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“You were almost killed,” Hokzuh corrects me, “and you almost got us killed with you. That was selfish. And like the snake said, impulsive.”

I grit my teeth, replaying my battle with Angma in my head. Though I won’t admit it, I know they’re right.

The wound on my hand is still bleeding, and I rip a piece of my sleeve to wrap it. Hokzuh may understand the language of the snakes, but he is not one, and he’s not immune to my venom.

There are arrows in his wings, and though he doesn’t show it, I can tell he’s in pain. As the last of the sun melts into the sea, we coast below the moon. Its edges are sharp tonight, and the sky bleeds the precise red of Angma’s eyes.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sometime after dusk, Hokzuh stumbles upon a fin-shaped island and drops me onto its beach. The sand is moist, and it feels heavenly against my wind-burned skin. Ukar is already searching for a place to burrow and heal, while Hokzuh lies unmoving.

I crawl toward him. “Hokzuh?” Hokzuh?

The dragon doesn’t respond. His back is to me, muscles wound tight as he releases a breath. Under the thin moonlight, his blood inks the sand. I reach over to inspect one of his wings. An arrow is lodged in the muscled ridge, practically stitching two of the pleats together. Before he has a chance to object, I pull it out.

He jerks away from me with a snarl.

“You have seven arrows in your wings, two in your back, and another in your thigh,” I point out. “You want to stay like that? You look like a pincushion.”

He snarls again, then jolts up before I can get any closer.

He’s breathing hard, shoulders heaving.

His wings won’t fold over his back like they did before. They stick out, one crooked and the other sagging. A tear in his right wing is especially bad.

“I used to make an ointment for Vanna that would help her wounds heal faster,” I say, doing my best to mask the worry in my voice. “It’s dark now, but I’ll gather the herbs in the morning. I’ll use my spear for now to splint your wing—”

“I don’t need some silly girl’s herbs and potions. Just help me into the water.”

An odd request, but he’s adamant.

I’m tired, and he’s heavy, but I manage to drag him to the edge of the sea. I can see the reflection of my hands as I help, and I avert my gaze. This is as close to the sea as I will get. I sit, cross-legged on the sandy bank, as he lowers himself into the water with his elbows.

Hokzuh doesn’t comment on my reluctance to go near the water. “So you’re not strong enough to lift me,” he notes instead, sounding calmer now. “I was wondering about that.”

“I could lift you,” I retort. “I just don’t want your sweat all over my clothes.” I smell myself and make a face. “Gods, I reek.”

Hokzuh wrinkles his nose in agreement.

“I was worried when they sent that demon out in the arena,” he says, after a brief stretch of silence. “A bit sloppy with your footwork, but you’re fast. And strong. Very strong.” He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it.

“Are you enjoying your bath?” I say tartly.

“Very much,” he replies. “This isn’t a bad island for resting a few days. It’ll be a while before I can fly again.”

I shoot up to my feet. “Not too long, I hope. My sister’s birthday is in two days.”

Hokzuh shrugs. “So?”

“The Demon Witch is going to kill her.”

Hokzuh cocks his head at the sea. From here, we can still see smoke from Angma’s ship. “I think your Mother Witch has other problems right now.”

“Demon Witch,” I correct.

“Angma isn’t a demon.”

“Yes, she is.”