Sleeping Dragon

Sleeping Dragon Stephanie Burke All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2005 by Stephanie Burke

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Editor: Katriena Knights Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Chapter One Let Sleeping Dragons Lie Feet braced apart, arms extended to their maximum length, he stood and waited. There was nothing in his mind. His world was a blank slate, waiting to be filled, waiting for the agonizing pleasure… and the horrific pain. Slowly, it began, drawing its energy from the very earth on which he stood. Pulsing writhing ropes of energy, of magic, of power, twined around themselves as they sought a rod, a bearer for their might. Around his ankles they looped, slowly, like some starving creature seeking sustenance. And what they found seemed to please them, for they began to roll up the length of his body. Faster and faster they twined, their colors the brilliant blue that exists in the heart of every fire, the icy white of the coldest glacier, a sharp glaze of power blinding all who dared watch this spectacle. Up around his knees they crept, gaining confidence and speed with every second. On and on, around his waist, over his chest, across his shoulders until his head jerked back as if snapped by some unknown entity. Blood-red lips parted, a scream locked within a frozen throat, and a fall of silver white hair blew madly around his form in a wind created by power and magic. Bright lavender eyes snapped open to reveal luminescent sparks of pure white that illuminated those strange orbs, the eyes of an alien-one, and the eyes of the demented. The power seemed to lash out at its conduit, raising him to his toes as wave after wave of pure energy penetrated his body, gained a purpose, grew in its strength. His body arched, his arms flying above his head as the sheer strength of the thing that possessed him brought him to his toes, building and building until his whole person

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was one shining, glowing being that seemed almost too beautiful to view, yet too sinister and compelling to look away from. A cry erupted from his throat, loud, agonized. The cry echoed over the land as the very earth began to quake beneath his feet. His piercing scream startled the onlookers, the curious who had gathered to view this unusual feat, to watch what both heaven and hell had wrought and left to travel this land that they called their own. Transfixed, they stood watching, too stunned to look away. As he continued to scream, cry after cry of ecstatic pain, the energy that converged on his body began to coagulate, to meld into one large beam of power. Still screaming, he forced his arms toward the pulsing dome that surrounded the land, the thing that honor and history demanded he tend to, no matter the cost. His sudden silence was almost as unnerving as his screams had been. The world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as the tension built around the young man. The very gods seemed to tremble in fear. The tension built to a plateau, then nothing. Soon the people began to breathe easy, thinking the show was over. One final high-pitched scream exploded from his mouth. With that cry, a monstrous beam of light and power leapt from his body. Blue, silver, white, it all melded and swirled as warring colors shot from his body, his eyes, his mouth, following its given path, striking the shields with an audible crash that almost sounded like the shrieking cry of pure crystal shattering. His body gave way in the face of such a massive energy burst, but the power would not let his body fall. It supported him, swirled around him almost lovingly, draining the very life force from his body. Head tossed back to its farthest, hair whipping around that face, obscuring its near beauty from the frightened yet silent watchers, his body bowed and his knees bent as he fought to retain some of himself from the hungry energies that sought to leach his very essence.

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Trembling and panting, he whimpered once as the beam began to lose its brilliant illumination, then faded altogether, growing weaker and weaker as the conduit struggled to reclaim part of himself from the massive outpouring of power. Almost as if it had never been, the beam of light dispersed, exploded into a million glittering sparkles, before disappearing cleanly from sight. With a groan, the conduit dropped to his knees, his body falling backwards as all the energy seemed to leave with the passing of the beam. He knelt there, supple body bent backwards, breath struggling in his chest, as his strange, lavender eyes drifted shut. As he took his first full breath, the watchers were amazed to see a shadowy mist exhaled into the brilliant heat of the day, a breath that seemed as cold as the arctic islands they once harnessed to create that shield that protected them from the evils of the outside world. His whole body began to spasm. Two attendants rushed forward, carrying blankets, their concern evident as they hurried to attend him. One draped him in thick blankets as the other struggled to straighten his body into a more comfortable position. “Youltan?” Dele whispered, swaddling the long, lanky body, trying to restore some of its precious heat. But as he laid hands upon his face, even he was shocked at his master’s low temperature. This did not bode well. Youltan was the last of the Ice Mages, young for the position, true, but the only one of his kind left, and the only one to reinforce the ice shield that they all depended on. “Youltan?” he whispered urgently again as he began to rub the pale white cheeks that felt as cold as ice, desperate to bring some heat to his slim form. “This is bad,” Rese, the second attendant, whispered. He moved to lift his master into his arms, his massive frame easily hefting the weight of the young wizard.

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As they turned, the watchers parted to let them through, curiously repulsed by the one who had harnessed the power of the living earth, yet was feared almost as much as the things they strove to keep out. “Collect the payment, Dele.” Rese narrowed his eyes at the leering masses, who made no attempt to hide their disgust now that their shields were repaired. “Payment?” one elder whispered loudly enough for all to hear. “He should be grateful we allow his kind to live among us.” There was a general accepting murmur as his words were spread about, gossip flying faster than the Eltal beetles that had ravished the land before the protective shields. And like the menacing pestilence, the murmurs grew in numbers until their eventual negative meanings were multiplied and destruction was the inevitable conclusion. “He almost died for you,” Dele growled in response, his bass voice deep enough that it seemed to vibrate the earth. “He put in no thought of his own safety in order to protect you, good people,” he sneered, “from losing the one defense you do have. He has more than earned his meager pay and demands nothing more than what is fair and just.” “Let him die! We would be better off without his kind!” one voice, lost in the crowd, shouted, and was roundly applauded by most of those watching. But before a response came, another elder spoke up, his voice strong despite his advanced age. “And we call ourselves civilized?” he thundered, and suddenly there was a general hush as the chatter and hissing stopped. “He did not have to risk this to come to our aid. He could have remained home, safe in his sanctuary, yet he braved loss of life to assist us! And this is how we repay such generosity?” A few heads lowered in shame, while still more looked away, embarrassed by their own hateful natures. Then, turning to Dele, the elder sighed and began an eloquent apology. “We fear what we do not understand.” He spoke slowly and sagely. “It is in our nature to hate

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anything we fear, but we should have more control of our natures, if we wish to remain civilized.” Dele nodded, some of the anger leaving his face, but still his disgust was apparent. “Please do not judge us harshly,” the elder continued. “We do not have much to offer in the way of payment.” “And yet you promised recompense for this,” Dele snarled, pointing to the shivering, barely conscious form cradled protectively in Rese’s arms. “What is a human life worth, Elder?” he asked. “What cost would you place on a piece of your soul?” “He requested no gold, no jewels, no crops or fatted animals,” the elder agreed. “Just provisions for your stay here and the promised Dragon’s Claw Seeds to aid in his recovery.” “Then settle what you owe, Elder, and we shall take our most unwelcome presence away from your civilized town.” “The provisions we can gladly supply…” the elder began, but trailed off. “And the Dragon’s Claw?” Dele asked, horror beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach, making him nauseous as he stared at the old man. “That, I am afraid, will be a bit more difficult.” “What?” Rese demanded as his master’s spasms turned into near convulsions. “We… do not have the seeds,” the man replied, looking down in shame for his people’s deceit. “Old man!” Dele began, but the elder cut him off. “Our leaders felt that his help was important enough to lie to receive it. They were scared, and scared people do stupid things.” “He risked his life!” Dele roared, turning to stare at the people who began to disperse as soon as their prevarication was exposed. “And I… we wish to make amends.” “Can you restore what he gave of himself to the energies to save your people?” Dele demanded. Fear began to fill his voice. “Gods, what have you all done?”

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“He will recover…” But the old man trailed off as the Mage’s tremors grew and ice began to coat the long strands of his hair still visible from underneath his heavy layers of blankets. “He courts death!” Rese shouted, trying to wrap himself around his master, giving of his body heat to slow the ice’s voracious attempt to take over his body. “I… We shall make amends!” the elder all but shouted, obviously growing more frightened by what he saw. “How? What will restore the heat to his body that he willingly sacrificed to protect you gang of thieves and liars?” The old man seemed at a loss, his eyes wildly searching the area around him as if some answer would present itself in the flowering trees and plants of the glade they were standing in. Then he began to smile. “We have treasure that may help.” “Treasures are useless to us!” Dele all but screamed at the old man, wondering what they could do to protect his master. “But not this treasure.” As Dele turned to face the old man, his face twisted in righteous anger, the old man produced a strange metal object, a key that gleamed red-orange in his wrinkled hand. “In the mountains,” the man confided, staring lovingly at the key. “In the mountains to the south, there is a castle.” “In the frozen badlands!” Rese growled. “I have enough strength to get you there.” The old man turned the strange tasseled key he held in his hand. “You will find what you seek for your master.” “Another trick!” Rese growled, struggling to hold onto his quivering bundle. “But your only chance to save your master,” the old man sighed as he tore his eyes from the key and connected with Dele’s serious gaze. “Trust me, please. This is the key to save your master. I give it to you with good will and in an attempt to make this -­

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” He waved his hands around the mostly deserted field, ending with his hands pointed in the Mage’s direction. “To make this right.” “Dele!” Rese began, but the other attendant shook his head. “If there is a chance, Rese, we have to trust him. We have no other recourse.” “I don’t like this!” Rese growled, but nodded his acceptance. “If you play us false, old man…” Dele began, but the elder sadly shook his head. “I make no false claims when a life is at stake. Do you stand here and argue him to death, or do you trust a little, for his sake?” Sighing, Dele reached for the key, jumping as the energy within it pulsed against his palm. “You will not be allowed to enter with him,” the old man warned. “You will be granted comfortable quarters and given everything you need, but he must enter alone.” “Already the stipulations!” Rese protested, but Dele raised his hand to silence him. He felt the energy in the key, recognized it as a source of power. “How?” “Place it in his hand,” the old man continued. He raised his arms and began to chant. Nodding, Dele walked over to his partner and their master. Delving within the folds of the blanket, he produced one pale, trembling hand, icy to the touch. “I hope we are doing the right thing,” Rese whispered as Dele pried open the stiff fingers and placed the key within. There was a sharp clap of thunder, and a red-orange spark leapt from the key to the master’s hand… The chanting grew louder and a magical tension began to fill the air. Flash! Pop! Sizzle! Then the field was emptied of the strange one and the two who so zealously guarded him. “It is done,” the man sighed, and then turned toward his home, the honor of his people tarnished and cracked, but still able to be repaired.

***

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Rese jumped in shock as a loud sound filled his ears, then gasped as the most beautifully unusual people he had ever seen instantly swarmed him. “The Sleeping Dragon!” someone gasped, and before he could react, his master was all but torn from his hands as the beautiful swarm crowded around, touching him and muttering in a strange language. “Hurry!” a newer, authoritative voice demanded. An attendant grasped Rese’s arm and pulled him down a hall. “There is not much time left!” Rese resisted until he saw Dele rushing along beside him, then let himself be carried along in the urgency. “There’s not much time!” the attendant repeated, and then the world blurred as he raced along stone halls. “Hurry!” The place was a maze of halls and doors, a castle Rese decided as he raced along with the man, ignoring the severe guardsmen who stood seemingly around every corner. Finally they came to a huge iron-braced wooden door. The imposing arch of wood and metal had several runes inscribed upon its rough surface, but they were words that Rese did not know. He watched as the attendant placed his palm upon the door and it silently parted, the wards holding it closed easing. The man nodded at Rese. “We will see to his comfort. Follow the guards. They will take you to a place of rest and refreshment.” Then the man entered, cradling the limp body of his master. Rese had no choice but to follow as the guards led him away. Silently, he prayed that he had done the right thing.

Chapter Two Those Who Play With Fire… “I refuse!” The low, rather nasal voice was calm as it gave its response indolently, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You can’t refuse, dragon. He possesses the key.” “Then take it away and find someone else. I refuse to be an aid to one of them!” “Need I remind you of your position? You can refuse him nothing.” “Then we can sit here and argue until he dies. Then there will be no need of refusals or discussions.” “You would let an innocent man die?” “His type are never innocent.” “Look at him! Look at him, Garyn! Look at him and then tell me if you dare refuse?” There were several moments of silence, silence when Youltan could feel an assessing gaze on his person. He did not have the strength to make an effort to open his eyes. If he was going to die, then let the Soul Stealer come, for he had grown weary of this existence anyway. He was in too much pain to care. A caressing finger ran the length of his frozen face, so warm it was nearly scalding. He trembled from the painful touch even as his body strained to get closer. An inarticulate sound rolled uncontrollably from his throat and his body began to shudder. The warmth withdrew. Curiosity began to take precedence over his misery. Somewhere, he found the strength to force his eyes open, just a little, and was immediately caught by the thing, the person, he saw. Pale hair, about as pale as the mane he sported, brushed along a sharply jutting chin. Lips that were shaped like an archer’s bow yet were now pursed in slight…

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distaste? An aristocratic nose, sharp and keen, seemed to quiver as it scented his skin. A pair of glowing eyes, the color of the earth in its rebirth after the cold season. Or was it the color of the seas at their most storm-shrouded? His eyes began to close as weakness again took hold of his body. He decided that he could not tell. And yet they were the most coldly beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He never heard the resigned sigh or the nod of acceptance, the illusion of choice given to the cold-eyed man. He sank slowly into oblivion, the remaining view of those eyes following him into darkness.

