Kiss of Darkness (The Dragon Legion Novellas) (9 page)

He hurried, shifting shape and flying over the mountains to save time. Even though he didn’t bring the best news, he wanted to be with Petra sooner. His journey had gone as planned and he was striding out of the hills, in human form, by twilight.

Damien was tired and dusty, hungry but ready to see his lady again. Three days away had been too long. He was anticipating an evening before the hearth, savoring Petra’s kisses and her laughter. He didn’t care if there was only dry bread to eat. Her company would be enough. He imagined a long night in bed, of sharing kisses and confessions. He loved how their son was making her figure more full and her features more soft.

They had stopped in a village when Petra became ill with her pregnancy and had lived there several months. It was small but not too small—they could be overlooked in its confines, but also recognized. He and Petra kept to themselves, always paid promptly and in full, and were courteous. Although Damien didn’t like to remain in one place for long, he’d reconciled himself to remaining in this village until his son was born.

But it looked different on this night. To Damien’s astonishment, there was a forest where the village should be. He stopped and stared, doubting the evidence of his eyes. No, the forest had filled the village, for the houses were still there. Damien couldn’t make sense of it. He walked closer, cautious as he tried to determine a reason for the change.

It was quiet, too quiet. He strained his ears but could only hear the crackle of a single fire on a hearth. He knew it was in the courtyard of the house he shared with Petra. There was only stillness, other than the breath of the wind, and the motion he could hear from their home. Petra was there, bustling around as usual, as if in anticipation of his return.

But where had these trees come from? What had happened to the village? There was usually some activity, even until dark.

Damien realized the trees had no branches. They were more like pillars, or trees that had been sawn off at about his height. He had a very bad feeling as he stepped into this strange forest, although he couldn’t have named the reason why.

Then he saw the first face and realized the truth.

They weren’t trees: they were people.

He reached out and touched one, shocked to find the man as cold and hard as stone. It was the farmer who lived beside them. There was his wife next to him, similarly immobilized. Though they couldn’t move, their eyes were filled with accusation. Damien touched another and another, then realized they’d been enchanted and turned to stone.

He thought of the prophecy that had just been given to him and feared for Petra.

He ran to their home, flinging open the door and bursting into the central courtyard.

Petra turned to smile at him in welcome. She was fine, much to his relief, humming as she stirred a pot of stew that was set over the fire. He stood shaking in the doorway but she smiled, as if nothing was wrong at all.

“I thought you would return tonight,” she said easily. “I kept the stew warm for you.” He realized that she was completely different from his mother. There was no demand in her expectation, no need. On another night, he might have been relieved, for his mother had nearly destroyed his father.

On this night, he was cautious.

How could she not know what was outside these walls?

Petra came to him and kissed his cheek, catching his hand in hers and giving it a slight tug. “You must be tired. Come and sit, and tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Have you been out?” Damien demanded, for that could be the only explanation for her calm manner.

“Yes. Why?”

He stopped and stared at her. “Didn’t you see?

She glanced at him quickly, something in her eyes that made him believe she knew exactly what he meant. “See what?”

“All of the village is turned to stone!”

Petra wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yes.” She stirred the stew. “Are you hungry?”

“Wait!” Damien seized her arm, compelling her to face him. “How can you be so indifferent? Do you know something about this? Are you responsible for this in some way?”

Petra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re the only one who isn’t enchanted.”

“I’m the only one who’s pregnant,” she said lightly, her gaze locking with his. “But you’re right: I’m also the only one who is an Earthdaughter.” She said this as if it were perfectly routine, but Damien didn’t know what she meant.

He felt a terrible dread. He remembered his father’s warning, that being bound to a single woman could only lead to sorrow and a loss of powers. He thought of the prophecy he’d just been given, the one that said much the same thing. And he feared that Drake’s summons to serve was offering him an escape just in time.

If that.

“What’s an Earthdaughter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. If she’d turned the villagers to stone, there was no reason she couldn’t do the same to him.

And make the prophecy come true. What of the rest of it? Would it all come true? Damien had tried to dismiss the dire prediction, but now he couldn’t.

“You’re not the only one with powers in this household, Damien.” Petra spoke in a practical tone, as if they discussed the weather. She smiled at him slightly. “I wish I could have found another way to tell you, but in the end, there was no choice.” She shrugged and made to ladle out some stew for him. “It was really only a matter of time before you knew and now you do.”

Damien wanted her to say it aloud. “You did this to them?”

“Yes.” She was unrepentant, which angered Damien as little else could have done.

“How could you do such a thing? And why? There is nothing they could have done to you to merit such treatment...”

“Nothing?” she asked, lifting her chin with a familiar defiance.

“Nothing!” Damien replied. “Don’t you think I deserved to know about your powers before we conceived my son?”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “I didn’t know about all of your powers before that happy deed was done.”

“It’s not the same!”

“It’s exactly the same. You’re more than human and so am I. Frankly, I thought that we’d understand each other as a result.”

“No!” Damien paced the central courtyard of the house. “This is all wrong.” He paced the courtyard, then pivoted to face her. “You might as well know. I have to leave and I might not be back.”

