Page 174 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection

Chapter 173

"Brom!”

I threw myself off Darkspire’s back. Glimmer came with me, flying at my side, but I could barely focus on her progress, not when the two of them lay there like that. It was lucky I was wearing leather pants because I dropped and skidded across the ground as soon as I got close. My hands rose, wanting to do something, anything, but what? Brom was too pale, too limp, too… I shook my head, forcing myself to get it together before reaching out.

“Don't touch him!” Draven’s snap had my head whipping around. He looked far too pale, his eyes blazing bright blue. “I’m sorry, Pippin, but his neck…” A low groan had us both turning back to see Brom’s eyelids flutter open. “Dear gods…”

“Gods… above.”

Brom’s reply was so faint we barely heard him, but something had me leaning forward. Draven threw himself down beside our lover, his hand taking Brom’s.

“Brom…” I heard Draven’s voice break, which had my own throat working in sympathy, trying to dislodge the lump there. I couldn’t breathe, not until I saw that Brom was.

“Draven, we need to?—”

“Obsidian!”

My hands fluttered through the air, useless as Brom forced himself upwards, letting out an alarming cough before pushing himself upwards. I soon worked out why. I hadn’t heard a dragon ever make a sound like this before, and I never wanted to again. Just a low keen with each breath, like a child that had cried itself out and had no more tears to shed. I had plenty, my eyes filling as I walked towards the dragon. Obsidian tried to raise his head, then his wing, and was only successful with one. His wing flapped helpless against the ground like a downed flag.

“Lad…” Brom held his hands out and I watched the shake. “I know it hurts.”

Obsidian let out a high-pitched sound in response. It wasn’t that which alerted me to what the dragon was going through, because a connection snapped into place.

His wing felt like a fire that just wouldn’t be put out. Every movement tore something deeper inside him, but what else could he do? The projectile had to be removed. A downed dragon was a dead one. He wouldn’t be able to fly, to hunt, to mate with Glimmer when she was grown. That’s why he kept flailing around, trying to work out how to right that wrong, fix the issue.

“ Settle, lad,” Brom said in a low, comforting voice, and I knew exactly how that felt, because he’d used it on me often enough. It told you that he was in charge and knew exactly what to do.

Except he didn’t.

When Obsidian stopped moving, Brom placed his hands on the wing joint. Either through luck or extraordinary skill, the assailant had managed to immobilise Obsidian’s wing.

“You did this for me.” Draven’s voice was like a plucked lute string, vibrating with tension. “You put Obsidian in the ballista’s way.”

“Of course I did it for you.” Brom ground that out with barely a terse look sideways, his hands running up and down his dragon’s wing. The javelin was still lodged there and everything in me wanted to wrench it free and damn the consequences. Dragons were huge, invulnerable creatures. It hurt my heart to see one brought down so low.

“I didn’t need?—”

“Yes, you did.” Brom whirled around, eyes flashing with much the same light as his dragon’s. There was something pained and desperate in both of them. Glimmer scrambled up Obsidian’s side, and right as I went to tell her not to, the dragon seemed to relax. He settled against the ground with a sigh, as she began to hum.

“You did. You were preoccupied with making those bastards pay and you weren’t watching your back!”

Brom seemed to be recovering his strength by the second, advancing on Draven, which drew me closer. I needed to step in, support, arbitrate, something.

Except that wasn’t what was needed.

“And you were there.” Draven’s tone softened a little as Brom’s brows creased. The wing commander shook his head, but my king forged on. “You’ve always been there.”

“I was just doing my job.”

Brom turned away from our king and went limping towards me, but Draven wouldn’t be denied. His hand whipped out, clamping down on the other man’s forearm. I watched the two of them struggle, each fighting the other, when I remembered what Glimmer kept telling me. Males protect and queens let them, but I think we had a far more important role.

Glimmer leaned in, pressing her head against Obsidian’s, the black dragon’s eyes falling closed then, his breathing slowing. Darkspire lumbered forward, joining the two of them, his deep hum providing a counterpoint to Glimmer’s sweeter sound. The glow of her scales, it was more than the last of the sunlight filtering through the trees to focus on her. She’d healed me back at Brom’s family estate, and now she would do the same for her mate. That was our role, to heal breaches, physical, mental, and emotional, and that’s what I tried to do right now.

One hand went to Draven’s shoulder, stopping him from forcing the issue, the other more gently sliding up Brom’s arm. I needed to feel my husband for myself, check every inch of him for injuries and kiss each one away, but first this.

“How’s your head, your neck?” I asked, dimly aware that a fall like this could prove fatal if Brom’s spine was damaged.

“I’m not sure I can feel either of them right now,” he rasped out in answer.

“Then perhaps I need to check?” My hand slid up, feeling the warmth of his skin when I reached his collar, then the raw silk of his hair. Fingers spidered across his scalp, but when I found no evidence of blood, they strayed down to the strong line of his jaw.

“Much better,” he said, taking my hand in his and pressing a kiss to the palm. “But we need to see to Obsidian’s wing.”

