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One step from the door, his shadow is upon me. His hand slaps over my mouth, sharp nails grazing my cheek. I ram my elbow up to his chin and jam my bone into his neck. I will kill him—I will kill all of them—before I become Meguh’s prize.

“Finish her, Hokzuh!” Meguh shouts from behind.

At that, my head snaps up. My eyes bulge; my heart leaps in my chest.

Hokzuh?

No, it can’t be. I must have imagined it.

For years, I’ve searched for the owner of that name. The name that the Serpent King promised would help me.

Serpents of Hell, my curiosity gets the better of me and I glance back at the dragon. It’s a mistake that costs me everything.

Meguh’s guards surround me. One yanks me back by my hair, and another gags me with a cloth, tying it so tight my temples throb. Then the dragon raises his arm like a club.

The last thing I see is Ukar, slithering up a guard’s leg and coiling himself under the shield on his back.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I spring up in the darkness, and my head thumps against a low ceiling. A string of colorful expletives spills from my mouth, but the words come out muffled.

Right, I’m gagged. I’m Meguh’s prisoner.

There’s a hemp sack over my head. Explains the darkness. I yank it off and untie my gag.

The new air clears my head, and I blink my eyes into focus. Four walls hold me in.

Just like home. Except the room’s swaying—back and forth, back and forth. The rhythm’s unrelenting, and if I watch the walls too long, I can feel my stomach start to rise to my throat.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

I am on a ship.

So much for going to Tai’yanan with Vanna, for being welcomed in the palace as the princess’s honored sister. So much for protecting Vanna from the Demon Witch.

My chest tightens with despair. I must be halfway to Shenlani now, seas away from Rongyo’s kingdom.

A thick coil of rope lies on the ground. It has been gnawed, which explains my free hands and feet. Ukar couldn’t have done this, could he?

“Ukar?” I call out.

No answer, but as I speak, I taste a bitter note on my tongue. A sedative of some sort.

Nice try, Meguh. I lick my lips clean of the poison. It will have no effect on me.

I get up. My sandals sink into something soft and moist on the floor, too rank to be dirt. Disgust pools in my gut. At least the pain in the back of my head, where that dragon struck me, is dulling.

That dragon, Hokzuh.

The name makes my breath burn in my lungs, singeing my composure. I’ve searched years for him. Searched the jungle, the fields, the valleys and low hills all over the island. Some days I even brought Vanna, carrying her on my back after rubbing camphor oil over her smooth skin so it wouldn’t attract mosquitoes. She helped me yell, “Hokzuh! Hokzuh!”

He’ll come looking for you one day, when you are older. You’ll need him, the Serpent King had said. I never had a chance to ask him what he’d meant, but I assumed this Hokzuh would break my curse and help me fight Angma. I assumed he’d be an ally.

I ball my fists.

The world rocks, and chains rattle down the slanted floor. I use the walls to steady myself.

Clank—I jerk back with a painful grunt. Metal bites into my neck, cold and unforgiving, and I choke as I fall against the wall.