Page 7 of I Dream of Dragons

“Indeed.” The telchin strokes his long, gray beard. “And since the king was busy, shall I make you bleed instead?”

Jai throws his head back and laughs, his black hair a silken ripple, his shadows coalescing into his black armor, the hilts of his two swords forming over his shoulders—then fading away again.

His laughter stops abruptly, his head coming up. His dark eyes glimmer. “Keep your hands and blades to yourself.”

So why did he laugh? There’s nothing funny about all this. Nothing at all.

Make him bleed? Is he threatening Jai?Bleedinstead of what? What does the king have to do with exorcising Phaethon, and how does he do it?

“Nobody can chase me out of this body,” Jai growls, his eyes glowing dark. “Not even you, telchin, and you know it.”

Ah, there is my answer. Inexplicably, my chest grows tight. After what the king told me, I shouldn’t care about Jai, shouldn’t let the intimate moments we had affect me like this, and yet…

Athdara Two-souled. I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like to have Phaethon inside his head. What if he?—?

Jai jerks. It’s an unnatural, animal-like movement that raises the fine hairs on my arms and makes my scalp prickle. He jerks again, growling, eyes closing as he lifts a small, bejeweled dagger—and drags its edge over his thigh.

A hiss escapes him, and it’s impossible to see given the black hue of his pants, but it seems to me a darker patch is spreading there.

“Shall I make you bleed instead?”

Jai grunts, lashes fluttering, and yes, the pale blade of the dagger is smeared with crimson. He brings it to his mouth,tongue darting out to lick at the blood. “I don’t need the king’s fucking help. Didn’t you say I should take care of it myself?”

CHAPTER THREE

RAE

In the thundering silence that follows, the telchin just… goes still. He gives no reply. No counter-reaction. He doesn’t call forth the power that telchins are said to possess, the power to see the threads of fate and manipulate them, control outcomes.

Unless this is the thread he’s holding in his grip, this is the outcome he wants.

Telchins to control the gates and play with fate, Eosphors to open gates and affect events in all the worlds, and dragons born in the old times of dead souls, crossing those thresholds.

The spike of pain inside my head breaks my thoughts. I rub my temples. There is so much I know, so much I shouldn’t know… so much I’ve learned and forgotten and… I feel a cold touch on my back.

Turning around, though, I see nobody behind me, except… Looking up, I find the king standing on his balcony near the top of the Sea Palace, his long royal robes fluttering, his pale hair like a banner, the tall crown blinding on his head. It’s his cold gaze on me that I feel, and the mark on my hand throbs.

A tug in the other direction, and my attention shifts back to Jai. He’s watching me, too, opposing heat to the king’s chill, his dark eyes blazing.

Is that Jai or Phaethon looking out of them?

He lifts a hand to his face and wipes at the blood there, leaving a long smear on his cheek. The faint knot in his throat moves as he swallows and turns his scorching glare on the king.

And I’m still staring at him.Gods!My hands ball into fists. I should be focusing on the trial, not these two infuriating men whose morals tend to gray—Jai who works for the fae against his own kind, alternating between protective and brutal, torn between himself and Phaethon, and the king who lets his fae pillage, rape, and kill without discrimination, now determined to take them back to their home world and save them, and who is the young man I once loved.

What’s the solution?

It doesn’t take a genius. Keep as far away from both of them as you can. Focus on your goal.

Which is to survive the day.

“Rejoice,” the telchin says, turning toward us, his deep voice oddly dissonant in the strained silence, clashing with the voice inside my head. “We are in the middle of the journey. The trials follow the king’s journey into this world, from the earth into the sky and air, the second element. You are expected to battle it, work with it, conquer it, and find your way back to the palace by nightfall or perish in the process.”

Slowly, by increments, his words sink in. This is becoming real. The second trial is about to begin, and I have no idea what it will involve. Saying it has to do with air means nothing. What are those towers in the arena? How will the air element play into the game?

“Board the barge,” he commands, and the guards standing behind him turn. A plankway is lowered, connecting the barge to the terrace. “It is time to begin!”

Oh, the great joy.