Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Romance Fan Fiction ❯ Darkness ❯ Rescue ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter Eight

Rescue

 

The scorching sun beat down mercilessly upon the ragged group that moved through the vast rolling desert. A multitude of horses circled the caravan, each bearing a slaver that kept a close eye over his charges as they either stumbled through the unforgiving sands or rode in one of the eight wagons.

 

Within one of the eight wagons sat a red head beneath the white canopy that reflected the searing sun as she stared impassively back at the other slaves. Closest to her sat the silver haired dragon as she dozed fitfully. Soren turned her gaze from the nervous slaves and focused instead on the world moving behind them. Finding nothing of interest to hold her attention she settled for staring at the dragon woman. They had been with the caravan and it's slaves for nearly three months and still the other slaves were nervous around Sais and Soren.

 

As it was, the dragon was still asleep after her most recent round with Jestiry and Hakunazra. Since the first time their paths had crossed Sais had developed a resistance to whatever poison they used on her and, so, now she only returned exhausted and bloody, but no longer was she covered in wounds that would threaten her life. Though she could withstand the physical pain, there were things said during those rounds that made it almost impossible for Sais to look Soren in the eye whenever she returned and there were even days that Soren had to work to get more than two or three words out of her.

 

During the times when Jestiry would take Sais away from them, Josaline would linger with the woman-child and her familiar rather than watch her master be tortured into a blissful state of unconsciousness. Though she grew no warmer towards them, she began to tell them stories of Sais's past to ease the long hours between the times when she would be able to take care of her master. She had never expected Soren to pay much attention to her, but the young woman's gaze never wavered from her as she spoke. It was almost as if she understood the ache at not being able to defend Sais, as if she knew what standing as someone's shield meant to her. Whatever it was, she never allowed herself to think much on it and instead focused on the stories that eased her loneliness and brought pride to her heart.

 

Soren eyed Josaline for a moment before she turned her attention back to the dragon herself. The wounds themselves had been light, but when she had returned she hadn't been able to do more than assure her that she was alright before she had dropped into an exhausted sleep. Somehow, she still had trouble believing that Josaline had been telling them the truth when she had told them the story of a young dragon whose first attempt to fly had ended with a crash into a glade of pine trees and being chased by the squirrels that had inhabited those trees. Still, it was comforting to know that this fierce dragon had grown up in a time that didn't involve fear or violence.

 

A smile touched her lips as she thought of Sais being chased by squirrels and taking refuge behind her fathers foreleg to watch as he roasted them and turned them into that nights dinner. Then memory overrode her and she could see again the kindness of her own father's smile and the ache of his loss made her blink back tears. At least he had been avenged. At least Kinnara could never again hurt her or her family. And that was thanks to Sais.

 

Reaching a hand towards Sais she lightly touched the dragon's cheek. She had given her freedom and rescued her from her own torture and for what? To end up in the hands of the Dragon King once more. Sais had given her a reason to live in the form of the young charge that was currently curled up next to her. And for what? They were headed for the Trestri Mountains to become slaves for the entertainment and pleasure of the dragons that lived there. Every moment she sat there, was another moment lost when they could be trying to escape, but she had already tried everything.

 

She had tried to break the manacles, but that had only brought Jestiry down on her and earned several long minutes under torture. She had had Chimadori pass unseen among the slavers only to be rebuffed by the Kingen that served Hakunazra. She had tried to hunt for the queen that was supposed to be among them, but the woman remained elusive. She had even resorted to trying to seduce one of their handlers and it had almost worked, but Jestiry had killed the brute before she had succeeded. She had tried so much more and failed, but never once had she lost hope, because even if she would never admit it some part of her still held faith that Farin was strong enough to resist the seal and to come for her.

 

Oh, she had tried to touch Farin's mind, but had failed. She couldn't believe that a spell was keeping her from talking to him, wouldn't believe that his father had succeeded where even time had not. So, she kept believing that Farin was strong enough to do anything even when she had felt the depth of his power exhausted fighting to keep one dragon at bay. In the darkest part of her soul she recognized that she was dancing along the fine line that separated sanity and insanity and that the belief she put in the strength of her dragon protectors was done more for the sake of holding the past at bay than for any fear of the future she had had.

