Dragon Witch Series - Dragon Witch Part 39

Tempest had used up her power, drained herself to save Damien and Tristan. This time she could find no spark to fan.

She was empty.

A soft breeze touched her cheek, the newly born oak leaves rustled on the trees around her, a pebble under her slipper caught

her attention. The elements-earth, air, fire, water. She closed her eyes and listened to her heart, to her surroundings.

Tempest knew then where her true power lay. She caught the breeze, drew it into herself. She drew strength from Mother Earth and fed it to the raging wind within her.

The trees whispered, and she let them speak to her in their own language. She felt them unite, heard the message travel to her giant oak. She felt the love, the strength, the power. Her mind and heart knew the moment when the beloved old monarch of all trees gave its all to her, knew then that its power and strength had come from her caul, buried under it so many years ago. She drew upon its sacrifice, its strength, and felt its death as her body was flooded with elemental power.

Sardon felt the power rise from deep within her, felt it struggle to grow as, fearlessly, she faced him. He knew then, knew that he had been too late. Adrian had taken her maidenhead, had given her his golden dragon power, a true witch's power was now hers. She would be of no further use to him. She could not bond with him if she was now bound to the golden hatchling.

Rage boiled through him as he shoved her into the clearing.

He raised his hands and let black dragon power rise from his midnight soul, felt it surge up into his arms, felt it grow until he could no longer contain it. Fire, dark as deepest night, hot as the blazing sun, shot from his fingertips.

Tempest lifted her hands, palms facing him, as he threw the bolts. He saw a shield surround her, a pale blue shield of glittering energy. His magic hit the shield and fell harmlessly to the ground before her.

Sardon threw darkness at her, a deep, smothering blackness.

But there was a glow at the center of the calignosity, a soft blue glow. It grew, expanded, defeated the murky gloom and sent its brilliant tentacles toward him. He tried to escape. He tried to send greater destruction at her but failed as the blue glow buffeted him and finally surrounded him.

Coldness enveloped him, crept under his skin, continued its path toward his evil heart. Heat slowly left his body as his legs grew numb. His knees buckled, and he staggered but did

not fall. He called on his great strength, trying to escape. But the icy chill pursued him like an avenging angel.

Sardon howled with frustration as he called upon the powers of his glowing opal ring, trying to destroy the witch who dared to defy him. But his ring alone could not bring him the magical power he needed.

He knew then that he must use more mundane powers to accomplish his task. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out a black crystal dagger and threw it.

Tempest's magic could not deflect the sharp blade of the dagger. Its earth magic combined with the ring's wild magic easily penetrated her shield. She felt it sink deep into her chest, felt it pierce her heart, felt her life-force ebb as she sagged slowly to the ground.

She heard Adrian scream but could not answer as oblivion captured her spirit. Her eyes closed as she moved slowly toward the softly glowing blue light. There was no pain, only sweet la.s.situde as she neared the light. She heard voices. Soft, musical voices floated to her on a cloud of love. A man. A woman. Her hands reached out as her heart stopped beating....

"She has died." The woman's voice trembled with anguish.

"This is wrong. We must help her."

"But we can do nothing, my dear." The man's words were soft, his deep voice a rumble of despair.

"There is a way," said the woman. "We can intervene. We can make her live again."

"What can we do? She is human. We cannot interfere in the deaths of humans. We can change nothing."

"We saved Adrian. We changed him to human. We have the knowledge, the magic."

"Adrian is Dragonkind. That is our domain. She is human.

K'ronos will destroy us if we are so bold."

"Nay," she argued, her mouth set stubbornly. "We can change her to dragon."

"Only K'ronos can create a dragon, dearest. Only He is the true Great Wyrm because He is the dragon of time,"

the man explained patiently. "I may not remember much, but

this I know to be true; we must not anger K'ronos."

"Do not forget, my darling, Adrian may be your grandson." She took his large hand in hers and looked deeply into his golden eyes. "If she is allowed to die, he will have no mate. You know dragons mate for life. Your line will end with him."

"Will you help?" he asked, knowing the truth of her words.