Chapter Three Stoke The Flames… Had he ever felt such warmth? Had his body ever been rid of the chill that seemed to ride his form no matter what he did? Sweet, luxuriant heat! Youltan reveled in the feeling of being warm. Warm! He was actually warm! A low groan of appreciation bubbled out of his mouth as he twisted his body to get closer to the actual heat source. He purred as he pressed his face against the softly scented fur and buried his nose in the soft, delicate skin of his bed-partner’s neck. He felt lazy and indulgent, not wanting to move from this spot. He even felt a warm tickle, a low thrumming heat at the base of his spine. A tingling sensation settled in his balls and he moaned as he felt his cock began to fill and pulse with blood. That was enough to shock him into complete wakefulness. He hadn’t had an erection in years! He honestly believed that his sexual urges, along with any freedom in his life, had been sacrificed long ago for the greater good. Or at least that was what he had been told. Only an act of the gods or a true miracle could make his cock hard, and yet there it was, rising against the backside of his bed warmer. “I see you have awakened, Master.” It was that voice again, that cold, calm voice that wished his death. Slowly, he opened his eyes and focused on the head that was sharing the same pillow. Carefully, he pulled his arms from around the creature, easing the rest of his body away with as much dignity as he could muster, only to find that he was naked and ensconced in one of the largest beds he had ever seen. His attention turned once again to his bed partner as he shifted, giving one small, flashing view of a strange marking on his lower back before turning to fully face him.

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“Who are you?” Youltan asked, almost afraid of this creature as he took in the burning green-gray eyes and the small flash of disgust that the man was quick to cover with a calm expression “I am your Key, Master.”

“Key?”

“Key, slave, toy, thing to play with, bed warmer, foot rubber, hole to pound if

you so desire. I am your Key, Master, to do with as you will. Now, what will you have of me?” The smile that spread across his face was unsettling, to say the least.

Chapter Four Thar Be Dragons! Garyn examined the trembling creature that now owned him, and again wondered what cosmic joke the gods were playing on him. Why, his master was no more than a mere boy! Thin and undernourished and magically depleted almost to the point of death. Who would grace such a young child with such power, and not heed the consequences of their actions? Or was the life of that misbegotten child meaningless to them? Garyn stared as the eyes, as lavender tinted as his white hair, widened in shock when the boy realized he was naked, then in absolute horror when he got a good look at his Key. “I am no master!” he almost shouted, denouncing the title that Garyn had gifted him with. “You are possessor of the Key.” “I have no key! I have nothing! And I refuse to take as sexual partner one so young as you! Have they no shame? Who has done this to you?” Garyn grinned as his master’s face flushed with healthy color as he became irate on his slave’s behalf. His master thought he was too young. It was almost laughable. “I should be asking those questions of you, Master. And as for who has done this to me, you need only look in the mirror.” “I have never committed such a crime as turning a child into a whore!”

There was a flash of glowing light, and Youltan swore he saw smoke curling out of the young man’s nostrils.

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“Watch yourself, young Ice Mage. Have a care with your words and be careful who you consider a whore.” Those eyes narrowed on him for a moment, and then the danger passed as if it had never been. A smile took the place of the snarl and the boy, his Key, was back to normal. “I take it you have no knowledge of your history, boy?” Those eyes almost smirked at him. “My name is Youltan, not boy. And I am over thirty seasons old.” Shaken, but trying not to let his fear show, Youltan stiffened his shoulders and faced the enigma across from him. For a moment, he swore he felt an ancient power, far greater than anything that was passed on to him, and then it was gone. “Master. Boy. Youltan. It is all the same to me.” That said, the apparently teenaged male -- for he looked not a day over nineteen seasons -- rose, unashamed of his nudity, and reached for a pair of soft-looking black trousers that lay at the foot of his bed. Youltan turned away, forcing his eyes away from the delicate topaz flesh that stretched attractively along the young man’s body, and again felt that foreign rush of blood to his nether regions. He could not be attracted to this mere boy, he thought, even though he was only a year or two older than his… Key. But he turned when he heard the boy place his feet on the ground; turned quickly enough to catch a glimpse of the marking on his back. Was that a ward? He was still blinking at that strange design, trying to make it out, when the boy turned and he found himself staring at his crotch. A blush burned his face as he turned away, pulling the sheet up higher to hide his nakedness and his reaction to his Key. The Key noticed where he was looking, and the blush on his face, then exploded in laughter. “It’s not funny.” Youltan was desperately looking for a way out of this situation. Where were Dele and Rese?

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“Oh, I think it’s funny, Master Youltan.” Youltan scowled. Still chuckling, the Key turned away and pulled on the gold arm bands that encircled the firm muscles of his biceps, adjusting their fit before he tugged on the laces of his pants. Again, Youltan couldn’t help but notice how the ass-grabbing pants laced up the sides, and how his muscular flesh seemed to pulse at the leather cords that held them in place. His Key was one small package of sensuality. As he watched, the young man ran his fingers through his hair, giving the silky strands a shake and settling them into place around his head. The back of his hair was cut short enough to expose the delicate structure of his long neck and the still undefined ward on his back, but the front gently sloped down to frame that exquisite face. If it were not for the eyes and the flash of power that he felt before, Youltan would have sworn that he was just another young man from a village. “You must be hungry.” That nasal voice drew him out of his reverie, and as if in answer, his stomach gurgled loudly. Youltan flushed in embarrassment and wished that he were alone to push down his nerves and behave as befitted an Ice Mage of his caliber. “I will go and draw you a bath, Master Youltan, and I will order you a meal. Then when you are sufficiently recovered, we shall talk about my duties and how I may serve.” “Serve?” Youltan wailed, finally overcome by too many emotions. “I don’t even know what to call you.” “You may call me slave, if you so desire. Or you may call me Key, as some have been wont to do. But if you want a name, you may call me Garyn. I will answer to any name you choose, as I am obligated to care for my masters, even one such as you.”

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Leaving a confused and slightly frightened Youltan behind, Garyn left the room to start the bath. He might not care for his new master, but he would treat him with all the dignity and respect that he could. Even if it tore a part of his soul to shreds.

Chapter Five Changes… Youltan sat in the tangle of lightly scented blankets and wondered what had happened while he was playing in the void. He lifted one hand to run it through his tangled hair, but paused as he realized how his hands trembled. He looked at the child they had sent in to attend him, and momentarily longed for his return to the bed. The heat the young man had produced was phenomenal, just the thing to help restore his balance, to thaw the ice that was slowly freezing his internal organs and sapping his life’s force. But common sense took over and he resisted calling for the pale-haired youth. It was… abominable the way Garyn was being treated, the things they forced him to do. Only a perverted monster would… He never finished the thought. Hard tremors took him over again as the precious body heat Garyn had produced faded away. He huddled back in the covers, searching for the warm spot the overly mature youth had left in the bed. No matter what he said, in his opinion Garyn was still too young to be doing this. He grumbled to himself and pulled the covers over his head. His tremors were not as painful as they had been before, but they were still uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and breathed in Garyn’s scent. Then he felt shame, for all he wanted was to have that small body back underneath the blankets with him. It made no difference that he was not attracted to males or that extreme youth and sexual practices never mixed in his imaginings -- he wanted that body back, to use him for his heat… almost like they used him for his life.

***

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Garyn watched dispassionately as the steaming water filled the sunken tub he was allowed to use for his masters. This one, this creature was different, somehow, he reasoned. The Ice Mages were creatures of his worst nightmares, and now he was sold to one, left at the not-so-tender mercies of the maniacal race. Yet, he sensed no evil intent in this one. He actually almost felt sorry for the poor creature. He’d looked half starved, was ice-burnt internally, and his intelligence seemed seriously lacking, no matter how strong his magics were. Recalling the thin frame, with each individual rib showing through his skin, Garyn took time to pull a bell cord to summon attendants his captors provided, to bring a hot meal for his master. He hoped they remembered to bring something soft and cool, or upon eating the Mage’s organs would shatter and Garyn would no doubt be blamed and have more punishment heaped upon his head. Having wasted enough time dallying in the bathing chambers, Garyn made his way back to the bedroom and to the creature that now had command of him. But what he saw was a scared child huddled in his bed and whimpering in pain. Food could wait. He had to get his new master, this Youltan, heated up before complications set in. A half-crazed Ice Mage would be a bad thing running about unchecked in the prefectshire. Though there were worse things that planned to run amuck. But there would be a time for that, and maybe, just maybe, this Ice Mage could be the key.

Chapter Six Reevaluations… Youltan was aware of another being in the room, but was not really alert until he felt hands pulling away the protective cover of the blankets. It was chilly beneath them, since he had no body heat to speak of, but they were better than having nothing at all to capture the small amount of heat his body produced in his tremors. He growled and tried to pull them back, but the hands were strong and seemed impatient. “If you release the covers, I will endeavor to warm you up, Master.” That voice, that young voice -- he knew that voice. Youltan’s mind struggled for comprehension, but his thoughts scattered like chaff in the wind as his discomfort increased. Thin, strong arms lifted him. The air irritated his chafed skin, then there was blessed heat. It was humid, wherever he was being taken, and he blessed the person carrying him deeper into the moist heat. His naked body was lowered, enveloped in a silky heat that filled his pores and sank deeply into his soul. He sighed as the tension began to melt from his body and his tight muscles began to ease. He exhaled deeply, a puff of cold white steam pouring from his mouth. The muscles in his face began to unclench. Relief filled his pale features. “Thank you,” he managed, forcing his eyes open to see his benefactor. “All part of the service, Master,” came the sarcastic reply from the young man -Garyn -- who appeared to have carried him into this bathing chamber. There was no one else present.

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“How…” Youltan blinked the steam from his eyes, minute tremors still shaking his body to a lesser degree, and stared at the unfortunate young man. “I… I…” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to say…” “Garyn?” The pale-haired youth arched his eyebrow at his stuttering master. He looked almost amused. “You find me funny?” Youltan asked, trying to build up some indignation, but, being too tired for the effort, he settled for a baleful glare. “You and your kind,” Garyn chuckled. “My kind? I guess it would be too much to hope for that the opinion of those on the outside has not reached here, wherever here is.” He sank deeper into the water, uncaring that his pale violet locks were being soaked or that he would appear quite petulant to Garyn. “So I guess you will either fear me, become disgusted with me, or get some sick, perverted delight out of tormenting me.” “That is more your people’s style, Ice Mage.” Garyn sniffed as he began to strip off his clothing. “What are you doing?” Youltan asked, panic clear in his voice. “I am disrobing. What does it look like?” “But why?” “Why? Because I would prefer not to have to wash you in wet pants.” “Wash me?” “Is there an echo in here or are the rumors about Ice Mages true?” “Rumors?” “I will let that last repetition slide because it is obvious ice has frosted over your brains.” Garyn neatly stepped out of his pants, folded them and placed them on a low table near the bath. “You are stiff and frozen. You are shaking like a visitor to the village when the Virgin Sacrifices are being drawn, and because of that you could go under at any moment. And because you smell.” “I… I what?” Youltan’s eyes widened as he took in the man’s words. “I smell?”

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“Like a wet searcher dog.” Garyn slowly shook his head at the Mage and a slight blush stole over Youltan’s face. “It is… difficult, raising the energies to repair the ice shield on my own.” “Repair?” Garyn paused in reaching for a basket filled with bathing supplies and turned to face his master fully. “It needs repair? It was made to last a thousand seasons.” “That was a thousand seasons ago,” Youltan stated. “And so many things have changed. How long have you been here? Have you no news of the outside world?” “A thousand seasons,” Garyn breathed, looking contemplative for a moment, then he shook his head, sending his bobbed hair flying. He snatched up his basket and headed toward his master, seemingly uncaring of his nudity. “And where is the Caste of Mages? Should they not have sent more than one baby Mage to do a coven’s work?” “Coven?” Youltan looked up, startled. He stared at the man entering the pool of water with him. “Covens were disbanded almost six hundred seasons ago. There is really only… me.” “The Mages have fallen?” Garyn froze mid-step. “The Mages are no more?” “Were you born here?” Youltan questioned, surprised at Garyn’s lack of knowledge. “To not know how the people turned on the Mages…” “I was very young when I was brought here. I scarcely remember what freedom tastes like. But I definitely want to get a taste of you.” The Mage’s already pale complexion paled even more. “What?” Garyn finally asked. “Virgin?” “Yes, well, but that’s not the point!” Youltan managed in his haste to put some distance between the two of them. “The point is?” Garyn slowly submerged himself into the water, a hungry look on his face. “Besides, that was some point you were shoving against my ass earlier.” “I was asleep!” Youltan protested. “It happens to a lot of men!” “And you look so surprised, too. First gift from the goddesses of lust?” “Yes… I mean no… I mean… you’re a boy!”