 

Still, she realized, it didn't hurt that the dragons she was depending on seemed to care about her in their own way. No matter the feelings she might harbor towards them their strength would remain her barrier and keep her sane.

 

Withdrawing her hand from Sais's cheek she leaned back against the wagon and glanced at the other slaves, who were pointedly ignoring her. Well, that was just fine by her.

 

Homuna stirred restlessly in his sleep and clung tighter to her leg. Joko's small form rippled into existence and she was struck by how tired he looked when he curled around his master and rested his head on her thigh. Almost hesitantly she touched Chimadori's mind and asked, Is Joko alright? He and Homuna seem to be tiring much easier than they did a month ago.

 

She felt her Kingen shift uncomfortably at her back. The manacles drain them at a faster rate than you, because they are much younger. Homuna is bonded to your very soul to draw from your magic, but if that magic is drained before it can replenish his own then invariably he will tire more easily. I'd say that if this continues he'll die within six months.

 

A cold fist punched her in the gut. It was suddenly very difficult to breath.

 

Why didn't you tell me earlier? Her voice was sharper than she had intended, but she couldn't help it. Homuna was her charge and if he died…like Janelle…

 

You didn't need the added stress of worrying about Homuna when my strength sustains him just as well as yours.

 

Soren couldn't bring herself to hate her familiar. She had watched out for her too much to have deserved that kind of feeling. If she had truly thought that she didn't need to know something and had it under control, then it had been a better choice rather than let her master run herself into the ground worrying about something she couldn't change. The fist loosened its grip on her lungs and she could breathe again, but the worry remained.

 

Can I transfer my strength like Farin did to me? If I were to give Homuna more of my magic would he be alright?

 

There was a blank confusion flowing between the link between them. Your strength cannot be redirected.

 

Soren felt her worry flare again, felt bile rise to her throat. Why?

 

You are a Listener. Homuna is bonded to your soul and therefore he can draw out what he needs, but anymore and both you and he would be hurt by the backlash.

 

What-

 

Before she could finish the question a commotion outside their wagon distracted her. Angry voices rose and they jerked to a stop. The other slaves of their wagon got up and crouched by the opening to watch whatever was going on.

 

Sais lifted her head and stared at the small knot of people gathering just outside their wagon. Her eyes flicked to Soren's for a moment before she said, “You should see this.”

 

Soren carefully shifted Homuna and Joko without disturbing their sleep, crawled towards Sais, and looked outside. Surprise flickered across her face as she took in the loose group that was forming an even smaller group of individuals. The handlers gathered about them, jeering and calling encouragement to the fighters.

 

She saw all of them, but the smaller group held her attention as three men lunged at a smaller male. The man with silver-blonde hair, a slender build, and forest green eyes moved with a lithe grace that marked him as less than human. A feeling of disquiet flickered in her stomach as she recognized the grace she, her mother, and sister had moved with when they weren't thinking. This, more than anything, told her that there was truth to what Sais had told her. There was indeed imagi blood flowing through her families.

 

The three men missed him as he moved just beyond their reach. A roar of fury filled the air from the larger of them and was urged on by the gleeful shouts of the slavers. The big man lunged again and again for the smaller one, closely followed by his two companions.

 

The high sun glared down at them, highlighting the sweat that beaded slowly down the imagi's face as he worked to keep himself out of reach. He made no move to strike back even as one of his attacker's fists connected solidly with his jaw with a sickening crack. No sound escapes his lips as he backed carefully from the humans, his face set in lines of pain.

 

There was no thought to her movements, no plan. She jumped from the wagon and slipped easily through the stunned crowd. No one tried to stop her. No one even noticed her until she had a fistful of one of the big men's hair.

 

It was so easy.

 

She yanked him back, brought her knee up, and slammed it against his back. No emotion lit her face as she felt the man's spine break and watched his eyes glaze over in death.

 

When she released him, he fell bonelessly to the ground. The others were just turning towards her when the air rippled around her and Sais appeared at her elbow. Though the older woman wasn't much taller than Soren, the sight of an enraged dragon was quite an impressive sight.

