Page 12

Aurora

I screamed as Damian ignored me and launched himself into the air and over the side of the roof. We plunged down toward the sharply angled mountainside as his wings caught the air and shot us out even farther so that there was nothing but air beneath us until the forested slope far, far below.

“You were taking too long,” he called back, his wings beating rhythmically as we gained some stability, curling southward around the mountain.

“We’re not on the clock!” I shrieked back. “You could have warned me. Ten seconds doesn’t make or break anything.”

“It might,” he said, lacking humor.

I frowned, my mind momentarily drawn away from the jaw-dropping horror of the sudden departure. What had he meant by that ? Why would it matter.

“This scepter doodad must be pretty important,” I mused, purposefully speaking loud enough for him to hear.

“You could say that.” This time, it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.

Banking sharply, forcing me to throw myself flat to his neck and hold on for dear life, Damian took us soaring out across the landscape below, all too quickly reminding me of where I was.

“So far up,” I said dizzily, staring at the trees flashing past. “So far …”

“Look up, Aurora. Focus on the horizon,” Damian ordered.

“Okay,” I said, the vertigo fading somewhat as I looked out instead of down. “Hey, that helps! Thank you.”

“Just making sure I don’t have to fill out the paperwork.” His sense of humor and delivery were so dry it was hard to know he was joking.

I smacked his neck with my fist in response since I did know and didn’t find it funny.

Either he didn’t feel it, or he ignored it.

“So, what’s the plan?” I called, forced to raise my voice so he would hear me over the rush of the air. “Once we get to where we’re going, I mean.”

“I’m going to ask my contacts some questions. You’re going to stay in the marketplace and out of my way.”

I frowned. “Why are you bringing me along then, if you’re just going to get rid of me?”

Damian twitched. It ran down his neck and across his spine. “I’m not bringing you,” he corrected. “You insisted you wanted to come to the market. That has no bearing on what I’m doing. I simply agreed to give you a ride.”

“Oh.” He was right. I had kind of barged my way into coming along. When that had morphed into me helping him, I wasn’t sure. But why would he want such a thing? I didn’t even know what the Scepter of An-whatever did. Nor did Damian seem likely to tell me.

“Don’t worry, you can spend some of my money,” he grunted, thinking my silence was one of disappointment at being unable to shop. “I’m sure you could use some more clothing.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, not thinking if he could hear me over the wind or not.

We flew for several minutes, during which I grew more accustomed to riding on the back of a dragon than I had any right to. From the vantage point of however-far-up we were, I could see everything, and it was beautiful.

“Coming up on our destination,” Damian announced as a cluster of things on the horizon quickly resolved into a large town made of stone and wood construction.

In the air, other dragons circled, some moving in to land casually on open areas that had to be designed for just such a purpose. Others flew in lazy circles, keeping a watch on everything from their lofty positions.

As I watched, a bright blue dragon appeared in an open square, spread its wings, and took off, heading to my left.

Watching it all was so different. I kept comparing it to the videos humanity possessed of dragons in combat. There, they wheeled and dove with terrifying speed and lethality, spewing fire and lightning across anything that moved.

The scene before me was more like watching people enter or leave a grocery store. Utterly and totally anathema to someone who’d only known dragons via the war.

It reminded me that they, too, were people. Living, breathing creatures. Perhaps if we could see more of each other like this, there could be a chance for lasting peace.

Damian angled toward one of the open squares near the middle of the town, flaring his wings at the last second before touching down. There was a slight bump as we came to a full stop, but otherwise, it was perfectly smooth.

“My compliments to the pilot,” I teased as I climbed down the extended wing.

“Careful when you stand up, you might find—”

I stumbled as my feet hit the land, and it swayed beneath me, forcing me to crouch with a hand on the ground.

“—it takes a moment to get your land-legs back the first time.”

“Uh-huh,” I moaned, my stomach suddenly indicating it wasn’t okay. “What the hell is this?”

“Not everyone is a smooth flyer,” he advised. “Hopefully, it was just the first time, but it could be a regular thing for you. We’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“Lovely.” It was already fading.

Forcing it aside, I got to my feet. At some point, Damian had shifted back, and now he stood at my side, ready to catch me if I was forcing it too soon.

“I’m fine,” I promised, shaking him off. “I’m not going back down.”

But Damian didn’t budge. He stayed right at my side, waiting without saying a word until I felt ready to move. Even then, he walked next to me. He didn’t hover, didn’t invade my space. Instead, he simply let it be known to me that if I needed him, he was there.

It was appreciated.

Once I was fully recovered, Damian led me into the center of the town, toward the market. I could smell it far before we reached it. Fresh fish was a ubiquitous scent. There was nothing quite like it.

“We’re not near the coast. Why does it smell so fishy?”

