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Ava sensed something strange was happening with Liadan, but knowing that the grim and stoic knight would eventually come around in her own time, Ava decided to say nothing of it, instead turning her attention to the fascinating tomb they had only just entered. There were colorful paintings on the walls, though most of them showed mundane, everyday events: Queen Saraid brushing her long yellow hair, Queen Saraid waving to crowds during a parade, Queen Saraid drinking wine on a pleasure barge with her lover, a burly female knight known as Brianag the Black. It wasn’t until they had been walking down the tunnel for some time that Ava noticed a panel that was actually interesting.
“Look!” Ava cried in excitement and halted in her tracks.
Liadan and the others halted as well and followed Ava’s gaze: the hieroglyphs and paintings behind Liadan’s head told the story of Queen Saraid’s greatest battle, the Battle of Black Tears . . .. which she’d fought against Endoreth during an invasion of Illa. The battle had been referred to for centuries as “the Black Tears incident” because Queen Saraid had used the fire of a dragon to decimate King Azmon’s armies. She was successful, but only for so long. King Azmon was long-lived due to an ancient spell that had been lost to women long before, and once Queen Saraid, the protector of the seven realms, and her great dragon were dead and gone, King Azmon made his move, invading the seven realms and finally conquering them, securing the rulership of men. And just like that, because a man had learned to use magick, the age of woman had ended.
Ava stared up at the image of Queen Saraid, who stood powerful in her golden battle armor, her golden hair streaming in the wind, her sword lifted, and she thought her ancestor would be ashamed of her. Instead of fighting for her realm, Ava was running. Instead of caring for her people, Ava was leaving them behind to be invaded and ruled by King Bjorn! She was a spoiled, lazy princess who didn’t even know how to wield politics as a weapon, let alone a sword. Queen Saraid would have despised her.
As if she sensed what was going through Ava’s mind, Liadan frowned sadly and placed a comforting hand on Ava’s shoulder. Liadan had been guessing Ava’s thoughts and feelings quite accurately lately, and a part of her hated it. She was weak and pathetic and Liadan pitied her. How she hated that Liadan knew of her internal struggle, and yet, how she marveled that Liadan knew. Something powerful was brewing between them, though Ava could not understand what.
“But what does it mean?” wondered Lysa bitterly, for she had never really learned all of her runes. In fact, she was the only one in their group who was undereducated, which was why Ava wasn’t angry with Lysa for dismissing her earlier: Lysa had only dismissed Ava’s romance novels because she was jealous that she herself couldn’t fully read.
“It’s a story,” Ava answered, “of how Queen Saraid fought back Endoreth during King Azmon’s invasion . . . It’s a sign from the goddess that my running is cowardly. Queen Saraid would disown me to see what selfish thing I have done.”
“Don’t say that,” said Liadan, frowning. “There is nothing wrong with living for yourself and not wishing to rule—”
“I have a duty, an obligation to my people! If I won’t defend them, who will?” Ava said over Liadan, more loudly than she intended. “My father? He can’t even find his dick to make new heirs!” Catching her breath – and shocked by her own angry words—Ava marched on, not looking back to see if the others followed.
When they came at last to the chamber where Queen Saraid’s coffin stood, the room was much larger than Ava could have anticipated, even from having read about it in her romance novels. It was a circular room, with golden floors and walls, still glittering from having been air-sealed for thousands of years. Queen Saraid’s golden coffin stood in the center of the room on a dais, and all around it lay offerings and gifts: piles of gold, displayed weapons, golden bowls of sparkling jewels, and stands with the dead queen’s beautifully engraved golden armor.
At the foot of the queen’s coffin were two more coffins, gold but not as grand as Queen Saraid’s. One Ava recognized as belonging to Brianag the Black, for the knight’s house sigil – the crow – was upon it. The second coffin was much smaller than the other two, as if a shorter person lay inside, and after reading the runes on the lid, Ava knew it belonged to Saraid’s handmaiden . . . and most trusted friend.
