Dragon Forged

Last days of Autumn

Iron Hall

Boredom had never been a good companion for Hector. He was a man of action and deed. Not that he didn’t enjoy some downtime. After everything he and the other Dragon Kings had endured of late, a little respite was agreeable. But after a week of twiddling his thumbs, he was restless. He needed something to occupy him, and he wasn’t due for his patrol rotation along the border for another six days. That was too long to wait.

His boot heels thumped softly on Iron Hall’s stone floors. The underground city was enormous, and every time they thought they had explored all there was to see, they discovered more. For the most part, the city had survived relatively well. However, some sections had some damage or had even caved in, making them impassable.

Hector had been exploring an area of devastation found weeks earlier. A few blocked corridors had already been cleared, but there was one he could focus on. He needed a project to curb his irritation and keep him from getting on anyone’s nerves.

He paused inside the atrium, finding Marcus where he had left him three hours earlier. Hector grinned as he took in his friend leaning on a table, staring at blueprints. Marcus was in his element bringing the city back to its original glory, piece by piece. And he was doing a great job.

Hector lifted his gaze to the arched dome ceiling, and the large, white six-pointed star with its starry blue middle. Each of the points correlated to one of the six hallways branching off from the anteroom. The room was like every other part of Iron Hall, simple and elegant in its construction and decoration. A lot of emphasis had been placed in the atrium, which made everyone—especially Marcus—believe the entire area was important.

The corridor Hector had just traversed connected a city wing to the antechamber. All four smaller, flanking hallways had suffered damage, but the two closest to the corridor directly across from him had the most. Marcus specialized in architecture—every aspect of it. He had designed and built Dreagan Manor, the distillery, and every other building on their estate in Scotland on Earth. Then, he came to Zora to construct another manor at Cairnkeep, in the heart of dragon land, but his focus had since deviated to Iron Hall. Hector grinned and leaned a shoulder against the wall when he recalled how Marcus’s eyes had lit up at the sight of the underground city.

“Tell me again why you doona just use magic to clear this last hall?” Hector asked, looking at the remaining blockage.

Marcus didn’t lift his head from the blueprints as he said, “That takes the fun out of it.”

This was far from Hector’s idea of enjoyable. He was a warrior, a fighter. Give him wide-open skies and an enemy to vanquish over ruins to be put back together any day. He wasn’t made to be stuck inside. Yet he never hesitated to lend a hand when needed—or when he had nothing else to occupy him.

He pushed away from the wall and walked across the atrium to the blocked corridor. He only saw rocks and debris, but Marcus viewed things in ways no one else could. It was why building and rebuilding were his fortes. It was also why, if they wanted a spectacular meal, they turned to Keltan, who could make a feast out of nothing. If someone needed healing, Con stepped in. All the Kings had unique skills. Even him. Though he wouldn’t call his skill at battle all that special. He picked up battle tactics and fighting styles as easily as breathing. Sometimes, he wished he had something more meaningful or fun.

When the Kings first came to Zora, all that mattered to them was the discovery of their dragons. Enemies had soon emerged, and it seemed they had been fighting one foe after another ever since. It kept them from exploring more of this new world than the bit of land the dragons had claimed. Most of the Kings’ time had been spent at Stonemore, a mountainside city near dragon land, where they’d fought multiple battles.

From what the Kings had seen of Zora so far, the realm was stuck in a medievalesque era. Stonemore had many striking buildings, especially the palace at the very top of the mountain. They had glass windows, plumbing, and even heated water. Yet they still used horses and carriages for travel.

Iron Hall was different in more than its architecture. The stones used for the floor glowed from within, but not with magic. Sconces of flames that never went out hung along the walls. The aqueducts would’ve made the Romans weep with envy. Everything about the city, from the very design to the murals and lighting, made a person forget they were deep beneath the earth. Yet for all Iron Hall’s wonders, they had yet to discover the builders, how long they might have lived here, or what had happened to them. He was beginning to wonder if they ever would.

“The debris looks different in here,” Hector called out as he walked to the entrance of the blocked corridor. “The floor tiles aren’t cracked. They’re smashed.”

He walked the last few feet into the hall where the rubble began. Squatting, Hector picked up a small piece of broken rock. The edges were burnt as if from a blast of some kind. Or fire. He tossed the rock into the air and caught it. Scanning from one side of the wide passage to the other, he saw deep into the darkness beyond as well as he would have if it were lit. His enhanced dragon senses stretched out, though searching for what, he wasn’t sure. Something wasn’t right.

It occurred to him that Marcus hadn’t replied to his previous comment. He looked over his shoulder at his friend, whose dark head was still bent over the designs.

“Did you hear me?” Hector asked.

“What?” Marcus briefly lifted his head and speared him with a perturbed green gaze. “Of course.”

Hector grinned. “Did you now? What did I say?”

“Fine. I wasna listening. I have to…”

Hector didn’t wait for Marcus to finish, because he wouldn’t. Whatever was going on happened inside Marcus’s head and never made it past his lips. It was better to leave him to his musings and only interrupt if it was life or death.

Hector faced the debris field once more. The blackened stone bothered him. The few areas that needed work, like shoring up a few cracks, was nothing compared to this section or the two beside it. The hall was situated far from the city’s main hub and only connected by the corridors, which explained why the damage was so contained. They hadn’t discovered what it had been used for yet. It would likely take the reconstruction of the last hall before they could piece it all together. The other four hallways that branched off the atrium had one or two rooms along the sides, but all had a room at the end. Each was a different size and shape, with nothing inside that might tell them what it was for.

Hector straightened and carefully picked his way around the rubble, moving deeper into the corridor. It led him to more scorch marks on the rocks littering the floor. That confirmed that something—or someone—had blown up this hallway, either by accident or on purpose. It would explain why the others had sustained damage.

