Dragon Fire Read online

  The evening was cold and Anna regretted wearing a dress. “You’re not coming in.”

  “We can stand out here, if that’s what you prefer,” said Ulf, looking up at the sky.

  Randi opened the door. “Anna! Finally,” she squealed. She threw herself at Anna. “I didn’t know you were bringing someone.”

  “I’m not,” Anna said. “He’s leaving. Now.”

  Randi glanced at Ulf who was leaning elegantly against the railing in what could have passed for a golden boy fashion shot. “Is that your boyfriend?” Randi asked hanging onto Anna. She looked Ulf up and down. “Is that why you didn’t come earlier?”

  “Let’s go in,” Anna said, trying to get Randi back in the house.

  Ulf slid an arm around Randi’s waist. “Perhaps I can help.”

  “Oh sure,” Randi said. She giggled as she leaned into Ulf. “You have a nice… car.”

  “Leave her alone.” Anna pried Ulf’s wandering hands away from Randi who was happily wrapping her arms around Ulf’s neck. “Randi, knock it off.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Randi pushed away from Ulf. “He’s yours. I forgot.”

  “I’ll take her,” said Siri, steadying Randi. “That way you guys can come in and take your coats off.”

  “Ulf has a date,” Anna said. She blocked the door after Siri and Randi disappeared inside. “With my mom. Or have you forgotten?”

  “Sweet little Anna.” Ulf reached out to touch her cheek with his leather gloved hand.

  Anna slapped it away. “Get away from me.”

  “You’re so adorable when you’re angry,” he said with a laugh. “Call me when you want me to come for you.”

  Anna resisted the impulse to slam the door and closed it calmly instead. The living room was packed with people dancing. She rubbed her forehead and walked over to the dining room table that was laden with food and drinks instead. She’d never understand her mom’s taste in men.

  Siri came and nudged her shoulder. “Where’s the guy you came with?”

  “Gone,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “Finally.”

  “He didn’t look your type,” Siri said with a shrug. “But you never know.”

  “He’s not. He’s my mom’s boyfriend. And he’s a jerk.”

  Siri’s hand hovered over the massacred chocolate cake. “That’s a mess.”

  “Tell me about it.” Ulf was by far the worst of her mom’s recent boyfriends. He was a liar and a manipulator. But her mom never saw beyond a pretty face.

  Siri dropped her voice. “Have you seen June? Is she coming?”

  “No. She went away with her boyfriend and his family for the vacation.” Anna noticed Siri’s look of relief. “Why?” she asked sharply.

  “I was worried that maybe she didn’t feel welcome. And I felt guilty. I mean… I’m really sorry about Fritjof.” Siri paused. “But I’m starting to wonder why I thought some of his ideas were good. I know you never liked him. But… I thought he was right. About June being different and the need to keep our race pure and all that.” Siri looked away. “I’m embarrassed I let myself believe any of it.”

  “He was persuasive, I guess.” Anna tried not to rub it in, but she was happy that at least one friend was coming back around.

  “Maybe. But I really am sorry.”

  “Tell June after the break.” Anna put her glass up to Siri’s. “She’ll understand.”

  “Why are you girls being so serious?” boomed Anna’s cousin, Red. He put an arm around each of them. “There’s music. You should be dancing. Or aren’t there any nice guys?”

  “Anna never thinks there are any nice guys. But I see a few.” Siri raised her glass and headed across the room that had started to get crowded now that a slow song was playing.

  “What are you doing here?” Anna playfully punched her cousin who was built like a rugby player. “You graduated last year. You’re not part of the team anymore.”

  “We told the guys that we’d be back,” said Red, nodding to where his best friend, Haakon, was surrounded by half the boys’ team. “But we can’t stay – we promised the girls we’d go to a dinner party. And they’ll kill us if we’re late.” Red and Haakon had dominated the court with their size and skill for the past three years, but neither of their girlfriends played.

  “I’m surprised they even let you out of their sight.” Anna waved a finger at her cousin who had the same ultra blond hair and pale blue eyes as she did. “I’ve hardly seen you at all this vacation.”