 

Sais bared fanged teeth at the humans and they flinched back at the visible reminder that she was a dragon. “I suggest you return to the people you were traveling with before I rip your throats out,” she said quietly. “All of you should return to your groups and let this be.” Her green eyes traveled slowly over the crowd and everyone, except the imagi, slowly backed away from her and the woman-child she had claimed as hers.

 

Even the handlers slunk warily away, leaving their companion to his fate as they made ready to depart again. Whatever else she was, she was a dragon that had lived long enough to watch civilizations turn to dust and earned her power through battle rather than inherited through another's blood.

 

When her cool gaze came to rest upon the man he lowered his gaze respectfully. Carefully stepping over the corpse and around the woman-child, Sais took his chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilted his head back. “What is your name?” she asked.

 

He didn't answer.

 

“His jawbone is broken,” Soren supplied and nudged the corpse with her foot. “This one here got a lucky shot in.”

 

She let go of his chin and gently traced her fingers along his jaw, feeling the soft skin twitch in response to her touch. Power gathered in her fingertips and pulsed through the contact between them. The bone knitted and the bruises faded before they formed. Surprise and gratitude flitted across his face as he drew back a step and bowed slightly.

 

“My thanks, Lady Dragon and Lady Queen,” he murmured.

 

“I am not-”

 

“Your name?” Sais asked again, cutting off Soren's remark.

 

“Torun,” he answered, smiling as he glanced at the younger woman.

 

“Well, Torun,” Sais said lightly, “I suggest that the next time you come into the main body of the people that you come with one or two of your own kind. There are those among the humans that would see you dead for simply being the race that you are.”

 

His hazel eyes darted towards the wagons that were moving out and then to Soren. He slid his hand into the loose folds of his shirt, withdrew a small stone, and tossed it to her. She caught it, snapping her hand up instinctively. Her fingers closed around the surprisingly cool pebble. “I will keep that in mind, Lady Dragon,” he said, his eyes never leaving Soren.

 

Backing carefully away he disappeared behind the wagon to their left.

 

Sais turned away and paced after the wagon they had been riding in. Soren spared a glance for the man she had killed before she ran to catch up with the dragon, but she felt no more than a twinge of guilt over his death. She would never forget the ease with which she had killed him, but there would be no regret for saving Torun from a slow death at their hands.

 

Soren paced at Sais's side in silence for a moment before she asked, “What does the stone mean? The one that Torun gave me.”

 

She glanced at the woman-child. “What stone?”

 

Withdrawing it from her shirt, Soren handed it over to the other woman and then caught it when she tossed it back to her. “It was rather bold of him to do something so traditional for a partial breed like you.”

 

The words stung, but she let nothing show as she asked, “What does it mean?”

 

“Giving a stone to another imagi, even a partial blood, means that they are welcoming you among them. They must have been watching you for several weeks if they sent Torun now to give you that stone. Whatever they observed must have assured them that you wouldn't try to betray them if they accepted you.”

 

She said it so casually, but Soren didn't miss the bitter resentment in those words. Catching her arm she spun the older woman around to face her. “What's your game?” she hissed, lowering her voice as a wagon passed. “What is it that the Jestiry and the other dragon tell you that makes you so bitchy?”

 

Sais coldly studied her. Her silver hair glinted like ice in the high noon sun. “I am not using you to regain the post I left behind,” she spat. “I spent the worst years of my life in that place and I will never return.”

 

Silence hung between them, palpable with the tension she could feel flowing from the older woman. “I know that,” Soren whispered softly. “You wouldn't have come back to Regenku if you thought you were rescuing the queen. You wouldn't have endangered yourself so knowingly for the sake of a queen that you hadn't chosen. And, now, because of me you are captured and we're headed to a king that will possibly kill you for disobedience no matter years of service and loyalty that you gave him and those before him.”