“Dragons love fish. It makes them happy. Besides, it’s easy enough to carry a net from the coast.”

“Oh. So, fish is your dessert, is that it?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

Other spices and the acridity of fresh burning wood fires helped to tone it down, and by the time we’d reached the market itself, the cacophony of sounds and minor scents forced the fishy aroma to the background.

Colors abounded, from gaily colored pennants flapping in the breeze to the clothing worn or sold by many of the merchants. Everything was designed with an eye to catching the gaze and holding it long enough to generate interest.

After I was caught up by the third booth in a row, listening intently to the sales pitch about some trinket or shirt, Damian put an arm around my shoulder and guided me past them, ensuring we continued to walk at a decent pace.

Buckets of food just sat out front of stalls, from fruits and vegetables to breads, cheeses, and more. I watched people move between the rows of food, picking and choosing what they wanted, before they headed into a tent or up to the proprietor to arrange payment.

Well, almost all.

My eyes caught a youth moving between two stalls, looking left and right, before his hand darted out, snatching a pair of apples and making them disappear into the giant pockets of his baggy pants. Then he glanced around to see if he’d been spotted.

I looked away, unwilling to make a fuss about a hungry child, even while realizing it felt just like some of the big open-air markets back home. Complete with the pickpockets. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about anything of mine being stolen. No phone, money, or even passport. Just the clothing on my back.

Glancing up at Damian, intending to mention to him how perhaps our people were more alike than any of us realized, I caught him staring down at me with disappointment.

Before I could ask him why, he strode forward and intercepted the young dragon before he could take off with his prize. Rushing after the speedy dragon, intending to interfere, I skidded to a halt as Damian caught the child’s arm before crouching down in front of him so he could look the child in the eyes.

My initial fears about what sort of “justice” Damian the Magistrate might mete out were put on hold as he spoke calmly.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked the youth, keeping his voice low so as not to cause a scene.

The child nodded.

“Who am I?” Damian pressed.

“The magistrate,” the child said glumly, knowing he was in trouble.

“What’s your name?”

“My friends call me Ernie.”

“Okay, Ernie. Do you know why you’re in trouble with me?”

I watched curiously, wondering what Damian’s intention with the child were. So far, his attitude wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

“Because I took something.”

Damian didn’t look pleased with the answer, and the youth picked up on it.

“Because I took something that didn’t belong to me,” he repeated, adding on the full extent of his crime.

“Exactly.” Damian motioned with his other hand for the apples and waited while the young child coughed them up from the depths of his pants. Putting them back in the bin without looking away from the boy, he glanced at the child’s unclad feet. “Are you going to do this again?”

“No, Magistrate.”

“Good. Now, tell me, why did you do that, Ernie? You’re obviously a smart kid. You know it’s wrong. Is everything okay at home? Are you not eating? There are places you can get food from. Do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Ernie kicked at the ground.

“So, why don’t you use them?”

“The other kids make fun of me if I do,” he said. “Call me names and stuff.”

“Kids can be mean,” Damian said knowingly. “Have you ever called someone names before?”

“Well, yeah, but …” Ernie fell silent as he got Damian’s meaning. “Oh.”

“Exactly. So, maybe stop calling them names, and they’ll stop doing the same to you.”

“Maybe.” Ernie didn’t sound like he believed it.

I didn’t either. Kids were absolutely vicious that way.

“Now, you know what you have to do, don’t you, Ernie?”

The child cringed. “Do I have to, Magistrate?”

“Yes,” Damian said gently. “Justice must be seen to. You broke the rules. Now, you must pay the price. It’s really not that bad.”

“I guess.” Ernie hung his head low and trudged up to the stall’s entrance where a shopkeeper sat out of sight of where the incident had occurred.

I watched Damian, who had his eyes on Ernie as he apologized to the owner for what he’d done. At first, the owner shot up from his chair, but upon catching sight of Damian, he understood what was going on and dialed his temper back down.

I heard him say something about honesty, and then he shooed Ernie from his shop. Damian did the same, watching until the child was gone from sight.

It was all so unlike the chewing out he’d given me down in the restricted area. Calm and polite, explaining things clearly and then doling out a punishment.

I started to smile at him as he came back, prepared to ask why the difference, but Damian spoke first, cutting me off. “You saw it happen. You knew what it signified, and yet you were going to ignore it.”

He shook his head while I stood there, flabbergast by the outburst. But then he hit me with an even worse line.

“I’m disappointed in you for not saying anything,” he said before walking again.

I stared at his back, trying to ignore the giant knot of organs where my stomach had been. I was flabbergasted. There was absolutely no need for the wave of guilt that slammed into me.

Why ? I asked myself repeatedly as my legs started working again, carrying me after Damian. Why do I care so much about disappointing this man?