“Weird?”
“Yeah. I never tuck mine in for Urian. Rather I use him as a sharpening strop.”
“That’s the truth. She lets blood every time she gets near me.”
Falcyn bristled under her probing stare. “We’re dragons, not Daimons.”
Medea went cold at his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re cold-blooded. The only warmth we have is our family, so we tend to shelter them more closely than others do. Why? What did you think I meant?”
“She thought you were taking a dig that we feed off each other’s blood.”
Falcyn snorted. “Oh … there is that. Honestly, hadn’t thought about it. Or I might have pointed it out.”
Brogan glanced at them before she leaned in closer to Blaise. “They always carry on like this?”
“Not really. They just met.”
“Yet they argue like a married couple … hmmm.”
Falcyn summoned another fireball for the witch.
Medea caught his arm before he could launch it. “Barbecue her, Simi, and we’re stuck here with no way back.”
“Not stuck. Just detained.”
“Yeah, well, I need to get home. Can’t afford to be detained any longer than necessary. So tuck the fire and temper, princess, and be nice.”
“I’m never nice,” he said sullenly.
He didn’t even like the sound of that four-lettered word. Hmmm, maybe there was some Simi in him, after all.
Suddenly, Brogan stopped.
Falcyn scowled at her as she cocked her head. “There a problem?”
Her eyes turned a peculiar color that defied all description. It was a strange fey hue that said she was tapping arcane powers to read their environment.
With the faintest whisper in her voice, she spoke. “Death is upon us.”
4
Before Falcyn had a chance to ask Brogan what she meant, the ground around them began to boil. Literally. Chunks of soil bubbled and churned as if it were a living, breathing creature about to rise up under their feet.
Medea cursed as she danced around it to avoid being tripped. Likewise, he jumped over a segment of the ground that burst beneath him. It shot chunks of earth, grass, and mud everywhere.
“What the hell is this? I’m too old for hopscotch.”
Brogan gasped as she jumped over another erupted rut. “Svartle Orms. Whenever the smiths break for the day, the orms are let loose from the forges and they stampede to freedom.”
The head of one ugly, foul beast came up from the ground. It opened its mouth, showing off rows of serrated fangs.
“They’re also starving,” Brogan added. “And will eat anything they catch the scent to.”
“Not on your menu, buddy.” Falcyn let loose his fireballs into the beast’s throat.
Howling, it lunged for him.
Medea fell in at his side, adding god-bolts to his fire to help fry the bastard. Urian and Blaise covered Brogan.
“What should we do?” Blaise asked her.
Brogan lifted her arms and began to whistle gently. The crooning went through Falcyn, making his sensitive ears ache. Blaise made a sound of sharp disapproval.
Still, she continued. Until it began to drive the orms back. “Run!” she said. “Head for the boulder caves! They won’t enter there.”
As they started for them, a cold wind came whipping through the trees.
“Ignore it and keep going! Don’t look up. Eyes ahead!”
Don’t look up? Was she kidding? Now it became an imperative need to do so. But conventional wisdom said it would be all kinds of stupid to defy Brogan’s order.
All kinds of—
Crap!
Falcyn glanced up before he could stop himself.
And the moment he did, fire rained down from the sky.
Not just fire. Rocks. Lava. And some kind of stinging larvae.
Brogan made a sound of supreme disgust. “What part of don’t look up did you not understand, dragon!”
“The part that it’s a dragon’s nature to do what we’re told not to!”
Blaise cursed and swatted at the bugs. “What are these things?”
“Bloodvlox. Don’t let them break your skin or they can infect you and take you over. If they land near your ears, they can crawl inside and ingest your brains! And keep them away from your eyes, too.”
Medea hissed and slapped at one that was trying to burrow under her skin. “How do we get rid of them?”
“Fleabane, but I don’t have any on me and can’t conjure any until we get away from the orms.” Brogan swatted at them. “I’ll boost your powers so that you can teleport to the caves over there. It should be enough to get you to safety. But you’ll have to do it fast, before they catch on and you lose the ability again.”
Growling at the thought of blindly trusting her, Falcyn glanced around and decided there was no other out. “All right. On three, we teleport to just in front of the caves.” And if she was lying or betrayed them, he’d eat her whole. “Ready?”
“Ready!” they said in unison.
Falcyn counted down.
On one they went, but just as he started to follow, an orm grabbed his leg. He turned on the creature and caught it with his claw, wishing he could give it what it really deserved.
His dragon’s venom.
He stomped and kicked until he broke free, then he teleported, making sure he didn’t take any stray beast with him, since that could cause its DNA to merge with his—something he definitely didn’t want to happen. He was damaged enough. His luck, he’d sprout another arm or head.
Or another piece of anatomy he didn’t want to think about duplicating, because one was enough to get him into all manner of trouble. It definitely didn’t need a twin.
Especially not around Medea.
By the time he made the cave and retook a solid form, the howling had picked up volume and the fleas were stinging even more as they swarmed him the moment he was solid again. Blaise whipped at them with his shirt while Medea jerked Falcyn inside by the arm.
Urian used his powers to seal them in the cave.
Teamwork …
He shuddered. It gave him the willies. He’d never really bought into that. Dragons were solitary creatures, and while he’d fought with his brothers a handful of times, it wasn’t enough that it left him comfortable with such things. And definitely not when surrounded by this many strangers.
“Can the orms find us in here?” Falcyn asked while Blaise pulled his shirt back on.
Brogan shook her head. “But there are others who can. The forges are all in places similar to this … as are their homes. It’s why the orms avoid them when they’re free.”
“Awesome,” Urian breathed. “Are the portals here, too?”
“Not close by. That would be too easy.”
Of course it would.
Urian growled. “You think if I called for Acheron he might hear me and come to the rescue?”
“You can try.” Falcyn waited.
After a few seconds, Urian growled again. “It was worth a shot.”
“Anyone know a dark elf?” Falcyn glanced to Blaise, who made it his habit to party with them.
“None that I want to call. Thank you very much. Want to knock up Narishka?”
Falcyn glared at him. “I knocked up her sister. It’s what got us into this, remember?”
“Ha, ha, ha, American slang. You suck so much,” Blaise whimpered.