Fire and Fate: Soaring Along with Epic Fantasy Dragons in Ann Gimpel’s Dragon Heir Series

I huddled deeper into a luxuriant clump of gorse bushes and drew my hood over my head to hide my bright hair. Thorns were a problem but a small enough price for protection. I’d tried, goddammit, but I hadn’t been quick enough reaching the cave I called home. Bugles from the Wild Hunt blared. Clanking chains, creaking saddle leather, and the whoops and cries of Odin and his contingent of long-dead faeries and warriors filled the air.

An invisibility spell was a crapshoot. The Hunt smelled magic like hunting dogs scented prey. Hard to do nothing, but safety lay in holding my position, in barely breathing—until the Hunt had flown by.

Not that they couldn’t return in a flash, but—

“Rowan?” Tansy’s terrified voice exploded into my mind.

Goddess blast it, so much for not drawing power. Telepathy didn’t take much, but still… “Hush.” I ground out the single word, hoping it would shut Tansy up.

So few witches were left. Tansy might be the last of them. Barely thirteen, her moonblood had just begun to flow.

Blood.

I sucked in a breath sharp as glass scrapings. The one thing the Hunt would zero in on faster than magic was blood. They soared right above me now, blotting out half a moon and all the stars. The pungent stink of horse sweat and drunken men wafted down, and I silently urged them to keep on flying. So far, so good. The horses’ hooves churned air, finding purchase somehow. Hunger streamed from the ghost army.

Hunger for warmth. For the living to feed on, so they could ride forever. As if to validate my thoughts, they broke into a rambling Norse drinking song, one I’d heard in the odd tavern or two back before the world broke.

Best not to go there. If I do, I might cry. Once I begin, the tears would never stop. I’d cry so much, I’d become one with rivers raging through the Scottish Highlands. Not such a horrible outcome. Better than ending up fodder for the Hunt.

Or the gargoyles or griffons or Harpies or Furies. Wicked things that had grown so brazen, they showed up in daylight. No time was safe to be about. Not anymore. I closed my teeth over my lower lip hard enough to hurt, stopping shy of piercing my skin. Blood was a very bad idea with the Hunt overhead.

A misplaced magical casting—and a very powerful one—had broken the balance point between bright and dark energy. At first, I’d been certain the witches could fix it, but I’d been wrong. Not that I’m exactly a witch, but I blend in better with them than anywhere else. Anyway, we wasted a whole lot of time and magic before we gave up. By then, survival hung by the barest of margins.

The Hunt wheeled in the night sky, forming a circle. A fist squeezed around my heart until pain filled my chest. Caught. Odin knew we were below him. Fucker. Bastard. Saliva departed, leaving my mouth sandpaper dry.

Everything slowed as I watched Tansy emerge from a magical shrouding.

Power. Hard to blame the girl. She must have been scared out of her wits, but she’d summoned magic. Between that and her blood, we’d had no chance of escaping notice. None at all.

I pounded a fist into the damp dirt. No wonder the Hunt had stopped.

Tansy rose unsteadily to her feet. Dressed in the same motley collection of rags all of us wore, blonde hair streamed down her slight form, and her breath formed clouds of steam in the chill air. Since she’d already been discovered, she began to chant in a clear voice that only trembled a little.

I knew the incantation, and the child’s courage seared me. It was a witch’s last-ditch attempt to save herself from death. My heart ached for Tansy, but I was proud of her too.

The aerial ballet circled, coming closer to the ground with each pass. I could see them clearly now, skeletal fingers, eyes like burning coals. I smelled their charnel pit breath, and what little was in my stomach curdled into a sour knot.

If I was going to act, my grace period had just expired. I had to make a move and do it now. Another few seconds, and the lead rider would latch onto Tansy. What they’d do to her would be worse than death.

Far worse.

A girl on the brink of womanhood would be passed from rider to rider in a never-ending circle of lust. Theirs, not hers.

Cursing to give myself strength and project the illusion I was a total badass, I bolted to my feet and raced toward the clearing fifty feet away, stumbling over tangled roots.

“Take me, instead, you bastards,” I screeched, shaking a fist at the riders.

Tansy turned a startled expression my way, her green eyes rounded into small moons. “Aw crap, Rowan. You didn’t need to—”

“Yeah. I did.”

I reached Tansy and looped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her shuddering form close as I warded us. My spell wouldn’t stand up to concerted battering from the Hunt, but it was the best I could do.

“I—I’m sorry,” Tansy stuttered.

“Be sorry later.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking. There had to be a way out of this.

Who am I kidding? I just offered myself. It gives them permission to take me.

Bile splashed the back of my throat. I swallowed it down. I refused to puke in front of Odin and his ilk. I’d stand proud, and I vowed I wouldn’t show distress. Not in front of this batch of rotters.

“Let the girl leave.” I squared my shoulders and looked Odin right in the eye, no easy task since his fiery gaze seared my corneas until I feared I’d be blind afterward.

“Aye, and is this a bargain freely requested and freely given?” he boomed in heavily accented English.

Tansy clutched at my arm. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll go. I’m the one who was stupid. I’m who—”

I rounded on her. “Shut up.” Tansy’s eyes filled with tears. I felt like a shit-ass. What I wanted was to drag her into my arms and comfort her, but comfort wasn’t part of the new world order.

Hadn’t been part of any world order I remembered. No one had ever offered me solace. Rolling my mental eyes, I shut off my pity party. Yeah. Life was a bitch. So what? Suck it up and keep on keeping on.

Tansy trembled where she leaned against me. I switched to shielded telepathy, hoping Odin and his merry crew wouldn’t pick up on it. “I may have a chance of returning, child. They’ll eat you up alive.”

I stood so straight my spine cracked in protest. Before Odin had to ask me again, I said, “Yes. It’s a bargain freely requested and freely given. So long as you allow the child free passage.”

Whoops and cheers rose from the riders. A slimy creeping sensation wracked my body. What would they do to me? Would I have enough cunning to escape? Magic wouldn’t be enough. I’d need luck, timing, courage. And a plan.

At the moment, I had nary a one of those four pesky items.