Kestrel ran her fingers over the ancient tomes in the expansive library, marveling at how the volumes existed and hadn’t crumbled to dust. The magic of the dragons infused the whole of Blaze Mountain, and it still amazed her that life events led her to the mountain ten years before. A blast of hot breath whispered across her nape followed by smooth lips pressing against her flesh. Her husband slid his hand around her waist and pulled her into him. She sighed, feeling complete in his arms as he nibbled her ear. Andrik smoothed his palm over her purple velvet gown, feeling her rounded belly.
“How are you feeling today?”
She turned to him and smiled, seeing his black hair was loose and not braided on the sides the way he normally wore it. Kestrel loved raking her fingers through the silken strands. She touched her belly and concentrated on the life growing inside of her. She was content, but there were still another five months to go in her pregnancy. If she was carrying a human child, it would have been born by now, but dragonkin, dragon shape shifters, had a longer gestation. “I’m good. So is she.”
“How can you tell?” She heard the bafflement in his voice that she could sense the mood of their child.
Kestrel shrugged. “The same way I know we’re connected with the magic that binds us. She’ll be a dragon too, just like —”
“Momma. Momma, did you find it?” A whirlwind of energy that was their son Dravik rushed into the library and wrapped his arms around her leg, hugging her hard before looking up at her with expectant eyes. He had gotten his black hair from Andrik, but he had her honey golden eyes and the shape of her face. He was six, and for a prince he was also spoiled.
“Your Majesties, I’m sorry, he got away from me.”
“It’s okay, Shala,” Kestrel said to the young woman who had appointed herself the boy’s nursemaid no matter how many objections Kestrel had given her. The young dragonkin had fallen in love with her spellcaster and they now resided in Blaze Mountain. “Go find Brandyn and spend some time together.”
Shala blushed, curtsied, and shuffled out of the room. Kestrel ruffled her son’s hair. “Yes, I found it. I thought you were going to wait until tonight.”
“I was too excited,” he squealed.
“What’s he looking for?” Andrik inquired.
“Momma said she would show me the family tree. Is it true I’m descended from a line of great kings?” Dravik asked. His gaze darted to his father. The expectation in his eyes made her see something of a glimmer of the dragon that Kestrel was once bonded to. Castigan. He had died and, by some twist of fate or gift from the gods, had been reincarnated as Andrik. They had found one another again and their love had never been stronger.
Andrik took their son’s hand and led them to another corner of the library. Kestrel followed slowly. He stopped by a large trunk with a flat top and an ancient lock. “It’s in here. Are you sure you want to see it?”
Dravik nodded.
Her mate lifted the top of the trunk and pulled out a scroll. He took it to a long table in the center of the room. He rolled it out slowly until it took up most of the table. Andrik had showed her the document when she had first become pregnant. A line had appeared, connecting the two of them. She trailed her finger over the mark that showed there would be another child, but it didn’t have a name next to it yet. A tingle of power rode up her arm, indicating the scroll’s magic was still active. Andrik lifted his son up and set him on the edge of the table.
“Can you find your name?” Kestrel asked.
Dravik stared at her with wide eyes, bit his lip, and glanced at the scroll. His little finger moved over the names, hesitated on one, and then glanced up at her when he stopped at his name. “That’s me,” he declared. His voice was full of glee.
“That’s right. And this is your father.” Kestrel pointed to the name above him. “This was your grandfather, a great king.”
“He was. Ralag is your great uncle. And it goes from there, all the way back ten generations to the very first dragon who asked the gods to fall in love with a human woman.” Andrik glanced at her and the love reflected in his eyes warmed her heart, knowing that she could always find it there. They were bonded on a deep level as spellcaster and dragon and an even deeper one as mates.
“Who is this?”
Kestrel blinked and focused back on Dravik. She peered over his shoulder and saw where he was pointing. The name he indicated was the first son of the third dragon king. The name read Meruke.
“You picked an interesting ancestor to talk about. Ralag used to tell me stories about him growing up. Meruke was a great warrior. There was an uprising among the dragons and the humans who lived here in Blaze Mountain. He exterminated the fierce beasts that lived here before us. They tried to drive us underground and were killing our kind. He destroyed them and was crowned king.”
“What happened to him?” Kestrel was as intrigued as her son to hear the tale.
Dravik giggled when Andrik tapped him on the nose and began the tale. “It is said that—”
“...After his coronation one of these great creatures remained and made a pact with a powerful sorceress. Meruke went to investigate as a massive storm descended over the valley. It battered Blaze Mountain. Many warriors went with him to defeat the sorceress. A great battle ensued and the witch was killed and the evil creature was dead. When the storm cleared, Meruke had vanished.”
