Hidden Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon Book 7) Page 2

  Dianthe’s already red eyes began to tear again.

  “You gave her information. I know you did. Not a lot, I’m sure. But you wanted to endear yourself to her. I know you, Dianthe. I know you had good intentions. But if you’d seen her face when I told her we knew who she was. If you’d seen how quickly she fled… Everfield is burning because of Aborella.”

  Dianthe’s knees seemed to give out and she sat down hard, her hair blowing in the saltwater breeze. All light drained from her eyes and her mouth gaped. Beyond the stern, the ever-reddening sky over Everfield was thick with smoke from the active fires. How long would Empyrean Wood burn? Would there be anything left by the time they put it out?

  “You think Everfield is burning because of Aborella, and Aborella was there because of… me.” Dianthe grimaced as the truth set in.

  Sylas wished he could tell her she was wrong, but he’d known this would happen. Aborella was as evil as they came. She couldn’t be trusted. “It’s not your fault. You’ve always been able to trust your visions in the past. It’s just now…”

  “Now what?”

  Every part of Sylas felt heavy and bone weary. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Aborella might have infected her or polluted her gift with a dark curse. He didn’t know for sure, but he suspected they could not trust Dianthe’s visions any longer. Not right away. Even tonight’s prophecy had been far too late to be of much help. She was off her game. They’d have to be cautious.

  He couldn’t tell her now though. Not like this. Not when her homeland was burning and she had no idea if the community she’d grown up in, the people she loved, were well and safe. He sat beside her and slid his hand into hers.

  “Nothing. We’re safe. I’m here. This is the best we can do for now.”

  He was relieved when she seemed to accept it. She laid her head on his shoulder and watched helplessly as the forest of her childhood and the home they’d built together blazed.

  Chapter Two

  Aborella stood at the window of her ritual room, scanning the forest beyond the Obsidian Palace for any sign of her familiar, Abacus. Days ago she’d tied a note of warning to the leg of the silver bird, commanding her to fly to Dianthe. Abacus had never returned. Worse, when she’d attempted to call the bird to her using their magical bond, she’d been met only with emptiness where there’d once been a connection. She was beginning to fear her dear pet was dead.

  Surely Dianthe wouldn’t have harmed the bird. Sylas perhaps, if he’d thought she was using it to spy, but she doubted it. His mate would never allow it. Still, she hadn’t slept well since. Something was wrong. Something that was too close to her to see.

  After searching the sky one more time, she turned to the dark crystal she sometimes used for scrying. She rested her fingers on the smooth surface.

  “Show me Abacus,” she whispered.

  Cloudy images flitted through the reflection in the stone. Shapeless masses. Nothing she could discern. Nothing helpful. But then an easily recognizable feeling overcame her. Like being dipped in ice water, she sensed evil pressing in around her, nipping her skin. She was sinking, being swallowed by absolute darkness.

  With a gasp, she removed her fingers from the stone. Oh, Abacus. What happened to you?

  Three sharp knocks came on the door. Strange—normally no one bothered her here. They were all too afraid of disturbing her work for the empress. She didn’t get a chance to ask who it was. Without any invitation on Aborella’s part, Eleanor, empress of Paragon, entered like an arctic wind.

  Aborella stood and bowed. “Empress, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Have you found the child yet?” Eleanor demanded. She was dressed in red velvet today, in a gown that might have hung on the wall as its own work of art. The stiff neckline circled her shoulders and folded around her body, giving the appearance that she was wrapped inside the head of a rose. The effect was striking… until the empress smiled. Then all Aborella could think was that she’d found the thorn.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Aborella did her best to feign disappointment. “My visions are unclear. I suspect Raven and her sisters are blocking me. I’ll keep trying. I’m bound to find a crack in their protective magic with time.”

  The empress grunted and paced into the room, her fingers trailing over the herbs and magical objects on the shelf. Aborella bristled as Eleanor’s nails passed the shadow-mail candle she’d stolen from Sylas and Dianthe. If the empress ever found out she’d used it to warn Nathaniel of the empress’s plans to destroy the child, she’d likely kill Aborella. Or worse.