 

Shame flashed abruptly across her features and Sais yanked her arm free of Soren's grip. Turning sharply away from the woman-child she began walking again. Soren had to practically jog to keep up with the pace that the dragon set. “It isn't just that,” she said. “Hakunazra really knows how to drive the wedge in when Jestiry has him pause in the beatings to…talk about the reasons I'm still alive. He dredges up all the children and mates that I've lost over my life, all the mistakes I've made, and the war I caused.”

 

That really caught Soren's attention, but she let it go. There would be time for questions later. For the moment, she understood that Sais was struggling with a lifetime of guilt and that she needed to drain the pus from old, infected wounds so that they could at least scar over. God only knew how she understood wounds and scars.

 

Sais lowered her head and watched her feet as she walked, old memories overwhelming her. “There was never anything I could do for my children and the mates I lost… Long lived races have the tendency to lose their grip on reality after a while and sometimes I had to kill them after they went insane. It was never something I enjoyed or particularly wanted to do, but it was necessary. Insane dragons tend to be a danger to everything and everyone, including themselves, so it's best to put them out of their misery before they kill someone else that you care about.”

 

“And Upchuck decided that it would be a good idea to grind it into your wounds that it was your fault that you had survived where they had died? He decided to tell you that you were at fault for the deaths of your children even when it may have been their choice to challenge another dragon to combat?”

 

“Upchuck?” Sais asked curiously, smiling faintly.

 

“Hakunazra when shortened is Haku and that sounds like hack or huck, which makes me think of a cat spewing it's guts all over it's master's expensive. So, I renamed him Upchuck. Or if you don't like that we can always call him Chuck,” Soren replied, grinning a little when Sais laughed.

 

The amusement faded between them, but it eased whatever wedge Hakunazra had tried to drive between them. “But, yes, that is what Hakunazra almost convinced me of,” Sais said after a short pause. “You don't think that maybe he's right, do you? In some way, I've always held myself responsible for the deaths of my mates and all my children. If I had been stronger maybe they wouldn't have felt the need to leave so soon after maturing or if I had raised them better or if I had been a better mate-”

 

“Life has a funny way of finding the most sadistic ways of tearing our loved ones from us,” Soren interrupted mildly. “Take my father for example. He was killed by Kinnara simply for loving her sister more and just as he was trying to help her, her daughter, my mother, and I escape the bloodshed that inevitably follows the execution of a ruler. It was in no way my fault, but I was still present and I couldn't help finding some way to blame myself. `If I had been a little less afraid or had tackled her legs rather than wrestling my sister into the next room maybe I could have saved him.' That still doesn't negate the fact that I was seven and she was an adult. She was jealous and crazy, and that's all it comes down to. My father is dead. He's gone. I couldn't have stopped Kinnara from doing anything and that's that. So, if I'm not to blame for my father's death then you're not to blame for the deaths of your children.”

 

An awkward silence fell between them. Then, “You're very unsure with this sort of thing aren't you?”

 

“Of course, I haven't had a lot of practice. Unless you count bugging my sister until she cried and ran to our mother,” Soren answered lightly even as pain lanced her heart.

 

Sais snorted.

 

She didn't even look at her as she said, “You killed rather easily.”

 

It was easier, Soren reflected, if they didn't look at each other. She kept her gaze leveled on the white canvas of the wagon before them. This was a subject she had hoped would forever remain untouched. “I've killed before,” she said slowly. “This is just the first time I've had to get up close.”

 

“I would have thought with the prince acting as your personal guardian that you would not have any need to do such things.” She could not hide the sarcasm or hate that laced her voice.

 

Soren weighed her words carefully. “He sent my mother, sister, and I to a village on the outskirts of Regenku after a rebellion by the ministers. Most of the nobles were against them, so they decided to use the servants to dispose of the higher ranking families. It was…messy, especially when Farin joined the battle. He'd already disposed of the main bulk of the resistance, men taken forcibly from their villages and threatened into submission, when he tore into the servants. He didn't kill them so much as splatter them across the walls.” She hesitated, glancing at Sais's emotionless face.

 

“I was caught in the middle of it with my mother and we couldn't fight our way out of it. There were a few men bearing down on us and mother couldn't have lasted against them, but she would have tried…for my sake. I didn't want to lose another parent so…I did the one thing I could think of and I, well, I gathered what strength there was available to me and I threw unshaped magic at them. They exploded and then Farin was there, shielding us from the rest of the attack.

