Page 44 of Wings of Frost and Fury (Merciless Dragons #4)
One final rush of magic. One final surge of my great body against the wolves. One more wild fight, slashing at them with my claws, chomping through their bony bodies and tough hides with my teeth, smacking them into pulp with my tail.
A howl sounds from somewhere in the night.
I don’t know if it’s a warning, or perhaps a call for the pack to retreat and find easier prey, but the remaining wolves scatter into the forest at once.
There are only two or three dozen of them left.
The rest are corpses littered across the ground—scores of lean, furry bodies.
The women limp from one wolf to the next, making sure the creatures are dead.
I let myself sink to the ground, my neck stretched at full length along the earth. Pain blooms in multiple places all over my body, and the edge of my right wing is ragged. I will heal, but it will take time.
Thelise comes to me and sits down by my head, her hand on my snout. “You saved everyone, pet. I hope you know that. Without you, we would have been slaughtered.”
I rumble at her touch and her words, but I’m too weary to respond.
She strokes the brow ridge over my right eye.
“I did tests on a few of the men and some of the meat. This is indeed a magical poison. Rahzien had someone create it for him and infected all the animals of the Middenwold Isles with it. The poison is designed to activate upon contact with dragon saliva and kill the victim within hours.”
My heart sickens.
They’re going to die. All of them, every male dragon I know and love.
Only Kyreagan, Varex, and I will be left, along with the eggs that our clan managed to produce this season. How will we go on with so few survivors?
Closing my eyes, I moan my heartbreak.
“No, darling! Don’t make that dreadfully sad sound, my god,” exclaims Thelise.
“You’re all going to survive this, because you’re not exactly dragons anymore.
You’re human, too. Shifting to human form eases the symptoms of the poison, but even the dragons who didn’t shift will survive it, though they might have a longer road to recovery. ”
She lowers her voice, and I swivel my ear to catch her soft words.
“Sweetheart, by letting me perform my spell, by not giving me away to Kyreagan when you figured out what I planned to do, you saved your people. Because of my magic and your trust in me, your clan will get through this. Dragons will continue to exist.”
Continued existence is a slow and painful process.
Torn and exhausted as I am, I’m the only dragon strong enough to hunt, to fight, or to carry people back up to the caves where they will be safe.
I transport them slowly, conserving my strength, and in the course of the following days, I take Thelise to the caves to visit everyone, to deliver food, and to offer help where we can.
A few days after the poisoning, I visit Varex and Jessiva at the Twin Fangs and inform them about what is happening.
I can tell Varex is troubled about the welfare of the clan, but he’s much quieter than usual, so it’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking.
He does not seem to be gaining any more control over the Mordvorren.
If anything, I suspect he is worse. But that battle is his to fight.
In the absence of both princes, I must return and supervise the recovery of the clan.
Finding enough food for all the incapacitated males is impossible for one dragon alone, even with the assistance of the women, who invest hours fishing and foraging.
Despite their dedication, their efforts yield little sustenance.
The edible plants on Ouroskelle were devastated by the storm.
The waters around the island have not yet recovered, and the places where fish always used to be plentiful are no longer reliable sources of food.
Since I am the only mode of transport from the ground to the caves and back again, I cannot leave Ouroskelle for six or seven hours at a time just to fly to the mainland and bring back a couple of sheep.
I’m beginning to think we will all starve when help arrives in the form of Hinarax. He bears news from Kyreagan, who needs our assistance to defeat Rahzien—but before we can save our Prince, we must save ourselves.
The help of one more dragon proves to be just enough to keep everyone alive as they slowly recover from the poison.
Hinarax, Thelise, and I are constantly busy, serving the needs of the clan.
Every day Thelise uses what magic she can spare to ease the suffering around her, all while trying to rebuild her own strength.
Every day Hinarax and I carry women from the caves down to the valley to fetch water and search for food.
He and I hunt everywhere, even going to so far as to venture into the cracks and crevices of the mountains in our human forms, armed with makeshift weapons, in the company of Thelise and several other women.
We root out the remaining fenwolves and roast the tough meat on their bones—and I thank the Bone-Builder for them, because without their presence, we would starve.