Ava looked around at Lysa, who was standing nearby with Ethne, looking pale and frightened as she glanced around the chamber. If Ava had been queen, Lysa would have been buried with her in a grand tomb like this, surrounded by piles of gold and gifts, with paintings on the walls depicting what their everyday lives had been like.
On the other side of the chamber, just as Ava had predicted, there was a tunnel leading to another exit. Ava found that pleasing but also curious. Why would an exit tunnel have been placed in a tomb? She was half-tempted to open Saraid’s coffin and see if the queen was really inside.
“We’ve been riding for hours,” said Ethne, tiredly dropping her saddle bags to the floor. “What do you say we rest here for a while, Li? Then we can pick up and keep going toward Hastow.”
“Not toward Hastow,” said Liadan sternly. “Luane would just follow us, and then the people there would come to danger. Her magick is chaotic and she cares not for how many innocents are slain as she passes.”
“Where then shall we go?” said Lysa, impatiently folding her arms. “Shall we just wander the wilderness, waiting for Luane to catch up with us?”
Ava noticed Liadan tighten with irritation. The Knight of the Wild whirled and said in a level voice, “Let us pretend that Lysa is in charge. Let us pretend for one day and one night. All that we do and wherever we shall go is henceforth in Lysa’s hands.” She stared down at Lysa for a long time, and Lysa slowly turned pink.
Ethne scowled and placed a protective arm around Lysa. “Liadan! What the hell’s the matter with you?”
Determined not to be bothered, Lysa lifted her chin and casually shrugged Ethne’s arm off. “I shall hold you to your word then, knight,” she said haughtily to Liadan. “We shall stay here for two hour’s rest. Liadan, you shall open the door at the end of the escape tunnel to let in some air. Then you shall take first watch as the rest of us take our rest—”
“And afterwards?” prompted Liadan, who seemed amused by Lysa’s haughty confidence.
Lysa hesitated. “A-Afterward we will continue south, to the river.”
Ava had been studying the hieroglyphs and paintings on the chamber walls, but she turned to face Lysa, intrigued. “You mean to approach Godga. The river witch,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
Lysa smiled.
Ava was more than intrigued now. Back when Lysa had first encouraged her to run away, she had thought often of running far south, past the eastern wood, to the river, where old Godga guarded the bridge to Wildoras. The river was enchanted and could not be crossed through any normal means. Only the women of Wildoras could cross without trouble. Others had to make an exchange with the witch. Not many had attempted it, for not only was the price often quite steep, but the women of Wildoras were not welcoming of outsiders and were so terrifying in their magick might that even a bounty hunter or a greedy mercenary like Luane would never dare venture in.
Ava knew that even if they couldn’t barter passage, they could always lie there in wait at the bridge, allow Luane to approach and trick her into a battle with the Magi Godga. Godga was one of the most powerful magi in the seven realms: the Dragon of Almara would not stand a chance. Ava knew this was Lysa’s intention, and they traded smiles.
“Godga?” said Ethne, her face twisting. “The river hag? She’s dangerous! Liadan, you can’t allow this!” She looked to Liadan in amazement.
Ava looked to Liadan as well, but far from being concerned or afraid, the Knight of the Wild seemed to approve of Lysa’s plan. She was staring down at Lysa and smiling steadily. “It shall be as you say, little Lysa,” she said . . . with a husky sort of flirtatiousness that made Lysa color up.
And indeed, remembering the night Liadan had made love to them both, Ava held down a blush.
With their plans laid out, they set about getting ready to rest. Ethne rolled out the bedroll she would share with Lysa, and Ava could hear the two of them bickering back and forth about the Godga. Ethne didn’t trust what she referred to as “wild magi” (the hypocrisy, Ava thought, since Ethne was friends with a magi) while Lysa insisted that the Godga was their only chance of survival, the risk of it be damned. Even after they were snuggling in the bedroll together, they continued their argument, their voices growing softer as they fell asleep against each other.
