Chapter Three: Return
Four solemn-faced Lycans stood before the arched doorway, their eyes flickering across the room but never resting on us. They were the four women of the Luna-guard; beautiful, but dangerous women with strength coiling in their toned muscles and a solid, unbreakable resolve that their lives would be given in protection of the young woman standing beside me.
There were no words for this moment, nothing that even Dem could think of to say as we began to move through the portal. First, two of the Luna-guard went, then Jenna and two more of the Lycans. The Riders went next; my body was trembling, and my limbs were cold as I forced myself to step towards the door. Shadows slinking along the cool stone whispered that this doorway had been built centuries ago, hidden away in the remote countryside of Ireland, thought to be nothing more than a relic of an ancient people. That was what the magic surrounding it allowed people to see. It lay forgotten, abandoned because it was not some majestic castle or fort.
To those of magic-less blood, it was just a rough mound of stone in the corner of a farmer's field in the West, beloved by the family who owned the fields. But I knew that one day it would be torn down to build a shed, or destroyed because it was a nuisance, and one more portal binding Valaxia to the human realm would be gone.
This one wasn't known, so it was perfect for our crossing. As Dem stepped forward and vanished before me, I stopped to take one more look at the rolling countryside around me. A pang of homesickness had struck me violently when I landed in the country and heard the accents, or recognised the ticks of people's humour. We had travelled in cars and I listened to Dem marvel at the tight, small country roads with too many potholes to count and wondered what I would have been doing here at this time had things been different.
I had to tell myself it wasn't my home anymore. My home was a place I couldn't find, a soul I was searching for, so I had turned away from the windows and tried to get some sleep.
Dem's body vanished, and I stepped forward into the coolness of the portal next. For a moment, there was only a cold chill on my skin, and then I felt it.
There was a rush of magic-laden air filling my lungs and I gasped as if I hadn't taken a true breath in months. The air of Valaxia, burdened with magic and free of toxins, rushed through me. An ever-present headache seemed to clear, and my low, vicious mood shifted. I stepped off the portal platform, a slap of stone that had been worn down by centuries of storms, and a strange feeling of euphoria filled my veins. It was like the air here was a drug and the human realm had sucked me dry.
Jenna stood just before the edge, and I could see one of her guards, a dark-skinned woman with serious and watchful eyes, tracking how close she stood as if she would lunge if Jenna so much as made to slip. I stepped up beside her and just stared. All around, Valaxia was in a bloom of colour. Spring was slowly emerging into summer and the colours were magnificent. The trees, that stretched as far as the eye could see, were thick and luscious. The grass was thick, and a warm breeze tracked across my skin like a comfort.
I was nearly careless as I descended the smooth stone steps, staring at everything in wonder. Gabriel slowed so I fell into step beside him, and he had a content smile on his face as the feel of Valaxia sunk into him. As I watched the sun catch on his golden hair and how it made Dem's eyes glimmer, a sobering thought struck me.
"This is the first true summer I have seen in Valaxia." I only cast a glance to the sun blazing among the clouds, mere wisps among the azure blue of the sky.
Gabriel glanced to the sky. "It's nothing much. It practically rained all through last summer."
I thought of the cold, windowless cell with the damp stone where a skull watched me during many lonely nights. "Did it?"
Gabriel went to say something else, but he stopped himself. A red flush travelled up his neck, staining his cheeks, and his violet eyes shifted down to me in guilt. "I am an idiot."
I just gave him a smile and continued on down the stairs. They wound down the steep hillside where plumes of fox-gloves grew, and bees danced along the flowers, their buzz breaking the silence of the wild countryside beyond. The stairs turned again and I perked up, spotting a line of carriages waiting with fine, dark-coated mounts that pawed at the earth while their wings flared impatiently.
A male figure stood before them all and I nearly stopped in my tracks as I surveyed him. I had not seen Kalan since Ashbourne. I had talked to him on the phone and discussed Jenna, but to see my old friend here was...strange. Cyan eyes flashed to Jenna and a beautiful smile crossed his face. She picked up her pace, flying down past the Luna-guard to throw herself into Kalan's arms with a laughing cry.
I looked away as I descended the rest of the steps, and heard Kalan call my name.
"Neely." Kalan's eyes were crinkled warmly. "Twice now, I have thought a good friend of mine has died."
"It's been too long, Kalan."
The Lycan smiled, white teeth bared with fangs and all, and a large hand reached out before I was drawn into a tight and short embrace. Shadows leaked under the tanned skin of the future Lycan King, sensing the animal tightly leashed within and the strong beat of a healthy heart.
When he let me go, I pulled back with a gentle smile. Kalan motioned to the carriages with a knowing look. "Your presence here in Valaxia has been carefully contained. I have a secure location waiting for you and only my most trusted know you're here. Not even my father knows."
