Chapter Nine
Although they were named husband and wife, although they consummated, leaving no room for doubt, Bethany still found it hard to look at Ronan and connect him with the word husband.
Even after about a month since their return. It became easier to have him in her life, of course. To imagine doing everything with him. To wake up with him by her side, and to know the first thing she saw was either his sleeping face or his smile.
Also, being with him induced a kind of drunken happiness. One she suspected would wear out... eventually. But the period of new love definitely felt nice. All those little butterflies in the stomach. Exchanging glances. Wanting to be in each other's company.
They usually spent time in Bethany's assigned quarters, since Ronan didn't get a whole lot of privacy back in the little cottage, and he didn't want to have a place with the other werewolves in the palace. He wanted to be separate from them.
Kiara didn't have so much trouble with her husband. Mordred. Tall and imposing and perhaps a little arrogant in his manner. Nothing like Ronan, of course. Kiara spent a lot of time in the company of her red-headed servant, Winifred something.
Turned out Winifred was actively trying to teach Kiara—and she must have been about level eight with her lightweaving. That lowly little servant did things with light that Bethany could only dream of. She conjured up multiple living lights, refracted colors, and obviously had mastered heat transference. Someone like her shouldn't be a servant, but Bethany decided not to enquire too closely into the matter.
The one thing Bethany knew that set them apart was the fact she knew what it felt like to take the light from everyone else. And to know she condemned others to certain death in the process.
When she admitted this to Kiara, as predicted, Kiara saw nothing wrong with the light-stealing.
“Are you joking? I think that's a brilliant idea! They wouldn't have seen that coming. Get it?”
Bethany groaned, wanting to strangle her sister in that moment. She wasn't sure she missed that part of Kiara's personality...
The only thing they needed to prepare for, on top of the palace life, was helping to promote the idea of an alliance by making a few diplomatic appearances to the public, with Ronan by her side, visiting shops and the rich and poor alike, since the Kanthians needed to open up to the idea of the alliance. It was in place, of course, but all it took was for a rebel group like what happened in Golubria to ruin everything. So Bethany also went around with disguised guards. Just in case it didn't work out the way they wanted. It was a great shame, really, but obviously alliances didn't work like that.
They needed to be built up with time, maybe forced down some people's throats...
Until eventually, everyone was on board with the concept. Fjordan needed the alliance of this powerful nation. And Kanthus itself could do with the additional resources Fjordan offered with iron, steel, and other metals.
The last obstacle in their way was trying to explain about the underground catacombs and the murals they saw there.
And for that, they needed the Kanthian scholars on board, direct from Bridgeside University.
Bethany now waited anxiously with Ronan in the lower palace grounds, surrounded by books, and by a few highborn students who were able to study in the palace itself.
“They won't believe us,” she said, grasping Ronan's hand, nervous for some reason. It shouldn't be such a big deal, but the idea of the scholars outright rejecting them made Bethany angry in advance. They couldn't reject this. But of course... it wasn't like they carried any evidence with them, either. It frustrated her.
Yelena joined a few minutes later. Maybe with the three of them able to back it up, the scholars might pay more attention.
“Settling in okay, Yelena? They found your family?”
The former bandit shrugged, though a little smile spread over her face as well. “Yes. It's... strange. We don't really know what to make of each other. But they are accepting me as my mother's daughter.”
“It's... good, right?”
“Maybe. She had a mother, father, one sister. The sister is near my age, actually. So I guess it's easier to see the family resemblance.”
Okay was about the best they'd have for Yelena. If a stranger stumbled into your life and claimed to be the offspring of a long since missing daughter, how exactly would you react to that? At least they were accepting Yelena for now. Maybe in time, she'd feel like she had a family.
Just as long as it wasn't a family like Bethany's. Poor girl didn't deserve that.
“We have to speak to a bunch of old people about the paintings?”
“Yes,” Ronan answered Yelena. “We don't have any evidence, so it's just the word of us three. And we don't know how significant the find is. If it even means anything.”
The shadow man, Bethany thought. The one that stole the light from the world.
That image of all the light disappearing into his fingertips, of the sun growing into a dark ball—of the moon being pushed in front, blocking the invisible heat from making it fully through...
What kind of magic existed to be able to do such terrible things? No such magic was around these times. Just ordinary lightweavers. Except.... Kiara had something different. Something like those murals. Light turned solid. Light turned into a weapon.
