I Am the Night (The Night Firm Book 3) Read online

  I pat one on the nose, murmuring reassuringly to them.

  Before I can figure out how to fix the wheel and get us back on the road, the Dragon's Breath above us begins to shimmer and stretch, a tear appearing in the fabric of the world itself, revealing a true wonder. A dragon, the largest I've ever seen—easily three times the size of the others, flies through the tear and hovers in the air. Her wings are stretched wide and she is covered in golden scales that glow like the sun. She lowers herself to earth, shifting into human form as she does, until a woman stands there, long hair golden and wavy, an intricate golden crown on her head, and golden wings draped over her back like a cloak. Her skin is iridescent and shines brightly and her eyes are golden orbs. She wears a gown that shimmers with flecks of gold that catch in the light, and her presence causes all of the dragons to stop their arguing and land before her, turning back to their human form even as they bow before her.

  "Who's that?" I whisper to Elijah, whose jaw has dropped in amazement.

  "That… the gods help us, that is Amir'Amora'Akar. The Mother of Dragons."

  The Mother

  Out of the ash

  I rise with my red hair

  And I eat men like air.’

  ~Slyvia Plath, Lady Lazarus

  I'm momentarily paralyzed by the wonder of her, but then, as Elijah attempts to pull me into a curtsy, I take Ana's hand and usher her back into the carriage which wobbles with her weight but doesn't tip over.

  "Stay in here and stay hidden," I whisper, and I take the baby dragon from Sebastian and hand her to the girl. "And keep Zara hidden. Can you do that?"

  Ana nods, her eyes wide and scared, but she doesn't hesitate to take the infant.

  I close the door behind them and hope they go unnoticed, because shit's about to get real, and I'm just going out on a limb here, but I'm pretty sure it will not go well if all the dragons in the world discover we are trying to kidnap the only baby dragon in existence. I mean, I could be misreading the situation, but given the glares I'm getting from the Night brothers, I'm pretty sure I'm not.

  "Why do my children fight amongst themselves?" the Mother of Dragons demands, her voice carrying over time and space and into the very souls of each of us, or so it feels.

  Dath'Racul looks cowed—and I rather enjoy seeing the arrogant ass taken down a few notches by mommy. But then I look at the golden dragon again and feel my insides coil and wrap around themselves and my brief delight at his discomfort turns to reluctant empathy. This is not a woman to mess with.

  "Mother," Racul says, his voice still powerful despite his humbled position. "Ventus attacked me, accusing me of taking the life of Lyx, but it is not true."

  Amora seems to grow in size as her anger envelops her like a cloak. "Two of my children have died. Two immortal beings of ultimate power ripped from the worlds. It is unthinkable. Who has done this thing?" she demands. "It was not one of you, it cannot be one of you. That would be beyond blasphemous."

  "I do not believe it was any of us," Racul says, tossing a cross look at his brother. "Ava'Kara gave her life voluntarily," he offers.

  Amora scoffs. "I am well aware of what Kara did and why. To preserve this dilapidated, failed experiment of a world. As if the life and soul of a dragon was worth this scrap heap."

  My blood boils at her words, and my spine stiffens as I listen. Derek shoots me a cautioning glance.

  "What has become of Kara's child? Where is my grandchild?" Amora looks around as if one of the dragons might magically produce her from thin air.

  I shift uncomfortably and pointedly do not look at the carriage, even though we might as well be invisible to the dragons. Which suits me just fine.

  "We have not yet been to the scene of the crime," Racul admits. "We do not know where the child is."

  "Because you were too busy fighting amongst yourselves," she shouts, her words like daggers piercing the hearts of her children. "Behaving much like the vagabond you created this world for."

  They all drop their heads. It's clear there's no good answer to that, so they don't try.

  "And what of Lyx'Ara?" Amora asks. "Her death was not voluntary. Someone must pay."

  "We will begin an investigation," Racul says. "Her killer will suffer."