 

“After that, it was decided that I had shown too much potential and that I was in danger of being killed by the ministers. Farin gathered the wives and children of slain nobles and set them up with land, a house, and a crop to cover…what…he…was doing.” As she talked she began to see that every action he had taken that day had been done for her sake. Slaughtering the nobles and servants in his way to get to her, sending the other widows and children away, and arresting Kinnara; he had done it all for the sake of protecting a queen too young to fully trust him. A stone lodged itself in her stomach as her memories skipped back to the night before that when the lightning had passed through her. He hadn't just taken a passing fancy in her as a pet. Farin actually cared about her, whether or not she chose to be his queen. Maybe…maybe it really was possible that she was…

 

She looked at Sais, really looked this time, and saw the former Riagenkai that had risked her life and freedom to rescue her from her aunt. She saw the wariness of a dragon unsure of the footing she stood on. She saw the pain of her last king's betrayal. She saw the weight and grief of being the last of her generation and family. And yet…and yet here she stood, with her.

 

Soren swallowed against the bile she felt rising. “Sais,” she said softly. “What's it like when you choose a ruler?”

 

Wariness flashed through her eyes, but she answered, “Sometimes it is a choice and nothing happens. Sometimes it is the land that forces our choice. When the land chooses for us there is lightning that flashes from our bodies and through the ruler's. It binds our minds together and makes it near impossible to disobey a direct command. Why?”

 

They locked gazes for a moment and she knew in that moment that if she lied she would destroy whatever trust they had built over that last nine months. Still, it was rather stomach churning to admit something she had just come to terms with. “I don't know,” she said quietly. “I can't be sure that .”

 

Sais raised an eyebrow at her. “A Listener?” she murmured wonderingly. “The brat got lucky and chose a Listener as his second royal.”

 

Soren dropped her gaze uncomfortably. “Chimadori called me that. Sais?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How long can Homuna survive with the manacles on?”

 

“Another six months at best,” she answered, grimacing. “If you are truly a Listener then it isn't safe for you to divert too much of your power to Homuna lest the land kills you when it takes what it needs.” The sand shifted beneath her feet and she stumbled, but managed to keep her balance by grabbing Soren's arm.

 

Soren paused and looked at her. “Then can your magic sustain him for a while? I know you said that Homuna is bound to me, but if he's-”

 

“What part of bonded do you not understand?” Sais asked testily as she straightened. “A dragon young cannot have another's power sustaining him unless it is their familiar or their…parent's or ward's Kingen. It would hurt more than help if I were to give him my strength. Look, we've still got time to find a way out of these things and if it comes down to it, then I'll break yours and Homuna's manacles and send Josaline with you.”

 

At the cost of her own life, of course, Chimadori added as they came within sight of the wagon they had been in that morning.

 

“Would you die?” Soren asked, glancing at a slaver and his chestnut stallion. He watched them without much interest before he turned his head to speak with one of his fellows that had pulled alongside him.

 

“Yes. The poison is set to be released to one of the three of us if the manacles are broken and I'm more inclined to fight for the chance for the younger generations to live. I've lived a long time,” she said, weariness lacing her voice. Rarely had she ever felt her age as keenly as in moments like these.

 

Before Soren could protest such a remark she gasped as pain spread from her wrists and engulfed her entire body, until it felt like her very blood had been set fire to. Her muscles began to spasm uncontrollably and she fell to her hands and knees. Distantly, she was aware of Sais snarling as the slavers closed around them, but she couldn't seem to focus through the haze that was slowly forcing her vision to tunnel. She tried to force her body to obey her commands and stand so she could help her dragon fight, but she couldn't so much as twitch a finger.

 

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the handlers activated Sais's manacles and slowly over powered her using the pain against her. They closed in on her, wary of her strength as a dragon, but she never saw what they did to her as she fainted.

