Dragon Fire (25 page)

His hand pressed against her lower back and molded her body into his. His raw passion ignited hers. She tore at his shirt until she could feel his burning flesh under her hands.

“Time to dance,” said Red, punching Pemba in the arm. “Remember: make me proud.”

Pemba jerked away from Anna. She stood awkwardly, fixing her dress and checking her hair. Red bowed with an elaborate flourish to Ea, inviting her to dance. Ea placed her hand in his and they stepped seamlessly out onto the dance floor.

“Maybe we should get a drink,” Pemba said.

Anna glanced at his shirt where she had felt it rip, but it was impeccable. Had she imagined it?

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“Isn’t your shirt ripped?”

Pemba looked away. “Not any more.”

“Okay. That’s what I thought.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked, his eyes challenging her.

“No.” That he could fix it didn’t bother her. But that she had ripped it in the first place did.

“Dance with me,” he said. He took her hand in his and placed his other one firmly on her shoulder blade.

Anna placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, scared to touch him. He began to guide her out onto the dance floor, but she stumbled and fell against his chest.

“Push against me,” he said, shaking her away from him.

“I don’t know how to salsa.” She dropped her hands and looked away. Red and Ea glided by, their bodies vibrating with an intensity that felt like a drum. She should never have agreed to come.

Pemba took her hand again and guided her back into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Anna shook her head, unable to answer.

“Keep this distance,” he said, his arms taught. “That’s all.”

Anna felt his energy pulsing through her hands, rushing like a river. Her mind-touch slipped forward, mingling with his. And then she felt it. An invisible space, like a flexible ball, pulsed between them, uniting them through its center. Slowly, Pemba began to move forward and she answered, backing up, carefully maintaining the pulsing space. And then he moved away and it was her turn to come forward in a never ending game of give and take. Through the awareness of the space that separated them she could feel his body as if she was pressing against it. She was aware of his every movement as if it was her own. His hand squeezed hers. She felt his energy flare, urging her to come forward or to glide backward in an ever increasing rhythm that brought them together in a spinning vortex of unity. There was no room for any other thought than the pleasure of being together.

* * *

As Rakan guided Anna around the dance floor, he lost all awareness of anything else. There was only Anna. He felt his rök open up and glow with pleasure. Wrong or right, this was where he wanted to be. With Anna. For as long as her life lasted. He dropped her hand and pulled her in close.

A cold wave crashed through Rakan and he shuddered in shock. Dvara. She was in trouble. She was stuck, surrounded by scintillating sparks of vermillion. He was about to shift when he felt Anna stiffen in his arms.

“Pemba? What’s wrong, are you alright?”

The panic in her voice calmed him. “Dawa’s in trouble,” he said. The cold intensified. He didn’t have much time left to help her. “I have to go. You’ll feel me disappear, but I’ll be fine. Stay here with Red.”

Anna nodded, her eyes a mass of unasked questions, but he knew she’d stay put. “I hope she’s okay,” he heard her say quietly as he ran to the empty entryway and shifted to the other side of the fjord.

R
AKAN FOLLOWED DVARA’S TRAIL TO THE
valley where the void-trails lived. He materialized cautiously. Dvara was in mortal danger. She must have gotten into a fight. He looked around expecting to see the void-trails since he hadn’t sensed another dragon, but she was alone. Frozen in the mass of bright red sparks that he had sensed. Her face was distorted in agony, her fingers spread like claws. He edged closer. The vermillion haze crackled and snapped. Her panic washed over him. He fought the urge to throw himself into the shield. He needed to protect himself or he’d be caught too.

He broke off a branch and tossed it next to Dvara’s frozen figure. Nothing happened. He reached forward mentally. Nothing. He let his mind run beyond the spot where Dvara was stuck. Still nothing. As he suspected, the shield wasn’t made of matter. He made an electromagnetic shield like the one he had made when they first faced the twins. When the shield was in place around him, he inched forward. As he advanced, the shield began to register tiny pin pricks. Slowly, he continued forward. The prickling sensation grew stronger. He could see orange sparks. His orange. Rakan felt Dvara’s consciousness slip away. He cursed and lunged forward, but the orange haze grew brighter, stretching into a body-sized shield that blocked him from getting any closer to Dvara. Rakan growled in frustration. The shield was using his energy as its source. If he got any closer, he’d be stuck. The shield would drain him of his energy, like a spider sucking its victim dry.

