The Price of a Dragon

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The device was a field radio, smaller than his palm, scavenged from the lining of his boot. Lucian had sewn it there himself, seven years ago, against exactly this kind of day. He carried it into the corner of the tower where the gold lay deepest, knelt among the coins, and pressed the call key with his heart in his mouth.

"Pick up," he whispered. "Come on."

Static. Static. And then, thin and unbelieving:

"Commander?"

"Hale."

"Commander, they said you were dead." Captain Ryland Hale had served under him for six years. He was a blunt, stubborn man with a farmer's hands, and his voice was breaking. "Thorne has seized full control of the territory. He has declared you a traitor. Half the garrison is under arrest. Sir, I can't talk long. We've discovered something."

"Tell me."

"He's moving a cache of heavy weapons out of the underground cryo-vault. Radiation readings are off the charts. The convoy is headed straight for the dragon border."

Lucian's blood ran cold. "How many?"

"A dozen crates. And one big one, sir. Wrapped. I've never seen anything like it."

"He means to start the war early," Lucian said slowly. "He plans to strike first and seize their dragon cores."

"That's what I think, sir."

"Stay out of sight. Keep your head down. I will call again."

He ended the call. He stayed where he was, his forehead pressed to the cold coins, for as long as he dared. Then he rose, and turned, and found the dragon watching him from the bed.

Kaelen was sitting up. The sheet had slipped to his hips. His eyes had gone entirely gold.

"Commander." Very softly. "Your heart is racing."

"It's nothing."

"Who were you thinking about behind my back?"

"Nobody." Lucian crossed the room. "Let go."

"Liar." Something warm and heavy slid around his ankle. He looked down. A long black tail, scaled and glossy, had coiled twice around his leg, and it was tightening. "Your pheromones reek of resistance and escape. You are leaving me."

"I wasn't thinking about anyone, you jealous..." Lucian dragged his foot. "Get your tail off me."

"Who did you contact?"

"Kaelen, stop it."

"Your former troops." The golden eyes narrowed. "Thorne's men are still hunting you. You were trying to run."

"I was not trying to *run!*"

"Then what?"

"My men told me Thorne is secretly moving high-radiation weapons," Lucian said, and the words came out in a rush. "He is going to start the war himself. He wants to wipe out your dragon core and every dragon in the Reach. I cannot stand by while he destroys everything my father built. I will not let both our peoples be slaughtered." He was breathing hard. "I was not trying to leave you. I was trying to find a way to stop him."

The tail went slack.

For a moment the prince only stared. Then he laughed, and put his hands over his face, and laughed again, shaken and half-delighted and half-ashamed. "I am sorry, my Commander," he said into his palms. "I am a fool. I have been alone a very long time. I forget how to share."

"You are a menace."

"Yes." He dropped his hands. All the mockery had gone from his face. "Whatever you want. Even if you want to tear the ground out from under the world. Stay at my side."

Lucian looked at him for a long moment. Then, without a word, he sat down on the bed and put his head against the dragon's shoulder.

---

It was Hale who called back, three hours later, with the other half of the story.

"We intercepted Thorne's highest-level secret transmission," the captain said, and his voice was not the voice of a man who was frightened but the voice of a man who had seen the face of something larger than fear. "He is completely insane, Commander. He is using the former Lord's data to build a doomsday weapon. It's designed to target dragon DNA. Seven days. In seven days Thorne will launch an extermination strike against the Reach."

"Seven days," Lucian said.

"And that is not all. He's going to announce that you conspired with the dragons to wipe out humanity. He is going to pin every crime on you, sir. He'll make you the enemy of both races."

Lucian ended the call. He sat very still. The prince, beside him, had heard every word.

"My father's research," Lucian said. "The Nexus Project. It was a clean-energy design. He told me about it when I was twenty. He said it would end the winters." His mouth twisted. "Thorne has turned it into a weapon."

"Then we stop him."

"We?"

"You will need an army, and I have one. You will need a way through the Ashfall passes, and I know them." Kaelen's face was unreadable. "But you are going to have to ask."

Lucian's jaw tightened. For the space of three breaths he did not move. Then he rose, turned to face the dragon, and bowed his head.

"Lend me your strength," he said. "I am going back. I am going to take Thorne's head myself, and stop this war."

Kaelen did not answer at once.

"Do you know," he said at last, "what it costs to ask a dragon for help?"

"Name it."

"I do not do charity, Commander." The prince stepped forward. A knuckle tilted Lucian's chin up. "My life and my body. From now on, both are yours. And yours, in return, are mine."

"That is not a bargain. That is a wedding vow."

"Then we are agreed."

Lucian opened his mouth to argue. And found, to his considerable alarm, that he did not want to.

---

The bath was in a grotto behind the tower, and it was the loveliest thing Lucian had ever seen.

Heated springs, drawn up through the mountain, filled a pool the size of a ballroom. Carved dragons coiled round its edges, their jeweled eyes catching the candlelight. Steam rose in thick white veils. When Kaelen slid into the water with a sigh of pure pleasure and held out a hand, Lucian hesitated only a heartbeat before following.

"You are very stiff for a man who has been so recently relaxed," Kaelen observed.

"I am recovering."

"I could help."

"I know. That is what worries me."

The prince laughed and moved behind him. Strong hands settled on his shoulders and began to knead the knots out of them. Lucian bit back a groan. Water lapped at his ribs. A mouth dropped to his ear and whispered, so softly that Lucian felt it more than heard it, "Commander. Your psychic threads are wrapped so tightly around me. Are you soothing me or seducing me?"

"I am doing neither. Concentrate."

"I am concentrating very hard."

"Kaelen..."

"Slow down, my Commander," the dragon murmured, and pulled him back against his chest, and the horns rose out of his curls with a faint metallic sound. "We have not even started."

The great doors of the grotto crashed open.

A chill ran through the steam. Standing in the archway, with a staff of black iron and a robe the color of dried blood, was an old man with a long white beard and eyes like drops of molten brass. Behind him stood twenty of the Conclave's guards. The old man's gaze fell on the two naked men in the water, and Lucian saw his lip curl in unmistakable disgust.

"Your Highness," said the High Elder. "I see that the human has bewitched you."

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