  “And what of the rebellion,” Eleanor asked slowly. “Has your sight been effective at tracking their whereabouts?”

  Aborella knew better than to try the same trick twice. Eleanor’s expectations must be appeased. “Yes, I see them in Rogos. I believe they’re sheltering near the sacred pools of Niven.”

  Eleanor’s brows arched toward her intricately braided dark hair. “The pools of Niven? Smart of them to hide in the only place on Ouros where the water is deadly to dragons. I wonder though how they managed the elves. After all, their leader, Lord Niall, told me only yesterday that they were committed to neutrality. I doubt he’d suffer a band of rebels on his most holy ground.”

  Aborella spread her hands. “My visions are always open to interpretation.”

  “Hmmm. Yes. And lately all interpretations seem to lead nowhere.” Eleanor walked to the window, crossed her arms, and stared out at nothing in particular. Her already dark eyes seemed to grow darker despite her face turning toward the sun.

  She’d changed over the past months, lost weight and grown exceedingly pale. It was the blood magic. That type of magic demanded a price, and it showed in Eleanor’s hollow cheeks and skeletal arms.

  “I will redouble my efforts,” Aborella promised. “I haven’t tried an amplification spell yet. With the right magic, I know I can get you what you need.”

  “I expect more from you.” Eleanor turned from the window and glared at her.

  Icy shards of fear speared through Aborella’s torso, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. What had happened? What did Eleanor know that she wasn’t sharing?

  “And you will get it, my empress. For as long as we’ve been friends, I’ve taken pride in teaching you magic and advocating for you through your many trials, all in support of your goal to unite the five kingdoms. I won’t stop now. We will find answers. We’ll find the child and the rebels.” Aborella thought the lie sounded perfectly believable to her ears, but with every word, Eleanor’s face distorted with building rage.

  “Yes,” she snapped. “You will find answers, Aborella, or things will get… difficult for you.” Hands planted on her bony hips, Eleanor called toward the open door. “Ransom, please show Aborella what you showed me.”

  A dragon with a chiseled jaw and thick wavy hair strode into the room. She’d long suspected that Ransom, captain of the Obsidian Guard, was serving the empress in another capacity than her head of security. She’d caught the empress’s fingers lingering on his arm and encountered him in the hall outside her chambers late into the evening. The dragon was handsome but both a coward and a fool. She never welcomed his company.

  He had a bag in his hand. Whatever was in it stank like rancid meat. Aborella shivered from the stench. “What is that?”

  He reached a hand into the bag and retrieved a dead animal. Dead for days by the looks of it. With abject horror, she realized it was a bird, dangling from his fingers by its legs, its feathers stained with blood. Oh goddess, it was Abacus! Dead, rotting. She stank of decay. Her once bright silver color had dulled in her death. Her silvery voice had silenced for evermore.

  An arrow of pain shot straight through Aborella’s heart, shattering it. She stumbled back a step, clutching her chest. Small sips of air were all she could manage as she tried her best not to cry. Nothing good would come from Eleanor seeing her cry.

  “What have you done?” she rasped. The symbols in her
dark purple skin came alive, her magic itching to teach Ransom a lesson.

  “Don’t,” the empress warned Aborella. “I will fry you where you stand.”

  Aborella shot daggers at Eleanor. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Eleanor nodded at Ransom, who withdrew a strip of rolled parchment from the bag. Aborella’s heart stopped. The message she’d sent to Dianthe, it was there in his hand.

  To her dismay, he unrolled it and read her message aloud. “Beware. The forest has eyes. Don’t lose faith. I will help you.”

  “Ransom saw the bird fly from your window the very day you returned to us. Who will you help, Aborella? Which forest has eyes? What exactly should they beware of?” Eleanor took a step toward her, unblinking, like a tiger moving in for the kill.

  “I have no idea who wrote that—”

  “I shot the bird from the air directly.” Ransom stared down his nose at her. “No one else could have written it but you.”

