The Dragon Legion Collection 9 (17 page)

“But how would it know?” Peter demanded.

“The firestorm,” Drake murmured, and the other men looked at him.

Orion frowned. “You mean that the darkfire crystal took us to Alexander’s village, precisely so he could be reunited with Katina?”

Thad nodded with enthusiasm. “It makes sense! Darkfire doesn’t have to be irrational. It’s disruptive and it’s unpredictable, if you don’t understand what it’s doing or why, but mostly, I think it makes unlikely things happen.” He nodded at the others. “And it’s linked to us. It’s a force associated with the
Pyr
. Why wouldn’t it enable the firestorm?”

“So, it sent Alexander back in time more than two thousand years to be with his wife and son,” Ashe said thoughtfully.

“So he could keep his duty to defend his mate and son,” Iggy agreed. “Makes sense to me.”

“If they’re there,” Peter said. “If she still wants him.”

Another beat of silence passed. “That’s all well and good,” Orion said, pacing around the group with his usual impatience. “But what can we do? How can we guide it? How can we guess where we are and why, or control where we go next?”

“Who else has had a firestorm?” Ty asked. “If Thad is right, the crystal will take us back to the mate.”

Excitement now passed through the small company, along with a sense of possibility that Damien didn’t share. He knew that Petra was dead. If Thad was right, he was going to end up alone with the crystal, which wasn’t an enticing possibility.

The more implausible possibility was even less enticing. Damien shivered.

“I left a wife and son,” Drake admitted, his words soft. “Theo was a little older than Alexander’s son and Cassandra...” His voice faded and he stared into the distance.

“I don’t think you should tease yourselves,” Damien interjected, knowing he had to say something.

“Why not?” Iggy demanded.

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Orion said.

“Because now one of you is thinking that your destined mate must be here,” Damien said, his tone harder than usual. “And each of you who hasn’t had a firestorm is going to want to break rank, no matter where we end up. You don’t know what the darkfire crystal is planning, if it’s planning anything. You could end up doing something stupid.”

Peter gave him a hard look. “Did you have a firestorm?”

“Yes,” Damien admitted, noting their surprise. “And no power is ever going to take us to where she is.”

Ty nudged Iggy. “We’re right. He doesn’t have a heart because he already gave it away.”

“You don’t know anything about it!” Damien snapped, and the rare glimpse of his temper silenced the two of them.

Orion caught his breath suddenly, drawing the attention of his fellows. He lifted his hand and his eyes widened as fire began to glow around his fingertips. The flames grew, becoming a dancing halo of flame.

“Great Wyvern,” Orion whispered in awe. “So this is what it feels like.”

Damien got to his feet, knowing what he was witnessing. Sure enough, a woman had come into the square and was knocking on the door that the older women had unlocked. Her hair was dark and long, and he guessed she was in her mid-twenties. Her shoes were flat and her skirt short, her legs perfect.

A spark exploded from Orion’s fingertip and arched through the air toward her. An answering spark rose from the woman, and the two sparks collided in a brilliant burst of yellow light over top of the fountain.

She turned to look, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“She’s the one,” Orion said and began to march across the square. Damien watched with mixed feelings: he was glad that his friend was experiencing his firestorm, but hoped Orion’s ended better than his own firestorm had.

Even given his experience, though, Damien wouldn’t have missed his firestorm—and knowing Petra—for the world.

“You were right,” Iggy whispered to Thad, whose mouth was open in surprise.

“Not again,” Drake muttered.

Damien turned to see the blue-green light beginning to pulse in the center of the darkfire crystal.

“Run!” Ty shouted and Orion did, bolting across the square, drawn to the woman who could bear his son by the heat of the firestorm. Damien saw her smile at Orion, then the darkfire became a blindingly brilliant flash.

Once again, they were tossed through the air and lashed by a vicious wind. Finally, Damien was cast to the ground and grunted at the force of the impact.

The darkfire faded to nothing, leaving the air as dark as pitch. It was still, wherever he had landed, and it was cold.

As cold as the grave.

Damien got to his feet, sure that his guess had to be wrong. His heart was pounding, even as he saw the deadened trees, the starless sky, the inky black river that separated them from a land filled with shadows. His heart felt heavy in this place, burdened by sorrow as it seldom was, even though his fellow warriors still surrounded him.

Petra had to be here.

Damien knew he’d made the right choice in leaving her, knew there was no point in dwelling on the past, knew there certainly was no chance of changing what he’d done. There had been the prophecy. It had all been so clear.

Why had the darkfire brought him here? He and Petra had no future... Damien had no sooner wondered than the answer became clear to him. The darkfire was giving him a chance to save his son.

It made perfect sense. It wasn’t their son’s fault that he and Petra hadn’t remained together. His son was
Pyr
, like Damien, and deserved a dragon’s education. The
Pyr
could use another dragon warrior in their corps. The firestorm, Damien was certain, had brought him to the underworld to retrieve his son.

Which meant it must be possible.

As Damien watched, a flat boat left the far shore. The hooded ferryman pushed his pole into the river, guiding his boat toward them. There was only darkness within the shadows of his hood and his fingers gleamed because they were bare bones.

“Charon,” he whispered, without intending to do so. Despite himself, Damien scanned the distant bank, seeking a glimpse of Petra. She’d been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—when she was alive. What did she look like now? How would he feel when he saw her? Just the possibility made him want to know for sure.

He doubted she’d surrender their son easily. Petra had always been stubborn.