Maybe there was truth in it after all. Perhaps magic lost to time. Or a magic their nations weren't aware of.
A servant scuttled in. “The professors are here from the university, masters.” He gave a great bow, especially averting eyes from Ronan. “Shall I send them in?”
“Yes,” Ronan said, with a bite of impatience. Since they were waiting specifically for those scholars.
“Let's hope it works out for the best.” Ronan kissed Bethany on the back of her left hand, brushing the knuckles, and Yelena made a pretend gagging sound.
“Yelena, you're eighteen, this shouldn't be so gross for you anymore,” Ronan observed.
“It's not. But when you two go all gooey-eyed and then start groping each other in public, that's where I draw the line.”
“We're not...”
Two scholars came into the library. Both men, both entering their forties, and both with yellow eyes. Which probably made it easier to admit them into the palace, being highborn.
They introduced themselves as professors Merle and Darcen. Merle, the shorter, portly one, looked as if he'd eaten a few too many good meals. Darcen fit the role of professor better, with his half-moon glasses, well-trimmed, light blond, slightly graying hair, and sloping thin features. Both wore the blue robes of the academy.
“Let's get down to business,” Merle said, apparently unconcerned by Ronan's status. “We've heard that you uncovered some information regarding the disappearance of the sun, but you were unable to recover anything to help back up your story. So we have to take your word on it.”
Bethany didn't like the faint sneer of disdain in his voice. As if he was prepared already to throw away their statements.
“Yes, well,” Ronan said, “we were a little under stress at the time. Given that the catacombs we found in the swamplands were overpopulated by night horde creatures. Scholarly research wasn't the first thing on our minds.”
“Catacombs? Under the swamps?” Now Darcen raised his thin eyebrows, slightly incredulous. “We've uncovered little such evidence.”
“We could show you,” Ronan said. “But I wouldn't advise going in there unless you have a few hundred people with you to fight. And scholarly expeditions don't get the resources to do that, do they?”
“Oh, please, just stop,” Bethany said. “You're already getting heated up. You two are prepared to dismiss what we say immediately. Despite three of us going through the same experience. Just listen, please, before you make your waspish observations. You are supposed to be open to information, right?”
“Right,” Darcen replied grudgingly. Merle's chin wobbled petulantly, but he nodded.
“Alright then, Princess. Describe what you saw.”
As best as she could, Bethany described falling through the bog and landing in the caves, which had paintings all over the walls. Yelena and Ronan backed her up whenever needed. The scholars at least didn't interrupt, though they did look like they wanted to in places. When she talked about the mural images, Darcen actually took out a quill, inkpot, and paper to record what she said. The quill scratched rapidly across the surface, putting any scribe to shame.
Finishing with the night horde worshipping the effigy, they waited for the scholars to say something.
“And all three of you, again, confirm that this is what happened?” Darcen finished scribbling on the paper.
“Yes,” Yelena said.
“Believe me, we're still processing what had happened ourselves.” Ronan glanced helplessly at Bethany, believing, like her, that they didn't find the information compelling at all.
“It's not the first time we've heard about some mythical figure taking the sunlight,” Merle said. “Obviously something happened to the sun. People are torn with what occurred. The information you've said—none of it is new.”
This deflated Bethany's ego. “Oh?”
“No.” Merle gave her a thin smile. “Scholars have already postulated about the moon's orbit and positioning changing, blocking off the sunlight. That's actually the theory we most support at the moment. The one we're not sold on is the concept of some legendary being responsible for taking all the light.”
“And about the night horde worshipping an effigy?” Ronan leaned in. The scholars exchanged looks.
“That's interesting. If it's true. We'd need to see these caves for ourselves. But if they're as dangerous as you say... it'd be hard to figure out night horde culture.”
“You're interested in night horde culture? Not the bit about the sun?”
“We don't know much about the night hordes,” Merle admitted. “We know they're scattered around in the endless dark, that they're sensitive to light. We don't know if they have good higher thinking or whether they're just braindead bodies that react only by basic instinct to anything. But if you saw them worshipping something... that implies a culture.”
Bethany snorted to herself. She didn't care about the night horde culture. It was the least of their concerns, honestly. But it irritated her to think that this information they'd gleaned, at the risk of their lives, however accidental it might have been, was dismissed. Just like that.
