Dragon on Top (8 page)

“Feoras?” she asked, unable to hide the emotion she felt at the sight of him.

The green dragon grinned wide—and slammed his sword into her chest. The last thing that went through her mind was that the only reason he'd missed her heart was because the royal behind her had pulled her to the side at the last second.

 

 

Bram released a blast of flame that sent Feoras the Fighter—now Feoras the Traitor when Bram was done telling this tale—and a group of soldiers several hundred feet away from them. Bram hadn't merely been bragging when he said his flame was mighty. It was a family truth. As if their flame compensated for their lack of weapons skill. With no more than two fiery blasts, Bram could wipe out an entire village.

“Addolgar!” Bram called out. Ghleanna was in his arms, blood pouring from her wound.

Her brother cut another dragon down before looking over his shoulder.

“Gods!”

“It was Feoras!” Bram motioned to the dragon, who still hadn't managed to get back on his claws, his head having struck the ground hard when he'd landed.

Addolgar snarled, ready to go after the one who'd cut down his beloved sister. But then more dragons landed around them.

“Take her!” he ordered Bram.

Bram looked around. All he saw were trees and ocean. The next port was several leagues away. And with him carrying Ghleanna—they'd never stand a chance. “Where?”

“Anywhere! Just go!”

“But—”

“She's dying, royal!”

Bram looked down at the She-dragon in his arms and realized that Addolgar spoke truly. Blood pumped from her chest in big gouts.

“Take her! Help her!” Addolgar killed two dragons in front of him by running them through with one thrust of his spear. “We'll do what we can to hold them off.” He glanced back at Bram one more time. “Help my sister. Please.”

Bram nodded and took another quick look around, his gaze finally settling on the ocean. It was the last place he wanted to go. The place he swore he'd never return to.

Yet he had no choice but to risk it. So Bram grabbed firm hold of Ghleanna and took to the skies, moving over the ocean. He heard the shouts of those trying to capture him. They were coming after him but Bram kept going until he was far enough out and high enough.

“Ghleanna? Can you hear me?”

“Aye.” But she sounded weak.

“Take in a deep breath. The deepest breath you can. Then hold it.”

He felt her take in several breaths, but it was not easy with her losing so much blood. When he knew she'd done what she could and that she now held her breath, Bram tightened his hold on her—and flipped them both over.

A few of the soldiers were near now. Only a few feet away, but they never expected Bram to suddenly flip over—nor to suddenly race toward the ocean beneath them.

“Stop him!” someone yelled from the shore. “Stop him before he reaches the water.
Stop him!
”

Unwilling to stop until he was made to, Bram kept going, glad for his lighter weight, knowing it allowed him to move faster than the bigger dragons.

He neared the blue water, was right there when he heard Addolgar bellow,
“What the hells is he doing?”

It was the last thing Bram heard before he hit the water, dragging Ghleanna down with him. Down and down, deep into the ocean.

A few dragons followed him in. Foolish dragons. Or they didn't know what the older, more experienced ones did.

For as he kept going, the others behind him, those who ruled these waters, shot past him, their weapons out, their shark-like fangs bared. They ripped past Bram, the webs between their talons and the bright colored fin that cut down their back giving them unholy speed, while their gills allowed them to breathe.

Bram kept going until more dragons surrounded him. Older soldier Fins who'd patrolled these waters for quite some time. They looked at the wounded She-dragon in Bram's arms and then at Bram.

It was Bram they recognized.

Understanding that their visitors were quickly running out of oxygen, the Sea Dragons separated the pair. A Fin wrapped his forearms around Bram while another did the same to Ghleanna. Then they used their underwater speed to whisk the visitors deeper in the ocean—and the caves beneath. To the Empress of the Sea Dragon Empire.

And the gods knew . . . that conniving bitch was ten times worse than Rhiannon could even dream of being.

Chapter 7

Bram used his forearms to brace his body, his talons pressing into the packed earth of the cave floor, and he spewed seawater from his burning lungs. He sensed much activity around him but he paid it little mind. He was too busy trying to get his bearings.

Confused, he lifted his head to try to see where he was but his eyes stung and his hair was in his face.

“Breathe, my Lord,” someone gently told him, patting his back. “You're safe now.”

He recognized that voice, but from where? “Kleitos?”

“Good memory, old friend.”

“Where . . . ?” Feeling his lungs had cleared, Bram sat back and pushed the wet hair from his eyes. That's when he saw Ghleanna. She lay on her back, with several dragons surrounding her. “No.”

He tried to get up, to go to her, but Kleitos quickly pulled him back. “Let them do their work, Bram. You can't help her now.”

Shaking his head, Bram tried desperately to remember what had happened. “We were set upon,” he said out loud. “Betrayed.” He frowned, pressing his talons to his forehead. “They were trying to stop me.”

“Who, old friend? Who was trying to stop you?”