But she was a mother. Surely she would sacrifice her own desires for her son’s welfare?

Damien didn’t know what to expect from her. He eyed the cold dead land on the other side of the river and remembered Petra’s passionate nature. He could doubt, but he guessed the darkfire would continue to bring him to this place until he accepted the opportunity it offered.

With that, Damien’s decision was made.

A dog began to bark then and was joined by the barking of two others. Damien narrowed his eyes to see the three-headed dog Cerberus on the far shore, its teeth white and sharp as it barked before a pair of gates.

“We’re in the realm of Hades,” Peter whispered in horror from behind him.

“All seven of us,” Drake said.

“That’ll be six, now,” Damien said, taking a step toward the shore. “This would be my stop.” He reached into his pocket, glad to find that he had two coins for the ferryman, and looked across the river. As he stepped closer to the shore, the dead who lacked the fare for the ferryman milled around him. They were no more substantial than a dark mist, but he shivered at the press of them on every side.

He still had a few moments to figure out how to get past Cerberus.

Never mind how to leave Hades alive.

Petra would be another challenge altogether. His son would certainly be with her, a babe in arms who wouldn’t be easily surrendered. Petra was loyal to those she loved, and a part of Damien regretted losing that distinction.

To his surprise, he felt a flicker of anticipation and a quickening of his pulse as the ferry drew closer. It made no sense. He knew what Petra was. He knew she’d been only an interlude in his life, a connection that couldn’t be sustained. The firestorm had brought them together to ensure his son’s conception, no more than that. He couldn’t be looking forward to seeing Petra again.

He was thrilled by the chance to save his son, no more than that.

As soon as Damien had stepped onto Charon’s vessel, he felt the flash of the darkfire. He glanced back at its brilliant light, then it faded to nothing.

The other Dragon Legion Warriors were gone.

He swallowed and paid the ferryman, knowing the way forward was the only possible way out. He still had a few moments to figure out how to get past Cerberus.

Never mind how to leave Hades alive.

* * *

Boredom was the worst part of being dead, as far as Petra was concerned. The underworld was locked in twilight, perpetually on the cusp of evening. It always felt like the middle of winter, although there were no seasons. The trees were stark and barren, the air was damp and chilly. The shadows stayed the same depth and darkness and hue. The underworld was colorless and devoid of sensation. Every single moment was identical to its follower and its predecessor. She and all the dead were frozen in time—yet Petra was trapped in the most awkward state of her life.

She was at the full term of her pregnancy.

On the one hand, it was a consolation that her son hadn’t been abandoned in the world of the living as an infant. With Damien gone and her family far away, there would have been no one to care for him in her absence. On the other hand, it was devastating to her that he had never taken his first breath. She’d never seen the son that she and Damien had conceived, never held him, never named him. She carried a reminder of everything she had lost and couldn’t forget whose fault it was.

She cursed Damien regularly—for his charm, his good looks, his heart of ice.

If his heart had been made of stone, their partnership might have had a chance.

Petra’s state might have been uncomfortable, if she’d still felt her body. In this realm, she was numb, or even less aware of sensation than that. The dead had no appetites, no occasions, no celebrations, no work, no craft. They had no purpose, no pain, no sorrow and no joy. She alone was restless and impatient among the dead. She alone yearned for novelty, for a quest, and yes, for vengeance.

But then, Petra had always been different. She was used to the sense that she didn’t fit in. The difference was that she’d once had hope that she’d find a partner, that the old saying of her kind would be fulfilled and she’d have a companion forever.

She’d been so sure that partner was Damien.

She’d been so wrong about him.

A strange blue-green spark lit at her feet with sudden brilliance, then disappeared as if it had never been. She wondered whether she’d imagined it, because it was both unlike anything she’d seen before and unlike everything else in the underworld.

Was this a delusion?

Would it be better or worse to be insane as well as dead?

Petra refused to think about that. She searched for the spark and was delighted when it glimmered at her feet again.

This time, it reminded her of a similar spark, one of brilliant yellow that had set her heart afire and changed her life forever.

The spark of the firestorm had launched all of her woes.

When the blue-green spark appeared a third time, Petra pushed the firestorm from her thoughts. It wasn’t relevant anymore. Damien had abandoned her and was never coming back. She was trapped in the underworld forevermore. The novelty of the spark was just a welcome distraction.

The spark disappeared, then lit again a dozen steps away.

The pattern repeated, a fifth light appearing briefly beyond the fourth.

Petra decided it was an invitation and followed it.

She waited where the last light had shone, impatient in her anticipation. When the next blue-green spark appeared, Petra followed the trail. She was intrigued by the way the spark seemed to wait for her, the next illumination occurring once she’d reached the last indicated point.

This was the most interesting thing that had happened since her arrival here.

It was the
only
interesting thing that had happened since then.

She couldn’t help remembering the hot spark of the firestorm. She could see again the glow of it in that tavern, the way light had danced between her and the most handsome man in the place. A stranger. She remembered how she had blushed and how he had smiled. She remembered how he hadn’t looked away, how he hadn’t been afraid of her, and her strange conviction that he was the one. She remembered how well she’d sung that night, how sinuously she’d danced, because she’d been performing for him alone. She could recall the heat of desire that had filled her when the firestorm had flared, her sense of the inevitability of their partnership. She would have done anything for Damien—and in fact, she had done a great deal.

Not that he’d appreciated any of it. Petra’s hand fell protectively to the ripe curve of her belly.

She wouldn’t think about his rejection.