Rakan took a few steps back. His rök thrashed to get free. He forced himself to calm down and think. The bright orange mass of energy had disappeared when he moved back. He needed to pull Dvara out, but how?

T’eng Sten shifted into place next to Rakan. “Why the hell aren’t you doing anything?” he snarled and leaped towards Dvara.

“Don’t do that,” Rakan yelled. But it was too late. T’eng Sten flashed into a massive haze of indigo suspended in midair. Rakan averted his eyes, momentarily blinded. Now he’d have to save them both.

He looked at the two blazing dragons, wondering how their energy had been transformed into shrouds of light when the shield didn’t react to matter. That was it. Rakan stripped a nearby tree of its bark, mentally twining the fibers into a long rope as fast as he could. He’d pull them out. He mentally maneuvered the rope forward and snaked it around Dvara. The energy crackling around her made it feel like trying to catch a fish with his hands. Finally, he got the rope positioned and pulled.

Nothing. It was like pulling on a huge suction cup. Dvara didn’t budge.

Rakan cursed. The rope slithered to the ground as he dropped the contact. He guided his electromagnetic shield forward. If he could get his shield around Dvara, it would ease the flow of energy that was feeding the vermillion haze and draining her. She didn’t have much time left. His shield wobbled as he battled with the flowing currents. Rakan closed his eyes and tried to visualize the pattern of energy flow. He needed to use the current, not fight it. If he could manage to see it.

Slowly, a pattern began to appear. An odd shape, like a squeezed cone, protruded behind Dvara. If he could get his shield in there, he might be able to place it around Dvara. Her energy was fading. It would have to work. He blocked everything and focused on the flow. He aligned his shield with the currents surrounding Dvara. As the shield got closer, Rakan had to struggle to maintain it in the whirling vortex of energy that surrounded her. He touched Dvara’s back with the electromagnetic shield and flicked it into position around her. The vermillion sparks faded a notch.

Rakan repositioned his rope and dragged her back, inch by painful inch until the quicksand-like energy eased its hold on Dvara, and he was able to yank her out of its insatiable grip.

T’eng Sten’s guards flashed into the valley, followed by a dozen or so other dragons of his Cairn. They crouched, preparing to spring into the shield to rescue their Kairök.

“Stop!” yelled Rakan, struggling to lay the unconscious Dvara on the ground. “I can save him, but I can’t save all of you.”

Kakivak ignored Rakan’s warning and threw himself towards his Kairök.

“No,” yelled Angalaan. She froze Kakivak in midair. There was only the beginning of a violet haze in front of him. “Save T’eng Sten now,” she snarled. “Or I’ll kill you before I die.”

“Care for Dvara,” commanded Rakan to the crouching dragons. He turned to face T’eng Sten in spite of his exhaustion. Rakan worked the rope forward towards the still conscious Kairök. Hoping it would be enough. He wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to work the electromagnetic shield again. T’eng Sten tried to grab the rope, even though he was stuck in place. But his efforts only quickened the flow of energy out of his body.

“Let me help you,” said Angalaan. She put her hand on Rakan’s shoulder. He felt an unexpected tingling as she merged with him. He could feel dozens of fainter sparks of energy through her. The other dragons of T’eng Sten’s Cairn. He felt them. All of them.

She tried to yank T’eng Sten out.
“It’s not working,”
hissed Angalaan through their mind-link.

“No. We need to place an electromagnetic shield around him first.”

“What? Whatever, just do it. We have the rope.”

As with Dvara, Rakan eased the shield into position. But this time it was easier. The other dragons had added their energy to his and allowed Rakan to guide it at will. The outward flow of T’eng Sten’s energy eased off and he came flying out, like a feral tiger released from a cage.

