Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
I had said no more strays . I thought I’d been pretty clear. And yet here she was, bringing back another mud girl. At least I recognized this one: Mari, Shava’s friend from the mud quarter who I’d knocked out and left in the tunnels.
By the look of awe on Mari’s face, she didn’t remember any of that.
Good.
Like Shava, she’d survived her reaping. I supposed she could stay. What harm could one girl do, anyway?
I stood in the desert surrounded by refugees, glaring up at the cave where I knew Zariah and Zion were holed up with Mari.
What fucking damage could one girl do, eh?
The entire kingdom was about to implode because of one goddamn girl. She’d tried to kill me in my own domain and had threatened everything I’d worked so hard to build.
Everyone else was happy–ecstatic, even. The dragons had flown far and wide and brought back food. Meat. A giant bonfire blazed and Mari’s people from the mud quarter danced with the exiled Nobles, everyone happy and free.
I was furious.
“Here they come. Bitch.”
Shava patted me on the shoulder as a dragon glided down from the cliff, the other twin and Mari on its back.
I turned and busied myself with distributing the remaining food, only turning when I heard the crowd behind me.
At least Shava understood. She was the only other one angry at the meddling mud girl for attempted murder. To make it worse, Mari knew my secret.
She had to die, and quickly.
“Here. Don’t think I forgot about you.”
Zion took a giant drumstick from me and handed it to Mari. She grasped the greasy meat in her fingers, frowning at it.
“Where did Zariah get this? The land around here…”
The tips of Zion’s ears blushed red. “It’s … well, there are kingdoms far from here that aren’t so far for a dragon. And their farms are large, with huge herds of prey—I mean, animals. Trust me, they won’t miss these.”
I rolled my eyes and sat down next to the fire and Shava.
“Sit and eat,” Zion insisted. “Everyone else has. It’s your turn.” Zion guided Mari down to sit in front of the fire, next to me and Shava. Shava ignored Mari.
Time to get in her head.
“Do you know I’ve read books about witches?” I asked her.
“Witches?” she replied dully, not really interested.
“Yes, like the one that laid this curse,” I confirmed. “ They come in different kinds, I guess. Each represents an element like air, water, fire, that sort of thing.”
She stared at the remaining meat in her hands.
“It’s fascinating,” I continued, my enthusiasm not in the least bit dampened by her aloofness. “There’s also different kinds of magick: black and white.”
Her head perked up. “Like good and evil?” She asked.
I scoffed. “No, not at all. Different kinds of energies. Good and evil is subjective, anyway. Did you think mercy killing the demons was evil, or a ‘good’ thing to do?”
She squirmed under his intense stare. Good.
“My point is, they’re just different types of energy. The books say magickal creatures can harness both, but it’s horrendously difficult. Most pick one or the other. Neat, eh?”
She blanched and I drew back, hands flexing on my knees. “I thought you’d be more interested.”
Her shoulders shrugged. “Aren’t any witches around here, are there?”
I gave her a look before I could help it. I just couldn’t pretend to be nice to her.
“Well …” she said, “what kind of witch do you think laid the curse?”
I perked up immediately. “Ah, now that is a worthy question. It’s hard to say. Cursing a bloodline to be dragons hardly fits a particular element, does it?”
“Maybe fire,” she suggested half-heartedly, tossing the remnants of her bone into the large fire. It sizzled where it hit the flames, the last scraps of meat and juices hissing and burning up.
“Zephyr,” she began quietly, so as not to attract anyone else’s attention, “while I appreciate you volunteering to lead the refugees to a better home, you know you can’t do that.
What about the …” she gestured vaguely to my sleeves, un der which we both knew my demon transformation was already beginning.
Fuck her.
I smiled widely. “Ah Mari, don’t worry about that. I’ve found a solution!”
Her lips parted in shock. “To stop the change?”
My smile hurt my cheeks. “I have you to thank, really. You said ‘we don’t have magick’. Do you remember?”
She clearly didn’t. Oh well.
“Anyway, you were half right. Humans don’t have magick.
But those with noble blood do, you see? The witch gifted it to us along with the curse.
We can’t change into demons without some kind of magick in our veins, can we?
I’m so thankful to you for this realization, I am willing to drop our little feud and lead your little muddies to freedom. ”
Mari nodded dumbly.
I kept my tone light. “Well, as I lay there hoping I wasn’t bleeding internally, I realized that if I had magick, maybe I could try some of the white and black rituals written down in the book. So you see, our little squabble was necessary for the greater picture.”
