“Precisely. If we can’t locate Luigsech quickly, we might have to bring Storm here to track her. There is none better at following natural scents or supernatural essence.”
Daegan couldn’t fault Quinn’s suggestion, but he had reservations they could discuss later. He instructed Quinn, “Focus on that—”
Power flushed into the front room. Imortiks?
Daegan teleported them immediately, hoping Quinn had the visual in place. A boulder would move for Daegan’s energy, but not Quinn who stood too far from his side.
Chapter 13
Torn skin and damaged muscles in Tristan’s abused wrists failed to heal. His dead weight kept a constant drag on his arms, which would be noodles once he got out of these straps.
If he got out of this mess.
The possibility of that happening dwindled by the minute.
He had no idea of his specific location even if he could reach Daegan by calling telepathically.
Tried that again and got the migraine for it.
That damn Cathbad had chosen well for hiding from everyone, including Queen Maeve.
Tristan’s heart thumped over and over. For the first time ever, he wished his heart could be silenced. An Alterant gryphon had an unusual evolution, which Cathbad and Queen Maeve had forced on Tristan, Evalle, and the rest of their Alterant pack. When those two crazies had the Alterants captured in TÅμr Medb, they’d shoved each Alterant into a life-and-death battle with another creature capable of killing them.
Tristan would never forget the first time he drew his last breath.
That’s when he found out Alterants had to die once to evolve into gryphons with the ability to fly. Then each Alterant had two more lives.
Since then, he’d died again and regenerated.
Sounded simple.
Wasn’t. Hurt like shit.
Where he’d been forced to die the first time in TÅμr Medb, he’d chosen death the second time when their team had brought Evalle home from the Scamall realm.
The teleportation killed her.
Noirre majik had been shoved in her body to prevent anyone from teleporting her out of that realm, but Daegan, Storm, and the team wouldn’t leave her with the realm collapsing.
Tristan had held her hand and taken his last breath with her, thinking he would pull off a trick Evalle had once done. She’d used her last regeneration to save Tzader after he’d died crashing through the ward on Treoir Castle to protect their warrior queen, Brina.
Tristan had been terrified of killing Evalle himself, but he’d held tight to her. He forced her to use their Belador ability to link with him so she would come back to life as he regenerated a second time.
Looked fucking good on paper.
But he’d been sure he lost her at one point.
Worst moment of his life. He never wanted to hold someone’s life in his hands again and made that clear to Daegan. The dragon king said it would happen again. That protecting and caring for others sometimes came at a high personal price.
Of course Daegan was right, because Tristan would do it again if given the choice.
That damn powerful heart of his thumped faster with the frightening memory. All that blood coursing through his body caused the pain and agony to kick up another notch. He gritted his teeth to keep from yelling out.
Why had he gone off on that mental rabbit trail?
Ah, yes.
Because he’d been searching for a way to beat Cathbad at his game of turning him into a polymorph. It would be so simple if Tristan died from a heart attack, but his gryphon heart wouldn’t fail.
If anything, he’d come back as a more powerful monster with his third, and last, regeneration.
Wouldn’t that be a bitch?
A polymorph of unimaginable power and the ability to shift into a flying beast.
Even to emulate a red dragon.
If agony of being captured and used to destroy Daegan would stop a heart, his would have quit the minute Cathbad announced his sick plans.
Daegan deserved better. That dragon shifter would fight the world for his people.
Somehow, Tristan would find a way to do the same for his boss and his people. He just needed an idea. Might be easier to think with a sip of water. He licked his cracked lips and wondered if he still had a voice.
Across the room, Brynhild made a growling noise and slammed her foot hard against the ground. The cavern shook. Ice cracked along the roof and splattered across the ground.
Some hit Tristan’s skin, piercing him like tiny daggers.
But she’d held her hands up over her head. Ice sheets that could slice her in half instead drifted to each side of her like a stream flowing around a rock in the river.
She’d been stomping around the cave since Cathbad left. Tristan had grown accustomed to the incessant bootheel thumping when she crossed an icy surface.
What was the chance he could get information out of her?
Worth a try.
Tristan called out in a hoarse voice, “If you’re bored, you could talk to me. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”
She ceased her private grumbling and turned to him.
Across the wide expanse of this semi-lit cavern, her eyes glowed a bright blue.
Studying him like a strange beast, she moved her head from side to side. He’d say she moved in an unnatural way, but neither of them were natural.
Walking slowly in his direction, she asked, “What would we speak of?”
That one might be a hard nut to crack, but with the motivation riding his shoulders, he was up to the task. He’d do pretty much anything if it meant finding a way out of this place and protecting Daegan from these two.
He dragged out a smile as far as his dry lips would allow when he wanted to snarl. “You could tell me what this is all about.”
Brynhild stood still for a moment, staring at him with indecision in her face. Then she continued strolling forward.
What kind of nonhuman was she?
Tristan couldn’t see Cathbad uniting with a mere witch. Could Brynhild be Fae? No, Tristan was pretty sure a Fae could get out of here.
What about