Then she thought about her sister.
“Maybe the mural is more truthful than you give it credit for,” Bethany said, now clasping her hands together. Yelena's leg twitched nervously under the table. Ronan scratched at his nose, yellow eyes narrowed in irritation. Sprawled in an armchair at the end of the rectangular table, he looked like a decadent king, minus the crown.
“Yes?” Darcen was re-reading his notes, not really paying attention.
“You remember that I mentioned about the light warriors? People holding weapons made of light? You know we have an actual person in the palace that is able to conjure up light into a physical form?”
Merle's lips puckered in an unpleasant way. “Yes. We are aware of Kiara's odd affinity with lightweaving.”
“That's something else the mural got right then, isn't it? The moon is blocking the sun. That's your favorite theory. So you can argue that's one thing they're close to. The depiction of light warriors, wielding objects forged from light itself—and you have a living person able to do this. That's two things explained. And then,” she said, feeling inspired, “you have the night horde outright worshipping this shadow man image. Something that was likely passed down to them. And we do know that light can be stolen.”
Ronan and Yelena looked at Bethany, startled, as she raised her hands dramatically. Within seconds, every single light source had been extinguished in the library, leaving them in absolute blackness.
The scholars gasped. Bethany returned the lights as quickly as they had vanished. Merle's eyes were bulging. Darcen looked ready to explode.
“I better not get arrested for that,” Bethany muttered.
“That's... that's illegal!” Merle blustered.
“That's unusual,” Darcen said, his yellow eyes alarmed but puzzled at the same time. “You shouldn't be able to remove light so efficiently.”
Now Bethany appeared confused, ignoring the gasps from the students in the library. “We all know this is possible. We just don't do it.”
“Yes, but...” Now Darcen looked around, furtive, before raising his hand. Light gradually streamed from Bethany and Yelena's glow necklaces. The stream was quite visible, directing towards Darcen. “You see? When I draw on the light, it's slower and suctions towards me. But when you did it... the light vanished instantly.”
Two guards crashed in, faces thunderous.
“And we're going to have to explain what we've just done,” Merle said with a sigh. “I swear, Darcen, if you get me arrested, we're not speaking to each other again.”
One awkward conversation later, with a promise that what had happened was just an experiment (though they'd need to visit the king and queen later to confirm), Merle and Darcen stared at Bethany with more respect in their eyes.
“Perhaps what you say is right. Kiara does do strange magic—and you seem to have an unusual ability of your own. It's not normal to do it so fast. We'll discuss this with the others. And mention... your ability in passing.”
Better than no progress at all.
“We'll invite you to the academy as well,” Merle said. “Conduct some more tests on that magic of yours. Maybe see if you can take your sister's magic. That might be fascinating...”
Both men had the gleam of potential new knowledge in their eyes. The scholars bowed and left, and Bethany's mood brightened. A weight lifted off her chest.
They might not believe Bethany completely, but they weren't prepared to dismiss what she said anymore.
So that was something.
“You really, really shouldn't have done that without asking,” Ronan said. “We may not be as strict as the Fjordans with the whole lightweaving issue, but there's going to be questions. Not going to be fun, explaining to the king just why we decided to steal all the lights in the library.”
“That's the least of our worries,” Bethany said. “About time we do something with the night hordes, with finding out more about our past. Maybe even looking into finding out if we can return the light to the sun. If it's still up there, but hidden.” And I'd much prefer being involved in this than sitting around in Fjordan all the time.
She grinned, though the other two still appeared wary.
Bethany knew anyone could draw upon light. She just didn't realize that her ability was a little more immediate.
Kanthus is going to keep me busy for a while. Yelena left, promising to visit later, leaving Bethany and Ronan in the library together. Since the guards came, Ronan had reverted from slumping on his chair to sitting straight, hands clasped together.
“Well, this should be exciting,” Ronan said, now leaning forward to give Bethany a quick kiss on the cheek. She grabbed him before he could move away, and kissed him back on the lips.
“If we're not thrown in jail first, that is.”
“We'll be fine,” he assured her. “Probably.”
Bethany closed her eyes, thinking about the blur of nights that had passed. The images ran through her head, all feeling like different lifetimes. The terror of being in that cage, of hearing the sobs of others, the raucous laughter of the bandits and their broken huts. The fear and pity upon seeing the werewolf for the first time. All those scars, those wounds. Yelena, guarded, so careful, but taken along for the ride.
