Dragon’s Stone Read online

  Jack stood, moving from under Aneurin’s muzzle until he stood erect. He laid his hand casually on the dragon’s cheek and gave his lover dragon a pat. “My dragon has a name, ma’am. It’s Aneurin. Since you already know mine, the courtesy of an introduction might be the next order of business.” His Honalean was full of mispronunciations, but clear enough.

  Judging by the heat flare Aneurin sensed around the woman’s face, he assumed she blushed beet red at Jack’s naked state. Jack had not bothered to bring the blanket with him. The bright color belied her tart response. “The first order of business for you is clothing, if you please.”

  Aneurin swallowed a snicker, since he could easily read Jack’s annoyance at her intrusion. He’d shredded Jack’s clothes, so he probably stood there wearing nothing but his shoes and a smile of pure mischief.

  Jack snorted and turned toward his bedroom, kicking debris out of his way as he went. “Next time, knock and you won’t catch someone in flagrante delicto.” He sauntered into the room, and Aneurin heard his closet door open.

  The sorceress seemed nonplussed for a moment. “What do those words mean?”

  The amused dragon answered. “He meant, if you knock first, you wouldn’t catch someone fucking.”

  Jack called from the bedroom. “Yeah, we’re gay. So lose the seductive pink dress, willya? I could care less what your tits look like.”

  Her gulp was clearly audible. “Oh.” She stood silently for a moment. “We appear to have gotten off on the wrong footing. We shall start over. My name is Lady Tilda, and I’m sorry to have caused offense. I’ll knock next time, but I shan’t change my dress. It’s the king’s favorite.”

  Aneurin started using his tail to sweep the mess into one pile as a distraction to keep from laughing. Jack’s cocky attitude kept Lady Tilda off balance, and Aneurin wasn’t about to disturb his little play. Jack sent him an image of what this female looked like to human eyes, and Aneurin was forced to mask his laughter with a fit of coughing. He buried his nose in his blanket nest in case he coughed up a bit of gas and set it alight. The pink dress she wore made the blue-eyed blonde resemble a confection Jack had purchased for him called a cupcake. He’d been ready to defend Jack from that?

  Jack came back into the room, and even through the blankets, his draconic nose could smell the leather. Two could play the game of keeping the other off balance by wearing seductive clothing. He was unaffected by her costume, but she liked males, that much was obvious. No doubt Jack wore the full outfit he knew Aneurin loved -- black leather pants, black silk shirt, and a long, black leather vest that swept around his booted ankles. Jack knew what that outfit did to Aneurin’s cock, which hardened even at the thought.

  From Lady Tilda’s intake of breath, and the heat that suffused her whole body, Aneurin hazarded Jack’s ploy had worked. She cleared her throat noisily and turned her head. “Excuse me. I’m unused to the way men dress here.”

  Aneurin kept his nose in the blankets. He could hear Jack’s wicked response of, “Good. Two can play your sexual game,” in his mind. Aneurin warned Jack to back off or he’d set the blankets on fire choking back laughter.

  His voice was mild and courteous. “I’m sorry to cause offense.” He paused and let his echo of her words sink in. “I assume you are the mentor I was told would be forthcoming? May I offer you a chair and a beverage, if I can find an unbroken glass?”

  Her naturally high-pitched voice lowered from a squeak to something less painful. “Yes to all questions. Wine, if you have it.”

  “Let’s see what I can salvage.” His boots rang on the hardwood, and then on the tile in the kitchen. “It appears nothing was damaged in the cabinets. Ah, and I have some chilled champagne in the fridge.”

  She sat in a chair at the table, choosing the one to the right of the traditional head of the table. Aneurin found that interesting. She was used to authority positions, despite her ornamental appearance. “That would be excellent. I’ve never had chilled wine before. Let’s start with what I intended to say, despite our inauspicious beginning. I see you do belong in the Royal Academy. You must get your magic under control, Lord Jack. You cannot permit such activity every time you have sex with your dragon. I can see why the Red Sorceress is sponsoring you.”

  “Spons… Really? Interesting.” Jack brought back the glasses and handed one to Lady Tilda. “Why do you call me Lord?”

