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It becomes hard to breathe, even harder to hide what I’m thinking and look him in the eye. “Only Meguh and the captain,” I reply, “and they deserved it. I’m not the monster I look like. I wouldn’t kill just anyone.”

“Not even to save your sister?”

I flinch, and Hokzuh knows he’s struck a chord. “It won’t come to that,” I reply. “Angma is the only enemy I have left.”

Even as I say it, I know it isn’t true. As word of Vanna’s light spreads, many more will covet her. Many more will seek her power.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” says Hokzuh. “When it’s my time, I will have no hesitation. I’ll do anything to possess my pearl once more.”

“You’ll kill and murder innocents.”

“Whatever needs to be done.”

“Would you have killed your friends?” I ask quietly. “The ones who sailed with you.”

The scales on Hokzuh’s face darken. He won’t look at me. “Whatever needs to be done,” he repeats.

He picks up his pace, but I touch his arm. “You say that,” I whisper, “yet I don’t believe you. You’re not the monster you look like, either.”

I expect him to brush me away, to mutter that I’m a fool, but he doesn’t. Instead, his shoulders fall. There’s a crack in his voice when he speaks: “I don’t want to be.”

They are words I can understand better than anyone. They are words that erase the apprehension building inside me and replace it with a familiar hope. The tightness in my chest eases, and I inhale a deep breath.

“We’ll help each other,” I promise. “We’ll find a way.”

Hokzuh gives a single nod, and it is as though the air between us changes, lifts. He gestures toward the village, and rather than taking off on his own as he did before, he walks with me, side by side.

In the back of my mind, I know it will be a dangerous path to tread—becoming friends with the dragon who seeks my sister’s heart. But I don’t turn.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The village of Yappang looks like any other fishing town. There are about thirty houses built along the shore, with steeply sloped roofs designed to save rainwater. In the middle of the day, women are hanging clothes to dry and men stoke a fire while children toss a ball and kick it across the sand. Half a dozen wooden workboats litter the beach, anchored to bungalows that stand on stilts over the shallow sea. Nothing odd at all.

Except, if you look closely, in the murky water seethes a congregation of crocodiles.

Hokzuh strides ahead, but I crouch down by the reeds. “Give me a minute,” I say, adjusting the ties to secure my mask.

The dragon raises an unruly eyebrow. “Yesterday you wrestled a demon and you impaled a king through the heart. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a bunch of hapless villagers.”

“It’s just to avoid a scene. I don’t do well around strangers.”

“Do I look like I inspire the warmest of welcomes?”

No, but at least with his branched horns, his claws, his spiked black wings, he looks formidable. No one in their right mind would dare to throw stones at him, or strike at his head with the end of a fishing spear.

Me? I might have the face of a monster, but my body’s still that of a scrawny girl.

“Put down the mask,” says Hokzuh. “You have nothing to worry about. Nakri’s a friend; I’ve done business with her. The villagers will remember me. They might even bring gifts.”

“Gifts?” It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “For you?”

He grins. “Plenty of villages worship dragons, you know.”

“Not ones that look like you. Most dragons don’t walk on legs and have arms and wings….”

Hokzuh makes a point of ignoring me. “The grilled catfish here is scrumptious,” he goes on, smacking his lips. “A local specialty. They’ll probably bring a few platters, maybe with pearl necklaces and yellow orchids for your hair. Trust me, I’m popular here.”

I lower my mask. He sounds confident, so why does apprehension churn inside me?