Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

Lucyan chuckled. “That was before I talked to the dragon god myself.”

Tariana’s eyes went wide as he told her about his visits with the false oracle and the dragon god. “I would be inclined to outright dismiss your story if you weren’t the one telling it,” she said when he finished. “But as you are the most cynical of us all, I believe you. If the oracle is an imposter, and if Dareena and her babe are in mortal danger, then of course you must go.”

“Yes, but while I’m here,” Lucyan said, sliding his arms underneath Tariana, “why don’t we get you outside so you can heal and shift before I go?”

Tariana nodded. Quickly, Lucyan put his disguise charm back on, then swaddled Tariana in her cloak and carried her down the stairs with her clothes in hand. He received a strange look from one of the guests on his way down, but thankfully no one else saw them. Fast as he could manage, he brought Tariana to a copse of trees just outside the town, then deposited her on the ground so she could change. The air shimmered around Tariana, heating up with dragon fire as her form blurred, stretching and elongating into a magnificent beast with red-gold scales and long spikes jutting from the top of her head and all along her spine.

Lucyan couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy as his sister stretched her long, sinuous form—he wished he could shift, and wondered how long it would take for that instinct to kick in. It had happened for Drystan…had his brother attempted it since that day? With all that had been going on, likely not.

Tariana let out a low rumble, then nuzzled her snout against Lucyan’s chest in farewell. “Safe flight, sister,” he said, stroking her warm, smooth hide, and a surge of affection swelled his heart. “Tell Drystan I said hello.”

Tariana nodded, then backed away to give herself room. With a single flex of her powerful haunches, she launched herself high into the air, then pumped hard with her wings to propel herself above the clouds.

Lucyan bent down to pick up the amulet she’d left on the ground as he watched her go. The headache that squeezed at his temples disappeared the moment he put it back on.

Alistair must feel a hundred times worse, Lucyan thought grimly as he headed back to the inn. He needed to convince the tinkerer to pick up the pace, for he had a feeling that if they delayed much longer, he would be too late to save his brother and their mate.





18





On the fourth day of Dareena’s “stay” in Castle Whitestone, the guards finally gave her leave to walk about the castle and grounds. Since they considered her helpless and weak, they did not require her to have an escort, though they did forbid her from going anywhere near the dungeons to visit Alistair.

This last bit infuriated Dareena, as she was certain that a visit would do him some good. Even holding his hand for an hour a day would alleviate some of his sickness, but the guards refused to hear of it, and Arolas had left the castle, so she could not appeal to him. She tried the king as well, but he would not see her—apparently, he was too busy taking care of state matters to entertain her for even a few moments.

Frustrated, Dareena went to the one place that might offer answers—the library. Much of the tomes were inscribed with elven runes, impossible for her to read, but after careful searching, she managed to unearth a slim tome written in the common alphabet that turned out to be a primer on elven runes. She spent the next day teaching herself to decipher the symbols, and slowly, painstakingly went through other tomes, hoping to find another primer that could teach her the basics of elven magic.

Eventually, she came across a manuscript titled Magic for Beginners, which turned out to be exactly what she was looking for. She learned that elven magic best functioned in Elvenhame itself but worked reasonably well outside the country, though it took longer to gather the amount of life force needed to cast spells. As Basilla had explained, there were many sources from which to draw energy, and each elf tended to draw from some sources better than others. The author warned against the dangers of taking too much from any one plant or animal unless the circumstances were dire, as doing so could kill it.

“Hmm,” Dareena said aloud, pondering this concept. Was it possible to use this aspect of elven magic as a weapon? Could she kill someone if she was able to drain their energy? Of course, she would have to do it quickly, or they would fight back, and Dareena wasn’t sure she was capable of it since her elven blood was so diluted. But surely elves had done this sort of thing in the past. She couldn’t imagine at least one of them hadn’t tried.

“Lady Dareena?” a familiar voice asked, startling Dareena. She looked up from the manuscript to see Princess Basilla standing a few feet away, a puzzled look on her lovely face. “What are you doing down here?”

“Oh, just a bit of light reading.” Dareena closed the book and laid it face down. “I’ve no one to talk to, and things have gotten awfully boring.”

“You could have come to seek me out,” Basilla said, taking a seat next to Dareena. “The guards told me they saw you come down this way, but I confess I didn’t believe them at first. I had no idea you could read—Arolas said you were a commoner.”

“I am, but I had to learn to read as part of my job,” Dareena said. “I was the assistant to an innkeeper and helped him with his books and such.”

“Really?” Basilla seemed fascinated by that. “Did you ever imagine your life would take such a drastic turn?”

Dareena laughed. “Certainly not,” she said, looking around. “The last thing I expected was to become the Dragon’s Gift, never mind being carted off to the elven kingdom and held as ransom.”

Basilla flinched guiltily. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way,” she lamented. “You and your mates are not responsible for what King Dragomir has done. And yet, I understand my father’s position as well. This war has cost us precious time and resources, and our people never laid a finger on your predecessor. We deserve reparations for what we have suffered.”

“I agree with you,” Dareena said, “but I do not agree that Alistair should be forced to waste away in the dungeons, sick and in pain because of this awful anti-dragon spell. Please, Basilla,” she said, grabbing the princess’s hand, “you must help me get him out of there. If Alistair should die, there will be no peace between our peoples.”

A troubled look crossed Basilla’s face. “Do you really think he will die down there?” she asked.