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“Man.” “Male!” Youltan didn’t feel like arguing semantics. He wanted the boy out of his tub. “If that is your problem…” The heat in the room began to increase and the water Garyn stood in began to bubble, steam rising up to surround his body in swirls and waves. Within seconds, a veritable whirlwind of steam and smoke began to encircle Garyn’s form, obscuring it from sight. Bright flashes of light, rich reds and yellows, exploded intermittently as the temperature in the room increased even more. Pressure began to build and the scent of old magic -- old, unheard of magic -- filled the chamber. Just when Youltan felt that his ears would explode with the pressure, or that he would lose vision because of the brightness of the aura surrounding the whirling dervish around the young man, the pressure exploded. Just like that, calmness returned, the lights blinked out of existence, and the water settled calmly into the tub. Unused to being around such wild and elemental magic, Youltan sat there, stunned, as his instincts to run vied with his body’s inability to do so. So he sat and watched as the air cleared and the new form, still shimmering with a bit of lingering magic, came into view. No longer stood there a young male, barely old enough to shave, with all the rebellious and capricious nature of one in the prime of his youth. No, instead, what stood there took his breath away, made his eyes widen in shock, and caused that only once-before felt phenomenon known as erection or arousal to cause his cock to stiffen and make its presence known through the thin covering of water. In fact, Youltan was so shocked he didn’t know whether to stare down at his lap or to stare in amazement at the creature that now stood before him.

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Sleeping Dragon

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For gone was the brash youth, Garyn, with his knowing looks and his disturbing attitude. What stood in his place was much, much worse -- or better, if the size of his erection was anything to go by. In Garyn’s place stood a female, a female with warm, glowing eyes, pale, bobbed hair, and the most pert set of breasts he had ever been privileged to behold. A pair of breasts that bobbed and swayed as this new person stepped close to him, bent over him, and breathed into his ear. “Is this better, Master?” That voice, that slightly nasal voice! It was the same! “Gar-Garyn,” Youltan stuttered. “In the flesh,” the now female youth whispered. “And from what I see peeking up from the bath water, flesh you are terribly delighted to see.”

Chapter Seven Seduce Me… Youltan could only stare as this female, this graceful creature, started purposefully toward him. Her full breasts were small, yet well-formed, their tips a bright, scarlet red. Her hips, while slim, were perky and enticing, gently flaring into muscular thighs, giving the small frame a shapely appearance. And between those thighs… The pale thatch of soft-looking hair held crystalline beads of water, making that gateway to what he instinctively knew would be paradise glisten, shimmer, and beckon to him. As he stared, agog, Garyn grinned, watching as Youltan’s erection swelled until the head of his cock broke water like some hungry water serpent. Holding his surprised gaze, she threw her head back, cupping handfuls of the warm perfumed water and pouring it over her breasts, making her bright nipples even harder. “Garyn…” Youltan breathed, awestruck by the beauty of this creature that had just shifted sex before him. “Are you real?” “Oh, I am real, Mage,” she chuckled, stepping closer. “Smell me.” She leaned over his seated form and let the bobbed ends of her hair brush against his face. “Touch me.” She gripped both of his hands, and after placing a tender kiss on each palm, pressed them against her breasts, moaning at the gentle touch of another living being. “Taste me,” she purred, still holding his hands, forcing them to cup and lift her breasts, pressing one hard nipple against his lips.

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Sleeping Dragon

- 27 -

With a groan, his mouth surrounded her, suckling and licking, tasting her as if he had never tasted anything as sweet. Garyn threw back her head, a moan of delight rolling from her chest as Youltan’s unskilled but eager mouth drew an intense response from her. “Just like that, Youltan,” she whimpered, her hips winding and grinding until he moved his hands from her breasts to grip them, pulling her down and against his obvious erection. “Mmm, big,” she purred. Youltan was lost in the hot, spicy taste of her, the arousing scent of her. He really didn’t know what to expect for his first time, never even gave it any consideration, but now this seductive goddess was offering him heat and flame, desire and passion, and he was giddy with the privilege. He tightened his hands on her hips, relishing the feel of her soft skin as his hands ran around to cup her ass, squeezing her full roundness. “You learn fast, Youltan,” Garyn growled as she eased back far enough to bend down and take his lips in a demanding kiss. Youltan growled as her tongue invaded his mouth, tickling at his gums before gently running along the roof. Nerve endings he never knew he possessed exploded in a passionate frenzy, sending shards of lightning straight to his groin. He found himself teasing her tongue with his, relishing the slick feel of it, sucking on that playful organ to bring the rich, full flavor of her into him. Moaning as he took over the kiss, Garyn relented, letting him explore as her hands tangled in the hair at the back of his neck, rubbing knotted muscles and releasing tension to prepare him for the ultimate act of joining. Finally, she broke off the kiss, ignoring his growl of disappointment, and dropped her knees on either side of his hips, sliding down, leaving a trail of kisses to his own erect nipples. “So hard for me,” she purred, lapping at his sensitive flesh, making his pale nipples redden in desire. “So hard, Youltan, and responsive. What else do you have for me, something harder and even more responsive?” She arched her eyebrow as she

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Sleeping Dragon

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looked up at him, noting the flushed face and his lips, parted in passion. She smiled even wider as his pink tongue flashed out to lap at his dry lips. “We are going to put that tongue to good use,” she purred, before she dropped her head and began to nip and lick at his nipples. “Gods, Garyn,” Youltan breathed as fire shot down his chest and forced him to arch deeper into her caresses. “Just Garyn.” She peeked up at him as she traveled from one nipple to the next. As far as virgin Mages went, Youltan was so much fun! She continued licking and lapping at his flesh as she moved lower, until she reached the waterline just around where his thin pubic bush started. “Rise up, my stallion.” She teased her tongue in the sweet indentation of his navel, making his hands scramble along the wet marble surface of the tub’s rim, seeking purchase. “Rise up and let me send you to the next plane.” As if in a trance, Youltan rose to his feet, sliding up until the hard knob of his swollen erection tapped her in the chin. “Sit on the rim,” she urged, her hands reaching around to knead the cheeks of his ass. “Sit back, relax, and let me take you there.” Youltan did as he was bidden, almost frantic in his need. His cock throbbed with his heartbeat and felt so hard he was sure it would never go soft again. He looked down and watched as he began to leak pre-cum, the shiny pre-ejaculate making the tip of his cock shine in the candlelight. “So big.” Garyn stared, amazed at the size of Youltan. For such a slender man, he carried his meat all in the right places. She watched, licking her lips as his foreskin rolled downward, exposing the heart-shaped purple head of his cock. He was long, about the same length as her member when she was in male form, measuring about nine or ten inches. And he was thick, her thumb and forefinger barely touching as she fisted him firmly. He was not veiny or awkward, just a long, thick, graceful curve that she knew would stretch her correctly and reach places that would drive her mad with lust.

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Sleeping Dragon

- 29 -

Youltan watched Garyn watching him, saw the hunger in her eyes as she licked her lips, and felt himself grow even more. “Gods,” he gasped, letting his head drop back, struggling for control as even her gaze almost pushed him over. “Garyn,” she replied. “Remember my name. You will be screaming it in a minute.” Before he could even develop a response to that, Garyn opened her mouth and just sucked him in deep. “Garyn!” he screamed as she swallowed him in one go, the head of his cock sinking into her tight, wet, and incredibly hot throat. Whimpering, he attempted to thrust his hips upward, only to have her hands grip his hips and hold him steady. He looked down and almost lost it when she peered up at him, her mouth filled with his cock, a self-satisfied look on her face. Then, slowly, she began to swallow around him, her throat muscles working his length, making his eyes cross and his balls rise as a wave of desire swept over him. Pulling back slowly, he felt every inch of his length slide out of that caressing throat before her teeth nipped his tip and her tongue laved away the sting. “You taste good, virginal and sweet, Youltan,” she purred before she closed her eyes and her tongue lashed out to tickle the slit at the tip of his cock. Youltan opened his eyes again and gasped at what he now saw. Her tongue, that delicate pink organ, had stretched out long enough to completely wrap around the head of his cock, the forked tip tickling at his slit and the rest delving under his foreskin to caress the sensitive skin there. “Garyn!” he screamed, not in fear but in ecstasy as her caresses drove his erotic tension higher. Moaning her pleasure, Garyn withdrew her tongue and swallowed him whole again, this time bobbing her head as she began to hum a tuneless song. Youltan’s hands tangled in her short hair, tugging and pulling as his ecstasy reached uncontrollable heights.

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Sleeping Dragon

- 30 -

He felt himself throb in her throat and he choked back a scream. A tingling began at the base of his spine and his hips began to lift despite her hold on him. As he began to thrust, Garyn pulled back, smacking her lips and giving his swollen, angry cock one last lick, ignoring his groan of disappointment. “This is going to explode deep inside me, Youltan. Nowhere else.” “Got to be inside you,” Youltan repeated, his eyes blazing as he reached out and gripped her hips, easily lifting her weight. Agreeably, Garyn spread her legs to wrap them around his waist, as he settled her in his lap. Squealing in delight, she sank two fingers into her opening, spreading the moisture there around, and ensuring she was stretched enough to accept his invasion. Youltan growled again, knocking her hand aside as he sank two of his own fingers into her wet heat. Garyn whimpered and arched backwards, giving him room to explore her swollen lips and her clit. “It’s like a small penis,” Youltan whispered, rubbing his thumb over her clit, massaging the tip. “Fuck!” Garyn gasped, pressing into the delicate touch, grinding her pussy down on his searching fingers. “You learn fast.” “I want to lick you,” Youltan whispered, imagining what the thick fluid flowing freely from her body would taste like. “Want to suck you until your juices cover me.” “Later!” Garyn gasped as Youltan took over. “Fuck me now!” His hands gripped her waist, pure animal instinct moving him as he lifted her and held her above his cock. “Let me guide you,” she whispered, nipping lightly at his neck. One hand reached between their bodies to hold him steady. Then he was slipping inside, parting her lips and filling her with an almost painful pleasure as he forged forward. Garyn’s head snapped backwards and she groaned as she continued to be filled with his hunger.

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Sleeping Dragon

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Youltan bite his lip, clenching his jaws for control while his cock sank into her hot, wet pussy. Had there ever been a tighter, sleeker vise? If he had been standing, she would have brought him to his knees. His whole body trembled as her heat filled him in an unexpected way, warming him from the inside, filling his heart with an unexplained emotion. He opened his eyes and gazed down at his lover -- yes, lover. And for the first time since his childhood, he didn’t feel alone. She was beautiful, this exotic creature skewered on his cock. Voluptuous, and hungry, everything he had always thought were tall tales and fantasy when men discussed their lovers over a few rounds of drinks. She was fire-hot, scorching, and for the moment, she was all his. His musings were interrupted by his lover wiggling and grinding in his lap. “Fuck me, Youltan!” Garyn whimpered, her nails tearing into the flesh of his shoulders. “Damn you, move!” So he did. And they both screamed their passion aloud as he lifted her up and dropped her back down. Then Garyn took over, raising herself and forcing him deeper inside with every thrust. She began spewing gibberish, words in a guttural language unknown to him, curses in the basic language, all urging him to move, harder, faster, deeper. So he did, thudding his hips upwards as she slammed down. White lights exploded behind his eyes, and all the muscles of his body tensed. Faster! He had to move faster. With Garyn hanging onto his shoulders keening her pleasure, Youltan began to slam upwards, taking her to the fullest, feeling his balls slam up against her ass at each thrust. “Fuck me, Mage!” Garyn roared, her skin beginning to glow a steaming hot red as the water that surround them began to bubble and boil. But Youltan felt no pain as the Ice Magic within him rose, sending cool, tingling shards through his cock and into his lover’s channel.

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Sleeping Dragon

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“Gods, yes!” Garyn shrieked at the touch of cold in the midst of so much heat. It pushed her over the edge, her inner walls gripping and milking his still moving cock. Her muscles beat against his rock hard cock, making her explode a second time as her eyes flared a red-orange and steam rolled from her open mouth. Youltan felt her contracting as if her pussy were strangling his cock. But Gods, the cold that surrounded the head of his cock in the midst of all that heat sent his senses reeling. “Garyn!” he roared as his eyes slammed shut, his balls rose, and his spine melted through the head of his cock. His whole body spasmed and shuddered as his release tore through him, sending his burning hot seed blasting through the layer of cold, warming her on the inside once more. The feel of his creamy seed, the hot juices that surrounded his cock, the tingle of cold, all combined to nearly drive him insane. Climactic wave after wave of pleasure raced through his body, turning his muscles to mush and weakening him so that he bonelessly slid back into the still bubbling waters. “Garyn,” he breathed. “D-damn,” Garyn stuttered. Her head dropped onto his shoulder, shudders still wracking her body from the intense explosions that forced their way through her. “If I knew virgins were like this, I would have accepted one or two of those sacrifices.”

