Page 36 of The Magic of Pemberley (Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mage #2)

Chapter 36

D arcy followed Jack through the illusions that guarded the Nest, trying not to wince at the prospect of walking straight through a stone cliff. It gave way before him, though, and suddenly he was inside a chamber decorated with glass mosaics. A large dragon sat coiled in it, her bronze scales glinting with ruby highlights, lacking the head crest that would mark a male. “You succeeded, then,” she said approvingly to Jack.

Jack gave her a lazy mock salute. “And returned as promised.” He seemed to have recovered from his shock over the news Darcy had given him.

“I never doubted that. But what have we here?” The dragon turned her attention to Darcy. “You do not look well, even for a mortal.”

“He is my brother, astonishingly enough,” Jack said. “The bastards beat him, and he is in a good deal of pain, though he would rather die than admit to it. Would you be willing to heal him?”

Darcy opened his mouth to protest that it was not so bad, but then he snapped it shut. If this dragon was willing to heal his wounds, he would be glad of it. He had no desire to appear before Elizabeth covered in bruises, with his eye nearly swollen shut.

The dragon brought her gold-circled eyes near his face. “Do you wish that, young mortal? ”

“I would be grateful, but first I must deliver a warning. The soldiers are close to discovering your Nest.”

The dragon ducked her head. “The woman who came before you told us. It is why I am standing guard here.”

“You never mentioned any of this to me!” cried Jack.

“We do not wish to worry you, Little One. You will be kept safe, no matter what.”

“I would still want to know!”

Little One? The dragon called Jack Little One? Oh, how his brother must hate that! “But there is more. Napoleon is himself a shape shifter.”

A cloud of darkness seemed to fill the chamber. “So your Nest has informed us. The Eldest will wish to speak more to you of this. But first, allow me to make you well.”

“You are very generous. What should I do?”

“Simply look into my eyes.” Her aura shifted to one of comforting. She raised her forelegs and brought them together so that the heels of her talons rested on his cheeks, warm and heavy with magic.

He nearly staggered as a powerful presence flowed into him and spiraled down into his chest. It paused by his broken rib with a burst of heat, and suddenly the pain there was gone. Then the magic found his bullet wound. It lingered longer this time, tracing the path the bullet had taken, before traveling down his arms, first one and then the other. The purple bruises on his hands faded to yellow before disappearing entirely.

But she was not done. The power moved through his legs and then back up his body to circle through his skull. It was everywhere, his ears, his nose, even his eyeballs. Now he could open his eyes fully again. As the magic slowly withdrew, his face felt cool with the absence of her touch.

Her aura, though, was sad. “I am very sorry about the wound in your shoulder. It is better, but I could not fix it fully.”

Yet the constant ache there was much lessened. And most amazing of miracles, the fingers of his right hand moved when he commanded them to. He bent his elbow, raising his forearm. It seemed as heavy as lead, but it moved. His arm worked !

“This…” He said brokenly, his voice trembling. “This is so much better. It is an amazing gift.” He turned his hand over and back just because he could. Never had the prohibition against giving thanks to a dragon been harder to keep.

“I am happy that I could help, though I wish I could do more.”

“This is beyond anything I ever hoped for.”

Jack said gaily, “Excellent! Coquelicot is the finest healer in the Nest, and she loves doing it. We are all in disgustingly good health because of her.”

“Mortals are very satisfying to heal,” the dragon allowed. “You break so easily.”

Darcy flexed his hand again. It did not close completely, but surely it would grow stronger with time. Even if it did not, he might be able to write again, to hold his reins properly, to carry his child. “I am forever in your debt. If there is any service, however small that I can ever do for you, I pray you to ask it.”

Her aura turned to pleased embarrassment. “Go to the Eldest, then. The Little One will take you. I must remain at my post.”

Yes. He needed to pass on his information, since Elizabeth did not know what the soldiers had told him. He should share the memories of the sea serpents, too. And as eager as he was to see Elizabeth again, to reassure her he was well, he would be glad of the opportunity to steal a little more time with Jack first.

At the Gate, Darcy shook Jack’s hand. Two astonishments at once, that Jack was alive and so was Darcy’s hand. “We will meet again,” he said fiercely. “If nothing else, when the war ends, I will come back to see you.”

“I will look forward to it. I would tell you to give everyone my greetings, but I know you cannot.”

And it was true, because the Eldest had laid another binding on him. “It is not fair.” He hated the idea of leaving Georgiana and his mother believing Jack was dead, but what choice did he have? Not that he could truthfully tell them Jack was safe, with the Nest about to come under attack.

Jack clapped his arm. “Many things in life are unfair. Now go, before Saxifrage here gets impatient.” He nodded to the small green dragon by the Gate.

Darcy nodded and strode toward the ring of sparkling air that marked the Gate. What would it feel like? Determinedly he stepped over the threshold of the shimmering space. Soon he would be with Elizabeth again.

It felt like nothing at all. No resistance. Not even the air was different. The chamber looked exactly the same.

He turned to look back, and there Jack stood staring at him in shock.

“What happened? Why am I still here?” Darcy asked. Disappointment rushed through him, along with fear. How could he get home if the Gate did not work?

Jack turned up his hands and shrugged. “What is the matter?” he asked the dragon.

“Curious.” The dragon carefully reached out a talon to the edge of the Gate. Sparks flew from it. He picked up a metal rod and pushed it into the shimmering air. Half of it disappeared. When he drew it back again, it became whole. “The Gate is working, but it will not take him.”

