Page 21 of Wings of Frost and Fury
“I am not afraid. But I don’t believe we should simplygrabher without warning. We need to speak with her, to make sure we have the right woman. She’ll need time to pack her things and to collect supplies for her spellwork, or she won’t be able to perform the magic we require. Perhaps we should offer her something in exchange for her cooperation.”
“You want to bribe her?”
“I want topayher.”
“With what? Treasures from the clan hoard? Kyreagan did not authorize that.”
“I’ll compensate her from my personal hoard,” I reply.
Fortunix chuckles gruffly, almost mockingly. “I say we grab her first, then talk to her once she’s in our power. Humans are treacherous, Ashvelon. Never trust them. Never give them the chance to harm you, or they will.”
Even as he says it, the woman in purple rises, stretching her arms lazily above her head. Then she picks up a cup from the bench.
“She’s moving,” I exclaim. “Did she see us?”
“I don’t think so.” He watches her open the gate and enter the pasture. “It looks as if she’s heading toward the horse. Open ground, no cover. Now would be the perfect time to snatch her.”
“I think we should land over there, by that dune,” I tell him. “That way our shadows won’t give us away when we get closer.”
“You want to approach her on theground?” exclaims Fortunix. “No wonder Kyreagan sent me along for this mission. Your strategic instincts leave something to be desired.”
My jaws tighten. I remind myself, once again, that he is an Elder. I must respect him, no matter how many times he disrespects me.
The woman is crossing the pasture, heading for the larger of the two stables. Her pace is slow, unhurried, and she sways a little as she sips from her cup. I’ve seen movements like that among humans who have partaken of too much wine or rum. Their judgment, balance, and reactions are usually affected by the liquid, much like mine are affected by alethia. I’ve also learned that among humans, it’s frowned upon to drink too much early in the day. By nightfall, it becomes more acceptable.
Clearly the enchantress doesn’t care about drinking in the daylight—if indeed this woman is the enchantress.
She’s nearing the stable.
“This is our chance,” I tell Fortunix. “When she enters that building, we descend. The doors appear large enough for a dragon to enter with wings folded. We’ll block the entrance, trap her in there, and speak to her.”
“As you say.” Fortunix gives his great wings a lazy flap to stay aloft.
The woman opens first one of the stable’s great doors, then the other. Judging by her movements, the doors seem quite heavy. I’m not sure why she’s opening both of them when she could easily enter through one. Perhaps she wants the morning air to flow into the building.
The moment she disappears inside, I dive.
Fortunix follows me, but he drops faster, like a giant gray boulder from the sky. He lands with terrible precision andponderous weight, slamming down onto the back of the lone horse in the pasture.
The animal is crushed instantly. Dead in a moment.
Fortunix steps off the corpse and gobbles it up, tossing his head as he swallows the animal whole. Most dragons wouldn’t be able to accomplish such a feat, but thanks to the horse’s crushed bones and the size of his maw, he manages it.
Dragons often hunt animals smaller than us, but we only kill for sustenance. The destruction of the horse seems unnecessarily cruel, and I hiss savagely at Fortunix when I land near him. I suspect he destroyed the animal because he thought it might whinny and give away our presence, but surely the thud of his landing has already done that.
Swiftly I move into the entrance of the stable, blocking the enchantress’s way out. My head and neck slither forward into the space. When I don’t see the woman anywhere, I move inside.
Where the fuck did she go?
She’s in here. I can smell her. She smells like jasmine and sunlight, like gold and honey. In the back of my primal, predator’s brain, I wonder what the flavor of her skin might be. Judging by her scent, she’s delicious.
Fortunix enters the doorway behind me, his bulk blocking most of the light. Dragons have differing levels of night vision, and mine happens to be excellent, but sometimes it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to a blend of light and shadow within a cave, and it’s the same in a building like this one.
It strikes me that this is my first time entering a building. The war conferences took place outside or within large tents. I’ve never crawled inside a wooden structure like this before. It feels rather confining.
Like a trap.
“Where is the woman?” Fortunix moves farther inside.
