Chapter Seven

 

His head throbbed in pain as if it had been split wide open. He groaned, moving slowly to get up as every single motion sent another wave of pain through his skull. When he opened his eyes, squinting against the sharp morning light filtering through the window, he realized he had been laying on the floor. Confused, he tried to think back on what had happened.

All he could remember was pain. The same pain that throbbed through his head right in this moment. He groaned and went to close his eyes again when he noticed the blood. The carpeting he had been laying on was stained a dark crimson color, dry at the edges but still wet. It hadn’t been there long. Reaching up to touch his head, he hissed at the pain and his hand came away stained with red. A sudden wave of fear and worry washed over him and, despite his pain and nausea, he leapt to his feet.

“Gabriella?!” he called, looking around the entire living space of the suite for his wife. “Gabriella, where are you?”

There was no answer. A bit off-balance, he moved through the hotel suite looking for his wife and daughter. Isidora’s bassinet was empty, yet her binkie and blanket were still there. His search began simple enough, checking every corner of the suite, but soon enough his efforts turned frantic and he began to tear the place apart…mostly out of frustration than in hopes of finding his wife or daughter.

When he finally gave up, he was sitting on the floor in the middle of the suite, panting and crying with rage. His wife and daughter were gone. Memories of the previous night came back to him in painful and confusing flashes. His naked and lustful wife. Their daughter crying. Getting kicked in the face.

He had no idea who had broken into their suite, let alone how. He also had no idea where they had taken Gabriella and Isidora, let alone why. He didn’t know what to do and for some time, he simply sat there and stared off into oblivion. He had done everything he thought necessary to keep them safe during this trip. He had kept Isidora off the radar to an extent that it had cost him thousands…and yet it had all been for nothing. They were gone.

Santiago had never felt such a strong sense of anxiety, fear and anger as he did in the hours that followed the loss of his wife and infant daughter. He felt as though an endless blackness had been ripped open in his chest that fed him nothing but pain. He felt a white-hot anger that left him in a boiling rage when the realization hit him that he had no idea what had happened to his wife and child…no idea where they had been taken, or by whom.

Once he had pushed through that initial shock and flood of anger, he wasted no time in getting all of their things packed and ready to go, not to mention cleaning up the gash across his eyebrow and forehead as best he could. The small bandages in Gabriella’s emergency to-go kit would have to do.

A lavish tip was left in the room, for the turn-down service that would inevitably wind up handling the mess he had left behind, and he paid the bill at the front desk without a single word. Inside he was seething, teeth clenched and shoulders tight, with rage and determination. He would find what had happened to his wife and daughter and he would do whatever it took to bring them back whole and safe. Alas, he had absolutely no Dragon contacts in Spain, ironically enough, and had little choice but to continue the last leg of their journey to his family in Romania if he wanted the help he knew he was going to need. He only hoped they might know something to point him in the right direction.

The flight from Spain to Romania was a short one and yet it felt agonizingly the opposite. Santiago sat, alone and in silence, his eyes staring blankly through the port window as tension mounted in his shoulders. Every moment that passed took him further and further from his wife and daughter, yet there was nothing he could do about it but continue forward and hope that his determination to bring them back did just that. The flight crew was ignored the entire trip as his mind whirled with the possibilities of what was happening to his wife and child. Who had taken them? And why?

Deep down, he knew the answer as to why they were taken, but to admit such a thing would dredge up such a well of fear that it would have drowned him. Subconsciously, he must have known this and kept the thoughts at bay. Instead, he focused on the Who. A question he had not a single solid answer for.

Fidgety and inpatient, he nearly leapt from his seat the moment they had officially landed. Taking the stairs two at a time, he flew down to the tarmac with a heavy-footed thud, taking a handful of steps before actually paying attention to what was around him.