"You are my mate. That I do remember. If Adrian is my grandchild, then he is yours as well."

"We will help them together."

FORTY-TWO.

Lysira and Damien were still held immobile with Sardon's evil magic, but Adrian was no longer powerless. Sardon's magic had faded, but Adrian was too late to stop the crystal blade as he watched it sink deeply into Tempest's heart. He tried to reach her, but Sardon was closer.

Sardon yanked the dagger from her lifeless body. He aimed for Adrian's chest, but the lethal weapon missed its intended destination and buried itself in Adrian's shoulder instead. Blood poured from the wound as he yanked the dagger out and flung it. But Sardon deftly stepped aside and it flew harmlessly to land in the bushes growing by the steps.

Adrian knelt beside Tempest, ignoring Sardon.

"Tempest?" he whispered, afraid to touch her, afraid not to touch her. "Please my love, answer me."

But there was no answer. She lay still as death. He touched her face, ran his fingers down her cheek. Her body was already turning cold. Death had claimed his mate. He had not stopped it, he had not protected her as he had promised. He raised his head to the heavens and wailed his anguish as the tears coursed down his cheeks. He cried out her name, but there was no answer.

He cradled her lifeless body in his arms and rocked, miserable and lost. He sobbed helplessly, unable to do anything else, so great was his pain. He had lost his mate; his soul shriveled and cried out in agony. His blood mingled with hers as their wounds touched. Pain left his shoulder as he felt his wound began to heal. Even in death Tempest was a true healer.

He looked around the clearing, searching for help, for answers. His eyes met Lysira's, but he could see only his own

despair mirrored there. His mother could not help him this time, for she and Damien were still held fast by Sardon's ensorcelment. He bent over Tempest's body, holding her, rocking her, sobbing out his grief.

"She is dead, hatchling," the sorcerer said sardonically.

"You could not protect her. You are too weak. You cannot protect yourself or your family. I have wounded your pitiful Devil Knight, and I will destroy your helpless mother. I shall be the Great Wyrm and you will kneel to me before I spill your life's blood upon the ground." He took a step forward, lifted his sandaled foot and stepped on Tempest's lifeless hand. He ground it into the dirt, then smirked.

"See," he mocked, "you cannot protect her even in death."

"Nay," Adrian growled as he shoved Sardon away and laid Tempest gently on the ground, folding her hands across her bosom. "You will never touch her again. You will die, Sardon di Mercia. I will kill you or die trying. You will never live to be what you most desire. You will never be the Great Wyrm.

T'bor is the Great Wyrm, and he still lives!"

"T'bor is dead," Sardon said, but a look of confusion began to grow deep within his onyx eyes. "And so is she!" He knocked Adrian to the ground with one sweep of his powerful arm, then kicked Tempest, making her hands fall to lie palms up as if in supplication to his great strength and power. "See? Even your mate bows to me in death." He laughed then, a wicked, gleeful laugh.

"Nay!" Adrian crawled to Tempest, replaced her hands across her chest and kissed her cold lips.

"I love you, my darling wife," he whispered. "I will join you soon." He rose and faced his nemesis. "Sardon di Mercia,"

he grated, "prepare to die."

"Puny hatchling masquerading as a man," Sardon said with a foul grin, "'Twill be a pleasure to kill you as I killed yon b.i.t.c.h." He twisted the glowing ring on his finger and began to change. His skin darkened, became a deep, black obsidian.

Scales formed on his body as he grew larger. His face became saturnine, demonic, as his teeth began to lengthen. Sharp, pointed horns emerged from his head, and he bellowed a

challenge as he launched himself into the sky.

Adrian heard a gentle voice in his mind. You also can change, my love. Let me help you.

"Tempest?" Adrian glanced to where she lay. Her eyes were open, and she was looking at him.

Look into my eyes, her lips did not move, the words were in his head. Mindspeak! Only dragons used mindspeak! But she was mortal, human!

As our souls were joined, as our hearts met and became one, so did our blood mingle, she spoke silently to his heart.

You are dragon. Become what you are, my love. Picture. Smell.

