Mentored in Fire (Demon Days & Vampire Nights)

Lucifer didn’t comment, and I didn’t wait for him to. I was a little surprised myself, actually, though I wouldn’t allow myself to dwell. I’d just chopped through his magic like I usually chopped through that of mages. Without thinking, I’d learned to counteract him. Was it the godly magic infusing me? Or could he do the same with me and hadn’t mentioned it?

“Stop sulking. You want this,” I told Cahal as I marched toward the open gate.

He followed me like a shadow. “It is not up to you to determine what I do and do not want.”

“No, it isn’t. Which is why I relied on what you said about dragons. Remember when you were whining about wanting to see them? I remember. Which is why you are here. You’re welcome.”

“This is extremely dangerous.”

“Yes. All of this is extremely dangerous, and you must be up for it because you followed my unconscious ass down into the Underworld. Seriously, stop sulking. I don’t want to have to fight on your behalf.”

“You’re going to have to. I don’t have a sword.”

I hesitated as I crested the territory and glanced back. Dang. He was right—I’d forgotten about his sword.

“It’s fine.” I started walking again. “You’ll improvise.”

“You sound just like your father.”

That was supposed to be a dig. Given I liked my old man—what I knew of him, anyway—I ignored it. So did Lucifer, who was trailing us.

I’d always figured dragons would live in caves under buildings, the way they did in Brink stories, and sleep on piles of gold or hoarded treasure. And I supposed that was partially true here, since this place was an enormous cave. But Lucifer had done up the illusion to make it seem like there was nothing but limitless sky.

The fence stretched into the distance on both sides, and I couldn’t see the back of it. Vast tracks of green lands spread out in front of me with rolling hills, tended bushes, and various tufts of brightly colored flowers. A soft orange sky held a few puffy white clouds, the faux-sun shedding warm lighting.

To my distant right, a shedlike structure held a sleeping beast, curled up in the soft grasses, its nose sending up tendrils of smoke. Nearer to us, on the left, a dragon lay in a ramshackle barn. Regardless of their shantylike dwellings, these dragons were magnificent, their scales glittering, their wings tucked in, and their great heads nestled against their bodies.

“These have the weaker…handlers, then?” I asked, continuing on.

“You don’t handle a dragon,” Cahal whispered. “You are a team with them. You are their ally.”

“These have the weaker allies, then?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said, not stepping to my side as he would usually do. He wanted me to meet this head-on, by myself. It was almost certainly a rite of passage. “Usually bonded dragons nest in the sects of their riders. But some of the weaker riders aren’t given enough space in their sect, or they simply don’t have permission because larger, more powerful dragons are occupying the available space. Because of that, their dragons stay here with what provisions they are given. Dragons can hunt for themselves, and the weather is always perfect, so it isn’t a hardship for them by any means.”

“So the dragons that live here are mostly riderless dragons or weaker ones?”

“Basically, yes, though bonded dragons do come to stay in their old nests from time to time. They visit each other, like demons or humans do.”

“And the stronger dragons…”

“Typically reside to the rear right of the territory,” Lucifer supplied.

I headed back that way. There was something new in his eyes now. A soft light had taken over the cunning gleam. An openness had diluted the analytical intelligence, giving the illusion that one could look down into his soul. Love glistened in his gaze. Adoration.

He noticed my assessing stare, my slowing gait, and glanced off in the direction I assumed his dragon resided. “I enjoy seeing her. She’s been with me a long time. No one else in the worlds knows me better.”

“You have a soft spot for your dragon.” I continued on, my heart warming. “That is a vulnerability, no?”

“Vulnerabilities aren’t something to be afraid of. They make us stronger in the end. You cannot really hate unless you know how to love. And you cannot revel in rage if you don’t know great passion. You cannot claim true vengeance unless you’ve felt the rush of fear that something you love has been hurt or lost. You will never know your true strength unless you give in to your greatest weaknesses. I enjoy vulnerabilities. I enjoy feeling the edge of my comfortability. I enjoy the rage that comes from fear. A rage I will unleash on the elves when the time is right.”

I pondered that as we traveled a path laid with small white-yellow stones. The area had ample space but little magic, most of the beasts sleeping right now, curled up tightly and not bothering with me at all. I’d expected a little more alarm at the stranger in their midst. I said as much.