Verdant Magic: A Standalone Dragon Shifter Adventure (Dragon Mage Chronicles Book 1) Page 2

  You can’t leave now.

  Amber squeezed her eyes shut, trying to look small, defenseless, and tasty to the beast above her head. Not that she possessed a deep-seated hankering to be eaten by a dragon. But if the golden flier retreated after sighting Amber’s brilliant emerald glow, then the secrecy shielding her fellow earth witches would dissipate in an instant. Families would be forced to scatter, packing light and starting over somewhere else as autumn approached and children went hungry.

  And that was just the best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario, the dragon would round her neighbors up and drag them back to his lair after burning the most dangerous witches alive.

  Not happening. No, it was Amber’s job as the strongest witch—the Watcher—to protect her village. And protect it she would.

  “I’m here, you big brute. Do you need to get your eyes checked?”

  This time, she called out loudly enough that the beast should have been able to hear. But he appeared unmoved by the challenge. In fact, she thought for a moment that he might cede defeat before she struck her first blow.

  Rather than letting the enemy leave, though, Amber sucked up the earth’s energy with all of her might. Power buzzed against her insides, suffusing her thoughts with a heady feeling of endless possibilities. The Green whispered secrets into her ears and her already expansive awareness of the surrounding landscape was magnified yet further until she nearly lost herself in the melding of minds.

  Then, releasing everything she’d hoarded in an instant, she pushed magic out through her pores. Now, even Amber could see the emerald glow emanating from her skin. Surely the dragon wouldn’t be able to resist such a tantalizing morsel?

  And, at long last, her enemy made up his mind. Pulling his wings in close to his body like a stooping falcon, the dragon plummeted down for the kill.

  ***

  “Gotcha.”

  Amber reveled in her success for one short second. Then, clenching one hand into a fist, she wrenched a handful of earth out of its mother’s skin. Finally, turning upwards like a released spring, she flung both magic and mineral particles into the swirling eddies of air above her head.

  Immediately, the Green struck. Trees that had been waiting patiently now lashed out with wild abandon even as vines grew fifty feet in an instant. Kudzu was always the easiest to mold to her will, so Amber focused on the legume, flinging a network of verdant growth over the dragon’s broad shoulders before winding restraining stems around the base of his massive wings.

  “Grab and hold,” she muttered through clenched teeth, smiling grimly as the vines obeyed.

  Of course, there was a price. There was always a price. Toes that still connected her to the earth began to throb as blood oozed out to feed the trees. Pinpricks turned into screaming nerve endings as the fungi ripped and tore against frail flesh.

  That was the fate of an earth witch—she promised to repay in blood whatever energy the Green expended on her behalf. But the result was well worth both pain and loss of blood. Because the dragon roared, his flame no match for thousands of plants able to grow and harden in an instant. Sap and smoke filled the air as her enemy thrashed against his bonds, then Amber heard a snap as one wing turned awry.

  Her attacker wouldn’t be flying anywhere anytime soon.

  “Now what do I do with you?” the earth witch mused. She coughed against smoke, rubbing her chest where a strange ache of heat had flared up inches away from her heart. The dragon wielded fire as capably as she charmed the earth. It would only be a matter of moments before he found a way to break free of his living restraints.

  As if in answer to a question she’d considered rhetorical, a shiny speck of silver worked its way loose from the dragon’s armored hide. The object flickered as it fell, bouncing off branches and crashing through leaves, heading for the dark heart of the forest where even Amber didn’t dare to tread.

  Then, at the last moment, a kudzu vine reached out unbidden to flick the silver away from its original trajectory and directly toward the earth witch’s peering eyes. Cringing, Amber realized that the fast-approaching object wasn’t a scale as she’d originally assumed. Instead, it was an enchanted collar, a device designed to squash magic and turn even the strongest witch into a malleable slave.

  So the dragon came prepared. Amber shivered, unsure which fate was worse—being cremated alive like her parents had been, or forced to lose the connection to the earth that filled her life with joy. Not a choice I’d ever wish to make.

