslated. I have the sources—”
“Get to the fucking point,” Thorne ground out.
“The point is that the original doesn’t say anything about the Three being Draken. It uses a generic form of ‘female’ that was most often used to refer to women. Specifically, human women.”
There was another silence. Then Thorne said, “That’s impossible.”
“Why?” Blaze asked.
“Because Draken—full Draken—don’t mate with humans. It’s beneath them. That’s why Arkyld and Maia couldn’t be together in the first place.”
“Beneath them?” Blaze said. “Snotty racist assholes. No wonder they got sent back to the Dragonlands.”
“Trust me,” Tyr said. “Draken are beyond snotty. And if one of them mates with a human and produces offspring… look out. Their children get thrown out on their scaly little tails. Hybrids are a shameful disgrace.”
“Hey,” Zane said. “Watch your mouth, ‘brother’.”
“Wait,” Blaze said, looking around the room. “Aren’t you Draken?”
Zane was the only one who met her gaze this time. He shook his head. “No. We’re Wild Dragons.” At her look of confusion, he elaborated, “‘Shameful’ hybrids. Somewhere in our past is a human ancestor.”
“So we got kicked out of the Real Draken Cool Kids’ Club,” Tyr put in. “Or anyway, our ancestors did.”
Blaze shrugged. “Don’t know why you’d want to be in it, if everything I’ve heard about Draken is true.”
Thorne snarled, “You know nothing about Draken.”
Whoa. Okay. Blaze backed her chair away from Thorne a little bit.
Zane growled at him. Like, actually growled. His eyes went electric blue for a second, with those disturbing catlike pupils.
She stared at him, things clicking together in her mind. His dreams. The way he’d recognized her. They way he knew where all her beauty marks were, where she liked to be kissed, how to bring her to incredible, soaring orgasms like she’d never felt before.
The way she’d felt the gold in the room humming when they made love.
He was watching her now, his eyes intense and burning, and she knew he was thinking about the same things.
What if it were all real? What if she and Zane were somehow magically connected?
She swallowed hard. “So… if I were one of these Three Destined Mate people, how would we know?”
“Weeell…” Tyr drew out the word. “Since we’re the only Guardians left, one of us would woo you with our dragon charms—and our mighty hoards of gold. Then you would fall madly in love with him. And by him I probably mean Zane.”
Blaze glanced at Zane, who had stopped looking at her and was now mashing the cake on his plate with a fork.
Thorne gave Tyr a black look. “And most important, you’d have the Seal,” he added.
“Which I don’t,” she reminded him. That was the flaw in Tyr’s theory. She didn’t actually have the Seal, and she didn’t know where it was.
“I told you this was ridiculous,” Thorne said. “I mean, for one thing, there’s only one of her. There’s supposed to be three.”
“Don’t look at me,” Blaze said, even though he and Tyr were, in fact, looking at her expectantly. “I work alone. I’ve always worked alone, ever since I left the coven with the idol. Solo witch, that’s me.”
“A rogue,” Zane said softly. He raised his head. “You turned against your coven, stole their most precious treasure, and ran away. You practice on your own, without the oversight of a new coven. Technically, you’re a rogue witch.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. You’re the Rogue,” Tyr said.
Blaze felt a chill go down her arms. As if someone had said something so important it had imprinted itself on the fabric of destiny.
Could all this really be true? Had her mission and Zane’s been intertwined from the beginning?
Zane was watching her again. His face was impassive, but she could see his eyes were full of hope he was trying to conceal.
Hope that she had the Seal? Or hope that she was his destined mate?
Dream-memories tumbled through her mind again. The two of them standing on a balcony, her snuggled into the curve of his arm. Lying in a field of wildflowers, and him tucking some in her hair before kissing her gently.
That feeling of warmth spread through her chest once more. Was he putting those thoughts there? He held her gaze, everything he was feeling showing in his eyes. This wasn’t just about the Seal.
It was about the two of them.
“See?” Tyr was saying smugly. “They’re already falling in love.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Thorne said. “It’s not destiny. She doesn’t have the Seal. She doesn’t even have any friends. If she’s the Rogue, where’s the Rebel? And the Storm?”
Blaze tore her eyes away from Zane. “The Rogue, the Rebel and the Storm,” she whispered. “Oh my god.” She stared down at the tabletop, her mind racing. It couldn’t be true, but…
“Hey,” Tyr said, snapping his fingers. “You okay?”
“No.” Blaze turned to Zane. “Remember the other thief? The one that was at my house the first time you came?” She looked at Thorne. “The one you caught when she fell off the balcony tonight?”
Thorne looked away. “She’s definitely not one of the Three.”
Asshole dragon. “Really?” Blaze said sweetly. “She didn’t have dragon powers, so my tracking dust stuck to her. I hunted her down and spoke to her. Want to know what name she goes by?”
“No.”
“Rebel. Rebel Smith.”
Thorne froze. Then he shook his head. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “It can’t be that literal.”
“You sure?” Blaze asked. “Because when I tracked her down, she was at her sister’s shop in St. Johns. A wannabe witch’s shop with crystals and tarot cards, and a whole crap-ton of…” She paused for emphasis.
“Dragons,” Tyr finished, before she got the chance. His face had gone pale. “It’s full of dragons.”
Thorne turned on him. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Because I’ve been to that store,” he said. “I’ve met her. She loves dragons. And her name is Tempest.”
His eyes grew unfocused, his voice soft. “Tempest. A wild storm.”