"Thank you, Kalan."
He moved to stop me as I went to step away, aware that perhaps the others would want to say something to him. "You are my friend, Neely Lynch, and my future sister by marriage. You could have asked me five months ago for my help and I would have given you everything I had."
A lump rose in my throat. We had considered it. But everyone had tried using Valaxia's vast resources when I first went missing. My face had been plastered in the papers, and on posters and trackers from the Lycans. Blood-trackers, elite members of the Vampire army, had been sent out to find me, and even a squadron of Riders had been solely tasked with discovering my whereabouts. And yet, they never found me, even when I languished in the known lair of Acheron.
A different approach was needed. We had to match the underhanded tactics of the Seal with our own. Clearing my throat, I just looked away. "It didn't work the last time. We needed to try something different."
Kalan just nodded. "Welcome back, Neely."
"Glad to be back, Kalan."
I watched the countryside unfurl beyond the confines of the window. As we sped around a corner, the rolling green landscape dipped to reveal a glittering lake the seemed to spread out as far as the eye could see. Sunlight sparkled and danced off the surface and fins cut the still surface occasionally, the flash of a glistening tail flinging over the water before disappearing into the depths again.
In the distance, there was a trail of heavy clouds, but it hadn't yet touched the peacefulness of the day or the serenity that pulsed through the countryside. An easy magic, untouched by the horrors of pollution and greed. A land that was not dying, its energy fed the people of Valaxia and brightened the sky, making the air strong and revitalising.
My arm was curled on the open sill, and no one complained of the wind ripping through the small confines of the carriage. The air filled them too, expelling the muggy headaches that came when our kind ventured for too long into the human realm. I had been born in that realm, but this was my home. As horrible as my experiences had been in Valaxia, they were also filled with some of the happiest times of my life and I would take that precarious balance over the unknowing, unadventurous life I had lived before.
Tendrils of my white-blond hair were billowing back, and the shadows skittering along my skin were still and content. But it was only for this journey, because once we stopped life would catch up with me again and the heaviness in the pit of my stomach, the panic that robbed me of nearly every breath, would return.
I caught sight of Lycans occasionally, darting between the cars and running on powerful legs. The Luna-guard moved between the alignment of carriages, never faltering, never stopping. The Pegusi never faltered either and eventually I moved out of the wind, my lungs filled with the spring air of Valaxia.
Dem moved slightly, looking at me expectantly. Jamie was tucked into his other side, frowning in her short nap, and even Peter was asleep across from us, his snores rumbling with frightening intensity.
The rest of the journey passed in comfortable silence. None of us, even when the napping two woke, had enough energy to start and hold a conversation. We passed deeper into the countryside and Peter perked up as we passed down a road where the trees rose and stretched towards the darkening sky. The pines creaked, and the wind whispered through the wood.
Leaning forward, I felt the calling of wind as loud as if a hurricane was tearing the carriage apart. A grin broke across Peter's face, a light shining in his eyes that made my gut clench. I looked away hurriedly as we broke through the line of trees to reveal a small, quaint little house waiting for us.
Vines crept along the white-painted walls, the flowers in full bloom. A bush of black lace sat like a lonely sentinel on the grass. The windows had been opened to the world, and atop the unused chimney a bird's nest sat comfortably. I couldn't see any birds in it, but the scene was so picturesque that I imagined what it would be like to sit out in this comfortable sun with an easel in front of me and paints spread out around me.
The vision died just as suddenly as it rose. I couldn't let myself enjoy things like that when Nethore was suffering.
Then, like he belonged to this image, I noticed Beau – Peter's dragon – sitting patiently on the grass. His large eyes were fixated on our carriage, his massive clubbed tail swinging from side to side, gouging out chunks of dirt. Other than that, the only sign of his excitement was the wind stirring around him, gathering up the clumps of grass.
Peter had a hand on the door as we rolled to a stop and nearly threw himself out in his hurry. I couldn't look at the reunion, couldn't bear to stomach the utter love and devotion that pulsed between Rider and dragon. Jenna eased herself from the carriage she had been sharing solely with Kalan. Her lilac eyes found me instantly, solemn and still older than the girl possessing them.
"I made a call," Jenna said.
The Luna-guard began to surround the cottage, their mighty chests heaving as thick claws dug into the soil.
"I am surprised you do not have a guard with you too, Kalan," I mused.
The Lycan motioned to the Luna-guard. "Their first priority is Jenna, but they will move to guard my back also. The Luna, the Queen of the Lycans, is the most important member of the royal family. She's the one who holds the most sway and power with the Lycan people."
Jenna scoffed. "He says that all the time, but it isn't really true. Lycans need a balancing pair to lead them. Two people, whether it be two men, two women or a man and a woman."