  But she needed to make a different choice pretty darn quickly, because the golden dragon wasn’t willing to give up so easily. For the second time, the beast trumpeted his anger and disdain at the Green. Then, driven to his only remaining weapon by the implacability of the vines, her enemy closed his eyes and shifted.

  Smoke encircled his body in an immaterial cocoon, shielding his transition from prying eyes. Then, as wisps of fresh air drove back the remnants of inner fire, a much smaller form gradually emerged. Where once a tremendous reptilian beast had hung suspended twenty feet above the ground, now there dangled a much muscled and strikingly handsome man.

  At first, he burned translucent with the heat of inner fire, the element that had given him the ability to shift and fly abruptly turning visible as he hovered betwixt and between. Then flames were consumed by flesh and the invader was only human, scratched and torn, one arm dangling crookedly against his side. “What are you?” he asked, the words a rasp of pained breath whispering out from between straight white teeth.

  “Lower him gently, but keep him bound,” Amber ordered the Green, ignoring both her prisoner’s words and the fact that her heart was beating faster with every passing second. She’d lost too much blood to duke it out a second time with this captured dragon. Soon she’d faint and the earth would stop doing her bidding. Before that, she had to deal with her uninvited guest.

  “Release me and I’ll repay you with gold beyond your wildest dreams,” the dragon shifter promised, his words abruptly honey sweet. Far from the child-like confusion of his earlier speech, this request was smooth and tantalizing. The insidious attraction of greed percolated into Amber’s senses in an instant and she was consumed by the wish to fall onto a bed of coins and coil up amid shimmering loot.

  The trick just might have worked on a lesser witch...or on one who actually had any interest in gold. But Amber merely scowled up at the man who was now dangling six inches above her trampled brussels sprouts. What she wanted, this dragon couldn’t provide.

  Instead, confident that the vines would continue to bind their shared enemy even if she momentarily severed her connection with their fungal partners, Amber took one short step and knelt to pick the circlet up off the ground.

  The ring felt slimy in her hands and reeked of rotten cabbages. It was also far heavier than it appeared. As a result, she had to force herself not to drop the thing like a hot potato.

  “You won’t be able to use that,” the dragon shifter informed her before pausing to blow a pesky curl away from his chiseled face. Without the assistance of unbound fingers, though, the gleaming filaments fell right back down to burn golden against his tanned skin. “It’s keyed to me,” he added confidently.

  For an instant, Amber almost believed him. But then her fingers found the latch on one side that allowed her to unfold the device into two slick semi-circles. The collar wasn’t keyed to anyone. The question was—if she closed the loop back up around the dragon’s arrogant neck, would the enchantment break the flow of fire magic that allowed her enemy to change forms? And, once on, would either she or the dragon shifter be able to release the spell?

  Beside her, Thea leaped up onto hind legs to examine the collar that her mistress found so intriguing. After nosing the ring for several seconds, though, the goat dropped back onto all fours in disgust. Not food, the animal’s posture read as she bent down to complete the demise of the battered crucifers.

  Usually, Amber would have bade her companion to mind her manners, to leave h
uman nourishment for humans. But, now, she had more important fish to fry. Stepping forward, she reached up to press the circlet against the shifter’s broad neck.

  Her opponent’s Adam’s apple throbbed as he tried and failed to wrench himself away. Well, that answers that, Amber thought. He wouldn’t be so intent upon fleeing if the collar didn’t work on his kind.

  Then breath caught as fingers brushed up against bare skin. Against her wishes, eyes rose to lock onto the man’s brilliantly sky-colored orbs. His lips parted, kissably close....

  And then the collar clicked shut. “No!” her prisoner roared, sounding more like a dragon now than like a human being.

  Amber would have been smug if she hadn’t been so exhausted. “Hold,” she whispered to obedient vines before sinking down onto her knees and tunneling tired limbs into the welcoming earth. The dragon was captured. Now she could finally rest.

