Chapter 36 #3
I glance around but spy no sign of Valtar.
With a sigh, I set out from under the dripping trees onto the soggy field.
My shoes are soaked through and the hem of my gown and torn petticoats are six inches deep in mud by the time I reach the dragon boy where he lies.
He’s taken human form once more, curled up in a sad bundle of scrawny limbs.
I reach out tentatively via our mental connection and sense that he is still sleeping, that same dreamless sleep which held him in its grip while he burned.
His mind shivers in reaction to my appearance, and I hastily back out again. No reason to disturb him.
Removing Valtar’s cloak, I drape it over his little body, then take a seat on a fold to keep my bum from getting soaked through.
Thus I wait…I’m not sure for what. Wait beside this brother of mine.
It’s funny—I never once imagined I might actually have brothers or sisters.
And it turns out, I’ve got hundreds, maybe thousands!
Mhoryga has been hatching dragon spawn for centuries now, hasn’t she?
How many of them are like this boy? Enslaved and terrified of their own monstrous selves?
How many of them have been deprived of agency, forced to serve out the will of our dreadful mother?
Unable to escape, unable to spare the world from the destruction they are forced to wreak upon it.
And who is to stop them? Me?
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper, clenching my fists so tight, my elongated nails dig into my palms. “I didn’t ask to be made, to be born into this world, for this purpose.”
The gods choose who is worthy.
Alderin’s voice echoes in my head, stern and solemn. I wish I could shrug it off, forget everything he ever told me. If I could simply go back to being the girl I was a few short weeks ago, I would in a heartbeat. Because I’m not worthy. I never claimed to be worthy, never aspired to worthiness.
I bury my face in my hands, fingers pulling at the roots of my hair. Still that voice will not leave, and soon another voice joins in, gentler, softer, but no less urgent: You will not abandon us?
“Oh, Philippa,” I sigh. “What difference will it make if I abandon you or not? It will all come out the same in the end.”
But if I don’t try…how will I ever know?
Valtar appears suddenly. He steps from the forest, like an apparition, there at the far edge of the field, all black and gloomy, even in the sunlight.
He’s got a brace of rabbits in one hand, and at the sight of them, my stomach growls with sudden hunger.
I bite my lips uncertainly. Then, with a last glance at the sleeping dragon boy wrapped in the cloak, I rise and make my way across the soggy turf.
“How difficult is it to assassinate rabbits?” I call in greeting.
Valtar shrugs. “Rather less difficult than some. More difficult than others.” He’s already skinned and gutted them, and now sets to work with great efficiency building a fire.
I appreciate that he goes through the trouble of using flint to strike a spark rather than simply cooking the meat over hellfire flames.
Though at this point, I’m hungry enough not to care.
Would it damn my soul to eat hell-roasted rabbit?
I find a mostly dry spot and take a seat across the makeshift firepit, watching Valtar as he works. “And how did you find trying to assassinate me? More or less challenging than a rabbit?”
He pauses in the middle of feeding tinder to the small flame. His gaze flicks to meet mine for a moment then focuses once more on his task. A faint hint of color tinges his cheeks, but his voice is as cold as ever when he answers, “You have proven somewhat…problematic.”
I let the topic go. Soon enough, he’s got the first rabbit on a spit, and the smell of slowly roasting meat tickles my nostrils. It’s all I can do not to grab it and tear into the still-raw flesh. Maybe it’s my dragon nature trying to take over.
“Tell me, Valtar,” I say, more to distract myself than anything, “how true was that story you told me? About your brother, I mean. The one being held captive.”
“All of it,” he replies. This time, his gaze does not leave the dancing flames. “My brother, Arun, is imprisoned in Mhoryga’s dungeons. She will kill him if I do not rip your heart from your chest and bring it to her as a prize.”
As though in response, my heart lurches against my breastbone. I place a hand against it, trying to calm the painful throb. “Will you…” My voice shakes a little. “Will you at least wait until I’ve eaten before you do any heart ripping?”
He looks at me.
“It’s just…I am awfully hungry.”
His throat constricts. Then: “I will not be ripping out your heart, Rosie.”
I bite my lip. “And Arun?”
“What about him?”
“What will happen to him?”