  Her tinkling giggle might appeal to the king, but it made Aneurin nauseated. “Oh, the bubbles tickle. Why, you’re Lucynda’s sister’s son, aren’t you? That makes you son of the Duchess of Harringdon, and a Lord. I’m sorry your mother felt it necessary to hide you in this non-magical world to protect you from her enemies. Rather drastic if you ask me, but no one did. Lucynda did tell me you were ignorant of Honalee, having lived here all your life.”

  She waved away Jack’s answer. “No, don’t worry your head about it. We’ll soon have you all prepared to be a fine wizard, and that’s much better than being a noble consort, isn’t it? I’ll expect you at the Academy testing in a fortnight. Do try to acquire proper clothing by then. Tah!” She popped out of sight before Jack could draw breath.

  Aneurin groaned and burrowed deeper in the blankets. Now he was in trouble. He’d forgotten that one aspect of human culture in Honalee. Jack wasn’t going to like this one bit. He counted three heartbeats until Jack exploded.

  “Patronizing bitch! What the fuck was all that about? Why am I suddenly the son of some duchess instead of Lucynda?” Jack paced around the room, so full of anger Aneurin could see magic vibrating objects around him, even without his eyes. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh, I get it. They can’t let word get out that Lucynda’s son has returned so my fath… Cadell can’t find me. At least not until I get this weird-ass telekinesis of mine under control. I probably light up magically like a neon sign. Fine. I can see the necessity.” He blew out a breath. “A fortnight? What is that in terms I can understand?”

  His lover breathed a little easier. Aneurin did not want to explain why Lady Tilda spoke to Jack like he was a lesser being. Jack would find out soon enough, and Aneurin preferred his wrath focused on someone else when he did. “A fortnight is fourteen days, Jack.”

  His poor human wizard started like he’d been zapped by a mage bolt. “Oh, shit and shinola. I’d better go pack. Looks like we’re leaving for Honalee in the morning. I’ll be damned if I am rude enough to say, ‘Hi Mom. Nice to meet you. I’m leaving for this dimwitted school tomorrow. Nice knowing you!’ Even if we hate each other, I can always come back here to wait, right?”

  * * *

  Jack pulled the ropes tight, hopefully securing his luggage to Aneurin’s back. They’d improvised a pad of sorts to protect his family jewels between Aneurin’s spine ridges. He jumped down from the coffee table he’d used as an improvised ladder. “If my Samsonite can survive baggage handlers at the airports, I think it can weather a dimensional flight. How’s that feel, pal?”

  Aneurin tore his eyes away from the windows. Since the bandage had come off, he relished every view he could get, and Jack didn’t begrudge keeping the large window curtains open for a panoramic display to please his friend’s newly regained sight. A draconic shake rattled every one of the bags strapped to his body. “They seem secure. Hurry, Jack. It’s late afternoon in Honalee. We’re expected for dinner, and you’ll want time to unpack.”

  Jack shrugged on his leather overcoat and pulled on gloves. He took one last look at the sprawl of Washington, DC sparkling like some giant’s spilled treasure in the pre-dawn darkness. Traffic would soon clog the beltway, and the noise of the ever-present mass of humanity would rise to deafening levels. Yet, it was what he knew. Could he really live without his cell phone, PDA, computer, and coffee in exchange for learning about all the creatures of myth and legend? Hell, he could try. No one said he couldn’t come back and patronize a Starbucks if he got desperate. Jack used the coffee table one last time to climb up, and wrapped one rope securely across his thi
ghs as a seatbelt of sorts. Feeling a little like a Blues Brother, he put on a pair of wraparound sunglasses and snapped the elastic around his head. “Okay, Aneurin. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Damn dragon must have been afraid he’d change his mind, because he wasted no time. He unfurled his wings as much as he could. “Hang tight. This may be uncomfortable.”

  “Now he tells me!”

  The darkness of his apartment was replaced for an instant with pure black nothingness. Jack’s stomach lurched. Then his eyes were blinded by afternoon sunlight, even with his sunglasses. Hey, they were falling. Shit, they were plummeting.

  Aneurin’s wings snapped out fully and caught the wind. Jack’s guts were left behind, and they soared effortlessly high above the green valley below. Beneath him, Jack felt Aneurin’s bones stretch until they popped audibly. “Ahh! I needed that,” the dragon sighed gustily. “There’s a thermal ahead. We’ll use it to circle around until we find the castle with a red roof, just as Draig told us.”