An older man had come into the library, hunched on a cane, but still spry for his advanced age. He hobbled across the room and slid into an open chair near them. Dravik slipped off the table and ran to the wizened man. Kestrel glanced at him and caught a flash of a white dragon, but Ralag was not a shifter. He was Andrik’s uncle but had not inherited the ability to shift. Nonetheless, he was still a power magician and Andrik’s advisor.
“Where did he go?” Dravik asked.
“Some say he was carried away by the four winds. Others say he gave his life so that the great beasts would not rise again and kill any more dragonkin. His mother never believed that he was slain,” Ralag said.
“His mother?” Andrik pulled out a seat so that Kestrel could sit. She slid into it, grateful to be off her feet.
Ralag nodded. “You went to see her, nephew, when you were trying to discern your relationship with Kestrel. It was to Orlana that you sought the advice and learned how to quiet your mind so that you could contact your past self.”
“She must be ancient,” Kestrel said, wondering how long the woman must have lived, because dragons could live thousands of years.
“Orlana is a rare one, and yes, she is very old. Old enough she remembers the first dragonkin, the first of our line passing over and being with the Great Dragon. You would know something of that, wouldn’t you, Kestrel?” A glint of amusement lit his grey eyes.
“What’s he talking about, Momma?” Dravik asked.
She smiled at him. “That’s a story for another time. Right now, hatchling, it’s time for bed.”
His mouth twisted into a scowl, but with a thought she summoned a small ball of dragon fire and threw it at him. It landed on his chest and he shivered. “Stop it. That stings.”
“That’s the point. Do as your mother says and head to bed.” Andrik hugged his son and lifted him off Ralag’s lap, taking him out of the library.
Ralag sat across from Kestrel and flashed her a small smile. At that moment he looked tired and worn. She leaned across the table and laid her hand on his. He brightened some. “Are you okay?”
“I’m getting old. I’ve been alive for a very long time. More and more I’m hearing the call of the Great Dragon. I have lived to see many things and have enjoyed the time with Dravik. He is the grandson I never had. He reminds me of Simeon when he was a child, although much kinder. I’ve seen miraculous things. You are one of them.”
Kestrel winced at hearing his son’s name. Simeon had once started a coup to overtake the spellcasters. He had sunk a poisoned dagger into her chest that killed her. Although she had been resurrected, it was still a subject she didn’t like to revisit. Without the events of that day, she never would have become what she was. They called her drakin, a warrior, the mother of a new race, the savior of the dragonkin. It had given her wings of flame if she called upon them and the ability to take on some physical dragon attributes. It had made her a more powerful spellcaster, but being the mother of a new race—she wasn’t sure about that. So far her children hadn’t shown any signs of being different. She couldn’t shift into a dragon and lay eggs. Whatever was different about her, she was still waiting for it to manifest. Then again, when she told Ralag about her insight into her children while they were still in the womb, he had said that wasn’t a usual gift. Andrik had never told her that she was unusual. It didn’t matter that she was queen and he was king, he always thought of her as the jewel in his crown.
She closed her eyes and thought about Ralag. “There is more time for you yet, old man, before you gain your wings and fly off.”
Kestrel’s will slipped a little. It seemed she was seeing something beyond herself. She was lifted up; carried away over stormy seas. Someone was in pain. She hissed in a breath, but she wasn’t the one in pain.
“What do you see?” Ralag’s voice anchored her even though she couldn’t see him.
Kestrel tried to focus, but it was difficult. Her limbs were cold. The wind howled around her like an angry harpy. She concentrated through the cold and listened past the howling gale. She was a long way from her body. Kestrel inhaled, and the heaviness of salt sat on her tongue. “The sea. It crashes against the rocks. The wind screams, but only one can understand what it says and he has nearly forgotten the words. So lonely and lost.”
“Where are you? What sea are you speaking about? One near the southern coast or the western? Those are the most formidable.”
She shook her head. “Not familiar shores or seas.” She held up her hand to block out the light. “It’s so bright. It burns.” Kestrel gritted her teeth as the wind battered her against the rocks. It blew her form into the cliffs, but it didn’t hurt. She tried to hold onto the vision, but between the wind and the light she lost her grip on it. She snapped back to herself. When she opened her eyes, Ralag stared at her with an inquisitive gaze. Her entire body ached. Kestrel checked her baby, and she didn’t seem affected at what had just happened. “What was that?”
“You had a sending, a vision. Something strong must have gotten your attention. Do you think you can find this place once more on a map?”
“It’s not within our boundaries. It’s somewhere else.” Kestrel thought about what she had seen and felt, the otherness about the world. Something was missing that she wasn’t able to put her finger on, but it made her feel empty.
“Do you know who it was pertaining to? You or Andrik?” Ralag asked. He had perked up some.
Kestrel pulled her hand from his and brushed it over the family tree. A sharp jolt went up her finger when it stopped.
It had landed on Meruke’s name.