“Afraid of our combined energies being felt by his King?” Layla wondered.
“Maybe. Though I think it’s fear of increasing his power that’s actually holding Dusk back.”
But Adrian had no time to say more as Dusk re-emerged, wearing only his black shirt, black belt, and midnight-blue trousers now with his black Oxfords. He’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows and looked more causal, though immaculately put-together like usual. His glamour was gone, and Layla could see the slightly dusky hue to his tanned skin, thin lines of gold and serrated ridges of midnight-iridescent dragon-scales at the edge of his high cheekbones and temples.
But his outer cheekbones shone with golden fractals, and Layla was mesmerized by it as he lifted a hand, currying it through his wavy hair again. She could just see lines of scales and gold edging his collarbones at his open shirt collar, and suddenly wanted to see his entire body in a brighter light than the moon on the veranda three nights ago. It was a deep desire, and made a bloom of orange-bourbon scent flow from Layla’s skin as her Dragon stirred inside her once more – wanting to finish what Dusk had blocked earlier.
Dusk glanced at her, his eyes flashing a bright diamond-sapphire as he held her gaze, his lips easing open as he inhaled her scent. But he didn’t say anything, merely gestured toward the door out into the hall. With a nod, Adrian led the way, opening the teakwood doors of Layla’s suite and issuing them all out. Once they were back in the inner quadrangle of the hotel’s courtyard, it was like the tension between the three of them cleared to the Djinnic winds flowing around the garden. As if being alone in a room with Adrian and Layla had triggered him, Dusk took a deep breath on the balcony, gazing around with a calmer energy.
They didn’t see Yousry or Tarik as they moved down the vaulted hall toward a back exit beyond the courtyard gardens, only a few staff freshening unoccupied rooms. All were Djinn men and women in flowing white caftans and gold jewelry, and smiled pleasantly at their trio as they made their way through the garden’s maze of screens, greenery, and potted plants. Arriving at a wide veranda with a small fountain-pool edged in gold tile, they took a flagstone path, coming to a tall wrought-iron gate in the exterior compound wall. Adrian opened it, ushering them out into a small garden of potted honeysuckle vines beyond, and past that – the Luxor Temple.
Stopping in the honeysuckle garden, Layla took a moment to devour the sight before them. As the Luxor Temple had once been in the human realm, the towering walls were made of alternating horizontal stripes of white and red sandstone, cartouches carved into the building’s façades painted bright with gold, turquoise, ochre, and emerald. Each towering statue at the walls was painted also, with vivid details of jeweled collars, flowing pleated garb, and ornate headdresses showing bright under the desert sun. Sunlight glinted off the Nile beyond, fishing-boats with old 1800’s masts and white sails like the arched wings of birds sailing lazily along the current. Palm trees edged the temple’s gargantuan walls, and a lush garden of well-tended flowers and vines spread at the foot of every obelisk and statue.
“It’s beautiful.” Layla spoke quietly, seeing what the temples of Egypt should have looked like in the human world, had they not been ruined by wars and time and the elements. It made her imagination run riot, wondering if the other temples along the Upper and Lower Nile were the same as this one in the Twilight Realm – still hale, undamaged in their timeless beauty.
“It’s one of a kind,” Dusk spoke quietly, as he and Adrian watched the temple with her. Far off at the temple’s southern ingress, a number of people were coming and going, carrying woven baskets of goods or orchestrating the movement of larger products like furniture. Clearly, a bustling market was happening inside the temple’s main courtyard, their destination.
“Why is it one of a kind?” Layla asked, glancing to Dusk.
“A number of temples along the Nile basin have been ruined by clan wars.” He spoke sadly, gazing up at the temple’s towering heights where bright turquoise and carnelian pennants flew in the breeze. “The human versions of these temples are in bad shape, but a number of temples in the Twilight Realm are completely demolished, little more than rock chips and sand now. This one stands strong because the First of the Rogue Djinn protects it. It’s a place of peace like the Red Letter Hotel, where people of all Lineages can gather without reprisal. Which is good for me.”
“Why is that good for you?” But even as Layla asked the question, she saw a number of people had stopped nearby, staring at Dusk with their mouths agape. As if they had never seen a Crystal Dragon before, they stared at him with wide eyes, blushing and fumbling their goods, or hustling children quickly away. As Dusk drew a breath and sighed, watching people gape at him like he was some kind of scary sideshow, Adrian answered Layla’s question.
“Crystal Dragons are feared throughout Egypt,” Adrian spoke levelly. “Especially Royals strong enough to wear their Lineage on their skin. Because this is a place of peace, Dusk can come and go freely, without reprisal. And without a glamour. Though he will draw attention.”
Layla blinked, suddenly realizing something she’d never known before; that Dusk was unique among his kind in wearing his Dragon-scales on his skin. It was a symbol of his strength and Royal magic, and as she turned to him, she realized something else. “You were never truly able to hide your power from your King, were you? Every time you level-up, you show more of your Dragon on your skin.”
“It’s true.” Dusk sighed, his gaze shifting from the people gathering in a crowd now, to Layla. “Weak Crystal Dragons look human, Layla. They may show a jewel tone in their eyes, and sometimes have delicate lines of color running through their skin, but few look like I do. I first started to refract with light when I was in that threesome we talked about, and my Dragon-scales came out at that time, also. My skin darkened to its dusky hue, and every time I strengthen in my magic, I change a little more. It’s one reason I don’t associate with my kind, Layla. Because they would all see what I’m becoming. What all these Twilight folk see now.”
“Right – why are they staring at you like you’re going to behead them, exactly?” Layla asked, glancing at the group of forty or so people now staring uncertainly at Dusk, their purchases in their hands forgotten.