“Dvara,” he yelled. He threw himself on the ground and cradled her still unconscious body in his arms. “Dvara.” It came out like a strangled sob.

Rakan sank to the ground, his head pounding and his rök spinning in a frenzy. It had felt so good, so right, to feel Angalaan and the other twenty-six dragons in T’eng Sten’s Cairn. For the few seconds it had taken to get T’eng Sten out, he hadn’t been alone.

“Well, well,” said Kairök Yttresken, showing up with a dozen guards. “I’m not sure killing Dvara is going to make her any more willing to join you. And it certainly lowers her value as the only female able to breed on Earth at the moment.”

“I would kill you right now if Dvara didn’t need help,” growled T’eng Sten.

“Tsk, tsk, always so dramatic,” drawled Yttresken. “She’ll be fine. In fact, a little suffering might be good for her. Teach her to temper her passions.”

T’eng Sten threw himself at Yttresken. They tumbled over each other as their kais gathered around in a tight semi-circle. Rakan struggled to his feet and flung himself between the two Kairöks. “Enough. Kill each other if you will, but not here. Call off your kais. Both of you. Right now.”

“How dare you tell me what to do, you little runt—” hissed Yttresken. His beady pink eyes narrowed as he lunged for Rakan.

“No. He’s right,” said T’eng Sten, pushing Rakan out of the way. “Earth is still their home until the Meet decides otherwise. And as Yarlung’s offspring who still has his rök, he has every right to protect her domain.”

“Since when do you abide by the Code?” sneered Yttresken.

T’eng Sten spat in Yttresken’s face. “I always abide by the Code. The real Code.”

Yttresken hissed, but didn’t spit back.

“Dvara is mine,” continued T’eng Sten. “You have infringed upon my territory in blatant disregard of the Code. I hereby challenge you to a duel to the death.”

“You truly are a most disagreeable puppy, aren’t you T’eng Sten?” said Yttresken with a wry smile. “You would never have been made a Kairök on the Red Planet.”

T’eng Sten returned the smile. “Given your weakened state, I grant you the privilege of choosing the time and place. Unless you wish to renounce your own claim on Dvara Azura, in which case I would be willing to grant you clemency.”

Yttresken turned to go. “If it amuses you, we can duel. But I would have thought you held your life in higher esteem than to throw it away on a bitch in heat. Who certainly wouldn’t return the favor.”

Rakan flashed in anger and was about to launch himself at Yttresken, but Angalaan blocked him. “It’s not worth it,” she hissed under her breath. “He’s just trying to save face.”

Rakan growled, but Yttresken and his guards were already gone.

As was Dvara.

* * *

T’eng Sten stalked up to Rakan. “Go home. I’ll join you there as soon as I can.” His iron grip closed around Rakan’s bicep. “Stay out of this – it isn’t your fight. It’s mine.” T’eng Sten shifted elsewhere without letting go of Rakan’s arm, leaving him the unpleasant feeling of having been touched by a ghost. Rakan was alone.

Rakan raised a fist to the star-filled sky. “It
is
my fight.” If he hadn’t been distracted by Anna, he would have felt Dvara’s danger before it got out of control. He searched for Dvara’s trail and cursed. The footprints of the dragons shimmered clearly in the moonlit snow, but their trails were so confused that he couldn’t follow them. T’eng Sten had taken the time to scramble them – or one of his dragons had. Rakan verged on the brink of an uncontrolled morph, making the trails even harder to distinguish. But that wouldn’t help Dvara. He took a deep breath. He needed to access his rök’s full power. And to do that, he’d have to let his rök free. Something he had never dared to do before.

He sank to his knees and focused within himself.
Feel, my rök, feel.
His rök fluttered and then energy burst forth like the sun’s first rays piercing the sky. Rakan stood, his rök’s glowing energy humming around him in an orange mass.

The tortured trails stilled and the real ones solidified below the shimmering illusions.