20. In the Ashes #3
He says nothing at first, and I resist the urge to squirm beneath his narrow-eyed regard. Finally, in a voice no less severe for all its softness, he says, “You know nothing of us . . . human.”
Human. Such a dirty word to him. Just as dragon is a foul word to me.
Danhy glances back and forth between us, her expression one I cannot quite decipher. “Kill her, Tage,” she urges, “so we don’t have to hear another senseless word fall from her lips.”
A long silence falls, heavy as the fog-laden air.
I cease to breathe, waiting for the blow to come.
Tage considers me, cold calculation in his eyes. I cling to his stare, not letting go. There isn’t a hint of softness anywhere in his expression, but still I search for it, search for an indication that he might let me live.
I can’t bring myself to beg for my life though . . . not after everyone else lies dead. Who am I to think I deserve a fate better than what they got? I am no better. In many ways, I feel as though I am worse. Whilst they were butchered, I ran for safety in the trees.
The quiet one among them with bright green eyes speaks up, clearing his throat. “Uh. Not to sound heartless, but Danhy is right. We cannot leave a witness . . .”
I stare hard at Tage, sensing his indecision, knowing it might be the one thing—he might be the one thing—keeping me alive right now.
Arvos nods briskly, agreeing. “No witnesses.”
It’s baffling. I don’t know why it should matter to them that I witnessed their savagery.
Arvos continues, offering, “If the task is too distasteful for you, I can take care of her.”
Arvos reaches for me almost eagerly, but Tage throws up a hand and roughly knocks Arvos’s arm away. “No one touches her.”
I inhale sharply.
Danhy shakes her head in bewilderment. “Someone needs to do it. If not you, then one of us—”
“Until we have a better understanding of why shading fails to work on her, no one touches her.” Tage sweeps them all with a look of menace. “Understand? She’s under my protection.”
A chill ripples through me, and I wonder if salvation at his hands might be the worst fate of all. To be kept alive. With them.
“Then what do we do with her?” Arvos demands, shaking his head. “We can’t leave her here to carry tales of us.”
“Or you could,” I toss out. “I won’t speak a word. I swear it. Who would believe me anyway? Just let me go.”
They ignore me. It’s almost like I’m still invisible.
“I’m aware that we can’t leave her,” Tage growls, and I feel the rough scrape of his voice low and deep in my belly.
I shake my head wildly. “You can!”
He looks at me again, deeply, sharply. His dark, prismatic stare traps me like a tar pit sucking me under. “You don’t see it . . . ?”
A long beat follows as they all look at me, prompted by whatever it is he claims to see in me.
“See what?” Danhy bites off the word.
Tage’s gaze continues to flicker over me. “There is something about her . . .”
I wait for him to finish, but he never does.
His capricious eyes flash in the glow of the smoldering village. Not human. It’s a useful reminder. He’s a creature of magic. Toxic. Deadly. The past come to life. I would be safer throwing myself on the sword of one of the king’s soldiers. I might have a chance for survival that way.
“What do you mean?” Arvos prompts Tage to elaborate.
“What do you see? Is it her weird eyes?” I flinch, a once familiar and automatic reaction to the unkind comments about my mismatched eyes.
It’s been years since anyone remarked on them—since anyone could observe the unattractive physical trait.
Arvos shrugs. “Other than that, she looks like any other human to me.”
“Except she’s not like any other human, or she would be shaded right now.
Clearly, she is different, and I want to know why.
We need to know why.” Tage searches my face, peering into my eyes like he could see directly into my soul.
With a fierce shake of his head, as though trying to jostle himself loose from some spell, he pronounces, “If we cannot risk leaving a witness behind, then we won’t.
” He finishes his words with a decisiveness that rings like a death knell.
I feel the verdict of his words settle like a noose around my neck.
“But she can’t be shaded,” Arvos counters, clearly perplexed, not understanding the implication of the words.
Tage lifts a dark eyebrow, waiting for Arvos to catch up.
Danhy is the first to understand. “You cannot mean that we are to take her with us!” Her hazel eyes burn gold.
I suck in a breath.
“That is precisely what I mean. I see no other option. We all agreed that we cannot leave any witnesses, so we take her with us.”
I shake my head in furious denial. “No! No, please, don’t—” My words choke off when he releases me to step back far enough to spread out his arms. After a moment, I realize that he’s giving himself room, space to change back into his dragon.
He’s going to transform and take me with him.
Into the skies . . . among them. Their prisoner to be kept and studied and inspected.
Turning, I run.