  “It was your familiar, Aborella. The note is in your handwriting. Do not play games with me. Haven’t you learned yet that I make the rules, I hold all the pieces? You are either on my side or no side. Do you understand?” Eleanor barked the words, striding closer until she was towering over Aborella, her teeth bared. “Now tell me the truth! Who was the note intended for?”

  Aborella allowed the first lie that popped into her mind to slip off her tongue. “Merely a girl in the village who I promised to teach magic. Her father does not approve. We’ve been using the forest to practice.”

  Eleanor shook her head. Before Aborella could take her next breath, the empress’s magic coursed over her skin like liquid lightning, holding her in place. Talons gripped one of her wings. Sharp pain cut into the place the silver gossamer met her back.

  “I am so disappointed in you, Aborella. Do you know what I think? I think the time you spent in Everfield recovering has corrupted you. I think that message was meant for the friends you made there. I think you are helping the rebellion.”

  Helpless in the grip of Eleanor’s magic, Aborella’s panicked gaze pleaded with Ransom, but the guard barely looked at her. He seemed bored. His gaze drifted toward the window, the body of her familiar still dangling from his fingertips. There would be no help coming from his direction. There would be no help coming at all.

  “I haven’t told you the best part.” Eleanor’s voice was eerily quiet. She whispered the words through her teeth, directly into Aborella’s ear. “Since we couldn’t trust you and we weren’t sure who got into your head, we simply burned down the entire Empyrean Wood. Even as we speak, your home kingdom of Everfield is in ashes.”

  Hot, prickling tears stirred in Aborella’s vision. Was Dianthe okay? What about all the people, the children who’d danced around the fire during the waning festival the last night she was there? Were they all homeless now?

  “I am a generous empress,” Eleanor said through a fake pout. “I offered to annex Everfield and devote all of Paragon’s resources to rebuilding the territory, but alas, Chancellor Ciro is hell-bent on retaining their independence. I imagine it’s only a matter of time though before the population is so hungry they will beg to become ours.”

  Aborella felt the magic noose around her throat loosen by a fraction, and she gasped to cover a sob. “Eleanor, there’s been a mistake. It’s not what it seems.”

  “Then tell me now, Aborella. Where is the child?”

  Aborella closed her eyes. Days ago she’d seen where Raven and the others were heading, but she’d kept the vision secret, trying her best to protect the heirs until they reached safety. But now she had to convince Eleanor she was on her side. She fluttered her lashes and rolled her eyes back in her head, imitating what happened to her when she was seized by a vision.

  “I see the babe now. The family is on a ship, a sailboat traveling from Crete to the island of Aeaea. They have not arrived as of yet.”

  “Circe’s island?”

  Aborella nodded. “If my vision is correct, they have not reached the island’s shores. If you go now, you will intercept them.”

  Eleanor gave a divisive snort. “The one thing we know is we can’t count on your visions to be correct, can we?” Eleanor moved her talon from Aborella’s wing to her throat. “Ransom, take her to the dungeon. The back. The hottest cell.”

  “No! Please, I can’t help you without access to my magic!” Aborella spoke frantically. The dungeon was incredibly dark and hot, torture for a fairy such as herself. She’d do anything to avoid that fate.

  But Eleanor showed no mercy. “If you’ve told me the truth and my children are in fact on a ship to Aeaea, your visit to the dungeon will be short. We’ll follow up on this vision of yours. Pray I find the child. If I don’t, there will be hell to pay.”

  Ransom clamped cuffs around her wrists and shoved her out the door, her protests falling on deaf ears. Even as they descended to the place she’d personally seen prisoners go to die, she prayed—for Dianthe, for the Treasure of Paragon. Goddess help them. They were going to need it.

  Chapter Three

  “I think I see it!” Raven bounced her daughter, Charlie, on her hip and searched the horizon for the island of Aeaea, their promised sanctuary from those who wanted them dead, namely her mate’s mother, Eleanor, empress of Paragon. She’d only now noticed a jagged dark line on the horizon, far off in the distance. She stroked the blond curls back from Charlie’s forehead. “What do you think? That looks like a nice place to stay for a while, doesn’t it?”