  "You are correct in that my child," she says, a saccharine smile spreading over her lips but never reaching her hard golden eyes. "That is why I have come. To punish those who would harm my children."

  Ventus'Arak, the Air Dragon, glances up. "What is your plan?" he asks cautiously.

  "My plan," she says, stepping forward, "is to end this little experiment. Once you have found my grandchild and left this miserable excuse for a world, I will destroy it and all who still remain, including my daughter's murderer."

  My heart drops to my gut, and even the dragons look shocked.

  "Mother, please reconsider," Racul says. "This is our home."

  She holds up her hand and a beam of golden light shoots from her palm, hitting Racul in the gut. He stumbles back, grunting in pain. "This is not your home, child. This is your creation, but it is not your home. Your home awaits you in our true world, unencumbered by the muddy mixed races of these substandard beings you've surrounded yourselves with. I've indulged you long enough, and this indulgence has cost me two of my children. I will allow it no longer."

  "No!" I shout, stepping forward, the words rush out of my mouth before I can change my mind. I can feel the frustrated and frightened looks of the brothers on me as I approach closer to the dragon.

  She turns her attention to me, and it is a fright to behold her direct gaze. "Who dares speak to me!" It's not a question, it's a command.

  "Eve Oliver," I say as my power fills me, just as it did the night I confronted Cole. "The Maiden Fate returned." The past, present and future collide, and I feel myself rising from the ground, glowing with light, tinged by darkness, all the elements swirling around me. Wind whipping my hair. The earth cracking under me, bubbling with spurts of water. Fire lighting my finger tips.

  I hear the gasps of the other dragons as they witness my transformation, but I keep my eyes locked on the Mother of Dragons. Though the Dragon Council might once have seemed intimidating, they pale in comparison to her formidable presence.

  "A return of the Fates," she says, gliding towards me until we are face to face. "What intriguing timing. Tell me, do you know who took my daughter's life?"

  "Not yet," I admit. "But give me time. I will find the truth. I will find justice for your daughter, who was also my friend. But you cannot destroy this world."

  Lightning cracks around her and her eyes glow a violent gold as power surges around us. "You dare tell me what I can or cannot do, Fate?"

  My power pulses and grows, enveloping us both. It's a pissing contest, but a necessary one. She will only respond to power. I feel this instinctively and know I cannot back down. "I do. This world does not belong to you. It no longer belongs to just the dragons. It is all of ours. And it is mine. My soul flows in the lakes and streams, my blood feeds the roots of the trees, my magic powers the winds and sparks the fires… this world is now a part of me, and I cannot let you destroy it."

  Her eyes widen and her golden light pools out into long tendrils that extend from her body and dive into the ground, as if testing my claims. "It seems you are correct. You have become part of this world." She doesn't sound happy at the proclamation, but I press my advantage while I can.

  "There are good people here. Innocent people. They do not deserve to die for the crime of one."

  She pauses, considering her next words. "You may very well be one of the Fates returned, but you are weak without an Order. In the past, the Fates were aided by the Druids, who shared their power and strengthened them. What do you have? You have no sisters. You have no Order. You are nothing."

  My power seems to dim at her words, and I don't know how to respond. I hadn't considered the position the Fates had in the past and how that might impact me in the present. It's been a lo
t to wrap my mind around as it is.

  My thoughts race as I flash through everything I've read and learned trying to think of an adequate response, but nothing useful comes to mind. Then Sebastian steps forward, joining me, and bends down on one knee. "I am one of the original Druids and I pledge myself to Eve. She is not alone."

  I look down at the handsome Earth Druid, overcome by emotion at his declaration. But before I can respond, Liam steps forward as well.

  "I too pledge myself to the Maiden Fate. My power is hers. My service is hers. I am hers."

  "And I," says Elijah, joining his brothers.

  "We all pledge ourselves," says Derek, taking his place. All four of the brothers are kneeling at my feet, as Amora and I float above the ground in a cloud of power.