Drawing upon the lights, running, running. Sleepless latenights and the constant threat of the endless dark.
All of which led her here, accidental wife to a werewolf.
Not that she minded. As people went, you could do a lot worse than Ronan. Even if he acted like he knew this fact as well. He might just help her to relax her attitude on life a bit, help her to drop the mask she hated wearing.
Though she probably needed to stop stealing light...
“I still can't get used to it, you know,” Ronan said, his lower lip quavering for a moment. “Dealing with the fact I'm free. All the nights seemed to blur together after a while. Just... having them force-feed me. Sometimes taking me out, to stop me completely wasting away. They wanted me weak, but not too weak...”
His hand squeezed hers tightly. “I have bad dreams about it.”
Instantly, her blood pulsed in pity. “Of course you would. I don't think I want to imagine everything they put you through.”
“It's best not to tell you everything, Princess. But it wasn't anything good. The best times were when I'd be left alone, forgotten for a little while. Without my werewolf generation... I should have died. Each night blurred into another. And then you came. Not yet broken. Not yet sold. Bringing something back to my life that I'd long since abandoned. Hope.”
He lay his head gratefully against her hand, smiling in a way that made her both happy and want to cry.
“All I did was slip you a lock pick.”
“Ah... but you did so much more than just give a lock pick. I want you to understand that.”
“Really, it wasn't...” Bethany's words trailed off. He meant every word. Finally she accepted what he said. “Okay. I'm glad... you're out of that place now.”
“And I'm glad to be here with you.” He rubbed his cheek against her knuckles, still smiling in that blissful way.
So damn cute. She had to prod him on the nose, and she loved the way he wrinkled the skin around it when she did so.
“We should go somewhere else. Warmer. Like a bedroom.”
“Yes...” Bethany gently began to stand up, prompting him to do the same. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”
“I always have excellent ideas,” he replied, grinning as they walked out of the library.
Annora’s Dragon
By: Lisa Daniels
Chapter 1
Competition and Criminals
Annora looked around, her blue-green eyes taking in the picturesque landscape. Had she been anyone else, her breath would have been taken away by the way the rising sun reflected against the ocean and the brilliant colors of the sky. Annora noticed none of these things as she scanned the horizon. Her thoughts were focused on one thing only – finding the dragon that had burned down the villages of King Salmon and Marked Tree. The inhabitants of King Salmon had largely escaped with their lives, but the people of the small town of Marked Tree had not been so lucky. She had known many of those who had died. While she hadn’t been exactly friendly with them, the people had always treated her well, despite her profession. Dragon hunters were not popular. They were considered boorish, brutal, and generally cold. The people of Marked Tree had not felt that way; they had always been understanding that you did what you had to do to make a living. It was an easier sentiment for the people of Marked Tree to understand since that was the way most of them lived.
Initially, she had refused the request of King Salmon to hunt down the dragon, but after it decimated Marked Tree, she took up the contract. What Annora did not tell her employers was that she would go after the dragon with or without their payment. After all, if you could get paid while getting revenge, it provided a little extra incentive. Dragons were among the toughest creatures to kill, and there were times when the fight didn’t seem worth it. The odds of dying were significantly higher than surviving. It’s probably why dragon hunters were so wild and unpredictable. And they were incredibly expensive. You had to be either a certain type of desperate or a large amount of crazy to join this profession.
Annora was neither of these. Dragons had destroyed three of her homes by the time she was 12 years old, leaving her an orphan after the second attack. She never questioned what she should become. For her, the job was a vendetta.
That had been 15 years ago.
As the woman stood on the cliffside scanning for the familiar outline of a dragon, a few strands of her wavy, chestnut-colored hair passed over her vision. She seemed not to notice, her attention too intent on finding the one thing she was after. Standing there, any passerby would have thought she was a strange statue – a fair woman wearing men’s clothing and carrying a pair of weapons. The sword was angled up so that she could quickly remove it from the scabbard. A dirk was located slightly higher on the right side. Men who saw her often laughed, believing that she didn’t understand that real sword wielders carried the sword on the left side to make it easier to remove with the dominant right hand. Their laughter lasted only as long as it took Annora to level the sword at their throats, her left hand firmly grasping it with a level of expertise that few others had.