  Charlie returned her smile, her blue eyes dancing in the sunlight. How the babe could smile after so many days and nights on the move, she had no idea. Their journey from London to Aeaea had required traveling by car, train, cruise ship, plane, and now a rickety wooden sailboat captained by Rowan’s mate, Nick, who thankfully had a sliver of experience sailing, although never a vessel like this. The ship appeared to be several hundred years old, a necessity in order to reach the island if the oreads on Crete were to be believed. Apparently Circe was wary of modern technology, and this boat increased their odds of being granted sanctuary by the goddess.

  “It shouldn’t be too much longer now.” Gabriel sidled up to her and handed Charlie a piece of lamb they’d brought from Crete. The babe grabbed the piece in her chubby hand and tore off a bite.

  Raven groaned. “I’m still not used to the idea that my newborn eats meat and that she prefers it raw.”

  Gabriel grinned. “Perfectly natural. You must remember, Raven, Charlie is a baby dragon—”

  “She’s also a witch.”

  “Normally our young learn to walk and then to fly in the first weeks outside the egg. Her development will far surpass that of a human child.”

  “Considering she was born less than a week ago but is developmentally equivalent to a six- or seven-month-old baby, I’d say that’s pretty obvious. It’s a lot for a new mother to adjust to.”

  He kissed her soundly on the cheek. “I think you are handling all this like a goddess. No dragon could ask for a better mother to their child.”

  Gabriel’s confidence in her exceeded what she had in herself, but she was determined to do her best, one day at a time. She kissed her daughter on the head. “Whatever you do, Charlie, it will be perfect, and I plan to cherish every moment.”

  Avery strode in their direction with fire in her eyes. “Not to interrupt what is obviously a beautiful family moment, but do you see that?” She pointed at the water between their boat and the island. A dark shape lingered under the surface.

  “It’s huge. Is that a rock?” Raven asked.

  Shaking her head, Avery led them to the side of the ship for a better view. “That is no rock. It’s moving. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Maybe it’s a whale,” Raven said hopefully.

  “Gabriel!” Tobias called from the other side of the ship. He pointed east. “We’ve got trouble.”

  Raven followed her mate’s line of sight to see two dragons in the distance, one solid
gold against the azure sky, the other silver like a fish. She swore with an intensity that made her want to cover Charlie’s ears. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Mother.” Gabriel removed his jacket. “Apparently killing Charlie was important enough to her to come herself. And I’m betting that’s the worm Ransom by her side.”

  Ribbons of terror wrapped around Raven and squeezed. She darted a glance toward the island, still too far away—the dragons were closing in fast. “How fast can you fly? If you get us to the island…”

  “Not fast enough. Besides, until we have Circe’s invitation, we won’t have her protection. It’s not enough to make it to shore.” He frowned. “We’ll have to hold Eleanor off.” He unbuttoned his shirt and cast it aside. She noticed his brothers and sister were doing the same. “Stay on the boat. Watch Charlie. We’ll take care of this. There are six of us and two of them.”

  “Be careful, Gabriel. Don’t underestimate her or her magic.” Raven was a powerful witch, but she hadn’t yet learned the limits of Eleanor’s dark abilities. Worse, she might not be able to help without physical proximity to the battle.

  Nathaniel piped up as he tossed his clothes aside. “Try to keep her in her dragon form. She can’t perform magic as her beast. We stand a bloody better chance at winning this if we can stop her from using it.”

  “Let’s fly.” Gabriel’s hands stretched toward the deck, scales shingling along his skin. He dove from the ship, finishing his transformation in midair. His black-and-emerald dragon swooped over the water and headed straight for his mother.

  Raven’s skin tightened and her jaw clenched. Six against two didn’t seem good odds when one of the two was a narcissistic psychopath. And if Aborella had helped Eleanor, who knew what wicked magical booby trap waited in store for her mate. With the fairy seer on Eleanor’s side, the empress knew what was coming. It was an unfair advantage.