Page 166 of Evil Hearts

Gambits & Kismet

Ruth Ryan

Chapter One

Echoes of steadyclicking wind down the stone hallway and into Oryn’s ears, warning him of an impending interruption. His eyes continue to scan the words on the page in front of him as he tries to finish the paragraph, or even page. Oryn sighs, his focus too broken to absorb what his eyes read. Redoubling his efforts, he blinks rapidly and reads the passage again. When he’s still unable to absorb the words on the page, he rubs his temples and tries once again, finally able to focus beyond the clicking footfalls heading his way. By the time the reverberations have died down, he’s nearly finished with the page. When he flips it, he’s excited to discover he had been correct, and is nearly finished with the book entirely.

“Oryn,” a voice calls to him in a deep baritone. Still reading his book with fervor, Oryn ignores it and waits for its owner to enter the room. When they do, he finally looks up to see his companion, arms weighed down by a wooden shipping container as he walks on his hind legs. “Whoops,” he adds remorsefully when he catches Oryn reclining with a book, his plated shoulders rising with the word of apology.

“Two minutes, Zath,” Oryn calls with a wink before he returns his gaze back to the book and the words within. Once he places the box on the long desk amidst the seating area, the drake isblessedly quiet while he waits, and Oryn finishes in no time at all.

“Good part?” Zathrian questions, and Oryn nods enthusiastically in return.

“Good book, actually,” he replies, holding the leather bound tome up and wiggling it for the drake to see. “I’m glad to have gotten it finished before heading out to raid. I wouldn’t have been able to stand leaving a few pages unread, and taking it with me would have been too stressful.”

Zath looks at him, his head tilting to one side. “Too stressful?” he questions, humor lacing his words as his sharp eyes wrinkle toward one another.

“I couldn’t risk its safety, Zath,” Oryn replies, stroking the cover gently, his sharp talons retracted as they always are when he touches his books.

“And staying for a few extra hours to finish it was out of the question?” the drake teases, causing Oryn to huff out a scalding stream of air from his nostrils. “I should have known,” Zath says, his tone light and playful before he taps the wooden box on the desk. “This is your latest shipment,” he explains before handing Oryn a packing slip.

The dragon Prince unfolds the sheet of paper and scans the list of titles with glee, heat rising to his chest showing his excitement.

“I think I’ll wait to shelve them,” Oryn says, then adds, “That way I have something to look forward to once I return to this prison.” His eyes glance upward at the stone ceiling. Already his mood has soured at the mere idea of returning to his home after his raiding period is over. He’s done everything he could to make his lair comfortable. Yet apprehension still rises in him every time he thinks about being forced to stay within, or near, those stone walls. He lives for the freedom he has while raiding, andcan’t stop himself from wishing he could have the privilege to come and go as he pleases all the time.

“I’m sure the number will grow with your adventures,” Zath says with reassurance. “It does every time you head out to raid.” Oryn nods to him sheepishly. “Plus, If I remember correctly this is only one of three shipments you requested from the Keepers. So those three, plus any more you find. It’s sure to keep you busy for at least a few months after your return.”

“Undoubtedly so,” Oryn says, agreeing with his friend. The pair had been companions for so long, they had begun to feel like family to one another, and Oryn couldn’t imagine his life without the drake by his side. Yes, Zath cares for his needs, helps him. Some might say, serves him, but it’s more than that. As a drake, Zathrian and the rest of his kind live to help others. It brings them a sense of fulfillment like little else does, and being Oryn’s chosen drake is a great honor to Zath and his family alike.

Lost in thought, his eyes land on his library. The thick stone shelves carved from the interior of the cave itself house his horde. When he first designed it, he hadn’t expected it to grow to such an immense size, but once he learned the wayward Keepers could still be entreated with collecting and sending him his books, he seized every opportunity he could to grow his library. From the small sitting area where they stand, he’s able to look at the rows and rows of titles. Oryn takes a moment to cast his eyes on each of his favorites, and as always, some new additions he hasn’t even opened. He still hadn’t ever managed to read all of his collection before finding more to add to it, though that’s the kind of problem he rather enjoyed having.

Returning to himself, Oryn turns his attention back to his companion and bares his teeth in a smile. “Did another shipment come in?” he questions the drake, unable to hide the glowing heat of excitement illuminating his chest and the crystals jutting from his hide there.

Zath nods, guilt filling his features. He tries to turn away from the Prince, but before he can, Oryn catches the expression.

“Zathrian,” he says, his voice chastising. The drake turns back, and Oryn softens. “You know good and well the weeks you get to foray into the world and build your hoard aren’t enough. I won’t have you feeling guilt or even discomfort in having my help to grow that which is most important to you,” Oryn says, his tone soothing. “Especially since you are so very important to me.” Zath drops his face into his scaled hands, uncomfortable with receiving the praise and comfort. “Besides, you need a project to keep you busy while I’m gone or you’ll get too lonely.” The Prince nudges him with a wing, and the drake perks up. Oryn’s concern for Zath vanishes when the drake’s excitement is plain on his scaled face.

“I guess you’re correct on that account,” Zath concedes. “The lair does feel rather empty at times.” The drake nods. “Plus, without you making a mess of everything when I have my back turned, I run out of things to do,” he adds, looking pointedly at the pile of pillows on the stone floor Oryn hadn’t picked up or straightened after standing.

Oryn’s chest brightens in a hot blush at the scolding and he clears his throat.

“I’ve set out a series of books I think you might enjoy. If you felt so inclined to read them while I’m gone,” Oryn says, changing the subject. “Last time I went out to raid and you read what I left out …” the dragon Prince pauses. “Well, I truly enjoyed talking about them when I returned.”

Zath’s expression warms and he nods.

“What did you choose this time around?” the drake questions, and Oryn perks up at his interest.

“Without spoiling too much,” he begins, “it’s all about a form of magic that can bring others back from the dead. The hero has it and has to hide his ability from others, but he ends up savingthem all despite his ‘terrible power,’” Oryn explains, his taloned hands waving through the air excitedly as he speaks.

“Sounds different,” Zath replies with a shake of his head. “I might get to them after I’ve built a new shelf for my new babies.”

“Babies?” Oryn questions. He never heard Zath call his teacups babies before, but a dragon’s hoard was a thing that held utmost importance to him, so if his friend wanted to call them babies, he had no right to judge.

”Why not? I care for them. Clean them. Provide them a home,” Zath says, puffing up his chest with pride.

“All excellent points,” Oryn replies, holding in the laughter he feels burbling in his chest.

“Then of course with the new shelf I’ll have to organize them again,” the drake worries, his thick, armored hands caressing one then the other in front of his chest. “That will take some time. Of course, I don’t even know how I will decide to set them up again. They will all need a good cleaning as well.” Zath looks up at Oryn to find his eyes wide and playful and instantly, the drake’s chest brightens behind his scales. The tell tale blush of their kind heating his chest to a soft glow.

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