  Even Jack felt the difference in the temperature when the dragon found the uplifting column of warm air, and they took a fast invisible elevator skyward. Jack whooped, beginning to enjoy himself. So what if he was getting windburn already? The view was spectacular, and the whole place shimmered with green. A village below looked so perfect he wanted a camera before he remembered there’d be no digital processing. He hung on to the ropes and tried to spot a castle with a red roof somewhere in the south of Honalee.

  Aneurin roared, nearly deafening him. “There it is!”

  Weren’t wizards’ castles supposed to be gray stone edifices lodged into the sides of craggy mountains? Instead, Lucynda’s castle was a whitewashed or limestone home easily the size of a mansion, with a collection of smaller buildings nestled around it, like chicks around a mother hen. It looked a little like Neuschwanstein. No real fancy flower gardens, just small farm plots of maybe a half acre each, though the wide footpaths in between looked paved with cobblestones or something. Neat and orderly. He liked it. “Nice place!”

  One of the larger buildings Jack thought was a barn more closely resembled an aircraft hangar. He laughed and pointed. “Hey, Aneurin! If that’s not a dragon abode, I’ll eat my boots!”

  “Your boots are in no danger. There’s Draig.”

  Sure enough, a lavender and silver dragon stepped out of the dragon hangar, unfurled her wings, and roared before leaping into the sky. She joined them in an aerial bout of soaring and aerobatics. “It’s about time you got here! Welcome home!”

  Jack clutched tightly to the ropes and hung on for his life while Aneurin and his mother apparently did what dragons do when they met in the air as friends -- fly their tails off. What the hell -- let them have their fun. He protested only when he felt the improvised saddle beneath him start to slip to one side. “Hey! Cut that out, you two! Remember there’s a human held on only by ropes up here!”

  Contritely, they both backwinged to land. No blanket could protect him from the jarring his nuts took from the impact. He groaned and bent over as soon as they were safely on the ground. Breathing hurt.

  Aneurin snaked his head around. “Sorry about that. We’ll get a saddle tomorrow, I promise. Get off and jump around until they settle. I’ll kiss them in apology later.” His nose whuffled at him and nudged.

  Jack sat proudly up, determined to look semi-intelligent when he met his mother. Crossed eyes and moans of pain weren’t going to help his image. He swung one leg over and slid down Aneurin’s side until he hit the ground, barely containing his nausea. He hoped he hadn’t turned white. At least he managed to stay upright, despite the agonizing state of his balls.

  Dignity, man, dignity. Jack discreetly did a few hops in place until his nuts decided it was safe to come out. He could live with the throbbing. He hoped. “I might let you, if the jewels aren’t the size of grapefruits by nightfall. Yeah, let’s get a saddle tomorrow, first thing.”

  Draig stepped around Aneurin’s tail, furling her wings into place. “Nice suit, Jack. Not a bad compromise on what’s closest to medieval garb without your feeling silly until you’re used to it. By the way, speaking of leather, there’s a leather worker in the village. DeAngelo should have a few saddles made, since he has royal patronage. He’ll tool something lovely for you.” Her eyes, still the same bright blue as they were in her human form, looked at something over his shoulder. “Oh, good. Here comes Lucynda.”

  Jack swallowed and fought down nerves. Worse, he desperately wanted a cigarette. One deep breath, and Jack did his best about face to meet the woman he’d thought for thirty years had abandoned him. Would he have the guts to say the words he’d rehearsed endlessly?

  Chapter Three

  Jack eyed the woman who hauled her skirts in a wad and made an undignified run down the steps. Brown hair, blue eyes. Younger looking than he’d expected, considering she had to be around fifty. Somewhere in there. Still, there was something comfortable about her. Maybe it was the laugh lines and the twinkle in her eyes. It didn’t matter. He liked her, and that was enough for now.

  She halted a few feet away from him and planted her fists on her hips. She studied him from the tips of his boots to the top of his head, craning her neck since the top of her head barely cleared his chest. “Well! The other world hasn’t been overfeeding you, have they? We’ll fix that. Welcome home, son. Draig tells me you’re used to being called Jack.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Um. Hi, Mom. I’m home?” Jack’s brain plagued him with images of a TV character shouting “Lucy! I’m home!” “Maybe over dinner you can tell me what my birth name was?”