Ava was exhausted and wanted to roll out Liadan’s bedroll for herself, but she also wanted to continue studying the hieroglyphs in the chamber. They would be leaving very soon, and she wanted to see and memorize as much of it as she could. It was one thing to learn about Queen Saraid in a history lesson. It was another thing entirely to actually see her tomb and ancient depictions of her life!
A few minutes had passed when Ava heard Liadan return from having opened the door at the end of the back tunnel. The knight’s armor jingled softly and her boots thumped as she drew near Ava. The smell of steel, leather, and musky sweat preceded her, as it always did.
“You shall not believe what I have seen at the end of the back tunnel,” Liadan said breathlessly.
Ava glanced over her shoulder at Liadan and halted in surprise: the Knight of the Wild looked as if she had seen a ghost. She was pale and breathless, pink-cheeked, and her red hair was tousled as if she’d run. She gulped for air as Ava stared at her in concern. To Ava’s relief, Liadan smiled.
“Worry not,” Liadan said. “It is nothing frightening or terrible. I think my princess shall be quite intrigued, in fact.”
“So you found more hieroglyphs?” asked Ava, feeling the excitement bubbling.
Liadan only smiled again. “This is better than hieroglyphs. I think you shall be quite amazed.”
Frustrated, Ava turned away and examined the images on the walls again. “You are cruel to withhold it, whatever it is,” she said with a laugh.
“Cruel, my princess? No. Rather, I enjoy seeing you beg,” said Liadan behind her.
Ava laughed again, blushing a little as the meaning behind Liadan’s words slowly occurred to her. She felt Liadan’s large hand squeeze her shoulder and knew without turning that the knight was aroused. She was correct: Liadan breathed hard and massaged Ava’s shoulder, and her hand was slightly trembling with the need. She pushed aside Ava’s long golden hair and kissed her neck.
Ava moaned and bit her lip. “Here? Now?”
“My princess . . .” Liadan whispered. “The sight of your sweet face and your great breasts . . . it is driving me wild. Wilder than I ever . . .”
Ava’s heart fluttered, delighted by Liadan’s hungry words. She looked over her shoulder and went still in surprise to see how Liadan’s blue eyes suffered as they gazed down at her. “What is it?” she cried in alarm.
“Shh,” Liadan begged, glancing anxiously toward the place where Ethne and Lysa slept in their bedroll. She glanced down and miserably held out her hands, so that they were before Ava.
Ava looked down. Liadan’s fingertips were glowing – all ten of them. Liadan had removed her gauntlets and was holding her fingers spread so that Ava could see. The light was glowing from within, making Liadan’s fingerprints and veins stand out and giving her skin the illusion of being transparent. Ava hesitated and cupped Liadan’s hands in her own. She gasped. They were pleasantly hot, and when she closed her fingers over them, a delicious tingle went through her. She felt her sex swell and blushed bright.
“What’s h-happening?” Ava stammered, breathless and flushed with arousal. “It feels amazing!”
Liadan laughed sadly. “When a woman of Wildoras finds a compatible mate,” she explained, “her body . . . begins the breeding process.”
Ava quickly looked up and nearly laughed: Liadan was blushing faintly and looked agonizingly embarrassed.
“My body is reacting to you,” Liadan answered. “It is a bit akin to when a man has stiffened yet finds no release. My fingers glow, wanting to release my seed inside you, but to do so now, in the middle of all this chaos . . .”
Ava tried yet again not to laugh: Liadan was trapped in perpetual arousal. . . . because she loved Ava.
“Are you saying your body wants you to . . . impregnate me?” Ava asked in wonder. “And it will happen through your fingertips?”
“That is how it is done,” Liadan admitted heavily. “I have only told you so that you shall understand why I must . . . refrain from touching you. I didn’t mean to kiss you just now, but you were standing there, so soft and beautiful . . . And I . . . Ava!” Liadan gasped, for Ava had taken Liadan’s hand and placed it over her sex, on top of her skirts.
