He struggled to his feet, his head swimming a little. “Not because our magic entwines?”
“Unlikely,” the Eldest rumbled from behind her. “Many dragon companions can entwine their magic with their mates, but none has had this effect. It is unusual, though, for a companion to come into their power after they are already married, though.
He blinked. Everyone knew entwined magic was highly unusual, but was it merely because dragon companions were rare?
“If I had been unbridled before I conceived, you would have grown accustomed to this gradually,” Elizabeth said apologetically. “Instead it has hit you all at once.”
She helped him to a chair that someone must have found for him, since why would dragons otherwise have a chair? If one could call it that when it was an elaborate silver sculpture with miniature faces of animals, fae, and legendary creatures. It looked more like a throne for the monarch of a magical kingdom than a place to keep him safe from having his legs go out from under him.
He sank down into it gratefully. Its comfort did not match its beauty, but it held his weight, and that was the important thing.
The enormous dragon rumbled, “I have been considering the boon you requested, Companion Elizabeth. We have nothing that can guarantee your mate’s safety, but there are some tools which might prove useful to him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I will be grateful for any help.”
“Indeed,” Darcy said. He was willing to play along with this for Elizabeth’s sake, but it was hard to see what a dragon in England could do to help him escape Napoleon’s clutches.
“The first thing will permit brief communication between the two of you.” The dragon produced what appeared to be two iridescent copper-colored dragon scales, matching the ones that covered her body. “They will become active each day at sunset. When both of you hold one of these, you will be able to send a message regardless of the distance. Only a very brief one – an image, a thought, a sentence. These will not work for anyone one else, just the two of you, and only when your mate is away from England.”
Darcy straightened. Could this be true? Sending over a great distance had always been thought an impossibility.
Elizabeth picked up one scale and stroked it carefully, reverently. “You are generous.”
The dragon said, “One thing. I must insist that you not use this in any way to further your desire to kill. It is not a tool to help with murder.”
“I give you my word,” Darcy said. It was too bad, though. How valuable it could be, if only the War Office could send him word this way! After all, the dragons would benefit from Napoleon’s death, too. Perhaps it was worth a risk. “If I may ask a question, though – why are you so opposed to my mission? I respect your belief that killing is wrong, but it would be none of your doing, and I cannot believe you wish for Napoleon to remain free to force other dragons to fight.”
Shocked surprise furled off the dragon. “Wrong? Is that what they have told you? We do not kill because it endangers our freedom.”
“How could it endanger you?”
The dragon gazed at him in sorrow. “Because the moment a dragon kills, he becomes a slave of the Wicked King. That is the trigger that puts us into bondage.”
“I… I do not understand.”
“When the Wicked King created dragons, he wanted a perfect war machine. He made us intelligent so we could make decisions in battle, but that risked making us too clever to obey every order. Lest we turn our weapons on him, he set a trap in our very bodies. The first time we kill, it triggers in us a compulsion to obey him in all things. Our ancestors did not know that, so they accepted the rewards he offered for fighting in his wars. Thus they became his minions for life, and he used them to destroy entire kingdoms of innocent fae.” Grief pervaded the air around her.
It was horrifying. “But you are free of him in the mortal world, are you not?”
“Unless we kill – or take action that results in killing. I cannot help your mission, even indirectly.” Her voice was weighed with helpless grief. “I have more that can assist your safe return, but we must speak alone for that. You may leave us, Companion Elizabeth.”
Her eyes widened. “Very well.” She darted a quick glance at Darcy and left the chamber, looking back over her shoulder. The trust in her expression warmed his heart.
The Eldest settled herself, as if striving for greater comfort. “May I speak to you in your mind?” she asked.
“You may.” He was surprised she bothered to make the request after sharing with him earlier.
Her voice moved inside his head.I thank you. Speaking aloud tires me, as I am both out of practice and out of date.
“Your spoken language is not at all lacking.” But was the Eldest not speaking now, only inside his mind instead of aloud? Or was a dragon using some other language entirely, yet Darcy heard it as English?
It has been many years since I had a companion to practice with. A sense of sadness, an image of a woman in Elizabethan dress.One does not forget, but it does not come as smoothly.
It sent a shock through him. It was one thing to be told the dragons lived for centuries and that this was the Eldest, but knowing she had lived in the time of good Queen Bess made it real. “I am sorry for your loss.” Was it appropriate to offer condolences for someone dead for over two centuries?
She lives on in my memory. But to the matter of your safety, there are ways I can help you, but only if you agree to be bound against ever revealing the information I give you to anyone, either human or dragon.
He blinked. “Is it enough if I give you my word?”
