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As one, the guards turn, raising their swords. Their eyes are glazed under the effect of her enslavement spell. Even the king’s expression is fixed and unfocused as he stares across at me.
Something whistles through the air, and I turn just in time to see an arrow bounce harmlessly off my scales, followed by several more.
Foolish humans. I cannot be harmed by the pitiful weapons of man, but as I look down at my mate I realize she can very easily be killed if I do not protect her.
Fire gathers at the back of my throat. Opening my mouth, I spew a torrent of flame at the Mage.
She conjures a shield to protect her and the king, deflecting the devastation that would melt their skin and char their bones.
“Use the black arrows you fools!” she screeches to the King’s guards.
A flash of metal glints in the light and I turn as an archer from the nearby tower nocks a black arrow in the large bow, mounted atop the battlement.
These arrows are tipped with obsidian stone—a rare and expensive ore from theCragyrmountains. They are the only thing that can pierce a Dragon’s scales. Six more archers appear along the walls, each of them drawing back their bows to fire their black arrows.
Inwardly, I curse myself for having come here alone. My advisor suggested I come with three guards, but I was concerned it would make me appear weak in front of my people. Especially those who supported my uncle’s attempt to usurp me ten years ago, when I inherited the throne after my father’s untimely death.
I am the Dragon King of the Ice Mountains, and I will not tolerate anyone questioning my strength and ability to rule. I’d believed I could handle a kingdom of pitiful humans if things went wrong, during our negotiations. I had not counted upon them having so many black arrows.
The archer lets loose his deadly arrow and time slows as it spirals toward me. I twist to one side, but not fast enough. A pained cry rips from my throat as it sinks deep into my hind leg.
Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, the other guards send another volley of arrows, directed at my mate.
Panic tightens my chest. I must get her to safety.
Extending my wings, I flap them furiously, catching the wind in the great sails as we lift into the air. Another black arrow rushes toward me from the far tower and I barely avoid the hit as we ascend.
I expel another wave of fire, directed at the castle turrets, sending several of the guards diving down the stairwell as I set flame to their bows, before we spiral up toward the clouds and disappear into their cover.
As I turn back toward the Ice Mountains, my wings feel heavy and sluggish to respond. A strange sensation suffuses my body, and my mind floats in a dream-like haze. I shake my head to clear it, and the world tilts to one side.
I flap my wings to correct, but they barely move as a dense fog wraps tight around my mind. My eyelids blink open and closed as sleep tries to claim me.
I do not understand what is happening, but when pain arcs through my leg from the black arrow, still embedded in my flesh, a moment of clarity pierces the darkness, and I growl low in my throat.
Curse the humans. The arrow was tipped with poison.
Panic grips me in an iron vise as I glance down at the female in my front paw and find her unconscious. I must locate a place to land and get her to safety before the poison renders me unconscious as well.
Mustering my strength, I dip my left wing, catching the current. I spread them wide, allowing the great sails to ride the wind, carrying us over the snow-covered forest and toward the Ice Mountains that my people call home.
My eyelids feel heavy and my mind unfocused as I struggle to remain alert. I just need to make it to the mountains and find a cave or someplace to shelter until the poison wears off. But as I scan the terrain, my vision begins to blur, and I know I will not make it much farther.
A small cottage in the distance catches my eye. Nestled in the center of the forest, it’s far enough away from any settlements that it should be safe. Despite the snow that blankets the woods, there is no smoke rising from the chimney, suggesting this place must be abandoned, for humans cannot survive in these cold conditions without the warmth of fire. At least, not for very long.
Clenching my jaw, I make my way toward it. If I can just get us there, we have a chance. If not, my mate is as good as dead. Sending a silent prayer to the gods, I ask for the strength to reach the shelter.
We glide low over the trees, their snow-covered tops brushing my scales and exploding in puffs of white powder as I beat my wings awkwardly, struggling to land. I grit my teeth as we crash and tumble through the thick branches. Holding my mate close to my chest, I twist at the last second onto my back, shielding her from injury as we slam to the ground. A sharp crack slices the air and pain arcs through my left wing like fire.
An agonized roar rips from my throat, and I shift into my two-legged form as we skid across the ice and snow, banging into the cottage door. Fighting the sedative effects of the poison, I blink several times and force myself to stand.
I hoist my mate into my arms and kick open the door, slamming it shut behind us. My nostrils flare. Whoever lived here is gone and has been for a while. Barely able to remain upright, I stumble toward the fireplace. Drawing in a deep breath, I gather my fire and then release a stream of flame to the stacked cord of wood in the hearth.
Relief fills me as it catches immediately, but it is short-lived as I glance over my shoulder. My left wing hangs at an odd angle by my side, the support joint dislocated and swollen. I suffered this injury many times in my youth; fortunately, I know how to correct it.
Gritting my teeth, I fully extend it. Sharp pain arcs across my wing, and I bite back a roar as it snaps firmly into place.
Fierce protectiveness floods my veins as I glance down at my T’kara, lying unresponsive in my grasp. She needs warmth or she will not survive the night. Pushing through my agony, I wrap my arms and wings solidly around her smaller form.