“Ava,” Liadan begged in a whisper. “We mustn’t! If you were to become with child—”
“Make love to me, Liadan,” Ava commanded, regally lifting her chin and crushing her soft golden hair under Liadan’s nose. She knew the sweet, flowery smell would drive the knight wild, and she was correct: in a sudden frenzy, Liadan ripped open Ava’s gown. Ava’s back arched and she gasped as her great breasts trembled free, and as Liadan cupped one of her breasts and groped it hard, she yanked up Ava’s skirt and crammed her other hand down the front of Ava’s panties.
Ava arched her back against Liadan, frowning through the pleasure as she was fingered hard and groped, as the knight buried frantic kisses on her neck and the naked flesh of her shoulder. In a daze of pleasure, she reached back and cupped Liadan’s face with one small hand. Liadan continued fingering Ava – so aggressively that Ava’s hips were jerking in rhythm and her breasts were trembling. There was a moment when the Knight of the Wild gazed down at her, watched her breasts tremble and her cheeks blush with narrowed blue eyes, then she kissed Ava roughly on the mouth, thrusting her tongue against Ava’s in a passionate kiss.
Ava could feel the moisture sliding down her thighs, and as Liadan made savage love to her, she moaned through their kiss and trembled, climaxing with a helpless, muffled cry.
***
AVA DIDN’T UNDERSTAND why Liadan was so afraid of impregnating her. Ava had already decided that she meant to return to Caradin and rule Illa, and if she already had a daughter as her heir, all the better. In the time of the elves, before the curse of the gods was placed on Wildoras, it was the women who had ruled each of the seven realms, and they were not known as “kingdoms” then, for there had been no kings. It wasn’t until after the fall of Wildoras (and the fall of women) that the first king was crowned – King Azmon of Realm Hallivere, often hailed as the first and only male magi to have ever existed.
Queen Saraid had lived during the ancient times, when women had ruled the land and only their daughters were their heirs. Seeing the hieroglyphics in the dead queen’s tomb had lit in a fire in Ava. After the way her father had treated her – joking about her being forced to lay with Prince Cassian!—after all she had suffered for the sake of an arranged marriage, and after the destruction caused by King Bjorn’s ridiculous conquest, she knew now that the gods had made a mistake in casting down women and uplifting men. Lysa was right: men caused nothing but destruction and suffering for others. They were no more fit to rule than small, temperamental children as far as she was concerned. But she was no longer going to flee from it. She was going to do something about it.
Ava knew it would have been easier if she, like Queen Saraid, had access to trained dragons. But all the most powerful dragons were dead and gone. The dragons that existed today were small, couldn’t even speak, and were devolved, base, animal-like creatures who knew only breeding and mating. Attempting to tame one was suicide, but because these wild dragons were still a danger to the world at large, entire academies of knights had been trained to hunt and slay them. Dragon blood, teeth, and scales were also quite rare and expensive, and so, just slaying one dragon could make the poorest knight quite wealthy. Rowan hadn’t been wrong about that much.
After taking turns resting in the ancient tomb, Ava, Liadan, Ethne, and Lysa packed up their bedrolls and set out yet again, walking down the exit tunnel, guided by the golden wisp that hovered over Liadan’s shoulder. Ava stared often at the wisp, thinking she would have many strong daughters brimming with magic might, who would rule this land and take it back for women. No longer would women be bartered and exchanged like chattel in arranged marriages! No longer would women be the possessions of their fathers and husbands! A new day was dawning, and it was dawning in Ava’s womb.
Though Liadan’s seed had filled her only hours before, Ava’s womb had been burning hot ever since, as if something were roasting away inside her. She couldn’t fathom what was happening, but she had to suppose it was the result of a magickal pregnancy. She had not, after all, become pregnant by normal means. She had become pregnant by a woman, through some sort of spell Liadan’s fingers had cast, and now she could feel something growing rapidly inside her. Perhaps several somethings.