A gorgeous, deep crimson Alfa Romero 6C Sport Berlinetta sat idling on the tarmac a dozen or so yards from the plane. Standing beside it, dressed like a proper driver, stood a man who, Santiago guessed, was in his late 50s. The man flagged Santiago down with a simple raise of his hand before moving to open the door and wait for him. Santiago felt the first hint of relief, realizing that his family here in Romania had sent a personal vehicle and driver for him. Of course, they had no idea what had happened in Spain, considering the slightly confused look on the driver’s face when no one else disembarked the plane and joined Santiago in the car. The driver was good, for his part, and chose not to ask about it. He simply closed Santiago’s door for him, got into the car himself and started to drive.

Santiago road in the back of the vehicle, staring blankly through the window as the world around him rolled by. He registered very little of what he saw, despite the beauty of the landscape around him, as his mind was too entrenched in thoughts of his wife and daughter.

His plane had landed at the Sibiu International Airport, giving him a glorious view of the Southern Carpathian Mountains as they had descended from flight. His driver then took him along a south-easterly route towards the mountains themselves. Santiago stared blankly at the quiet towns and rolling foothills that passed by out his window, absorbing very little of it even as they began to make the slow climb up the mountains.

At one point, they passed a sign which stated they were climbing up the Cindrel Mountains, specifically. Something registered within Santiago and he realized that they were nearly to the home of his distant relatives. He began to pull himself back to the reality of the moment, his amber eyes sharp as he watched the road ahead for any signs of the estate.

His driver turned down a private road that, had they not turned directly onto it, Santiago would have never known was there otherwise. The road was narrow, guarded close by thick forest on both sides as it wound gently up a side-slope of the mountain, and despite Santiago’s efforts he could see little hint of how close the estate actually was. That is, until their car rounded a soft bend and he was suddenly greeted by the sight of a massive and impressive estate built directly into a nearly vertical rise in the mountainside.

Santiago was impressed as the car pulled up to park in the looped driveway just in front of a rather large and intimidating stone gate. His driver exited and came around to open his door, a move that snapped Santiago out of his haze and prompted him to climb out of the vehicle. The driver gave a subtle gesture for him to go on by himself and then got back into the car before driving around to the hidden side of the stone gates where he and the car seemed to disappear.

He made his way, unhesitant, towards the main entrance of the estate. The gate had been left open, and despite the dozen-foot-high stone walls surrounding the property, he could still see the main door as if it beckoned to him directly. Even from this distance he could tell it had been carved with intricate detail and he felt the desire to see it up close. The moment he put a single step within the confines of those stone walls, however, he was greeted most unexpectedly.

A burst of flame, one from either side of the gated entrance, shot out to cross before him and block his path ahead. With a shout of shock, Santiago stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing against the searing heat. As the flames dissipated, a familiar sound met his ears. The low, ground-rumbling sound of a Dragon’s warning. It was a sound unlike any other. A strange mixture of a lion’s roar, the hiss of a snake, and oddly…the click of a cockroach. It was a sound that stopped him just as much as the fire did. Slowly, he let his eyes shift towards his right.

The sight he saw was one that would have scared the soul out of the average man…but to Santiago it was a sight that left him with such an overwhelming sense of relief he nearly collapsed. Standing nearly as tall as the stone walls surrounding the estate was a fully-grown Dragon. The beast was a rich, near-golden amber color the same as Santiago’s own eyes. His solid and muscular frame was covered in a thick layer of scales that ran from his snout to the tip of his tail, all of which looked as if someone had taken a delicate, dry, golden paint brush to leaves of solid bronze. Had the Dragon not been breathing, a curl of smoke rising from its maw, Santiago might have thought him a perfect statue.

A similar hissing growl sounded from his left and Santiago turned towards it. For a moment, he thought he was facing the same Dragon…yet he knew that the first beast still hovered just to his right. When he took a moment to really look, he realized that this second dragon was somewhat darker than the first and just a hint smaller. Instead of a burnished, amber-gold…this second Dragon seemed to be of a rich and chocolatey-brown color…as if someone had taken the first dragon and dipped him in a vat of cocoa. Santiago nearly smiled…until the Amber Dragon to his right smashed a clawed talon down dangerously close and snarled.

The second Dragon followed suit and gave Santiago no doubt about what was about to happen. They had to know who he was, just as he realized they had to be his relatives, and yet they gave him no leeway or slack. They demanded something of him…and Santiago knew he would have no choice but to oblige and prove himself.

