(The Dark Servant)Midnight Matters by A. Ellas (best free ebook reader .TXT) 📕

so that they were behind the priest. Scorth set his wings into a shallow dive. By the time they were close enough to shoot, they would be low enough. Jisten gained an appreciation for how far away an aerial hunter could spot movement. They were miles out, and as a result, Murson had plenty of warning. Scorth was far from silent. He was no owl, and the wind whistled over his wings, almost a howling sound, and hair-raising in timbre. He was also black, which made him startlingly obvious in the daytime sky, which was a fact that neither Scorth nor Jisten had given a moment’s thought to.

The sun priest’s golden blast of energy was almost as large as Scorth himself. A golden gryphon rose from the Sun Temple and screeched a challenge as it arrowed up towards Scorth. Undeterred, Jisten fired his crossbow at Murson.

The bolt burst into golden flames and was gone. Scorth dove to the right, losing altitude to gain speed. They shot past the gryphon, who screeched angrily. Jisten flattened himself against Scorth’s back as he reloaded the crossbow.

Murson sent another blast at Scorth and the dragon returned the favor. Golden fire met dragonfire. The explosion flattened everyone in the street for a distance of a hundred paces, and shattered shards of glass rained to the street from every windowframe in the blast radius.

The gryphon stooped on Scorth, sinking long talons into the dragon’s flank. Jisten twisted around and shot it. Scorth’s jaws snapped shut on one of the gryphon’s wings. He ripped the smaller beast off and flung it to the street, aiming at Murson. The sun priest chanted and the beast dissolved before it hit him.

Scorth sent a second blast of fire at the priest. A shield sprang up in time. Jisten cursed as he reloaded his crossbow.

We can’t win this fight, said Scorth glumly. Rak was screaming at him to retreat.

Jisten could hear Rak. “Do as he says.” He stripped off his simple black and tan Valer jacket and threw it at Murson in hopes that Rak wouldn’t be blamed. Scorth powered back into the sky, quickly turning away from the city. He flew to the ice lake, where Rak would meet them.

Scorth landed beside the lake, rather than in it, and nearly collapsed when his right rear leg buckled. Jisten slid off Scorth and ran to that leg. Scorth turned his head to survey the damage. It looks like I ripped a gryphon off of it. Deep, bloody furrows attested to the length of the foe’s talons.

“Because you did?” Jisten asked.

Rak will heal me

, added Scorth.

“It would have been worth it if it had worked,” Jisten said.

It didn’t occur to me that he’d be ready for us. Do you think someone tipped him off?

“Or maybe a big black dragon dropping out of a daytime sky was a bit obvious,” Jisten sighed. “He had a lot of warning.”

I hadn’t thought of that.

“Neither did I,” Jisten said. “I thought we would be a bit closer. But it’s my fault. I’ll have to kill him myself.”

The thunder of hooves alerted them to Rak’s arrival. Vyld, Zala, and Vrema pulled up with much snorting of smoke and tossing of manes. Rak just about flew off Vyld’s back, wings spread in agitation. “There will be no more attempts on that sun priest! Twice you have tried, and twice you have failed! Next time, one or both of you might be killed!”

Jisten backpedaled into Scorth’s side. Rak followed him until they were chest to chest and then touched his cheek. “I love that you want to defend me, and avenge me, but please, stop. He will not hesitate to kill you.”

Jisten turned his face to Rak’s hand and kissed it. “I can’t just stand by and let him abuse you.” He put his arms around Rak. “What sort of man would I be?”

“I understand,” said Rak. “But I would be devastated if you died, and so would Scorth.”

“Do you really want a coward who stands aside while you are raped?”

“You have proven that you are not a coward,” said Rak after a moment. “Now stop trying to kill him.”

Jisten held Rak close to him, so that his baritone chuckle rumbled through the smaller man. “You are so very persuasive. But how can I stop, when the abuse has not stopped?”

Rak looked up with a wry smile on his lips. “That is not an agreement.”

Jisten smiled back. “Very perceptive, High Priest.” He kissed him to stop the conversation. Which also was not an agreement.

Scorth heaved a sigh and prodded Rak.

Heal me. It hurts.

Jisten once more heard Rak as he retorted mentally, That is what you get for ripping a gryphon off your haunch. But he broke off the kiss and turned to survey the damaged leg.

“For that, I am very sorry,” Jisten said, wondering why he was now able to hear Rak as easily as he did Scorth. He’d been tested for magical talents at puberty, like all adolescents were, but the priests hadn’t found anything. So he had no idea why he could hear the dragon and his rider, but he appreciated the gift of that ability, wherever it had come from. “I won’t involve Scorth in any further attempts.”

“He chose to assist you,” said Rak. “His injuries are his own fault, not yours.” Rak laid hands on the wounds and chanted, calling his power. He was slumped with exhaustion by the time he was done. Scorth’s wound healed, he laid his head down and closed his eyes.

Jisten let his hands wander down Rak’s wings, just to make sure that Rak was distracted from his former train of thought. Rak’s hands worked their way under Jisten’s patched tunic. “I have never seen you dressed in anything but your uniform,” said Rak in a husky voice.

Encouraged, Jisten let his hands caress the leading edges of the wings, from shoulder-joint to elbow-joint to wrist-joint. Rak unbuckled Jisten’s belt and slid his hands down Jisten’s