Page 120 of The Shadow Wand

I eye the dragon with guarded surprise. “How much blood? You already bit me.”

“Only a few drops,” Effrey explains, but I don’t like how the dragon is now smirking at me.

But...a dragon ally.

I think of Rhys, Cael’s second, and wonder if that relationship is what fealty means to a dragon. Rashly decided, I pull up the bejeweled silk of my sleeve and hold the wrist of my wand arm out to the dragon.

Raz’zor springs forward in a flash, and before I can even think to jerk away, his teeth are locked on my wrist, his fangs puncturing my skin with a heated sting, but only a little, like a cat biting in warning. He holds on, and I can feel him pulling on my fire power. I close my eyes and take a deep, warm breath, my whole body momentarily suffused with a delicious, ruddy heat that feels like sheer power.

Raz’zor releases me, his eyes burning hot. A small amount of blood trickles from puncture wounds that glow as red as the small dragon’s fire, then disappear along with the sting on my shoulder as more powerful heat rushes through me and my vision flashes red.

As if I’ve absorbed his flame.

Black Witch, we are bound.

Startled, I feel my eyes widen at the sound of a razor-edged, hissing voice in my mind.

Raz’zor gives me a smug, knowing look.

I blink in surprise and look to Effrey. “He just spoke to me,” I say, breathless. “In my mind.”

“You can do it too,” Effrey tells me eagerly. “Concentrate on what you want to say, then send it forward with a breath. Right toward him.”

I think my question. Really focus on it with everything in me. Then push it toward the dragon with a hard exhalation.What does the pledge of fealty mean, Raz’zor?

You have my fire,comes the assured reply.

I pause, shocked to be communicating this way, but quickly steady myself.

I need your help, I send out to him with renewed purpose.I need allies.

You have my fealty.

Reflexively, I send out a rush of invisible golden Wyvernfire to Raz’zor, and he meets my fire once more, bolstering it in a heady rush of his red flame, our fire power joining and blazing to a vivid orange. All of a sudden all my muscles feel stronger. My blood is running hotter, my fire affinity line coursing with heightened deep-orange Wyvernfire.

Our fires,I marvel to him,they strengthen each other.

As is the way with hordes, Raz’zor tells me.A Wyvern horde shares fire and feeds fire. We are a horde now.

A horde of two.

I look to the Ishkart assassin sprawled out on the ground. The hour is growing late, and not only is there a dead body in the middle of the room, but in a few minutes’ time, Aunt Vyvian will return to escort me to the Sealing ceremony.

The longing to have competent, steel-nerved Lukas here with me rises.

“Lukas needs to know about the assassin,” I say to Thierren, who nods.

“I’ll get word to him,” he assures me.

“What will you do with the body?” I ask.

“I’ll put a freeze spell around it and we’ll slide it under the bed. We’ll all be gone before the spell fades.” He glances at the hole in the ceiling, the crawl space revealed, then glances down at the charred, bloodied carpet.

“I’ll keep anyone from coming in here,” Sparrow says to Thierren, who nods in unspoken agreement.

I glance again at the assassin and his discarded rune sword, the golden runes burning bright along its length. I swallow, an icy fear working its way up my spine. “Thierren, what are the chances that they’ve sent more than one assassin after me?”

“Quite good,” he replies without hesitation as he gives me a frank look. “Since the eastern forces clearly know that you’re the Black Witch.”

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