Fiction: Dragon King - Part 2

[kethni]

Name: The Dragon King – Part Two

Pairing: Multiple! But includes: Matt/Mohinder, Matt/Daphne, Matt/Luke, Matt/Peter, Peter/Adam

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Explicit sexual scenes, cheesiness, some OOC.

Word Count: This section, 7038

Authors Note: I’ve not read a huge amount of fantasy literature; LOTR, Narnia, Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, and Discworld, but there’s nothing new under the sun so any similarities in the magic systems are purely coincidental.

For dragon6593 who wanted ‘a fantasy story where is a powerful wizard who has to live down his father's reputation as a dark mage. A mage who had enslaved the people he'd sworn to protect. Even though he'd stopped his father's reign of terror by defeating him in a destructive duel of magic; a duel leaving him scarred emotionally and physically. Matt still is eyed with fear and suspicion by other members of his profession and some of the public at large. Inspite of this Matt continues to help people with his magic whenever and where ever he can. Aided by his closest friends who worry that Matt is taking on too much.’



Element Four – Air

That this petitioner is some manner of noble is not in doubt although Matt has to wonder why the man doesn’t have his own mage to consult. He swaggers inside the house as if faintly amused by the novelty, slaps Peter’s ass, and helps himself to a glass of wine.

‘I understand you’re the most powerful mage in the country now the Hartwood Blood Mage is gone,’ he says, looking at Matt.

‘It’s been a long day Lord Monroe and I’m sure you have access to mages of your own. Please tell me what you want from me.’

Adam’s hand tightens on the glass. ‘How do you know who I am?’

‘He’s the most powerful mage in the country,’ Peter points out.

‘Send your bedwarmer away and I’ll tell you what I want.’

‘My apprentice observes all petitions,’ Matt says sharply. ‘You are not the lord here and you have no authority. Fine clothing and poor manners do not alter the fact that you are a petitioner like any other.’

Adam smiles angelically. ‘If I told you I could make you rich you’d doubtless tell me that if you wanted to be rich you would be.’

‘Doubtless.’

Adam throws himself into a chair. ‘I need to talk to someone in the capital. I need to do it now, and I need to it secretly.’

‘Peter, what kind of spell would that be?’ Matt prompts.

‘Uh, air, Master?’

‘Yes. Air spells are mediated spells, Lord Monroe. That means that only someone directly participating in the spell will perceive it. Either you participate in the spell directly or your messages pass through me,’ Matt explains.

Adam grins. ‘Passing messages through you is unacceptable. What would I have to do to be directly part of the spell?’

‘Engage in the appropriate act with my apprentice,’ Matt says.

Adam’s grin widens. ‘An act of coupling?’

‘I am a sex mage. If I were a blood mage I bleed you into a bowl.’

‘Urgh, no thank you.’ Adam looks Peter over and then turns back to Matt. ‘That’s acceptable to me. May I assume that your oaths of privacy and secrecy cover both our actions and the messages?’

‘You’re well informed. Yes, anything that happens during a spell is under our oaths.’

Adam claps his hands together. ‘Very well then! I hope I don’t have to climb a tree or something.’

‘If it’s a more minor spell perhaps we could perform it in the house?’ Peter suggests. ‘It’s getting cold outside.’

Matt raises his eyebrows. ‘Yes, alright, we know you have enough vim for it,’ he says, making Peter blush.



‘Is this your bedroom? How quaint,’ Adam says as he looks around the small room.

‘I wanna go on top,’ Peter says to Matt, sotto voce.

‘Don’t maim him will you?’

‘No, just give him something to think about.’

Matt clears his throat. ‘Please get undressed and lie down on the bed, Lord Monroe. This will be the Sign of the Eagle so you’ll need lie face down with your arms spread out and your legs bent up at the knee.’

Adam blinks. ‘You’re not suggesting he penetrate me?’

‘Certainly, Peter is extremely experienced with this position and you’re not. It’s better this way,’ Matt says blandly.

Peter pulls off his robe and smiles at Adam. ‘I’m ready when you are, Lordship.’

Matt throws Peter a small jar of ointment and sits down in a battered armchair to watch.

‘You best be as good as everyone says,’ Adam says as he shoves down his britches and kicks them off. ‘I’m not taking off more of my clothes than that.’ He throws himself onto the bed and throws out his arms.

Peter prepares him quickly.

‘Think about the person to whom you need to communicate,’ Matt says smoothly.

Peter stands on the floor, Adam’s bare legs resting against this chest, and enters him slowly.

Adam grunts and clutches at the bedclothes.

‘You’re not thinking about the person you need to talk to,’ Matt chides.

‘Can’t I do that later?’

‘We’re doing the spell now, Lord Monroe, oh there he is.’

