Standing in a cavern of deep brown rock, Layala and her companions shivered in the bitter temperatures of the far north. Despite the cold outside the cave, water trickled down the walls and from the top of the stalagmite hanging in large cone shapes above them. Either the cave was enchanted or the walls were naturally warmer, but it did nothing to keep the chill from Layala’s body. Her nose ached from exposure, and they hadn’t been there long. All of them wore coats and gloves but there had been no respite, no escape from the winter. By fortune alone the portal that brought them there was within this cavern. The storm outside the wide opening was so powerful, when she attempted to venture out, the snow and whipping winds ripped at her clothes and nearly drove her to her knees.
“This storm has to let up soon,” Piper said with chattering teeth.
There was nothing close by and they all feared losing their way in the storm. The snow was but a wall of white, making it impossible to see a distance barely even feet ahead. “Ask the portal to take us back,” Tif groaned. “I’m too cold. My toes will fall off, if they haven’t already.”
“We can’t, not without answers,” Layala said.
Fennan rubbed his hands together. “It might always be like this. We’ve heard the stories of the tearing winds of the Sederac Mountains. We have to push through it.”
Layala stood and stared out at the blinding white as it cascaded sideways across the opening with a howl that chilled her to the bone. She scooped up her bag and threw it on her back. Then she stepped out into the storm at the cliff’s edge. She tucked her hair into the hood of her coat. “I’m going. And I’m not coming back without finding that dragon.” She summoned the vines that wrapped around her waist to carry her down the cliff. Pale ones were the least of her worries in this place.
Piper started forward. “Take us with you. If you don’t make it back, we’ll die in this cave. The portal will not open for us.”
Layala nodded. And her vines wrapped around her companions, and carried them to the hard-packed snow fifty feet below. Tifapine huddled in the backpack, poking her head out occasionally. They walked until Layala couldn’t feel her feet, pushing through the cold that burned her exposed skin. She trailed vines behind them so they could find their way back and hoped their lifeline wouldn’t be buried in snow entirely.
The powdery snow crunched under her boots for what felt like hours. Her legs weakened when the sun dipped behind heavy clouds and the temperature dropped. Her whole body shook. Her hands ached so she tucked them under her armpits. Her lungs and throat burned, as great plumes of mist appeared as she exhaled. “We have to stop,” she said and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering.
“Keep going!” Fennan grabbed her arm and tugged her onward. “If we stop, we’ll die.”
Piper wrapped her arm around Layala’s. “Maybe if we huddle together it will help.” Side by side they trudged. Layala kept her eyes down. Every time she looked up, bits of snow and ice stung her eyes.
“I think I see something.” Tifapine pointed over Layala’s shoulder. “There’s something dark ahead.”
“It might be a house,” Piper said excitedly. “It’s a square outline.”
It did look like a house. Shelter at the very least. That gave her motivation to move faster, fighting against the driving wind. When they were close enough, they came upon a square stone cottage. The door was half buried in snow, but smoke rose out of the chimney. “Even if it’s not her, it will be warm,” Layala yelled. She was the first to get there and pounded her fist on the door. “Please let us in!” Even though she should be nervous if this was the home of the dragon shifter who worked with the Black Mage, all she could think about was a fire that had to be waiting inside.
The door slowly pulled inward, but no one stood in the opening. Looking back at the others, Piper nodded, and they stepped inside. They trailed in snow covering the round purple rug. The room had a warm orange glow from the roaring fireplace set in large cream-colored stone. A wide brown armchair sat before it with a small table beside it. A steaming cup of tea waited on it and beside it a saucer of cookies. The tea would be welcome right about now.
Layala looked to the far wall where a bed with straw poking out from under heavy sheepskin blankets was set. She swung her gaze to the other side that hosted a shelf full of books with pages hanging out of the deeply used leather. But most peculiar was a station with cauldrons and vials of various sizes on a table. Animal skulls hung with string from the ceiling, along with bunches of dried herbs and flowers. There was a vase of dark red liquid that the twist of Layala’s gut told her was blood. Unlit candles and feathers from various birds scattered over the table.
“Hello?” Layala finally called. “Is anyone here?”
Fennan had his dagger in hand stepping in front of Layala. “Stay behind me. I don’t like this place.”
“You came here and now you insult me by saying you don’t like my home? Perhaps you’d prefer the storm,” said a light melodic voice.
Layala set her jaw and stepped around Fennan, despite Tif’s quiet protests. The shifter had to be sitting in the chair. There was nowhere else to hide. Keeping her distance, she moved to the side putting the shifter into view. Tapping her long black talons against the armrests, she smiled. She was young and beautiful. With wavy golden hair and matching eyes of amber. Her deep bronze skin had a shimmer to it much like dragon scales would. “Hello, Layala. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Gulping, Layala resisted the urge to pull out a weapon. “Then you know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” she mused, looking Layala over from head to toe. “I expected your High King to be with you. Where is he?”
“Not here.”
The sorceress chuckled. “You thought you’d break a mate spell with him not present? How very naive of you.”
“Just tell me how and I’ll go to him. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“It isn’t wise to go around making promises like that. I could ask for your soul or your life, or the life of your little friend in your bag.”
“No. Not lives and not souls.”
The cackle that echoed through the room made Layala’s warming skin tingle. “I should tell you that you already have the key to what you seek.”
Gritting her teeth, Layala’s cheeks flared hot. She didn’t come here for riddles. “I don’t know what that means. I need a way to break a mate bond created by the Black Mage.”
