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The Fire Within Page 12


  He pulled away, filling her mind with images of the tents, the Wall, people. He wanted to go back to the camp. Since the horses had likely fled while the two fighting dragons roared with fury, she couldn’t argue.

  She refused to even contemplate his friend’s sorrow that Zahak had shifted to this form. They’d been through hell and back, betrayed by their brothers, nearly swallowed by Shadow entirely.

  Love had saved them. Love would save them again.

  Gingerly, she stood without too much difficulty. How badly was she hurt? Dread filled her as she twisted around to see the backs of her legs. Lines of scarring ran behind her knees, disappearing up her thighs and down the back of her calves, shimmering pearly white in the moonlight. It was thick, tougher, she decided, poking a finger at the scars, a testament to what she’d endured. No pain remained, so she took a limping step, then another. Although still stiff, she was healed.

  A ripple stirred deep in her heart, a wellspring of moonlight lit with flames.

  The Red Dragon crouched, raising his wing out of the way so she could scramble on his back. Clumsily, she did so, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold on. He took several running steps and leaped into the air. Her stomach dropped and she clutched him harder, afraid to look, afraid to fall into the darkness.

  Diamonds glittered in her mind, stars against velvet black, gleaming sands below. The vision he gave her was so beautiful that she forced herself to open her eyes. He flew smoothly, his wings beating in a slow but powerful stroke. Gorgeously lit by the full moon, the rolling sand dunes stole her breath. The air was crisp and clear, the night sky wondrous.

  Joy bubbled up from her heart in laughter. How long had she lived in darkness and Shadow, afraid? And now, for the first time in her life, she had something to live for, someone to love.

  Zahak climbed higher, spiraling and spinning until she laughed out loud. If she were a dragon, she’d cling to him, all four legs wrapped around him while he carried them higher, spiraling in pleasure.

  In a moment of ultimate trust, she let go of his neck, slipping from his back as he spun. He caught her against his chest, claws carefully digging into her skin. His dragon heart beat strong against her cheek, his purring rumble vibrating through her body.

  All too soon, he dipped down through the lightening sky, winding toward the tents huddled against the Wall. Sentries shouted. Black robed warriors raced across the sands, pointing their scimitars at the sky. Zahak landed on the perimeter, setting her down gently on her feet.

  People shouted, running toward them.

  Staring into his gleaming eyes, she stroked a hand down his wide, scaled forehead. “Thank you for a wondrous ride. I wish...”

  She couldn’t find the words, so she concentrated on building the picture in her mind. Wings furling, white and red, both streaked with black, but soaring toward the moon anyway, with love, such love, wrapped around each other in a spinning, dizzying dance.

  “She’s alive!”

  Shouts fell silent.

  What she wouldn’t do for some clothing. She refused to cower, though, even naked and burned. Turning, she noted the fear on the people’s faces, the awe in their eyes as they took in the freshly healed scars.

  The priest walked toward them slowly, his face soft with reverence. “The Black?”

  “He ate Amin, but we defeated him in the end.”

  Nodding, the priest turned toward the people and raised his voice. “Behold! The White survives! She walks from the sands at dawn with a Red beside her! The prophesy is true. Agni Comes.”

  The fiery sun climbed in the sky and a rumbling roar sent people scurrying for shelter. A shape blocked the sun, dark against the dawn and dwarfing Zahak’s dragon. Flames poured from the sky and set the Wall ablaze. Screaming, wailing, the people fell to the ground, prostrating themselves before the fury of a God.

  A voice like rolling thunder crashed across the dunes. :TO SURVIVE MY ENDLESS FIRE, BRING ME MY WHITE.:

  The priest turned startled eyes to her. Zahak slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. He crouched over her and roared a warning at his God.

  :NOT THIS DAUGHTER WHO IS CLAIMED BY MY SON. SEARCH THE LANDS BEYOND AND FIND THE UNCLAIMED WHITE DESTINED FOR ME. ONLY SHE CAN SPARE THE REMNANT FROM MY FIRE. WITHOUT HER, YOU WILL SUFFER MY ETERNAL FLAMES.:

  Blasting fire, Agni spun in a slow circle above them, directing flames at the other dragon. Zahak roared and writhed above Eleni, holy fire burning away his flesh. He tried to fling her aside to spare her, but she clung to him.

  :If you die, take me with you. I won’t live without you.:

  Smoke choked her, heat seared her, but she held to him. Scales rained down, his agony ringing in her head. Wracked in pain, he collapsed to the sands, rolling away from her. Even now, he tried to protect her.

  She held firm, arms around his thrashing neck, and prayed. She remembered the silvered moon shining down, Our Blessed Lady’s approval. She was Her Daughter, blessed with Her White blood, Her power.

  Moonlight filled her, blending with Zahak’s flames. She drew on that well of magical quicksilver and pushed power through their bond. She would protect him, now, with the power and strength of her love.

  Wreathed in Fire, she held him in the glow of the full moon. She held him while his dragon body burned away, leaving the human warrior behind. With one final trumpeting roar, Agni flew deeper into the desert.

  Cradling Zahak’s head in her lap, she brushed his hair out of his face, tracing the new red marks burned into his cheek, down his neck, across his chest: the mark of his God’s approval. He jerked awake, his chest heaving on the first deep breath of air. Coughing, he drew her close. “Azharana.”

  Eleni smiled and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “Are you well?”

  “You’re alive, I’m alive, our enemies are dead. I want for nothing more.”

  He sat up and drew her into his arms. She laid her cheek against his chest and listened to his heart, strong and sure and hers.

  “Azi, Azharana.” On his knees, the priest touched his lips, forehead, and heart. “My water and my life are yours.”

  One by one, other warriors did the same, from many different tribes if the colors on their headdresses and tattoos on their cheeks were any indication. Zahak allowed it, but she felt the grimness growing in his heart. He’d never wanted this responsibility, but now that it was his, he would shield his people with the last breath in his body. The weight of his new title pressed on him, stone by stone, face by face, life by life.

  Determined to lighten his mood, Eleni waited until the last warrior bowed and walked away. “So, azi, what do we do now?”

  “I must bring Tellan to us, and the other tribes which refused to come to the Wall. Then we must heed Agni’s Call.” He shook his head, his face hard and grim. “It means war against the munakuri. Not just your people, but any tribes that might shelter Somma’s blood. None will surrender their Daughters easily, and I don’t relish sacrificing innocent women to Him. War, bloodshed, grim days indeed. We—”

  Eleni stood and drew him up with her. “I have some dirty deeds to complete first, azi. Can you make me your saif?”

  “You, saif?” He chuckled, drawing her into the shelter of his body as he led the way to his tent. “You can’t even find my tent without assistance.”

  “Any tent will do.”

  Growling, he picked her up. “Only my tent will do, azharana.”

  “I want to mark you again, azi.” she whispered, nibbling on his ear. “I need you, just for tonight.”

  “Iyeh, tonight and forever.”

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