Annora’s eyes sparkled as her cold smile told the men she knew how to use the weapon just as well as they. “Yes, it should be on the opposite side of the dominant hand. Why do you think it’s on my right side?”
No man who ever tried to challenge her during these encounters was ever able to use a weapon afterward.
Men were easy when you were accustomed to dealing with dragons.
The breeze on the cliffside caused her dark-brown braid to sway, the only sign that she wasn’t a statue. The dragon hunter didn’t feel it gently tapping against the small of her back as she took in the horizon.
Then she saw it. The creature was smaller than most she had seen, but that didn’t mean anything when it came to dragons. Females tended to be smaller than males, but they were far more vicious. Of course, the dragon may have been young still and was testing out its strength and power for the first time. Annora watched the graceful arch as the dragon soared over the water in the distance. A wry grin spread across her face as she imagined how much fun the dragon was having. Probably the same look it had when it decimated Marked Tree.
She was about to move when a movement at the bottom of the cliff caught her attention. For a second, she thought she had seen wings. If there were two dragons, she would have to reconsider the agreement. Either she would require more money or turn it down.
Shaking her head, Annora knew that she couldn’t do anything without confirming a second dragon. The fact that the dragon on the horizon was playing indicated that it did not realize that another dragon was nearby, and dragons did not tend to be stealthy. With that kind of power and size, stealth was hardly a necessary (or practical) skill to have. Considering how territorial they were, there were only a few reasons why two would appear in the same area together. This kind of distance between them made no sense. It was likely that the wing belonged to something else, perhaps a griffin or siren.
Taking a step forward, Annora looked over the cliff. To her surprise, a human was walking along the beach, his eyes also on the dragon in the distance. Her eyes flicked up to watch the movement of the dragon on the horizon, then back to the man. He was tall with curly black hair that moved with the breeze sweeping along the beach. For a moment she stared at his figure as he moved along the edge of the waves in the same direction as the dragon. It was obvious that the man was a fighter. The way his muscles pressed against his clothing was easy to see even from the cliff top. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the tensed muscles in his arms as he stood and folded them to watch the dragon’s progress, the broadsword on his back left no question that he was a warrior.
She completely forgot about what had caused her to look over the edge in the first place.
Competition.
It was the only thought that mattered amidst the jumble of other words floating through her head as she gazed at him.
Her eyes swept over his figure one more time, taking in the details. Best to know the competition, she thought, unable to admit even to herself that he was rather pleasing to watch from such a distance. He quickly unfolded his arms and turned toward the cliff face. Annora was startled for a moment and backed away where she would not be seen. Giving her head a shake, the dragon slayer turned and quickly moved back into the woods following the same direction in which the dragon had gone. She was going to have to work fast with someone else also after it. There was no way she was going to let anyone else take this kill because it wasn’t just about the money. Annora was going to make it suffer for what it had done to the people of Marked Tree.
Annora walked into Defiance, a bustling town and port. She had only been there once before, nearly five years ago, and it had grown considerably since then. The change was a bit unsettling. Had the woman known that it had changed so drastically, she would have gone to Kildeer. However, that was another three miles out of the way, and she didn’t want to go so far out of her way just because of a bit of discomfort. Not at this hour. Not when someone else appeared to be after her kill.
She didn’t notice any of the merchants or customers going about their lives as she headed toward what had once been a small and inviting inn. To her disappointment, that inn had burned down three years ago. In its place was a merchants’ guild. Glaring at the building, Annora saw someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. It was getting dark, and she wasn’t accustomed to so much light, but it did make the shadows and movement much easier to detect.
“Hello…” Annora slowly turned to look at the man addressing her. He was about to say something, but stopped when he got close. “Oh. Hello, ma’am. What do you think?”
Annora watched as the man folded his arms over his chest. He was clearly a merchant and he was looking up at the building with a sense of pride.
Usually she would just turn and walk away, but she did need some information as she had no idea where to go for the night. She attempted a small smile when he looked at her. “It certainly looks nice.” The woman’s mind was scoffing at him as the man returned her smile with a huge grin.
“Nice!” He laughed. “There is no building in this magnificent town as costly or luxurious.”
Annora simply blinked at him. “Well, that is something, then.” She fought to keep her tone from being too sarcastic.
The man didn’t seem to notice. “It’s mine, you know.”
