29. Lucy
Lucy
Dragons make the best neighbors and the worst guests. In his own home he is generous to a fault. In yours he is appraising the silver and deciding, with real affection, what he'd take if you ever became inconvenient.
Iwoke to the late morning light and a tray of food that hadn’t been there when I’d collapsed into bed. Someone was pacing outside my door. The floorboards gave them away with a steady rhythm. I knew who it was though. And he could wait.
I’d scrubbed the ash from my skin before falling into bed last night, too exhausted to do more than wash and collapse.
With a yawn and lazy steps, I grabbed a piece of toast and headed for the washroom to finish what I’d started.
Brushed my teeth, braided my hair back over one shoulder, and pulled on the clothes Emrys and Tavian had given me.
The dark leather trousers laced at the hip, and the extra-soft sweater.
I caught my reflection and, aside from the collar, I looked more like myself than I had in a long time.
The pacing hadn’t stopped.
I finished the toast and opened the door. Unsurprisingly, Emrys leaned against the wall. The ink on his forearms shifted as he straightened, patterns that looked almost like waves, though I’d never asked if that was intentional.
He pulled a book from his coat’s chest pocket. “If the ocean is black, how do you know there’s anything living in it?”
I’d answered his other million questions last night, told him about the water that stretched farther than you could see, the waves that could swallow ships whole, the salt that burned your eyes if you stayed under too long.
“Ships get overtaken by beasts,” I said. “We know because everything in the outside world is documented. Newspapers. Government records. And there’s fishing for sport and food.”
He saw me eyeing the book and held it out for me to take.
Thumbing through the pages, it was clear the half attached binding was old.
But unlike the grimoire, this one was clearly from the outside world.
The illustrations were too detailed. The descriptions too specific.
Places I recognized from my own memories.
“How did you… Where did you find this?”
“I’ll show you.” His grin was quick. “If you let me take you to Maren’s for honey cakes.”
He thought he was being clever, bargaining information for my time so he could pepper me with questions about a world he would likely never see. And as I studied him, I understood why.
He was a dreamer.
People here accepted the city exactly as it was. They lived within its walls, followed its customs, and never once wondered what lay beyond them. But Emrys seemed to be looking toward things he couldn’t reach.
He was exactly what I wished I could have been outside of my childhood prison.
I could easily appease him, and if spending an afternoon answering impossible questions happened to put me back in the square where I’d spotted another man wearing an Ossira, all the better.
I’d only caught a glimpse of the necklace before he’d vanished into the crowd after the Calix game, but I hadn’t gone down into the city since.
I wasn’t going to find a way out of this place by waiting for answers to come to me.
“Fine,” I said. “But you’re paying.”
His smile grew wider. “Deal, but only because I’m confident you don’t have any money anyway.”
“I have thirteen of those strange little coins with dragons on them.”
Emrys grabbed my coat from the hook as we walked out the door. “I take it back. You’re buying.”
The path into the mountains was steep and winding, carved from rock that looked like it had been there since before magic was ever born to Fuerlis.
Emrys moved ahead of me with far more ease than he should have on the uneven ground.
Snow clung to the trail, filling in cracks and coating the stone.
The path was wide enough for dragons in human form to walk two abreast without crowding, but from the way the snow had settled, it didn’t look like many people came up here anymore.
“How much farther?” I asked.
He glanced back. “Not far. Getting tired already?”
“No,” I lied.
His brows wiggled. “Race you to the opening.”
On that, he shifted, a stunning light-blue dragon exploding from the spot the man had been. He wasted no time, roaring before racing up the mountain path.
“Cheater,” I called after him.
I summoned the dragon and lunged forward.
The wind rushed past as my claws found purchase against stone. Ahead, Emrys leapt from ledge to ledge, his bright scales flashing against the gray rock. Every time I thought I was gaining on him, he’d glance back and push harder, as if the possibility of losing had only just occurred to him.
A challenge.
The dragon in me loved challenges. I surged after him.
Fog curled through the pass, breaking around us as we climbed.
Loose stones skittered beneath our feet and vanished down the mountainside.
