The frozen Baslik statue was still there, its eyes wide open but seeing nothing, its arms raised as though to protect its head from the freezing blast.
Again, the Drake reached out one massive paw. He placed it almost delicately on the top of the Baslik statue and pressed downward. Once more there was an explosion as the statue exploded into shards, just as the bubble had. And once more the huge, bat-like wing flicked out to shield Isla.
This time, when the wing withdrew, there was nothing left of her husband but a pile of icy fragments. They would probably be most unpleasant and bloody once they thawed, but for now they looked like gravel and dust, Isla thought.
She was glad the physical remains of Baslik were frozen—as much as she had loathed and despised him, she hadn’t wanted to see him killed in a gory bloodbath. The freezing was so much cleaner and less traumatizing, she thought.
Then the enormous Drake turned his attention to her.
His long, snaky neck twisted towards her and his huge head—which was as big as her entire body—was suddenly on the same level as hers. He cocked his head to one side, as though contemplating her or maybe listening to some inner voice.
Was Sark still in there, somehow—inside the gigantic blue beast, Isla wondered? Or was the Drake a mindless animal, about to do to her what he had just done to Baslik?
Surely not, she told herself. He shielded me from the ice shards—he must have my best interests in mind—right?
But it was difficult to trust that was true when the enormous head with its deadly fangs and burning eyes with their icy flames was so close to her. It also didn’t help that she was naked and still frozen in place by the nerve-immobilization band around her wrist.
One would have thought that Baslik’s passing would have broken its power over her, but apparently not, for she still couldn’t move a muscle. Though she could speak, since Baslik had ordered her to do so earlier, before he died.
“Please,” she whispered to the enormous Drake. “Please, don’t hurt me!”
The Drake gave a faint, indignant snort and a puff of icy vapor came from his nostrils. Then, very carefully, he leaned closer and examined the black leather band around her wrist. Pursing his lips—which were surprisingly fascicle for such a huge creature, he blew a single ice crystal towards the band.
Isla watched it float towards her—it looked like a solitary, perfect snowflake but she could feel its intense cold as it passed by her bare breasts. It settled on the leather bracelet and for a moment she felt a burning, stinging cold that seemed to encircle her wrist like an icy handcuff.
Then the nerve-immobilization band cracked and shattered, falling away from her wrist like so much black dust and finally Isla could move again.
The first thing she did was collapse onto her side, shivering helplessly on the cold metal table. She had been frozen on her hands and knees for so long, it felt as though all her muscles were cramping at once.
The Drake nudged her—very gently—with his nose. Isla would have expected his touch to be freezing cold, but to her surprise, it wasn’t. The breath he blew on her actually warmed her and she stopped shivering quite so much. Maybe he could control the temperature of his internal structures, somehow, she mused.
“Th-thank you,” she whispered. Taking a chance, she reached out and laid one hand on his long, scaly snout. To her further surprise, the scales weren’t hard at all—they felt soft and smooth, almost like closely set feathers under her fingers.
And then she heard his voice.
“Will not hurt you,” the Drake said, very clearly in her head. “Wish only to protect you.”
“You…you do?” Isla almost drew her hand back in surprise, but she had a feeling that the only reason she could hear the immense beast speaking in her head was because they were in physical contact. So she kept her hand on his nose and was able to hear his reply.
“You are mine—ours—you belong to me and Sark,” he told her. “As we belong to you—belong together. We will always protect you, Isla. Always love you.”
Isla felt something ease inside her—the cold, hard lump of pure fear that had crystallized in her belly the moment she walked out of the bathing chamber and saw Baslik standing there, sneering at her, had finally melted away. She was safe, she thought—finally safe. She—
“There she is! Lord Le’rank’s people are looking for him and his mate—we must bring her to them! Quickly, get her!”
It was Feed’lix and he was pointing at her, urging the other Fenushians to run and grab her, Isla saw. Earlier they had all run away, but now they were back and ready for battle. Luckily, they were all standing there hesitating at the edge of the glade, clearly unwilling to come nearer to Sark’s enormous Drake. But it was clear by the way Feed’lix was prodding them, that they would come to get her eventually.