Feel. Feel the wind under your wings as you soar the skies, feel your might, feel your power. Smell your victory.

Adrian closed his eyes as he listened to her words. He felt her power as their minds joined, became one, just as their hearts and bodies had joined on their wedding night.

He felt his body begin to change, to grow. His muscles elongated to fit his powerful legs. His arms grew stronger, his body larger, turning golden as scales formed. Long, leathery wings sprouted from his ma.s.sive shoulders. He curled his fingers as huge, curved talons began to emerge from their tips.

Small sharp horns of white bone began to sprout from his head.

His teeth became sharply pointed, and he smiled a dreadful dragon's smile as he reared his huge, golden head to answer S'rdonne's challenge.

I am with you A'dryan. He cannot defeat us.

Her whispered words gave strength to his body and spirit as he rose to meet his archenemy.

They met, soared higher and higher, then clashed again as they whirled in their dance of death. Golden dragon struck black dragon high in the sky over the clearing, looking like tiny black dots to the watchers far below. Hour after hour, dragon scales, gold and black, rained down upon the earth. Dragon screams reverberated across the land, screams of rage and screams of pain. Still they fought, neither gaining an advantage as the day wore on.

A'dryan was weary. It seemed as though he had been battling S'rdonne all his life. He needed to make an end to this

battle, here and now. But he had tried everything he knew, and still S'rdonne could not be vanquished. As he circled high over S'rdonne, the midday sun flashing brightly on his golden scales, he saw an opening.

The black's wing was torn from shoulder almost to tip. If he could just lengthen that tear, he would disable him. One more slash with his talon should do it. He dove for the black, head extended, teeth and talons ready.

S'rdonne could not allow A'dryan to win this battle.

He would exact his revenge upon L'sira and Damien for their rejection so many years ago. He would destroy their son, then he would destroy them. He could already taste victory, and it was sweet.

He, S'rdonne, would be The Great Wyrm. All dragons would bow to him. They would worship him as the most powerful of all dragons. The deaths of his mother and father would be avenged. All blacks would be avenged.

But his thoughts of revenge and greatness distracted him, and he did not see A'dryan until it was too late. He felt the pain as the gold's talons tore at his wing, severing the tip from his body. He howled his rage as he plummeted toward Earth.

A'dryan dove at S'rdonne for the final killing blow. Too late, he realized that he had flown too close as the black slashed at him, opening a huge gash in his vulnerable underbelly.

Weakness. .h.i.t hard as he too plummeted earthward.

Die, hatchling, S'rdonne screamed. You are nothing without the witch. I destroyed her. I have won!

Did you destroy me, S'rdonne?

Female dragon mindspeak? Tempest? Nay! It could not be! She was dead. He had killed her, drove his crystal dagger deep into her witch's heart. S'rdonne watched A'dryan pull out of his dive, watched him soar again, watched him come closer and closer, watched dragon fire erupt from his open maw. He tried to maneuver out of the line of that fire, tried to soar once again toward the heavens, but his injured wing made him clumsy, and he felt the flames. .h.i.t him, felt cold fire burn into his thick hide, felt pain-profound, mortal pain-deep in his gut. He shrieked but could not evade it. His wing was too

severely injured. He could no longer control his flight. He could not get away from the fire, the pain, his death.

You cannot escape us. A'dryan's mindspeak this time.

We are one now, h.e.l.lsp.a.w.n. Soft, female mindspeak.

Tempest? His mind screamed in rage and confusion.

T'mpest now, Her words tore into his mind with chilling force. A'dryan's forever mate. Granddaughter to T'bor and A'ngeline.

S'rdonne looked down and wailed in rage and terror at what he saw. Tempest was standing in the center of the clearing.

She was staring up at him, her hands raised, fingers pointed at him. Lightning streaked from them, aimed at his heart.

"Nay!" he screamed, trying to evade the bolts, trying to avoid the inevitable, wanting, needing to avoid the death fast approaching. But he could not control his flight. Without his wingtip he could not move fast enough.

He heard A'dryan howl, then the hiss of fire again released.