Rolling his neck to the side, he stretched the muscles until they popped and he cleared his throat. With his eyes kept open, he let the Dragon inside of him take hold and bring about the change in him. His bones began to snap and shift, growing in size and length as his skin stretched to contain it all. His neck stretched long and his face followed suit, transforming into the snout of a Dragon, complete with snapping jaws and forked tongue.

He lurched forward, his hands landing hard against old stone as they stretched and turned to massive claws. As his shoulder blades popped from his back and grew into impressive wings, a burst of scales exploded across his body like ripples in water. They were followed by a change in color across his entire form. What had once been the dark caramel of his skin was replaced by a dark and almost sinister silver color. Given the right light…he could have been made of solid stone or pure metal. An impressive sight, indeed.

The three Dragons stood their ground against one another for a long moment. The forest around them fell silent with the tension rising between them. Finally, when Santiago began to feel unsure of what would happen, the other two Dragons lowered their massive heads in a show of respect. Santiago reciprocated like his father had taught him all those years ago and lowered his own head, placing it flat against the ground. The move showed his acceptance of their respect yet also his understanding of their dominance in this place. They would welcome him without issue.

Mere moments later and all three had transformed back into their human selves. Three grown men stood naked as the day they were born, a pile of tattered clothing at Santiago’s bare feet. The other two men, quite obviously brothers based on their shared features, sported welcoming smiles…even if they were small and tight-lipped.

“Cousin Santiago, I assume?” said the older-looking of the two, the one who had been the Amber Dragon only moments before.

“Cousin Geza?” Santiago asked in response.

“Yes. Welcome, Cousin Santiago.” The man nodded and then gestured towards the other fellow, quite obviously his younger brother. “My brother, Costin.”

Santiago offered his hand to shake in greeting with both of them. Just as with the flight crew and driver, neither of his cousins asked about the absence of his wife and daughter. While Santiago had been thankful of that from the Help, he found it curious from his family.

Once the basic pleasantries been taken care of, the two men led Santiago in through the main doors of the house, giving him a preciously short glance at the intricate design and details carved into them. The front doors were only the tip of the iceberg, as it were. The moment he set foot inside the house itself, he was in pure awe.

Everything was old. Extremely old. From what he could tell, it seemed as though much of the place had been carved right out of the mountain itself. Unending walls of stone ran along all sides of the massive entrance hall. It reminded him of their home back in Ensenada, with the large entrance hallway large enough to house two fully grown Dragons. He wondered if his father had built the house to resemble this place.

After the three of them had been handed simple robes by someone Santiago assumed was the household staff, he was lead through to a more regular-sized hall, rather than up the impressive stone staircase, that ran deeper into the mountain from the entrance hall. A number of rooms, some open and some closed off, branched from this main hallway as it burrowed into the stone. He followed his cousins, a myriad of thoughts and questions running through his mind as they went, until they stopped and gestured for him to enter one of the open rooms.

With curiosity, he stepped into the room and glanced about. What he saw was a simple study. A large room of stone walls, lined with books and works of art and filled with comfortable yet simple furniture. Settled in a chair, bathed in sunlight filtering down from a deep-cut skylight in the ceiling and reading a book, sat an older man in perhaps his early 50s. The resemblance to the two younger men was obvious. This man was their father…which made him Santiago’s Uncle Luca. Santiago took the bull by the horns.

“Uncle Luca,” he said, taking stride into the room as he offered his hand to the man, as he was still seated.

Luca looked up from his book, sizing up his nephew as the younger man approached him. He did not shake Santiago’s hand, but instead closed his book and set it on the small table beside his chair. He then folded his hands in his lap.

“I am surprised to see your wife and daughter not at your side, Santiago,” Luca said in a calm, almost blasé tone of voice that caught Santiago of guard.

“It is not intentional, Uncle, I assure you,” Santiago replied, holding back the pain in his voice as best he could. He did not want to show weakness upon first meeting his extended family.

“Oh?” Luca posed curiously. “Please, explain.”

