Alexa opened her mouth to speak but Ryc cut her off. "I'm surprised you don't remember me, Tarsuinn. We go way back."
Tarsuinn narrowed his gaze. A flicker of recognition faded quickly, and he shook his head. "Sorry, I don't recall. But I tend to dismiss the weak and stupid from my mind. Takes up valuable space." He turned away, but spun back when Ryc laughed.
"You didn't always consider me weak and stupid, Tars. In fact, that’s how you always felt when you were around me."
Tarsuinn’s eyes narrowed and he stepped closer. "No one makes me feel that way, peasant."
Ryc laughed again, this time with true pleasure. "That’s a good one. Calling me a peasant. I've been a lot of things, but never that." He looked across at Alexa, who was still, watching them. "Not that being a peasant has ever been a bad thing." A furrow formed between Alexa’s eyebrows, but she said nothing. "Truth is, Tarsuinn, our entire lives have come down to this. Well, my entire life, anyway. Four of yours."
Tars eyes widened again and shock entered them. "No. I would have known. You can't—it can't—how?"
Ryc felt the surge through his body. "Temporarily, I'm afraid." He looked at Alexa. "I'm sorry."
Tarsuinn ran to the wall and hefted a pike. "No! You can not defeat me! I will end this now!" Yelling a battle cry, he leapt at Ryc.
Too late. Ryc felt the pike strike his chest just as the transformation began.
#
Alexa watched with horror as the pike moved through the air. She yanked at her bonds, tried to slide her hands through the irons, knowing even if she succeeded she'd be too late to do anything. Her heart screamed though her voice was frozen. More than she wanted Cyrgyn to live, she wanted Ryc to.
Then she discovered the desire was one and the same.
For years afterward, though the scene would play itself over and over in dreams, she'd never be able to describe exactly how it happened. One moment Tarsuinn was racing across the stone floor, prepared to kill Ryc. The next he was on the floor, nearly on his back, and towering over him was a golden dragon.
Cyrgyn’s wings, open to their full span, beat the air and sent waves of wind across the room. His head back, he roared in outrage. Fire belched upward, to extinguish against the ceiling. Tarsuinn scrambled backward on his elbows and heels, then stood when he'd reached the wall.
"You!" he shouted.
"Me." Cyrgyn’s foreclaws thudded to the floor. "You did not think I would let you take her without a fight, did you, Tarsuinn?"
Tars lifted his hands. "Nay, old friend. I did not." He let loose a ball of fire.
