Dark Highland Fire

Gabriel groaned softly, sliding his hands into his hair and propping his elbows on his knees. He had been rescued by Bastian an Morgaine, by some strange stroke of luck or fate. At least whoever had saved his hide had mentioned something about being Bastian before he'd blacked out. And he certainly wasn't in the desert anymore.



These were mountains.



He looked around him, absorbing his surroundings and trying to make some sense of them. He'd been resting beneath an overhang of smooth, black rock, so enclosed as to be like a small cave. There was a crumpled blanket of rough material on the ground beside him, which told him he had been covered at some point. A blast of wind blew past him, smelling faintly of smoke, and Gabriel shivered. Making a quick decision, he wrapped himself in the blanket, crouched so as not to hit his head, and made his way out under the open sky.



Wherever he'd ended up, he needed to know.



If only he'd had some kind of frame of reference for what he was seeing.



Gabriel's eyes widened as he took in a landscape unlike any he'd ever seen, one of stark yet breathtaking beauty. He stood on a large, flat outcropping of rock on the side of a mountain that was black as night, looking out on the tall and jagged spires of more of the same as far as the eye could see. The ground, far below him, was invisible beneath a layer of silvery mist that roiled and shifted like some alien ocean. And above it all stretched a sky of deep bluish purple, the color of twilight on Earth, and yet somehow more. There was a faint hint of shimmering movement in the depths of that endless canopy, a constant blending of color as it balanced between fading light and deepest darkness. Occasionally there was a quick and jagged flash of lightning.



It was both beautiful and terrifying, Gabriel thought as he stared into the distance. But unlike the barren desert he'd been rescued from, this air crackled with an energy and vitality all its own. He drank it in eagerly, feeling immediately more alert, feeling his faded strength return.



Good, he thought. He would need all of it he could spare, because he was more certain by the minute about where he had arrived. Unless he was mistaken, these were the mountains of the dragons. And he had no illusions about why, of all places, this was where he'd been brought. His enemies were here. Mordred and Lucien Andrakkar were here.



And somewhere in these fields of stone, so was Rowan.



"Good. You're up."



The soft, raspy voice startled him. At first glance he'd been utterly alone. Now, however, he saw that there was a tall, blond-haired figure perched at the far edge of the outcropping, his back to Gabriel. Clad in a rich blue tunic and tall black boots, the figure never moved a muscle, never turned to make eye contact. Still, though Gabriel had only ever met him once before, he had no question about who his company was.



There was no mistaking Bastian an Morgaine.



Gabriel made his way to the edge, steeling himself against the wave of dizziness that wanted to throw him off balance when he saw exactly how high up they were. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered himself to sit beside Bastian, determined not to show any fear. He felt he succeeded admirably, though it was a full minute before he could speak.



He was a werewolf, not a bird. And oh, how he hated heights.



"I'm up," he said simply, and it was then that Bastian turned the full force of his crystalline blue gaze on him. The difference in his appearance between this meeting and last shocked him. Weariness and worry were etched deeply onto Rowan's brother's face, revealing lines that Gabriel didn't remember being there before. His first impression of the lone male Dyim had been one of quick mind and a sort of dangerous vitality. Now it was like looking at a different man.



Then again, Gabriel thought as another strong gust of wind tore through him, chilling him to the bone, he supposed Bastian could well be thinking the same about him.



"Do you know where we are?" Bastian asked, his expression unreadable.



Gabriel nodded. "Dragon country, right?"



Bastian smiled thinly. "The Black Mountains, lair of the dragons. And of the Andrakkar. I'm sorry for having brought you here so quickly, without much rest, but there was no time. If the Goddess is kind, you'll be able to heal properly at the camp after this."



"T would have kicked your ass if you'd brought me anywhere else," Gabriel replied, and Bastian's amusement was a little less strained this time.



"You can try that... and fail, of course ... later. Right now all that matters is getting Rowan out of this mountain while she's still able to leave."



Gabriel looked around him, at the unforgiving landscape. Then he looked back at Bastian. "I hope I'm missing something. Because flying, for my kind at least, is out of the question."



Bastian was unruffled. "You can't see it from our position here, but behind us is the Lunin Desert," he explained patiently. "The dragon fortress of Drak'ra lesh, upon which we now sit, touches it."



