“It was a dream. They go. It’s not real.”
Tallis made a frustrated noise. “They’re not real—most times. But they leave clues. Images and real things that follow you to waking. Follow those clues. The boulder, moss, and salt.”
She angled her neck so that her crown pressed against his chest. He continued to smooth her long, passion-tangled hair until she shuddered, then sucked in a fast breath.
“Sacred,” she whispered. “Sacred place. The land and sea. The . . . the Mother.”
“The Mother? You can’t be sure.”
“Tallis, it’s breathtaking. The blend of woman and the Dragon.” She stared up at him, her certainty increasing with each blink. “Yes. She’s here.”
Powered by an instant flush of adrenaline, Tallis jumped clear of the bed and began to suit himself in sturdy clothes and his leather jacket. It would serve as waterproof outerwear. His seaxes were the last. He strapped them around his waist using the cheap scabbards they’d used for trade.
“If they’re here in Scotland, Pashkah will be with them, too,” Kavya said. “I won’t let you face him alone.”
“What?” Tallis spun as he snapped out the word. “You’d rather go? I can kill the bastard and be done with it. He won’t ever threaten you again. What could you do but make yourself vulnerable for him to do his worst? I won’t let that happen.”
“You could just as easily be killed. Make me a widow on the same day we married? I’m going with you to see this through. He’s my brother and I despise what he’s done to my life. I’ll be there to see him fall so I can sleep—finally, Dragon be—finally sleep.” She was out of bed now, dressing with the same efficiency. “And Chandrani. I’m not leaving her to be used and butchered. I will not.”
Tallis was a mass of anger and confusion, especially when he realized that she’d donned the ceremonial garment he’d leveraged her into buying in the Johari Bazar. “Forget it,” he said with a crude curse. “You’ll freeze to death before we get there.”
“This isn’t an idle choice, and it’s not for dancing girls or playing dress up. It’s what Indranan women wear when they call out a sibling. The only time my clan doesn’t wear white while in mourning is when we commit the murder ourselves.”
“That’s why you resisted.”
“Yes. And why I ultimately gave in. I knew I’d need it someday.” She lifted her chin. “I’m going, I’m wearing this, and you’ll stop arguing with me if you want to help. Tallis, please. Show me where that madman has Chandrani. Bring me your family’s Dragon-forged sword. I’m done running, hiding, hoping. I want my people back, and I want a life—a life with me and you, where I’ll never fear anything but the day when the Dragon takes you from me.”
Tallis stood there for a trio of heartbeats, but in that time, he took in an incomprehensible amount of detail. She’d braided her hair, although streamers curled out from the hasty plait. The midriff-baring outfit took on ominous beauty now that he knew its purpose. Her breasts were crisscrossed by the heavier purple fabric, and covered with flowing layers that would catch the wind off the North Sea. The purple and orange skirt was muted by the single nightstand lamp, but the bronze medallions gleamed, catching light at every angle.
“The medallions. What do they say?”
“By the gift of the Dragon, I earn my Self.”
His chest was heavy, burning, too tight for breath. He would slaughter Pashkah without thought—no matter who’d been responsible for his dreams. It didn’t matter at that moment, when Kavya meant to take on her brother. “If you want that sword, you let me wield it.”
“It’s my responsibility!”
“To take his insanity into yourself? No. If you believed in what we shared last night, you’ll let me do this. Killing him will be my pleasure, and doing so won’t drive me mad. Tell me the same could be said if you did the deed.”
Her hands were clasped so hard that her knuckles were uneven and bone white. “Hold the sword. Take his head. But you’re not leaving me here.” She lifted her head and revealed eyes as blatantly vengeful and powerful as he’d ever seen. In that moment, he would have sworn he was standing before a Pendray woman on the verge of letting loose the full strength of her fury.
“My family is coming with us. No way are we walking into some nest of Guardsmen with three swords and your skirt flapping in the wind.” He touched her chin, kissed the bridge of her nose. “You’ll distract me that way, my Kavya.”
But then it was all business. He stormed through the castle, banging on every door. He didn’t know which were occupied, so he made a hell of a racket.
“Wake the dead,” he called, using a centuries-old call to arms. “Gather the ancients. Pull sword from scabbard and bathe blades in red. Trouble has come to one of our own.”
Kavya was his wife now. She had joined his clan by blood and love. If his family cared for him at all—no, if they maintained years of honor that extended beyond their affection or bitterness—they’d close ranks, too. There was little the Pendray did better.
Within fifteen minutes, his groggy siblings had assembled. Dawn’s palest light gave extra contrast to the shadows in that rummage sale of a kitchen, but his family stood ready for war. Modern clothes were layered with armor, from chain mail to modern Kevlar. Rill stepped forward and extended her hand toward Kavya. “For you.”
Kavya took the metal collar. Although he hid his shiver, Tallis was reminded of the collars Cage warriors were forced to wear during their captivity. The damping properties nullified their gifts until the collars were deactivated for bouts. It had been a relief to rival few in his life when he’d seen Nynn and her lover freed of those shackles. No Dragon King should ever be restrained, made human in abilities if not in biology.
“It’s to protect you,” Rill said. “Dragon-forged swords can cleave most metal with a single stroke. Not this. You get one chance. After that, his blade will slice through the collar and your neck.”
“Why have we never heard of these?” Kavya asked. “They would be nearly as prized as the swords.”
“Every clan has secrets.” Smiling, Rill’s voice held a malicious edge of pride. “It’s made from the smelted remains of Dragon-forged swords mixed with lesser metals. We’ve made do with what more powerful armies left behind.”
Tallis could practically see protests forming on Kavya’s tongue. She’d find some stubborn reason to put the collar on someone else, keep a different person from harm. On some level she must realize the importance of her own safety—how vital it was that she not be part of creating a thrice-cursed murderer—but her naive optimism was still so strong.
Tallis made the decision for her. He snatched the collar from her hands and tossed her loose braid out of the way. After a swift kiss on her nape where his teeth marks were bright and sensual, he snapped the lock. Her elegant throat was concealed by the shine of unearthly metal, which bore a resemblance to the pale glow of a Dragon-forged sword.
He kissed her on the temple and gave her bare arms a squeeze. “Consider it a wedding present from my family.”
“And this, big brother,” said Serre, “is our present to you.”
With both hands on the hilt and the tip point toward the floor, Serre held the family’s millennia-old Dragon-forged sword like the tribute of a peasant to his liege.
Tallis took the weapon and tested its weight. Power unlike any in the universe surged through into his skin, his bones, his cells. The Dragon lived in him when he held that amazing weapon—the real Dragon, not a vision co-opted by a nighttime demon. Their Creator would spin in fury right alongside Tallis’s berserker, which was more than ready to protect its woman.