Chapter Eight
Arianrhod didn’t waste time worrying if the magic that subverted her last arrow would have the same effect on this one. Not much she could do about it if it did. She sighted and let a golden arrow fly straight at one of the shackles holding the dragon in place. A shower of sparks erupted as the arrow burrowed through an iron manacle.
With a high-pitched shriek of pain, Eletea wrenched one wing free. Blood flowed from the rent in it. “The other.” She focused dark eyes with golden centers on Arianrhod, urging her to action.
A glance at a partially-shifted Rhukon told her she was running out of time. She loosed another arrow. For a moment, it looked as if it would pin the dragon more firmly to the wall behind her, but Arianrhod heaved magic after the arrow, and the shackle broke into pieces and clattered to the floor.
Eletea yanked her other wing free just as Malik lumbered around to face her, fire spewing from his mouth. The smaller dragon had a clear advantage because she could maneuver in what was a tight fit for Malik, who outweighed her by a good five hundred pounds.
Blood flowed down Eletea’s wings in dark rivulets that dripped onto the packed earth floor, but she ignored her wounds. Fire flashed from her mouth, and she raised her red tipped talons to fighting stance. “What?” she demanded. “Will we burn the world around us to a cinder?”
“Ye’re still under my command.” Malik scored the walls with fire.
“In your dreams. Soon no one will be under your command. Once the others find out what you’ve done, you’ll be banished from Fire Mountain.”
“Ye just gave me a most excellent reason to make certain they never do. Ye’re far from immortal, little dragon. Ye’re barely past your first century. Ye have no hope of—”
Compulsion cloaked his words like thick honey, but Eletea appeared immune. Arianrhod smiled grimly when the young dragon rolled her shoulders with a clattering of scales and spat, “Give it up. Those old tricks won’t work on me.”
Magic flared around Angus as he built something—no doubt a fireproof shield—about himself and Connor. Cursing the half of her hair she hadn’t bothered to braid, Arianrhod did the best she could to bundle the floor-length strands and tuck them beneath her top as she summoned a ward.
“I told you not to leave her alone,” another dragon’s voice—likely Danne, since he was the only one not accounted for—sounded from the far end of the cavern. He trotted into view, surprisingly agile for his size as he pushed past Malik’s bulk. His scales were the same rich coppery-gold as Eletea’s, but where her eyes were dark with lighter centers, his were pure gold from edge to edge.
“Why, Danne?” Eletea swung to face her egg-mate. “At least tell me why, so I’m not ashamed to call you brother.”
“I might ask you the same thing.” Fire forked from his mouth, but it bounced off Eletea. Dragons were impervious to the stuff. They’d been forged in it. “You killed my beloved. My mate.”
Eletea shook her head. Smoke and fire-tinged spittle flew from her mouth. “You can’t have a romance with your shifter bond mate. That’s just wrong. No one does things that way.”
“That doesn’t make it immoral, only different,” he replied in a wheedling, whiny tone.
“Shut up!” Malik roared. “Not the time for tea, crumpets, and talk.”
“You broke our laws by bringing me here against my will.” Eletea drew herself tall and faced Malik. “At the very least, you should be stripped of the bond with your human for that. Connor too.”
“You broke them first by killing Mitha,” Danne hissed.
“I didn’t break anything.” Eletea punctuated her words with a high bugle. “She was wicked. We kill evil.”
Arianrhod caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She spun but was a hair too late. Malik scooped her off the ground with a taloned foreleg and held her tight against his black-scaled chest.
“Ye forget yourself.” She writhed, but his grip tightened. She kicked his chest, but she may as well have kicked a boulder.
“Let her go!” Angus leapt to his feet, blade in one hand and power blazing from him so brightly he rivaled the dragons.
Danne focused flame on Angus’s blade. It turned red hot, but he kept hold of it. When Arianrhod looked through her third eye, she saw cooling magic flow upward from the Earth. It shrouded Angus, protecting him from dragonfire.
Connor thrashed weakly on the ground. Angus barked a command, and the knife pinning him began to glow with a blue-white light. “Let her go,” he repeated.
“Or?” Malik favored him with a toothy grin that displayed double rows of razor sharp teeth.
Angus squared his shoulders. “Or I won’t rest until you’re banished by your people. I might not manage to do away with you today, but I’ll make it my life’s mission to destroy you.”
Arianrhod wanted to tell him to leave. Despite Malik’s threats, the dragon couldn’t harm her.
“Oh, but you’re wrong.” Malik swung her so she faced one of his whirling eyes. “Wipe that shocked look off your face. Your mind is like an open book to me. I can force you so far into theDreaming, you’ll never find your way back.”
“Try it.” She bridled, furious with the dragon, but even angrier with herself for allowing him to capture her.