A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,70

us. His father, his brother, the Lady Lyana, even his little sister—they had all flown to distant Oldnale Farms for a feast. The courts of Requiem had emptied; only he, Prince Elethor, remained to rule.

But I intend to spend the entire time here in bed with this very beautiful, very naked woman.

He ran his hand again over her curves, from waist to hip and back. She reached under the blankets, sneaked her hand into his pants, and closed her fingers around him. She smiled softly and kissed him. They had made love last night for what seemed like hours; in the dawn, he loved her again until she screamed and scratched his back so violently, he bled.

A day for us. A free day. A perfect day.

They held each other close in bed. They closed their eyes under the soft light, and they slept again, and they did not wake until noon.

Finally Solina rose from the bed, walked to the window, and stretched before the trees that rustled outside, nude and golden and drenched in light. She was a work of art to him, greater than any statue he could sculpt. She looked over her shoulder at him.

"Wake up, sleepy," she said. "I'm hungry."

She stepped toward the bed, pulled the blanket off him, and wrapped it around herself. He rose with a grunt, embraced her, and kissed her head. They held each other closely for long moments before breaking apart, stepping into his pantry, and rummaging for food.

They filled a basket with bread rolls, a jar of preserves, smoked sausages, a slab of butter, a wheel of tangy cheese, and hard yellow apples. They took their meal outside and sat upon the grass beneath the cypresses. She wore nothing but the blanket wrapped around her shoulders; he wore only his woolen trousers. Below the hill where Elethor had built his home rolled the city of Nova Vita: the palace of marble columns, the domed temple, and the cobbled streets that snaked between birches.

That palace is empty now, he thought. The day is ours: a day of sunlight, a day of peace, a day of Solina.

"What will we do today?" he asked as they ate. "Walk through the forest? Go swim in the lake? Maybe visit the library and read old books?"

She yawned magnificently. "Too hard." She lay back on the grass, and her hair spread out around her like molten white gold. The sunlight danced upon her face. "I'm just going to lie here all day." She reached out, grabbed him, and pulled him back. "And you will lie here with me."

He lay on his back watching the clouds, and she nestled against him, and soon she slept again. He kissed her forehead and held her in his arms, and her breath danced against his neck. He closed his eyes, Solina warm against him.

This is the best day of my life, he thought. Here and now, this is perfect. This is all I ever want. Never let this end.

A shriek tore the day.

Elethor opened his eyes and found himself in darkness. Solina slipped into shadow, and he tried to grab her, and his heart ached at her loss, and then the shriek sounded again and he covered his ears.

He rose from the cold stone floor and looked upon a shadowy, dusty tunnel. His body ached, and dried blood covered his left arm. At his side, children cowered and held one another. The shriek sounded again, coming from far above through walls of stone—the nephilim circling above the temple ruins.

Elethor clenched his jaw. His dream faded, the last warmth of sunlight and Solina's embrace falling into a deep, throbbing cold.

He grimaced. He had slept in his armor, and every muscle and joint in him groaned. The mossy brick walls pressed close around him. The root of a great tree thrust down through the ceiling, splitting the room. Behind the root, a dozen more Vir Requis huddled—the young twins and ten others who had scurried inside. They had been hiding here for six days now, drinking what rainwater dripped through the ceiling and eating only what supplies they had carried in their packs and pockets.

The screech sounded again from outside, a cry torn in agony. The tunnel where they hid shook and moss rained from the ceiling's bricks.

"Something is going on out there," grumbled Garvon. The leathery, one-eyed man huddled against a wall, his white beard caked with mud. "I don't like this."

Elethor frowned and found himself agreeing. The past three days had