Chapter Eight Consequences… Youltan sighed, for once in his life completely and utterly, even blissfully, warm. He fairly floated in the water, the image of Garyn arousing him, taking him over into absolute pleasure, enough to arouse him all over again. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him, her eyes glinting in amusement. “How was that, Master?” “Don’t call me master. I am no man’s master, Garyn. Please, just call me Youltan.” He attempted to sit up, but the lethargy in his bones, coupled with major body fatigue, kept him barely conscious. “You have two servants.” “Who were not given a choice and refuse to leave my side.” “And why is that?” Garyn moved closer to her master, eyeing him suspiciously, as if weighing his every word. “Because they have nowhere else to go.” Youltan sighed, sinking deeper in the water as a yawn forced his mouth open and his eyes closed. “They were never given a choice.” “An unpleasant prospect.” Youltan opened his eyes again to stare at Garyn, so bitter were her words. “And you were never given a choice, either?” “I was warded and imprisoned here before I could recover from my attack.” Her eyes bled red with the heat of her anger as she stared down at her master.

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Sleeping Dragon

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It would be so easy to kill the innocent fool, but she needed him if her plan was to go into effect. “Why?” His question brought her out of her dark musings, and for a moment, she stared deeply into his purple eyes, struggling to see the man behind the Mage. No one else had ever bothered to ask her why before. This was a new development. “Why? Because they could, because some people told them to, because my people were thought to be evil and unclean. That’s all it really takes, Master, to wipe out an existence -- the rumors and words of the ignorant.” “What we do not understand, we fear.” “And what you fear, you kill,” Garyn added, staring at her Mage in a peculiar way. “You sound as if you understand the lot of the downtrodden, Master.” “I am no person’s master, Garyn. And indeed I do understand. I stand before you an Ice Mage, the lowest of the low, not even worthy of the scraps the villagers would toss to their hounds.” There was silence for a moment, then Garyn rose from the still-hot waters and reached for a nearby drying cloth. “How the mighty have fallen,” she chuckled, “Youltan.” “If you are referring to me, Garyn,” Youltan stated, “I have never been mighty.” “If what you say is true, then you are indeed correct and I am most fortunate in my choice of mast… house guests.”

Youltan didn’t know what to make of the female who had only moments ago ridden him as if he were the last steed away from a barrier break. One moment, Garyn was male, then he was a she, and then she was scalding his cock in an act of mating so hot that the very water that surrounded them boiled. Not that he was complaining. He was just curious when the bill for such treatment had to be paid. No one had ever given him anything for free, performed some service for him without a price, and that price was usually high.

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Sleeping Dragon

- 35 -

“What are you, Garyn?” He watched this contrary female slowly blot the water from her body, watched as she ran that thirsty cloth over her soft skin, cupping her breasts absently as she contemplated his question with her head tilted to one side. Youltan was almost distracted by the way her hands played with her breasts as she blotted the cloth over berry-colored nipples swollen from the heat and play of his mouth. He felt an ache in the center of his stomach as he watched her, and a tingling in his balls that told of his renewed arousal. Garyn chuckled, noticing his reactions to her. “Fascinating, aren’t they?” she chuckled. “When I first became sexually aware, I would take my feminine shape and just play with them for hours.” “What are you?” Youltan repeated his question, tearing his eyes away from the mesmerizing bounce of her breasts as she shimmied her chest. “I am a sex shifter.” Garyn tossed her towel aside and reached for a thin robe. “A sex… You mean there is a male somewhere deep inside you?” In all of his forced magical studies, he had never come across a sex shifter. “I mean that both sexes are but different sides of the same coin for me. I am both and neither. I guess it all depends on what my master wants. I carry the same desires and needs as anyone, I suppose. Basic desire doesn’t change all that much and most of us just want someone to…” She trailed off, looking off into space, so Youltan attempted to complete her comment. “Someone to love?” He felt for a moment as if he were falling into that esoteric emotion, but Garyn’s laughter cured him of that notion, and quickly. “Love?” she chortled. “Love, Youltan? As if such an emotion ever existed! Spoken like a true recently deflowered virgin.” She laughed even harder as a blush, a true blush, suffused his features. If his blood was flowing to create a hue of red that deep in his skin, then he was well on the mend. “Every human requires --”

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Sleeping Dragon

- 36 -

“The comfort of a good fuck every now and again,” Garyn cut him off. “We are base in our needs, Youltan. We need food, shelter, and a good mating to keep us sane and make us feel connected. That is all.” “You poor creature,” Youltan breathed. “Without love, there is no hope.” “And has there ever been any hope for me?” Suddenly the sweet, docile Garyn was gone and in her place was a hissing, spitting creature with angry red eyes and pale skin, speaking in a menacing tone right in his face. Garyn was now close enough to him that he could see the small sparks of flame swirling in her eyes, close enough to feel the heat pouring from her body like a furnace. “Tell me, Mage, is there any hope for me, trapped in this miserable existence on the whims of others, bereft of any of my kind, a mere whore for those who have the key and the knowledge of my existence? Is it love when one of my masters flays the skin from my back to prove he is superior and then fucks my male form with my blood being the only lubricant? Is it love when one of them demands I take a female form so that they may play out their sick and twisted rape fantasies? Is it the love of my captors who keep me trapped here, selling my soul to the highest bidder? Is this the love you speak of, Mage? For it is the only thing of love that I know.” Youltan just sat there, staring into the emotion in Garyn’s eyes, an emotion so close to hate and loathing that he felt afraid for the first time. “Thought so.” Garyn sneered before she turned away. But her master’s voice called to her before she could make her way to the door. “You don’t speak of love, Garyn,” he called. “You speak of lust and greed, and abuse. They are the dark side to the coin you so easily dismiss.” “The dark side…” She never turned as she spoke. “It has been so long since I have seen the light, the dark is all I know.” “The light exists.” There was a splash as he stood, then the sound of his wet feet padding across the room. He spoke softly as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Without the light, there can be no dark. One cannot exist without the other.”

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Sleeping Dragon

- 37 -

For a moment, Garyn leaned back into Youltan’s arms, his unsure and still weak embrace offering her comfort. Then she broke away and turned to face him. “The light does not live here.” She stared into his eyes, and for a moment, he saw years of desolation and loneliness, a pain so deep one could go mad from it. Then she blinked and there was nothing but a pair of pretty eyes framed by pale hair. “Anything left here too long will wither and die. Take that as a lesson, Mage. Death resides within these walls and nothing in your philosophy of love will ever change that. The light does not exist here. Your love will never exist here. Here resides the dark. And nothing you do or say will ever change that. Your light, your love, does not exist.” She tore loose from his light embrace and fled the room, leaving behind one naked and confused Mage.

Chapter Nine Repercussions… Youltan felt his heart stop at those softly spoken words. So much pain, so much despair. It tore something in him. No matter how bad off he had been, no matter how he wished for death to release him from his toils, he had never doubted that there was something better out there, that there was truly love and that it existed for someone, and that it was real and pure. “I guess such things are not meant for those such as us,” he murmured, feeling a deep depression take hold of him. Slowly, he made his way to the towels, wrapping one around his wet hair to sop up the water still dripping from its long tendrils, and after blotting his body, wrapping another around his waist. Softly, he padded into the next room, thinking to find a broken, sad Garyn, as depressed as he now was, but instead he found a grinning, smiling imp. “The cooks were good to us,” she chortled as she raced around the room, preparing a small table with more food than he had ever seen in his life. Youltan found his hand grasped in hers. She led him deeper into the room and seated him at that low table. “You need to eat. I may have been able to get your body temperature up, but you need fuel to help regulate it.” “Are… are you all right?” Youltan wanted to know. How could someone blow so hot one minute, cold the next, and still have a heart that was filled with despair? It was… unnatural. “I am fine, Mas… I am fine, Youltan. And you need to eat.” “You act as if you care.” His words were delivered with a look from beneath his eyelashes. Dare he trust this creature who changed so often?

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Sleeping Dragon

- 39 -

“I care, Youltan. Only if it is to see a wretch almost as abused as me receive some comfort. Where would the world be without its scapegoats to abuse?” “Scapegoats?” “It’s not as if we can escape our fates, Youltan. You will go back to whatever brought you here to this condition, and I will remain here waiting for the next master to come along. That is the way of things.” “That is so -- so self-defeating.” “I don’t have to defeat myself, Youltan,” Garyn sighed. “There are plenty of others lined up to do that. I don’t know why we have to even have this conversation. Nothing will change. Nothing ever changes. In the thousand years that I have been here, nothing has ever changed, and nothing will.” “A thousand years?” Youltan almost choked on the meat he had just placed in his mouth. “You have been living this life for a thousand years?” “Which is why I hadn’t a clue the Ice Mages had disbanded, that the shield was deteriorating, or any news about the outside world.” “But how… Immortal?” “No, we are not immortal, Youltan. Just very long-lived. And believe me, after a thousand years of this existence, it gets to be a bit boring.” Garyn chuckled and smiled at Youltan, motioning him to eat. “But what are you?” He stared curiously at his bedmate, wondering what he had found himself involved with now. Nothing was ever simple in his life. Garyn chuckled again as she picked up a piece of meat and slid the tender morsel between full, pink lips. “It’s simple, Youltan. I am whatever you want me to be.” “How can I tell you to be something when I have no idea what I am?” He sighed and his shoulders slumped as her answer brought him back full circle. “Why am I here?” “Because you were almost dead, and they knew I could heat you enough to ensure your survival.”

Stephanie Burke

Sleeping Dragon

- 40 -

Youltan sat in his chair, head hanging low, and considered Garyn’s words yet again. “I owe you my life, and I here find that you are supposedly indebted to me, Garyn. This does not make sense, as it is I who am indebted to you. I don’t know how I can repay you, but I will try. But just… please? What are you?” He looked up at her, his purple eyes housing a stagnated glow, the glow of a man almost at the end of his wits. “Is it important for you to know?” “Yes,” he said. “You are trapped here, almost as I am trapped in my life, always giving to others, owing to others for what the fates decreed me to be. It is not fair. I will find a way to set you free, Garyn, a life for a life.” It was only fair, Youltan thought as he inhaled deeply. A thousand years was surely punishment enough for whatever Garyn had done to find herself in this predicament. Besides, he was not sure his soul could bear the weight of another debt. But a clatter at the opposite side of the table brought his eyes back up to the shocked Garyn. “What have you done?” she finally hissed, staring at him in horror.

Chapter Ten Revelations… This was not how it was supposed to happen! Garyn’s mind reeled in shock as Youltan looked at her in concern. This was not the way the game worked! She was supposed to manipulate the evil selfish Ice Mage into freeing her! She was supposed to win this mental game he was playing, then there would be no guilt, no obligation when she tricked him. But he was not playing the game! “What’s wrong?” Youltan asked, his face fixed in a confused expression. “What did you say?” She hissed the words, her eyes flickered with red-orange flames. “I said I would find any way to free you. My word is my bond, Garyn. Once a bond is given by any Mage, he would die before breaking it. I will find a way to free you.” “Why?” Her hands scraped at the wood of the table, her nails sinking into the hard wood as her eyes bored into his. “Be-because you were so unselfish in treating me, especially when you didn’t have to.” He eyed Garyn, for the first time showing a frisson of fear. “Your word is your bond! Damn you, Youltan!” She all but screamed as she rose to her feet in fury, knocking over both hot and cold dishes, sending them flying as the table tipped over onto its side. “Do you even know who I am, what I am? And you have bound yourself to me with your words!” “Well, I asked.” Youltan jumped to his feet, nimbly avoiding the flying dishes. “So you know what those markings on my back are?” “I assumed they were a ward of some kind.”

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Sleeping Dragon

- 42 -

Youltan was a man known for his bravery and his quiet nature, and it never showed more as he faced the spitting, hissing creature his bedmate had become. “It is a ward, little Mage! It is a powerful ward placed upon me by the Ice Mages of old.” “That… that is powerful. What happened?” “Not what did I do?” Could this Mage truly be different from the others? Could he actually have an uncluttered nature? “They usually ask what I did to earn such a ward.” “I have no idea what the Mages of old were thinking, Garyn. I was not alive then, and there are always three sides to a story, yours, theirs, and the truth.” “I am bound to a dreamer!” Garyn threw her arms over her face and laughed hysterically, laughed until sobs could be distinguished among the loud gales. “Garyn?” Youltan approached her, one arm extended as he reached out to comfort her. “You foolish, foolish Ice Mage!” She dropped her hands and Youltan paused as her pupils flared a glowing red a second before they became slitted. “You have no idea what you have done!” As she spoke, her voice changed, altered, became deeper, and resonated around the room. Her skin, so soft and pale, began to darken, blood red and dark orange hues racing across it. As Youltan watched in fascinated horror, she began to increase in size, her shrieking laughter almost a harbinger of future doom. She exhaled a puff of white steam that seemed to flow around her body even as it made the room increase in temperature. Then there was smoke, pale and flashing, like the lights when he had changed into a she, that swirled around the increasing mass of her body. Then, like the birth of a waterspout, the smoke shot toward the high ceilings, widening and growing as the sounds of her laughter increased. “Behold, what you have pledged, what you have bonded to free!”