It wasn’t long before Hector had to duck under the collapsing ceiling. There was no telling how much dirt was above him. With their magic, the Kings could survive a cave-in, but others wouldn’t be so lucky. He needed to mention that to Marcus in case he hadn’t inspected the areas back here. They needed to set up a barrier, at least to make sure none of the bairns accidentally found their way to this section.

He reached a wall of rock and was about to turn back when he spotted a small opening through a pile of rocks. He did a double take and leaned to the side, trying to get a better look into the gap.

“Fuck,” Hector mumbled when he struck his head on a rock.

The indescribable, overpowering need to see inside gripped him. Without a second thought, he dropped to his hands and knees to crawl around and over the large rocks. He cut his palms and arms numerous times on the sharp edges, but his body healed instantly. If it wasn’t for Marcus, he would’ve already reached for his magic to clear his way, but he respected his friend enough not to do that.

It took some time before Hector reached the cavity. His elation was short-lived. When he peered inside, he only found more debris. But even with nothing visible to his dragon vision, he couldn’t turn away. The overwhelming need he’d felt earlier intensified, pushing him to investigate further. There was space enough for someone to stand upright, but beyond that was a solid wall of rock.

He continued to scan the space, trying to decipher what had made him want to remain and get inside. The pull was so persuasive that he jerked away from the gap. Hector tried to leave, but found he couldn’t. He had to know what was inside that room.

Something was in there and luring him. He looked down the hall to the antechamber and briefly thought about calling Marcus. As soon as the thought crossed his mind and passed, he realized he would have to share whatever he found. Hector was at the opening in the next heartbeat. He eyed the width and height, comparing it to his body. It would be tight, especially since he couldn’t use magic.

He stuck one arm through the gap, and then squeezed a shoulder and his head inside. When he tried to pull himself the rest of the way through, he got stuck. He had to contort himself to get his other shoulder through. Dirt rained down around him, the ceiling groaning ominously. He flipped onto his back and stared above him, his magic at the ready, just in case.

But it held. When he was sure nothing would fall, he pulled himself through the gap and got to his feet. He had to lean his head to the side so he didn’t bonk it. Again. The room was about eight feet square and, remarkably, didn’t have as much debris as the rest of the corridor. Hector skimmed the walls and floor, trying to find what had drawn him in. He found himself turning left and walking toward a wall.

He squatted and rolled away a rock the size of a beach ball, finding a slowly blinking turquoise light. The color was vivid, but not bright enough to sear his eyes. He reached for it before he could stop himself. Even as he made contact with the light, he tried to pull back.

One moment, he was in the scorched corridor. The next, he stood in an all-white stone room. A salty breeze caressed his cheek as waves crashed against rocks nearby, and gulls squawked loudly. He turned his head toward the open window and the brilliant sunlight flooding through it. He moved toward it, only to spin around at the sound of an opening door. Hector found himself staring into vibrant blue eyes as bright as a summer sky.

The woman drew up short at the sight of him. He shook himself, unsure if he was dreaming or if the stunning female staring back at him was real. For a moment, she so arrested him that he couldn’t move. She had an oval face, a delicate nose, and a mouth that made him think of long nights with their bodies tangled in sheets.

Her airy, white dress was clasped at the shoulders with bands of leather, while a simple leather belt gathered the material against her waist, showing shapely curves before stopping at her ankles to reveal leather sandals. Her blond curls were gathered away from her face and hung past her shoulders, revealing darker strands underneath.

Hector started to reach out to touch her, only to stop himself in time. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had mesmerized him so. He had to know her. In every way possible.

“Who are you?” he asked.

As if his words had broken the spell between them, she shut the door behind her and hurried past him. “There isn’t time. You must come with me now.”

He turned with her. “Just hold on a damn minute. You’ve no’ told me your name. I need to know how I got here. And where is here, anyway?”

“I’ll show you. Come,” she urged as she motioned to another door he hadn’t noticed.

He hesitated, then sighed and trailed after her, moving through the doorway. Hector found himself in a narrow hall. “Can you at least tell me your name?”

“All the answers are just ahead.”

Why wouldn’t she give him her name? It irritated him. He intended to get it from her. He warily followed her, eyeing the doors on either side of him. Everything within him threw up red flags. His lips parted to pose another question, when she halted and spun to face him. She barely spared him a glance, not even meeting his eyes. She hadn’t been able to look away when she first saw him. Now, she wouldn’t look at him. What was going on?

Hector dipped his chin and caught her gaze. She swung her attention to the opposite side. “Lass? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Sorry?” he repeated. “For what?”

She walked to the side, and he turned to face her. Her eyes briefly met his. Hector glanced down the hall in both directions. When he looked back at her, he noticed the pulse in her throat was erratic.

“I’m no’ hearing any of those answers you promised, lass.”

“You will.”

Hector planted his feet, refusing to budge. “I think it’s time for you to at least tell me your name.”

“I’m no one of consequence,” she said, at the same time she reached around him and opened the door.

He turned to see what was inside, not realizing he was so close to the threshold. He lost his balance and tumbled through the air. He was about to shift when he landed on the hard ground with a loud grunt. Hector rolled to a stop and gingerly sat up, his legs bent as he shook his head. The room was gone. Now, he was in a field beneath a dazzling sun and big, fluffy clouds.

Hector scrubbed a hand over his jaw. There hadn’t been any malice or anger in the woman’s words. Nor had she touched him. But there was little doubt she knew exactly what the door was and that it would take him away. The problem was, why had she done it? He also had to figure out where he was. He couldn’t see the door he had fallen through anywhere. He got to his feet and dusted off his hands. That’s when he noticed the man leaning on a shovel, watching him.