Page 29 of Lady Dragon

KIREK

The oasis lay tucked between dunes, where Kirek remembered it, and thank the skies they reached it just before dawn crested on the craggy, mountainous horizon, the sun rising like the internal fire behind a dragon’s teeth.

They’d already been flying northeast over increasingly arid land for some time, until the scattered brush finally gave way to endless sand spreading like a pale, wave-rippled sea beneath the night sky.

Invisible beyond the horizon to the south stretched the wide, grassy plains where dragons hunted from scattered, sprawling herds of wild game.

Here, the ground looked uninhabited—if the skies were not.

Dragons didn’t dwell where they hunted, so as not to frighten the herds away.

It was beautiful here in the desert, although it left them ever more exposed.

Even flying low, Kirek was able to appreciate the view from the back of a dragon for the first time, with different eyes.

She didn’t know what Samansa thought of it, and for some strange reason, no doubt to do with Kirek’s own confusing, conflicting human emotions, she didn’t want to ask.

Perhaps Samansa would despise the dry, near-dead landscape that took Kirek’s breath away, that made her miss home with an ache in her chest fiercer than what the broken Heartstone gave her.

And yet, at the same time, Kirek dreaded returning to High Nest, because she had no idea what she might find there. What sort of welcome, if any. Any hesitation in Samansa about where they were headed would not only compound the pain of homesickness, but also weaken Kirek’s resolve in return.

But where else could they go? Yes, the Queen Mother had wanted Kirek to kill the princess and was usually unforgiving if her demands weren’t met, but there was no possible way she could expect Kirek to carry out such an order after bonding with her.

Her mother would have to understand. Pair-bonding was fundamental to the dragon way of life, even if it had happened with a human, this time.

The situation was unheard of, but still relatable. Kirek had to remain steady in her plan.

For now, they would rest. Samansa’s arm—now a wing once more—had healed, and she’d slept some while on Kirek’s back, even if her nap had nearly ended disastrously.

Despite being exhausted, Kirek didn’t dare close her eyes for fear of transforming midflight.

She hadn’t slept since the day before, after Samansa had transformed in her tower and they’d taken refuge in the woods, and had spent a full night awake since, much of that time either bound and assaulted by dragonsbane or flying with extra weight on her back, just as Samansa was now.

The princess carried not only Kirek but the saddle clutched in her claws. And yet the great red dragon seemed tireless. In dragon form, Samansa was bigger, stronger than Kirek, and fueled by something powerful that the dragon girl couldn’t quite name.

Determination? Desperation? Despair ?

Whatever it was, sooner or later it would burn out—or burn Samansa out. The princess—dragon princess?—needed to rest as well, even if she didn’t act like it.

“Here,” Kirek said, directing them toward the thick ring of palm trees towering around the blue jewel of a spring nestled within.

Samansa tucked her wings and ducked neatly through the bristling leaves and trunks. She was getting much better at flying. More natural. But Kirek wasn’t sure the princess would want to hear that, just as Kirek herself had rejected any sense of ease she had felt in human form.

Perhaps it wasn’t to either of their benefits to feel natural in their strange, new shapes. It felt too much like settling. Like giving in to the curse.

Samansa’s claws dug up deep furrows of sand as she landed near the crystalline blue spring.

The water shimmered orange in the rising sun.

Kirek slid from the dragon’s back as Samansa tossed the saddle aside with her claws and, without further ado, ducked her snout in the spring and drank deeply.

Good thing the water was safe, Kirek knew.

Some of the pools in draconic realm, those closest to the chain of volcanoes, were not only too scorchingly hot to drink but toxic from the poisonous seeping of the earth.

Kirek stumbled forward on tired legs and fell to her knees before the spring, first splashing water over her cheeks and then drinking from her own cupped hands.

Part of her wanted to simply throw her face in like Samansa, but she didn’t think that would look terribly dignified, and besides, she would probably get water up her small, flat human nose.

Suddenly, spray hit her directly on the side of the head, saturating her hair and trickling down her neck. She spun in shock, and saw the great red dragon with her jaws still dripping. Samansa had spat a mouthful of the spring at her. Kirek sputtered, wiping the wet from her cheek.

Caught off guard, for once? Samansa quipped.

In a flash, Kirek smacked the surface of the spring with the flat of her hand, sending a cut of water straight across the dragon’s eyes. She readied herself in a crouch.

“Your move—”

Kirek’s words turned into a yelp as Samansa surged forward, her scaled body curving into a serpentine dive.

Kirek barely had time to scramble away before a much larger splash, more like a small wave, soaked the sand where she’d been standing.

The dragon rolled over in the pool, both languid and graceful, glittering in the sunlight, sending plumes of water into the air and looking entirely too satisfied with herself.

Kirek couldn’t help the twitch that overcame her lips. It soothed her to see Samansa relax and seem to enjoy herself, even as a dragon. Maybe Kirek should try to do the same—even trapped in this human form.

Before she knew it, her hands were moving, unfastening her leathers and weapons, stripping them off.

She took more care than Samansa had in easing into the pool in case of rocks that might scour her fragile flesh, but once she was waist-deep, she threw herself under.

The cool water closing over her scalp felt blissful.

When she surfaced, the red dragon wasn’t moving, only staring intently at her, her golden eyes almost hungry.

Kirek remembered she was naked. Whereas she would have expected the usual Samansa to flush or turn away, this time the dragon did no such thing.

Flushing, of course, was impossible with scales, but that piercing metallic stare that seemed to want to strip the meat from Kirek’s bones was all too draconic.

Instinctively, Kirek’s knees dipped, and she ducked until the water came over her shoulders.

