“That’s a risk we’re prepared to take,” he said, and pointed the gun at my face.
“No,” my mother screamed, even as the roof was torn apart and a silver and gold dragon dropped like a stone toward us. His scaled hide gleamed like polished jewels in the bright light, his talons thick and deadly looking as claws widened then snapped shut, reminding me of the jaws of a crocodile grabbing for food. Never in my life have I seen a more beautiful sight.
Marsten spun and raised the gun. But he was too late. Trae’s swoop had brought him close enough to lash out with one wickedly clawed foot. As he snatched the scientist up, the gun went off, skimming his jeweled hide, leaving a slash of blood. Blood that was joined by a thick spurt as one of Trae’s claws slashed deep into Marsten’s middle, gutting him.
Trae trumpeted—a harsh, ugly sound—then his wings pumped, blasting me with air and dust as he rose skyward through the roof.
“The loch,” I screamed after him, hoping he could hear me. Hoping he’d listen. “She waits.”
He disappeared. I slumped back, feeling an odd weariness slithering through me, making my limbs seem heavy and yet my head light.
I licked my lips and tried to concentrate. It wasn’t finished yet. There were still others to be taken care of if we dragons were to have any freedom. I shifted position, and allowed my wounded leg to fall
into the water. Loch water wasn’t seawater, and it didn’t have the same sort of healing power, but the freezing water would slow the bleeding, and the ancient energy caught within the loch would begin to heal the wound. Just not as fast as the sea.
“Mom,” I said, flicking my fingers through the water, letting the whirlpool of power go. “We need to call the loch and finish this.”
“I can’t,” she sobbed, splashing to a halt by my side and groping quickly for my hand. “God, I should kill you for taking such a stupid risk.”
“I’m okay, Mom, really.” I hesitated, then said, “I need to erase their fingerprints on this place. I need to call the loch.”
“Do what you wish. This place has no soul left for me now. It is your inheritance. Yours to do with what you wish.”
What I wished was for every bit of the scientists to be erased from this place. I wanted no memory of them left in the rooms or the cold stone walls. No trace of them remaining anywhere on the grounds.
Mom’s fingers wrapped around mine in the pool, and a tremor seemed to slice the dark waters. A tremor that was all excitement, all need. The loch wanted this as much as I did. With my mom’s grip somehow giving me strength, I took a deep, shuddery breath, then called.
Energy touched the air, raced across the water, across my senses. It was a rich, warm sensation, one of welcoming and of healing, and it flooded through my body, through muscles and bone and spirit, energizing and renewing. Giving me the strength I needed to fight on. To survive.
My mother sucked in a deep breath, and suddenly seemed more alive. Color warmed her pale features and her frail body suddenly seemed to have strength. She might not be able to call the magic anymore, but she was still a sea dragon, and she could still feel it.
“Come to me,” I said softly. “By the Gods of sea and air and lake, I command thee to come to me.”
The concrete underneath us shuddered, as if the very ground was trying to answer my call.
“Come to me,” I repeated, “and cleanse this place of the evil that has taken it. Let no room or person go unnoticed.”
As I spoke, thunder rumbled. It was a long, dark sound that went on and on, as if the very skies vibrated with fury.
“Take it all,” I whispered. “Cleanse it all. I want nothing of them left in this place. Nothing at all.”
There was a thick, long roar, a thunderous sound that seemed to surround us, a sound that was a combination of air and water and the very earth itself. The walls around us shook, as if in fear of its fury.
Mom smiled and squeezed my hand. “She comes. She answered.”
I had no time to reply, because the fierce dark waters rushed into our cell and swept us away to the safety of the loch.
Chapter Fifteen
That’s where my mother died.
In the arms of the loch, surrounded by its power, filled with its welcome and joy. I held her gently, keeping her body close to the shore, fighting the gentle but insistent tug of the water.
Dawn was coming—the music of it was growing—but the time was not yet right to release her to the water’s embrace.
The loch had been quiet for a good hour now, the fury of water and air and earth that I’d unleashed fading quickly once the last traces of those who had invaded our ancestral lands had been washed away. Several bodies had drifted past my sheltered position, guided on by the gentle currents down toward the castle. In the last hour, boats had come out to collect them, while others searched for survivors. No boats came near me. The loch saw to that.
Awareness tingled across my skin, and the warmth that always came with Trae’s presence flooded my senses.