Suddenly Annora didn’t feel like asking this man for assistance. “Good for you.” Her tone was nearly monotone as she gave him a condescending look. “If you will-”
Ignoring her words, the man pressed on. “And I dare say you are quite a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He winked at her. Annora merely stared back at him, her cold eyes warning him not to continue. The man seemed oblivious to the warning. “I’ll tell you what. If you will give me the pleasure of your company for, oh, let’s say three days, I will-”
Annora spun on her heel, her braid hitting the man’s arm with an audible smack. Ignoring whatever he had to say, she walked purposefully back the way she had come.
Unsure of where to find lodgings, the dragon hunter headed toward the water. The town was located at the mouth of the Allia, the longest river in Senones, a country that, until recently, had been backward. After the Cremera War, though, Senones had been growing rapidly, having benefited from aiding the victorious country of Volsci. Annora didn’t know the politics behind it, nor did she care. The only thing that mattered to her was that the small town she once understood was now yet another place she planned to avoid in the future.
As she reached the port, a hand fell on her shoulder. The woman’s instinct was to draw her blade, but she could hear someone gasping for breath and saying her name.
“Annora! My gods, but I never expected to run into you here!” There was a very melodic laugh and the tension eased from Annora’s shoulders.
Turning to face the woman, Annora tried to keep her face straight. “Hello, Bree.” She could not help the way one of her eyebrows raised and the corner of her mouth likewise went up.
There was another laugh as the curly-haired, redheaded woman placed a hand on her hip and stood up straight. Dramatically, she expelled a long breath, “Wooooo, but you are a hard woman to catch.” She beamed from ear to ear. “Don’t know what brought you here, but damn, it is good to see you. It’s been, what? Three? Four years?”
Annora couldn’t hide a small smile. “It’s been a year and a half.”
Bree looked shocked. “That’s it? Are you sure? No! It has to have been longer! Your hair is almost twice as long now.”
Annora shook her head, the braid swaying back and forth. “Just a couple of inches. It was just after the war ended. That was about two years ago.” Bree’s eyebrows were furrowed. “Remember? We were in Illyrian when the army came through and you-”
Bree began laughing. “Oh yeah! That was amazingly fun. You should have joined me.”
Annora just shook her head.
Bree looked her friend in the eyes. “So, where are you staying and for how long?”
Annora looked out over the water. “Just staying for the night, but I don’t have a where yet. The Boar’s Snout Inn burned down and I really don’t know anywhere else.”
Bree threaded her arm through Annora’s. “Now that’s what I want to hear. You’re coming with me.” Annora knew better than to try to fight at this point – Bree had never been one to listen once she heard what she wanted to hear. A rare smile spread across the dragon hunter’s face as her friend gently steered them toward one of the more luxurious inns in Defiance.
Annora stepped out of The Palace Paradise and shook her head. Bree had finagled a room for her, despite how packed the place was, and had managed to get it for free. Laughingly, Bree had told her that the room wasn’t free, it just wasn’t a bill that either of them would be paying. The woman was a couple of years younger than Annora with a personality that was the complete antithesis of Annora’s, despite the pair having grown up on the streets together in the modest city of Achaean. Bree’s given name had been Brianna, but she had always said it was too formal. Where Annora was cold and serious to a fault, Bree was charismatic and gregarious almost to the point of obnoxiousness.
Still, Annora loved her like a sister and was sad when Bree had taken her to a small but nicely-furnished room, then announced that she had to tend to a few things that night. Annora thought she knew what Bree was up to, so it was best not to ask, just as Bree never asked her about dragon hunting. Their outlooks on life were very different, and both felt the other had taken on a job that was too dangerous. The best way to avoid arguments was to simply avoid talking about work.
Bree had given her a big hug and headed toward the door. The young woman placed a hand on the door frame and paused. With an uncharacteristically serious look, she turned to face Annora. The dragon hunter felt a sense of dread. Bree was almost never serious unless it was bad news.
Bree bit her lower lip, looked to the window, then up at the ceiling, before fixing her sparkling green eyes on Annora, “Naya says she forgives you.”
Annora felt her stomach lurch. Whatever she had expected, that was not it. She looked toward the window.
Bree gave a humorless smile. “I know you aren’t ready to forgive yourself yet, but I think you owe it to her to at least pay a visit and talk. She’s not a child anymore.”
