Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SERAFINA
As the dragon-shifter-king led me down numerous staircases and hallways, trepidation danced a jig along my spine. Had he changed his mind and decided to get rid of me? Was he leading me to some dank dungeon?
At last, we came to a stone wall.
“Dead end.” I ran my palm over the solid span of rock. “Have you been gone so long you forgot your way?” I teased, my voice shaky with nerves.
Alaric huffed a smoky sigh, his dragonflame pulsing to life, emitting an orange glow. Stone cracked and splintered, a fissure opening in the wall. My jaw dropped, and I stared at the opening.
“It’s a secret passage,” I gasped.
“Exceptionally secret. Before we enter, you must swear an oath to me.”
“You’re kidding?”
The dark scowl on his craggy face revealed no sign of humor. “Dragons do not joke. This space is sacred to the Draconis.”
And yet he’d brought me here. Despite his aggressive behavior earlier, something inside of me softened. “Very well.”
“Place your hand on my chest and swear you will tell nobody what I’m about to reveal to you.”
“Sacred dragon oath, huh?”
“Should you speak a word about the existence of this room to anyone outside the royal family, you will burst into flames.”
“Flark. That’s one serious oath.” For a moment, I considered bailing, but curiosity won out.
Again, the fiery orange light illuminated his chest. As instructed, I set my palm against his sternum and spoke my vow.
The moment I’d finished, the dragon’s weary expression lifted. In his emerald-green eyes, a flicker of excitement gleamed. “This way.”
What could have turned the grumpy dragon into a giddy youth? I followed Alaric into yet another deep cavern. Once inside, my feet turned to stone, my jaw swinging beneath my nose.
Instead of a glistening pool of turquoise water, it was brimming with…
Treasure.
Lots, and lots of treasure.
The scent of cold metal washed through my senses like the rain floating on a breeze. Everywhere I looked, precious jewels abounded, sparkling with prisms of color. Alaric dove headlong into a mountain of coins, writhing beneath them until his massive frame vanished under the clattering tide.
“This is incredible!” I shouted, my voice echoing, the cavern, so large.
From the middle of the pile, the top of Alaric’s head surfaced. “You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I sang, turning in a circle. Realization dawned. “This is your hoard.”
“It’s been in my family for generations. You’re the first outsider to lay eyes on it for a long time. A dragon never shares the location of his riches with others.”
And he’d shown it to me. My earlier annoyance at his tantrum outside the forbidden room faded further still.
“I can’t believe you were able to keep this hidden for all this time.”
“Even if others discovered its location, the door would only open for those who possess the royal flame.”
“Is this what brought the invaders to your kingdom?” I couldn’t resist asking.
From beneath the mound of gold he’d burrowed under, I sensed the shift in the dragon’s mood.
“Choose something,” he growled, ignoring my question.
“What?”
“Choose one thing you desire to keep, and it’s yours. Consider it an apology for snapping at you earlier.”
And just like that, he was totally forgiven.
I clasped my hands beneath my chin, desire and apprehension doing battle. “I couldn’t.” After years of hawking my potions to save a couple of coins, my efforts were laughable in the face of all these riches.
“Choose,” he barked, making me jump.
“Fine,” I snapped in return. How like the dragon to turn a favor into a requirement.
Broken wagons rested against the wall, their beds overflowing with goods.
Stolen, I wagered.
One looked newer than the others. On the side was a familiar royal crest. I belted out a laugh. “Fates save me. It’s the high ruler’s conveyance. The wagon he’d loaded with all his worldly possessions as his family abandoned the village.”
Alaric chuffed a derisive sound. “That worthless thing. Thorne brought it here shortly after we arrived.”
So, it was Thorne who’d taught the greedy bastard a lesson. “Oh, that’s grand.” Laughter bubbled in my chest. “I wish I’d seen Lady Penelope’s reaction when a dragon swooped in and stole everything they owned.”
I hurried to the tailgate, flinging open a trunk brimming with jewels. I reached for a necklace—
“Stop.” Alaric’s growl cut through the cavern. “You may have anything but the riches in that wagon.”
“What?” I spun to face the dragon, letting the lid slam. “Why?”
“There is nothing of value in there. Choose something else. Something of mine.”
