Page 65 of Wings of Frost and Fury
The dripping liquid accomplishes something, though, because within a few minutes, a blue dragon rises from below, past the edge of the cliff. He hovers in midair, his brilliant wings beating lazily to keep him aloft. His brow ridges contract at the sight of me shaking, sweating, leaking magic from my palms.
“Are you all right, enchantress?” he asks.
“No,” I croak out.
“Where is Ashvelon?”
“I don’t know.” I retch again. “It’s so hot, and I can’t stop, I can’t…”
He surveys me for another moment, then opens his jaws. A spray of cool water rushes from his throat, raining over my body.I gasp at the chill of it, and then I sob with relief as the coolness floods my skin, easing the feverish heat. I lift my palms to the spray, and when the water hits my hands, the purple liquid ceases to flow.
He’s a water dragon, and his natural magic counteracted mine.
“Is that better?” he inquires.
“Yes,” I moan, rolling onto my back on the ledge. “Thank you. Would you do that again?”
The dragon sprays my body one more time. I don’t care that my clothing is soaked—it’s such a relief not to be burning alive inside my skin.
“I am Rothkuri,” says the blue dragon.
“Thelise,” I say, even though he already knows. “Apparently you don’t hate me for the spell I performed.”
“Far from it.” He chuckles. “In fact, I deeply appreciate the opportunities that my human form provides.”
“A grateful dragon. Such a delight.” I fight another surge of nausea.
“I did have a question,” he ventures. “But if you aren’t feeling well…”
“Questions, I can handle. Not much else.”
“Some of the other dragons mentioned that they still possess horns, claws, or cloven tongues when they’re in human form. And some of us…” He clears his throat. “Some of us have cocks that are, um… textured in the same way as our dragon cocks. For example, mine is ribbed in dragon form, and it is ribbed in human form as well. And it’s blue in both forms. I’m told that isn’t normal.”
“It’s not.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to summon the energy to care. “That’s a variation I didn’t plan for, didn’t expect. It’s a mistake. Fuck… Once my illness passes, I’ll see what I can do for you to amend that.”
“My woman doesn’t seem to mind,” he replies. “There’s no urgency to the matter. I was merely curious.”
“Speaking of urgency, perhaps you can tell me what’s happening. There seems to be a great deal of activity in the valley today. I would ask Ashvelon, but as I mentioned, I have no idea where the big brute went.”
Rothkuri releases a slow, misty breath. Droplets glisten in the sunlight as he exhales. “The great storm, the Mordvorren, has been sighted. It is headed for Ouroskelle, and will arrive by day’s end, if not sooner. All of us, humans and dragons, are busy gathering food and supplies, since we will likely be trapped in our caves for at least a week. This afternoon, each woman will be choosing a dragon with whom to weather the storm. Since you are already bound to Ashvelon, your place in his cave is secure. You need not fear.”
“Oh, of course not. Nothing to fear,” I mutter. “Just a giant, malevolent storm with a drive for destruction. That’s why my magic isn’t working right. I’ve heard the storm twists and perverts magic, especially the kind that I perform. You dragons should still be able to use your innate abilities without noticing much of a difference, but I’d better not try any magic at all while it’s here.”
Rothkuri blinks slowly in affirmation. “Perhaps Ashvelon is collecting supplies.”
“Perhaps. But if so, why hasn’t he made a few trips back here to drop off what he has gathered?”
“I’m not sure. I should resume making my own preparations. Can I do anything else for you, enchantress?”
“Perhaps one more good soaking.”
He obliges, spraying me down again. “I will try to check on you again later.”
“Thank you, but your own captive comes first,” I tell him.
“She isn’t a captive,” he replies. “She asked to be taken.”
And then he flies away, without another word.
