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19

MUST STAY IN CHARACTER

I wrapped my arms around me and went outside to get the smell of Minkin’s blood and hot flesh out of my nose. But smells weren't the only things overwhelming my senses, and I needed to get away from all of it. So, I went back to where we had planned to set up camp, sat on the ground, and cleansed my nose and lungs with a pull of cool air and the taste of fragrant grass.

Griffon was a glorious creature. I had never expected to see a seraph with my own eyes. Their kind was only mentioned in ancient texts, and I assumed they were the stuff of aging men’s dreams—the type of aging men who sought to make our history more interesting than it truly was. The kind of men who provided fodder for religions and tales to frighten children.

The image of a winged Tearloch came to mind for no reason at all. If I imagined him shirtless, it wasn't much more of a stretch to add a pair of wings behind his wide shoulders...

Now that I was alone, I spoke again to Demius, for my own comfort. "I found it, Demius. The blue dragon. And still, we have no idea how we will die. But I will find out. Moire is real. And if she’s real, the prophecy must be real...”

I imagined him there, standing beside me while I searched the stars and imagined what he would say in return.

Assume nothing, child… Learn for yourself…

“Who are you speaking to?” Tearloch glanced around, then lowered himself to sit beside me, with his back against a wall of rock. He held a large chunk of meat in each hand and offered me one of them. The dragon had burned half of the bird, so they’d slowly roasted the other half over the fire. With so many hungry men about, I hadn’t expected any portion for myself.

“Demius.” I shrugged. “It helps me feel as if he’s still with me.” I took a bite of the meat and was surprised by the delicate flavor.

"Your books omitted the fact that moon stalkers were delicious?"

"Never mentioned it."

"Must not have been a large library then. A dozen books?"

"Oh, no. A thousand at least—" I bit my tongue when I realized he'd been fishing for information. My disappointment was a sudden pang in my stomach. "You might have asked."

He reached over to lift my chin. "That was unworthy of me. Forgive me."

"Go ahead," I said, as he slowly pulled his hand away. "Ask what you really want to know."

"I want to know what your books said about the blue dragon. If they were as old as your master, they should have had some answers.”

"You want to know if we have any hope."

"Yes."

"So do I. That's why I'm going to find her ...and ask her."

"Then I'll make sure you get the chance."

"Truly?" I found it hard to breathe with him sitting so near. The winged image of him kept trying to superimpose itself over reality . "Don’t you need to start looking for Huxor?”

He took a bite of meat and considered. "Huxor can wait. If we can avert the prophecy, I’ll have more time to find him.”

"You didn't feel that way last night."

"Last night, there was little hope of anything.” His gaze locked with mine. “And then we fell from the sky on a dying dragon...and lived to tell the tale."

"Yes. And isn’t it interesting. We found the blue dragon, and we still breathe."

"Exactly. Traveling with you has taught me that anything can happen.”

I shouldn’t have been so pleased to have him include me. It was hardly a compliment.

He seemed unaware that he was staring at my lips. But then he blinked a few times and found my eyes again. "I wonder if perhaps I'm becoming addicted to you."

"Addicted to me?"

"Addicted to your surprises. First, you tried to kill me. A mere boy. An apprentice. Then a woman who saved my friend from those tiny demons, with the sand from her pockets. Next, you use your considerable learning to win over a woman in the hallucinogens trade and buy your way into princess robes, complete with a devoted retinue.”

He took a deep breath then. I think he wasn’t used to giving such long speeches.

He continued. “You revived a dying dragon long enough to get us to the ground. You hold maps in your head, you refuse to take the easiest route to the city and happen to find the most elusive dragon to ever fly, and you knew what Minkin needed to stave off a fever. I cannot imagine what you will do next. But I plan to be here when you do it.”

As he spoke the last, he leaned forward by degrees until our faces were achingly close. And still, he held my gaze. Then suddenly, his eyes widened. He pulled away and whispered, "Do you hear that?” He tilted his head to search the dark. “Dragon wings.”

I hadn’t been listening to anything but him.

He urged me to my feet. “Go back to the cave. Warn them to keep quiet. The Guardians are close.”

I brushed my hands together, and waited a heartbeat, hoping he might say something more. But he didn’t.

Morrow stood just inside the entrance at the back of the cave, his attention on some sort of scuffle.

I joined him and waited for my eyes to adjust. "What is it," I asked, trying to put a name to all the forms scuffling around the cavern. Morrow grabbed my arm, and when I realized it wasn't the captain of my guards, I screamed in surprise.

