“A fine man.” The mighty dragon’s golden eyes appeared, but the rest of the beast did not. “Ye are truly the image of him, and I sense yer heart is just as courageous—unlike the one placed on the throne after him.”
“Aye, my father was a coward and did not treat his subjects well.” Mathison refused to make excuses for the man who had sired him.
“We heard of yer curse,” Bresag said. “Was it yer father who cursed ye?”
“No. The witch. Bansys.”
Both dragons snorted, filling the tunnel with flames.
Mathison jumped back a pace to keep from getting singed.
“Do forgive us.” Noigarth snorted again, but shot his flame the other way. The tunnel filled with his impressive form, his iridescent blue-black scales glistening like rare gemstones. “The witch deserves no mercy. Not from us nor anyone else.”
“I dinna intend to offer her any.”
“Good.” Bresag appeared in the adjoining fork in the tunnel, her folded wings and breastplates glittering with the colorful whiteness of priceless opals. “If we might be of service, call upon us. We valued yer grandsire’s friendship.”
“First, I must rescue my mate from the Pit. Bansys and the witch, Carman, imprisoned her there. Then, I intend to seek my vengeance.”
Both dragons slowly nodded as if seeing the wisdom in his words.
“Again, call upon us should ye need us,” Noigarth said, then gradually faded from view. “We will hear ye. No matter where ye might be.”
“Ye have dragon blood in yer ancestry,” Bresag said as she, too, began to disappear. “Yer grandsire mixed his with ours in an ancient ritual of allies known to dragons since the beginning of all the ages. We are yer brethren.” She chuckled. “We would be happy to honor the rite by helping ye spill the witch’s blood.”
“I am honored, mighty ones.” Mathison thumped his fist to his chest in the warrior salute he meant from the bottom of his soul.
Chapter
Fifteen
Curled on her side and as close to the fire as she could get, Calia drifted in and out of fitful consciousness, not really sleeping but not really awake either. Every nerve ending ached, burning and freezing in a weird cycle of shudders and jabs.
Even though she couldn’t see them, she sensed Legion all around, constantly feeding the fire to keep the inferno blazing. She swallowed hard, her lips cracked and dry. What she wouldn’t give for a sip of water. If she had the strength, she’d try to collect some ice to melt on her tongue and slake her thirst—even though all the survivalists advised against lowering the body’s core temperature by eating ice and snow. But surely just a little wouldn’t hurt. Maybe she would do that later. After she’d rested a little longer.
“Sleep,” Intuition said. “The blast that hit your chest was poison, but you can overcome it.”
“Are you all right?” Calia mumbled, not bothering to open her eyes.
“I am frustrated that I cannot help you.”
“You help me by being here.” A faint echo from across the vast pit tugged Calia into a more alert state. “Listen. Someone is calling for Litress. Didn’t you tell me that was one of your names?”
“That is the name the mother goddesses gave me.” Intuition went quiet, but Calia could tell her wolf wasn’t finished. There was something wistful and yearning in her tone.“And it is the name my Dubh calls me.”
It occurred to Calia that maybe her inner voice, which had turned out to be her inner wolf, had agreed to be called Intuition because she knew Calia was having a hard time accepting all the strangeness that had become her world since moving to Scotland. “If Litress is your given name, then we should call you that rather than Intuition. It’s your identity. Right? Your tone tells me you regret leaving your past behind, as you previously told me.”
“Would it disturb you to call me Litress?”
“You deserve to be called whatever name you wish. You are as real and whole as I am—even though we’re connected by one body.” Calia pushed up to a sitting position and scooted closer still to the fire. “I’m sorry you felt the need to hide yourself for so very long. It had to be horrible. Imprisoned in an existence you had no control over.”
“This existence has been a great deal better than my last one.”
A warm glow filled Calia, one that had nothing to do with the fire. “Things will be different now. Better for both of us.” They had both endured difficult pasts, but now was the time to make the future better. She tried to stand, but dizziness sent her back to her hands and knees. Dark spots swirled in her vision, threatening to make her heave.
“Mistress!” the softer voice of Legion said. “Ye must rest.”
“We have kept the fire going,” said Legion’s deeper voice with a tone just as scolding.