And so, Santiago did. He explained everything to his uncle from start to finish. He told of the first time Isidora shifted into her Dragon form, her pure white color and startlingly blue eyes. He told his uncle about the night in Spain and what had happened at the hotel, how two men had somehow broken into the suite, knocked him silly, and absconded with not only the baby…but with Gabriella as well. He even explained, in detail, all the steps he had taken to ensure Isidora and the truth about her would be safe as they traveled. He paced, showing his frustration through his tone and the way his hands gestured angrily with his story. Luca only watched and listened, waiting for Santiago to finish.

“I am deeply sorry this has happened to you, my nephew,” Luca said, his voice a low and gruff one though he spoke kindly. “Though I must be honest in telling you that I am not surprised at what has transpired.”

“What?” Santiago said, a look of shock and confusion on his face.

“Sit, I will explain,” Luca said as he gestured towards another chair that sat nearby. Once Santiago had sat down, he continued. “Santiago. I do not think you truly understand how important your daughter is to our world…to our culture.”

Santiago just stared at him, a look of scrutiny on his face as he listened. He understood how important it was that his daughter was a Dragon and the only female of their kind to be born in nearly 500 years. But his uncle made it seem far, far more than just that.

“Santiago,” Luca said, a hint of pity in his voice. “Aside from the rarity of such a birth, a female Dragon is special and coveted for her ability to give birth to full-blooded Dragons. Do you understand?”

“I…I believe so, Uncle,” he said, though he only partially understood what his uncle meant.

“My dear nephew…” Luca sighed and shook his head. “I do not wish to alarm you further, but whoever abducted your wife and daughter intend to either keep the child for themselves…or sell her to the highest bidding Dragon family. She will be used to breed…”

He said it so casually it took Santiago a moment to fully grasp what he was being told. His daughter…his baby girl, just months old…had been stolen from her bed so she could grow up and become some strange family’s Dragon-baby factory? The thought made his stomach curl and he felt the threat of vomit come over him. Luca, thankfully, could tell, and gestured to one of his sons to fetch something for Santiago to drink.

“I am sorry, my boy. But it is the most likely truth as to why she was taken,” Luca told him. “I also have a theory on who may have been the ones to take her.”

That little comment was enough to snap Santiago out of his nauseous state. His eyes locked onto Luca, narrowing as he sat forward in his seat. If he had some clue, some direction to start in towards finding his family…he would take it.

“Who?!” he demanded, perhaps a bit too sharply. “Tell me who they are! Do you know their names?”

Luca held up his hand to stop Santiago. The man was hardly a dozen years older than Santiago and yet he held an aura about him that seemed far wiser and far older than what he really was. It was enough that his subtle gesture accomplished what it set out to and stopped Santiago cold.

“Calm yourself, Santiago,” Luca said as he lowered his hand. “I know nothing for certain, only my best assumption based on my knowledge of other Families.”

Santiago settled, but only slightly. He hoped that what his uncle provided him was something solid and worthwhile that he could go off of, rather than rumor and gossip spun into controversy. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat as he waited and listened.

“The Visconti Family of Milan,” Luca started, settling back into his seat as if to tell a story. Which he very well did. “Long ago, the forefather of that family played a ruse upon the entire area around Lake Gerundo. He had, as a Dragon, wrought destruction down upon the area without care or worry for its people. When a series of knights and young warriors came after him, though they were easily dispatched, he realized someday soon a warrior would succeed in taking him down.”

Luca paused, sending Santiago’s anxiety skyrocketing once more. He couldn’t have cared less about this history lesson his uncle was imparting upon him. All he cared to know was who had taken his daughter…and where. Luca had told him the Visconti Family out of Milan. What more did he need to know? Luca could sense his nephew’s tension and continued with his explanation.

“A clever fellow, known as Umberto, he traveled to the villages surrounding the lake, brandishing the claw from his very own left foot as proof he had killed the wretched beast that plagued them all. His trickery was believed and he was hailed as a hero, gaining wealth and fame he otherwise would have never known…”

“None of this matters!” shouted Santiago as he stood, explosively, from his seat. “I do not need to know the life history of this family! I need only know where they would be holding my wife and daughter! Either tell me what I need to know, or I will find another way to bring them home safe.”