The thought was just out of reach, so Bram did what he always did—he reached for his travel bag. It was a Magickal item designed to survive all flames, including the ones from his shifting. But the bag was no longer on him. His gaze, suddenly clear, shot across the cavern and he saw several dragons going through it.

He stood but Kleitos grabbed his forearm, held him back.

That's when everything became terribly, ridiculously clear.

“Get your claws off me, Kleitos.”

“Now, now, old friend—”

“We are
not
old friends, you deceitful bastard.”

Kleitos's smile was wide, revealing those shark-like fangs. It had taken years, nearly a decade for Bram to stop having nightmares about those bloody fangs. “I know we're not friends, but it worked for a time, didn't it?”

Bram tried again to pull his forearm away.

“Now, now, my Lord. Don't make such a fuss. I'm sure we can be reasonable about all this, wouldn't you agree?”

Annoyed more than he'd been in an age, Bram slammed his head into Kleitos's the way he'd seen Ghleanna do to Cai.

“What the hells was that?”
Kleitos cried out, holding his head.

“You deserved it.”

“Barbarians,” Kleitos accused him. “All the Land Dwellers are nothing but barbarians!”

“That is enough, Kleitos,” a female voice ordered and nearly every male in the chamber dropped to a knee in supplication. Bram, however, merely bowed his head.

“My Lord Bram.”

“Empress Helena.”

The dragoness circled him. “You do look the worse for wear,” she told him, her claw brushing his shoulder. “What have you been up to?”

“I'm sorry to have dropped in like this, Empress. But I really had no choice. I was set upon and—”

“Yes, yes. The ones who followed you were slain by my soldiers. They were foolish to follow you down here.” She stopped in front of him, green-blue eyes looking him over. “Foolish for
you
to come back. I let you go once, Land Dweller. Who is to say I'll feel so kindly toward you a second time?”

“It was not my first choice to come here, Empress, but to be quite honest . . . I really didn't have another option.”

“And that?” she asked, pointing at Ghleanna with a dark green claw.

“She is with me and helped save my life. I'll do what I have to to protect her.”

“Will you now?” The Empress moved closer. Her scales, like the scales of her people, fascinated Bram because they constantly changed colors the way the sea around them changed colors. Swirling from blue to dark green to light pink to another shade of blue. It was a beautiful sight to behold—when you felt confident they wouldn't kill you for sport. “That's very interesting.”

She moved away, heading out of the cavern. “Keep them both alive,” Helena tossed over her shoulder. “At least until I change my mind.”

“It must be your lucky day,” Kleitos observed once Helena and her entourage had left. “Bram of the Land Dwellers.”

Sneering, Bram jerked his head a little and the bastard quickly scrambled away, hiding behind a few soldiers.

“Barbarians,” the Fin hissed. “All of you.”

And why would Bram argue with him?

Ghleanna knew someone was sitting on her chest. Someone extremely heavy. Addolgar? He'd done it before. He'd tried to smother her once with a buffalo.

But when Ghleanna forced her eyes open, all she saw were some strange looking dragons standing around her. All with scales in varying shades of green, blue, and yellow; and long braided hair that constantly shifted color whenever the light changed around them. And fins. Rather than horns on their heads, as any
true
dragon had, this lot had fins.

Fins? What kind of dragon had . . . ?

Gods. Sea Dragons. Sea Dragons were surrounding her. Why? Were they trying to kill her? Or, even worse . . . experiment on her? The Fins had been known to do that sort of thing. They considered themselves intellectuals and superior to all other dragon species—the way all the other dragons considered themselves superior to each other. But where those on land were content to kill each other in battle, the Fins tended to avoid conflict. But those who strayed too far into their watery territory might be used to test out the Fins' many potions and poisons and all manner of terrible things.

Moments from unleashing her flame to remove the Fins from her presence, a familiar and welcome face leaned over her. “It's all right, Ghleanna. They're here to help you. Just relax. Sleep.” Without her making one move, Bram had known what she was planning and had eased her discomfort. Such a useful dragon, that one. And so very cute.

“Sssh. Sleep.” He stroked her hair with his talons. “Shut your eyes and sleep.”

And, feeling much safer, that's what Ghleanna did.

 

 

It had taken much work from not only the surgeons but the Empress's personal wizard guild to save Ghleanna's life. While the wizards kept her heart beating and her brain functioning, the surgeons had worked quickly to repair her lungs and the damaged artery caused by that traitor's weapon.

And for that, Bram would make sure Feoras paid dearly, for Bram's mercy only went so far.

Now he sat beside Ghleanna's prone form and held her claw in his, waiting for her to wake. But he was anxious and with good reason. When he'd seen Kleitos scurry from the cave, smiling and giggling like a child, Bram knew no good could come of it.

It had been a few decades since Bram had been in the underwater lairs of the Fins, and it had been under very different circumstances. Circumstances he had no intention of repeating. This time, however, he was no hatchling of a dragon. And this time he had so much more to protect. But he wasn't talking about bloody truces or alliances.