‘Wait, what? I can’t talk to him when I’m being taken from behind by a…’



‘Good job it turned out he was trying to arrange the assassination of the King,’ Peter says jovially as he dresses.

‘I would’ve thought an assassin would be more accommodating of other people’s idiosyncrasies,’ Matt says.

‘Idiosyncrasies like sending you a vision of them having sex?’ Peter giggles.

‘Don’t be too amused, he might attempt some of revenge. Once he’s stopped fleeing from his co-conspirators that is. It takes so little to make people think you are untrustworthy these days.’

Peter stretches. ‘Shall I watch downstairs the rest of the night?’

‘I’ll do it. Get some sleep.’

Peter puts his hand on Matt’s wrist. ‘Master, please. It is my duty.’

‘I hope Nathan hasn’t been filling your head with stories of my working too hard.’

‘No! Now rest, I’ll fetch you if there are any more petitioners.’



Element Five – Sky

There is an owl hooting in the silken blackness outside his window. The cattle are drowsing peacefully in their shed. The chickens are rustling and preening in the hen house, invisible to the prowling fox nearby. Yet Matt knows that something is terribly wrong. There is a wrenching, gaping hole where there should be something whole and healthy. Terror, fear, and bottomless grief where there should be pride and contentment.

‘Master?’ Peter whispers, knocking on the door as if simultaneously trying to wake and not wake him. ‘Master there are some petitioners here. It’s… it’s bad Master.’



Matt recognises the woman without being able to place her. He’s too tired, too worn, and too shaken by her distress. She’s widowed, he’s sure of that, and has born more children than the poor creature in front of him. The girl is young, eight or perhaps a small nine, and she was once whip smart and full of plans. Now she’s a living corpse. Her eyes are blank and her thoughts have died. She breathes, she eats when food is put to her lips, and she sleeps. That’s all.

‘She fell from a tree. Children climb trees! They climb them all the time and she was so good at it. Always up and down them just as fast as her brother. When he… when… I thought I’d die but she always kept me going. I’ve been to wise women and they say she’s beyond help. But you’re the mage who saved us before so I thought…’ she stares at him beseechingly.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Matt says gently. ‘Your daughter has died. Her spirit and spark have gone. This is only flesh.’

‘You can do something! I know you can do something!’ she weeps. ‘Please I can’t lose her too. Please it’s not fair. The blood mage sacrificed my son and my husband died trying to stop him… please…I saw you kill him, on the Ambrose field…Remember?’

Matt remembers. He remembers the bodies piled up in father’s palace like so much trash. So many bodies. So many of them children or babies.

‘I… I can’t… there’s no spell…’

‘You defeated the blood mage! This is nothing compared to that! Please… please my daughter is all I have and she doesn’t deserve this.’

‘What about one of those sky spells?’ Peter suggests. ‘They’re incredibly powerful aren’t they?’

Matt’s face flushes red as he glares at Peter.

‘Can you do that? Would a… a sky spell save her?’ the mother demands.

‘Sky spells are incredibly dangerous,’ Matt says quickly. ‘They can cause untold destruction and havoc. There is always a terrible cost and never one you would choose to pay.’

She pulls herself up. ‘I’d pay anything to save my daughter. I lost my son to a mage. I ask you to put the balance right and save my daughter.’

She doesn’t know who Matt is, he realises. She has no idea her son died in Matt’s father’s quest for power. He wonders if she ever found the body.

‘I can’t do it now,’ he says, knowing that it’s surrender. ‘I can’t do it by myself. My apprentice will ride to Chenna and ask the mage there if he can assist. If the mage there cannot assist then there is nothing I can do.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, wiping her eyes. ‘We will stay in the village inn until we hear word from you.’

Peter shows them out, feeling a mounting dread nestling in his stomach. When he returns to the kitchen Matt is still sat at the table.

‘Master…’

‘Do you have any conception of what you’ve done?’ Matt demands. ‘You had neither the knowledge nor the right to suggest such a thing!’

‘Mistress Millbrook…’

‘Mistress Millbrook’s father died because of that spell. There was a plague of rats because of that spell. Sky spells do not gently manipulate the flow of the universe the way other spells do. Sky spells scream defiance at the natural order of things and the natural order screams back! We mere mortals can only hope not to be in the way when it happens.’

Peter pales. ‘I… I didn’t know.’

‘That is because you’re an apprentice and it isn’t time for you to know! That girl will wish we had not interfered and who knows how many people will suffer for it. But I am honour bound now because of actions taken by others and the stupid prattle of my apprentice!’

‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry…’

‘Just go! Go to Chenna and find the sex mage there. Explain to him what you’ve done and what I have to do. Ask him for his assistance and then return. He may spend as much time as he likes travelling but you will have chores tomorrow.’

Peter blinks. ‘You… you want me to go right now, Master?’

‘Yes for I cannot stand the sight of you.’