The higher we went, the stronger the wind became, whipping across my scales and filling my lungs with cold, clean air.
A laugh escaped me.
The sound startled me almost as much as it seemed to startle Emrys.
I’d flown. I’d fought. I’d hunted. But I’d never been a dragon simply because it was fun.
Emrys barked a victorious roar as the cave opening came into view above us.
I growled and launched forward, refusing to let him win without a fight.
I was larger than he was and I used it to my advantage, catching him in two determined wing beats.
He won on a technicality. His shift back was smooth as he landed on his feet just inside the cave, where mine was far less graceful and a hair too early. He’d had far more experience than me, but like a good sportsman, he didn’t rub it in too much.
“You’ll catch me next time, no doubt. Those wings are incredible.”
Smoothing down my hair, I let that compliment settle. I could be the dragon here freely. “Thanks.”
The entrance was massive, tall enough for a dragon in full form to enter without ducking. Natural formations created columns that held up the ceiling, and the deeper passages branched off. I’d bet money this place went on for miles.
Based on size and shape, the dragons had carved niches into the walls. Some held remnants of old fires. Others had been smoothed flat. There were scattered alcoves that must’ve been solace for recluse beasts. No wonder Emrys loved it here. This place was an abandoned city for dragons.
“This is incredible,” I said.
He walked deeper into the cave, his footsteps echoing. “Most people don’t come up here anymore. Too cold and far from the comforts of the city.” He ran his hand along one of the walls. “But it’s quiet. And there are things left behind if you know where to look.”
I followed him through a narrower passage that opened into a larger chamber. This one had carvings of intricate patterns that looked like they’d been made with claws, not tools. Some were deliberate. Others looked almost accidental, like someone had been testing how deep they could cut.
Emrys ran his hand over one deep gouge while looking around, clearly trying to decide which path he’d taken to find the book. My curiosity got the best of me.
“How old are you?” I asked.
He laughed. “Only about a hundred and three. But I stopped counting ages ago.”
A hundred and three. I tried not to let my surprise show. That was normal… totally normal.
“What about your parents?” I asked. “Do they still live in the city?”
Emrys turned to look at me, brows drawn together like I’d just asked something in a language he didn’t understand. “You’re so strange sometimes. Dragons are born in dragon form from magical eggs. We don’t have parents like the scorched do.” He tilted his head. “How do you not know that?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a dragon, not really. I’m a shifter. My parents are shifters.”
“That’s not...” He frowned. “That’s not how it works. You’re either born a dragon or you’re not.”
“Maybe here,” I said. “But where I’m from, shifters exist. We’re born human and learn to shift later.”
He stared at me. “What’s a shifter?”
“Someone who can change between forms. Human to beast. I wasn’t born from an egg.”
Emrys shook his head slowly. “I don’t think you’re right about that. It’s too strange. But what about the shadows, when you shift I mean. What are those? I’ve never seen them before.”
A blush of embarrassment bloomed across my cheeks. I hated being different with no answers. “Never?”
He took my hand, his nearly twice the size of mine, to help me up a narrow, uneven set of carved stairs. “Never. But I’ve also never seen a female dragon, so maybe you’re normal.”
“You’ve never seen a female dragon, Emrys?”
“Not in person.” He kept moving, pulling me along. “There are rumors that they hatch every once in a great while, but they never live. Don’t know why. Just what people say. Are there a lot of you out there, beyond the wall?”
“No.” The answer came quickly as I took the final step. “There are only three other dragons beyond the wall and they too are all males.”
Three Guardians. I thought about telling him what that meant, about their purpose and their history, but decided it was better to keep too much talk of Fuerlis at bay.
The more I said about where I’d come from, the more questions he’d have that I couldn’t answer.
Because I no longer trusted anything I thought I knew.
“Wait. If there are no females… How are there eggs?” I asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “They come from the mountains. We sweep them every once in a while to check for new hatchlings.”
I kept my thoughts to myself about that one. Eggs appearing magically in the belly of the mountains couldn’t be a full truth. It was too strange, but then again, everything about this place was strange.