Disappointment squeezed her; she didn’t want their time alone to end so soon. “Because of a bird?”
“Because of a very big bird. And I doubt it’s just one.”
He pulled her toward the gazebo.
“Wait, one more thing.” She tilted her head. “How long is an Underworld season?”
He raised his eyebrows at the random new subject. “It’s similar to an Earth year. We have a long warm season and an equally long cold season.”
“Oh. And how many seasons old are you?”
Amusement touched his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“I was talking with Coby and Mahala and it came up.”
“And did they tell you that daemons don’t record or celebrate birthdays?”
“Well … yes, but …” She looked into those gray eyes that could see right down to her soul and realized it didn’t matter. Mahala was right. Age was a number that only mattered to humans. She shook her head. “Never mind.”
He smiled briefly and slid his arm around her waist, drawing her close. Before he could speak, another hunting cry pierced her eardrums.
“Um,” she said, “maybe we should go now.”
They hurried up the steps and into the gazebo. The cold breeze sliced over her wet skin as they rushed out the other side and onto the winding stairs going down the slope.
“The blanket!” She stopped, detaching from his arm. “We forgot it. I’ll grab it.”
His eyes flashed toward the sky and his wings twitched with tension. “Hurry.”
She trotted back up to the gazebo, annoyed by the steam obscuring her path. Darting across the gazebo floor, she yanked the blanket off the railing; they didn’t have enough supplies that they could abandon perfectly good blankets for no reason. As she swung the blanket around herself like a towel and turned to leave, a small flash of motion caught her eye. She looked back at the pool with the vista of mountains beyond it. Something dark was floating atop the water. Glancing at the empty sky, she hopped down two steps into knee-deep water for a closer look.
It was a black feather. A huge black feather as long as her arm and twice as thick. Holy crap, Ash hadn’t been kidding about big birds. Her skin prickled with fear and she spun around, intending to duck back into the shelter of the gazebo.
In a rush of massive wings, something grabbed her and wrenched her into the air.
The world spun and the steam of the springs swirled crazily as the bird launched back into the sky, Piper trapped in its grasp. The blanket around her had tangled up the deadly, curved talons, saving her from what might have been instant death. Her eyes flashed over the humungous raptor with its hooked beak the size of her head, massive feathered wings, and a long snake-like tail with feathers fanning out on each side.
The wind whipped at her. The mountainside was already a deadly fall away. Holy shit.
“Ash!” she screamed.
The raptor shrieked, seemingly irritated to realize she was still alive and being noisy. Its talons clenched around her, digging into her body through the blanket.
“Ow!” she yelled, frantically wiggling her arm out of the blanket straightjacket. She raised her freed hand, ready to cast a nice blast of magic into the bird’s face. Looking around, she strained to spot Ash.
A whistle cut through the air. Halfway between her and the rocky slope, Ash flew after her, his wings beating hard to catch up to the bird. Close enough.
She summoned her magic, the sucking sensation in her head warning her that she was running low on power. Ignoring it, she drew her hand back and hurled the swirling blue and purple fire into the bird’s beak.
It shrieked in pain—but didn’t drop her.
“Goddamn it, bird!” she snarled. She didn’t have much magic to work with here! Fear pounded in her head. She lifted her hand and pictured a band of interwoven blue and purple light—a spell she’d first used while shaded and had since practiced with limited success. Desperate measures.
She slashed her hand through the air and the ribbon of magic snapped out in a perfect arc, slicing across the bird’s legs and underbelly. Hot blood sprayed in her face. The raptor’s cry of agony nearly burst her eardrums, and then she was falling.
The blanket fluttered away while she plummeted at top speed. Enraged raptor cries erupted all around them, filling the sky with noise.
A whoosh of wings, and hands snatched her from her free fall. She clamped her arms around Ash’s neck, looking over his shoulder. In a flurry of black feathers, the rest of the raptor flock swept over the nearest mountain and dove with murderous intent for her and Ash.
