Page 48 of Deadly Maiden (Dragons and Darkthings #1)

Wyntre

The Maw of Artreos spins past below as Rorsyd swoops across the sky, plunging through fluffy, ice-creamy clouds that look thick enough to eat.

“Wheeee!” I hold my arms out to better appreciate the rush of the wind over my body. It flutters through my coat and chills my legs and arms, despite my seat on the hottest dragonshifter ever.

“Settle down up there, you!” But Rorsyd bellows out a laugh. “Hang on with those sexy thighs, I’m descending to land soon.”

I pat his scaled shoulder, assuring him. “I will. It’s an awesome site this Maw.”

“Religious significance, remember. No doing anything lecherous on the rim.” He makes an obvious coughing noise.

“As if we would.”

He laughs again. “You don’t know me.”

I snort at that… Or is he serious? I haven’t heard from ID for a while. His inner dragon has the dirtiest ideas.

From my coat pocket, I pull out the booklet we purchased at Vancourter, clutching it tightly so it doesn’t blow away as I flick through to the right page. I crouch over it to read, shielding the paper from the vexatious wind.

“According to this, the crater is ten miles wide by about fourteen, and the bottom is judged to be fifteen miles deep. It is impossible to be sure of that due to the churning blue fog of etharum that covers the bottom. The edge of the Maw has a small river flowing over the side to the north, in a waterfall that goes all the way down, creating a lighter mist layer.”

“We should check in at Cloud Chalet before sightseeing.”

“If you want to, Rorsyd,” I say in a quiet voice, then I remember the noise of the flight and repeat that in a yell. “Hey! Has no one really ever climbed down? I mean, people do love to climb everything. And say they were first.” Not that I would. The idea gives me chills. I’m not scared of heights, but falling fifteen miles bothers me.

“Wait until we land.” He cups his wings and begins to drop faster.

Trees are rushing up though he’s aiming for a cleared patch. I hold onto his tendril, brace myself for the bump followed by the small run he always does to stop.

Even so, I gasp a few times. Then I slide and climb down, hop off onto the cropped grass. A few brown-and-white goats bleat at us before resuming munching on the grass beneath the trees. The rim of the Maw is visible past the trunks and branches. An adjacent road we flew over goes up to the chalet perched on a hill overlooking the Maw.

Rorsyd closes his eyes, shakes, and goes through that eye-popping transformation where he turns inside-out and blurs. He immediately jogs to where he left our bags, rummaging to find his pants, boots, coat and shirt.

As he dresses, I admire his body and give a wolf whistle just to get him to react. He jogs over and taps me on the ass.

“Want to know a secret about the Maw?”

“Sure.” I walk alongside him as we head up the road, our bags slung over his shoulder.

“A dragonshifter dove, or fell in, during the Wars of the Monsters.”

“Oh my. Let me guess. Dead?”

“No, but he did vanish into the blue fog, and he never came out. Some say he was on the side of the demonancers and already slain by the sword.”

“Yikes. A sword killing a dragon seems unlikely.” I grab his free hand. “So that was four hundred and seventy years ago? Well, there goes that idea of mine of exploring it.”

He chuckles.

The owner of the chalet is standing out the front with a pair of gardening shears on his shoulder. He’s a middle-aged goatshifter, with a triangular, grey beard and prominent ears, a rare species of fae. It explains the goats near the road, since goatshifters have an affinity with the animals.

The exterior looks well loved and pretty, with the high-angled roof, the elaborate if small garden, and recent applications of bright paint on the walls.

“My wife is off preparing meals.” He shakes our hands.

He’s been pruning a hedge but takes us inside up the timber steps to a reception desk. The place has ten bedrooms for guests and only five are occupied.

“Slow season,” he tells us as he shows us up the pale-timbered internal stairs to our room.

It’s large but with two separate beds. I can see us pushing those together.

Mr. Tivaldi is talkative and ready to drag us downstairs for lunch. We chat for a while but beg off the lunch. A picnic today is our goal, before dusk falls.

“A picnic basket then?” he offers. “I can have the cook make you one.”

“That sounds perfect.” I smile at him.

“You have a letter, too, delivered yesterday by messenger bird and from the palace at Tensorga. I must say I am impressed. May your stay here be peaceful. May Artreos bless you.” He clasps his hands and gives us a small bow.

Since we came here via the islands of Vorple, south of Orencia, there has been time for new developments back in Zardrake. I hope it’s nothing worrisome.