 

* * *

 

Faint light pierced her eyelids, making her groan and roll over. She burrowed deeper into the softness around her and breathed in the male scent that permeated from it. The soft murmur of voices made her aware that there were people just outside. Slowly, piece by piece, memory of the previous day floated back to her. She breathed in the male scent again and caught with it a heavy, musky smell. Her stomach rolled as her memories identified it and she jerked back, bashing her head into something solid.

 

Steady, throbbing pain split her vision and made her eyes water as she drew a breath to curse and clutched at the swelling lump on her head. A strong hand clamped down on her mouth from behind and silenced any sound she might have made.

 

“Hush, Jestiry is right outside,” a gruff voice ordered her. “Nod if you'll keep quiet.”

 

After a quick assessment of her choices she nodded. Whoever he was, he wasn't out to hurt her yet. The hand dropped from her mouth and she turned her head to look at the male crouching beside the bed.

 

He was young with light sandy brown hair and hard, green eyes. His build was slight, but there was strength in the way he moved as he stood. Something about his movements reminded her strongly of the way Sais and Farin walked. There was a quiet confidence in the way they moved and this man matched their feline grace and confidence.

 

Dragon.

 

The word resonated through her and settled in her blood. This man was a dragon. Chimadori's words from months previous rang through her mind, There may even be a third dragon among this lot and I highly doubt that the bastard is unaware of his catch. This man was the third adult dragon.

 

Her eyes traveled to his neck and then to his wrists. Sure enough, he was bound with manacles and a collar just as Sais was. She shifted into a better sitting position to watch him as he moved about the plain, brown tent and winced as pain throbbed through her lower stomach.

 

He glanced at her as she moved and she felt something within her ice encrusted soul stir. Her heart began to race and her very blood sang as he studied her with those hard, emerald eyes. For the first time in a long time she felt alive, truly alive. She held his smoldering gaze for a moment that contained eternity before he crouched to pick up a discarded sack and began stuffing whatever was within his reach into its depths. “You know what he did to you last night, then?” he asked softly, carefully avoiding her eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

He looked sharply at her at the easy answer she gave. “You're accepting it rather easily,” he said suspiciously, studying her.

 

She blinked, ran through their conversation again, and gave him a tight smile. “It's been awhile since it's happened, but this isn't the first time a rat bastard like him has used me,” she said with an honesty that surprised them both. He gave her a long look and then tossed the sack to the side of the tent and turned to the rest of the junk that still needed packing up.

 

After a moments uncomfortable silence he said, “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

 

“Why would you?”

 

Glancing at her again, he said, “I've been watching you. You were careless to leave that corpse where Jestiry could find him. I took care of it in a way that the idiot will be hard pressed to search for his man.”

 

“Then, last night wasn't…”

 

“No, Sais has not broken and he has become frustrated. His next course of action would be to break you to control her. He hasn't even taken count of his handlers yet, so he doesn't know that anyone is missing. I think he discarded your clothes,” he said. “You'll have to make do with whatever I can find.”

 

“Fine. What's your name?”

 

He deliberately ignored her question. For a while, he picked up whatever he came across and examined it. Clothes, he thrust into another sack; rope was used to bind together the sacks and whatever loose objects he could find; food taken from saddle bags, sniffed and tasted before tossed in a sack or thrown at Soren. Whatever could be said about Jestiry, the man had a lot of junk that he could accumulate over the course of a single night. The saddle he set on top of the growing pile.

 

Her eyes flashed to the flap of the tent as movement caught her attention. “Now what?” she asked, as Jestiry's form became visible just outside. For now at least, Jestiry's head was turned away from them as he spoke to someone outside of her hearing.

 

A feral smile spread across his sensuous lips as he stood and tossed the final bag into the pile. In his left hand he held a pair of breeches and a shirt, both of which he threw to her. “Nothing,” was all he said before he moved in a tight circle to crouch at the side of the opening.

 

When Jestiry finally looked at her, surprised pleasure flashed across his features. He took a step in and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped him as the dragon cloaked in shadows moved with deadly intent. He must have seen the flicker of movement behind him, because he met the attack without hesitation. They clashed and the dragon bared down on him, but strength wasn't enough.

 

Silver flashed and a roar of pain was ripped from his throat. “Junkura,” Jestiry hissed.