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Sleeping Dragon

- 43 -

There was a bright flash of blinding yellow light and powerful magic that threw Youltan from his feet and across the room. He slammed into the far wall and slid down, his breath leaving his body in an explosion as his eyes slammed shut with the impact. He felt his bones rattle and his muscles straining to hold him together in one piece as the magical backlash stunned his unprepared senses. Finally, his struggling lungs sent an urgent message to his brain and his body forced him to exhale and then to draw in the suddenly humid air. He struggled and forced his eyes open to behold his worst of nightmares towering above him. “Fi-fire Dragon…” he managed, his eyes going impossibly wide as his brain refused to believe what they were beholding. “And you shall be the key to my freedom, little Ice Mage,” the huge scarlet lizard hissed, a puff of white smoke rolling from her huge nostrils. Youltan’s eyes took in the sheer mass of the creature that he had mated with only moments before. Garyn stood at least twelve building stones high, making her at least the height of three full grown men and maybe one more. Her eyes were pearlized silver that seemed to glow with flashes of her inner fire. Her elongated body was covered in shiny red-orange scales that covered her from her massive head to her spear-tipped toes. Across her back lay a set of clear wings, the fibrous membranes supported by a red-gold bone structure that acted as a base, even as the tips that extended beyond the wings acted as an extra set of fingers. Her paws flexed with opposable thumbs, like human hands, only larger and armed with razor-like talons. As he watched, a long, pink tongue curled out of her mouth, flickering around the room as if tasting his scent, reading his fear. He stared in awe as that massive head lowered, the broad spade of a nose resting right in his face. An eye the size of his head peered at him before a puff of smoke obscured his view, scorching the skin of his face. “You, the last of my ancient enemies, will be the key to my freedom.” Garyn spoke in a soft growl, exposing her dagger-like teeth as she chuckled in amusement. “How does it feel to know that you, Ice Mage, are trapped in your vow to free me to

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seek my vengeance upon this world by virtue of the Mages that imprisoned me here in the first place? How does it feel to know that in order to save your own life, such as it is, you must betray all that you have lived and worked at so hard for years? How does it feel to know that the last of the Ice Mages will release what they sought so hard to trap? Through you, little one, I will have my freedom, and when that is obtained, I will have my revenge… all thanks to you.” Youltan had no words. The shock of what he was seeing, what he was avowed to do, was too much for his mind in his body’s weakened state. Before Garyn finished speaking, he passed out cold.

Chapter Eleven Results, Most Undeniable… “Youltan?” There was a pressure against his face, something pressing softly against his skin. That irritating gesture, more so than any calling of his name, was what slowly pulled him from the void where he floated weightless and free. “Hmm…” he managed, not really wanting to speak or to move.

“Open those eyes, pretty boy. We have work to do.”

That voice… nasal and deep.

Garyn!

Youltan’s eyes snapped open and he jerked to a sitting position, frantically

looking around the room for the huge fire lizard that had occupied its confines. His memories flooded back in with his awareness, and along with the awareness came healthy doses of anger and fear. “Glad to see you among the living,” the voice chuckled, and Youltan’s eyes snapped to the left to see the male form of Garyn sitting beside him, bare-chested and grinning as if he had a secret. Hell, Garyn was a secret, but now he was dangerous to the Ice Mage, for he was a secret locked with Youltan through his people’s most sacred bindings. “You tricked me,” he gasped, his eyes narrowing in anger as he stared at the dragon made human. “You offered.” “You deceived me!” “How? By allowing you to believe I was a barely lukewarm human?” “You are male again!”

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“As if I would trust my more delicate feminine form to you in the state you’re in now.” That gave Youltan pause. “I would never hurt you.” “And I know that because?” Silence fell. “I have never harmed anyone.” Garyn rose to his feet only to begin pacing. As he walked, Youltan saw flashes of the massive ward tattooed on his back in thick and thin graceful lines. “I was minding my business, flying along as blithely as can be, when suddenly my world was shattered by a wall of ice.” Comprehension dawned in Youltan’s eyes. “You were trapped when the barrier went up?” “If by trapped, you mean that I was knocked completely out of the sky, yes. Before I could even comprehend what had just happened, I was separated from my parents, my people, my… my life!” “Your people?” “I was their prince, Youltan. I was their princess and the heir to the throne, and the person who was leading the fight to actually enter into negotiations with your kind.” Youltan sucked in a deep breath at that. Negotiations? People? This was not what he nor the others had been led to believe. “We had contacted several of your leaders and were trying to enter into an agreement. Your people misunderstood our use of fire in what you call the badlands. Fire is such a useful tool, Youltan, for more than heating or cooking things. Fire scorches the earth, true, but it also brings about the means for new growth. Good, clean ash is wonderful for the flowering fruits and vegetables, it clears out the dead and diseased forestry, it lends itself for new advances when used properly. No one can harness fire better than a Fire Dragon.” “But the raids, the burning of villages…”

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Garyn shrugged. “We are a warrior race. When one raids our villages, do you not expect us to raid back?” Youltan could say nothing about that. Raids were a constant way of life and accepted, so long as no serious injuries or loss of life were incurred. “So why?” “You said it best, Ice Mage. You fear what you don’t understand. And what you don’t understand…” “You kill,” Youltan breathed, understanding in his heart, even though the feeling of betrayal in the pit of his stomach continued to grow. “That’s right. You kill. And if you can’t kill, you imprison and hide away, as though if you can’t see it, then the problem never existed.” “I wish I could find fault with your reasoning,” Youltan said. “But I fear your words are very accurate.” “Damn right they are accurate, Mage,” Garyn growled. “I am living proof.” Youltan motioned to the wards on Garyn’s back as he stopped pacing and turned to face him. “Your wards. Can I read them?” Garyn’s gaze hardened as he examined the Mage closely. “What chicanery are you planning, Mage?” He arched one eyebrow. “You do know I can kill you with a thought?” Youltan smiled. “Not if what I am reading on your wards is accurate.” A standoff. With a sniff, Garyn turned his back to Youltan and waited to see what his bound Mage was going to do with this new knowledge. He flinched as he felt the Mage’s cool, soft hands caress the skin of his back, just lightly running along the sides, his thumbs gently sliding along his spine, his fingers tracing the slightly raised runes and glyphs. “Bound by a key,” Youltan murmured, reading silently the words inked in the ancient language of the Ice Mages. “Which means that there is a release for you, Garyn. We just need the proper key.”

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Sleeping Dragon

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“Release,” Garyn breathed as if the word was foreign to him. “Freedom by other means than death.” “Oh, death would not release you from this ward, Dragon.” Youltan lowered his hands. “This warding would have trapped your soul here for an eternity. Be glad that you did not choose the way of cowards and fools, for whoever bound you meant for you to stay bound.” Youltan was surprised and slightly nauseated at the level of bindings placed in the tattooed ward. Whoever devised this was malicious and sure. He could feel the fear and rage that the designer filled the magical restraints with, a determination to do what in his estimation was correct. “But you can free me?” Garyn asked. For the first time in his captivity, a sliver of hope appeared before his cynical mind could crush it. “You swore! Do not find yourself foresworn, Mage.” “I will help you, Garyn. I will free you. My word is my bond. I just need time to decipher the hidden meanings in the warding and spells.” Garyn turned to face his Mage, and a small bit of sympathy for the man’s condition made him roll his eyes and come to a decision. “We will work on this tomorrow, Mage. You’ve barely eaten and you are scarce recovered from your ordeals before you were given into my tender care.” “Tender care? You turned into a huge lizard, Garyn. A huge lizard that spits fire and threatened my very existence. You call that tender?” “I call it expedient.” Garyn chuckled as he reached out one hand for the Mage’s. “And for now, as we are bound together, surely as I am bound to this place, let us at least attempt to aid one another. You need rest and I need to think.” “Rest sounds good.” Youltan sighed as the weight of these new burdens settled upon his shoulders. “I will think better after sleep.” “Then let us sleep.” Youltan looked into the eyes of the creature that now stood before him, holding out his hand as if it were a peace offering. He knew that the dragon would not harm

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him now that he needed a Mage to break the curse of his bindings. For now, he was safe. But as he looked up at the unusual creature he was indeed bound to by word and vow, he felt an unused-to twinge in the pit of his stomach. No matter what Garyn was, male, female, or lizard, he was extremely attractive. And now, with him standing there with his bare chest and his engaging smile, Youltan felt an unwelcome jolt of attraction and arousal. After all that’s happened, he berated himself. You find yourself stimulated by this manipulator? It’s because I am in a state of exhaustion. It will look different in the morning. Sighing, he placed his hand in Garyn’s and allowed the other man to ease him to his feet. Before he could move, however, he felt his body being tugged forward and then Garyn’s arms were around his back and behind his knees, lifting him swiftly. He scarce blinked as he was carried across the room and lowered into the soft, cool sheets, his towel tugged from around his hips. Almost instantly, his body began to shiver, trying to produce some warmth to ease him into slumber, but his core temperature was still too low. He closed his eyes, resigned to spending another night of misery without the body heat of his two servants or Garyn, but a shifting of the covers made his head rise. Rolling his eyes, Garyn lifted the blankets covering the Mage and slid in beside him. “I can hear your bones rattling from across the room,” he said, reaching for the Mage and pulling him close. “I have heat to spare.” Youltan sighed happily at the almost scalding heat that poured off his dragon. He closed his eyes and snuggled in closer, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible, closing his eyes as the heat began to penetrate him. “Warm,” he all but purred in his sleepy voice, resting his head on Garyn’s chest. “Blessedly warm.” “Silly Mage,” Garyn growled, but his tones were as warm as his skin, and he held the Mage closer.

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Sleeping Dragon

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He would assist his Mage until he was free. He might even spare the man his wrath. But for now, it was best to keep the man healthy. That, at least, is what he told himself. It had nothing to do with the man’s almost gullible and kind nature. And it definitely had nothing to do with the growing attraction he felt for the Mage. In helping Youltan, he helped himself. At least, that was what he reasoned. And before he fell asleep, he wondered if even he believed his reasoning.

Chapter Twelve Epiphany… Again, Youltan awoke with a bloated erection and wondered if this would now be a daily occurrence. Or it could be, he reasoned, the result of his bed partner spooned enticingly before him. So, he had had one of the most… He had had the most fulfilling… the only sexual experience of his life… and his partner was a lizard. He should have known something like this was going to happen the minute she’d spouted that forked tongue, but he’d placed that worry to the side in the rush of passion and hunger. Maybe he should have figured that Garyn was more than met the eye when he turned into a she, but again, he was taken away by the sheer beauty of the creature. Now, he lay against a male version of that beauty and again found himself growing hard and pressed against his ass. This would have been so very confusing to his sexuality if he had developed in the way of so many warriors and close-minded villages that inhabited this plane. But because he was reared with the esoteric and the strange, this was just another facet of his longing for the red-eyed dragon that shared this bed. He knew he should be concentrating on runes and deception and the demands placed upon him by his erstwhile bedmate, but all he could think about was her… his… spicy scent, the feel of that soft skin, and the fact that a set of well-rounded cheeks cradled his erection perfectly. What was a Mage to do? Before his brain demanded its fair portion of blood back and forced his body to action, the decision was taken away from him.

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“Ohh! Another gift for me?” The words were spoken into the pillow as a lithe back arched against his chest. Instantly, he felt his nipples harden at the gentle caress, and his hands tightened around a slim, muscular waist. “Gift?” he managed, shuddering as those rounded cheeks began to tighten and grind against his groin. “This is a present, Mage. I go dragon on you and you still find me attractive enough to fuck. I must have a great body.” “I believe it is more the personality that is trapped within the body, Garyn.” Youltan’s hips gave an involuntary thrust as his partner kept teasing him. “You like abrasive, cynical people?” “I like demanding, hungry, spicy-smelling people,” Youltan corrected, his hands growing brave enough to seek around those muscular hips and tease at the growing erection pressed against Garyn’s stomach. “After all I have done --” “I like determination,” Youltan cut him off. “I like variety and I am discovering that I love being scalded by your heat.” Garyn purred his answer as his lover’s hand tightened around his cock and gave an experimental pump. “Ohh, harder, Mage,” Garyn whispered, sighing and drawing his legs apart, raising one a bit to give Youltan more complete access. “And play with my balls. I really like that.” Chuckling, Garyn dropped his head back and looked over his shoulder at his mate, wondering how his words and his current sex affected him. He knew that Youltan had a few issues with him being male in the beginning of their assignation, but it seemed that the Mage had gotten over that quickly in the rush of sex and passion. “Really?” Youltan mused. “I never really thought that testicles could be an erogenous zone. But then, I never really had an erection until yesterday. Hard or soft?