“Thank you.” Rorsyd accepts the letter and the basket when they arrive, and we traipse back down the road in the direction Tivadi told us is best to get views of the Maw that are also private.

After twenty minutes of serenity, solitude, and heavenly walking hand in hand with Rorsyd, we find the recommended place on the edge of the Maw. Wrens and honeyeaters are chirping in the trees shading us, and two palm-sized, blue butterflies swoop and flutter between drooping red flowers.

We spread out a blanket beneath the trees, and I’m smoothing its last curled edges, when Rorsyd pushes me flat then rolls me onto my back. “Heyyy,” I whisper, wriggling.

He presses on my shoulders until I remain still. Breathless already, everywhere on my body tingles and awakens with need.

“Such a good little necro princess.” Eyes crinkling, he smirks down at me, predatory and sexy, then he kisses down my front. Slowly, he unbuttons and parts my clothes, undressing me as he shifts down my body. My moans and whispered noises escalate, words morph into gasps and the arching of my back. He kisses my stomach, trailing further down to my aching pussy, then he pulls the last of my clothes past my ass, to my knees.

Heart thudding, I watch him, squirming my ass at the nearness of him…then he runs a fingertip down the seam of my lower lips, deeper, between my legs.

I shudder out a moan and arch again, and he pushes my thighs flat.

Using fingers and mouth, he devotes himself to bringing me teetering to the edge of orgasm, even before he even has my leggings fully removed.

“Come up here,” I croak at him, desperate, grabbing the back of his hair. “Please.”

He cruises his gaze up the length up my body, meets my eyes. “I like the sound of that please.”

With the waterfall roaring distantly in the background, we make slow wonderful love.

There is no one else for a mile in any direction.

I stretch out afterward, naked except for the coat I’ve put back on. After pulling on his pants, Rorsyd nestles in beside me.

“It’s a little cold up here. Look.” I push back the sleeve and show him my goosebumps.

Sitting up on his elbow, he places kisses on my forearm then lifts my hand so he can kiss my fingers too. “I haven’t heated you up enough?” He tilts my head toward him and delivers a slow, toe-curling kiss.

“ Mmm . Perhaps.” I draw a line down his jaw and return the kiss, my heartbeat still hastened, then we snuggle in and keep each other warm. Well, he’s unlikely to be cold. I’m the one needing warmth.

The flowers’ fragrance drifts, and the leaves rustle as they fall.

The world seems to slow and catch its own breath, splashing casual bursts of sunlight through the green foliage overhead.

Due to the mild slope of the land, when I turn on my side, I can see across the Maw and even some of its throat below the rim. I wriggle backward across the blanket until I’m spooning into his body. He wraps his arm over me below my breasts.

“Mr. Tivaldi also agreed that’s etharum at the bottom.” I hold up Rorsyd’s hand so I can see it interlaced with mine, then bring it to my breast.

“Yes. The etharum was discovered centuries ago, according to Sister Paloma.”

She did recommend coming here, if we were flying to Wenway. “I missed hearing that.”

“And the level is going down, year by year. Which worries her. There’s a temple of the Sisters of Artreos on the other side.”

Idly I reply. “Oh?”

“Believe it or not, this is my first visit to the Maw, though I’ve overflown it many times.”

“I keep forgetting you’re really old.”

He snorts but I sit up and push on his shoulder, encourage him to lie on his back.

Then I sprawl out across his chest and turn my cheek to his skin. “I like hearing your heart.”

“Well, it is yours now, you know.”

“I know.” I smile and do lazy sketches on him with my forefinger.

“Though if you keep calling me old, I may have to rescind that ownership. I am only four hundred and twenty years young.” He sighs. “You are a bad girl.”

I giggle.

“You should do that more. Laugh.” He levers up his head and looks down at me. “I like hearing you laugh, after the dark times we’ve had.”

“I promise I will.” His words have turned too serious. “I want to see the very edge of the edge. Let’s get dressed and go look. Then we can check out what’s in the picnic basket.”

“Sure. First though, we should read that letter.” He sits up then searches for it in his coat and finds it, unfolds it. “It is from Paloma. Dear Rorsyd and Wyntre, my favorite two people at the moment. ” He opens his eyes wide, looks at me. “Is she being funny there? Anyway. Reading on. I have news of Jannik Stryke. I thought you would be interested. He was seen on the coast below Tensorga, swimming out to sea .”

“Definitely interesting. Go on.”

Rorsyd finds his place in the letter. “ He appears to have then been sighted on the coast where you now reside, below Vancourter. The temple there contacted me. There is a rumor among the local people that he has been possessed by something called a kleech.