‘We could do an air spell…’

Matt gets to his feet. ‘I cannot stand to look at you and I certainly cannot bring myself to touch you. Go explain to him your idiocy. You beg him because I will not.’

Peter bites his lip and nods. ‘Yes Master,’ he whispers.

‘And be sure you come back,’ Matt says more gently. ‘No silly ideas about running away. I’ve got a storeroom full of apples you need to bake or otherwise use up.’

‘Yes Master.’



In the morning, Matt sees to the animals. There’s something soothing about being out in the soft dawn light feeding, milking, and collecting eggs. Once or twice a year Matt allows a few of the cows to calf to replace the cows they slaughter for meat and to collect the small amount of milk that he and his apprentice will need. Most of Matt’s cows will only bear two or three calves in total and spend most of their time happily wandering about the field. Matt considers it a fair trade for the food, shelter, and medical attention he gives them. Peter isn’t bad with the animals. Matt’s certainly had apprentices with less aptitude for farming; the one that Peter has gone to visit for example.

Matt shakes his head. Peter is an earth; skill with animals comes natural to them. The other man is air; skill with animals comes to them like flying comes to an elephant. Peter is earth and water while the other man is air and fire. They couldn’t be more dissimilar in temperament. Perhaps Matt should’ve gone himself. But it will be bad enough facing him when he’s here, let alone travelling to him to beg a favour.



Peter returns mid-morning, nearly falling from his horse in exhaustion.

‘He’ll come,’ he slurs, as Matt helps him down. ‘He says he’ll come.’

Matt isn’t sure if he’s pleased or not. He doesn’t know which answer he wanted. ‘Go and sleep before you fall down.’

Peter embraces him tightly. ‘I’m so sorry, Master. Really so sorry.’

Matt sighs and manages to pat his back. ‘Go and sleep, Peter. You’re no good to anyone like this.’

While Peter staggers up to bed Matt unsaddles his horse, checks its hooves, and rubs it down. Peter’s obviously given it a good feed on the way back but it needs washing down and some water. That’s fine. Matt doesn’t expect his visitor before the evening. He’ll have arrangements to make, things to organise, and besides, he won’t want to look as if he’s dropped everything to rush here. He has his pride. He’s always had his pride, even when he was a scrawny boy raw with distress over his father’s lack of interest and starving for any kind of attention.

Matt has his pride too. That’s why, once the horse is happily stabled, he cleans the house from top to bottom. When he’s cleaned he cooks soup, bakes bread and apple pies, and fetches a leg of lamb from the larder. He makes an infusion of wine, garlic, rosemary, thyme, orange juice, lemon juice, olive oil and pepper and leaves the lamb to marinade in it. He still has a pot of goose grease which he’ll use for roasting the Desirée potatoes. What else? There are carrots but shelling peas is so labour intensive and for so little benefit: butternut squash then and onions. He’ll have Peter run up to the lord’s manor house and ask for a bottle of good wine. The lord owes him any number of favours and besides he gains considerable cachet from having a mage of Matt’s reputation living in his lordship.

Perhaps he’s trying too much. But how much is too much when someone has dropped everything, despite what the other man will doubtless claim, in order to travel all this distance to help Matt do something that they both know is a terrible mistake.

‘Master?’ Peter says sleepily. He wanders into the kitchen and looks around. ‘Have you been making ready?’

‘Yes.’ Matt brushes a smear of flour from his robe. ‘I’d like you to go to the manor house and ask the steward for some wine for tonight.’

‘You didn’t have me make the house ready?’ Peter asks. ‘I would have done it, Master. I would have done a good job. Has my work been poor? I can do better! I promise…’

‘No, Peter, there’s nothing wrong with your work generally,’ Matt interrupts. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you while you were sleeping that’s all.’

‘I’m so sorry about yesterday…’

Matt shakes his head. ‘Peter, what have we agreed about mistakes?’

‘Um, that it happens. That the important thing is to learn from them.’ Peter rubs his head. ‘I am sorry, Master. I won’t do it again.’

Matt pats his back. ‘I’d like you to go to the manor house, explain we have a very important guest visiting, and ask politely for a bottle of good wine. Ask politely but don’t beg. If he says no you simply come back.’

‘Do you think he will say no?’

‘No,’ Matt says with a smile, ‘then when you return I’d like you to light the roasting pit and put the lamb inside so it’ll be cooked for this evening.’

‘Sounds great,’ Peter says cheerfully.



It’s impossible for a mage to cast a spell on themselves. Matt has never wished to be able to cast a spell on himself as much as he does now. The speckled mirror shows the slight hint of grey at his temples and the livid purple scarring on his forehead and cheek. He was never a pretty youth but he’d been hoping to grow… distinguished. Instead he feels haggard and ancient. The last time they saw each other was at Hartwood. It seems like years ago but of course it was what… two months. He should have asked Nathan for some basic healing. It wouldn’t have looked the way it did before, Nathan has little skill with healing spells, but he could at least have reduced the vivid colour.