“I told you. He will die.”
“But what if…” I stop. My arms wrapped around my knees tighten, my fingers clenching in the folds of my skirts. “What if we rescue him first?”
Valtar blinks. I think I’ve actually surprised him. He opens his mouth, but no answer comes.
“I mean, I know it’s impossible,” I hasten to add.
“But then, everything about this whole situation is impossible, right? If we’re going to go about doing impossible things like turning me into some kind of weapon capable of taking on Mhoryga for the fate of the world…
well, couldn’t we throw in a little brother-rescuing along the way? ”
“It would be”—he pauses, searching for the right word—“a challenge.”
“So was escaping Stromin Palace. We pulled that off rather capably, I thought.”
One of his brows slides up his forehead. “Alderin allowed most of that to happen. The only thing he did not count on was my arrival on the scene.”
“Yes, of course, I’m aware of that,” I answer sulkily, letting my knees drop into a crisscross position and straightening my back. “But still, we could use what we have to our advantage. If we invent some harebrained scheme for rescuing your brother—Arun, did you say his name was?”
“Yes.”
“If we invent some harebrained scheme for rescuing Arun, Mhoryga won’t see it coming. And with a bit of luck and a dash of divine destiny on our side, then…maybe…”
My voice trails off. Part of me hopes Valtar will fill in the blanks I’ve left, inventing some brilliant plan on the spot as behooves a lethal assassin. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t answer at all.
“Fine,” I say at last, leaning back on my hands. “I don’t expect you to go along with any of this. In fact, I rather still expect you to kill me.”
“That is wise.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“You already asked me this.”
“Yes, well. I’m asking again.”
“The answer is still no.”
“But that could be a lie. A trick to lull me into a false sense of security.”
“Yes.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
“But that could be a lie as well.”
Valtar uses a long stick to stir the burning embers.
Smoke and sparks rise, singeing the tender rabbit flesh.
“The day is already growing late,” he says at last in that low rumble of his.
“We could sit here for what remains of it going round in circles. Or we could agree on the distinct possibility that I am lying and move on.”
I breathe out another sigh and simply watch the fire. Then, with a sudden vicious smile: “I used that trick you taught me. The knife flick. On Prince Taigan.”
He looks up, brows raised.
“I cut his tendons. Oh, and then I went for the triceps, just like you showed me.”
“What?”
Once more, I’ve managed to surprise him. My grin grows. “I might have a knack for this vicious knife work. And, well, it was oddly satisfying, seeing Taigan on the ground, groaning like that.” I clap a hand to my mouth, horrified at my own admission. “Gods, what does that say about me?”
Valtar doesn’t have an answer for that one.
Rather than speak, he uses his knife to test the rabbits.
They apparently aren’t ready for consumption, so he settles back once more, not quite looking at me.
The snap and crackle of the fire fills the silence between us, punctuated now and then by the trill of birds in the not-too-distant forest and wind sighing through the grass.
“How close are the nearest dracori?” I ask after a time.
“They will be in this very spot within twenty-four hours.”
I swallow painfully. “Is this your meeting place then?”
“No. I was supposed to meet them at Hagmar Falls.” He points south, toward some destination I do not know and cannot imagine.
“It is a three-day trek from here on foot. But Nyxia and her dracori will be riding dragon spawn. When she is near enough, she will read my mind and that of the boy and be drawn to our exact position. It won’t be long. ”
That name again. I see once more the image of the woman whose specter haunts Rhyo’s mind. “Who is she?” I ask, uncertain I want to hear the answer. “This Nyxia. She is Mhoryga’s daughter too?”
“And right hand.”
“I thought…that is, I was told Mhoryga never let her daughters live to adulthood. Not after Heliar.”
“Ordinarily she does not. As soon as they come of age, she devours their hearts and feeds their blood to the Dracor Flame. It is all part of a great ritual to sustain her life and being in this world. But Nyxia…” Valtar pauses, his jaw working as though he’s struggling to find the right words.
“Nyxia is different. She failed to manifest in dragon form, failed to conjure hellfire. Thus, she is no threat to the Dragon Queen’s rule.
But she can enter and manipulate the minds of dracori and dragon spawn alike, making her useful to Mhoryga. ”
I consider his words, mulling them over while he turns the spit.
