Page 80 of Redeeming the Dragon

Nightflame flapped his great, leathery wings, gaining traction, devouring the air, and off into the clouds we went.

Chapter 48

We flew through the day and well into the night. We bypassed waterfalls and lakes, rivers and canyons, great forests and deserts. We soared through time and the veils of magic that curtained off Moonswept from the rest of Aerisia, trusting Nightflame, who had been guided there by the Scraggen’s magic, to take us home. I slept, relaxing against Kidron, finally waking to the brush of his lips against my ear and his deep voice speaking my name.

“Lorna. See where Nightflame has brought us.”

Dawn had arrived while I slept. Now, I sat up, rubbing my eyes to look about. My legs were stiff from the long flight, my body sore, but a deep sense of awe quickly dispelled any physical discomfort. Nightflame was lowering himself steadily towards the earth, which allowed me to take in vast canyons of red rock, houses carved into cliff faces, high meadows—far too high for most animals to dwell—and a great canyon with dozens of waterfalls that sparked in the morning light.

“Surely these are Warkin lands,” I breathed.

“Nightflame has returned home,” Kidron said gravely. “This is my father’s realm.”

I twisted to see his face. “How will you be received?” I asked. True, we had defeated the Scraggen, releasing Kidron from his father’s ill-advised trade, but the fact remained that we had thwarted his father’s goal.

“I’m not certain,” Kidron answered. “If he chooses wrath, we will feed Nightflame and ourselves, then fly to your home.”

I nodded in acceptance, even as the great dragon landed gently on the ground, amid a circle of other dragons. I could hardly maintain my composure at the sight of so many massive beasts when one was more than enough to intimidate me. And yet, for all their ferocious appearance, the dragons scarcely batted an eye to see Nightflame descend among them with the two of us on his back. Realizing they intended no harm, I swallowed my fears and allowed my gaze to survey the landscape.

We were some distance outside the stone city, where white awnings draped between stone buildings to offer shade, for there were few trees. Other pale awnings extended from the front of homes carved into the cliffside. I longed to see all of it closer—the great marketplace, a bazaar, a temple, and, of course, the majestic waterfalls.

Kidron dismounted and raised his tattooed hands for me. I leaned down into his strength, allowing him to lift me off the serpent’s back. To my surprise, he swept me up against his chest in a hold that left my feet dangling in the air.

“What are you doing?” I half-laughed, pressed for air from the tightness of his embrace.

“Thanking you,” he said, “for bringing me home.” Slowly, he set me on my feet. I glanced up at him, surprised to see such raw emotion on his face. “I feared I would never see it again,” he admitted.

A motion beyond my dragon prince snagged my attention. I glanced past him to a lone figure, tall and imposing, approaching us. He strode up the bluff with a commanding gait, a regal presence, his hair shaven on the sides and drawn back like Kidron’s, his tattoos sprawling across his skin, and his beard cut close. His likeness to Kidron was too close for me to be ignorant of his identity. Indeed, even from a distance, I could see a vision of how my soon-to-be husband would look in thirty years.

“Kidron,” I said quietly, my hands still on his chest, “I believe your father approaches.”

Kidron twisted to glance behind him, going stiff, his arms still around me. He stared hard at the oncoming figure. I saw his throat constrict as he swallowed. Not only had he never thought to see Warkin lands again, he’d probably never thought to see his father again. And, yet, here he was. How would the meeting go? Of course, I’d not met Kidron’s father, but I didn’t think a king left his throne, his city, to stalk alone into the hills to greet his long-lost son if he wasn’t pleased to see him.

I disentangled myself from Kidron’s arms, stepping away.

“Go to him,” I said, placing my palm on his back and giving him a little push. “Go to your father.”

Kidron glanced at me, at Nightflame, then back at his father.

“What will I say?” he asked tightly.

“The same thing I will say to my parents who let me go with a dragon,” I said honestly. “They made a mistake, but I forgive them. You do forgive him, don’t you?”

“What if he does not ask for my forgiveness?”

“That is between you and him,” I said gently. “Go to him.See what he says.”

Kidron nodded shakily and walked away. I trailed behind as he threaded his way between colorful dragons of red, orange, black, white, midnight blue, and deep green. His posture was very straight and his shoulders stiff as a rod. He looked more like a man going to his execution than a son facing his sire. My heart cramped with pity, yet I sensed he would never be whole until he confronted the person who had essentially traded him away in marriage for the sake of power.

I, too, threaded silently between dragons who lifted their heads, whuffling the air, sniffing curiously as I passed, but offered me no resistance. At the brow of the hill, I stopped, watching as Kidron tread down the gentle slope towards his father who stalked up. At last, they met, stopping mere paces apart. Kidron stood above his father. I couldn’t help regarding how much of a king he appeared, standing there as his father stared up at him, speaking strange words in a tone I could easily interpret. Earnest, pleading, sincere.

I observed as Kidron listened to his father, weighing his words. I could not make this decision for him, nor would I, if I could. Only Kidron could decide whether he would choose reconciliation. I knew what I hoped would happen, but…

Kidron stepped closer, replying to his father in the same tongue. Quietly. Rapidly. His father flinched, bowing his head in shame, not lifting it until his son had finished speaking.

Disappointment settled in my bones.He has chosen not to forgive him. Well, that is his right.

I fully expected Kidron to turn away, come back to me, lead me to Nightflame, and direct the dragon to the Jeweled Isles. Instead, after a brief silence, the prince raised his hands, settling them on his sire’s shoulders. The Warkin looked up, a heartrending expression of fear and hope on his face. Hitherto, I’d not understood a word of their talk. Now, Kidron spoke again, saying a single name.

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