Matt bathes carefully and shaves closely before changing into a new robe. He hopes that he will not embarrass himself at the very least. It’s bad enough having to beg a favour. A favour that he would not be asking for and that in truth he wouldn’t be asking for if it wasn’t for his own, gnawing guilt over his father’s behaviour. Sins of the father still cut deep.



Peter carefully ignites the roasting pit and watches as the coals slowly begin to glow cherry red. Usually it would take hours but Peter has learnt that there are benefits to apprenticing for a mage aligned to earth, and one of those benefits is that animals are healthier, happier, and more fertile, while food cooks more quickly and is more nutritious.

As the air in the pit starts to heat Peter finds himself shivering with cold and shuddering at a peculiar sensation of pressure in the back of his mind. He pushes himself back from the pit and climbs uneasily to his feet. As he turns around he sees Matt emerge from the house, scowling and looking up at the sky.

‘Are we under attack, Master?’

Matt walks over and puts a hand to Peter’s forehead. ‘Well, you surprise me again, Peter. It’s a rare apprentice of so short a time would be able to feel a magical animal approaching, especially from such a distance.’ He drops his hand and instead points to the sky. ‘Do you see that?’

Peter stares into the sky. ‘It can’t be… Something pretending to be a dragon, Master?’

‘Not pretending, no. That’s our guest showing off. A damn dragon. It’ll scare the hell out of the villagers, and probably the lord and it’s disrespectful to the dragon. It’s not a damn horse.’

‘I’m going to get to see a dragon?’ Peter asks wide-eyed.

Matt smiles and squeezes his shoulder. ‘It’ll be hungry. Get a side of beef from the larder. Be quick.’

A dragon, Matt thinks as Peter runs to the house. Flashy, dramatic, and dangerous. Dragons are beautiful creatures; breath-taking from a distance and terrifying up close. A dragon isn’t an animal that can be tamed or domesticated; they’re too intelligent for that. They’re intelligent enough to know how easy it is to obliterate a human being, even a mage. Their actions are subject to their own whims and their reasons are their own.

Peter staggers out of the house holding a side of beef. He comes to a halt next Matt, drops the beef, and stands staring into the sky.

‘It’s so close now!’

‘I remember my granny telling me a dragon can put a girdle round the world before you can draw breath,’ Matt remarks.

‘I thought it’d be different. I can’t see its wings and I thought it’d be more pear-shaped. That’s like a snake with legs.’ Peter blushes. ‘If you know what I mean.’

‘I know,’ Matt says with a smile. ‘There are different types but that’s a Celestial Dragon. The Achaean dragons are the ones with the huge wings.’

Peter grabs Matt’s hand. ‘It’s going to land!’

The dragon circles overhead. The late afternoon sun glimmers and shimmers off the scales of the gleaming white dragon. It turns in tighter and tighter circles as it drifts down towards them until it lands in a perfect coil with its long tail flickered across its face so that only its huge dark eyes, taller than a man, are showing.

The man, who has been riding bareback, slides across the coils and onto the ground where he barely avoids turning his ankle.

Matt watches him gather himself up and proudly walk across the garden to them.

‘A dragon, Mohinder? Isn’t that extravagant even for you? Tomorrow I’m probably going to have every farmer for twenty miles needing their animals coaxing out from wherever they’re suddenly hiding.’

‘Will you be able to cope with hiding sheep do you think?’ Mohinder asks. ‘Perhaps you’ll need assistance to deal with that as well.’ He looks at Peter. ‘Is that for Salienne or are you in the habit of wandering around randomly groping meat?

‘Huh? Oh… uh… it’s for your dragon.’

‘That’s not his dragon,’ Matt corrects mildly. ‘People don’t own dragons. Anyone who think he does is in for a very rude awakening. Although I wouldn’t put it past a dragon to own a human.’

‘Go and put it in front of him,’ Mohinder says imperiously, ‘and don’t dawdle.’ He looks at Matt. ‘I hope there’s no chance your little apprentice is a virgin? You know what dragons are like for crunching them up.’

‘Are you asking me if my apprentice sex mage is a virgin?’

‘You realise of course that making free with wildlife doesn’t count?’ Mohinder inquires.

‘Let’s leave your teenage peccadillos out of it shall we?’

Mohinder smiles coldly. ‘I suppose this is why they say you should never go back. It’s such a shame to see age and infirmity ruin someone.’

‘You’re not that old, Mohinder.’

Peter jogs over, grinning broadly. ‘I think he even ate the bones.’

‘They’re not wasteful creatures.’ Mohinder draws his robe around him. ‘Are you planning on keeping me out here all night?’

‘You know where the house is,’ Matt says.

