Page 58 of Water Dragon
There was also the raw power Malcolm still felt flowing in his veins. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before; the watermagic increased a thousand-fold. Something electric was inside of the sensation, as though at any moment he could lift off the floor, whether he shifted into dragon shape or not.
“Mal,” Iona breathed and when he looked down at himself, he realized his veins were glowing, but not their usual light blue—instead they were showing a deep purple.
He stared at them, but a soft growl, almost a purr, from his inner dragon set him at ease. This was not impossible, nor was it unnatural, and when he reached for the power, he could sense why it would manifest so differently. It wasn’t merely the watermagic in his veins anymore—it was all of the elemental magic at once, intermingled and free flowing. He had reached for them all when he sensed their binding spell; he had sought to free them and had yanked at threads that before had never been even considered. They had always been there but had never been examined as there had been no reason.
Malcolm raised his gaze to Leon.
“You were right,” Malcolm said. “To ask what would happen to us should one bond break. We are all connected. You’ve felt it because you can channel the elemental magic, but this… You thought tapping into each of the elements was reserved for a handful of outsiders. That you were meant to help keep the balance. Like Maize and her mother before her. But we are the balance, Leon. It lives in us, has its home within us. Did you truly think you could sever that bond? Did you truly believe the elements wouldn’t fight back?” Malcolm shook his head slowly. “There will be no draining of my father,” he said. “There will be no releasing the watermagic. No chaos. No transfer of power. My crown is not yours to take. It never was.”
“I beg to differ,” Leon said, upper lip curled in a snarl as the hand he’d been holding out tightened its fingers slowly.
Malcolm felt the tug of Leon’s magic reaching for him, like a hook embedding itself in the middle of his throat, a pinch of pain and then nothing. For a moment Malcolm thought he had imagined it, but then the pain returned, deep and cutting. It spread from the center of his throat and into every limb, making it impossible for him to make a sound.
Iona screamed his name and then the pain stopped.
He dropped to the floor as though every bone had been removed from his body, raising his head to see Maize just inside the door behind the throne. She had matched Leon’s power with her own and was holding him back, but she wouldn’t be able to hold him for long.
“Malcolm,” his father shouted from somewhere indistinct. “Shift.”
Malcolm wanted to shake his head no. It was forbidden, but more than that, there was a spell in place that hindered it. Then he began to understand. The preemptive measures. They had been the king taking down the barriers around the castle. The barriers meant to keep other dragons from simply flying onto castle grounds uninvited and unannounced, the ones set to keep the castle itself insulated from dragons shifting within its walls and wreaking havoc.
His father hadn’t wanted Malcolm to know because knowing made it easy to slip, to shift because the moment appeared to call for it, and his father had wanted it to be a tactical move. Kept for the very last minute of the eleventh hour. But if Malcolm shifted now, there was no window or door big enough to let his dragon shape through.
His gaze found his father, who had fought off two of the guards and was on his knees, placing his hands on the flagstones of the floor.
Malcolm realized what he was doing a moment before the floor suddenly burst apart as water gushed up through the stones. The flow of the river rose quickly, flooding the room. All who were still fighting in it were taken by surprise, some losing their balance, the battles shifting as everyone regained their balance. With the access to water so readily available, the king didn’t hesitate to make use of it.
Malcolm watched his father attack the guards with the same sort of water orbs that Malcolm had used in his fight against Iona, but all Malcolm could see was how this water source was unnecessary. He knew what he could now do.
He drew a soft breath, extending his hands, reaching for the water inside each guard. When he opened his eyes there were shouts of protest, the men all hovering in mid-air. Malcolm smiled, his gaze back on his father, who stared at the testimony to his son’s connection with their heritage.
There had been no moment of transference, there had instead been implicitly trusting the connection and choosing it without pomp and circumstance. Wanting it with his whole hearts.
This was how it was always meant to be, Malcolm thought to himself.
He looked over at the other crowned heads, searching for Ewan, wondering if he felt it too. If they all felt it. But he couldn’t afford to get distracted. Instead, he slammed the guards back down into the water, effectively knocking them out.
Then a hand placed itself against his throat, Leon behind him, his hold too secure for Malcolm to break free as the other hissed, “You were meant to lose control. You were meant to break yourself against the binding spell. Your death was meant to be the beginning!”
“This is the beginning,” Malcolm replied, eyes on Iona where she had gotten to her feet, water up to her knees but alive. So very alive.
Leon made a noise in protest, his hold on Malcolm’s throat tightening as he realized he had the attention of everyone in the room. King Hugh and Queen Blair, King Greer and Queen Maize, King Morton and Prince Ewan. All of them were facing him, fanned out behind Iona.
“I told you that you would die for your treason,” she said.
“This was not meant to happen like this,” Leon retorted, the incredulity lining every word making Malcolm dare move his head, but the hold on his throat immediately tightened. “I waspromised.”
“By whom?” Iona asked.
“Tell us, and we will spare your life,” King Morton stated. “I swear it.”
“I tell you, and I’m as good as dead. You can’t imagine… the power.”
“I think we can,” King Hugh said, his veins lighting up from within with a deep purple glow.
King Greer and Malcolm followed suit, but Malcolm noted Ewan did not. His dragon fire remained a deep green. Had he not connected with the elemental magics? Had his earthmagic failed him? Or had he failed it? Ewan’s gaze met his and Malcolm felt it didn’t matter. They were still united against their common enemy.
There was a pause, when Malcolm’s gaze met Iona’s, and everything stilled.