Santiago was all but growling at his uncle by this point, his amber eyes flashing with his anger and frustration…brief hints of the Dragon within him. Luca was not phased in the slightest. He simply looked up at Santiago much the way an exasperated parent looks at a child.

“Santiago. You do not understand,” Luca said in a slightly more soothing tone. “The family that has likely taken your wife and daughter…they are not to be trifled with casually. This is a family who came into their wealth and power half a millennia ago through lies and deceit. Their founding patriarch severed his own claw in order to selfishly save his skin and steal from the people under the guise of a hero. Do not be mistaken, Santiago. They will not hesitate to kill, or worse, to obtain their goal. Now that they have your daughter, they will stop at nothing to keep her.”

“And I will stop at nothing to get my wife and daughter back from them,” Santiago growled, though some of his rage had ebbed after hearing his uncle’s words. “Will you help me?”

“I, personally? No.” Luca’s answer came swift and casual, as if Santiago had asked him to borrow bus fare. “Neither I, nor your cousin Geza, will be able to help you in this matter. At least not in a public sense.”

Santiago only stood there, his fists clenched at his sides and his entire body tense with rage. How could his uncle be so cruel about all of this? First, telling him some long-winded story he didn’t care to hear…and then denying him the help he so desperately needed to save his family. It was all Santiago could manage to keep from sending a right hook to his uncle’s face.

“I will send your cousin Costin with you, while Geza and I aid you from here as best we can,” Luca added as he slowly rose from his seat, coming to stand nearly toe-to-toe with his nephew. “Being that I am the head of the Balaurescu family, and that Geza will one day take my place, neither of us can risk obvious involvement in this. The Visconti family of Milan holds far more power than ours, Santiago, and they would crush us if they felt we were wholly against them. It seems your father neglected teaching you the finer points of Dragon Culture and Politics…”

The way Luca said that last sentence made the hair raise at the nape of Santiago’s neck. He could hear the contempt for his father practically dripping from the words his uncle spoke. True, his father had kept a great deal from him, as Santiago was now realizing, but he had still been a great man who did not deserve such disrespect. He had no words, however. No words that would have been wise to say, that is.

“I suggest you take a day or two in order to rest, heal, and prepare for what comes next,” Luca said. “They will not harm your wife or daughter…that much I know I can assure you.”

“How can you be so sure?!” Santiago demanded, turning away from his uncle in frustration rather than punch him, which was what he really wanted to do. “How can you assure me of their safety when you have just finished telling me how ruthless a family they are being held by?”

Santiago tilted his head back, closed his eyes and attempted to calm himself down. His clenching fists pulsed for a moment before he shook the anger from them and instead ran them both through his short, dark hair in a move of distress. He felt his uncle’s hand rest against his shoulder.

“My boy. Their efforts would be for nothing should any harm befall your daughter or wife right now,” Luca explained in a calm yet firm tone. “The baby needs her mother…and they need the baby. I promise you, the Visconti family will not harm your wife or daughter. You have time to rest and collect yourself.”

The distraught father shook his head, letting his hands fall to his sides once more with a defeated sigh of sadness. He wanted to rush out right this moment to rescue his wife and daughter, not rest and relax for a few days. He felt doing so would be a massive betrayal to his wife and daughter…and he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing. Yet, he also understood that he was in no condition to charge in and mount a rescue. He had just arrived from a long journey, suffered a blow to the head and had gone through some serious emotional trauma. Despite how it tore him apart, he knew that taking at least a day to settle himself was the wisest choice for everyone.

“One day…” Santiago stated, rather flatly. “We wait one day.”

“Understood,” Luca agreed with a slight nod, dropping his hand from Santiago’s shoulder. “I will have someone show you to your room as well as bring you food and clothing. Rest, and I will speak with my sons to arrange all you will need.”

As if on cue, and rather impressively, a meek looking young lass appeared in the doorway of Luca’s study and waited. Santiago found it interesting how many people seemed to serve his uncle’s family. While back home in Ensenada, they only had Manuel and Lucia, here it seemed an entire fleet of servants bustled about here and there. In his short time here, he had already counted at least five.