Annora heard Bree’s footsteps as the woman moved down the hall. Annora closed her eyes and for a few moments she felt lost. With a quick shake of her head, the dragon slayer decided she needed to head outside before her thoughts went where she wasn’t ready to go.
And that was how she found herself in an unfamiliar part of a growing town, unsure which way to go. Cursing herself, Annora wished she had at least asked where she could get a decent meal. The cost of the room was covered, but nothing else, and the dragon slayer was starving. Her head swiveled left and right. Deciding that direction didn’t matter, Annora stepped out into the night.
Her mind managed to keep track of all of the twists and turns she took while she looked for somewhere that would have decent food at a reasonable price. Usually following the smell was the easiest way to find a place where the food tasted like it was fresh. Annora may not have been particularly picky about the type of food she ate most of the time (after all, she really didn’t have that luxury when on the hunt), but it was one of the few benefits of being in a town. The dragon slayer greatly preferred the freedom and mobility of the wild, and detested being stuck in a place full of people. However, well-cooked meals were one of the few comforts Annora enjoyed when she was forced to remain in a populated place. Beds were the other benefit that she found great comfort in as the number of dangers were significantly reduced. The feel of a bed was also nice, although she felt more bothered about who may have slept in the bed before her than she felt about the animals who last slept in wherever she decided to sleep when she was in the wild.
Annora grimaced as her stomach growled. It had been a very long day, and she now regretted her earlier decision to skip food in favor of making progress.
She was distracted enough as she turned down a darker street that she did not notice the two figures that stepped out of the shadow. Annora didn’t walk very far before she realized the folly of allowing herself to be distracted. Cursing herself again, this time under her breath, Annora decided to make quick work of it.
In the dim light, it looked like she placed her hands on her hips as she stopped walking. The woman’s voice sounded annoyed as she spoke. “Sorry, but if you are looking for easy prey, you haven’t found it yet. I won’t even turn around so you can slink away and pretend this never happened.”
There was a derisive laugh behind her, then a higher-pitched male voice said, “Oh, I think we have found the perfect person for our little adventure. There’s nothing like a woman who knows how to act tough. They are the sweetest to take down.” His laugh echoed through the alley.
Slowly, she turned around and looked at the two thugs, men who clearly had enough money, so they didn’t need to prey on tourists who roamed into the wrong part of town. That meant the guys had been following her for a while, and there was only one way to take that –they were part of the criminal underground. The dragon slayer rolled her eyes as she tapped her sword and dirk. The first person she had talked to and this was the result. She made sure the metal gleamed as she partially drew them out. “These aren’t just for show.”
The sound of the man’s voice grated on her ears as he gave a cold, humorless laugh. “If you were a real fighter, you would know that the sword goes on the left side. Only a fool or a woman would wear it in the wrong place.” His smile was a sneer.
Annora simply blinked at him.
The man stepped forward and continued, “The boss didn’t like the way you turned him-”
The man’s voice wavered as the sound of metal hissed in the evening and the two weapons appeared leveled at his throat and stomach. A cold smile spread across her face. To make the point that she wasn’t incompetent, she quickly drew them back and twirled the sword and dirk, returning them to the same spot when she was done. It was obvious from looking at them that the sword pointed at his throat and the dirk at his stomach were well used and the edges really sharp.
The man’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard before leering at her. “Sorry, sweetheart, but flashy tricks don’t mean anything.”
Annora realized too late that she had given the man in front too much attention. The second man threw a small dagger. Unable to dodge it, she changed its direction with her dirk. She felt the edge gash her right bicep. The street was dark enough that it was nearly impossible to see that wound, and she was not one to make a sound when wounded. Annora immediately moved forward, her weapons moving in unison. The man in front tried desperately to fend them off with his own sword only to find that the woman’s skill far outmatched his own.
The fight lasted only a few seconds. Annora’s sword plunged into his chest as her dirk slashed across his throat. It was certainly more than was necessary, but she was in a really bad mood. She used her foot to push the dying man away and immediately turned to fight the second. To her annoyance, he had already turned to run and was several hundred feet ahead of her. She dashed off after him, cursing as he reached the corner of a building and disappeared from sight.
Her weapons still out, she reached the corner and almost immediately froze. Her weapons were up and ready to fight the shadow lurking in the alley. Without a word, she dashed forward, her weapons looking for a second kill.
The sound of metal rang out in the night. Then a male voice spoke in the darkness. “You’ve missed him.”