Only then did Samansa blink and look away.

The dragon’s regard didn’t embarrass Kirek; it only made her wary because of how un-Samansa-like it was.

If the princess was feeling less like herself and more like a dragon, then she might truly be hungry.

She’d only eaten some apples as a human, and nothing as a dragon. Kirek had eaten a cow.

I didn’t mean to…, Samansa began, but didn’t finish.

Which didn’t answer any of Kirek’s lingering questions. But she wasn’t about to ask them.

“No matter,” Kirek said, swimming farther into the spring.

Not toward the dragon, exactly, but not away.

One should never show fear in front of a dragon.

Not even a dragon that was a human princess.

And wariness didn’t hamper her desire to be close to Samansa—to protect her, even down to the princess’s feelings.

So she took her time scrubbing the dirt, soot, and blood from her skin and hair, the picture of unconcern, even carefully splashing the still-tender ridge of flesh around the broken Heartstone to ensure the healing wound was clean.

Once more, in the sunlit dawn, she noticed how much darker of a midnight blue the jewel was from its previous rich purple.

Not to mention how much smaller and more irregularly shaped.

She couldn’t see where the other half of the stone lay within Samansa’s now-armored breast, but she’d caught glimpses when the princess was in human form: a red shard, making it look even more like a deep wound in the princess’s chest than it actually was.

Kirek couldn’t help but wonder if the change in color had something to do with the curse as she watched water glitter over the dragon’s red scales. But what might it mean?

Samansa slunk out of the pool, no longer exuding any languid pleasure but something more sheepish, shaking off water before taking cover under some trees well away from the spring, dragging the saddle and straps with her.

Even though it was a good idea—hiding herself and avoiding where others might stop for a drink—the sight of her retreat tugged on Kirek.

She finished up her own washing, gathered up her things, and followed the red dragon into the shade, dripping over the sand as she went.

This time, Samansa watched her approach uneasily rather than hungrily, as if Kirek were the unknown entity.

Just as in the pool, instead of avoiding proximity, Kirek tugged on her leathers with effort over her wet skin, refastened her weapons, and strode right to her.

She flopped down in the crook of a massive elbow and leaned back against the dragon as if she had not a care in the world.

She held up the floral silk kerchief—Samansa’s mark of favor—flapping it for the red dragon to see, instead of folding it back where she usually kept it, tucked underneath her leathers over her heart.

“To tie around your neck when next we transform, such that it hides the shard of Heartstone. We don’t want anyone seeing it.” Not until Kirek could figure out how to explain it, if she ever could. “Now you can grant yourself your own mark of favor.”

The red dragon only snorted softly while Kirek tucked the kerchief into the saddlebag and dug out a strip of dried meat, making a face as she bit into it. Fresh cow was far better; this was as good as leather. At least the spring let them preserve their water.

“Since it’s probably not wise to dry off in the sun while we’re trying to hide, do you mind helping me?” Kirek made her voice light even as she felt something weighted in her chest, squeezing it. “Since this inferior vessel doesn’t have its own internal fire.”

Samansa huffed at that, a sound that turned into a deep hum in her chest as warmth began to kick off of her.

Kirek wasn’t cold but never minded heat, and she wanted the excuse to prove that she wasn’t afraid of Samansa.

And maybe she herself wanted the contact for reasons she didn’t examine too closely.

She didn’t mean to, precisely, but found herself nestling in closer as she finished her meat-leather, resting her cheek against the warm scales, and it wasn’t because of her damp hair.

Samansa shifted her head and tail to wrap protectively around her, and the two of them drifted off into a warm, bright sleep.

Kirek startled awake in the dying light to feel a shift within her.

Samansa was already back in human form, sprawled in a fading ray of sun, her red hair aflame, her yellow dress spun from gold.

Her pale skin looked luminous, wrapping over her soft curves that rose and fell with her sleeping breath, the shard of Heartstone winking at her breast like a bright wound, now healed.

Kirek’s first instinct to waking with her so close wasn’t to leap away to keep from hurting her; it was to reach for her.

Even as the shift within her grew stronger and she began to sink into the sand with her weight, she saw her yet human-shaped hand stretching toward the princess .

Samansa’s eyes popped open at that moment, and Kirek found her own longing reflected back at her in that swimming amber gaze.

“Kirek,” the princess gasped, and her own hand lifted.

Their fingers almost touched, just before claws burst forth from the tips of Kirek’s.

With a startled cry that became a screech, Kirek lurched away, only narrowly avoiding crushing Samansa with a suddenly massive limb. The force of her flapping wings buffeted the princess and threw her back against the ground. Those amber eyes were only wide and filled with fear now.

For a moment, they stared at each other, dragon and girl. Both of them were panting, but Kirek’s breath tossed Samansa’s red curls around her freckled face.

“Kirek…,” the princess said again, sounding unbearably sad this time.

Kirek felt like there was something caving in within her own massive chest. It was her own weakness—these feelings she had for this human girl—that were hollowing her out, making her crumble.

She had to stop this. She had to fix it—the Heartstone. Herself.

Abruptly, she spun away from Samansa, her claws digging into the sand, her tail whipping.

Eat and drink quickly, hide the Heartstone with your kerchief, and then help me with the saddle. I don’t know how long I’ll be in this form, and this is how I need to be when I greet the Queen Mother. We must end this, one way or another.

Kirek didn’t hear anything behind her, and when she turned, Samansa looked small and lost. The dragon hardened her heart against the sight, even though she wanted to bend toward the princess like a sapling toward water.

This could not continue.

Kirek forced strength into her silent voice. Let’s go meet my mother.