‘Oh, I should go wandering in should I? I’m not your eager apprentice now.’

‘I see that.’

Mohinder reddens as if caught out. ‘Some respect for my rank might be in order.’

‘I apologise for treating you as an old… acquaintance rather than standing on pointless ceremony to flatter your ego.’ Matt bows low. ‘Welcome to my humble home. Peter, please show The Mage to the back bedroom.’

‘I don’t want that one. I want the bedroom overlooking the fruit trees.’

‘You can’t have it,’ Matt says flatly.

Mohinder’s eyes narrow. ‘It is my old room.’

‘It’s Peter’s current room. The back bedroom is bigger anyway.’

‘Bigger and colder.’

‘It’s the middle of summer and you’re a fire mage. If you can’t keep yourself warm in summer then I’m not sure what use you are.’

‘If you were a better host I wouldn’t have to keep myself warm,’ Mohinder says, turning on his heel. ‘Come on then, apprentice, show me to my room and bring my case.’



Peter is huffing for breath as he drags Mohinder’s case up the stairs and into the back bedroom.

‘Someone’s redecorated in here,’ Mohinder says, looking around.

‘It wasn’t me. It was like this when I became My Master’s apprentice.’

Mohinder looks at him sideways. ‘It was quite a while since I was here last,’ he allows. ‘Matt’s had a number of apprentices since I left.’ He sits on the bed and snaps his fingers so that the case opens by itself.

‘I know. I was fortunate that he agreed to apprentice me.’

‘Hmm. You’re not the usual type he takes on.’ Mohinder raises an eyebrow. ‘Does he let you kiss him?’

‘I’m his apprentice!’ Peter protests. ‘My Master treats me in an entirely proper fashion.’

Mohinder rolls his eyes. ‘You are training to become a sex mage.’

‘There’s a difference between using my natural sexual urges to perform magic and pursuing a romantic relationship,’ Peter says with dignity. ‘That wouldn’t be right.’

‘Oh you sound just like him!’ Mohinder waves a hand and the case begins to unpack itself. ‘We don’t have to live without affection. Your brother has a family.’

‘He didn’t get married until he’d been a mage for five years already and I’m still training!’

Mohinder removes his shoes and rubs his feet. ‘I suppose there’s no point in my asking how he’s been.’

‘Why does everyone keep asking how he is?’

‘Oh, who else has been asking?’

Peter shrugs guiltily. ‘Nathan did. He was here earlier.’

Mohinder snorts. ‘He’s probably thinking how much extra work he’ll have if something happens to Matt. He works too hard.’

‘Nathan?’

‘Ha! No, Matt. This bloody sky spell is a perfect example. He knows better than to attempt this. I suppose his father is mixed up in it somewhere?’

Peter shifts uneasily. ‘I think his father killed the husband and the son.’

‘Wonderful. Maury continues to ruin Matt’s life from beyond the blasted grave. And why the hell hasn’t he had someone do something about those scars?’

Peter shrugs. ‘I’m not really advanced enough for that kind of thing.’

Mohinder softens a little. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest you should have done it. Have you found your alignment yet?’

‘Earth and water; Master says I have a knack for a healing but I’ve only just begun casting.’

‘In time you’ll be able to do some of the healing and fertility spells for him then. That’s good. These little farming communities mostly want that sort of thing. It’s not for anyone ambitious but Matt seems to like it well enough. I wish he wouldn’t work so hard. He’s always been the same. He doesn’t look after himself properly.’

‘I should go check on the lamb,’ Peter says weakly.

Mohinder waves his hand dismissively. ‘We mustn’t ruin Matt’s nice meal.’



Matt is setting out the table when Mohinder stalks into the kitchen.

‘Found your way downstairs, then.’

‘Were you concerned that I was debauching your apprentice?’

Matt picks up the bottle of wine and opens it carefully. ‘Peter is a grown man and you know that I encourage my apprentices to have a healthy attitude to their sexual impulses.’

Mohinder folds his arms across his chest. ‘He’s very attractive.’

‘Are you asking for my permission? He makes his own choices.’

‘No I bloody wasn’t!’ Mohinder snatches a chair and yanks it out. ‘Don’t be so obtuse.’

Matt pours three glasses of wine. ‘I get the feeling I’m being accused of something but I don’t quite know what it is or why.’

‘Why the hell haven’t you had someone fix that scarring?’

Matt blinks at him. ‘What’s that got to do with Peter?’

‘Oh, I’m not to talk about anything other than your little apprentice?’ Mohinder sneers.

Matt shakes his head. ‘I don’t know why it seems like every time I see you that you’re so angry.’

Mohinder stomps over to the door and flings it open. Peter, holding the leg of lamb on a platter, gives him a grateful smile.

‘Thank you, I thought I was going to have to kick the door.’ He staggers over to the table and puts the platter down in the middle.