  “I know. We’ve been busy. But I’m here now.” The music picked up again. “Dance?” He took her hand and then dropped it as if he had been stung. He grabbed her wrist and turned her palm up, revealing the star-shaped Firemark. “Who did this?” he growled, his face turning the telltale shade of red that had earned him his nickname.

  Anna pulled her hand out of his and closed her fist. “No one.”

  “A mark like that can’t just appear.”

  “Why do you care what did it?”

  “What do you mean what did it?” Red gripped her shoulders. “You were the one…?” Red’s voice trailed off, but his eyes bore into hers as if he was trying to peer into her mind.

  Anna pulled back, breaking the contact. “What are you talking about?” She hadn’t said anything about what had happened on the hill and June had left town right after the vigil.

  Red laughed, but Anna could still feel his anger like a tightly coiled snake. “Nothing,” he said. “Let’s dance.”

  * * *

  Dvara paced around the massive table that filled the stone hall of Khotan’s lair. “Why are we waiting? Paaliaq has had more than enough time to hide again.”

  “That is for Kairök Yarlung to decide,” Khotan said, using Yarlung’s official title as the head of their Cairn. As Kraal’s mate, she had taken over after his death.

  “She’s too busy with her political games to think about it.” Dvara snorted. “She’s never had time for us anyhow.”

  Rakan looked up from the intricate wire sculpture he was making. “Maybe she just wants to make sure you won’t throw yourself at Paaliaq in a hotheaded rage.”

  “I’m no fool.” Dvara leaned over the table towards her half-brother. “I won’t attack until I’m certain to win. But I will attack. Unlike some I know.”

  Rakan stood, towering over her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Sit,” Khotan said from his high-backed burgundy chair at the head of the table. “Both of you.” He waited until they complied. “The only reason you’re going instead of one of us is because Paaliaq won’t recognize you. Unfortunately, neither one of you is experienced enough to trap Paaliaq on your own.” Khotan looked from one to the other. “You’ll have to work together. Remember that.”

  “But why did she set off one of Rakan’s old triggers?” Dvara hit the table with her fist. “It makes no sense. Even a newborn whelp would have felt what it was before touching it.”

  Khotan created a burgundy colored fireball that floated in front of him. “Either she isn’t Paaliaq, or she’s luring you into a trap.” The stone walls reflected the warm glow of the fireball. “This isn’t a game. And I wish we didn’t have to send you.” Khotan’s face went blank for a split second as it always did when he spoke mentally with another dragon. “Yarlung bids us come to Lhang-tso,” he said, standing up. “Now.” Khotan disappeared without a sound, the fireball still suspended in midair.

  Dvara followed in her stepfather’s trail, leaving Rakan to arrive last on the silver shores of the intensely blue lake that was Kairök Yarlung’s home. They faced the lake in their dragon forms. Khotan, an air dragon, rose on his burgundy hind legs and bellowed their arrival.

  The blue-white coils of Yarlung’s water dragon form undulated majestically in the center of the crescent shaped lake. Rakan had always felt a sense of awe in front of his mother’s abode. Something about its starkness, the pungent salty flavor of the wind that rolled off the lake, the beauty of the contrasting red hills th
at surrounded it in the thin air of its 4,500 meter high perch had always made him feel like he was in the presence of something profound. He smiled and rocked back onto his own hind legs, stretched his majestic coral wings and added his greetings to his father’s. Neither animal nor plant life ventured near the lake. They were refreshingly alone. And free.

  Dvara, a compact fire dragon with only the shortest of wings, dug her claws into the ground. She raised her jewel-like vermillion head and joined her voice to the others’.

  Yarlung approached the edge of the lake and morphed into her human form. She signaled for them to do the same. Flashes of turquoise glinted off her metallic white dress. Rakan knelt next to his father and Dvara, his right fist on the center of his chest where his rök pounded in excitement.

  “Rise. It is time,” Yarlung said, her voice snapping like thunder. “If the dragon who set off Rakan’s trigger is Paaliaq, I will savor her death.” Yarlung paused and then spoke again, more quietly. “If not, I will bind her to me by taking her rök whether she wills it or not. But I believe she is Paaliaq. Too many things confirm it. Including the presence of a male dragon who can only be her mate, Haakaramanoth.”