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Sleeping Dragon

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Gripping or tugging? I don’t want to cause you pain, and it seems to me that your balls would be a painful area to misjudge a caress.” Garyn exploded in laughter at Youltan’s almost clinical description of ball play. “Tug gently, roll them in your palms, and when we get a bit more experience, you can tongue them and suck them within your hot little mouth.” Youltan must have liked the idea because his cock gave a little lurch and a small spurt of pre-cum lubricated the crease of Garyn’s ass, making Youltan’s cock slide easier against the sensitive flesh. Saying nothing, Youltan complied, his hand dropping to the throbbing shaft so much like and yet so different from his own, and cupped the thick, full balls of his partner. Garyn’s breath hissed from between his teeth, his whole body shuddering in pleasure. “I think I like this,” Youltan whispered, his curiosity coming to the forefront as he moved back and flipped his partner onto his back. Garyn writhed in pleasure, spreading his legs out and thrusting his hips upward, making his hard cock bob and sway. “I have something for you to like,” he purred, looking at Youltan from beneath his long lashes as his head rolled from side to side on the pillows. Grinning, and remembering what Garyn had done to him in female form, Youltan lowered his head and sucked one of Garyn’s nipples deep into his mouth, licking and biting the red tip. “Oh, Gods, yes,” Garyn whimpered, his legs falling apart further and his hands tangled in his lover’s long, purple hair. The feel of that fall of silk surrounding his body made Garyn close his eyes in glee. The pleasure-pain that Youltan was inflicting to one, then the other nipple made loud whimpers and whines roll from his throat. All too soon, the Mage was licking lower, tasting his skin and tracing his muscles with a curious tongue.

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“You still taste spicy,” Youltan breathed against the wet skin he was devouring. “Different slightly, but still spicy.” Garyn chuckled, but that turned into a strangled shriek as, without warning, Youltan sucked the leaking tip of his cock deep into his mouth. “Holy Mages!” Garyn cried out as Youltan began suckling at the tip of his swollen cock. Youltan was curious about his cock, so like his in length and girth. He focused on the swollen purple head that didn’t have the protective cowl he had been born with. It made his cock look different, but enticing. As he watched, the heart-shaped head turned a deep shade of red-purple and began to leak a clear fluid. He remembered his cock doing something similar, and how eagerly Garyn had lapped his juices up. He wanted to try the same thing, remembering how he wanted to sample the thick fluid expelled from Garyn’s pussy when he was a she. Deciding that now was the time for action, he dropped his head and took the swollen knob between his lips again. He pulled off the shuddering Garyn long enough to mutter, “Salty and spicy,” before he returned to his fleshly treat.

Garyn was going mad beneath Youltan’s mouth. It had been so long since someone, anyone, had wrapped their lips around his cock that he had forgotten how intense the feeling was. He looked down just as Youltan remembered one of the pleasures he experienced in the more experienced hands of his lover. Youltan peered up at Garyn, showing his enjoyment of this act clearly in his eyes and he moaned low and deep. “Oh, Gods!” Garyn whimpered, then jerked upwards as Youltan took a careful grip again on his balls and gave them a tug. “Oh, please, please, please,” he heard himself beg as Youltan attempted to swallow the head of his straining cock. “Easy, baby,” he found himself whispering when Youltan gagged on the thick length he was trying to stuff down his throat. “Easy. Take as much as you can. Don’t force it.”

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Sleeping Dragon

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Youltan followed the advice, increasing the suction and the tongue action, and sent Garyn once again off into sputtering and stammering gibberish. Garyn’s reactions sent more than a shaft of pleasure and a great feeling of power through him. Youltan felt that he had control of the world, or at least control of one firebreathing dragon. Garyn looked so delicious, his skin shining with sweat, his head tossed back, his mouth open and gasping for breath as Youlton sent more erotic delights to torment his lithe body. It was a heady feeling. Slowly, he pulled away, knowing that there had to be a way inside his delicious body, but not wanting to hurt his partner. “Why do you stop?” Garyn whined, the loss of the pleasure-giving mouth drawing him from the pinnacle of release. “I want inside,” Youltan whispered. “But I don’t want to harm you.” “Easy, my sweet Mage,” Garyn chuckled. He spread his legs wide and arched his hips up, exposing his rear passage to his lover’s curious eyes. “I am self-lubricating when I want it. No need to wait. Stretch me and then fill me. I want to be drilled to this bed, Youltan. I want to feel you deep inside me.” Youltan’s whole body shook at those words, and he immediately made a place for himself between his lover’s wide-flung legs. Edging his balls out of his way, he gently ran one finger around Garyn’s rosebud, amazed that the tiny, pink, star-shaped opening would accept his thick length. He looked up into Garyn’s eyes, amazed that the man would place himself in such a vulnerable position, and at the enjoyment he seemed to get out of the penetration. “Use another finger,” Garyn demanded, his breath rasping from between his lips. “Push them both in! Gods, get me ready, Youltan! I have to have you inside me!” Youltan complied, grinning at the hot, wet feel of his lover’s internal muscles rippling around his fingers. Wondering what this almost liquid sensation would feel like around his cock, he added another finger and pressed them in deeply.

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“Youltan,” Garyn hissed, his head whipping from side to side. “This is so good, so damn good!” He pressed down on the fingers invading him, wishing for something thicker as his body reacted to being taken. Youltan was fascinated, wondering if he would feel the pleasure that his dragon was obviously feeling. He added another finger, pausing when a shrill scream erupted from Garyn’s mouth. “Gods, did I hurt…” “Take me!” Garyn screamed, bucking underneath his lover. “Take me now! Fill me! Fuck me! Youltan!” Unable to resist that pretty invitation, Youltan slipped his fingers free and positioned his weeping cock at Garyn’s entrance. “Now!” the dragon demanded, his skin glowing red as steam began to flow from his mouth. His eyes snapped open, a fiery, demanding red, and his hands latched onto Youltan’s shoulders, the long nails digging into his skin. Sucking in his breath for control, Youltan pressed the head of his cock against that small rosebud, gasping as the muscles relaxed and he pressed deeply inside. “Oh, bless me!” Youltan muttered. “Garyn!” The tight heat was intense. He had never felt anything like this before. Not even Garyn’s female form was this tight and hot. Tears flooded his eyes as his mate bucked beneath him, driving him inches deeper inside his gripping channel. “Fuck me!” Garyn hissed, his head snapping back as more and more of Youltan surged into his body. His head whipped on the pillow, his nails digging so deeply that they drew blood, his inner muscles stretching like they had never been stretched before. Finally, Youltan bottomed out, the sparse hairs of his pubis mingling with his lover’s, his balls resting gently on that upturned, rounded ass.

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Sleeping Dragon

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“Gods, I can feel your heartbeat,” he whispered, and Garyn hissed in response. Slowly, he pulled out, only to have his mate’s legs latch around his waist, jerking him back in. “Fuck me hard!” Garyn demanded, and Youltan could not resist. He pulled out and slammed back inside, closing his eyes and fighting for control as his mate screamed aloud his ecstasy. Again and again, he pounded into Garyn, eventually pulling his legs from around his waist and positioning them over his shoulders so he could go that much deeper. As for Garyn, he growled and hissed and screamed as his hard cock was trapped between their two heaving bodies. Sweat flowed and coated their skin, easing the friction and making them slide deliciously against one another. “Ga-Garyn,” Youltan hissed, his hips moving faster and faster in a pounding rhythm despite all attempts to control himself. “I can feel it coming! I am not going to last!” He closed his eyes and his breath began to pant as his hands fisted in the sheets beside his lover’s head. Garyn forced a hand between the two of them, gripping his own scalding hot cock, squeezing the swollen shaft and running his thumb over the soaking wet, slick head. He began to pump his fist in time with Youltan’s thrusts. “Let it go!” he cried as he felt his body reach a fevered pitch. His balls drew up and every time Youltan bottomed out, he felt his sweet spots being slammed. “Gods, fuck me, Youltan! Make me feel every inch of that cock!” That did it! Like a man possessed, Youltan began to slam and grind his partner, surprised that he had lasted that long. As before, he felt a glowing tendril of cold make its way through his body, zinging through his balls and down his shaft. “Garyn!” he bellowed as he felt his inner tension break and the cold flash from his body and into that of his heaving mate. “Garyn, Garyn. Gods, Garyn!” he cried over and over as he felt his balls tighten and he shot spurt after spurt through the cold wave and into his lover’s hot body.

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Sleeping Dragon

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Garyn was a few moments behind as the cold struck his inner core, pushing him over the edge. He screamed and froze as his cock began to spew his seed all over his chest, his legs tightening around his mate’s neck as his inner muscles rippled around Youltan’s satisfied member. For a moment, they both stayed frozen in that position, locked in an almost frightening passion, and then they both seemed to wilt. “Youltan,” Garyn whispered. His legs slid from around the Ice Mage’s shoulders to cradle his trembling hips. He lifted one hand to caress his lover’s face, pushing back the long, purple tinted silvery white tendrils that stuck to his sweat-dampened skin, exposing those brilliant expressive eyes. “Garyn, that was… that was…” Youltan shook his head, unable to discover the words that would cover the emotions he was feeling. “Perfect,” Garyn sighed, shifting his weight so that he eased his lover out of him, holding back his whimper of disappointment as he was abruptly emptied of his lover’s heat. “Yeah,” Youltan breathed. “Perfect.” “And in fifteen minutes,” the dragon joked, the emotion of the moment becoming too intense for him. He was beginning to… feel things for the Ice Mage. That was not good. It almost scared him. “Fifteen,” Youltan murmured, snuggling into Garyn’s side, closing his eyes, utterly replete. “Fifteen minutes,” Garyn continued, “I am going to shift forms and you are going to do it again.” “Ah, Garyn,” Youltan spoke, his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “As a dragon, am I not a bit small to satisfy your hunger?” Garyn smirked.

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Sleeping Dragon

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“Who said anything about my dragon form? I am changing into a woman and you are going to bury your face in my pussy and eat me like I was your last meal, Ice Mage. Females can have multiple orgasms, and if the loving gets better than this, I expect a dozen out of you!” That said, Garyn closed his eyes and settled into a restorative slumber, leaving his lover wide-eyed and a bit confused. “Multiples?” “Double digits,” Garyn assured him. “Now, rest up. I have better uses for your energy than having inane conversations.” “Multiples,” Youltan whispered again, then grinned. He wondered if sex shifting could be a power that an Ice Mage held. Fourteen minutes and ten seconds later, as he buried his face between feminine thighs, a more delicate scent and taste filling his mouth and his senses, Youltan decided that he really didn’t care.

Chapter Thirteen Translation… Youltan stared down at the feminine back that lay so trustingly before him. He felt his cock rise at the tempting sight of Garyn’s feminine curves and delicate lines, but the hard dark reality of the ward imprinted on that delicate skin brought his mind back to the job at hand. He carefully leaned over Garyn, his damp hair trailing across her back for a moment, making her giggle and the muscles of her back shift erotically. But he quickly pushed his hair behind his back and admonished her to lie still. “I have to do this carefully, Garyn,” he complained. “Your squirming is not making this any easier.” “You are an accomplished Ice Mage,” Garyn chuckled. “You are accomplished enough to control your icy nature while you are riding me to a racing finish, therefore you are accomplished enough to read that damnable ward despite a few jerks from me. Besides, it is you who is causing my movements with the use of that silky purple hair.” Garyn’s indignant huff was belied by the humor in her voice as she finally settled down. “That is the most I have heard out of you in one go,” Youltan chuckled. “It appears your feminine form is more talkative than your masculine one.” “It appears that the great Ice Mage is stalling,” she called in a singsong voice, readjusting a pillow under her head so that she could turn to stare at him. And turn she did, her head going a bit further than a normal human’s as her eyes shot a red glare at him.

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Sleeping Dragon

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“Ugh!” Youltan jumped back a bit, staring at the sight of the naked young lady lying in his bed with her head turned almost to the back. “Don’t do that! It looks strange.” “I am a dragon,” Garyn chuckled, but obediently turned her head back to the side and settled on her pillow. “It is in my nature to check my back when strange entities are behind me.” “You can shift sex and you are calling me strange?” “You have purple hair and eyes and are calling me strange?” Garyn returned, rolling her eyes even though the Mage could not see from his vantage. “You can turn your head almost to your back!” Youltan sniffed. “That is strange.” “Yeah,” Garyn hissed, “but at least I don’t whimper and purr like an arctic cat when I come.” “I should be so lucky,” Youltan snorted. “You hiss and your tongue gets forked.” “You liked it wrapped around your cock, Mage.” Garyn’s voice dropped into a sexy purr and she gave a full body shudder, her skin rippling enticingly as her hips began to grind into the mattress. Youltan stared at the tight, squirming body and felt his temperature rise all on its own. Critical blood needed for thought rushed to his cock, and he felt himself begin to harden. “You win,” he breathed, his eyes never leaving her winding hips even as her head turned to that unnatural degree to balefully stare at him. “You are so easy!” Garyn chuckled, before settling down again and stilling her motions. “But I will grant that you are skillful for a newly plucked virgin.” “Um, thank you,” Youltan stuttered, a blush suffusing his cheeks as he gave an embarrassed squirm of his own. “Not flattery,” Garyn continued. “Not everyone can make me expose so much of my true form while in the middle of mating. My tongue has not shifted in centuries.