Gabriel's eyes shot immediately to the sky, scanning it for any sign of enormous serpents with large teeth. "We're sitting on their fortress? I just thought it was a bloody mountain! Don't you think we should be more ... hidden?"



Bastian waved his hand imperiously in a gesture Gabriel had seen from Rowan more than once. Just that small memory of her calmed him somewhat, and refocused his agitation. Still, he wasn't sure that hanging around atop a dragon castle in plain sight was the best idea. His companion, however, disagreed.



"It's early in the day yet. The dragons don't stir themselves if they can help it before afternoon at least. That should work to our advantage, since the palace within the mountain is vast. It may take you the day, and the hidden way in is long. Among other things." He frowned and looked away for a moment, and a chill rose the hackles on the back of Gabriel's neck. Still, whatever had to be done to get Rowan back, that he was willing to do. And as far as he was concerned, the sooner, the better.



No matter what "other things" were involved.



"Just point me in the right direction, then, and I'll go," Gabriel said, impatience welling up and threatening to spill over. "If that bastard has touched her already ... and she doesn't know I'm alive, what if she doesn't fight? What if she's already given up?"



"No," Bastian said sharply. "She's fine right now. Frightened, but fine. And more than a little furious, which in her case is a good sign." At Gabriel's puzzled stare, Bastian simply shrugged. "Sometimes I can sense things. Emotions, intentions. Especially when I'm close to the person in question. It's nothing much, really. But I can't say it wasn't useful last night. Just as I'm glad for it right now. I'd rather know she's all right."



"Last night?"



Bastian arched one slim brow at him. "How do you think I knew where you were? I heard ... felt... Rowan. Screaming for you."



Gabriel felt ill. "Screaming? She was screaming?" He hadn't caused her anguish on purpose, but knowing he'd done it at all didn't settle well.



"No, not the way you're thinking," Bastian said, shaking his head as though he were teaching someone a wee bit slow. "In her mind. She was crying out for someone, anyone, to save you from the daemon. Her love came through like nothing I've ever felt before. Not," he continued with a bitter twist of his lips, "that I've ever been in love before. But even I couldn't mistake it."



"She saved me," Gabriel said softly, blowing out a breath. It was humbling to think that the woman he'd been so determined to save had flipped the tables on him so neatly. She had protected him when he had been rendered incapable of protecting himself. And she'd done it selflessly. Now it was his turn.



"I think I deserve maybe a little credit," Bastian said with a faint shadow of a smile. "Nonetheless, yes, she did. You seem to have captured my sister's affections completely, something I never thought I'd see happen. Especially not under these circumstances. But then she always did like to do everything the hard way."



Gabriel looked into the distance, trying to wrap his brain around it. Not only had Rowan given him her blood to survive, she'd managed to call her brother to him to get him the hell away from those foul, flesh-eating daemon. He'd started off thinking she was a hot-tempered, blood-drinking menace. Actually, he thought wistfully, he still thought those things. But in the best sense possible. Turned out she was one hell of a warrior besides. Christ, how he missed her. It had only been hours since he'd seen her.



It might have been years.



"She doesn't really need anyone to protect her, does she?" Gabriel wondered aloud. In truth, it was something that had nagged at him since she'd hurled him against a wall the night they'd met. "Why did you leave her with me? She can obviously take care of herself, so why?"



Bastian shrugged. "Rowan takes everything onto herself. And she's brave to the point of insanity some-times. I know she thinks I live to try to run her life ... and I do occasionally try, I'll admit, though that's the surest path to self-inflicted pain I know of. But in truth, I just didn't want to leave her alone. Your possession of a Na'an Taleth was wonderful luck. Best to leave her among equals, with a sparring partner she couldn't readily defeat and extra eyes that were trustworthy. Drakkyn are stronger united, and I'm glad that the bond between our people hasn't died. I can see I was right about your stubbornness."



"There may also be some insanity involved," Gabriel returned. He thought for a moment, then said softly. "She's my mate."



Bastian seemed to mull that over, then gave a short nod. He gazed into the distance. "The circle rejoins. That's as it should be. And when this is over, our tribes will need to meet. Perhaps some of the arukhin will want to return to the Noor. It's high time, I think. Ultimately, it isn't my decision, of course. But I have no doubt our sisters will have plenty to say about the possible return-of the forest warriors. Particularly in light of the attack. They're ready for a change."



Gabriel studied him, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know. "You've been here. How many of your people, your sisters, are left?"