At last, the other males have regained enough strength in their dragon forms to head for the mainland. We are all worried about Kyreagan, anxious to help him reclaim his stolen mate.
Before the journey, I make another trip to the Twin Fangs to check on Varex.
He is suffering so greatly from the influence of the Mordvorren that he barely acknowledges my presence, but I offer what encouragement I can to Jessiva, and I promise her more assistance once Kyreagan and Serylla are safe.
It pains me to see Varex being plagued by the storm. The memory of Thelise’s suffering still haunts me. If Varex hadn’t used his void magic to swallow the storm, she would have died. I would have lost everything.
My heart is heavy as I return to Ouroskelle—weighed by my concern for Varex, my worry for Kyreagan, and the anxiety of fearing that our next meal could be our last. The scarcity of prey has brought us to the very brink of starvation, and I heard this morning that two of the eggs produced this season have hatched.
I did not pause to investigate then, since I was on my way to visit the Twin Fangs.
I thought perhaps the parents of the eggs would like private time with their offspring rather than an onslaught of well-wishers.
But as I descend into the valley, I angle left along the mountainside, skimming slowly past Aidrek’s cave.
I catch only a glimpse of them, but a glimpse is enough. Two tiny, plump dragons, their orange skin covered in the light spots that will eventually be concealed by scales. Aidrek is curled around them, and his mate reclines against him, smiling.
Like the radiant sun emerging from a bank of dark clouds, joy bursts forth in my heart.
Whatever it takes, those precious offspring will live. I will do whatever I can to ensure it. They are the future of our race.
I fly onward, hovering before another cave for just a moment as I hear the cracking of shells and excited exclamations from within. The euphoria of new life buzzes through my veins, washing away my exhaustion and carrying me faster toward my own cave.
There are no eggs or hatchlings waiting for me, but my joy is undimmed. The offspring of the clan are a blessing to everyone.
Thelise is crouched on the floor of my cave, extracting samples of blood from two animals that Hinarax brought from the Middenwold Isles.
He dropped them off this morning, but at the time, I had too much on my mind to question their presence.
Now that I’ve delivered my message to Varex, I have room for curiosity.
“What are you up to?” I nudge Thelise’s shoulder with my muzzle .
“Perfect timing, pet,” she says brightly. “I need some of your saliva.”
Obediently I open my jaws so she can collect a sample. She adds a drop of my saliva to a little dish of animal blood.
“I have a theory, based on what I learned about the poison that first night,” she says.
“Magical poisons like this don’t last forever.
Their efficacy degrades over time. It must have been introduced to the animals weeks ago, shortly before Rahzien’s anticipated victory…
but he couldn’t have known that the Mordvorren would strike here and delay the dragons’ consumption of the poison.
It was still fairly potent when they ingested it, but I’m hoping by now it has begun to degrade. It may already be inert.”
I watch as she sprinkles some crystal powder, herbs, and red salt over the saliva and blood mixture. She murmurs a few lines to the concoction, and it turns a brilliant blue.
“Blue is the good color!” she exclaims. “Look here—just a few flecks of green. The poison is almost gone. By tomorrow it should be completely inert, which means the prey from the Middenwold Isles will be safe to eat.”
“And not a moment too soon,” I tell her. “Eggs are hatching in caves all over Ouroskelle, and hatchlings are notorious for their appetites.”
“Hinarax told me that a few of the male dragons are staying behind while the rest of us go to the mainland,” she says. “They can make time for a quick hunting trip over to the Isles. Tell them to try the meat themselves to make sure it’s safe before they give it to the little ones.”
“They would be chewing it first anyway. As I told you, hatchlings’ teeth are not hard enough to properly masticate meat, so the Primes do it for them.”
“Right.” To her credit, she doesn’t make a face this time.
She is learning to respect the parts of our culture that are more unfamiliar to humans.
“You can tell the others about the Middenwold prey being safe to consume. While you’re gone, I’m going to re-pack my bag with some fresh supplies and a change of clothes for you.
Oh, and do you have any gold or treasure I could bring along? ”
“We’re going to perform a rescue.”