He gave her a soft look, his lips pursed in thought. Hurriedly, I began to look away as the Luna-guard began to shift. Some retained their clothes, and some shifted into nothing but their skin. None of the women held any shame for their bodies, making no move to cover themselves or reach for some sort of clothing.
I was decidedly jealous over the tone of their arms and stomachs, and the long reach of their legs. Beside them, I seemed to appear especially short.
"Let's get something to eat. Our other guests are coming shortly," Kalan said flippantly.
A growl tore from Gabriel's throat, a fleeting flash of panic passing over his face. "You lied!"
The Lycan's snarl rumbled but Beau was rising, wind stirring under his large and fully healed wings. His mind touched us all, that howling cavern of thought halting all anger.
"I told the others. It is time that we all came together. They will not spill our secret."
I knew instantly who the others were. The only other Riders to have escaped the mountain, who had flown away unknowingly as we stayed behind to have each other's back for one final time. I looked to the sky, and to the storm brewing in the distance.
It was time for the final move.
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The world was made of steel and stone and soil.
It was cold under his abused scales, the chill leaking in through the torn skin underneath. His wings were brittle and unused where they were chained tight, the steel sinking deep into his battered body. Nethore knew it was going to leave a scar just like the ones on his Rider's back.
She would never have put something so cold, so painful on him. Her saddles were leather, like a soft tickle on his chest. Her weight was nothing, a comfort between his shoulder-blades, her laughter something to chase away the nothingness that was the world without her.
Claws clicked on the stone as he shifted. Scenting the air, he hoped for something other than the dead stale-ness of this damp room, but the only scents were the rotted copper of his own dried blood and the corpse of the last pitiful magic wielder who was too cocky for her own good. She had put something horrible smelling into her hair, and her eyes had been so blue.
A trick.
One that only lasted a minute, but he had been fooled. He had seen the hair, seen the eyes and for a moment, it was her. Then the bond stayed dead and cold and the witch laughed as she flounced towards him. She thought him broken, hurt by her games.
He showed her what it was to be broken. Her spine snapped, her body bent in a fit of darkened rage.
A cry rang out in the distance – a keening cry of pain and the chains rattled too loudly as Nethore shifted, straining against them until his talons dug into the stone and the whole building seemed to shake. It was Astor this time, and he could feel the crashing sounds of his will leaking out under the strain.
"Be strong, Astor."
A shadowed bond had been woven at the mountain.
Astor's mind was tumultuous, and Nethore was always reminded of the cliffs at the Stacked Coast where the water passed on for miles, touching the sky. It churned now, in pain and rage. A desperation all dragons felt when they could not stretch their wings or feel the miles under them.
His own twitched against the chains holding them, straining, yearning to stretch. This was not what dragons were.
Nethore tried to think of other things; happy things which always involved her. He would have done anything for her and in his last moments of consciousness at Naughton, he had hidden her and her little Rider friends from the witches prowling. He hid her first because she was his Rider, and the others second because she would have been upset if they were hurt and she already was too upset about things that he couldn't fight for her.
The door opened.
Slitted eyes turned that way instantly, a hiss filling the oppressive silence. The slim cut of a man stood there, cold eyes assessing. Already, his mind was a gross touch on his, twisting at the bond that was not his to touch. A snarl followed that hiss.
"It would be easier, beast...if you just obeyed."
Nethore snapped his powerful jaws, still bloodied from the last one who wandered too close. The mind-toucher just smiled softly as if it were a joke. Nethore didn't find it very funny.
The man stepped just close enough that Nethore, when he strained as hard as he could, could just tip a talon against his chest. There was no fire here – there was something in the air that punched him straight into the ribs when he drew a breath to draw fire. It seared and stabbed. The air was evil.
"You will obey, dragon," the mind-toucher told him. "They always do, and we will find you another 'human' who doesn't cause as much trouble, or we'll split open the eggs of your spawn and meld their minds into utter obedience."
The Vidalin's body was taunt at the word 'human.' How could this mind-toucher say her name like that, while everyone else called her Neely?
"What a stupid nickname," the mind-toucher scoffed. "A nickname made up by an imbecile of a dragon who could not, and still cannot string together proper sentences. Your Rider was poorly trained, your egg was damaged well before you were hatched, leading to the most incompetent Rider and dragon that Valaxia has ever seen."
Nethore lay down, pure black rage twisting and raging through his body. Eyes, as bright and wild as the ocean, stared down at the mind-toucher. There were chains on his body, but there was nothing in this world that was going to keep the Vidalin down forever. Every day, every minute, the darkness in the room seemed to pulse and grow. The mind-toucher didn't realise, none of them realised, that the Vidalin was the stretch of darkness, the shadows that permeated the nightmares of a feeble mind. That kind of darkness could be a terror or a soothing touch and it could lie in wait forever.
They thought him broken, but the Vidalin was waiting.
He could be very patient.