Another dragon princess. A potential dragon queen.
And here I thought I was the only one! What must it be like to serve such a mother, knowing all the while what Mhoryga has done to her other daughters?
What she will likely do to Nyxia as well in the end.
But perhaps Nyxia has no choice in the matter.
Perhaps, like the dragon spawn, she is under Mhoryga’s thrall.
Or perhaps she has ambitions of her own.
“You should leave the boy.”
“What?” It’s my turn for surprise. I lift my head swiftly, catching Valtar’s hard gaze over the flames. “What did you say?”
“The boy. The dragon spawn. He will draw Nyxia to him, whether he wishes to or not. You would be wise to leave him.”
I shake my head. “I’m not abandoning him. You weren’t there. You didn’t see how his brothers died. How my brothers died.” I glare down at my own hands, clenched in my lap. “I can’t just…walk away from him.”
Valtar nods, as though he knew that was what I’d say. And he doesn’t argue, I’ll give him that credit. Though part of me wishes he would.
“We’ll just have to stay a few steps ahead of Nyxia,” I continue more firmly than I feel.
I can tell from Valtar’s expression that will be easier said than done.
Another long silence. Then, because I know I must, I ask the question that has been weighing on me for hours now. “Are you…are you coming with me?”
“It would be better if I didn’t. I am dracori. Nyxia will be drawn to me as well.”
“But if I’m keeping Rhyo then I might as well keep you too. Right?” A nervous little laugh whispers from my lips. “It won’t make any difference in the end, and…well, I rather think I’d like to have the company where I’m going.”
“And where are you going exactly?”
I look away again, out across the field to where the boy still sleeps beneath the folds of Valtar’s cloak.
An idea has been growing in my mind. I’m not certain exactly when it began, and I’m even less certain it’s an idea worth pursuing.
But until something else crops up, I suppose it’ll have to do. “You’re not going to like it,” I say.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Do you really want to know?”
He considers. Then: “Tell me tomorrow. Not today.”
Not the answer I was expecting, but I nod, accepting it. “I suppose if you’re planning to kill me in my sleep tonight, it won’t really matter, will it?”
He doesn’t deign to answer but instead removes the rabbit from the spit and begins to carve its flesh.
I insist we put aside a portion for the dragon boy, but otherwise, the two of us polish off our meal in short order.
Finally, my belly full, I lie down on my side, tucking my knees up and resting my head on my arm.
I’m so tired! So bone weary…but also, oddly comfortable.
Out from under the weight of the mountain, beneath this open, storm-freshened sky, I feel as though I can breathe again for the first time in ages.
I let my gaze travel to Valtar. He leans back on one elbow, lounging like a panther over the remains of his prey.
It was nice of him to let me eat before assassinating me.
I wonder, would he kiss me again before killing me as well?
If I asked him? Because now that I’m no longer ravenous or wet or cold or immediately in danger of being burned alive…
I find myself focusing once more on those full lips of his.
I know for a fact just how kissable they are, how they feel pressed against my mouth, my neck, my shoulder, my trembling pulse.
Hastily, I squeeze my eyes shut. What is this nonsense?
He admitted to being sent here for the express purpose of murdering me, for gods’ sake!
Whatever else may have happened between us, that hasn’t changed.
And for all I know, he’s still planning to go through with it. I mustn’t trust him, I mustn’t.
But do I have to trust him to kiss him again?
Oh gods.
I roll over quickly, putting my back to the fire. “If you’re going to assassinate me,” I call over my shoulder, “will you please wait until I’m quite asleep? After the night I’ve had, I could definitely use a few winks before attempting anything difficult. Like dying.”
Valtar is silent for such a long time, I half wonder if he’s slipped away once more. But then he speaks in a soft growl: “Go to sleep, Rosie. I’ll keep watch.”
I tuck in a little tighter, burying my head in my arm. There I go again, feeling so safe in his presence. Am I really such a fool? Anyone who knew what was going on in my heart would say I absolutely deserved to be murdered in my sleep! But for the moment, I don’t care.
I let my heavy eyes close, trusting Valtar will be there when I wake. And we’ll figure out our next steps on this strange journey of ours. Together.