‘Smells wonderful,’ Mohinder admits. ‘I was never a good cook.’

‘You were always the best at stopping pain,’ Matt says, sitting down.

Mohinder finds himself preening. ‘It’s not a particularly difficult illusion.’

‘It’s an air spell?’ Peter sits down and helps himself to potatoes.

‘Certainly,’ Mohinder agrees, ‘one that you’d do well to learn if you’re going to work in a village or some such.’

‘Why?’

‘Childbirth,’ Matt says. ‘Wise women can’t do much for that pain.’



After dinner Peter disappears upstairs.

‘Isn’t he going to clear the table?’ Mohinder asks as Matt stands up.

‘It’s his evening off. He’s romancing one of the girls in the village. Actually he’s romanced most of the girls in the village at one time or another.’

Mohinder stands up and helps Matt clear the table.

‘I can’t remember what I did on my evenings off.’

‘You studied a great deal as I remember.’ Matt fills the sink with warm water. ‘I used to worry you were working too hard.’

‘I wonder where I got that from.’ Mohinder leans against the counter. ‘Why’re you doing this sky spell, Matt?’

Matt stares down at the water. ‘Because once Peter suggested it I couldn’t refuse. My father killed her husband and son. All she’s got left is her daughter.’

‘You’re not responsible for Maury’s actions, Matt.’

‘Tell that to the people of Hartwood. Hell, tell Nathan and Bennet and the rest. People are frightened of me, Mohinder, they’re frightened because of what he did.’

Mohinder puts his hand over Matt’s. ‘If they’re frightened it’s because they know what you’re capable of now but that’s only because they don’t know you well enough not to be afraid.’

Matt’s mouth quirks into half a smile. ‘Nathan knows me as well as he needs to.’

‘He’s not afraid of you. Nathan doesn’t feel fear as other people do. When faced by something terrifying Nathan merely feels… peeved and possibly a bit offended.’

Matt laughs and squeezes Mohinder’s hand. ‘He was asking if I was working too hard. I wonder where he got that idea from?’

Mohinder meets his gaze unblinkingly. ‘He was coming this way in any event. How was I supposed to know that you’d suddenly take it into your head to ask me to come here? I can’t divine my own future.’

‘You didn’t have to wait for me to ask.’

Mohinder pulls his hand away. ‘I’ve always been very clear, Matt. The ball was in your court.’

‘That was years ago.’

‘What bearing does that have?’

‘You were a child, Mohinder,’ Matt says gently.

‘I was nineteen!’

‘You were my apprentice. You parents put you in my trust.’

Mohinder pouts and then raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not your apprentice now.’

Matt looks down at his hands. ‘It was years ago. You’ve grown up. I’m sure that you must have many lovers.’

‘Matt you have at least five former apprentices you could’ve asked for assistance with this spell and all of them closer than me.’

‘You’ve cast sky spells before,’ Matt says simply.

‘You didn’t ask me because of that. You asked me because you knew I’d come running.’ Mohinder stalks to the door. ‘I always come running when you ask. Think about that, Matt.’



The morning is clear and bright. As Matt looks out over the garden he realises there is no sign of the dragon, or even that it had been there at all.

‘I hope that beast isn’t out razing farms and eating cattle,’ he says as Mohinder drifts into the kitchen.

‘Probably,’ Mohinder says serenely, ‘after all he is a dragon, but he won’t be anywhere near here now. He was heading East to join his clan.’

‘He just gave you a lift did he?’

Mohinder sits down at the table. ‘Dragons have their own sense of honour, Matt. He was sick and I was able to offer some small aid. As it happened the end of his convalescence and receiving your message dovetailed rather nicely.’

Matt begins heating a kettle of water over the fire. ‘There I was thinking that it was simply you showing off.’

Mohinder grins brilliantly. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself, as if looking magnificent isn’t an integral part of being a mage.’



Breakfast is simple: bread and cheese washed down with weak beer. Partway through Peter staggers downstairs looking wan.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Matt asks. ‘Take a seat, quickly.’

‘Indeed, the room is too small for you to start lying about on the floor,’ Mohinder snorts.

‘I think she poisoned me,’ Peter says mournfully.

‘I think you drank too much ale last night,’ Mohinder says. ‘We ought to leave him in his natural state or he won’t learn.’

Peter looks at Matt with his best puppy dog expression. ‘Please Master? I promise I’ll be more careful next time.’

‘Promise me that you won’t go randomly accusing people of poisoning you.’

‘I promise!’

Matt makes a complicated gesture and the colour begins to return to Peter’s cheeks. ‘Consider yourself fortunate that it was nothing more complicated. I’ve no time for splashing about in a river today,’ Matt says severely.

‘No Master. Should I see to the animals?’

‘I’ve done it as you well know.’ Matt plays with his cup. ‘Perhaps you should visit your mother today. She probably misses you.’

