Page 62 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
“That may be why the shadowblades were never found by the mages,” Abraxis says as he leans against the bookcase, the wood creaking softly under his weight. The scent of night air and cedar that always clings to him intensifies as he shifts, wafting across the room.
“What do you mean?” Mina turns her head and rests it on my shoulder, her hair tickling my neck, silken strands of emerald and silver catching on the stubble along my jaw.
“The elves, about a hundred years ago, hired the mages to find the shadowblades and couldn’t,” I explain, kissing Mina on the side of her temple, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. “The mages tried hiring basilisks to hunt them too, but we refused. One green dragon in the nest could exterminate the population in seconds with their acid.” Mina relaxes in my arms and sighs, her breath warm against my collarbone, the tension slowly ebbing from her muscles.
“So basically everyone in the mountain can’t be sensed; it’s those outside of the mountain that are in potential danger,” Mina deduces from the evidence we’ve given her, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my forearm, the light touch raising goosebumps on my skin.
“We can use this to our advantage,” Klauth stops pacing and looks at Callan, the sudden cessation of movement drawing all eyes to him. His ancient gaze is intense, burning with millennia of accumulated strategy. “Tactically, where would the best place be to set up an ambush for the mages?”
Callan goes to the bookcase and pulls down a thin leather-bound book, the spine cracking as he opens it, releasing the musty scent of aged paper and binding glue. He lays it on the table with a soft thud that sends dust motes dancing in the lamplight. “The gem dragon territory. They are immune to the mages’ powers. Unlike the other dragon species, their lifespan is short, about a hundred and fifty years. They don’t hit wyrm status because they are not considered true dragons scientifically speaking.” His words make me tilt my head, the muscles in my neck stretching pleasantly with the movement.
“Why aren’t they true dragons?” I watch Callan glance from Klauth to Thauglor, the silent communication between the ancients palpable, like electricity in the air before a storm.
“They are mixed with fae, more accurately created by fae,” Thauglor says and looks at the map, his taloned finger tracing a boundary line, the sharp nail scratching softly against the parchment. “If the mages hurt a gem dragon, they will incur the wrath of the fae, and that works in our favor,” Thauglor says as he stares at Klauth, his sapphire eyes reflecting the light like precious stones.
“It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, old friend,” Klauth moves closer and rests his hand on Thauglor’s shoulder, the leather of his gloves creaking with the gesture. “How do you plan to pull this off and make it look like it’s not a setup?”
Arching a brow, Thauglor’s smile turns feral, revealing teeth slightly too sharp to be human, gleaming white against his tanned skin. “We pretend we are coming to arrange a marriage for Lily. Make it look like we are touring the different nests looking for a suitable matchfor her,” he suggests, the words hanging heavy in the air, almost visible in their weight.
Mina rumbles low, the sound more felt than heard, vibrating from her body into mine where we touch. I watch the scales on her shoulder and back of her neck move like a wave of emerald and silver, catching the light with each ripple, a physical manifestation of her dragon’s displeasure. “Pretending makes my dragoness angry; she doesn’t like the idea of even mentioning it. We don’t want our hatchling bound to anything less than her mate.” Mina crosses her arms over her chest and huffs, the exhale carrying the faint scent of ozone, a warning of the storm brewing within her.
“To end the mage threat and keep all of your current and future hatchlings safe, it’s worth it,” I whisper next to her ear before kissing her over her pulse, tasting the rapid beat of her heart beneath her skin, feeling the heat rising from her as her dragon stirs closer to the surface.
“Fine, but we still don’t like it,” Mina half grumbles under her breath, the words vibrating against my lips where they rest against her neck.
“The dragons of the nest will go, and you too, Balor. You’ll be on Lily duty,” Thauglor says, and I watch the scales along Mina’s shoulders rise and fall, making a soft rasping sound against the fabric of her shirt, like sandpaper on wood.
“My cousins will stay up here with my other hatchlings and the rest of my mates. Worst case, Ziggy takes his progeny into the hidden cavern until our return,” Mina says as I watch her manipulate tiny sparks of lightning between her fingertips, the miniature bolts casting blue-white light across her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her features, turning her into something otherworldly and dangerous.
“You’re on edge,” I state, and it draws the attention of the entire nest, the sudden silence deafening as all eyes turn to us, the only sound the crackle of Mina’s lightning and the soft breathing of the hatchlings.
“Of course I am,” Mina leaps up off of my lap, the sudden absence of her weight leaving me cold, and starts pacing the room. All eyes are on her as she moves, her footsteps sharp against the hardwood, her agitation a tangible force that seems to electrify the surrounding air. The hatchlings follow behind their mother, tiny claws clicking against the floor, scales gleaming in the light.
“I am taking my daughter,” she pauses and motions to the small black dragoness behind her. Lily’s obsidian scales absorbing the light rather than reflecting it, making her look like a piece of the night sky brought to earth. “Into another dragon’s territory to lure the mages of all creatures there. All under the false pretense that we are looking for a possible arranged marriage for her.” Mina throws her hands up in the air, the movement causing her scales to catch the light, flashing like signals. “Forgive me for being a little on edge. I am putting my baby in harm’s way just to weaken the mages.” Mina growls, the sound rumbling deep in her chest, too primal to be human, and starts walking around the room again, each step punctuated by the sharp tap of her boots.
