Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (36 page)

“To explain it.”

She nodded. “So, while the myths are specific to a place and a people, they have common elements. Maybe we could call them human concerns.”

“There are always gods,” Thorolf guessed.

Chandra nodded. “There is always something or someone greater than humans, something or someone with the power to be unseen or to influence events. These divinities may have control over life and death, or they might influence wherever it is that people’s souls go when the physical body dies. Death, and what happens after it, is always a concern, maybe
the
human concern.” She fell silent, drumming her fingers on his chest. Her touch sent a staccato of desire through him, each tap making him want her more.

Thorolf waited while she chose her words.

She met his gaze and he noted that her eyes were brown this time, brown with a circle of gold around the iris. “In every culture, there is a concept of evil, of some wicked force against humans. In the west, it’s often presented as a dragon. As a result, in every culture, there is an archetypal hero.” She smiled. “A dragon slayer, to defend humans and defeat evil so that peace and justice can reign.”

“And that’s where I come into it?”

“If you’re going to pick a dragon slayer, I think it makes sense to pick one who can fight fire with fire,” she said, her eyes glowing. Her fingertips slid down his chest, creating a burning line of desire. Thorolf guessed her destination when her fingers passed his waist. “I think you should pick the strongest and most resilient of all the candidates, the one who comes from a lineage of noble and principled warriors, the one who carries all the traits of a hero in his heart, mind and body.”

“But I had just been born when you chose me.”

Chandra shook her head. “No, I chose you long before that.”

“How could you know?”

“There was a time when I could see past, present and some of the future. There was a time when I saw the man you would become, even when you were just a gleam in your father’s eye. In the spark of his firestorm, I saw his son, and I knew that you were the one.”

Thorolf winced. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.”

“But it’s true. You are the one. You are the only one who can do this.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then the
Pyr
and the world won’t be saved.”

“And if I fail?”

She shrugged, her gaze holding his steadily. “I don’t think you’ll fail. I chose you, after all.”

He thought of what she’d said and wondered why he’d fought this for so long. It was just a task. If he’d been chosen, it must be one that he could do. And the fact was that loving Chandra made him want to accomplish more with his life.

He wanted her to have a good reason to choose to be with him.

“You said there was a time,” he said, recalling her words. “Does that mean you can’t do it anymore?”

She nodded, a sadness touching her features.

“Why not?”

“It’s time for the gods to leave the mortal world behind forever.”

“But you’re Vanir,” he protested, hating the idea of losing her.

Chandra shook her head. “Not any more.” She smiled. “I decided not to go.”

He stared at her, awed that she would make this choice.

For him.

For the firestorm.

“All eras end, Thorolf.” Chandra tapped a finger on his chest again, the firestorm’s sparks nearly stopping his heart. “Like it or not, it’s up to you to make sure this one ends right.”

And there it was: the responsibility he wouldn’t deny any longer, and the reward of the firestorm. Thorolf knew then, right to his heart and soul, what he had to do.

His father and Chandra had been right all along.

All he had to do was believe in the firestorm and himself.

Chapter Fourteen

Nobody said that succeeding at this challenge would be easy, though. Thorolf exhaled as he thought of all the forms Chen could take. Then there was Jorge, whatever had happened to him, and a host of other candidates for the source of all wickedness in the world. Now that he’d decided to take on the task, he needed a plan.

He could learn from her, planning ahead instead of charging it and dealing with whatever resulted.

He closed his hand over hers. “Which exactly is the monster I’m supposed to slay?”

“All evil draws from one source,” Chandra said. “Strike at the heart and stop it where it begins.”

“I’m going to guess that’s not too easy.”

She smiled. “No challenge worth winning is easy.”

Their gazes locked and held for an electric moment. Did she think he was a challenge worth the fight? Thorolf hoped so.

“We’re in the right place. That’s a good start.” Chandra touched her lips to his, making him groan with desire.

He tried to roll her to her back and deepen the kiss, but she slipped from beneath him. “We could just draw some power from the firestorm,” he suggested.

“No time,” she said and got to her feet. She offered him a hand. “The hunt is already on.”

“Any hints? How will I recognize the root of all evil?”

Chandra bit her lip, drawing his gaze to its ripeness. “I’ll guess that we’ll be working in the myths of your heritage.”

“Ragnorak?”

“It’s already started to snow heavily in much of the world.”

“Fimbulvetr,” Thorolf muttered. “The mighty winter.”

“The moon has devoured the sun.”

“The total eclipse.” Thorolf got to his feet, his determination growing as he recognized the signs.

“Nidhug, the dragon chewing beneath the world tree Yggdrasil, will finally bite through its roots and sever the connection between the natural world and its people.”

“That would be Chen, I’ll guess.”

“There have been tidal waves and earthquakes, which are supposed to foretell the end times.”

“Because Jormungand has been roused from the bottom of the ocean for the battle at the end of the world. He’s thrashing in the seas, making the tidal waves and earthquakes.” Thorolf pushed his hand through his hair as he recalled the rest of the story. He remembered these stories of the end times all too well.

Then he thought about the implications of Chandra’s choice. “Will this make you mortal?” He paused then asked what he really wanted to know. “Does this mean you’ll be able to have my son?”

Chandra’s quick smile making his heart leap. “I know of one good way to find out.” Her eyes sparkled as she considered him. “You’ve convinced me that I’ve kept this vow of chastity long enough.”

