Page 143 of Blood Fist
Like a mist that settled over the grass just before dawn on a scorching summer night, it lingered in the air. Gossamer and decadent, it rippled with an unseen wind as if it couldn’t stand still. Shimmering, not under the light of the sun, but from its own brilliance. So thin in some places it was almost not there at all and in others it was thick enough that he could grab it.
The curiosity was too much. Tentatively, Ridan reached out and touched the golden veil. For a moment, he thought there was nothing there at all, but then something parted under his fingers. So soft, it almost didn’t exist at all, but when he looked at his fingers, he could see a sheen of gold. It reminded him of the time he and Jonen spent an afternoon catching the big butterflies that flew in for a month in the spring.
Bigger than their two hands combined, the butterflies would suddenly appear. Their wings as colorful as a sunset. They’d flit above the flowers, darting among the stalks, and if the boys were still enough, they’d land onthem. Their long spindly legs tickled their skin, and when the boys giggled, they would fly off in a huff.
Ridan had touched one of their wings once. It had been an accident. He’d only wanted to catch one to show his mom and Momma Sehleh. But when his hands closed around the butterfly, its wings had smeared across his skin. Buttery soft, they left nothing but their vibrant colors behind.
It was through this gold that Ridan watched himself die.
He watched Brune run to him, knees skidding through the sand as he pulled him into his lap. He watched his face crumple in horror, twisting, then shattering as he held Ridan. His mouth moved, but Ridan couldn’t hear him. He could only watch as Brune’s hands moved over the gaping hole in his chest, hovering above it like the butterflies over the flowers. Jonen and Corric weren’t far behind. They didn’t see the pool of blood or Cyrill’s desiccated body. They ignored the dead soldiers and the chunks of mountain on the ground.
Jonen raked his hands through his hair, looking out over the mountain as if someone would pop from the bushes and make everything right.
Corric fell to his knees, face blank as he took in Ridan’s limp form.
Brune kept screaming, holding Ridan close to him as if he hugged him tight enough, the broken pieces of his body would stick back together.
Ridan watched the final moments of his life with the cool detachment of acceptance. He didn’t want to die, but he knew the moment he grabbed the scale that he would.
Because magic has a price. Magic can’t come fromnothing, and it can’tbenothing. Not without something taking its place. Ridan paid the price with his beating heart, and the scale collected.
Destroy yourself.
He accepted his fate the moment he gave the command. What he hadn’t accepted was the fallout. The pain on Brune’s face. He hadn’t anticipated the consequences of his actions.
His chest twinged, the first hints of pain he’d felt since he closed his eyes. Too many emotions to identify choked him, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears that caught on his lashes before falling in golden streaks down his cheeks.
Ridan wanted to step forward, sift through the golden veil, and reassure them. Lay a hand on Brune’s shoulder. Beg him to stop. To put him down and walk away. To leave an indelible smear of gold on Brune so he would know. Know all the things Ridan hadn’t had the time to say. Know that in the back of his mind, he’d planned a future. When the war with Kaldonea was nothing more than a lesson taught to bored children, when Peppercorn’s vibrant coat was grey and her joints were stiff, when the Stone Blade had rebuilt—there was a future for them.
A future where Ridan could share his nest and Brune would build them a hearth big enough to keep them warm on the coldest of nights. One where the marks on their necks were joined with a lifetime of scars they’d earned together.
But like the butterflies that appeared and disappeared so suddenly, that future was gone. Leaving nothing but the smear of a wing behind.
Ridan rubbed the gold on his palm and tried to ignore the scene in front of him. His body lookedstrange. Lifeless and cold. Whatever made it more than just meat on bones was gone. Just a ruined husk.
More people arrived, but Ridan didn’t want to look. As they tried to pull Brune away, he fought them. Thrashing and drawing blood in his fight to keep Ridan with him. He wished he would let go. Let them lead him down the mountain.
“They love you.”
Ridan stiffened as the voice washed over him. It was the first thing he’d heard since he’d opened his eyes in this new filigreed world. And yet, it didn’t surprise him. The voice sounded like the golden veil. It floated around him, each syllable brushing against his skin like a lazy breeze.
He turned, not with trepidation, but with curiosity. Somehow, he knew what he’d find before he finished turning.
Artrax was everything Ridan expected him to be. Massive, all angles and hard planes. Just one of his claws was the length of Ridan’s arm. His tail stretched out so far Ridan couldn’t see the end. Two wings settled against his barreled body; thin membranes stretched between finger like bones. The deep purple eyes watching him from underneath thick ridges were the only soft spot on the dragon. Affection simmered in those jeweled irises.
And gold. It shouldn’t look so impressive, surrounded by the color as he was, but it was different. Artrax’s scales rippled like a gilded sea. It was as if every other iteration of the color was just that.A color.But his scales were the real thing. The very first. It was nearly blinding.
Save for one small, blank area. An empty slot where a single scale was missing on Artrax’s shoulder.
His long neck lowered to peer at Ridan. He could better see the horns protruding from the back of his school, long and sharp. Even with his claws and sharp teeth peeking out from beneath his lips, Ridan felt no fear. Just an overwhelming sense of awe and safety.
“For all my magic, all my strength, that is the one thing that is wholly human.” He turned to Ridan, eyes sparkling with pride. “It’s why you are so special.”
He met those eyes that were so much like what he’d fantasized as a child. He had to wonder if it was his fantasy. A dream he’d conjured to ease the pain of death.
Ridan swallowed. “Has…has my fight ended?”
Artrax blinked at him, the ridges above his eyes raising slightly. “Do you want it to be?”