  Chapter 3

  “What are you?” Zane repeated, peering down at the woman who lay in a heap at his feet.

  She was strangely appealing despite the emerald glow that must have emanated straight from the Green. The unexpected light had thrown him off his game fifteen minutes earlier and set him hovering over a different sort of prey than the twin he’d spent the last six months tracking. Then after the color had captured his attention, its lackeys had captured him.

  No, he definitely shouldn’t find the emerald halo both enticing and intriguing.

  “An earth witch,” he murmured now, watching the way a fern bent to shield the woman’s face from the overpowering glare of the afternoon sun. Other than a fire mage who had stumbled into the Aerie last winter and rescued one of his foster brothers from the Fade, Zane had never seen a witch up close and personal. And until today, he hadn’t imagined this particular type of elemental even existed.

  Because ever since dragons and the Green had popped into existence during the same moment twenty-nine years earlier, the latter had been intent upon opposing all forms of two-legged life. So how was it possible for magic to flow between this woman and the sentient plants that had turned modern civilization on its head?

  “Doesn’t really matter, now does it?” he muttered grimly, pushing gently against the encircling vines and feeling them squeeze back not nearly so gently by way of reply. “Plants don’t like dragons and dragons don’t like plants. It’s time to get out of this mess before sleeping beauty wakes up.”

  Easier said than done, though, when teeth-grinding pain throbbed through his broken arm with each beat of an over-active heart. Meanwhile, that dratted collar not only sapped his strength, it also eliminated his ability to heal both major and minor contusions that peppered his tender human skin.

  On the other hand...he still possessed brute force and the endless patience of a born hunter.

  Starting with the latter, Zane slowly tested each rope of wood and fiber that made up his prison, seeking weaknesses that might allow him to wiggle free. The most obvious jailer was a rough-barked grapevine that looped underneath his arm and held him suspended eighteen inches above the forest floor. That ringleader didn’t have an ounce of give to it. In fact, the plant’s malevolence squeezed tighter with every moment that passed.

  Similarly, the spicy aroma of crushed walnut leaves pressed against Zane’s face with the clear intent to smother. A blink of his eye prompted the tree’s limbs to sidle in even closer and he had to force back a sneeze as the repellent odor nearly overwhelmed him with its noxious presence.

  Kudzu draping across broad shoulders was less alert, but Zane knew from hard-won experience that the leguminous vine grew so quickly he’d never manage to pull the wool over its eyes. Honeysuckle, on the other hand....

  Two summers ago, Zane had fallen asleep on a sunny balcony and woken to find a veil of honeysuckle clambering over his ankles, circling around his knees, and trailing across his chest. At first, he’d panicked, attempting to wrench himself loose through brute force alone. But the slender stems were remarkably strong, dozens of strands adding up to one seemingly impenetrable net.

  Still, when he’d ceased struggling and had instead relaxed into the moment, the honeysuckle bloomed. Tiny buds running up and down the flexible stems had lengthened then opened into sweet-scented flowers. And when Zane tickled the base of one blossom with a tentative finger, the vine had vibrated with pleasure and curled gently around the offered thumb by way of reply.

  The being was curious, he’d realized then. Not angry like the rest of the Green. Not intent upon reclaiming all of the ground lost in the Before.

  In fact, that particular honeysuckle vine had reminded him of his foster mother. And when he’d used Sarah’s much-valued good manners to politely ask the plant to release him from its hold, the honeysuckle had willingly obeyed.

  “Always give thanks where thanks are due,” Sarah liked to tell her boys. So Zane hadn’t wasted time rewarding the vine either. That same evening, he’d returned to the newly closed-off level with a hummingbird feeder clenched in one massive claw, a tribute to the gentle creeper and a truce with the Green.