‘My mom?’

Mohinder snorts. ‘What Matt means is: he’s worried that the sky spell cost will be a life, or lives, and he wants you far away somewhere safe.’

Matt glares at him. ‘Thank you, Mohinder!’

‘You’re quite welcome.’

‘I’m not going,’ Peter says quietly.

‘Yes, you are. Either you ride there or I have your mother send men to fetch you. Peter it’ll be a difficult spell and worrying about you will only make it more difficult.’

Peter’s bottom lip projects mutinously. ‘I can help. I have some power.’

‘We have more than enough raw power between us,’ Matt says, ‘and we cover three of the four elements.’

‘I have water! You don’t have water.’

Matt squeezes his shoulder. ‘Peter, I know you want to help but if you stay you will be at risk. There’s always a price and it’s normally the supplicant or the practitioner that pays it.’

‘Shouldn’t we warn the villagers?’

‘They’re not involved,’ Mohinder says, waving his hand. ‘These things are quite predictable in their own way.’

‘Master, you said there was a plague!’

‘A plague of rats,’ Matt points out. ‘Peter, please, I appreciate your loyalty but for your own sake I am asking you to visit your mother. She has more protective and defensive spells surrounding her compound then anywhere in the country.’

‘Oh for goodness sake!’ Mohinder takes Peter by the arm and pulls him out into the garden. ‘Are you in love with him?’

Peter blinks at him. ‘What?’

‘Are you in love with Matt?’

‘No! Course not!’

‘Then what on earth are you doing trying to insist on staying here when Matt is trying, for your own good, to send you away out of danger?’

‘You’re staying!’

‘Yes?’ Mohinder asks, narrowing his eyes.

Peter opens and closes his mouth. ‘Well. You’re here. You don’t have to be. Why is it okay for you to be here but not me?’

‘Number one, I’m a mage and I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.’

‘What’s the second thing?’

Mohinder stares at the other man. ‘Your mother paid Matt to apprentice you didn’t she?’



‘I’ll come back straight away when you say,’ Peter promises. ‘Send me a bird or a messenger or something.’

Matt embraces him and pats his back. ‘Don’t turn your mother into any strange creatures that you can’t turn back.’

‘Do you two need some time alone?’ Mohinder asks acidly.

‘Don’t let him get killed,’ Peter says to him sourly, before marching out to the waiting carriage.

‘Aww, he thinks he’s protective,’ Mohinder says.

‘He’s a good boy,’ Matt says, shaking his head. ‘I suppose we better prepare for the ritual.’



It is dark by the time they have bathed in the river, prepared the unguents, and mated the bull with all the cows. After they have eaten and made their final preparations they walk out into the moonlight for the spell itself.

‘We need a ladder,’ Mohinder says, looking up at the roof. ‘For the Sign of the Dragon King we need to start off the ground.’

‘I suppose I should be glad you aren’t proposing to start in a tree.’ Matt walks around the house and fetches the ladder.

‘It wouldn’t do for the ritual but we can always save the tree for some other time.’

Matt takes a deep breath and puts the ladder up against the wall. ‘Robes were not designed for climbing.’

‘Fear not: we will be removing them soon enough.’

Once Matt reaches the roof he puts down the jar of unguent and kicks aside fallen leaves and branches that have fallen.

‘Are you sure that you still want to do this?’ Mohinder asks as he undresses.

‘Yes.’

Mohinder walks over and picks up the jar of ointment. ‘It’ll be the mother, you know that. I suspect she knew it as well.’

‘I know.’ Matt rubs the scar on his cheek. ‘I hope we might divert it though. With two of us it’s possible.’

‘Divert it where?’

‘I have a couple of young bulls as well as the rest of the cattle.’

Mohinder opens the jar and scoops out a handful of ointment. ‘The Dragon King demands openness. Not merely coupling but passion.’ He slowly rubs it onto Matt’s chest and down to his stomach.

Matt nods and dips to fingers into the ointment and brings out a dollop. He smears the ointment over Mohinder’s belly and down into his groin.

‘It’s a long time since we’ve cast a spell together,’ Mohinder says, stroking his fingers over a welter of scars across Matt’s chest.

‘You’re far too important to be casting spells with a village mage such as me. I’m little more than a hedge wizard.’

Mohinder winces. ‘You know I didn’t mean that when I said it.’

‘You were quite angry at the time as I remember.’

‘As you have repeatedly pointed out I was very young.’ Mohinder scoops out more ointment and strokes his hand down to Matt’s groin. ‘I was also feeling very bitter and crossed in love.’

‘It wouldn’t have worked.’

‘We could’ve tried.’

‘It was my choice too,’ Matt points out. ‘It wasn’t just about what you wanted.’

Mohinder slides his arms around Matt’s waist. ‘You made that quite clear.’