  The tiny sorceress’ lips twitched, then she laughed. “Overwhelmed, aren’t you? I do apologize. Let’s get Aneurin settled, and then we’ll let you unpack. Unless you’d prefer he slept with you?”

  Jack blinked for a moment. His gaze flickered to the big wood and stone hangar structure. He guessed it was normal for a dragon to sleep in the hangar, or whatever it was called. Who knew? Aneurin might want to spend time with his own mother. Jack swallowed a childish need to cling to the one constant in all this and turned to Aneurin. “It’s up to you, lover. What’s your pleasure?”

  Aneurin shifted to his human form and paced forward to caress Jack’s jaw. “As if I’d leave you alone here. I promised, didn’t I?” He brushed a quick kiss on Jack’s lips.

  Clearing his throat, Jack felt heat rush into his face like some fucking girl caught necking. Was getting a public kiss from your lover acceptable in Honalee? He stole a guilty glance at Lucynda and then breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, pal.”

  Draig had also changed form, and now cuddled her human in her arms. “See? Nothing to worry about, now, is there?”

  Lucynda peeked at Jack, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She smiled tremulously at him, and her face was redder than his.

  Jack’s eyes widened. It took no brains to figure out Draig had told Lucynda of his anger and bitterness at his orphaned state, and now Lucynda had reason to fear he’d hate her. He cleared his throat. “I seem to remember some injudicious statements made about my parents before I found out I wasn’t really an abandoned orphan.” He paused and searched for words. “Nice to know I’m not, and I was wrong.”

  Hope shimmered in her eyes. “M… Jack… I…” She faltered and couldn’t seem to go on.

  He threw back his shoulders and steeled himself. This next step took more courage than he ever thought he had. He opened his arms. “Can I have a hug?”

  Now her tears fell, but they were overshadowed by a glittering smile. Step by hesitant step, she left Draig’s arms until she leapt the last two feet into his arms, sobbing. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  Had he been overwhelmed before? The feelings in his chest threatened to choke him now. He coughed and held tight. Say something, dummy. Anything. “You know, I kind of figured you’d be a lot bigger.”

  She sniffled. “Is that so? Well, I remember you being a lot smaller. Funny how the mind plays tricks upon y
ou, isn’t it?” She wriggled out of his arms and smoothed her gown. Then she waved over two menservants. “I’ll let you compose yourself and we’ll meet for a simple feast in the great hall. I’m sorry it’s so little. Only seven courses.”

  Because you really didn’t believe I’d come, did you? Well, he didn’t blame her for her doubts. Hadn’t he been filled with uncertainty? “Sure, seven courses are fine.” He’d have been happy with a pizza, but she didn’t need to know that.

  Jack followed his mother up the lawn and into his new home, with Aneurin’s hand clasped in his.

  * * *

  Aneurin reluctantly allowed Jack to drag him from shop to shop in the wizard’s village. The merchandise required by the school barely interested Jack, and he usually purchased whatever the shopkeeper said was good with no bargaining. Aneurin shook his head and tried another admonishment. “Jack, you really ought to shop more carefully. Don’t you care about your wand, scales, cauldron and herbs? You could have been sold sticks, grass and leaves for all you know.”

  Jack stepped happily down off the modest stoop of the herb shop, his interested gaze darting around at all the shoppers clogging the dirt lane. He pulled Aneurin over to the side so a dwarf, so laden with packages you couldn’t see his beard, could enter the shop. Jack courteously opened the door for the burdened fellow, and then closed the door after the astonished dwarf entered. “That’s the point, old pal. I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, and no way to know differently. Oh, wow! Look, Aneurin. Is that an Elf? Wow, they really are graceful, aren’t they? Hey, is that a troll?”

  Aneurin grabbed the back of Jack’s leather trench coat before Jack could go charging over to talk to another “mythical being.” Poor Lucynda had conceded the trench was the closest thing to the robes denoting a wizard Jack possessed and had reluctantly allowed him to wear it for the shopping excursion. “Jack, stop. You’ve accosted a werewolf already. Let’s go buy my saddle before you indulge in any more conversations. I’m getting thirsty.”