Page 14

Aurora

“Y ou don’t want ‘my kind’ here?” I pitched my voice loud enough that all could hear me. “Am I understanding your screams correctly?”

I hadn’t gone looking for a fight. It had found me, courtesy of the crotchety old-timer standing in front of me with his face all twisted up amid a tantrum of toddler-esque proportions.

“That’s exactly right!” he hollered. “You don’t belong. We don’t want you!”

“Why not?” I asked, crossing my arms, the bag holding my clothing bouncing off my hip.

Things had been going great. I’d gone shopping, as directed by Damian, and bought myself some nice shirts and a couple pairs of pants, among other things. As I was finishing up, I’d become aware of the man and a woman who I assumed was his wife. He was watching me, muttering angrily under his breath.

My hope had been that by leaving the store, it would be the end of it. He would stay with his wife, do more shopping, and I could go on about my life peacefully. Instead, he’d followed me out, and the confrontation had begun.

Unfortunately for him, in a war of words, he was hopelessly outmatched.

“Because this is our place. Not yours!” he shrieked.

“Does talking louder make it more true?” I asked, inviting him to demonstrate how he truly felt even more.

“Humans don’t belong here!” he retorted. “You aren’t wanted.”

That was the one part of it that confused me. Without me saying anything, the man had just instinctively known I was human. I would have to ask Damian about that because I certainly didn’t feel too out-of-place just walking the street. It wasn’t as if they meandered around in their dragon forms while I was the only one on two feet. So, what was the tell?

“What makes you think I want to be here?” I asked. “Do you think I just hopped on a plane and came to visit because of the hospitality shown by the locals?”

“Then go back where you came from!”

I bared my teeth in challenge. “Get me the permission to, and I’ll gladly go.”

Although I tried to put as much desire into my statement as I could, a part of me held back. After all, leaving would mean having to confront my father and what he was doing, which wouldn’t be pretty. But more immediately, it would mean never seeing Damian and those mysterious gray eyes of his ever again.

“The sovereign should never have brought you here,” the old man countered.

“Moving the goalposts because your argument is suddenly null and void. How classic,” I said tiredly, shaking my head. “Your point has nothing to do with me. Unless, of course, you think I somehow control your sovereign.”

“You should leave.”

“How? Seriously, is there a way for me to go back home? I would gladly take it if you could show me.”

“You could swim.”

Swim? Interesting. So, I’m on an island. That would help explain how we’ve never come across the dragons before.

“Too impolite to help me find a boat?”

“For a human like you? Yes!”

“You’re getting really worked up about this,” I observed, keeping an outward air of calm.

“I’m not afraid to show my feelings,” he snapped.

I grinned. I had him now. A war of words was exactly what I was good at.

“No, no, I can see that,” I said. “You haven’t been afraid to show your fear at all.”

“What?” The older man blinked, his forehead acquiring a few extra wrinkles as he tried to understand what I meant.

“Humans. You’re afraid of humans. Isn’t that what this whole outburst has been about? You’re afraid of me, of us. Thinking we’re going to come to your precious island and do something. I don’t know. All eight of us, we sure are terrifying. Going to make life very difficult for you.”

I looked around the crowd for support but couldn’t find it. Nobody was on my side. Did they all hate humans that much?

All of a sudden, I realized I had erred and erred badly. They all looked human, but they weren’t. They were dragons, and many of them didn’t like being told that their internalized hatred was because they were scared.

A low growl circled us. The noise empowered the older man, who’d just been challenged and found wanting in a battle of verbal wits.

Which left him only one way out.

“Are you calling me a coward?” the old dragon hissed. “Saying I’m afraid of you, is that it?”

Uh-oh.

I stepped back, trying to keep my distance, but he was too fast. His fingers reached for my neck, his right hand cocked back.

You’re an idiot. You should’ve known better.

Leaning back, I braced for the blow, wondering if I’d survive it. Probably not.

I closed my eyes, knowing there was nothing else I could do.

There was a gasp and then silence from the crowd, followed by the meaty impact of flesh on flesh echoing sharply in the suddenly silent street. Someone grunted loudly in pain.

But I remained untouched.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes. My gaze took in the scene before me as I desperately tried to understand what had happened.

“Damian?”

“Are you okay?” He looked up at me from his position on the back of the elder dragon-man, who he was keeping down with a knee in his back.

“What? Yes, I’m fine.”

He looked me up and down as if to confirm that nothing had happened and then turned back to the other dragon. When he spoke, it was loud enough for the entire crowd to hear.

“The Sovereign of All Dragonkind has invited these women to come live among us,” he said in strong, clear tones. “That means they are her personal guests. Any insult or injury that comes to them is considered done to the sovereign herself. Any dragon who commits such a crime will be seen fit to be deal with by the law. Do I make myself clear?”

There was muttered assent from the crowd, which quickly dispersed. None, it seemed, were willing to take up the argument with Damian the Magistrate.

“Thank you,” I said as Damian got to his feet.

“Stay down,” Damian ordered, putting a foot on the elder dragon’s back as he tried to rise. “You can get up when we’re good and gone. Until then, you can lie on your face and save us the embarrassment of seeing it. You’re a disgrace to our people. If you think you’re so much better than a human, act like it, and don’t whine like an infant.”

Before I could say anything or get a last word in, Damian took me by the arm and steered me away.

“You already embarrassed him,” he said quietly. “Leave it be. He doesn’t need to be carved up any further by you. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” I asked, surprised by the choice of words. “He started it.”

“Yes, he did,” Damian agreed. “And like me, he misjudged you. A lot. Thankfully, only he volunteered to do so in public.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded like a compliment, but it was hard to be certain.

“You’re stronger than I thought,” Damian said once we had moved away from the scene to calmer streets.

“Thanks? I try to work out, but—”

“Not physically,” he said. “But here. And here.”

He touched my head and then again over my heart, looking intently at me as he did. “Your spirit.”

“Oh. That.”

We stopped walking, one of us looking up. The other looking down. Around us, the crowds parted and joined, flowing like water around two rocks, caught in a moment, unwilling to be the first to move and give way.

In that circle of tranquility, something changed. A tiny shift, with seismic repercussions, that neither of us truly understood.

Not yet, at least.