“And did you try any rituals?” she asked, clearly wary.
I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Not this specific type. There’s a lot you need to do a ritual. I will, though. I need a special … ingredient.”
“And this … ritual … will keep you from changing?”
I only grinned, gave her a patronizing pat on the head, and walked off. Shava followed behind me, glaring at her former friend.
Shava and I only managed a few stolen moments together before the ground shook, and the air filled with screams of terror.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I spat out, pushing Shava off me and yanking my pants up.
“I thought you said the queen wouldn’t attack?” Shava asked, frowning as she set her own clothes right.
“I said she wouldn’t attack yet, ” I replied, irritated. Was every woman conspiring against me as of late?
The screams intensified as we stumbled out of the small crack in the side of the cliff, running back towards the refugees. The thundering in the distance and the accompanying wave of dust could mean only one thing.
“She’s attacking with her army! What a cunt!”
I echoed Shava’s thoughts in my head. Attacking unarmed refugees seemed a bit much, but I already knew she was a heartless, crazy bitch.
I learned that the day my mother died.
“RUN!”
People shouted and stampeded as the queen advanced, barking out orders. We made it to the edge of the crowd before Shava was seized by a frantic woman.
“Shava! I can’t find Poppy!”
I growled in annoyance. We were supposed to care about one stupid little girl ahead of the entire camp?
“Was she playing near the tunnel again? It isn’t safe with the dragons nearby!” Shava insisted. The woman’s face went white, confirming that the girl was likely down in one of the tunnels.
Shava took off, leaving both of us behind.
I sprinted after her, catching up just at the tunnel entrance and grabbing her arm. “What? Absolutely not!”
Shava turned on her heel, fire in her eyes. “She’s a child ! How can you sentence a child to die? ”
I didn’t like the disbelief and disgust in her voice.
“A child will have a much harder time surviving in the desert. I don’t care whether the child lives or dies.
You help run this entire camp. Everyone looks up to you and trusts you in a way no one else does, even that Mari girl.
Everything would fall apart without you.
The risk is not worth it.” I paused, unsure whether it was wise to say, but I had to use every weapon in my arsenal, no matter how vulnerable it left me.
“I don’t care about the child. I care about you ,” I whispered vehemently. Her eyes widened with momentary shock, before the anger settled in again.
“I suppose that’s as sweet and sugary a declaration of love as anyone could get from you,” she sniffed.
I reared back, shocked. Love? Who said anything about love ? She was raving, stark mad, and?—
“SHAVA! SHAVA!”
Shava ran deeper into the tunnel as the little girl’s shrieks pierced the air, the ground rumbling under our feet.
“Son of fucking …” I grit my teeth and went after them both.
“SHAVA! WHERE?—”
My shouts cut off as part of the roof caved in, missing my head by an inch.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. ”
Tiny arms found my leg and dug in with fingernails like claws. I almost kicked at it on instinct before realizing it was the little girl. As the walls shook around us, I peered down at her.
“Where is Shava?” I demanded.
She cried noisily, burying her head into my leg.
Seeing there was nothing for it, I slung her over my shoulder like a sack of wheat, ignoring how she screamed and kicked, banging her little fists against my back. Did the little whelp want to be saved or not?
Without flourish I raced back to the tunnel entrance and dumped her. To my relief she immediately ran off, no doubt in search of her mother or someone else a bit more sympathetic to her big doe eyes than me.
As I turned back, one of the large wooden support beams holding up the mine entrance cracked, and the entire ceiling buckled.
If I went in now, I wouldn’t be coming back out.
Shava’s words rang in my ears.
“ I suppose that’s as sweet and sugary a declaration of love as anyone could get from you.”
“No, it’s not,” I argued to the crumbling tunnel. “This is.”
I dove in.
Love is stupid. Love is a distraction. Love turns you from your goals and dreams and turns you into a spineless worm, incapable of rational thought or emotions. I don’t love her. I’m simply obsessed with how my cock feels inside of her, of how wild her eyes get when we fight, when ? —
The internal chant kept up as I dodged and weaved between falling rocks and growing debris, coughing and putting an arm over my face to save my lungs.
I went deeper and deeper, unable to find her.
You wouldn’t find your nose in this mess. How much further will you push it?
Every footstep brought me closer to death.
Just a few more steps.
Just a few more steps.
Just a few more—whumpf .