When I stared at him, studying his expression, he sank deeper into his pile of treasure, hiding his face.
Did he deny me the jewelry, finding it difficult to let go of his hoard, or because it was Thorne’s treasure?
Mercurial dragon.
“Very well,” I huffed. In a weathered chest, I discovered a stash of books, their pages edged in gold.
Tiny gemstones sparkled in the bindings.
I flipped through the titles, discovering several tomes of fairy tales.
Gorgeous images illustrated each story—every page a masterpiece. I’d never seen anything more exquisite.
“This.” I hugged several of the volumes to my chest. “This is what I want.”
I could hock the gems, setting me and Speck up for life while still enjoying a good story.
A single gleaming eyeball peered out at me from the pile of riches. “Books,” Alaric scoffed.
“Yes. Books.”
“Can you read?”
I stiffened, clutching my treasure tighter, reminded that I dealt with an egotistical king as well as a grumpy dragon. “That sounds like a question your brother would ask me.”
He uttered a low growl at the insult, knocking coins from his gleaming mountain. “By all means, take them.”
“Thank you, Alaric.” For the first time, I felt a connection to the beast. Here in this sacred space, I’d caught glimpses of his story. Witnessed pieces of the man behind the beast. Experienced his truth.
It was far more than Thorne had ever offered me.
For the next hour, I explored Alaric’s treasure while he basked in his gold, the two of us rubbing along in companionable comfort.
Until finally, I settled into the crook of his muscular elbow, propping my feet on his forearm.
Costly jewelry decorated my neck, head, and forearms up to my elbows.
The weight of it all threatened to crush me, yet I refused to remove my borrowed baubles.
I bet Penelope had never worn this many jewels.
Across my lap was one of the books I’d scavenged from his hoard. I read out loud to the dragon, sharing with him a bittersweet tale. In this story, the arrogant prince was turned into a frog, cursed to remain a slimy amphibian until he was saved by a princess’s kiss.
“A simple kiss, huh?” Alaric scoffed. “That’s all it took?”
“Promise not to set me on fire if I ask you a question?” I peered up at the kingly beast.
His massive chest rose and fell against me. “Ask.”
Far from reassured, I proceeded anyway, Thorne’s accusations at the bathing pool resurfacing. “Why did you really save me that night at the lake?”
So much silence stretched between us, I feared Alaric wouldn’t answer.
At length, he said, “I saved you because I felt the fates demanded I do so. Because I believed they led me to a place I hadn’t visited in centuries, drawing me to a lake on the night of the comet’s arrival.
That they meant for me to meet a woman who walked the fine line between the living and the dead.
A girl who had Hathor’s symbol branded on the back of her neck. ”
My muscles locked, ice crawling through my veins despite the warmth the dragon emitted. “Because you believe I can break your curse.” Thorne had alluded to as much at the pool, but I’d been too busy drowning to question his meaning.
“I’ve pursued more outlandish leads throughout the years.” He hitched a massive shoulder, nearly unseating me.
Was it possible he was right? Could this explain my mysterious childhood? Why strangers found me abandoned and alone? Why I’d gained my freedom from the high ruler only to end up here? With the dragon.
“Don’t move. I have an idea.” I dropped the book, scrambled up his muscled arm, and balanced with one hand against his muzzle, the other on his cheek.
“Brace yourself, beast, because I’m coming in hot.”
His thick brow furrowed, the dragon freezing in place lest he knock me off.
I puckered my lips and mashed my face into his coarse lip. “Mmm…” I smooshed my mouth against his for long seconds, really grinding it in. “Wah!” I declared, drawing back.
Brows raised, eyes rounded, heart in my throat, I stared into the dragon’s elongated pupil.
“Anything?”
“Anything, what?”
“Did it work?”
“Did what work?” he grumbled.
The fact that he remained a dragon was answer enough. “Never mind. Silly idea.” Heat flamed in my cheeks as I scrambled down, settling on his forearm. For one foolish heartbeat, I’d dared to believe it was the solution.
I hugged my knees, folding into myself, but the thought wouldn’t leave me. I, of all people, should have known better than to believe in fairy tales. There wasn’t a prince alive who was willing to come to my rescue. That was something I’d have to do myself.