Draven stared at Brom with wide eyes, seeing something he didn’t before, but he nodded.

“Unfortunately, this is something I have experience with. My brother’s dragon…” He swallowed and then took a deep breath in. “The javelin has to be pushed through.”

“Surely we pull it out,” Brom argued.

“The head is buried in his wing joint.” Obsidian’s breathing was coming faster, even as his eyes remained closed. “It’s shaped like an arrowhead, so the tang will be forced to dig in deeper if we try to pull it out.” Draven shot the dragon a wary eye. “If Obsidian was a man, I’d use others to hold him down as we pushed the spear head through. I’m not sure how the hell we’ll do that with a massive dragon.”

“I do.”

My lips moved, my feet taking me closer to the three dragons, though I’m not sure why. I had no conscious idea about how to help and yet somehow there I was, standing before Obsidian’s muzzle, feeling his warm breath brush over me as I reached for the crystal eggs that found themselves in every one of my pockets.

An egg is a symbol of potential, of new beginnings, because until it hatches, who knew what would come out? I didn’t think the dragonstone was carved into this shape for any specific reason other than what it represented. Hatchlings were dragonkind’s future and so this informed their decision to create stone eggs. The past was embedded within them, memories, events that would’ve been otherwise lost with each generation, but Tanis’ vision made clear that the future was also contained within them. I grabbed several of the intact ones, then went to nick the scab on my finger when Glimmer intervened.

No .

Her eyes travelled to the horror of Obsidian’s wound, forcing me to stare at the way the metal had pierced his flesh.

And the sluggish flow of his blood.

I didn’t know what touching it would do to me. I think my men also had concerns, as I dimly heard them say something as I drew closer. It didn’t stop me from swiping my fingers through several drops of blood, the substance making the tips tingle, the only warning I got as I was hit by this.

Pain, it sizzled through me, striking out with an unpredictable crackle, just like Obsidian’s lightning, and with it came him. Dragons were immense creatures and their minds were just as big. He noted our connection instantly with all the focus of a predator, trying to pull free, because he wanted to protect me from what he was feeling.

He was a proud creature, the veteran of many a skirmish in the channel between Nevermere and the continent. Each time Brom saddled him up and led him out across the waves, he fulfilled an ancient purpose. His rider’s head was filled with orders and directives from the general, but Obsidian felt quite differently about their missions.

The memories of his ancestors went with him each time they came across a ship. When they set it on fire, wracked it with lightning, they did so to send a message. Nevermere was their territory and they would protect it with their very lives, ensuring no one else other than the humans they shared this island with reached its shores.

So why did one shoot him down?

The concept of war was a fuzzy one to him. He expected to meet the traitor dragons in the sky, use fangs and claws to show them the error of their ways, then drop the battered bodies of their enemies before his queen.

Not this.

Not a cowardly attack without warning. Not by the humans he sought to protect. His chest was heaving now, with pain, with shame, with confusion and a growing sense of betrayal until my hand went out.

Easy. Great silver eyes flicked open and stared into mine. Easy, Obsidian. He stared at me closely, as if he wasn’t sure whether I was one of the good humans or bad, but he remembered me quickly enough.

Pippin… His voice was like a sigh exhaled in a great cave. Glimmer’s girl. I smiled and nodded. Brom’s mate.

Just so , I said with a nod. Now, everyone is very concerned about you. He didn’t like that, trying to rally, trying to get back on his feet and into the sky, proving his worth, but I pressed down on the hard plane between his eyes. And they want to help.

He helped. He protected Glimmer, made sure no one came within ten feet of her. He rode beside Darkspire to fight those capable of stealing dragon eggs, ready to eradicate them lest they think to do the same to Glimmer’s clutch when she bore them. He’d seen the ballista’s bolt before Brom had, flying forward to intercept it because he knew how Brom would feel if Draven fell. He tried to stop it, burn the javelin before it got close enough to strike, but it moved too fast. Every muscle had strained, but he failed.

He failed.

No. I choked back a sob. Perhaps the general was right to suggest I stay behind, because one fight in and I was already done with this war. No, Obsidian. You protected us with your life. Glimmer and Darkspire’s song grew to a feverish pitch, every nerve in my body vibrating. You kept them safe, and now we will help you.

Quickly, I showed him what I thought the men meant, a vision of them shoving the javelin through his wing joint. I tried very hard to mask how I expected him to respond, the resulting pain, but that’s not how this worked. Obsidian wasn’t a child. He was a dragon, and he stared into my eyes, knowing what was coming and then nodding slightly.

“I’ll be fast, lad,” Brom said. “Fast as I can. Then we’ll get you some medical care.” His head whipped around as he spoke to Draven. “Where the hell are the healers?”

“Out looking for us, I hope,” Draven said, then stepped forward. “Obsidian, I can show you what we need to go. I’ve…” His breath caught in his chest. “I’ve done it before. You’ll come out of this in one piece. You’ll heal from this wound. I want to tell you that this won’t hurt you further.”

But he couldn’t.

Obsidian’s head rose until it was level with Draven’s.

Do what you must.