  The golden dragon studies the Night brothers thoughtfully. "You were a powerful Order once," she says. "And I can see that your magic have returned. But I am surprised that after all that happened, you four would willingly commit yourself to the Fates once more, given all that entails."

  I want to ask what 'all that entails' means, but this doesn't seem like a great time to interrupt.

  "We commit ourselves to Eve," Sebastian says stubbornly.

  "Very well," she says. "Formalize your vows and I will reconsider." She holds up a hand and produces a golden ceremonial dagger and matching bowl, and hands it to Elijah.

  Amora moves away from us and the Night brothers circle me as I lower myself to the ground. Then they each call upon their element, letting it dance between us. Fire, earth, air, water.

  I can't help but thinking we're missing the light and darkness Cole would bring. But I push aside that thought and focus.

  Elijah slices his palm, causing the blood to pool on his skin, then lets the blood drop into the bowl before he passes both to Sebastian. Around the circle they go, cutting into their own flesh, letting it drop into the bowl.

  Once all four have done so, Liam, the last to use the blade, reaches for my hand, and I offer it to him, letting him slice into my palm. My blood mixes with the brothers' and Liam takes the bowl and sips it, then passes it around. When it finally returns to me, I realize I'm meant to drink the blood that is left. So I do.

  As soon as the mixture of our blood slides down my throat I see the bonds between us form, like silver chords attaching each of us, and I'm suddenly much more aware of them, their feelings, their presence, their magic. It's heady, to feel this deeply intimate connection.

  "Very well," Amora says. "I will give you a fortnight to discover who killed my daughter and bring them to me. If you do not, I will destroy this world and you with it. If you do, I will spare this world."

  Two weeks. That's not enough time, but it will have to do. "I will need the cooperation of the other dragons to accomplish this in such a short time. And I will need full authority to do whatever must be done."

  "As you wish," she says, gesturing for the Dragon Council to approach. "You, my beloveds, are under the temporary authority of the Maiden Fate, who is tasked with finding my daughter's killer. Give her your rings, and afford her every liberty and cooperation. I expect you will not disappoint me in this," she says, giving each of them, as well as me, a pointed glare.

  They look none too happy at this proclamation and grumble under their breaths, but they do not argue.

  The Earth Dragon steps forward first, tugging the ring off her finger and handing it to me.

  Each of them follow suit, silently relinquishing their authority to someone they clearly consider a lesser being. Or at least they did before they found out who I really am.

  Still, dragons are not easily humbled. They will obey their mother, but they don't have to like it.

  Once I've slipped all their rings onto my fingers, I pause, studying them, wondering what use they are, other than implied authority.

  As if sensing my question, Amora shows me her ring. "These symbols on the sides of the ring, if you channel your magic and trace them into the air, will summon the dragon whose ring you are using."

  Wow. This is better than text messaging, at least in terms of access. Though I don't particularly want to summon pissed off dragons to me at any given moment.

  Racul's face is a study in frustrated anger. "Do not abuse this temporary privilege," he growls.

  I smile charmingly at him. "My only goal is solving this murder and saving the world. I'm sure we both want the same thing in this, do we not?"

  He glances away, unwilling to answer directly.

  Amora begins to float upward, slowly shifting into her dragon form. "I will have eyes on you all. Do not disappoint."

  And then she flies through the tear in the sky and disappears.

  I look to the dragons, a bit flabbergasted by the shift in power dynamic. But we don't have a lot of time, so I need to start getting answers.

  "First question for all of you," I say, skipping the small talk. "What, besides another dragon, can kill one of you?"

  Racul glances at her siblings and then scowls at me. "There is nothing else that can kill a dragon."

  "So it was one of you," I challenge.

  "No." His answer is curt.

  "I'm sure you can see how this creates a problem. You do want to save the world don't you?"

  From the corner of my eye, I see Callia appear, her silver eyes glowing like the horn on her head, her skin and hair as black as ink. The unicorn woman shifts to my side and whispers in my ear. "They are lying to you. There is one other thing that can kill a dragon." She turns to face me, the horn on her head glowing a bright—nearly blinding—silver. "Me."