Yours, Sister Paloma. ”

“He is here? A kleech is the creature you killed at the graveyard.” I frown at him as I gather and pull up my leggings. “There is more writing on the back.”

He flips the page. “Let me see. Two paragraphs. First part. PS If you wish to, perhaps you could help in the search? Ask at a Temple of Artreos. Second part is harder to read…”

“Is that an invitation to help the king? I am in favor of that. It might be dangerous, if he is possessed by a kleech.” I pull on my shirt and start buttoning it.

“Definitely, in answer to both. We shouldn’t?” Yet he sounds curious. And the thrill of danger seems to have clung to my bones.

“We shouldn’t, but it is tempting. Maybe after we have a small holiday here and visit Saphora, if they haven’t found him by then? And the second part?”

He smooths the page. “I can’t read it, though it looks signed by the king?” He hands it to me. “Can you read that?”

I decipher the words. It’s scribbled sloppily. “Asher has terrible writing. Oh. Oh dear. Damn.” I reread it to myself, sucking on my lip.

“What?” He comes over and leans on my shoulder, tries again to read the words.

“Get off.” But I don’t move, I just smile. Besides… “It is from the king and says, Kyvin says hello and thank you so much for all you did for me. We are negotiating, with the queen of Wenway, for a royal visit. Of course, we have conveyed to her that we hope to help search for Jannik. If you want to come visit us, please do. Just tell Sister Paloma first. Then there is this sketch…” I clear my throat of the blockage that’s turned up. “He’s drawn a cat and a ball and labelled it Anathema.” I swallow then sniffle back tears.

“That is adorable. I am almost speechless.”

Anathema appears at my other elbow, and I angle the page toward him. He cocks his head and squints with one eye. “You can’t read, silly.”

Then he sticks out his tongue and licks the page.

Maybe he can, or he read it through my mind?

“He has a tongue?” Sounding amused, Rorsyd shakes his head.

“I’ve never seen it before, either. Your old friend is happy, Anathema.”

It’s an odd situation, telling a darkthing cat about its undead friend, but I feel a wonderful lightness as he gambols off to the rim to sit there, an ethereal black cat, contemplating life.

“We should find him another undead to play with,” Rorsyd says. “Now where are my boots?”

I could do that? An interesting idea but I’d have to know they were nice to cats first…before they died. Hmmm. Will shelve that as a dubious maybe.

So somehow Kyvin has survived in a way, a way I cannot quite understand, but I am so happy for him…them.

Once we are both dressed and have joined Anathema at the edge, the sun is poking around on the horizon and turning the sky pink, and the Maw masks itself in gloom, its colors changing to grays and muted pastels.

I stand there with my soulmate, thoroughly impressed by this freak of nature. I can see why those who worship our world, Artreos, would regard the Maw as being of religious significance. I, too, might be converted if I stayed here long enough, staring out over this void.

“It must have its own weather,” I say quietly. “Down below.”

Vertigo might be a problem if I go closer to the edge. I do it anyway. Small rocks come loose and roll to the lip and spill, bouncing out over this vast hole. Rorsyd wraps his hand around my upper arm.

I am not afraid—a side effect of throwing myself into so much peril? I think it’s more because I am beside my dragonshifter soulmate.

“Magnificent comes to mind,” he says. “Grand. Stunning. I could use a whole thesaurus.”

“Yes, oh yes. A bit too quiet though? If the king comes here, there is our excuse to do two things at once, maybe three things? Visit Saphora and him, and help look for his brother.”

“And your Anathema would love to see Asher-Kyvin-Madlin. What a mouthful. I can fly to Vancourter in a few hours, you know?”

“Yes. I do know.” I smile up at him and move nearer so I can rest my head against him, my big, bad, beautiful soulmate. “Seems like we have many things to keep us busy in the future.”

He stretches his hands before him and silently counts to three on his fingers. “And four, visit my hoard. Five, make love to you on the mountaintop there, after I tie you up and make you come a thousand times.”

I snort and poke his ribs.

“That’s ID’s idea. You don’t like it?”

I wrap both my arms around his biceps and squeeze him there and lean in again. “Anything. I just want to try anything and everything, but with you. We can fly around the world a hundred times, if you want to.”

“Good answer.” He sighs and leans into me. We remain there, together, looking out across the mist-drenched Maw while the sun descends the rim. Soon it will be below where our fae eyes can discern it and night will fall.

The first firefly bobs and weaves into view.