  Now, he hoped the honeysuckle vine twisting around his uninjured arm would be equally receptive to his advances. Gently, slowly, he stroked the crisp green leaves with a forefinger and was rewarded by a minute relaxation of the formerly iron grip. In fact, the plant soon gave him enough leeway that he was able to tease his entire arm free, tucking the vine into his belt as he worked so it wouldn’t tumble unsupported back to the forest floor.

  Not that he wanted to assist any of his jailers. But Zane had a feeling that one wrong move would waken the entire plant army, prompting them to forget the earth witch’s orders and choose instead to eat him alive.

  “A little less melodrama and a little more work.” That was one of Sarah’s favorite sayings as well. But this time around Zane found himself stumbling over the familiar words. His tongue felt strangely thick, as if it had been days rather than hours since last he’d last swooped down upon a stream to drink. Meanwhile, the plant life in front of his eyes began to meld into one blob of pulsating green.

  No dragon worth his salt would grow fuzzy-headed and weak from a few days’ flight combined with a broken arm. No, the truth was obvious, if unpalatable. Zane’s current ailments were the work of the magic-sucking collar he’d meant to use upon his twin.

  Which meant that it was time to go on the offensive and break free of the restraint. Good thing the shifter finally had a free hand with which to work.

  Moving slowly so as not to wake the more malevolent plant life that still clung to his dangling form, Zane brushed careful fingers across the ice-cold metal that encircled his throat. The device sucked at his fire with each touch, his fingers fumbling as he sought the catch. He had to force himself to keep working through the pain.

  There! At last, Zane’s thumb discovered the raised nub of metal that kept the circlet in place. Intently, he pressed with all his might, hoping for the snap of freedom that he knew wouldn’t come.

  The truth was, he’d lied through his teeth about the collar being keyed to him...but it was keyed to fire, which was pretty much the same thing. Or used to be.

  Given all dragons’ affinity to combustion, it had been a gamble to consider using the device on his brother. Still, Zane had hoped his feral twin would lack the foresight to cling onto a handful of smoldering coals as the collar clamped down, then to use that same trickle of magic to break his way free of the prison that severed all magical ties to the outside world.

  Zane, on the other hand, had known what was coming. So he’d clutched his inner fire close as the shackle clicked shut. And now he teased loose a lone filament of the reserve waiting beneath his skin, knowing as he did so that taking too much would send him spiraling down into the same unwilling slumber that now cloaked the earth witch at his feet.

  “Easy does it,” he murmured, rekindling internal flames with an effort. Around him, vines rustled restlessly, bindings momentarily tightening against skin that already chaffed and ached
.

  His jailers’ awareness didn’t matter, though. Because once Zane was back in control of his fire, he’d be able to break free of the Green in a heartbeat. It was only the earth witch’s attention that had given the various trees and vines sufficient team cohesion to hold him in the first place.

  His once-cold thumb now burned with the force of dammed up flames, but Zane neither flinched nor released the flow as he waited for the banked coals to build into a conflagration. There would be only one chance at escape before the kudzu decided he was a danger and tied his loose arm back against his side. It was all or nothing, so Zane ignored the feverish heat until he knew he’d coaxed enough power back into his body to send the collar splintering apart.

  Then, at long last, he relinquished his hard-won control and allowed the spark to fly. It arced through the air, sliding around the necklet and sipping at the device’s confining enchantment...only to fall flat as the power of the artifact exceeded his own.

  The collar had been built to restrain, and restrain it would. No way could a simple fire elemental break free of his own trap.

  And before he could try again, the Green woke with a vengeance. Vines that had merely been restraining previously now slid and spun against his chest, questing upwards toward the exposed skin of his face. A tendril tickled its way into one nostril as a sandpapery grapevine harshly joined the collar to encircle his neck. Unlike the silver necklet, though, the grape saw no reason not to squeeze.

  A nearby rosebush joined in the action, twisting and twining until it had sought out the bare skin between boots and trousers. Shoots that had been soft and tender moments earlier hardened in an instant, thorns bursting free to scrape against tender flesh.