They had been walking for what felt like half an hour when the escape tunnel suddenly opened upon another cavern. This cavern was sheeted in gold as Queen Saraid’s had been, but there was water damage, and roots were dangling from the ceiling in a spidery web. If not for Liadan’s golden light, it would have been completely dark. At the far side of the cavern, moonlight spilled cold through an open doorway, the stone door of which had been rolled aside by Liadan to let in air, but there was something there, in the center of the cavern, something the moonlight only barely touched.
“This way,” said Liadan, who sounded in awe. “We shall have to walk around it.”
“Walk around what?” said Lysa somewhere behind Ava.
Ava saw Liadan smile. Then the barbarian knight gestured at the hovering wisplight, causing it to expand and grow brighter. As the golden light spread slowly, filling the dark room, Ava gasped at what she saw: there, enormous as a mountain, grinned the ancient skull of a dragon.
“Goddess!” Lysa gasped, pointing. “Ava, look! A dragon egg!”
Ava looked where Lysa had pointed, and sure enough, there was a dragon egg beside the great dragon skull. It was displayed neatly in a golden bowl on a low table, glittering and green. The egg was about the size of a newborn baby. It lay on a pile of gold coins like a jewel.
“Gods be good!” swore Ethne, drawing near.
Ava looked up at Liadan in amazement.
“I told you it would intrigue thee,” said Liadan, pleased.
“You should take it,” said Ethne.
Ava scowled. “If you think I’m going to sell it –! Not that it wouldn’t bring in a great deal of coin,” she admitted grudgingly.
“Sell it? No, no,” said Ethne, waving a hand. “They say a dragon egg can stay dormant for a thousand years! And if you put it in the fire, it will still hatch! You should take it so you can hatch it and raise it up!”
Ava felt her heart quickening at the thought. Her eyes grew almost feverish as she stared down at the egg on its pile of gold.
“Ethne has a point,” said Lysa, who was hushed and amazed as she stared at the egg. “You were going on about taking back Illa for your bloodline. A dragon is the surest way. It’s not like you have an army.”
Ava leaned down, and very carefully, she wrapped the egg in her fur cloak, as if she was bundling a baby in her arms. When she stood again, she felt heat in her cheeks and arms, and she realized it was radiating from the egg. Hold it was like sitting near a blazing fire. It was . . .wonderful.
“It feels alive,” Ava said in amazement. “There’s a living dragon in here!”
“We should take the gold in that bowl, too,” said Ethne thoughtfully.
Ava glared at the Sparrow Knight.
Ethne shrugged. “Look . . . We don’t know how much longer we’re going to be on the road,” she said. “We may need that coin for a tavern. Unless you like sleeping in the mud and snow,” she added pointedly.
“Fine,” said Ava grudgingly and gestured at the ornate bowl.
Lysa stepped forward and helped Ethne empty the pile of gold coins into her saddle bags. It looked like just enough coins for several stays at a tavern, and if she had to admit it, Ava was pleased, for she did indeed despise sleeping in the cold and filth.
Ava looked around and noticed Liadan was frowning. “What is it, my knight?” the princess asked.
Liadan hesitated. “It’s just that . . . A dragon wouldn’t be allowed in Wildoras. My people despise them, for they are destructive and wild, wreaking havoc on our camps and eating our livestock. We shall have to find some other place to hide until the time when we can take back Illa, my princess.”
Ava frowned. She hadn’t known that. She gazed apologetically at Liadan, knowing that the knight had been looking forward to seeing her homeland again, but Liadan gave Ava a reassuring smile.
“I told you about the egg because I want you to succeed. I could have easily hidden its existence,” said Liadan. “My duty is to love you and aid you. If it means I cannot return to Wildoras, then so be it. Helping you retake Illa is more important. Your happiness is more important.”
Ava wanted to protest, but Liadan turned away, gesturing for her hovering light-wisp to follow her.
“Let us move along then,” said the Knight of the Wild. From the corner of her eye, she was watching Ava and seemed pleased that she was pleased: Ava could not stop smiling. And why should she? By stumbling across this egg in her ancestor’s tomb, she had discovered the key to retaking her throne.