  The wind howled across the lake.

  “From what our scouts have been able to gather these past three weeks,” Khotan said, “she has created the illusion of being an untrained whelp and goes by the name Jing Mei. But don’t be fooled by her innocent appearance.”

  Yarlung’s nostrils flared. “If she even begins to suspect who you are, she’ll kill you. Pretend you’re untrained. Take your time and get close to her. But not too close. Only one member of her Cairn is left and she will want to possess you both. Starting with Rakan’dzor. She has always preferred males.”

  “But the Code forbids blood relatives to have the same Kairök,” Rakan said.

  Yarlung snorted. “Paaliaq has no honor. Never forget that.” She turned to Khotan. “Give Dvara back her rök. Paaliaq will be suspicious if she doesn’t have it.”

  “But the risk…” stammered Khotan.

  “Is of no consequence. Do it. Now. And then bind her to you as Kraal taught you.”

  “No,” said Khotan. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Have you become so frail that you can no longer master even that?”

  Khotan bowed his head. “May your will be done,” he said, saying the traditional formula of submission to a Kairök. But Rakan could feel his father’s anger.

  Dvara tilted her chin and gave Rakan a look of triumph. She had wanted her rök back ever since Yarlung had declared that he would keep his and remain independent. But learning to control his rök had been harder than he had let on. Starting with when he had morphed for the first time not knowing which of the three dragon forms he would take. But even after he knew he was an air dragon, his rök’s wild power had nearly overwhelmed him. It wasn’t until Khotan had taught him to control his emotions that he could morph without fear of involuntarily killing himself or his family.

  Khotan walked over to Dvara, his fluid black pants snapping in the wind. They stood still, facing each other as equals even though Khotan loomed over Dvara’s delicate figure. Khotan began a low chant in Draagsil, the ancient language of the dragon race. He lifted his arms to the sky, his bare chest glistening like armor. Energy crackled and began to circle him. It spun faster and faster until Khotan was nothing more than a shimmering mirage in front of Dvara. A faint drum-like beat began, steadily increasing in tempo as it grew louder. Suddenly, the wind died and the beating stopped. A mass of pure vermillion energy licked Khotan’s hands like the flames of a fire. The energy condensed in a flash of vermillion light, leaving a bright red stone in Khotan’s palm. Dvara’s dragon heart.

  Khotan held the egg-shaped rök to the sky before releasing it to hover above Dvara’s head. It glittered like a crown jewel. “My will has been done. You are now your own master. May your will be one with your rök.”

  A red flame moved up Dvara’s gown, circling her body until it reached her rök. The rök ignited in a ball of wild energy. It spun around her in an uncontrolled frenzy. It was going to kill her. Rakan sprang forward, desperate to catch Dvara’s rök before it was too late, but Khotan stopped him. “No. Their reunion can’t be interfered with. It must run its course. For better or for worse.”

  The rök lurched. Rakan stood ready to intervene if things got worse. Whether he was supposed to or not, he wouldn’t stand by and watch her die. A brilliant flash of intense vermillion encompassed Dvara, knocking her to the ground.

  Yarlung snorted in contempt. “Tend to her.”

  Khotan knelt next to Dvara and touched a hand to her forehead, healing her with his energy. She latched onto Khotan, her red eyes echoing the wildness of her rök.

  “Come,” Khotan said, helping her to stand. “Do you accept of your own free will that I mark you with Kraal’s neutralized poison and bind you to me in a partial link?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you understand the consequences of this act?”

  Yarlung growled her impatience, but Dvara didn’t take her eyes from Khotan’s.

  “I do,” Dvara said solemnly.

  “What consequences?” thought Rakan, glancing at his mother. But she ignored him.

  Khotan morphed and sank his claws into Dvara’s bare arms. Rakan watched, horrified, as Dvara writhed by the edge of the lake in a mixture of rapture and agony. A black winged air dragon with burgundy eyes danced on each arm before fading under her skin.