He gave his uncle a simple nod and then went to follow after the young lass. She guided him in silence back towards the main hall and up that previously ignored staircase. He let his hand glide along the smooth and solid stone bannister as they climbed, marveling at the ages of wear and tear that had smoothed every step and rail to a shine. Beautiful.

The room he was given was simple enough while still providing him all of the creature comforts he could want. A plush bed, a lounging couch with an array of clothes folded and ready for him, table and chairs…even his own bathroom (which, of course, had him wondering about the plumbing situation they had going on). It was as if his mind was grateful for the distraction this nearly ancient home offered him, lapping up every inch of the place with intrigue and curiosity.

His inspection of the walls in his room was interrupted by a knock at his door. He hadn’t even bothered to dress himself yet, still sporting the robe he had been given, but he went and opened the door anyhow to see who had come calling. He expected to see a staff member with a tray of food or drink. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a lovely young woman with the same brown hair and sharp features as Geza and Costin…a knitted baby blanket in her arms.

“Cousin Santiago?” she asked.

“Um, yes?” he responded, confused for a moment before he realized who she was.

“I am your cousin, Sorinah,” she said with a warm yet slightly sad little smile. “May I come in?”

He stepped to the side, gesturing for her to come inside before he followed along himself. He chose to leave the door open, as he had no reason to close it during her unexpected visit. He stood just a few paces from the door and watched as she went to the lounge and draped the blanket she held across its back. A lovely lilac color, with hints of green that he could see.

“I am…very sorry to hear what has happened, Cousin,” she said softly before looking towards him with lovely green eyes. “I was so excited to meet you and your family…I cannot imagine your pain.”

He said nothing in response. He only looked away from her for a moment…nodding as his answer to her words. He appreciated her sympathy, but it still pained him. Silence settled between them and Santiago had no words he felt could fill it. Thankfully, Sorinah did.

“I know my father has only given Costin permission to go with you,” she started, folding her hands gently before her, “but I would like to volunteer as well. I may not have the ability to transform…but I am a formidable fighter nevertheless. May I join you?”

He snapped his eyes back to her with a look of shock across his face. He had not expected her to make such an offer and, to be quite honest, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Sorinah could tell, and she smiled.

“I swear to help you bring your child home, Santiago,” she promised, her smile kind. “Our fathers may not have reconciled their feud, but that is no reason not to help family.”

“Thank you…” he managed to say in return.

He moved towards and then past her, reaching out to pluck the blanket she had brought from the lounge. He could imagine Gabriella’s reaction to it, all smiles and gracious thanks as she would wrap little Isidora up in it tight and safe. His heart ached for the sight of it to be more than just in his mind.

“Father never did tell me what happened between him and Uncle Luca,” he offered, desperately trying to steer this conversation in a direction that didn’t rip his soul apart.

“Oh, well…” she stumbled, taking a moment to realize why he had changed the subject. “Father never gave me the full story, only that uncle Marcel chose to shirk his duty as Eldest son and ran off to the Americas – leaving my father to take up the roll and responsibility when he was only thirteen. He always seemed slightly bitter about the whole thing.”

“I see…” Santiago was surprised to hear what she told him. “I never knew.”

It seemed he still didn’t. Why had his father left in the first place? It had to have been something fairly drastic for his father to have up and left his homeland, leaving his kid-brother behind to pick up the slack. As much as he wanted to know, now wasn’t the time for conversations about the family tree. He sucked it up, turned to face his cousin and gave her the best smile he could manage.

“Thank you, again, Sorinah,” he said, still holding the blanket. “Your help means more than you know.”

“No thanks needed, Cousin,” she said. “Family helps family.”

She smiled at him again, nodded, and left the room, even taking care to close the door gently behind her. Once he was alone, he dropped down to sit on the lounge and let loose a hard and heavy sigh. Rubbing his face into the blanket, he fought back the urge to break down into tears. He needed to get himself right, for the sake of his family, and prepare to go into battle for his daughter. He would raise the flames of hell to bring her home safe if he had to.