“Why not?” Jack asked.

“I cannot say. He is not a companion, but he is your brother, is he not? You came through the Gate with no difficulty.”

“I came through…” Jack sounded shocked. “Never mind that; how can we get Will home?”

The dragon moved his head from side to side. “That I cannot say. The Eldest might know, or Gentiane or Renoncule. They understand the Gate better than I.”

“Come, Will. We need some answers.”

Darcy could not agree more. It had never crossed his mind that the Gate would fail, leaving him stranded in the mountains of France to face an impending battle.

Darcy picked up a metal sculpture of a strange fae creature with a horse’s forequarters and the tail of a fish. Jack’s quarters had several of these, with mosaics on the wall similar to those he had seen in the Dark Peak Nest. Not the sort of thing he would have expected Jack to like. The room was bare of anything that indicated his brother’s personality. Two battered books lay on the table beside the bed. Darcy flipped through them: a history of France and a tome on metallurgy, both in French. Jack’s tastes usually ran more to travel guides and novels.

Had Jack been brought here with nothing but the clothes on his back? That would account for the lack of personal touches.

It had been nearly an hour since Jack had left him here while he sought information about the Gate. They had tried doing it together, but the first dragon they found flatly refused to speak in front of an unknown mortal, so his brother decided to try on his own.

Finally Jack appeared, pushing aside the blanket that hung over the entryway. Apparently dragons had little sense of privacy, so Jack must have improvised. He did not look pleased.

“What did you learn?” Darcy asked.

His brother scowled. “Nothing. They are all too busy making plans to protect the Nest. When I pressed, the Eldest suggested you travel by land instead.”

“If it were that simple, I would have done so months ago!” Darcy said explosively. Dammit, if that was the best the dragons could offer, he would have been better off staying with Mme. Hartung and hoping to reach Prussia eventually.

If it were just a matter of delay, he could tolerate it for himself, but Elizabeth must be frantic. “Could I at least send a message through the Gate to reassure my wife that she is not a widow? My wife believes I am still a prisoner of the French, if not dead. ”

“I assume so, if your Nest will deliver it to her.” Jack reached into a small desk and pulled out paper from a drawer. “You can use this. See how the dragons spoil me? They sent out one of their Kith specifically to get this for me. Not that I can write to anyone, but keeping a journal helps preserve my sanity in this place.”

“Thank you.” Darcy sat at the desk.

Jack winced. “I have obviously been here too long. Even hearing thanks makes me edgy. Speaking English tastes strange in my mouth. I even dream in French these days. Still, it is far better than one of Napoleon’s prisoner camps, which would likely have been my fate otherwise.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Write your letter, and I will go talk to Coquelicot, the healer you met. I doubt she knows much about the Gate, but she usually makes time for me.”

Darcy nodded as he took up the well-sharpened quill and dipped it in the inkwell. “Good luck.”

As the blanket swished behind Jack, Darcy wrote in a shaky but legible hand, “My dearest Elizabeth…”

Jack returned with the news that the healer dragon wished to see Darcy. When the two brothers arrived, Coquelicot asked, “How is that arm?”

“A little sore, which is hardly surprising, since I did not use it for so long. But it works, which is all I ask.” Even if it was a long way from his usual strength.

“Ah, good. Now, the Little One has been telling me about your other problem. Is it true you cannot return to your home any other way?”

“Not without risking my life.”

She tilted her head. “I do not know why the Gate refused you, nor why you would lack enough dragon blood when it allowed the Little One through. Still, there may be a way around it. You could attempt to create the lesser bond with one of us. Then the Gate should see you as a companion and allow you through.”

His experiences to date with dragon magic did not warm him to the concept. “What is the lesser bond?” he asked with reluctance.

“It is similar to the companion bond, but temporary and with no sharing of Talent. We use it when a dragon with no companion wishes to take a short journey. With the lesser bond, they can travel away from the Nest with a human, as long as they return promptly.”

Roderick had done something like that when the dragons set the wards at Pemberley, though the Welshman was far more comfortable with bonds than Darcy would ever be. But getting home to Elizabeth would be worth it. “What would I need to do?”

She stared at the floor for a long moment, her talons clicking together. Finally she said, “With a young dragon, it is a simple matter, only requiring a little of your blood. But all our youngsters are trying to bond elsewhere to escape the upcoming battle. No, I will do it myself, but with great care, for my blood is too strong for a mortal body. There are reasons why only young dragons take companions; when they are older, the blood bond would destroy a mortal’s mind, if not kill him outright.” Her aura settled into one of determination.

Blood. Of course it had to involve a blood bond. “Can you do that?”

“I believe so, yes.” Another thoughtful pause. “I will need time to make a tincture for the lesser bond. A few days, perhaps. Are you willing?”

For any other dragon, he would have hesitated, if not outright refused, to do blood magic. But she had healed him and given him the use of his arm again. “Will it harm me?”

“No more than any other bloodletting. When you take the tincture, it may make you queasy, or perhaps give you excess energy.”

It would let him return to Elizabeth. He would be with her at Pemberley when their child was born. That was worth the risk. “I am willing and grateful for your assistance.”

“Come, then. Little One, will you help with bleeding him?” She produced a silver knife and a small basin from nowhere.

“Just tell me what to do,” Jack said.