Annora had been pushed back. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as a different figure emerged from the shadows. She had not seen much of the second man, but she knew he was not as tall as the figure before her, nor had he been as muscular.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Her voice was cold and accusing.
The clouds that had covered the moon passed for a brief moment, and she was able to get a better look at the man’s face. His eyes were deep and dark, and in the moonlight they almost looked red. Not as if they were bloodshot, but because the whites of his eyes were a very bright white. His jaw line was very sharp, and his nose a little large, although it fit his very rugged features. Stubble lined his jaw and encircled his mouth, drawing her eyes to rosy red lips, the kind of lips she thought only belonged to men of leisure. His hair was almost as dark as the night. A gleam of metal also caught her eye, and Annora could tell from the location that the man carried a broadsword.
Shit, she thought, immediately recognizing him as the figure on the beach. It looked like her competition had also made it this far, too. Regretting that she had not pushed further that night, Annora tried to find an excuse to keep from talking to him. The less they talked, the better. She knew it was only a matter of time until he would inquire about her clothing, and there were too few reasons to give for it.
The man’s expression was one of surprise as he looked at her. It was not a look that she liked as it was one that Annora had come to associate with having to kill. Fully expecting the encounter to go wrong, the dragon slayer relaxed her stance. Though she looked at ease, her weapons were ready for what she felt was inevitable in the current situation.
The man smiled, and her brain told her that it was a pleasant sight. Her eyes narrowed in disapproval of such a girlish thought.
The man raised an eyebrow at her reaction to his smile. “I didn’t stop him because I had no business with him myself.”
Annora’s expression did not change. “Oh, how gallant of you to feel it is none of your business when two men attempt to assault a woman in a dark street.”
The man grinned, his teeth shining as the moon passed behind another cloud. For a moment, Annora thought his teeth looked a little too pointed. Had she not seen him about during the day, she would have suspected him of being one of the undead. There was clearly something off about him, though.
The man seemed relaxed as he looked up at the sky. “Oh, most nights I probably would have stepped in. It’s not like I enjoy lurking in alleys, but it didn’t appear my intervention was necessary this time. I hate to get in the way.” There was sincerity in his voice, but it still sounded more like an excuse to her.
“You let a criminal escape.”
“You could probably still catch him.” His expression was calm as he spoke, his voice low and gentle.
Annora shook her head, then she turned. As she returned to the corpse of the first attacker, she said, “And do what? By now he’s in a high traffic area or made his way into a building, which increases his advantages. I’ve no desire to-” Pain shot through her as she began to wipe her dirk on the corpse. She had forgotten about her injury. Refusing to let the man see that she was already injured, Annora continued to talk, although her voice was more aggressive as she kept it steady through the pain, “-to go hunting in a town that is nearly a city. He will likely meet his end some other night playing the thug for that merchant.” She tried to make it clear that she did not want to continue talking to him.
There was silence behind her, and the young fighter hoped that meant he had left. Annora turned, thinking that she may be talking to herself, hoping that was the case. Her disappointment was palpable as she realized he had followed her a ways and watched as she checked to make sure the man was dead, saying nothing as she cleaned her weapons and stood to face him. Once she was looking at him, the man reached out a hand. “I’m Elian.”
Annora’s stomach growled in response. As the man laughed, she glared at him. She did not offer her hand in return, but her eyes took in his features as the clouds moved on. The moon shone brightly on his face and his laughing, reddish eyes.
Elian did not seem offended as he smiled at her. “I dare say you are hungry. Would you mind if I accompanied-”
Suddenly a shadow passed over the moon, a shadow that was certainly not a cloud. Both the man and the woman immediately looked up and saw the outline of a dragon passing overhead.
Elian watched for a moment, his eyes following the trajectory that the dragon must have taken. He turned to look at the woman to make an excuse to leave, but found that she was already gone. Blinking and looking around him, Elian had no idea which way she had gone. Then his eyes went to the ground and a barely perceptible trail of blood.
“And just what is your interest in a dragon?” His words were spoken into the night, a sign that the woman had captured his attention and curiosity. The man took a few steps in the same direction that the woman had gone before he recovered himself. “Now’s not the time for distractions.” He cocked his head to the side and wondered for another brief moment, clearly ignoring his own advice.
With a faint smile, he turned and moved down a different alley.