Alaric’s green eye fixed on me, unblinking, unreadable.
I forced a tight smile. “I probably should have asked first; do you have any idea how to break the curse? Clues, mysterious rhymes, quests for magical trinkets, prophecies?”
“I’ve explored hundreds of possibilities,” his voice broke, the spark in his eyes dimming. “Nothing has worked. It happened shortly after my kingdom fell.”
“Did the person responsible for the attack do it?”
“I cannot say.” His green gaze shifted away from mine.
I got the sense that he wasn’t being completely truthful. Again. If he didn’t share everything he knew, breaking his curse might be impossible. While I was sympathetic to his plight, I had my own needs and those of Speck to consider as well.
In the short time we’d spent together, I’d learned the dragon was fond of oaths and bargains. It was time I struck a bargain of my own. “If I break your curse, what do I get out of the deal?”
“Anything you desire,” he said in a rush, no doubt anticipating I’d select something from the massive cavern of treasures.
“Would you give me my freedom?” I dared to ask for the one thing he couldn’t stash in his cave.
Silence fell heavy. At length, he narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps once you break my curse, you will no longer wish to leave me.”
I chewed my bottom lip while debating my response. If the man were anything like the dragon, living with him wouldn’t be easy. Not that I dared to share this with the beast.
“I can’t say for sure whether I’d stay or go,” I said, committing to nothing. “Regardless, it should be my decision.” After all, wasn’t that the very definition of freedom?
“So be it.” He nodded. “We have struck yet another bargain. Break my curse and I will set you free.”
“Great. Except there’s still the issue of your wounds. Along with my missing friend.”
“Minor—” he rasped, his words cut off by a fit of coughing that threatened to spill me onto the floor.
Heat wafted from his massive body, so hot it threatened to burn me. I abandoned his arm in favor of standing. With a professional eye, I scanned his sunken eyes and dull scales. The dragon looked like hell.
I set my hand upon his snout, then snapped it away, shaking my heated flesh. “Goodness, Alaric. You’re burning up.” I’d come to the conclusion that dragons ran hot, but this couldn’t be normal. “Let me see your wound.”
Uttering a low grumble of irritation, he raised his wing, spilling coins off the thick webbing in a shower of gold.
Once his many riches had settled, I tucked under the odd canopy.
The crimson streaks that feathered his injury were now molten.
Fiery fingers clawed a path beneath his dull scales, streaking back to his haunch.
I uttered a curse. “By the gods, this is far worse than it was earlier when I applied the poultice.”
His powerful wing trembled with the strain of holding it aloft. I tugged the clawed tip down, urging him to rest it against his flank. “You’ve spiked a fever and grown even weaker. I’m sorry to say this, but beyond the infection, I believe you’ve also been poisoned.”
“Then fix it,” he grated. “That’s what healers do, after all.”
Trepidation tripped down my spine. “Maybe in your world they do, but in mine, they create ointments for gout, creams for foot rot, and expectorants for mucus. They do not rid dragons of mystical poisons. I’ve never seen something like this.
It’s possible it’s even magic-based.” Not that I’d had much experience with such things.
What would the beast do if I couldn’t heal him and he continued to decline? Would he roast me if he decided I was useless after all? Order Thorne to toss me off the flight deck? And what of Speck? If I disappeared, would anyone even care what happened to him?
Alaric was gravely ill. All the things Yaga taught me over the years raced through my mind. None of them was up to the task of healing a poisoned dragon.
“Magical poisons need magical cures,” I muttered to myself, Alaric remaining strangely quiet.
Magic.
I shivered. What did I know about magic? Other than it would see me burned alive.
The last day I spent at Yaga’s side came to mind. The stone she’d tried to foist off on me. Her warning that I would come to regret the decision.
“Flark,” I grumbled in a low curse.
“What?” Alaric asked, tone hopeful. “You’ve thought of a cure?”
“I know what I need.”
“Anything,” he bit out. “Tell me and it is yours.”
There was no fighting this. “I’ll need a fresh supply of herbs, more liniment, and a sturdy horse so that I can see an old woman about a rock.” Along with a fork for a big slice of humble pie.