Petra looked shaken. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been called to duty.” Damien didn’t feel as much regret as he had just moments ago. He knew that Petra saw the truth in his eyes. “I have to go.”

Her lips set. “And when will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” He swallowed then said it. “Maybe never.”

She held his gaze for a long potent moment, then spun away. “You’re just fabricating an excuse, because you’re afraid of what I can do.”

Damien didn’t know what to say to that, but Petra didn’t give him much time to think.

“Did you get your prophecy, at least?” she asked.

Damien took a deep breath and recited the oracle’s pronouncement:

A lost child mourned for many years

A mother who will shed no tears

A dragon warrior turned to stone

A woman abandoned, all alone.

Firestorm’s promise will fade to naught

Until stone and fire pay death’s cost.

After a
Pyr
sacrifice is made

Destiny’s promise can be claimed.

“Cheerful,” Petra said tightly. Her displeasure was a palpable force. “So, you’re leaving, because I obviously am the person who can turn you to stone and your son isn’t going to survive anyway.”

“I don’t want it to be true, Petra.”

She gave him a hot look. “Then you could ask some questions. You could try to find the hidden truth of the prophecy. They often have double meanings, as I’m sure you know.”

“No,” Damien said, shaking his head. “No. This time, the prophecy is as clear as can be. I’m sorry, Petra. I wanted to believe in the firestorm.”

“Not enough to fight for it,” she replied, her tone hard.

He knew she was right. He also knew that given his upbringing and his father’s end, the prophecy and his call to duty, that there was no other answer. He’d been honest with her, but felt she’d deceived him. Repairing the damage would take time, time they didn’t have, and a sacrifice he was unwilling to make.

Their gazes locked and held for a charged moment, and Damien noted the slightly rounding of Petra’s belly with the child. He couldn’t believe that she would lose their son, not when she looked so healthy in her pregnancy, but he couldn’t accept what she had done. If he remained with her, even for one night, it would be an endorsement of her deed.

“What will you do?” he asked.

She shrugged, pretending to be indifferent when he knew she wasn’t. “I can’t imagine you care.” Her tone was hurt and he felt guilt at his role in that.

“I do.”

She turned away then took the pot off the tripod over the fire. He’d never seen her cry and that convinced him that she was the mother of the prophecy.

“I’ll go to the Mothers if I need to,” she said, surprising him. He’d never heard her refer to a home or a family.

“But the prophecy...”

She turned on him, her eyes blazing, and he took a step back at the sign of her anger. She seemed to be more than a woman in this moment, and he was sure he felt the ground quaking beneath his feet.

What was an Earthdaughter?

“I don’t believe your prophecy,” Petra declared. “I refuse to believe that my son is as good as dead just because some woman in a grotto uttered a verse.” She jabbed her finger at her own chest. “I will believe in his safe arrival. I will believe in his good health. And I will do everything in my power to give him exactly what he needs.”

Damien might have been chastened, but those people turned to stone just steps away couldn’t be forgotten. Petra’s stern tone and his uncertainty about her powers made him fear the mother of his child. “I don’t think I want to know what ‘everything in your power’ might mean.”

She smiled coolly. “No, you’re just a dragon. Run away,
Pyr
warrior, if that’s so much easier than trusting in me.”

Damien was offended. “It’s not easy to trust someone with hidden powers...”

“And it’s not easy to believe in love. I thought you were more than a man, not less than one, but you’re afraid.” Petra straightened and glared at him, her expression filled with challenge.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then stay and see what I am.” Her eyes were bright with challenge and there was a rosy glow surrounding her body. Damien wanted to stay and see her truth, just to prove her expectation wrong.

But when the ground rumbled beneath his feet, he shifted shape intuitively, taking flight in his dragon form. He hovered in the courtyard, but Petra stopped her humming and shook her head. She spat on the ground beneath him, her disgust clear. “Run away, dragon. I’ll wait for a man bold enough to love me.”

Damien knew he could have melted Petra’s resistance with a touch, but he didn’t want to reconcile. The idea that he could be mated with the woman who would destroy him was too real a possibility for him to try to stay. He’d watched his father’s powers ebb away to nothing, leaving him a shell of a dragon. And there hadn’t been a prophecy. He’d never be able to sleep again in Petra’s presence.

He gave her one last look, yearning for what he had believed to be true of her, then flew high in the sky. He flew over the strange frozen company of villagers with a horror that told him he was right, then beat his wings hard to ascend over the hills.

He’d always said he’d never fall in love. He’d always said he’d never surrender his future to one woman. He’d fulfilled his firestorm and very nearly succumbed, but had escaped the consequences in time. Damien told himself that he had done the right thing, that his son couldn’t be saved, that the oracle was right.

But Petra’s disgust echoed in his ears and his heart.

Little did he know then that it always would.

Damien came to a breathless halt in the endless forest of the underworld. He was panting and winded, feeling an exhaustion that wasn’t characteristic of him. He looked down at the wound on his leg and his leg was turning black. His toes were numb. The rest of his skin was becoming pale.

Petra was right. Time was running out.

He spun to examine the grey trees. They were just trees now, trees without human faces or captives, and he wondered if his eyes had deceived him.