“He was my lover, you know.” Her three-inch talons at the end of her fingers tapped steadily. “I did love him once, but you know what they say, about a woman who’s been scorned.”
“He cheated on you? Left you?” Layala asked. Not that she cared in the slightest but if she was going to get an answer it seemed conversation might be what the woman wanted.
“Oh dear, he would never have dared bed another. But you know what he did care about more than me?” she paused. “His power. And you know what I cared about more than him? Mine.”
Layala took an involuntary step back. This dragon craved power as much as the Black Mage. “What do you want for the answer? I know you were able to get free of him. They said you used to have a rune on your forehead. You don’t now.” She glanced at Piper and Fennan who stood starkly still a few feet away.
“You’re so young, mage. You haven’t even tapped into your power, but I can feel it.” She slowly bobbed her head. “It’s like a thick heavy cloud, wanting to snuff me out. It knows a threat when it encounters one. But even you can’t break that mate bond on your own.”
“Then what?” Layala demanded. Her pulse picked up; the talking in circles made her anxious. “Another spell?”
“You’ll owe me a favor in the future. And you can’t deny me when I come to collect. If you attempt to deny me, you’ll be cursed.”
“What kind of favor?” And what kind of curse?
“The nature of the favor will be disclosed at the time. It won’t cost you a life or a soul.”
Fennan and Piper both shook their heads. Layala clenched her fists. She didn’t have a choice. “I agree.”
“The mate bond can be broken by an object infused with dying-sacrifice. That kind of object can undo any magic.” Layala reached up and touched her willow necklace. Varlett nodded. “I was there the day your mother forfeited her life to see you free. I watched from the shadows as she tore it from her neck. That necklace represents her love. With the right incantation it could break your mate bond.”
“What is the incantation?”
Varlett stood and held out her hand. Tentatively, Layala took it, and the sorceress’s talon pierced the inside of Layala’s wrist, drawing a bead of blood. The sorceress ran her fingertip over the blood then pressed her bloody finger against her tongue. She closed her eyes as if reveling in the taste of it. Layala cringed and took a step back.
“You fear that Thane will die during the consummation of the mate spell.” She kept her eyes closed.
Wondering how she could know that, Layala said, “Yes because of—”
“Your previous lover,” Varlett cut in, opening her big golden eyes. “There is a clause in the mate spell—loyalty. I know this because I helped him create the spell. When loyalty is broken there is a consequence. Your lover Novak died because he was not your mate. It wasn’t your magic that killed him. So now you have a choice. Do you wish to break the mate bond, or will you go to your mate and become one?”
Layala felt both relieved and nauseous. The whole time it wasn’t even her? She spent years hating herself, and it was the Black Mage’s fault? It was that horrible evil mage who wasn’t even alive anymore that killed Novak, and the reason she feared being with Thane. Layala’s hand was still wrapped around the cold metal of the willow tree. Maker, she bargained for an answer and owed this woman an unknown favor, and consummating the bond wouldn’t even hurt Thane, let alone kill him.
She thought of Thane’s smiling face. No matter how she treated him, he still chose her. He laughed when she called him names. He never gave up on her. He loved her despite everything. “I choose Thane.”
Varlett smiled. “Go to your mate. I think he might be in trouble. I do look forward to seeing you again, Layala.”
“In trouble?” A pain so sharp it took her breath away, hit Layala in the chest. And with it a fiery rage. She whipped around to face Piper and Fennan. “Something is wrong.” She knew exactly where it had come from.
“What?” Piper asked.
“Something is wrong with Thane. He’s—hurt and, very,” his wrath was like a burning sun, screaming at her through their bond. “Very angry.” She clutched her chest and then voices flew around what sounded like within the cottage, but she knew it was in her mind. People laughing and screaming insults.
“What is happening?” Fennan moved closer, eyes wide.
She pushed her hands against the sides of her head. “It’s too chaotic. I don’t know.” Flashes of a cage and elves standing on the other side of the bars zipped through her mind’s eye. She wanted to scream herself. His rage was so palpable. Layala took deep, slow breaths trying to calm herself, focusing on Thane. There had been absolutely nothing from him since she left but a quiet sadness that she couldn’t distinguish from her own feelings. Maybe she could send him tranquility as he’d done to her. It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright. I’m coming, she chanted taking soothing breaths, picturing Thane feeling their connection like a tunnel that only needed opening. That fire in him died down enough that she heard clearly as if he stood beside her, “Layala. I am sorry.”
“Don’t give up. I haven’t given up on you,” she whispered, hoping he could hear her.
The dragon lady watched her curiously with a coy smile as if she enjoyed his suffering.
Layala didn’t say another word as she threw the door open. The snowstorm had stopped. It was as clear as a summer day with the sun shining in a perfectly blue sky. Layala ran. She knew Piper and Fennan followed her by their footfalls crunching over the packed snow. There was nothing left to do now but go to Thane. To save him from whatever or whoever hurt him, and finally be together before they turned into pale ones.
They reached the portal quickly without the forces of nature against them. Her magical vines lifted them up and she slammed her hand against the stone. “Take me directly to Thane. Take me to him right now! I know you can.”
The portal warmed and glowed. “Hurry,” is all the voice said and the stone’s center swirled to life.
Layala shoved Piper through first, then nodded to Fennan. “GO!” He briefly hesitated then disappeared into the swirls. Layala stepped right after him into a forest of colorful autumn trees that could only be Calladira.