“They’re coming!” she cried.
He folded his wings. They plunged downward, gaining speed by the second. His wings opened again and they banked sharp and fast, zooming past a rocky outcrop and out over the valley beyond—away from the hot springs. Confusion cut through her fear as the furious flock sped after him, the thunder of their wings as loud as a storm. Then she realized he was leading them away from the others. She imagined that raging mass of beaks and talons descending on the spring with the helpless women and children and fully agreed with his decision.
Thankfully, the birds followed them away from the springs, focused on revenge.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked urgently, raising her voice over the wind.
“Nope,” he replied tersely, wings beating rapidly.
She looked back over his shoulder. “Um. They’re gaining on us.”
The giant birds were indeed gaining on them—fast. The gap was closing at an alarming rate. Ash was flying hard, but they were in open sky where the raptors’ greater wingspan was to their advantage. The birds rose higher, gaining altitude as they closed the distance.
“Here they come!” she yelled in warning.
The nearest raptor, its tail trailing behind it like a feathered banner, let out a furious shriek and dove for Ash’s back. His arms clamped tight around her and he banked, shooting off to the side as the bird plunged past them. The rest of the flock attacked. He spun through the air, twisting and whirling to avoid the flashing talons and snapping beaks. Piper couldn’t so much as breathe as they barrel-rolled through the air a thousand feet above the ground, black feathers and glaring red raptor eyes everywhere.
Ash dodged another bird and spun to the left, and then his luck ran out. Two birds slammed into them simultaneously. The force of the collision tore her out of Ash’s grip. She fell, spinning out of control.
Panic ripped through her, followed by a wave of calm as her thoughts cleared. Tingles rushed over her as she took on her daemon form, strength filling her body.
Talons grabbed her arm, the tips piercing her flesh. Her fall stopped abruptly, distant pain tearing through her as she swung by one arm from the bird’s grip. Her eyes flashed across the bird to the sky above. Ash, a sword in each hand and wings beating the air, slashed at a raptor, ripping it open from gizzard to tail. Then the flock closed in and he vanished in the swarm of black feathers.
Fury rose through her—a vicious possessiveness. How dare those birds attack him. He was hers.
Reaching up, she grabbed the bird’s legs and ripped her claws through its skin. It screamed and released her—but she didn’t release it. Clinging to its leg, she swung herself up and grabbed a handful of feathers. With a mighty heave, she pulled herself onto its back.
The bird freaked out. Shrieking in terror and writhing madly, it spun and ducked and twisted in the air to dislodge her. She clung onto it, clawed fingers and toes dug into its feathers.
A deep bellow cut through the clamor of raptor cries. She twisted around to see Zwi in full dragon form zooming toward them as fast as her wings could carry her.
“Zwi!” Piper yelled.
The dragon spotted her and altered her trajectory, rushing toward her and her raptor. As soon as the dragon was near enough, she leaped from the bird’s back and flicked a hand out behind her. A slicing ribbon of magic cut through the bird as Piper landed on Zwi’s back.
/> Zwi arched around on spread wings toward the cluster of flapping wings, where Ash was fighting off the flock. Zwi roared as she charged straight into them, teeth flashing and front talons ripping at black feathers indiscriminately. Piper flung out her hand again, a band of magic severing the two nearest feathered wings.
Where was Ash? She couldn’t see him. She needed to see him.
Zwi suddenly disengaged, back-winging away from the flock. Then she tucked her wings and dove away from the raptors, leaving Ash somewhere in their midst.
Light glowed from within the center of the flock. With a silent detonation, black power exploded outward, blasting through the raptors. Feathers flew in every direction. The remains of the birds rained down toward the distant ground.
Zwi leveled out, gliding on outspread wings. His own wings beating with clear fatigue, Ash descended toward them and dropped onto Zwi’s back behind Piper. The dragon immediately banked toward the mountain slope. With a clatter of talons, she landed on an outcrop of rock and folded her wings.