 

A moments weakness was all he would have needed and they would have been free, but Jestiry had the larger dragon subdued within an instant. The dragon curled around his wounded side and grit his teeth against the pain that flared to life from his manacles. Blast it all, he had been so close. Just another instant and he could have had the queen free. Through the haze of pain, his gaze traveled past Jestiry and found her silver eyes. He would have laughed if not for the distraction as she slowly rose and chucked her bundle at the man.

 

It didn't hit him, missed him by a far cry, but it did distract him. His concentration broken, he looked at the woman-child and never had a chance to counter before claws ripped through his back and broke his spinal cord. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating him in the gory aftermath of his kill as he tore his claws free of the corpse and looked at his accomplice.

 

Two rage filled roars echoed through the hasty encampment not a moment later and Soren turned her gaze in the direction she heard sounds of a short lived battle. He grinned. “It would seem that both Riagenkai have realized their freedom and are taking advantage of it,” he said with a laugh that drew her attention back to him.

 

There was no relief in her eyes at being free, only a curious blankness to their silver depths. It was almost as if she had become one of the living dead. He shivered at the thought. No one deserved that sort of fate…unless it was Askerin.

 

Her lips parted, but no words came forth. She blinked in surprise as warm fur brushed against her leg. So, Chimadori had finally escaped the clutches of the other Kingen.

 

Soren!! Are you hurt? Are you injured? Are you ill? Hakunazra and Sais are free of their shackles. They're ripping through the slavers with their Kingen as we speak. What happened? One moment I was pinned by Hakunazra's Kingen so I couldn't help you and the next he was fighting the apes.

 

She didn't flinch at the panic she heard in Chimadori's voice. I'm fine. Jestiry is dead. Help Sais and Hakunazra take care of the handlers and try to make sure the humans are kept well out of danger. I'm sure the imagi can take care of themselves.

 

And the male? Chimadori asked, her reluctance to leave apparent with every word.

 

He was the one that killed Jestiry. I think that earns him a little credit.

 

Fine. As you wish, muncura idiot.

 

Her lips twitched in a smile as her familiar disappeared to carry out her will. Leave it to Chimadori to express her displeasure even as she followed orders. Then her amusement faded when her gaze met again with the dragon's. He was an enigma.

 

“Why wait so long if you were always able to kill him?”

 

He shrugged and his gaze almost seemed to sear through her. “The stakes were never high enough and I never had a good enough opportunity. You saw how easily he subdued me,” he said softly.

 

She certainly didn't look much like any queen he had ever known. Naked, filthy, covered by bruises in the most intimate parts of her body, and much too thin, she looked more like a half grown chit than a woman. He closed his eyes to her as discomfort filled his body, radiating once more from the thrice blasted manacles, but it was over as quickly as it had begun and then they snapped open to fall free of his skin. He didn't have to look to know that she was free of her bonds as well.

 

“What's your name?” she asked.

 

He hesitated. “Amaras. I'll leave you to your dressing,” he said abruptly and left, though he was brought up short by the appearance of a shorter, stocky dragon.

 

She gave him a cool, assessing look. “Male,” Sais said shortly.

 

“Female,” he replied and pushed past her.

 

Sais watched him leave and then cast Soren a sidelong glance before she studied the corpse. For her part, she looked better than she had in a few weeks despite the blood that flecked her skin and clothes. The collar around her neck was gone, though there was a nasty welt where it had chafed at her skin.

 

Suddenly, everything crashed down on her. The weight of the last three months, the shame of being used, the fear for Farin, the fear that Homuna would be found out, and, most of all, the relief that it was over. She couldn't have held them back if she had wanted to, the tears tore at her. Sais was standing across the tent one moment and then holding her the next.

 

Soren clung to her as if she were the only thing anchoring her to sanity. She wasn't sure how, but Sais managed to get one of the blankets wrapped around her and had her in her arms before she could protest, not that she wanted to. They were gone from the tent and it was burning before she was aware of leaving.

 

It could have been an eternity that she wept, but she was exhausted and asleep before they reached Sais's intended destination and, for the first time in a long time, she slept without dreams.