Page 21

I looked around. I’d lost the thread of my magic and grasped for it, searching for another weak mind. My breathing came in short gasps as dust clogged the air. The swords turned dull and bloody. The clang of steel grew vicious. Behind me, the horses kicked up dirt clods and tore away in a frenzy.

The pulse in my throat thundered while the man with the broken bone still screamed.

He’d dropped the knife to grip his leg where white bone poked through the skin.

He’d be no good in any fight from now on, but I still scrambled for the blade, air whooshing between my lips as I called Bogo’s name; he’d wedged himself in a crevice too deep to escape.

On the pathway and in the dirt, the Angel of Death lived up to his name, clashing with a man more skilled in fighting than the blundering Lorn.

Kion fought with both knife and sword, a rapid assault as he backed the man against the rocks, pinning him across the throat with his sword arm.

The man jerked, and as the body fell, Kion spun to face the next man in the queue.

I’d barely managed to swallow down the scream when someone else leapt from the high rocks. Kion bent to avoid the blade, although blood bloomed on his forehead, streaked his hair.

Bogo’s squeak grew frantic. I turned, stabbed the blade I held through the hand of a reaching man—the man who’d boasted about killing slowly.

The knife resisted bone…or was it the rock beneath? I didn’t care. This man would not get close to Bogo; rage boiled with enough strength to change me. To rouse my magic into a churning storm that cracked the rocks above the man’s head, tumbling them down on him.

The crevice trapping Bogo widened, and I scooped him up with trembling hands. Tucked him inside the vest I wore and pushed his head out of sight. “Stay,” I hissed, as if he was a dog trained to that command.

More men rushed, hidden reserves now crowding into the narrow arena. Kion worked through them until the last few paused, took in the mess of bodies, and ran away.

Then he gripped my arm, dragged me to where the horses waited, agitated and stomping. Thankfully, they hadn’t run far. But the mare was unreliable. I ended up on Kion’s horse while he rode behind me, and as the first fat raindrops cratered the dusty ground, the horse exploded into movement.

I clutched the saddle, arched away from the heat of Kion’s body.

A moment later, the mare galloped beside us, the empty saddle bouncing on her back.

Hours passed while the horses plodded toward the Faded Lands and away from Thales.

Away from my brother and toward the enemy’s realm.

The rain had returned with chilling misery, and the pine trees cloaking the Tannis Mountains offered little shelter; wet branches slapped against my legs.

Mist beaded on my eyelashes. Kion wrapped his arms around my waist, and when his shoulders slumped, I leaned against him to offer support instead of resistance.

The slope steepened, forcing the horse to put more effort into the climb. Mud slickened the path, and the twisting roots tripped the mare as she followed along.

Kion had a destination in mind, although he remained silent, directing the horse with pressure from his legs and a tug on the reins. The mage shackles were in the saddlebags; it was wiser not to mention them.

Bogo was curled beneath the vest and against my stomach, snoring softly. I tipped my head, staring at the leaden sky while the reality flowed through me. A dragon was snoring in my lap. When I hadn’t believed in dragons, never imagined Bogo was anything other than a deformed bat.

I still struggled to believe. Life would be easier if everything Kion Abaddon said was an elaborate lie. But the men who attacked had no problem with their convictions. The man I’d stabbed and then buried in the stoney avalanche wanted to kill the little vermin. Orm’s fucking spawn.

“You did what you had to do.” Kion’s voice was low, his breath warm against my ear. “Sarnorinth will owe you a debt.”

I repeated the name— Sarnorinth —puzzled.

“Bogo’s sire, although he won’t think much of the name you gave his son.”

“It’s the name Bogo gave me.”

“Sarnorinth believes you stole the fledgling.”

My jaw clenched. “Then he’s wrong.”

“He’s not wrong. Fledgling dragons often bond to the children who talk to them, and the moment your father realized you talked to Bogo, he knew what had happened.

That’s why he ordered you to stop feeding him.

Why he moved so often, hoping the fledgling would fly home without attracting the king’s attention or exposing your true magic.

The magic from your mother, not the pathetic version used by Silk. ”

I shifted my weight. “You’re assuming my father knew about dragons.”

“He knew. Your mother certainly knew. She would have told him about the risk.”

“You’ve lied to me before,” I said bitterly. “I’ve no reason to believe you now.”

Silence, as if he agreed and didn’t need to answer. The rain stopped, and horse tramped along, picking his way through an area devoid of trees. I wondered if a flash flood had scoured the ground. Then I shuddered.

When the horse halted, the mare did the same, standing with her head hanging low. Kion slid from the saddle, dragging me down beside him.

“Over here. Your elephant bones.”

He’d crouched beside something half buried in the mud, exposed to the elements like an abandoned dream. White bones. An entire skeleton. The size of a horse.

But nothing like a horse. Or an elephant.

I wrapped my arms against the vest where Bogo snored, needing to hold him while I stared at what the mud revealed.

A triangular head, long and thin. Knobby bones, forming an arching neck and spine. There…curving ribs…and four legs. Two wings with delicate bones in a fanning pattern. The tail, along with all the broken parts, suggesting inju ries.

