“Yesss.” Morgis’s clan had traded with smugglers and coastal towns for some generations, so their presence on this continent, while rare, was not unheard of. Still, Kalena stared at him as if seeing the most wondrous jewel in the world.
Her hand ran across his chest. “This scale. This is you, not armor.”
“It isss ssstronger than mossst armor…”
Leonin chose that moment to return, his arms full of dry wood. He chuckled at Morgis’s obvious discomfort, then cheerfully carried the fuel to the center. “No need to disturb yourselves! I’ll be lightin’ the fire as usual.”
A moment later, Awrak, too, returned. “Horses nervous, very nervous. Didn’t want to come in, not come in at all.”
In truth, he had to nearly drag the animals to the far side of the chamber. Morgis would have preferred the horses in a stable, but not this night.
The bird man eyed Leonin’s efforts with disdain. “Be all night making that, all night.” He made a squawking sound. “Not nearly enough wood, too, wood not nearly enough.”
“My arms aren’t as big as our scaly friend’s here,” the human said with a wink. “There’s still some more just outside the entrance.”
While Awrak went to retrieve the remainder of Morgis’s load, Kalena finally disengaged herself and went to the small fire Leonin had managed. He looked up at her, grinning. The cat woman, her cloak still clutched protectively around her, knelt, taking in the warmth.
Grateful to be free yet oddly disappointed at the same time, Morgis kept watch. One hand remained on the sword at his side. It, the sheath, and the belt that held them-all gifts from the Master Guardians-were the only items on his person that were not actually a part of his skin. If he needed to transform, the belt would simply break, a necessary loss.
“So warm,” he heard Kalena murmur pleasantly. His red orbs shifted to her, taking in her shrouded form and her young face. Again he recalled another feline face and the burgeoning emotions he had been forced to keep in check. More than in the Dragonrealm, it was not uncommon to find pairings of different races. Some, like the Gryphon and Troia, had even been blessed with offspring. Others had no such hope, but love bound them together.
There were times when he wished that he had sailed home… and other times he was glad that he had not.
A slight scraping noise arose from the open window to his right.
The sword came out. Morgis poised for attack. Leonin leapt from the fire, his own blade ready to back up the drake.
Nothing.
“Just a branch rubbin’ against the stone,” suggested the human.
“Maybe.” Morgis glanced to the entrance. “Awrak hasss been gone for quite a long time, don’t you think?”
“He has, hasn’t he?”
Kalena slipped around the campfire and clutched Leonin’s free arm. Morgis tried to ignore the thoughts that briefly raced through his mind upon seeing this.
“I shall go investigate,” the drake finally declared.
“Want I should go, too?”
“No. Ssstay with her.”
The cat woman rewarded his concern with a grateful smile, which Morgis pretended to ignore. Sword before him, he stepped out to where Awrak should have been gathering the wood.
But the avian was nowhere to be seen. The wood lay in a small stack, as if Awrak had prepared it, then wandered off.
Morgis sincerely doubted that his companion had done so foolhardy a thing.
Taking a risk, he called out the bird man’s name, but the harsh wind swallowed his attempt. Morgis hissed. Bending low, he seized an armful of wood and quickly retreated inside.
Leonin frowned when he saw the drake. “By that armload you’ve got there, I take it our friend is gone.”
“There was no sssssign of him. No sign of any struggle, either.” Morgis forced out the two words, fighting the sibilation common among drakes when they grew excited or upset. This was not the time to fall into bad and very careless habits… especially in front of Kalena.
“Maybe this time we should all go out there together,” suggested the bearded human. “That way we can keep Kalena safe and still watch for Awrak.” Despite their many differences, Leonin clearly did not like the thought of something having happened to his verbal sparring partner.
But Kalena pulled back, shaking her head and drawing her cloak yet tighter around her body. “No! I won’t go out there! We need to stay in here!”
“Easy, girl! No real fear! Morgis here’ll turn into a full-fledged dragon if need be! Let’s see any monster take that on!”
A tingle coursed through the drake. It bothered him more than it should have that Leonin had reminded her that Morgis was, in essence, a beast parading as an almost-man. Yet, his partner had a point. To save their lives, Morgis was prepared to transform and light the landscape afire. It shamed him that the human’s offhand suggestion should have already been a done thing, that he should be out there even now, flying over the countryside in search of Awrak.
“You shall stay here, Kalena,” he responded as soothingly as possible. “And Leonin will be your guard. I will search for Awrak alone.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, eyes so wide he thought he might willingly fall into them.
“What Leonin just sssuggested.”
He undid his belt, handing the sheath and sword to the human. For all its size, the chamber had an entrance too low and narrow for him to fit through once he changed. Morgis would have to step outside, likely halfway down the ruined path. Even among dragons, he was considered a giant.
“Please take care!” Kalena called after him.
Her concerned heartened him as he stepped out into the ungodly night. Morgis kept a sharp eye out as he wended his way down, still hoping to find some trail leading to Awrak. Curiously, without a sword, he felt somewhat naked. The drake had little desire to change to his birth form, but that choice had been taken from him.
When he felt he had moved far enough away from the keep, Morgis took a deep breath and readied himself. Almost two years had passed since his last transformation.
But as he drew upon his innate magic, willed his body to both shift in shape and grow in size, a familiar tingling touched every nerve.
The transformation faltered.
“What’sss thissss?” he muttered, body shaking and head suddenly throbbing.
From out of the dead forest burst several armored forms.
The Aramites moved like shadows come to life, their ebony armor adding to their eerie and shocking appearance. Most wielded long, narrow swords. Morgis’s eyes registered at least six of the wolf raiders, three on each side of him. He instinctively went for his sword, then cursed his folly for having left the weapon behind.
But with or without a sword and although trapped in a mortal form, the drake was hardly defenseless. As the first Aramite came at him, Morgis twisted to the side, letting the blade’s edge pass within inches of his chest. He then seized hold of the raider’s wrist and pulled the Aramite forward using a strength far superior to any one human.
With a cry, his first foe went flying into the air, colliding with a satisfying crash into two of those attacking from the opposite direction.
Seizing the weapon of one of the fallen raiders, Morgis turned to confront the remaining trio.
“Slithering out of the shadows, eh? You are not the sons of the wolf! More like the get of a serpent!”
He met the arcing blades of two of the Aramites, first deflecting them, then swinging with such brute force that the raiders retreated. The third attacker thrust as Morgis completed his swing, nearly catching the drake under the sword arm.
As Morgis fell back, one of raiders he had bowled over started to rise. Seizing the still-stunned figure by the collar, the scaled knight pulled the hapless villain in front just as three swords sought the drake’s heart.