  “Go now,” Yarlung said, her words lingering for just a moment after she disappeared.

  “Rakan…”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “If you need to contact us, send a message through Dvara.”

  Rakan nodded, confused. Didn’t his father know that Yarlung had marked him too?

  Khotan disappeared. It was time.

  Chapter 2

  Back to School

  ANNA SAT IN THE KITCHEN WINDOW rubbing the star on her palm. It was a perfect morning. The mountains across the fjord gleamed in the moonlight and the snow reflected the peaceful radiance of the never setting moon. Plus, Ulf hadn’t come back after going out last night. It was the kind of morning Anna wished she had had more of over the vacation.

  “Why are you sitting in the dark?” Ingrid flipped on the light that bounced off the window, turning it into a black mirror that blocked the view of the outdoors.

  “Because I didn’t think you’d be getting up.” Anna scowled. The bright kitchen suddenly felt like a cage that was closing in on her.

  “And you can’t turn the lights on without me?”

  “I just—”

  “—like to see outside,” her mother finished for her. “Just like your father.”

  Anna looked at her mom, surprised. The subject of her father was taboo.

  “I’m glad you’re up early,” continued Ingrid. “I think we need to have a little chat.”

  Anna braced herself. Having a ‘little chat’ had never been a good thing.

  “I think I’m finally ready to have a real relationship with someone again.” Ingrid twisted her wedding band around her finger. “I gave Ulf keys to the apartment last night.”

  Anna glared at her mom. She was lying. The spare pair had been missing for at least a week.

  “I know it might seem a bit fast to you,” Ingrid said, misinterpreting Anna’s silence. “But it really is different with Ulf.” Ingrid waited for a response, but none came. “He suggested we keep both apartments for now, to give you some time to adjust. He said that it might be hard for you to accept him since he’s so much younger than me. He really wants you to feel comfortable with this. He even suggested that maybe you could spend some time together – he loves being outdoors as much as you do. And I don’t. Not since your father…”

  “…died,” said Anna, finishing the sentence her mother never could.

  “Didn’t come home,” snapped Ingrid.

  Anna shrugged and looked back out the window, e
ven though she couldn’t see anything. “Whatever.” Her father hadn’t come home from his solo expedition to the North Pole ten years ago. And her mother still couldn’t face the facts. About that or anything else.

  Ingrid took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to react that way. What I’m trying to say is that maybe you and Ulf could go skiing one afternoon.”

  “No.”

  “Can’t you give him a chance? It means a lot to me.”

  Anna glowered at her mother’s reflection.

  Ingrid sighed. “Ulf said you’d probably refuse and I shouldn’t worry about it. He says it’s normal for a seventeen-year-old to be jealous of her mother’s boyfriend, especially when he’s young enough that he could’ve been yours. But I didn’t think you were like that.”

  “Mom. Believe me, I’m not jealous. I just don’t like him. He’s a total jerk.”

  Ingrid’s pale skin flushed bright red. “There isn’t a more honest or hard working man than Ulf. In spite of being only twenty-six, he’s a brilliant cultural anthropologist. And part of his work is observing how people interact in nightclubs.”

  “Yes, I know. He keeps telling us that.”

  Ingrid blinked. “So what’s the problem?”

  “He’s a liar and his idea of research is running around,” Anna said, unable to control her anger any longer. “He doesn’t even care about you.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You’re worried he doesn’t love me? I know I’ve had a lot of men in and out of my life since… in the past ten years… but this time it’s different. You’ll see. It’ll be okay.” Her mother came and gave her a hug. “I love you, too, honey.”

  Even though it was early, Anna got up and pulled on her outdoor clothes. With a little luck, her mother’s new toy boy wouldn’t last any longer than any of the others anyway. And her mom wouldn’t be hurt, yet again.

  The arctic air nipped Anna’s cheeks. She stopped on the slope to look up, expecting to see the bright green Northern Lights. But they weren’t there. And yet she had felt something. The star on her palm throbbed and Anna closed her eyes. She felt the power of the mountains that jutted up around the island town. If only she could somehow slip into them and away from the city that was just beginning to wake up.