‘You put me in an impossible position. If I said no you’d be hurt. If I said yes you’d have been happy for a while but it wouldn’t have lasted. You get jealous of Peter now. Imagine how you’d have felt if we were together when you were younger and I had apprentices.’

‘I’d have gotten over it,’ Mohinder says stubbornly.

‘You’re still bitter I said no,’ Matt says gently. ‘How much would you still be hurting when I’d broken your heart?’

‘How boringly melodramatic you are,’ Mohinder says, and kisses him.

Matt tenses and then begins to relax slowly. ‘I am boring. I’m very boring.’ His hands slide over Mohinder’s back.

‘I forgive you,’ Mohinder says generously. He captures Matt’s mouth again and closes his eyes as they kiss.

Matt feels the warmth of Mohinder’s body pressed against his and smells the faint hint of citrus in his hair.

Mohinder had always been his most promising student and he certainly fulfilled his promise but things had never been comfortable. Mohinder had been apprenticed before to a dozen different mages of varying types and alignments but he never lasted more than a few weeks. Bright but uncontrollable. The other mages accused him of lacking discipline but Matt knew that it desperation, not a lack of discipline. Mohinder was so starved of responsiveness from his parents he craved constant attention, even if it was negative. Realising that, Matt had given him clear boundaries and ensured that he gave Mohinder plenty of undivided attention. Bit by bit Mohinder had relaxed and then, just as it seemed peace was possible, Mohinder had slipped into Matt’s bed one night.

‘I always loved your smell,’ Mohinder murmurs. ‘Chestnuts and moss.’

Matt smiles against Mohinder’s mouth. ‘Should we still be talking?’

Mohinder looks down and smiles. ‘We’re nearly in position.’

Matt looks down and sees that they have risen into the air. ‘Try not to fall.’

‘You’ll never soar if you’re afraid to fall.’ Mohinder pulls Matt close and kisses him softly and deeply.

The starlight glimmers on their skin as they rise into the air; light and dark limbs entwined, the heat from lovemaking steaming gently in the night.



Light explodes across the sky like a night time sun. Wheat bursts upwards. Flowers flare and spread their perfume on the breeze. For a few brief moments daylight dawns at midnight.

At the village inn, Molly opens her eyes and sits up. ‘Mom?’



‘That felt different,’ Mohinder murmurs as his feet touch the roof. ‘There’s normally a sort of… aftertaste when the cost is taken.’

‘Would you divine it? I don’t want to,’ Matt says quietly.

Mohinder squeezes his hand. ‘Inside the house.’

Matt nods and ruffles Mohinder’s hair. They gather up their clothes and step down into grass that is suddenly knee high.

‘Did we do this?’

‘It’s never happened before,’ Mohinder admits, ‘although it is a more appealing prospect then someone else having done it.’

Matt looks around them before walking into the house. ‘As long as that’s all that’s happened.’ He takes Mohinder’s hand and leads him upstairs.

‘I thought that you wanted me to cast a divination?’

‘I do, but there’s no reason you can’t do it in comfort.’

Mohinder smiles as Matt leads him, not to the room he slept in last night, but to Matt’s own bedroom.

‘I’ve never been here with permission before,’ Mohinder observes.

‘There is a loaded sentence.’ Matt lets go of Mohinder’s hand and lights the fire.

‘That seems risky for someone naked.’ He empties the pockets of his robe and then carefully puts it aside. He sits cross-legged on the bed and picks up a piece of string and a stone from the small pile of pocket possessions.

‘Practice aids me,’ Matt says, walking back. He sits on the bed behind Mohinder, wraps his arms around Mohinder’s waist, and rests his chin on Mohinder’s shoulder. ‘Is this how you divine now?’

‘Don’t plague me. Your skill is fertility and mine is divination. Close your eyes.’

‘Why?’

‘So you can share my vision of course.’



‘None died,’ Matt says with relief. ‘None died and the child is well.’

‘No. None died.’

Matt opens one eye. ‘Why do you say it like that?’

‘In the entire country there were no deaths last night. Not one. Not even those people dying. Not even the people who should have died,’ Mohinder says, opening his eyes. He pats Matt’s arm and starts dismantling his divination kit. ‘Death is a natural part of life and instead of the price being unnatural death it was unnatural life.’

‘I know which I would choose,’ Matt says mildly. ‘Hold, I know that we have no idea of the consequences such as whether those people will simply die another day. But you cannot say last night was not successful.’

‘True,’ Mohinder admits. ‘We did something tonight. Bards are going to sing about it.’

‘I think it best we don’t take any credit for the spell or the consequences,’ Matt says doubtfully. ‘Those men who knifed the king in the back, for example, are unlikely to take kindly to the people who stopped his dying.’

Mohinder turns around to face Matt. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he says, and kisses Matt softly.

The End