Masques (Sianim #1)(73)

Myr didn't say anything, but he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. A cold wind swept down the mountainside, and Aralorn shivered with impatience as much as chill. Even though she was watching intently, she didn't see the dragon until it was overhead. Silver and green and as graceful as a hummingbird, the great reptile landed and eyed them with interest - or perhaps hunger.

"I need you to get me to the ae'Magi's castle as fast as possible." Aralorn had no more regard for protocol than she had ever had. The dragon tilted its head back in offense.

Myr's grip tightened warningly on Aralorn's shoulder as he said, "Lord Dragon, the only one of us who stands a chance of facing down the ae'Magi is by himself at the castle. We need to get there to help him or the ae'Magi has won. You are our only chance of doing so in time." Aralorn started at the "we," but decided not to protest as it was likely to offend the dragon even more.

The dragon hesitated a minute and then asked, "Speed is important?"

"Very, Lord Dragon," Aralorn said carefully, keeping a respectful tone.

It nodded, saying, "I can travel much faster than flying, but it means that because of your safeguards against magic I cannot take you, King Myr. The shapeshifter half-breed I can take."

Myr looked unhappy, but he nodded his, acceptance. When the dragon lowered its belly to the ground and folded its wings, Myr helped Aralorn up, as she was hampered by the necessity of keeping the sharp claws at the end of Wolf's staff away from the dragon.

The scales on the dragon's back were slick, but otherwise it was no worse than riding a horse bareback. The wings beat steadily until they caught an updraft, then flattened and spread wide, letting the wind pull them south.

Abruptly the dragon lurched forward and Aralorn felt a now-familiar dizziness seize her and clutched the fist-sized scales reflexively. When she was able to focus her eyes again, the castle of the ae'Magi lay just below.

Shouting so that the dragon could hear her past the sound of the wind, Aralorn said, "Land wherever you can find a safe place, Lord. I can find my way in."

In acknowledgement of her words the dragon changed its angle of flight until it was losing altitude fast. Aralorn's ears popped painfully and she tightened her grip on the dragon's scales until they cut into her hand. When the dragon landed, the jolt loosened Aralorn's grip and she landed with a thud next to an impressively armed forepaw.

She rolled to her feet with more speed than grace. She turned to face the dragon and bowed respectfully. "My thanks, sir, and apologies for my clumsiness." Without waiting for a reply, she shifted quickly into a goose and flew as fast as she could to the castle.

The moat didn't smell any better than it had before, and it took her some time to find a pipe that was not plugged with grime and still intact. Once she found one, she balanced precariously on it until she could turn into a mouse. Even in the mouseshape she had trouble negotiating the tricky business of crawling into the pipe from the top, but she managed without falling into the moat.

The corridor that she entered was only dimly lit by wall sconces, and from what she could see it was not one that she'd been in before. She considered staying a mouse, but decided that she would have a better chance of recognizing something familiar if she were in human form, since she'd been in human form while she was following Wolf.

When she took her own shape again, the staff appeared beside her. She hadn't been sure that it would. She wondered if it had changed with her, like the sword and her clothes, or if it were following her on its own. The thought caused her to pick it up gingerly as she started down the hallway.

There were still Uriah posted in the halls. As before, they allowed her to pass without bothering her, though they followed her progress with their eyes. She kept a steady, rapid pace, hoping that she would find a clue to where she was soon enough to be of some help to Wolf.

The castle was eerily silent, so that when she heard sounds coming from inside a room she stopped impulsively and opened the door. Lord Kisrah looked up startled from where he'd been eating breakfast in bed with a giggling young beauty.

"Lord Kisrah, you wouldn't be interested in showing me the way to the dungeons, I suppose?" asked Aralorn. She wondered if she should pull her sword or knife. She didn't have a chance to act. Something flashed at her out of Lord Kisrah's hands. Instinctively, because it was already in her grip, she moved the staff to block it. When the flash hit the dark, oiled wood, the crystals on one end of the staff, which up to this point had been dull and lifeless, flared brightly and Lord Kisrah's magic dissipated without a sound.

Unwilling to let him get another spell off, Aralorn attacked with the staff. Lord Kisrah, unarmed, not to mention unclothed, didn't have much of a chance against Aralorn wielding her favorite type of weapon. Her first blow broke his arm and her second knocked him unconscious on the floor next to the bed.

Aralorn turned to his bedmate with apologies on her lips, but something about the girl made her tighten her grip on the staff instead. Focused intently on the unconscious man, the red-haired woman slithered out of the bedclothes, knocking the bedtable with their food onto the floor.

Remembering the harpy that she and Wolf had met earlier, Aralorn tapped the girl's shoulder gingerly with the clawed end of the staff. She hadn't realized how sharp the claws were until they drew blood. She felt bad about it until the girl turned and Aralorn got a good look at her.