And the fire raged on.
Hadrian felt himself begin to rotate between forms involuntarily and he knew he was dying. It nearly broke his heart for his last view to be the wanton destruction of his life’s work. There were so many things he hadn’t done, including the satisfaction of his own firestorm. He left no legacy: no talons to aid his fellow Pyr, no son, thanks to this Fae attack. He ached for his mate’s lost chance to free her brothers and wondered how many more centuries she’d spend killing Others for Maeve.
He closed his eyes in his dragon form, knowing the next shift would be his last.
Eight
Rania felt an odd tick. For the merest second, it seemed as if everything had frozen, as if time had stopped, as if she was snared in the moment of watching Notus and Argenta embrace. Balthasar seemed to have stopped chewing popcorn. Alasdair was caught in the act of breathing fog and telling his story. There was no sound from the studio.
Then she blinked and all seemed to be normal again.
Hadrian hadn’t warned her that the firestorm would make her lose her mind. She grabbed some popcorn and concentrated on Alasdair’s story.
When the pair in the image broke their kiss, Argenta looked at Notus with awe and love. Rania knew the woman would agree to satisfy the firestorm. The firestorm and Notus were working their persuasive spell, but it was easier to wonder about the end result when she wasn’t snared by its power herself.
She understood how Argenta felt all too clearly.
A key turned audibly in a lock and for a moment Rania wasn’t certain whether it was in the vision or Hadrian’s lair. Balthasar munched popcorn, untroubled as he watched, so she realized it was the vision.
Notus fled as a man who must have been Argenta’s father opened the door to his daughter’s room. A second man loomed behind him, and Rania saw that it was Olaf dressed as a rich nobleman. The father was obviously charmed with Olaf and Rania guessed what he would do before he put Argenta’s hand in that of her new suitor.
“Olaf bought Argenta, paying her father a healthy price in exchange for her hand in marriage,” Alasdair said. “The coin later proved to be counterfeit and there was never a wedding. By that time the father knew he had been tricked, Olaf was gone, leaving no sign of Argenta behind.”
A malachite and silver dragon soared into the sky beyond the village, a maiden in his grasp, as the father discovered the coins were false. The father shouted in rage and ran from the house, even as Argenta called for help, so high above the clouds that no one in the village heard her cries. Rania next saw her secured in Olaf’s lair, deep in the earth, and watched her drop her head to hands and weep.
“Olaf didn’t claim the mate because he couldn’t, thanks to the wound Notus had given him,” Alasdair continued. “And their union wouldn’t have resulted in a son, anyway, since he had turned Slayer. He didn’t compel Argenta to spin because he didn’t care about her powers or about silver—he had more than sufficient riches in his hoard. His sole objective was to deny Notus, and as Notus traveled far and wide, seeking some sign of his lost mate, the tale spread to the other Pyr and Slayers.”
Notus looked for his mate? That surprised Rania. She’d expected him to move on, and to spark another firestorm with someone else.
That clearly wasn’t how it worked.
Rania witnessed a gathering of Pyr and wondered who the other dragons were, and whether any of them were still alive. A majestic ebony and pewter dragon seemed to be in charge, although the gathering was a noisy one. Rania felt their outrage grow and saw their passion rise. She saw more than one breathe a plume of fire into the sky in frustration. Meanwhile, another group of dragons gathered close by, led by an elegant dragon of ruby red and brass. He had similar glorious feathers as Notus and Boreus, but his trailed red behind him. He was obviously eloquent and forceful, too.
Rania watched the two groups convene on a lonely mountain peak. They really made a splendid sight and she had to think that the world would be a little less marvelous once they were eliminated.
“Words were exchanged between Boris Vassily, the leader of the Slayers, and Erik Sorensson, leader of the Pyr, over the abduction of Notus’ mate,” Alasdair said. Rania understood that this red dragon was Boris and the pewter one was Erik. “Both were new to their leadership and not yet as skilled with diplomacy as they would become.” Rania saw the dispute quickly become volatile, with dragons on both sides breathing plumes of fire and slashing their tails through the air. “Erik had lost his father, his mate and son to the influence of Slayers and was disinclined to tolerate their meddling in firestorms. Boris saw the conflict as an opportunity for the Slayers to change the rules and gain greater power. To interfere with a firestorm was an abomination in the Pyr view and soon Pyr and Slayers were bent upon battle. Their sole item of agreement was a mutual declaration of war. They would meet over the south Pacific, where few humans would witness their fight. The year was 1807.”
Two hundred years before. Rania expected that dragons would fight hard, but she was unprepared for the vivid view of the conflict that Alasdair provided. She felt as if she was there, as if she could smell the fire and the blood, and she watched as numerous dragons fought and died. The battles were vicious and brutal. She saw two dragons spiral out of the distance and target each other, one malachite and silver, the other amber and gold with trailing feathers. They locked claws with such force as they collided that they spun in the air. She saw them taunting each other.
“The most anticipated fight was that between Notus and Olaf, since it had been the reason for the war in the first place,” Alasdair said as the other Pyr and Slayers halted their battles and gathered closer to watch. “By the time Notus located Olaf, the Slayer had been injured.”
Rania saw the slash in Olaf’s side, the one that dripped black blood. She also noticed that Notus was missing a scale on his mailed chest, right over his heart. Notus struck Olaf hard with his tail then flung the Slayer from his grasp. Olaf made a sharp turn and came raging back, wings pounding the air as he raced toward Notus. He slashed with his talons and breathed fire with such ferocity that it was clear only one dragon shifter would leave the fight alive.
The battle was harsh and merciless. Notus was bleeding from many wounds when he finally tore Olaf’s chest open with his teeth and spat the chunk into the sea. Olaf’s flight faltered, a hint of the magnitude of his injury, but Notus caught him and held him captive.
“It was said that Notus offered Olaf the mercy of a quick death, if only he revealed Argenta’s resting place,” Alasdair said. “Instead, the Slayer laughed, telling Notus that his mate wasn’t dead. She was so well hidden that Notus would never find her in all his days and nights, and Olaf would never confess her location. Notus argued that the firestorm would reveal her location if she was alive, but Olaf insisted that her location meant the firestorm was extinguished. Notus was skeptical but Olaf breathed fire in that moment, just when Notus was leaning close to catch every word, and the Pyr’s face was disfigured forever by the fire. They fought again, even more savagely, and Notus tore off Olaf’s wings, flinging him into the ocean far below. Olaf roared in pain and Notus slashed his gut open, ensuring that the Slayer was dead this time. He didn’t even wait for Olaf to hit the surface of the ocean, but immediately left to seek his mate.”