“You dare,” Helena's voice softly demanded from behind him, “bring
that
here? Into my court?”

Getting to his claws, exhaustion making him much slower than usual, Bram said to the monarch, “I do not understand, Empress.”

“That,”
she said again, pointing at a still-unconscious Ghleanna. “You brought
that
here. Abusing my good nature”—
her good what?
—“and risking my subjects.”

“I still don't understand—”

“A Cadwaladr!”
she bellowed. “You brought a Cadwaladr into my palace!”

“Kleitos said you called her Ghleanna. Is that Ghleanna the
Decimator?
Sister of that bastard Bercelak?”

“Empress—”

“No! I don't want to hear it!” She pointed her talon at Ghleanna and ordered her royal guard to, “Kill it. Before it awakes and destroys us all.”

“No.”

The Empress's eyes narrowed on Bram. “Did you say no to
me?
”

“I did and I apologize, but no one touches Ghleanna. We are unarmed and unable to fight, asking for your protection. So to kill us now—”

“But you didn't give me all the facts. You simply brought that fighting dog into our midst like it was a harmless puppy.”

“She is wounded and has much healing to do. I don't see what kind of threat—”

“She's a Cadwaladr. Don't pretend you don't know what that means, peacemaker.”

“Aye. She's a Cadwaladr. And my protector and my friend. Not only that, she's directly tied to the Royal House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar. Harm her, Empress, and Queen Rhiannon will not stop until your vast ocean is nothing but a boiling pot of Sea Dragon stew.”

“Like her mother then, is your young queen?”

“Actually,” he sighed, “no. She's nothing like her mother, which means she won't hesitate to do what she can to destroy you should you harm Ghleanna. I assure you, you'll not have the same inaction you experienced with Adienna.”

“Is the Cadwaladr her pet?”

“No. She's Rhiannon's sister by mating. That bastard Bercelak, as you called him, is Rhiannon's consort. And as we both know, my Lord Bercelak forgives nothing. Harm his sister and I won't be responsible for what he does. And trust me when I say . . . he'll do
something.
”

“So I'm supposed to allow this low-born creature to wander around here among us? Untethered, unmonitored?”

“Ghleanna owes her life to you. Like all Cadwaladrs she takes that debt very seriously. As do I.”

“Which means what? Exactly?”

“It means I never forget those who've helped me.”

“Is that right?” The Empress's eyes narrowed, her mind calculating as always. “Still . . . we can't take the chance.”

She motioned to Kleitos and he stepped toward Ghleanna's prone body, a blade in his hand.

“Take another step”—Bram warned, stopping Kleitos in his tracks—“and I'll flay the scales from your bones.”

One of the guard's placed the tip of his pike against Bram's throat and Bram moved his gaze to Helena. “Do you really think I'd let this piece of metal stop me?”

“Interesting,” she murmured, and Bram realized too late it was a test. She didn't want to challenge Rhiannon—who did?—but she wanted to see how protective Bram was toward Ghleanna. How much she could possibly use his protectiveness to her own ends.

Annoyed with himself, Bram looked away and that's when he saw that Ghleanna's eyes were open and staring at Kleitos who, at the moment, was blissfully unaware of her.

He could have warned Kleitos; it would have been the merciful thing to do . . .

Yet it was much more entertaining to watch Ghleanna raise her claw, slap the blade from Kleitos's hand, pull back, and punch him directly in the snout. And she broke something in that snout. Something important.

Roaring in pain, Kleitos stumbled back, both claws around his damaged appendage, tears leaking from his eyes.

The Empress, now standing behind another contingent of guards who'd moved in to protect her the way Ghleanna and her kin had moved in to protect Bram, observed, “I see your pet needs a leash, peacemaker.”

“Forgive her, Empress. She's still unwell. Not in her right mind.”

Helena stepped around her guards and whispered, “You can stop smiling, Bram. I'm sure Kleitos got the message.” She smirked and motioned to one of her guards. “Fetch Euthalia.”

The guard ran off and Helena studied Ghleanna, who'd passed out once more. “So many scars.” She shuddered in distaste. “An abused pet it seems.” She gritted her fangs. “Kleitos. Honestly. Stop all that blubbering.”

A few minutes later a sorceress arrived. “You called for me, Empress?”

“Do you have what we discussed earlier, Euthalia?”

“Aye, my mistress.” She held a large gold ring in her hand.

“Excellent. Put it on her.”

“Empress—” Bram began but Helena cut him off with a slash of her front claw and he was forced to watch while the sorceress stepped beside Ghleanna and fastened the ring around her throat.

And while they all silently observed, the ring grew smaller and smaller—as Ghleanna shifted to human. When it was over, Ghleanna was in her human form with a gold collar around her throat. A collar that would keep her in her human form for as long as Helena wanted.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Either this, Bram the Merciful, or I allow my guards to cut her Land Dweller throat and I take my chances with your queen—and you. Your choice.”