  The Vision

  The night is darkening round me,

  The wild winds coldly blow ;

  But a tyrant spell has bound me,

  And I cannot, cannot go.

  ~Emily Bronte, The Night is Darkening Around Me

  The dragons each transform and fly away, leaving me stunned and deflated as my magic drains from me. Callia is still here, her eyes now locked on the tear in the sky the Mother of Dragons just disappeared into. I leave her to her thoughts and turn to the brothers, who stand beside me like sentinels.

  "What the hell just happened?" I ask nobody in particular.

  Elijah grins. "I think you just became the most powerful person in this world."

  "Shit."

  Sebastian runs a hand through his hair, a frown tugging at his lips. "This is… complicated. You bought us time, but if we don't solve this murder, she'll hold you personally responsible."

  "I'm not sure how that's any worse than her destroying the world today with us in it," I point out as we walk back to the carriage.

  "Good point," Sebastian says, though the worry has not left his face.

  I look down at the rings lining my fingers. All six of the dragon rings plus Cole's ring. I can feel the power in them all zinging through my flesh, sending goosebumps up my arms. "We need to get Ana and Zara home," I say. "And then we've got to get to work."

  We also need to talk about the oaths they all just took, but right now isn't the time. First, I need to find out more from Callia about how she can kill dragons.

  "Explain," I tell her, and the brothers glance at me, then realize I'm talking to an invisible unicorn and studiously ignore us.

  "The only way to kill a dragon—other than being a dragon yourself—is to puncture their heart with a unicorn horn," she says.

  She glances away, as if caught in a long-forgotten memory. "There were many of us once upon a time. We galloped over the lands free and wild. Until one day, a unicorn and a dragon got into an argument, and the unicorn ran the dragon through with his horn. The dragon died, shocking everyone. This was so long ago most on this world wouldn't remember it, but still the story spread, and then we were hunted, our horns fetching top price from illegal traders. The dragons, fearing the risk we posed, even those of us loyal to the Council, did the unspeakable. They quietly had all the unicorns killed and had all our horns destroyed by dragon fire."

  "Did t
hey kill you?" I ask, stunned by the cruelty of it all.

  "Yes." But she doesn't expand as we reach the carriage.

  I leave the questions for later as I examine the busted wheel. "Couldn't earth magic fix this?" I ask Sebastian.

  "No, this is dead wood. I can't manipulate something that has no life left in it."

  "You can," Callia whispers into my ear. "You have all the elements and can therefore sing to the parts that are dead, and the parts that yet live."

  I'm used to these impromptu lessons from her, and I love stretching my powers, so I concentrate and focus on the wheel, on the molecules that form it, and I visualize it repairing itself like a broken bone. As I do, the wheel shifts, shakes, and begins to move together, the splintered pieces fusing back into one seamlessly, until it's entirely restored.

  "Is there any limit to your power?" Sebastian asks, in awe.

  "I don't know. How would I fare in a straight up fight with the Mother of Dragons?" I ask. "Because if we don't do what she wants, it might come to that."

  They all look like they're about to shit themselves at the suggestion. Even Callia shakes her head.

  "You are not ready to face her," Callia says. "She's much more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

  I detect equal measure awe and fear in her voice, and I wonder how well she knows the golden dragon. I'm still not entirely used to dealing with beings who have lived such ancient lives. It's a perspective that's hard to fit into a human-sized lifespan.

  "You cannot fight her," Elijah says, speaking over Callia.

  "Yeah, I just got the lecture from the unicorn. I get it. Let's do our jobs so I don't have to." I reach for the carriage to get in, when Callia passes a hand over mine and a flash grips me so hard my stomach clenches and I double over in pain, vomiting what little food is in my stomach.

  Liam rushes to my side, holding my hips as I continue to heave.

  He's speaking, but I can't hear him, as my head pounds with the grip of a vision I can't stop or control.