Ash slid off the dragon and staggered with exhaustion. Piper leaped down too and grabbed his arm. She shoved him to the ground, surprising a gasp out of him.
“Piper …” he began hoarsely, struggling to catch his breath. He moved to stand but she roughly pushed him down again. Methodically, she examined his body for injuries. His bare arms and chest bore shallow scratches from raptor talons, but none were deep. She checked his legs, his wings, even his tail for damage.
“I’m fine, Piper,” he said, a note of caution in his voice. “You can relax now.”
She sat on her heels in front of him, eyes narrowed. “Did you kill them all?”
“I think so.” He hesitated. “Why?”
“They attacked you.” She grabbed his chin, tilting his face to examine a scratch down his cheek. “They hurt you,” she growled. “They aren’t allowed to hurt you. You’re mine.”
His head turned back to her. In an instant, his eyes went from stormy gray to pitch black. “What did you say?”
“You’re mine.” The words came out layered with challenge, daring him to deny it, her shaded calm somehow mixing with anger and possessive fury. Then she grabbed his head, fingers hooked in his horns, and kissed him. Her kiss was harsh, fierce, demanding. Aggressive.
He growled against her mouth, kissing her back just as ferociously.
All of the sudden, her legs gave out and she flopped down on him. Tingles rushed over her as she slipped unintentionally back into her human form. Exhaustion followed in a crushing wave, sweeping away her possessiveness.
“Owww,” she groaned.
She looked at her arm, surprised to see the deep gashes above her elbow and streaks of blood across her skin. Ash propped her up as her limbs trembled and fatigue gripped her entire body.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I—I think I overdid it a little,” she replied breathlessly. Her head spun. “Maybe a lot.”
He gazed down at her with dark eyes, analyzing her as if she were a strange specimen in a zoo.
“What?” she grumbled, feeling a blush coming on. “I get a little weird when I shade, okay?”
His lips curved and he leaned down, brushing his mouth over hers. “No complaints here. We should get back before they come looking for us.”
Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her to her feet. She leaned on him hard, her shaking legs barely supporting her weight. Spending all night in her daemon glamour had sucked her magic almost dry. Returning to her daemon glamour and using even more magic to fight the raptors had depleted her reserves and exhausted her body. The next few days while she recovered were going to suck.
As Ash led her over to Zwi, she glanced around at the empty sky. “Speaking of the others, why didn’t anyone come to help? I don’t see how they could have missed the commotion.”
“I had Zwi make sure Raum got the others to safety first.” He glanced in the direction where he’d blasted the flock to smithereens. “There were quite a few more than I initially realized, and it’s better that the others were protected. Rocs are aggressive, stubborn, and stupid. Not a good combination.”
He lifted her onto Zwi’s back, then let out a long sigh as he stretched his wings, probably steeling himself for the flight back. Piper slumped on the dragon’s back, weaving her weak fingers into Zwi’s mane and hoping she didn’t fall off.
As Ash stepped to the edge of the rocky outcropping and leaped into the air, Piper hunched lower on Zwi’s back. The dragon sprang off the edge, spreading her wings to glide after Ash. Pressing her lips together, Piper stared at the draconian.
While she’d been shaded, the thought of anyone hurting him had filled her with rage. The quiet, fierce love she felt for him as a human had transformed into aggressive, furious possessiveness. She’d seen the same daemon reaction before when Lilith had dosed Ash and Lyre with her aphrodesia; they’d both reacted with similar possessive aggression. She was guessing her reaction was pretty typical for a daemon, and it didn’t seem to bother Ash—aside from bringing out his aggressive side as well. She was a little embarrassed about the way she’d reacted, but something else was nagging at her, chewing a little hole of anxiety in her belly.
If her reaction to Ash while shaded was to protect him, why had she tried to kill him while shaded at the Gaian facility? Had it been the Sahar’s poisonous hatred overriding her daemon instincts … or had something else been driving her to kill him?