Flashes of deadly bronze wings, focused spurts of fire, and mens' ear-splitting screams filled the cavern. But when sword blades were held to the throats of both Lennon and Minkin, everything else stopped.

Though Morrow was nowhere to be found, his two men, along with Bain and Dower, were quickly subdued and had their hands tied behind their backs by soldiers with gold embellishments on their black uniforms. My friends were forced to sit in a tight group off to the right of the fire. The dragon remained at the rear of the space, undaunted by the half-dozen spears wielded by as many soldiers who thought they had her at their mercy.

Kivi was only concerned for Lennon and watched the man who dared threaten her with narrowed eyes.

Sweetie’s murderous expression was much the same as he glowered at the man threatening Minkin while three men tenuously restrained his arms. Two other men had hold of ropes they had caught around his horns, which they obviously regretted. They looked terrified at what might happen next. I was surprised fire didn't threaten to blow out the big man’s nostrils as well. And I wondered just how many of them would end up with a hole in them about the diameter of a bull’s horn.

Griffon was a different story. He stood with his back to the wall, his arms crossed over his shirtless chest, his wings relaxed as he ignored the spears aimed at his throat, chest, and crotch. He seemed amused by the entire tableau as if he knew something the others did not.

The man I'd mistaken for Morrow invited me to join the other women. My garb earned me a bit more dignity, despite the rip in my gown, and no one bothered to threaten me with a blade.

When one soldier dared to lead me by the arm, one of Morrow's men shouted, "Remove your hands from the princess!" Reminded of my disguise, I lifted my chin a little higher and tried to do a better job of playing the part.

The soldier smirked and clicked his tongue. "Princesses shouldn't harbor fugitives." But he did release me.

I feigned innocence. "Fugitives? What fugitives?"

The commander answered. "The dragon and its riders."

I waved a hand in Nogel's direction. "I hired this man in Sunbasin. Our dragon died halfway to Ristat, along with one of my men. You can find the bodies?—"

"This dragon, my lady. This is the fugitive. Now, you will tell me who rides it."

"No one rides it, sir. We found it here when my maid servant was injured by a moon stalker, and we sought shelter so we could nurse her wounds. Since the beast has done nothing to harm us, we gave it the same courtesy. But it was alone. Besides, it is not a blue dragon, as you can see. It is a green and blue DeNoy dragon, which isn't at all what Moire described in the prophecy.

“And speaking of the prophetess, why don’t you present this dragon to her as a gift? You must have heard how she covets the DeNoy for their pretty beasts. And since this one seems to have lost its rider, she can have her own…her own living, breathing dragon…a beast she can ride to the stars and back.”

The commander wasn’t buying it. “And if the king prefers all blue dragons dead?”

“Then gift it to him. Let him be the one to kill it. King Aristaeus, Dragonslayer.” I let the sound of it sink in. “Personally, I know he’d be pleased...”

The man nodded. “I shall consider it.” He snapped his fingers and a soldier came forward. “Summon a skylith to find the nearest Guardian. The more dragons the better.”

All around the cavern, the tension eased and weapons lowered, albeit slightly. I gestured to the men holding the ropes around Sweetie’s horns and made an impatient noise. “He’s a man, you fools. Remove your ropes and perhaps he will forget your insults.”

The commander ordered that the women to be left alone. The man who’d held a blade to Lennon’s throat moved to his leader's side and spoke quietly. "Too many to take back with us. If we execute the men?—"

"You're welcome to try," Griffon said, smirking as he slowly unfolded his arms.

To avoid more fighting, I continued my bluster. "I require two dragons for myself and my party. We have been walking since last night, so we will rest while we wait for them. I want my men released this instant. They have done nothing wrong."

The leader wasn’t happy to do it, but he waved a hand toward the men on the floor. "Their ties will be severed, but they will remain where they are for the moment." Then he nodded toward Griffon. "And what about this beast?"

I lifted an imperious brow. "Careful, sir. My protector—assigned by the king, by the way—will do as he pleases. But I suggest you treat him with civility. Those wings can sever a head faster than the eye can follow. Though, considering that a truly blue dragon has been sighted, you may consider that a blessing.”

If a fight broke out again, I worried all our advantages were outweighed by our enemy’s numbers, which were at least double ours. And in such proximity, the chance of my friends being injured or killed was too great to risk. The best option was for me to keep blustering all the way to Ristat—or at least long enough for Tearloch and Morrow--wherever they were--to find a way to save us.