Thorolf caught her up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, loving how she gripped his hair in her hands and kissed him back. The firestorm surged through him, driving Chen’s poison from his body and filling him with a silvery fire of purpose.

Chandra broke their kiss but smiled down at him, a sensual promise in her eyes. “Maybe fighting for the chance to satisfy your firestorm is the cause you always needed.”

“No doubt about it,” Thorolf agreed, then he grimaced. “The Midgard Serpent is at the bottom of the sea, right?”

Chandra nodded. “So?”

“This is probably a bad time to admit that I can’t swim.”

She rapped him on the end of the nose with a playful fingertip. “But an excellent time to learn.”

Before he could protest that it wasn’t that simple, she broke from his embrace and marched away with purpose. “You’ll need your sword!” she called over her shoulder.

Thorolf grimaced. “That’s the thing. It’s gone forever.”

Chandra’s backward glance was scornful. “Nothing so powerful is ever gone forever.”

“I don’t need a sword…”

She spun to face him, her expression resolute. “Trust me on this. You do not want to bite this viper, even in dragon form. He’s toxic, through and through. This is
Myth
. This is my turf and I know the rules better than you. Trust me.”

“Okay. I do,” Thorolf said, and meant it.

Chandra folded her arms across her chest and they faced each other toe-to-toe. Even faced with the challenge ahead, Thorolf felt jubilant. They were going to make an incredible team.

“We need the sword,” she reiterated.

“Then let’s find it,” he replied with resolve and seized her hand. “Come on, let’s do this thing already.”

* * *

Marco was late.

He knew it because the darkfire was crackling with new vigor within the quartz crystal, as if impatient for him to finish what had been started. He surrendered his will to the power trapped in the stone, letting it do with him as it would.

There was no fighting darkfire.

It flashed brilliantly, so bright that he closed his eyes against the light. When he opened them, he was in a cavern, one lit by flaming torches that sent dark smoke against the high ceiling. He glimpsed the back of a dragon that could only be Chen, and not that far away. He felt the icy burn of dragonsmoke and knew he couldn’t linger in this place. He was hidden behind a large oval stone, one that seemed to him to have power.

The stone throbbed in his hand, and he understood that it wanted to be broken. He knew the darkfire desired release, and he hesitated only for a second before complying.

This was the destiny of the third crystal.

He cracked the stone in half.

The darkfire leapt toward the oval rock, its blue-green light illuminating its wrinkled surface.

Chen caught his breath and turned just as the light faded away.

But Marco felt a pulse begin within the stone. Maybe it had been there all along, too faint to be discerned, but now it grew in power with every beat. He smelled
Pyr
, as well, a faint scent that he was sure was coming from inside the rock. He had time to run his hands over the stone in awe then the darkfire glittered again and flung him on his way.

He opened his eyes warily to find himself in a bustling market, surrounded by humans. He’d appeared in the shadows of a deserted stall and only a parrot in a cage had taken notice of his arrival.

He’d wait here for whatever happened next.

* * *

“Neither rain nor snow nor dark of night,” Delaney muttered, as he flew through an apparently endless storm with Brandon. The wind was fierce and the seas tossed violently beneath them. The skies were filled with dark clouds, and lightning shot between them at intervals. They’d flown higher to avoid rain and lower to avoid the wind. They’d flown over the ocean and over islands, the lights of human habitation far beneath them.

The good thing was that in this weather, there would be no one to beguile into believing they hadn’t seen dragons overhead. The
Pyr
regularly passed the weight of the sword between them, each taking a break from the burden. It hadn’t seemed heavy at the start, but with each mile, its burden seemed to grow.

The journey had improved after they’d left Brandt’s lair in Australia as then they’d only had the sword to carry. Liz and the boys had remained with Brandt and Kay by previous arrangement. Erik had been clearly exhausted, that it hadn’t taken much to convince him to remain in Australia as another
Pyr
to defend Brandt’s lair.

It had been tougher for Delaney to convince Ginger to remain there, because she didn’t want to miss anything. He and Brandon were making much better time, even though it had to be the foulest weather Delaney had ever seen.

And it kept getting worse.

Delaney wasn’t going to think about Chen calling out the elements to keep the blade from ever reaching Thorolf.

“We’re not exactly the post,” Brandon replied.

“Couriers, then.”

“Special delivery.”

“
Very
special delivery,” Delaney replied and they chuckled together. It helped when they joked back and forth a bit. The conversation took Delaney’s mind off his aching wings.

And his fear that they’d be too late. He scanned the churning seas below, wishing he recognized some island beneath them. Brandon flew confidently, certain of his direction.

“We have to be getting close,” Delaney said.

“Borneo, coming up,” Brandon said. “Pretty much halfway.”

“Finally!”

“Look at the bright side. At least we haven’t had to fight in this weather.” As if Brandon’s words had conjured an opponent, the silhouette of another dragon appeared against the clouds ahead of them.

Delaney caught his breath and inhaled the scent of the approaching
Pyr
. “Sloane,” he said with relief, seeing then the lightning touch the Apothecary’s tourmaline scales.

“And Rafferty,” Brandon agreed. “I can’t see him though.”

“He must be in his salamander form.”

“Excellent.” Brandon grinned. “Something tells me this sword is on its way to wherever Thorolf is.”

* * *

Thorolf’s eyelids fluttered and his skin burned. He grimaced as he opened his eyes, hating that the firestorm was the barest flicker of heat. It was golden, though, as golden as a sunrise, and not completely extinguished.