The Dragon Legion Collection 9 (3 page)

Teasing Damien about his succession of romantic conquests was a familiar ploy used by them all to defuse a tight situation. Alexander was certain that the joking of more than one of the men—particularly the younger ones—was tinged with both jealousy and respect. Damien was nearly legendary for his successes with women.

“We should challenge him to make a conquest wherever the stone takes us, without being left behind,” Iggy said.

Damien snorted. “No woman could be worth that risk.”

They were all trying to make light of their situation, but Alexander could smell their fear and uncertainty.

All twelve of them were present and accounted for. Alexander refused to think of them as survivors. The important thing was that the light was flickering more quickly. He doubted he was the only one afraid to breathe.

“We need a new name,” Alexander said, hoping to distract his companions from their situation and the fear it created in them.

“The Survivors,” Ty suggested.

“The Last
Pyr
Standing,” Iggy replied.

“Careful what ideas you put into the world,” Peter advised grimly. “There might only be one of us left at the end.”

They collectively stifled a shudder. “The Dragon Legion,” Alexander suggested and felt them consider it.

“A Roman legion had more than three thousand warriors,” Damien noted.

“We are older than the Roman legions,” Drake said tightly. “And we are the best of the best. The last of an elite corps, tested by the challenge of men and of magic.”

The men nodded, and Alexander liked how Drake’s assertion made them stand straighter.

“The Dragon Legion it shall be,” Drake said with authority.

The light flared brighter and pulsed more quickly, silencing them all.

Thaddeus swore softly under his breath, then began to pray. Thad was both the most likely to find a practical solution to a problem and the most likely to invoke divine assistance. Alexander wondered, not for the first time, whether the combination was responsible for his consistent success.

“Any chance we can control it?” Orion asked. Orion preferred to take action, and was inclined to be impulsive and outspoken. “Maybe direct ourselves back to the others?”

Drake shook his head. “Any key lies in understanding what the darkfire is doing.”

“And maybe why,” Alexander added.

“It’s a primal force,” Peter complained. “It has no logic or reason.”

“Then maybe we should toss it away,” Orion suggested. “We could set ourselves free of its power.”

“And be trapped wherever it left us,” Ashe retorted. “Where are we even now?”

No one knew the answer to that.

“It is our responsibility to bear the darkfire crystal!” Drake said, his tone imperious. “That we do not know the detail of our mission is no reason to abandon it.”

“How do we know it
is
a mission?” Peter asked, and Alexander wished the other man would leave it be. Sowing dissent never aided a cause or a company of warriors.

The light flashed with sudden brilliance, and Alexander gritted his teeth as he was momentarily blinded. He felt the shift in the air around him and guessed it was happening again. Thad swore once more, then prayed with greater fervor.

Abruptly Alexander was swept up by a warm wind, one that swirled around him with savage force. As had happened three other times, he was filled with terror at his powerlessness. He reached out and snatched at Thad, who had been beside him, but his hand closed on empty air. He didn’t dare to breathe, for he didn’t know what surrounded him. It seemed that he was swept in a whirlwind and buffeted by changing winds for an eternity. He couldn’t hear or sense the others and the sense of solitude was even more frightening than having no control.

Just when Alexander was certain he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he was flung downward. He felt discarded by some superior force, though he shared Peter’s doubt that there was intelligence behind the mystery of the darkfire. He landed with a thud on his hands and knees, then greedily took a gulp of hot, dry air. He knew he’d have bruises on his knees, but the dirt beneath his hands was sandy and arid, with no vegetation. He opened his eyes warily, then quickly counted his companions.

Still twelve. They’d mastered that detail, at least.

Then Alexander glanced around to see where they were. He couldn’t believe that he recognized the hills.

“Merciful Zeus,” he whispered, easing to his feet to stare.

“Zeus is anything but merciful,” Drake muttered, but Alexander ignored him.

It couldn’t be.

He knew this village, knew it as surely as he knew the lines on his own palm. He knew the hills of Boeotia, the curve of the road, the fact that that the sea was just beyond the lip of that hill. He knew the village spread at his feet, the names of the occupants of each house, that a potter’s wheel stood in the courtyard of the one house that drew his eye.

Home!

Maybe there
was
intelligence guiding the sorcery of the darkfire crystal. Alexander had yearned to return to this place almost since his departure, all those years before, and here it was before his very eyes.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, but the sight before him didn’t change.

“We’re home,” Alexander said with awe, gesturing to the village. His voice rose higher in jubilation and his heart clenched with unexpected joy. Katina would be here! “We’re home!”

The rest of the men turned to look and Alexander saw wonder dawn in their expressions.

“It can’t be,” Iggy whispered.

“We should find out,” Orion declared.

Peter, predictably, was the first to doubt his eyes. “It must be a trick...”

Alexander didn’t care. He wasn’t waiting for any of them. This was his village. If he was home, there was only one detail of importance.

Katina.

His heart thundered at the prospect of the reunion they would share. Their marriage had always been passionate, even after the spark of the firestorm had been satisfied.

Alexander started down the hill with purpose.

“Halt!” Drake shouted from behind him.

“I must know!” Alexander spun to declare with heat. “I must see her, regardless of the price. She’s my destined mate. We had a firestorm!”

“We mustn’t break rank!” Drake insisted. “It could be a trick, or a lure. I don’t want to lose another man, especially not my second in command.”

“Are you even sure she’s there?” Peter demanded. “Who knows how long we’ve been gone. She could have left.”