I honestly don’t see how any of this is going to work out, my doubts sitting like a stone in my gut, heavy and cold. But if the ancients think it’s the best course of action, then it’s worth the shot. I watch Mina pace, her movements fluid despite her agitation, and can’t help but admire the coiled power in her body, the way she commands the attention of everyone in the room. The scent of her—iron and wildflowers and the ozone tang of barely contained lightning—fills my nostrils, reminding me why I bound myself to this extraordinary female, despite the constant danger that seems to swirl around her. The basilisk within me stirs, responding to her power with its own, a duality that makes us perfect for each other. Predators recognizing akindred spirit. Whatever comes next, I’ll be at her side, protecting our daughter, ready to face the mages and whatever other threats emerge from the shadows that seem to constantly haunt our nest.
Two days later…
To keep up appearances, we have stopped at two other nests on the way to the gem dragon nest. So far so good, nothing of note has happened yet. The air grows thinner as we ascend higher into the mountains, the cold biting at my exposed skin despite the heat radiating from Mina’s scales beneath me. At the copper dragon nest, we were made aware of humans being spotted almost an hour away, the news delivered in hushed tones that nonetheless carried an undercurrent of fear. Mina gathered up the family quickly, her movements sharp and deliberate, scales shifting with barely contained tension beneath my legs.
We took flight again, the sudden lurch as she pushed off the ground, sending my stomach into my throat momentarily. The world falls away beneath us; the landscape transformed into a patchwork of green forests and gray stone. We know they are tracking her and Thauglor, and it appears our plan is in motion, the knowledge sitting cold and heavy in my gut like a stone.
I sit with Lily against Mina’s frill as we fly between Thauglor and Klauth, the tiny hatchling’s body warm against mine despite the icy wind that whips past us, stinging my eyes and making them water. Her obsidian scales absorb what little warmth the sun provides, while Mina’s body heat rises through her emerald and silver plates, creating a bubble of comfort against the harsh elements. Abraxis is on Thauglor’s back for this long part of the journey, his silhouette unmistakable even from this distance. His wing still cannot sustainflight for as many hours as is needed today. The membrane thinner than it should be, veins more prominent where they should have faded with healing.
Klauth roars, the sound so powerful it vibrates through the air and into my chest cavity, rattling my ribcage. Then, several seconds later, Thauglor does the same, his deeper voice creating a harmonious counterpoint that seems to echo off the mountains surrounding us. I watch Abraxis run and leap off of Thauglor’s back and shift, his human form blurring and expanding in midair, bones cracking and reforming with sounds like splitting wood. The minute he’s airborne, he roars, the sound young and vibrant compared to the ancients, and then Mina joins in, her voice higher but no less commanding. The cacophony is almost physical in its intensity, pressing against my eardrums.
Lily does her little roar, more of a high-pitched chirp that carries the promise of future power. I watch Mina turn her head to look at her baby; the movement causing muscles to ripple beneath her scales in fluid waves. If a dragon could smile, Mina is. I can see the corner of her mouth slightly turned up before she faces forward again, a maternal pride that transcends species.
A symphony of roars rises from below us, each distinctive voice identifying a different species of gem dragon. The sound bounces off the mountain faces, creating an eerie chorus that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Mina circles overhead, her massive wings catching updrafts that create pockets of stillness in our descent. The landscape below comes into sharper focus with each passing moment—crystalline structures jutting from the mountainside, reflecting sunlight in prismatic displays that dazzle the eye.
Klauth lands first, the impact sending a shudder through the ground that I can see even from our position in the air. Dust and small debris swirl up around his massive form, catching the multicolored light from the crystal formations. Then Thauglor descends, his landingmore controlled but still powerful enough to create small tremors. Finally, Abraxis touches down, his smaller form creating less disturbance but still impressive in its grace.
I don’t understand what Mina is waiting for until Thauglor spreads his wings wide; the membranes catching the sunlight like sails unfurled, casting a shadow over the assembled gem dragons. Mina starts her descent then, spiraling down in ever-tightening circles, the air rushing past us with increasing velocity, making my eyes water and breath catch. Her landing is controlled and not even slightly jarring, like how Abraxis used to land, her massive talons gripping the earth with precision that belies her size. She remains standing, her body tense and alert, head held high. Lily and I move away from her frill, the tiny hatchling’s claws scratching lightly against her mother’s scales as she repositions herself. Mina raises her frill, the membranes stretching taut and revealing the delicate network of veins within, and arches her neck in a display that is both beautiful and intimidating.
Voices from beings I can’t yet see rise to meet us, the words carrying on the mountain breeze. They are all saying what, as a family we have said before. Mina looks like the goddess Tiamat reincarnated, her scales catching the light in ways that transform ordinary green and silver into something otherworldly, almost divine. The comparison isn’t far off—her presence commands attention, draws the eye like a lodestone pulls iron filings.
For whatever reason, Mina is refusing to lie down, her body language radiating defiance, tail twitching slightly in agitation, stirring up small clouds of dust with each movement. Slowly she turns her head and stares somewhere, her golden eyes narrowing to slits, before deciding to lie down, the movement surprisingly graceful for a creature of her size. Her scales rasp against the rocky ground as she settles, the sound like thousands of tiny knife blades being sharpened simultaneously.