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Thank you for that, for caring enough about your bed partner to ensure that he or she reaches completion.” Youltan didn’t know what to say to these pretty compliments, so he ignored them and brought his mind back to the ward. Leaning over Garyn, he began a more thorough translation of the warnings and bindings that trapped Garyn in his velvet prison. With gentle fingers, he ran his hands along the written runes, murmuring out loud in a rather guttural language that defied description. “Sacrifice again,” he sighed after an hour or so of intense scrutiny. “You keep saying that.” Garyn sighed, twisting her head again. “What exactly does it mean?” “Well.” Youltan sat up, moaning as he stretched back muscles that were strained after being in his bent over position for so long. “It calls for a willing sacrifice.” “As opposed to an unwilling one?” Garyn twisted and sat up, her bare breasts rosy and creased with pressure lines from lying against the pillows. Unthinkingly, Youltan reached out and began to massage those little lines away, wanting to bring some sort of comfort to his lover. “Yes, there can be unwilling sacrifices. I am an unwilling conduit for the amount of energy that I channel when I use Major Ice Magic. It drains my life force and causes me injury. I do it, but inside I resist it. That makes my actions an unwilling sacrifice. Usually, only a sacrifice is needed, willing or no. But whoever created this particular ward didn’t want anyone around you to feel sorry for you and offer up sacrifice to aid your cause. They would do, but it takes a certain level of self-mortification to offer a truly willing sacrifice. It has to be for the soul. Most would sacrifice something, but an offer of their very souls to aid someone? Not too many would indulge.” “And they put me in the perfect place to ensure that no one would be willing to do such a thing. No one ever gets too concerned over a whore.” Even as she spoke, Garyn leaned deeper into Youltan’s caresses. It wasn’t bluntly sexual by any means, but the massaging touches were intimate.

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Sleeping Dragon

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“You are more than a whore, Garyn.” Youltan halted his caresses and gripped Garyn’s shoulders tightly. “You are a wonderful being with a kind heart, even if you choose to hide it behind that façade of cold-hearted, uncaring wretch.” “Did you have to say wretch?” Garyn groused, trying to ignore the warm feelings that Youltan’s words produced. “I have you know that I am one who is…” “Full of dragon guano.” Garyn froze at Youltan’s words, then the laughter exploded from her mouth despite all attempts to stop it. Youltan stared at the rather fetching dragon rolling around the bed in laughter and couldn’t help feeling just a small bit smug. This Garyn, the laughing, joking, sarcastic creature, he was sure was the real Garyn. It took a lot of work to get through some of the defenses, but this creature, he discovered, was worth the effort. “So, what kind of willing sacrifice is needed?” Garyn asked, after pulling her amusement under control. “Blood, flesh, magic?” “Life.” “Excuse me?” Garyn froze and sat up straight, her pale red eyes honing in on Youltan. “It would have to be a willing life force sacrifice, Garyn. That is the only thing powerful enough to shatter the protective wards, and that is why they chose this prison for you. You spoke truly earlier, but you also need to know that that is where the Mages made their greatest mistake.” “No, they didn’t, Youltan,” Garyn sighed, the warmth of hope in her chest fizzling out as again the Ice Mages’ cruel actions mutilated the heat before it could turn into a full blaze. “I will never be free of this place, and you shall be foresworn for trying to assist me.” Garyn looked so depressed and broken then, that it almost brought tears to Youltan’s eyes. “No, I shall not be foresworn, Garyn. I have promised to help and help is indeed just what I shall do.”

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But Garyn was now reveling in this new hurt, this new pain that was greater even than when she discovered she was bound in this castle. And it was all Youltan’s fault! He had touched her cold heart and rekindled the flames of belief. He had given her hope. He had made her believe. And now, once again, her world was destroyed and it hurt so much more than before because she had actually begun to believe in the Mage. “Damn you, Ice Mage,” she hissed, smoke rolling from her nostrils as she fought back tears of anger and frustration. She had been so close… so close to escape. “Damn you for putting this hope in my heart and then dashing it to pieces!” “Your hope is not lost, Garyn.” Youltan again reached out and touched the creature who was trapped in so much frustration and rage that it almost became palpable. “You shall be free.” “The only creatures willing to make such a sacrifice are family, Youltan. See you any of my family members here? See you any mother or father, aunt or uncle, sister or brother? I don’t even have a mate, Youltan! Tell me, Youltan, who would sacrifice so much for one such as me?” “I would.” That statement, spoken without hesitation and ringing with truth, filled Garyn’s ears and stilled her frantic mind. Pale red eyes searched purple ones for answers, for reassurance, for anything to prove to her that this Mage’s words were not in jest. “You will?” Hope began to blaze again, even as worry for the Mage began to seep into the banked embers of her heart. “I will, Garyn. I swore an oath to see you free, and that is what I will do.” “Oh,” Garyn breathed, a little sadly. “For your oath.” When had this human’s intentions begun to mean so much to her? When did she begin to care? She was going to be free anyway, so why did it matter that pride and honor moved him, not any real want to see her free? His sacrifice made her feel most guilty for her planned manipulations, but her heart ached just a little, at the reminder that his actions were

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motivated by nothing more than Ice Mage pride and honor, and actually had little to do with her as a living, breathing being that he was growing to care for. “Not for any oath.” Youltan gave Garyn a little shake, bringing her eyes back to his. “Not for anything as unworthy as that, Garyn. My willing sacrifice comes from an honest desire to set the only person who ever truly cared for me, free.” “I… I-I-I…” Garyn stuttered as she read the truth behind the Mage’s words. She didn’t know what to say. “I…” “I willingly sacrifice for you, Garyn, because I have come to care for you. It is by no means love, for I am not even sure I am capable of the emotion. But I care for you as I have never cared for another. My servants are with me out of a sense of obligation. The villagers tolerate me for what I can do for them. No one ever took the time to even treat me as a human being. You have given me some hope for humanity in your actions, Garyn. How can I not repay the creature who has given me part of myself back again?” “Youltan.” Then she was in his arms, and her scalding hot tears caressed his chest. She never even heard him whisper, “It’s not like my life is worth living, anyway.” So Garyn held onto her Mage, and she cried tears of joy. Not for the freedom she was about to receive, but because he truly cared. He was the key to her freedom, and she decided that she might not be able to let him make this sacrifice after all, for she discovered that she cared as well.

Chapter Fourteen Sacrifice and Understanding… It was decided that any further decision-making could be put off until after a meal. So, between the two of them, Youltan and Garyn put away a huge afternoon meal that filled both of their bellies as well as giving them time to think. Also with the meal came news of Youltan’s two servants, Dele and Rese. The two were well and being cared for by the denizens of the castle. Youltan sent a message that his two servants should meet with him that night and silently began plans to break the ward. Garyn, on the other hand, was making preparations to render the Mage unconscious and send him on his way with his two servants. If there were a way to prevent Youltan from being foresworn, he would discover it. He finally decided to use a bit of Mage trickery, in that Youltan had never set a time limit for the wards to be broken. He mentally began to devise a letter of explanation to be opened when Youltan’s servants got him far away from this castle and too far away for any temptations to race back and assist him. If Youltan was feeling kindly disposed to him, then maybe he could find someone willing to part with a piece of their soul to help aid a dragon. If not, then at least he would be content that Youltan was left alive, and that there was at least one decent person walking this plane of existence. After the meal was eaten and digested, Youltan asked Garyn to lay and rest, to prepare for the warding to be removed. “The markings will always be there, that is a matter of the physical form,” he informed his lover. “But the magic which holds you bound to the runes will be shattered.”

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“I thank you, Youltan.” Garyn smiled. “Thank you for everything.” “I have done nothing but attempt to correct a wrong that my people perpetrated.” In so saying, Youltan laid his hand upon Garyn’s back and began to mutter his mantra, to clear his head of all thought. “What do you do?” “I am sending my magic into the runes, to ensure there are no nasty surprises lying in wait for the person who attempts to undo it.” “Nasty surprises?” Now Garyn was a bit worried. What nasty surprises could come out of his back? “Well, there are instantaneous death spells, nodes of knowledge that will either give instruction or warnings, and there could be counter spells used to turn against the rune’s reader.” “All of that by runes?” Garyn actually raised up a bit before Youltan’s hands pressed him back down. “Yes, though I believe that there is only a warning placed here. I will read it and then we will see what secrets are there to be unlocked.” Youltan closed his eyes and tried to envision the runes, to read them with his magic, to picture them in his mind’s eye. The runes appeared to glow a bright ice blue, the signature of Ice Magic. Of all the elemental magics, ice was the wildest and the hardest to control. He imagined himself before the glowing runes, following along the arching path they created across Garyn’s back, searching for any inconsistencies. Just as he was about to withdraw, he stumbled across a rune printed in double. If he had not been paying attention, he would have missed the extra shadow that the looping, ancient words cast along Garyn’s pale skin. Mentally, he sent out a tendril of energy, testing the runes for malicious intent, when suddenly he was pulled in.

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In the mortal plane, Youltan’s body jerked and froze in place, signaling to Garyn that something was wrong with his Mage. Garyn turned his head and immediately scrambled from underneath Youltan’s hands. He raced to the bell cords and yanked hard, summoning the Ice Mage’s two assistants, before he raced to Youltan’s side once more. As he watched with horrified eyes, a layer of ice began to form and grow around the Mage’s outstretched hand. The ice, a pale, glowing blue, seemed to suck the heat out of the area that surrounded Youltan. For his part, the Ice Mage was as still as death, his purple eyes glowing eerily as, with each exhale, frost coated his face and swirled around his head to freeze his hair. “Youltan! Youltan!” Garyn cried out, reaching out to grip the Mage’s shoulders, but pulling back with a hiss. His hand received a painful ice burn when his fingers made contact with his flesh. He blew warm breath onto his fingers, shaking them to return circulation as the two servants entered the room. Dele and Rese almost bowled him over, racing to the side of their master. “What have you done to him?” Dele growled, turning angry eyes to the small female who stood looking so stricken. “I’ve done nothing! He was reading the runes on my back… and then -- and then…” “Your back?” Rese questioned, a bit calmer than his partner, but just as intense. “Yes. He was reading the runes on my back.” Before Garyn could move, Dele gripped her shoulders and spun her around, gasping as he took in the basic reading of the runes. “Cursed!” Dele hissed, shoving the anxious Garyn away. “You are cursed!” “Oh, damn your words!” Garyn hissed, catching her balance from where Dele had flung her and turning to face the two servants. Her eyes glowed red as the temperature in the room increased. “And touch me again at your own peril. I called you here to assist him.”

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Both Dele and Rese retreated to the side of their master, watching in growing horror as the ice continued to spread, covering his arms and moving toward his body. “Do something!” Rese demanded of Dele. The ice continued to grow, until Youltan’s whole body was covered in a thin transparent sheet. And all they could do was stand by and watch in horror.

*** “Where am I?’ Youltan asked, staring around the bright blue room that seemed to have formed around him. “What is this place?” “This is a place of knowledge,” a voice boomed, making him spin around, looking for the source. But all he saw were walls of ice blue. “Where are you?” “We are no more,” another voice added sadly. “We are the gathered knowledge of the Ice Mages, knowledge that has been gathered throughout years through each of our demises, and transferred here, to this rune of power, in hopes that someday someone would see our folly and seek to undo it.” “Your folly?” Youltan questioned, knowing instinctively that this had something to do with Garyn. “Our perfidy,” still another voice added. “Our arrogance, our unwillingness to ask questions, our willingness to believe the tangled webs of deceit that the corrupt politicians in this plane were willing to share with us.” “There are no politicians anymore,” Youltan said sadly. “They have all gone the way of the ancients, the way of the Ice Mages, the Water Mages, the Sky Mages. Only minor Earth Mages remain, and they live in their separate villages with little or no contact with outsiders. I only know as much as I do because I repair the shields that…” “Our biggest folly!” another voice shouted. “That damnable shield. Know you, little one, that we believed we were to be under attack by the Fire Dragons to the East? We were informed that there was an invasion headed in our direction, that the talks between the two races had failed. The politicians feared what the dragons would bring,

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they feared retribution for the many raids they led on their outlying farms and villages. We did not even know that they could take on a human form when the shields were enabled and this young one trapped.” “And what a hellish existence you trapped him in,” Youltan growled, feeling for his friend who was nothing more than a victim of the deceit of those who sat in the seat of power. “We are but merely a collected consciousness, young Mage, knowledge gathered as each of the Great Ice Mages passed, stored knowledge made energy, waiting for someone to tap into it.” “So you just are?” Youltan asked, already knowing the answer. “We just are.” “So why the sacrifice?” “At the time, we feared invasion from the powerful Mages of the East, the draconic people. Only Ice Magic was wild and unpredictable enough to contain the heat the invaders brought. This young one was trapped, then captured to serve as a warning to others that tried to penetrate our fields. But then after the wards were laid, we began to question the intent of the politicians. This creature was intelligent and civil, even after we tattooed his unwilling flesh. So we questioned him, and the answers we received did not fit the information we were told.” “So you questioned the politicians in charge…” “And they spread false accusations of our attempt at conquering the known lands in this plane. They accused us of growing mad with power and spread lies of our supposed atrocities done in the name of magic. The people turned on us, refused to listen to what we had to say. So we planned on righting our wrong by bringing down the shields. The politicians twisted our actions to make it seem as if we were using the destruction of the shield as a threat to gain control of the civilized lands. The frightened people’s retribution was swift. We were united to the last. But some of us remembered the combined magic that went into the creation of this ward, and we shadowed a rune, altering it to contain all the knowledge that we possess. In doing so, we were giving an

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explanation and knowledge of the key to our salvation, to correct the wrongs that we in our foolhardiness and arrogance committed.” “And I am that key.” Youltan sighed. “You are the last Mage,” spoke a voice that Youltan would never forget. “Master…” he breathed, looking around the room, uncertainty filling his mind. “You are that key, Youltan. That is why I trained you thusly. You have the power to right this wrong, if you are willing to take the risks.” “You know I am willing.” “Good. Only a truly willing sacrifice can end this dragon’s curse. And with the breaking of this ward, may he live to bring the ice shields down.” “I am willing,” Youltan stated again. “I was willing before I obtained this knowledge, and I am still willing now that I have achieved an understanding.” “Then let your sacrifice be known,” still another voice spoke. “Let the world, the corrupt leaders, let the Mages of this land know of your willing sacrifice. Let the freedom of this young dragon serve as a harbinger of change.” “Let it be!” Youltan cried out, then gasped as he was struck in the chest with a blinding white light. Energy, untold levels of energy, the powers of all the fallen Ice Mages slammed into his chest. His mouth opened, yet no sound emerged as the powerful blast lifted him off his feet in the mortal world, and shattered the ice that had coated his body. “Let it be!” he gasped again, falling back into his self, his body trembling and filling with power as the Key to the Runes accepted his position and made known his willing sacrifice.

