The structure appeared to be an exact replica of the one he’d urinated in—except dragons did indeed surround this one. Between the pillars crouched a huge lizard. Another accurate report by Hicks. Why didn’t he trust him?
Biggs watched for signs he might have been spotted and, when nothing happened, he expelled a relieved sigh. The knoll would provide cover for his men as they crawled out, but as soon as they climbed over the hill, they’d be visible. He would have two men set up the missile launcher back here and shoot down any dragons that took to the sky. The others would charge forward with blasters blazing to scare the dragons into the air.
With the lizard guards distracted and dying, Biggs would enter the structure and kill the female.
On his belly, he was scooting back down when a bugle curdled his blood. He grabbed his blaster and rolled over, expecting a dragon to swoop in, but saw empty voggy sky. He peered over the knoll and spotted a dragon landing near the structure. It released a man from its talons.
Winslow. Biggs watched the man run up the steps, the dragons hopping out of the way to let him pass. Fucking traitor.
But what a perfect opportunity to get rid of him. With one stone, he could kill two birds—a dragon and a dragon sympathizer.
He wiggled until he was out of sight of the lizards guarding the building. “Can you hear me?” he said in a loud whisper through the mic.
“We hear ya, boss.”
“Come on out. It’s clear, but stay low. Let’s kill us some dragons.”
* * * *
Adjusting her ceremonial gown, L’yla rushed into the sanctuary and assumed her place in the circle.
“I hope whatever delayed you was worth it.” O’ne’s level tone masked her immense relief at her arrival and covered up the searing pain. If she didn’t rebirth the sacred flame soon, it would release itself with disastrous results.
“No excuses, priestess. Nothing should have delayed me from my duty,” L’yla said.
She detected the faint odor of human on her. The male wasn’t the one who had desecrated the temple, but Prince T’mar would need to be alerted of the encounter. Whomever L’yla had consorted with might have knowledge of the perpetrator. But that was a task for later.
L’yla’s yellow-green eyes lit with a zeal confirmed by her scent. “Nothing shall delay me again. All that I am I give in service.” How easily and honestly she made that vow.
If only O’ne’s devotion ran as deep. She could discharge her duties with precision but not passion. Her fyre would always belong to H’ry.
Marshalling her willpower and concentration, she pushed him from her mind, blocked the sentience of the guardians, and focused on the roaring force inside her. With all twelve present, she repeated the spiral, ending up in the center. The acolytes closed in around her, forming a protective circle.
Calling forth a tiny spark, she coaxed it to a blaze in her cupped hands. Raising the fire high, she chanted, “Oh, sacred flame, eternal giver and protector of life, we offer this fire that you may manifest anew.”
Carrying the fire, she approached R’nay, who held out her oil burner. O’ne lit it, and R’nay raised it over her head. “Oh, sacred flame, eternal giver and protector of life, we offer this fire that you may manifest anew,” she repeated.
Going around the circle, she lit the oil lamps. Upon reaching L’yla, her burner burst into flame before O’ne could touch it. She could command fire? O’ne reeled from the revelation then got hit by a greater shock.
H’ry had entered the sanctuary.
* * * *
The donatta bugled and set down at the base of the steps and released H’ry. She shook her massive head, which he took as the question, was he sure he didn’t want her to stay?
“Don’t wait for me. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” Intuition he hadn’t realized he possessed insisted he enter the temple alone. And, as a pragmatic matter, if he had no lift back to the palace, O’ne couldn’t easily dismiss him. “Thank you for your help.”
The donatta bugled again and flew away.
After a fortifying drag from his inhaler, Henry bounded up the steps. He had no idea how he would talk his way in. He’d been able to enter the temple on Draco, but a lot had happened since then, and O’ne had forbidden him to come. Perhaps she’d even left orders for the guardians to stop him. Had she guessed he would break his promise?
“Temple go request I,” he said in broken Dragonish. The translator helped, but it couldn’t make him fluent.
To his amazement, the guardian scooted aside a bit, and he entered into the narrow, curving promenade. No visible doors or windows interrupted the smooth, white monotony, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Having gotten this far, he began to doubt his actions.
O’ne didn’t want him here. She’d made it perfectly plain. What if he interrupted the rebirth at a critical juncture? What if his presence doused the flame?
No, he had to believe that couldn’t happen, that he, a mere mortal human couldn’t have that kind of impact. More likely, O’ne would eject him from the temple. What excuse would he give for showing up? I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop in?
On the balls of his feet, he crept through the promenade. He shouldn’t have promised to stay away. She shouldn’t have asked. Their mating ensured he would live at least as long as she did, which could be thousands of years, possibly an eternity—and he was expected to settle