“Because my people were once the worst conquerors the Twilight Realm has ever known.” Dusk spoke sadly, glancing to Layla. “Ask me again how my clan acquired their treasure-hoards. And why most of the temples along the Nile in the Twilight Realm are smashed to smithereens. Because my kin suffered no resistance to their greed. And the various clans of the Nile know my kind as only one thing – brutal.”
Taking a deep breath, Dusk watched the people standing before the temple, and they watched him back. Warily, they regarded him as if he might start going ballistic and they would have to flee. But as Dusk stepped forward, he pulled a vine of honeysuckle flowers from a trellis in the garden. Moving forward into the crowd, he wrapped the vines in his hands like manacles. Making eye contact with a crocodile woman holding the hand of a small child and practically shuddering in her gauzy white dress, the woman’s eyes were enormous as Dusk approached. Corralling the child behind her, she held her ground as others around her backed away, hawk-men and ibis-women and swirling almost-there Djinn looking like they were about to bolt.
“Kithlenii hile Aegypti Chryssali, abra houthet hai ne karnak ounir.” Dusk spoke quietly, pulling a honeysuckle flower from the vine and extending it quietly to the woman. It was a language Layla had never heard, like Arabic but not, and as Dusk spoke it, the woman trembled. But with gentle scaled fingers, she accepted the flower from Dusk. As the flower left his fingertips, Dusk gave a low rumble, coating the petals of the honeysuckle bloom entirely crystal in a wave of light. Layla had never seen him do anything like it, and she gaped almost as much as the crocodile mother, staring now at what was in her hands.
Others hedged closer, gaping at the flower even as they turned eyes that shone with wonder to Dusk. The honeysuckle blossom was now perfectly preserved in a luminous layer of what looked like pure diamond, though it was clear as glass and thin as the petals themselves. As the crocodile woman’s eyes began to tear, Dusk knelt, repeating his words and gesture to the child, extending to the little crocodile-girl a diamond blossom. With big eyes, she took it.
And with pure joy on her face, she surged forward and hugged Dusk around the neck.
A stunned silence filled those watching. Suddenly, goods were set to the ground all around as Dusk kissed the little girl on the forehead and rose, facing the crowd. With a solemn demeanor, he moved to an elderly ibis-man, repeating his words and preserving a new flower. And like Jesus distributing bread and fishes to the masses, he was suddenly swamped all around as people moved forward with amazed awe to receive his gifts.
“What is going on?” Layla asked, strangely moved by the scene.
“Dusk has named himself First of the Crystal Dragons of Egypt, and offers the peoples of the Nile a piece of his wealth as a token of peace.” A musical tenor voice spoke beside them, and Layla glanced over to see Tarik watching the scene with a deeply pleased benevolence shining from his vivid blue eyes. Somehow, the Djinn had appeared like the wind beside them, swirling into being with hardly a breath of air.
Glancing at Layla, Tarik pinned her with his electric blue gaze as he continued. “Such a thing is known only in lore, dear one. Tens of thousands of years ago, there was a Crystal Dragon Queen from the Egyptian clan named Ishet Arlohaina. She was known as the Luminous Dawn because of the great peace she forged among the clans of the Nile. Many temples were built in her honor, and by her generosity with her clan’s wealth were great works and cities built all along this river. Luxor Temple is all that remains of her vision and grace, a combined effort of the Crystal Dragons of Egypt, the local Djinn and other tribes in the area – a last bastion of peace for all clans along the great river. Queen Ishet’s emblem was the honeysuckle flower, which she would diamond-preserve by her magics and give to anyone she met as she walked in the city. Dusk rouses her memory with his actions. In a way no one has been able to do since Ishet herself, interestingly. To preserve a living blossom in a layer of diamond so fine it is like glass is a delicate thing. Most Royal Crystal Dragons fail, spiking the blossom with crystals and devastating that which they seek to protect. Dusk honors his ancient ancestor by showing her grace today.”
“Arlohaim. Arlohaina.” Layla blinked as she glanced at Tarik. “This Crystal Queen was Dusk’s direct ancestor?”
“Indeed.” Tarik spoke, a mystical smile curling his lips. “–haimis the surname for a boy child,–hainafor a girl, by Crystal Dragon tradition. But Dusk’s ancient matriarchal line produced many Royals, including Dusk’s mother, who was strong enough to be called to Prague by King Markus. Dusk makes a clever move today, showing his strength and ancestry to the peoples of the Nile.”
“He’s not doing it because of politics,” Adrian spoke beside Layla, watching Dusk also. “He’s doing it because he cares. And Dusk would have it no other way.”
Watching Dusk with the crowd, Layla saw what Adrian saw. Dusk moved among them not because he wanted to be beloved or worshipped, but because he truly cared about setting right the terrible wrongs his clan had done for millennia. Dusk had a heart as wide as the sky, and as Layla watched him, smiling finally as he moved among the peoples of the river, she saw his heart shine.
Refracting through his scales and hair, waves of light poured through Dusk like a river in the sun, as he clasped hands and exchanged a hearty laugh with one toothless old Djinn-matron in a flowing red robe and ornate headdress. Someone began to pound a drum and someone else began to sing – and suddenly a circle had formed around Dusk of people laughing and singing, banging whatever they had to add to the music. It was primal and touching, and Layla’s heart was deeply moved as she watched Dusk sink to his knees in the center of the circle, spreading out the honeysuckle vine before him and diamond-coating the rest of the flowers in a wave of light. Crossing his arms over his chest in a position of mummification, he bowed his head, closing his eyes and swaying to the pulse of the music.