Alexander took a deep breath, focusing his attention on the house he knew so well. He inhaled slowly, dissecting and identifying the scents that were common to any village. When he identified his wife’s particular scent, the intoxicating mix of perfume and fired clay and her own body’s scent, his heart leapt. “She’s here!”

“No. I forbid you to break rank,” Drake commanded, his tone making Alexander pause. “All of you! Pledge!”

Drake put out his right hand, his fingers clenched in a fist and his palm down.

“The Dragon Legion stays together,” Damien said, placing his hand on top of Drake’s. The others followed suit, except for Alexander. He stood a dozen paces away and he felt a muscle tick in his jaw.

Everything he had ever desired was in that village.

He had left once to serve with his own kind.

Wasn’t his duty fulfilled?

“Together,” Drake repeated with force and Alexander felt his leader’s gaze upon him.

“I have served my obligation as a
Pyr
,” Alexander said with resolve. He held Drake’s gaze. “I left my wife and my destined mate to heed your summons, as I had pledged to do.” Alexander swallowed. “Don’t ask me to do as much again, I beg of you.”

Drake’s lips tightened even as his gaze filled with understanding.

“Maybe this is why we’re here,” Alexander suggested. “Maybe the crystal is letting us repair the wounds of the past. Maybe that’s the point.”

The others caught their breath and looked at Drake.

“No. You can’t know that,” Drake argued. “You can’t know what you’ll find in that village...”

“That’s why I have to go.”

The two men stared at each other.

Drake was the first to blink. “Go,” he commanded quietly. “But hurry back to tell us what you’ve found.”

Alexander laughed. He saluted Drake, then marched down the hill to the village.

“We will wait,” Drake called after him, his tone level.

This was a gift Alexander hadn’t anticipated. He surveyed the village, taking satisfaction in how similar it was to his memories. He found himself striding closer, anxious to be reunited with Katina again.

He hadn’t taken a dozen steps when Alexander smelled the stone heating again. He paused to glance back. He saw the dread in Drake’s expression as he opened his hand to display the stone. His commander’s features were illuminated by the flashing light of the darkfire crystal.

“Not again!” Peter said.

“Alexander!” Orion cried. “Come here!”

A new fear seized Alexander, a fear that this chance would be stolen from him forever. Maybe that was the trick of the stone. Maybe it would tantalize him with a possibility, then steal it away.

He wouldn’t be cheated. He had to see Katina, no matter what the price.

Alexander pivoted and ran down the hill, racing toward the village as quickly as he could. He had to be far enough away from the crystal to escape its pull.

He had to be left behind.

He heard his companions cry out, shouts of protest that had no hold over him. He felt rather than saw the bright light of the stone, as brilliant as an explosion behind him.

Alexander halted at the edge of the village and looked back, his chest heaving. He saw only a fading blue-green flash of light and no soldiers. His companions had disappeared, as surely as if they had never been.

Drake and the others were gone.

Alexander was shaken by his sense of solitude.

He was alone, for the first time in years. Only when it was too late did he realize how much he had come to rely upon the counsel and company of the other Dragon’s Tooth Warriors. They had shared the same strange experiences and understood each other. That camaraderie would no longer be part of his life.

Even though he’d achieved his purpose, Alexander was momentarily terrified. What if he was wrong? What if he’d sacrificed everything for nothing? What if he truly was lost from everyone and everything he’d ever known?

No. He checked his wild thoughts. Terror achieved nothing. Alexander exhaled and calmed himself. He’d made his choice, and now he’d make the most of his fate, whatever it was.

Katina held his fate in her hands.

* * *

Your future lies in fire and earth;

The world’s in the son you birth.

The words of the Pythian oracle had echoed in Katina’s thoughts for almost nine years and still the prophecy made no sense to her. She couldn’t help feeling that she must have missed the point, because she certainly wasn’t happy.

Just as her parents had anticipated.

When she’d been refused as an offering at the Korykian Cave of the Nymphs, the Pythia at Delphi had provided the enigmatic verse as explanation. Katina had believed the greater purpose served when she met Alexander in the temple of Apollo where the Pythia sat. Their passion had been immediate and their marriage quick. Her parents had been relieved. After she bore Alexander’s son, he had been the one to suggest she should learn the trade of a potter, to fulfill the rest of the prophecy. She remembered how her life had seemed to be filled with promise.

But Alexander had left soon afterward, never to return, and now her son was gone, too.

And it was an inescapable fact that she was a failure as a potter. After eight years of relentless practice, her pots were still the ugliest to be found. The prophecy had to be a test of her persistence.

Katina both dreaded and yearned for days like this one, when she remembered every detail of her time with Alexander with perfect clarity. She was tormented by her memories of him—her first glimpse of him at Delphi and the magical sparks that had lit the air between them. She’d have noticed him even without the extra illumination, for he was so tall and dark and strong. So handsome. The strange fumes in the oracle’s grotto had made their first meeting powerful and memorable, but Katina believed they would have found each other somewhere and sometime. No matter where or when, that first glimpse would have been unforgettable.

Those wonderful memories stood in stark contrast to her present reality.

No wonder he haunted her.

Katina turned the simple gold ring on her finger, the one set with a single cabochon carnelian. She’d never taken it off, not since Alexander had placed it on her finger. She knew Cetos wasn’t happy about that—she also wore the much wider golden ring he’d given her, but didn’t remove the carnelian. The russet stone gleamed in the gold setting, making her think of the fire and clay of her pottery.