She clenched her teeth. She wished she could remember what had happened in that fight—but if she remembered the fight, then she would also remember all the people she’d killed, and she’d probably never sleep again.
Chapter Five
Sleep didn’t do as much to restore her strength as she would have liked. Even after waking, she was forced to stay in her weak human form. When they set out again, the strange, gloomy twilight had settled over the land. Periskios hovered in the deep blue sky, half lit by the setting suns, the other half in darkness. When she’d first seen the planet, she’d thought it moved across the sky, but she’d soon learned it was the suns, stars, and moons that moved. Periskios never changed position, always hovering just above the mountains that formed the southern horizon.
They flew low in the valleys to stay hidden as twilight gradually—very gradually—deepened into darkness. The forests of tall, spindly, inedible trees they travelled over seemed endless, coating the slopes of the mountains, and when they landed in a sheltered hollow of the forest, she had to wonder if Raum was just saying that the terrain would soon improve merely to keep their spirits up. She hadn’t seen any signs of more hospitable land.
The suns were long gone from the sky when they went to bed, but it wasn’t dark. Though sunlight no longer touched the landscape, Periskios received the full light of the unseen suns. The planet glowed in the sky, its surface covered with swirling white and gold clouds, slowly waxing like the giant moon it so resembled. When the long night reached its halfway point, Periskios would act like a full moon, casting silvery light across the mountains.
As she lay wrapped in a blanket in a tiny tent with Seiya sleeping on one side and Raisa on the other, sleep tugged at her eyelids but she couldn’t manage to drift off. Ash was out scouting, forfeiting his rest yet again. A quarter cycle of travel more, Raum had promised as they ate another meal of bland soup, then they could set up a more permanent camp.
Her thoughts returned to the carved gazebo and pool. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Ash she was pretty certain it had seen the touch of draconian hands. The delay was mainly because telling him would involve explaining how she was so certain it was draconian architecture.
She’d never spoken to anyone about her shared dreams with Natania. The soul that lived in the Sahar was dangerous and insane, but she’d helped Piper more than once. As uncomfortable as the dreams were, she wished she could talk to Natania again and ask about the springs; if Natania had visited them in her past life, she could potentially offer insight
s into the area. Or maybe she would just taunt Piper and be supremely unhelpful. Their conversations could go either way.
She also wouldn’t mind the opportunity to ask Natania about what had happened in the Gaian facility. Had Piper gone insane because of shading? Or had her insanity come from the Sahar—as Ash and Lyre believed? Or had she gone insane … because she was actually insane? What if she’d become unstable after all the terrible things she’d experienced in the past months and another berserker episode was coming? Her mother had been crazy; maybe it ran in the family.
But Natania was even crazier, not to mention manipulative, and if it had been the Sahar’s overwhelming rage that had driven Piper to murder people, Natania wasn’t likely to be forthcoming about it.
She sighed in the darkness of the tent and smoothed her hair away from her face. A quarter cycle—about eighteen hours—of travel. Her body ached with exhaustion and her arm throbbed where the roc’s talons had cut her. Ivria had carefully healed the injury, but pain still lingered deep in the muscle and would take time to fade entirely. She would have loved another soak in those hot springs. She smiled a little to herself, picturing the smooth pool by the gazebo with its breathtaking vista of mountains.
In her mind’s eye, she saw again the strangely shaped peak in the distance at the farthest end of the valley. A sense of vague recognition trickled through her. Maybe because she had just been thinking about Natania and their shared dreams, she recalled the vision Natania had shown her of a colossal dragon carved into a summit in the center of the draconian community. That strangely shaped peak at the end of the valley … could it have been the carved dragon from a different angle? No. No way had that statue survived a war and five centuries of abandonment in the harsh mountain elements.
She squeezed her eyes shut to banish the idea. But she ended up lying awake for far too long, wondering if the ancient settlement had really been that close—or if it was just the wishful thinking of a homesick haemon who didn’t belong in this world.