Page 130 of Conspirators' Kingdom

Robbed of her ability to speak or sob, and terrified that this strange body might harm Mereruka, she could do nothing more than look upon him and ache. Deep gashes, swelling, broken bones, a leg twisted at the wrong angle—Mereruka’s life was fading. She wanted nothing more than to see him healed, to erase his pain, and then to lock him away somewhere safe and kill any who approached. She had tried to bathe his wounds in her blood, hoping they would heal him, but it was for nought. Taisiya was no true dragon.

The first to find her was, unsurprisingly, Vasilisa. When she emerged from the shadow nearest, her shock was palpable. Vasilisa had once explained that everyone’s shadow had a certain feel to it, and that if she familiarized herself with someone’s, she could find them again with ease.

Taisiya hoped the darkness mage trusted her magic more than her eyes.

“Taisiya?” Vasilisa asked, hesitant, half-backed into the shadow.

Taisiya did her best to nod her head and lifted her wing to show Mereruka.

Vasilisa approached warily, her eyes flicking down to Mereruka, assessing his condition. She sucked in a sharp breath at the extent of his injuries.

“He needs to see a healer. Will you let me take him to his soldiers?”

Taisiya nodded, but reluctantly. She didn’t want to be parted from him, but she wasn’t certain she would be able to follow. She’d managed flight, but not the landing, and wasn’t confident she would succeed at take-off. In the meantime, she preferred to hide from the fae that had changed her, lest he snare her in his magic once more.

There were worse forms than that of a dragon.

“I’ll come back for you once he’s healed and surrounded by his soldiers. Will you be… alright?”

Taisiya nodded again. She wished she could warn Vasilisa about the spy in their ranks, but if her friend were there, the bastard wouldn’t stand a chance of harming Mereruka. How frustrating not to be able to speak!

“Stay here and remain hidden. Radjedef is tucked away safely, but his soldiers aren’t to be fully trusted.”

Taisiya snorted. As if she didn’t already know.

Vasilisa nodded, her expression grave as she gingerly took Mereruka from under Taisiya’s wing and slipped into the void with him.

All that was left was to wait and to remain vigilant… and not let the hearts, both buried and unearthed, tempt her out into the open.

Mereruka woke with a start, surprised by the absence of pain as well as his wife. A quick survey of his formerly broken bones assured him that he’d been properly healed. He only prayed his glamour had held. It was night, and a brazier had been lit near his bed, but he could tell little else from within the tent erected for him, save that it was not made by magic and he was still in the desert. Hushed, angry voices were reaching a crescendo outside.

“You’re awake. Good,” Vasilisa whispered from the omnipresent shadows.

“Where is Taisiya?”

“Safe for now, but not for long. The soldiers haven’t found her yet.”

Mereruka stiffened.

“Take me to her if you know where she is. She has been magically altered. If the transformation isn’t reversed within the span of a day and night, it may become permanent.”

Vasilisa held out an inky, flickering hand, bidding him to grab hold and follow her into the void. Mereruka didn’t hesitate this time. When he’d regained his bearings, he was under a slab of rock, facing a dragon not much larger than a horse. Relief coursed through him. Recognition flared in those purple eyes as they spotted him in the dark.

“Don’t fight me, Taisiya. I will make this right.”

He inspected the magic with his spell-sight, wary lest a trick or trap had been woven into it. Confident no such thing had been done, he overwhelmed the spell and Taisiya’s magic with his own, unmaking her. The horror of that alone made his gorge rise, his wife’s form melting before his eyes until she was nothing. But the spell was not over, and so he swallowed down bile as he returned her to her natural form one limb at a time. When she finally stood on two legs, she faltered in her step. Mereruka caught her up in his arms and she shook.

“Th-there’s a spy, glamoured to look like one of our soldiers. He d-did this to me.”

Mereruka squeezed her tight and stroked her hair, burying his face in her neck. He prayed this was not some strange fever dream, that she was truly alive with him now. There would be time for anger and fear later. All that mattered was the soul-deep relief that she was safe right now.

“Give me a moment, love,” he murmured against her skin.

She wrapped her arms around him and sighed, relieved, even as tremors still wracked her body.

In the quiet, he could hear the shuffling of Vasilisa’s feet as she waited for their moment to end.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes, Vasilisa,” Mereruka griped.

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