“Her name was Tova,” Kion said. “During the last Malice Moon, she slipped through the Wall, looking for you, Senaria. But she was young, and men killed her before she ever got out of these mountains. They buried her. Forgot about her. For seven years, I have searched, hoping that I’d find Tova alive.

Hiding somewhere. Then the rains washed away the dirt. Exposing the truth.”

Denial raced through me. “I didn’t cause this.”

“Twenty-one years ago, during the Malice Moon, you were crying in a garden, and Bogo found you. Seven years ago, also during a Malice Moon, you were crying in the king’s dungeon, and Tova tried to find you.”

“I was beaten unconscious. I don’t remember what sounds I was making.”

“Bogo was a fledgling, a few months old.” Kion’s voice tightened.

“Tova was five, a toddler in human terms. Both of them heard you and flew through the magic to find what they didn’t understand—and that is a risk.

You can talk to dragons even though you do not realize it.

And they respond to you. I’m sure Tarian knows what happened here.

He knows about Bogo. The priests know. They’ve likely known for years that your mother came from the Faded Lands and hated you for it. ”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because year after year, Ardalez sent your father into the desert to research beyond the Black City. Areas along the Wall.”

“Researching was my father’s job, his passion,” I argued. “Where he went proves nothing. ”

“But where he was when he found your mother meant something.” Kion spoke like the Draakon, not the man, his tone chilling more than a wintry wind.

“It wasn’t hard for your king, Senaria. He sent your father searching for more holes in the Wall, while spies watched the family he left behind.

They would have noticed Bogo no matter where your father moved.

And after your parents died, Ardalez found an excuse to arrest you, then offer a pardon.

In your gratitude, you agreed to do what he asked while he waited for the Malice Moon. ”

Resistance shuddered. “Why wait if he hates me?”

“He hates you, not what you can do.” No softness in Kion’s voice or his expression. “The Wall thins during the Malice Moon. Enough for men and small dragons to break through.”

“Small dragons shouldn’t be a threat.”

“Dragons grow into weapons. They are power, and if he can use you to control them, he’ll control us. That’s one threat I can’t allow.”

“I didn’t do this,” I hissed.

“How does Bogo find you every time you need him? Why did Tova fly through the Wall at the same moment Tarian tortured you in a prison cell? Every time you cry, the dragons hear you. The youngest come to you without knowing why.”

All I could see was Tova, lying there as she’d been...the forlorn curve of the front legs with her head tucked. Had she tried to hug herself at the end?

My throat cramped. She was so similar to Bogo, down to the little spike on the tail—how had I ever assumed he was a bat ?

“So…that’s why you’re here? To show me this?”

“I am sworn to protect dragons,” the Draakon said. “This is my responsibility. My penance. My duty is to keep you from the king’s ambition. To eliminate the weapon you could become. The debt is etched into the medallion I wear.”

Cursed by Orm. Cursed by failure. Cursed you will surely die.

Something sharp and deep inside tried to slice me open. “This is what you meant? Why I’m your…curse?”

“I have been cursed for more crimes than yours. You are one of the rarest people in this realm. You can talk to more than a single dragon and that magic is dangerous, Senaria. You can destroy the innocent. Violate a dragon’s bond.”

“Making me a threat you can’t allow.” I remembered the men in the rocks, and added bitterly, “Who is more monster than man?”

“I am what the dragons made me,” the almost king said without emotion. “But can you go back to Thales and kneel in front of your king? Lie about what you can do? Refuse to allow him to use you? Can you deny him the chance to ravage my realm during this Malice Moon?”

“He…”

“Knows what you are, Senaria. The color of your hair is common in the Faded Lands, but rare in Thales. He forced you to wear a veil to hide the truth and used your brother to hold you prisoner instead of iron bars. If given the chance, he’ll torture Nikias in front of you to force your cooperation. He won’t need your agreement.”

“As you would force me into the Faded Lands?” I stood so rigidly that my bones ached. “What bars will you use for your cage, Kion Abaddon? How will you rid yourself of the threat I’ve become? When your methods do not differ from Thales.”

“I would not use you to destroy.”

“But you have passed judgment by bringing me here to see…this.” It hurt to look at Tova. “How can you stand there and expect me to choose between the evil of Thales and that of the Faded Lands?”

“I would expect you to choose that fledgling curled up against your heart.”

“My life for his?”

“He gave up his for you.”

My body jerked. “And what of my brother?”

“He survives.”

I couldn’t catch my breath. “I am the enemy now?”

“I have sworn to protect the dragons and do what must be done. That means taking you into the Faded Lands where the dragons will decide.”

“Decide…what?"

“Your fate. However that plays out.”

Kion bent down and placed his palm against the bones. White light sizzled from one end of the skeleton to the other, blinding until all that remained of Tova condensed into a single glowing orb, a teardrop filled with starlight that the man named for an Angel of Death cupped in his palm.

He murmured words I did not understand.

The orb shot upward into the sky, higher and higher, until it disappeared.

“What are you?” I whispered.

“The Draakon,” he answered. “More monster than man.”