Chapter Fifteen Paying the Debt… The scream was loud enough to shatter the main portcullis in the castle, yet it only shattered a few stained glass windows. Still, the effect it had on Dele, Rese, and Garyn was completely different. Dele and Rese clamped their hands over their heads as pain threatened to rip their skulls asunder, but Garyn was struck mute where she stood. Youltan’s relentless shriek continued to roll from his throat as his body began to levitate from the floor. His hair rose up in an unseen wind to create a white purpletinted nimbus that surrounded his body. His head dropped back and his whole body arched upwards impossibly high, the thin robe covering his body parting to reveal his pale flesh. And still he screamed. A pale blue light began to gather in the center of his body, the gathering of his life force’s energy, which turned the room into a kaleidoscope of blues, golds, reds, and oranges. Chaotic, wild energy surrounded him, zipped around his body in ice-blue streaks as his life’s energy formed a huge ball and lifted from the center of his chest. Only when the pulsing ball that represented his soul rose totally free from his body did the piercing scream stop. Outside the huge doors of the suite came the frantic pounding of the caretakers, but the energy that filled the room with bright light also sealed it. Slowly, Dele and Rese removed their hands from their ears and gazed around the room questioningly.

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Youltan floated inches from the ground, his bare body still streaked with blue energy. While his body was no longer in that painful arch, it still hung listlessly in the air, turning in lazy circles as anticipation and pressure once again began to fill the room. Garyn was still struck dumb, as her gaze seemed to be attached to the near naked form of her lover. Her red glowing eyes seemed to pulse to the beat of the intermitted flashes inside the soul energy orb that continued to slowly rise from Youltan’s chest. Just as the pressure built so high that the normal humans’ ears were about to explode, the ball of energy glowed painfully bright, then streaked across the room, striking Garyn in the center of her chest. As soon as contact was established, Youltan opened his mouth again, and a roar of pain shook the room. Tears fell from his eyes, only to freeze before they could fall as the white glow of Ice Magic followed the orb, flowing from his eyes and his mouth, striking the stunned dragon as well. But instead of tossing her back to violently hit the wall behind her, the energy lifted and spun Garyn around. Her tattooed back seemed to absorb the Ice Magic, making the runes that decorated her back glow blue and silver even as her body began to shudder and shake. “What is going on here?” Dele screamed to Rese, but both men were left clueless and confused. Yet it was clear on some level of their understanding that their master was dying.

*** “Where… Where am I?” Garyn floated. That was the only word she could think of to describe her situation. She floated, surrounded by a pool of white. Chaotic magic, she thought. Ice magic. Yet, her inner core was not freezing out. Her inner fires still burnt bright and true.

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So that still begged the answer to the question, where in the name of the mortal plane was she? “You are safe.” The words were spoken a moment before a blinding flash of white light filled her eyes. When she was finally able to open them again, she saw the nearly transparent figure of her lover floating before her. “Youltan?” “Yes.” The apparition smiled. “We are in a magical plane, Garyn. It was here that the wards that bind you were given birth, and it is here that we will sever them.” Garyn hesitated only a moment before answering. “I may not know a lot about esoteric arts of the Ice Mage, but I understand that you are willingly sacrificing your life for mine. This I cannot allow.” Stubbornly, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her lover, her red eyes glowing strangely against the bright blue of the room. “Excuse me?” Youltan frowned. He was making a great sacrifice here! He was trying his best to save Garyn from a life of drudgery. Why was she complaining now? It… this would be the most worthwhile thing he had ever done in his life, and he was not going to let her stubbornness ruin it. “You are not sacrificing your life for me, Youltan.” Sighing, Garyn let her shoulders drop and looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Before you came here, I had no hope. When you arrived, I planned on manipulating you into freeing me. But you offered to help me by your own volition. You have suffered as much in your thirty years of life as I have in my thousand year reign of a whorehouse. Yet you have not lost your kind heart. “Youltan, there is a need for people like you, out there, repairing the shields and righting the wrongs that mortals make of their lives. Without you, there would be no hope. You even brought hope to me here, trapped in my cage and searching for a way out. But the cost of this exit you propose, the sacrifice of your own life -- it’s just too high. I could never take you away from this mortal plane.

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“You just may be the key to understanding between our two peoples. You are the one to fix this mess that others have made. I can’t cheat the world of that. Your vow had no time limit, Mage. Go out and fix the world. Even if it takes another thousand years, I will be here, waiting for my freedom. Do not let me steal your hope from the world, Youltan. The world needs you.” That said, she looked deeply into her Mage’s eyes and froze as he began laughing. “Fix the world?” he chuckled. “Such lofty goals you set for me, Garyn. Save this mortal plane? I would rather die than deal with foolishness. And this plane will kill me, Garyn, make no mistake about that. They will cheat me out of my rights. When afraid, they will use me as a scapegoat, they will systematically drain my life force to keep up a shield that never should have been spawned in the first place. And then they will curse my name when I am no longer of any use to them. This world can handle its own problems, Garyn. It is you I am concerned about.” “But… but I was going to manipulate you! I was going to use you like these people of this plane! I am the danger here, Youltan! Dare you free one such as me with vengeance on my mind and death ever in my thoughts?” “In a word, yes.” Youltan smiled at the stunned expression on Garyn’s face. “Maybe you are what this world needs, Garyn. Maybe they need to understand that they are not the alpha and the omega. Maybe they need to understand that there are consequences for their actions. I refuse to sacrifice my life for those who will cheapen my death. You, on the other hand, will take my sacrifice and make something useful out of it, even if it is only to bring the damnable shield down.” “But I don’t want you dead!” Garyn shouted, caught between doing what her heart wanted and what her mind demanded. “It doesn’t matter.” Youltan smiled gently at his lover. “It is what I want.” Then, before another word could pass those luscious red lips, Youltan closed his eyes, and with a whispered chant completed the ritual.

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There was a streak of bright light and a sensation of cold as he felt his very soul being torn asunder.

Chapter Sixteen Climax… Dele and Rese watched in horror as both the bodies of their beloved Youltan and the glowing eyed female collapsed to the ground. The female, Garyn, began to twitch and spasm as if she were having a seizure, while the body of their master jerked once, then again, then fell still. The ice reformed around his body, until his whole form was covered in a crystalline coating that was more faceted than the rarest of diamonds. As they raced to their master, Garyn gave a groan and fell still, her bright red eyes glowing with an inner light as her body relearned how to breathe. “Youltan? Master?” Dele cried out, reaching out to touch the ice that surrounded him, but he jerked back when the painfully cold ice nearly froze his fingers off. “Master!” Rese stood beside him looking even more distressed, if that was possible, than Dele, but practically danced from foot to foot, not knowing how to aid his charge. “Get out of the way!” Before Garyn could rationalize what she was doing, she had risen to her feet in a burst of energy, shoving the two servants out of the way. She dropped to her knees at Youltan’s side, her hands hovering over the ice-coated body. “Oh, no you don’t, you bastard!” she growled, eyes glowering at Youltan’s frozen face. “I tell you what to do, and you follow my orders! I am the oldest and say that your purple ass will live!” Closing her eyes, Garyn tapped into that bit of energy that allowed her to alter her sex and her form at will, instinctual wild fire magic. There was a blast of heat and Garyn’s eyes snapped open and began to swirl red and orange with her inner fire.

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“You will not die for me, Ice Mage,” she growled, her voice dropping an octave as her inner power came to the forefront. “I forbid this!” She closed her eyes again, and the red glow in her eyes grew until it surrounded her whole form. Then, placing her hands on top of her ice-covered lover, she gave out a loud roar, her voice resonating and growing until it was a full dragon’s roar, a sound not heard in over a thousand years. As she screamed, powerful streams of energy, reds, oranges, yellows, and even blues, swirled around her arms, drawn into her hands and into the ice-coated Mage who lay barely breathing in his own cold prison. The more she roared, the stronger Garyn’s energy beams became, until, in ripples and waves, it began to converge on the ice. As the power grew in intensity, the ice began to melt, faster than it had formed, freeing first Youltan’s face and his chest, then the rest of the ice melted into water in one huge rush. At his side, Garyn knelt, her scant attire wet and plastered to her body from the runoff from Youltan’s body, but she held her hands in position. When the last of the ice had run from his body, so many ice-cold tears, her hands pressed into his chest, sending her warmth directly into his body. “My soul for yours!” she screamed, and then the pulses of light flowed directly into his soul, re-igniting the fire that was snuffed by the elemental Ice Magic. As her cries died away, Garyn collapsed weakly onto Youltan, breath tearing from her chest, her whole body soaking wet from contact with the now shaking Mage. “My soul for yours,” she breathed, closing her eyes and waiting for the inevitable death she was sure would follow. Maybe she would go up in flames, the resulting fire ensuring that her lover was warmed to his inner core, or maybe she would just flash out into ash, like a night bug flying too close to the flames that were their fatal downfall. But nothing happened. She waited and waited, silently reciting the prayers to her gods, but nothing happened.

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Then there was a weight on her head, a hand tangling in the damp waves of her hair. Weakly lifting her head, she gasped as eyes bright as purple amethysts gazed down at her. “Youltan?” she breathed, unwilling to let her eyes play tricks on her, but so desperately praying that what she was seeing was real. “Dragon,” he breathed, and closed his eyes wearily. “We are… are we both alive?” She had to be dreaming. “There seems to be a lack of demand for souls today.” Garyn exploded into laughter, gripping her Mage tightly, but her laughter slowly dissolved into tears. “So we are both trapped now?” she managed, tears running from her eyes, which were once again a pale, refined red. “No,” Youltan insisted, after closing his eyes for a moment, using his Ice Magic to investigate this new state of affairs. “No, Garyn, we are both free.” “But how?” “We… a part of you is in me. Our souls, they seemed to have merged.” “The wards?” “Are broken,” he assured her. “You are free to go anywhere you want, to do anything you want. You are finally free, Garyn. You are free.” “Then…” She gathered her courage. “Then I want to go with you.” “But you don’t love me.” Youltan was surprised at her words, even as hope built in his heart. He had been so lonely for such a long time… “Maybe I can learn. After all, if what you say is true, I carry a piece of you in me.” Youltan didn’t even have to think. “So be it.” “So.” Garyn chuckled, laying her head against his chest just above his heart. “What do we do when we get out of here?” “We destroy that shield and find a way to get you home.” “Home.” Garyn smiled sadly. “So much time has passed, so many years, so many changes, I wonder if anyone will remember me.”

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“Forget you?” Youltan laughed. “Never.”

“And your servants?”

“Will travel with us.”

“Do they ever speak?” she asked, laughing as she tilted her head to stare at the

still flabbergasted Dele and Rese. “Give them some time, Garyn,” he told her. “They’ve just had dealings with a dragon and lived to tell the tale.” Amused, she relaxed as the servants, hearing themselves being discussed, raced around the suite, finding towels and gathering clothing to take care of their master and apparently his new mate. “But do me a favor?” Youltan pleaded. “Give them some time before you turn male on them. Too many shocks and we may scare them to death.” “After putting up with you all these years?” Garyn laughed. “If that didn’t kill them, nothing will.” Closing their eyes, they relaxed as the servants fussed over them and this plane of existence awaited their return.

The End Or perhaps just the beginning…

Stephanie Burke Stephanie Burke, known to friends and readers as Flash, has a warped, twisted sense of humor, and she isn’t afraid to let it show. From pregnant men to six-foot cockroaches, she’s covered the gamut of the weird, the unusual, and the just plain strange. She has about five million books currently in publication with one house or another, all under the name of Stephanie Burke. She says she won’t use a pen name -she’d have to learn how to spell it. Too much like work. Be sure to join Flash’s “Flame Keeper” loop at Yahoo Groups -- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FlameKeeper/join.