So shecouldstill do magic without her hand. Good to know.
Darkness was closing in on her as Cathal dragged her into the cage with its magical binding bars. They had been too slow to get her in there. Her magic had been free long enough that the coldness she had been holding tight had burst free like a dam breaking. Frost spread from the bleeding stump of her arm before sweeping across her body.
Valentine...find me...she whispered in her mind, before shutting her eyes and letting the ice close over her.
5
Valentine sat on the edge of his bed, the vial of sleeping elixir in his hand. He needed to find Yelena and Avallach. Still, he was hesitating. Letting his dragon into his unconscious mind was a risk, and Valentine had done everything in his life to mitigate his magic from hurting anyone.
Even though it hurt you in the process?the voice of his mother whispered to him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He only ever heard her when his anxiety was high. That was a bigger red flag than his dragon being willing to help for once.
Valentine put the elixir on the bed and took a small bundle of carefully folded bits of paper from his pocket. They were softly foxed around the edges from too much handling. It hadn't seemed to matter that he felt betrayed when he had learned of her deception. He had still been unable to get rid of the folded notes, and they had remained in his pockets to touch from time to time.
He took a long breath in and let himself feel Yelena's magic that had carved the words onto the paper. It was like a breeze on ahot day, like honey on a sore throat. It was a cool balm that soothed over the burning fire of his brain. The knife in his chest eased its stabbing, and he breathed in.
"Fuck," he almost sobbed with relief.
He never should have sent that last fucking letter. He should have let his temper cool down instead of lashing out like a wounded child. Gods, he really was a bastard.
Find her, his dragon growled and raked claws at his insides.
Valentine drank down the elixir, lay back on his bed, and held the letters to his chest. "Show me. Help me."
The elixir was strong enough that in less than five minutes, it took him down, down, down into nothingness. Bas might have been the master of dreams and astral travel, but Valentine was no novice. It wasn't a magic he leaned on often, and too late, he thought he should have asked Bas for help.
Valentine's dragon was waiting for him, ruby eyes shining in the darkness. Hot scales brushed against him, and then theywerehim. It was as easy as pulling on a favorite coat. Everything inside of him suddenly aligned like screaming white noise coming into silence.
Valentine knew it would always feel this way if he gave in to what was sleeping inside of him. It was wholeness and clarity. The calming of the eternal storm of power and helpless rage.
It was the first time he dared to hope that maybe if he stopped being so afraid of it, he could one day make it a reality. He had dragons around him that could ensure he never hurt anyone when it happened. Yelena's advice had already helped him with control of his magic, and she could be the key to helping him understand and integrate his dragon and darkness once and for all. He needed to get her back first.
Clinging to the remnants of Yelena's magic, he shook out his wings and launched himself into the air. He could see Kian's castlebelow him, onyx and imposing. The night was cold, and he stared up at the stars above him.
Find the thread, Valentine prompted, so the beast wouldn't get too enamored of the night sky.
I already have it,the dragon snorted and waved its paw before them. A silver, bright thread of power was wrapped around its ankle. Valentine didn't question why it was tied to him. He only needed to follow it.
Two minds in the same body flew towards the stone circle, and without any words or ritual, the door to Faerie blew open. The dragon soared through it, flying hard and relishing the freedom even in this dream space.
Valentine let it go and enjoyed the rapidly changing landscapes. He had been to Faerie before, but he didn't recognize any of the rivers and trees beneath him. They had gone through the stones and come out somewhere other than where they led in the real world. He trusted the silvery thread tied to him. He flew over still lakes and forests, heading further and further north.
The thread tugged hard, and he circled down over a small glade. He landed heavily amidst the trampled remnants of what used to be a camp. The dragon found a tent, following the scent he knew was Yelena's. It was strangely floral and dark, like jasmine but earthier.
This was where she sent the last letter, Valentine said to himself. The magic that had formed the message had definitely originated there, but she wasn't there. None of them were.
A sharp, hot flash of pain in his right paw had him rearing up and back into the air. No, it wasn't his pain. It washers.
Valentine roared and streaked through the air, going further north, her magic blasting through him like a beacon fire a mile high. He followed it with blind, mad fury. He could see the shimmering silver explosion above a small fortress. He circled over it.There were campfires and tents in the courtyard, and a battered man was tied to a post.
He landed on the battlements and saw the cage hanging over the side, nothing but air and jagged rocks beneath it. Valentine keened softly when he saw the body lying inside it. It was blue and white with frost, except for a stump where a hand used to be. The ice was stained crimson around it.
Yelena's eyes were open as she whispered,Valentine…find me.
Valentine's rage at what they had done to her took hold of him. He would kill them for this. He would kill them all. Crimson and black threads of his magic burst free, and the dream world shook around him.
I'm coming. Hold on.
