CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
For those dragons disinterested in human affairs, that might be knowledge or treasure.
For those dragons who were interested in what human society had to offer, it might be the people under their rule.
King Malgath of Uvrakar was a dragon who lived as a human.
He had a whole kingdom under his protection.
The flame wouldn’t summon for me. But maybe it would summon for those under my protection.
And right now, that was Eterna. Would it be enough to convince the ring to burn for me?
My window of opportunity was rapidly closing.
Soon, the guards would close the gap. Soon, I would be in Rogam’s clutches once again.
I couldn’t allow that to happen. I stared the guards down, face pale but unyielding.
I have a duty to protect against these enemies, I told the ring, visualizing a protective wall of flame in front of me.
The ring grew warm. Will you burn for me?
I asked it fervently. For those under my care?
Rogam would harm what is mine to protect—will you allow it?
A deep, throaty laugh rumbled unexpectedly through my head.
At the same time, an image of a grinning dragon flickered behind my eyes.
Grinning or baring its teeth? Either way, pearly white teeth shimmered against emerald-green scales.
I shook my head, clearing the strange vision from my mind.
The ring grew hot and began to glow. My body grew feverish as a stream of golden-red flame burst from its center.
Fast—too fast—
I tried my best to rein it in, to prevent it from pouring forth too greedily, but I had no practice containing the ring’s flame and it snaked quickly out of my control, unfazed by my attempts to contain its spread.
Once freed, it required no further direction from me.
It knew how to burn. And so it did. The wall of flame wasn’t like I’d planned at all.
It was much, much taller and stretched for much, much longer than I dared to envision.
I saw a few astonished looks before the flame blocked Rogam’s guards entirely from my sight.
For a terrifying moment, the ring’s heat threatened to consume me. To burn. And keep on burning. My body growing more feverish by the moment. But moonlight had recently become my domain. I would make myself be cool, as tranquil as the moon’s gentle glow. I would not let the ring consume me too—
The ring grew cold, then abruptly ceased to release any more flame.
A series of jagged cracks appeared throughout its metal band.
Broken. I don’t think it was meant to be used only once.
Why didn’t anything ever come with a guidebook?
I was growing tired of getting by on intuition alone.
At least I hadn’t quenched the fire by severing my connection to the ring.
The wall of flame blazed just as brightly as before.
Now to take advantage.
Corvin was still crouched near the shoreline. Resuming my escape, I turned away from the warmth of the flame and ran toward his location. When I reached him, I could see Eterna standing on the ground at his side. The salty tang of ocean air filled my nostrils as the tide lapped at the shore.
The next part of our escape plan depended upon whether or not he had been able to heal her wings.
“Were you able to fix her wings—” At the sound of my voice, Corvin turned his head, his eyes seeking mine, evident relief etched across his face.
“You made it out.” Then, more softly, “I was about to go back inside. I couldn’t stop worrying about what might be happening to you. ”
“I’m alright,” I said, surprised to find it was true after everything we had just been through.
“I was able to mend Eterna’s wings.” His gaze landed on the wall of flame. “How did you…?”
“An artifact from the island. Dragon flame.”
“Arson? Who has criminal tendencies now?” he teased.
I shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. “Haven’t we established that no prison cell can hold us?”
“Us? So we’re partners in crime then?” Corvin asked with a laugh.
“Partners in crime,” I affirmed. My intention was to match his humorous tone, but we had just overcome so much together, and the words came out sincere.
Corvin’s eyes lingered on mine a moment longer, and he lightly brushed a finger over the ring on my thumb.
“You should be careful with this—dragons can be ruthless. It was a dragon scout, patrolling the skies, who tricked me into trusting him before turning on me and killing my mother.”
“Oh,” I replied. “I’m so sorry. No wonder you’re worried. But I think it’s broken now anyway.”
“Good,” he grunted. He turned his attention back to Eterna. “Ready to fly home?”
A phoenix flying overhead in Kothia was akin to a dragon flying overhead anywhere else. “Wait, do you have anything to help disguise her identity? She’s too conspicuous. It won’t be safe.”
Corvin brushed his cloak. “Let me think. Disguise…something to disguise…” He started to touch a purplish-brown feather before quickly withdrawing his hand.
“No, not that one.” He chose a blue feather with a single green stripe next, but abandoned it almost as quickly as his first selection.
“I’ve got it!” he finally exclaimed, tugging on a predominantly black feather with rows of large white spots.
“A cuckoo feather. They can mimic the eggs of other birds. Experts at impersonation if you will. Horrible habit of tricking other birds into raising their young. I might be able to take that ability further, disguise Eterna so she looks like a common bird instead of a phoenix. Kind of like a glamour.”
“Perfect! That would certainly draw less attention,” I approved.
Corvin addressed Eterna. “Is that okay with you? The magic would be temporary. It will fade quickly if you decide you no longer need it.” The phoenix shut her eyes in a slow blink, signaling her agreement.
He proceeded to pull the feather off his cloak.
Moments later, I realized I missed Corvin’s magic enveloping Eterna; I was too busy watching his face instead—the slight scrunch of his brow and purse of his lips as he concentrated on drawing forth the feather’s powers.
When I drew my eyes away from Corvin, I found Eterna covered in his glamour.
A common goose. Unless I squinted, in which case I could still catch a glimpse of her red feathers and golden eyes.
My voice was emotional as I bid her farewell.
“You’re free now, Eterna. Free to return home.
We’ll find our own way back. This is the best chance we can give you.
Fly home to Terani.” Using her beak, she preened her feathers.
For a moment, I was worried her wings were still giving her trouble, but she took to the sky shortly after leaving behind a single red feather.
A gift. Corvin’s eyes went wide. He reached down, reverently grabbing the feather so that he could attach it to his cloak.
“Are you from Uvrakar then?” I asked, waiting while he sewed a quick stitch.
“No, I’m not.”
“Then how did you encounter a dragon scout—” I stalled, eyes drifting from the sky back to the ocean.
My blood ran cold. A small boat floated in the water, bypassing the flame blockade.
And Rogam was standing at its helm, crossbow leveled.
“Look over there!” I gasped, frantically pointing toward the boat.
Rogam made the mistake of shooting at Corvin first.
As the bolt whizzed, Corvin shifted, easily evading it in his raven form.
Without hesitation, Rogam reached for another bolt, preparing to reload his crossbow.
At any moment he would shoot again. If we flew away now, we risked making ourselves a target.
Rogam’s boat dipped up and down, moving with the swell of the ocean.
He was taking a risk, venturing into the ocean and assuming the tides wouldn’t capsize his small boat.
But…what if they did? I looked up at the nearly full moon.
The ocean was restless, but without the moon, it was unmoving.
She was the force that inspired the water to movement.
High, low. Rise, fall. Pull, push. Expand, shrink.
Here, gone. The ocean stirred for the moon.
Swelled, tugged, crashed—all in tune to her will.
She was the partner whose dance they always joined.
The only choreography they cared to learn.
And it was my turn to direct the dance. Ribbons of moonlight swirled around me as my skin began to pulse with a silvery light.
High. Rise. Pull. Expand. Here.
I am your moon—and you will pull to me!
Rogam finished reloading the crossbow. But he never got the chance to fire off another bolt.
Just as he raised his weapon, the water heeded my command, surging forward in a colossal wave, which swiftly crested over his small boat, dragging the vessel down, down, down into the ocean’s watery depths.
Knocked from the helm, Rogam managed to avoid the same fate.
He floated nearby, vigorously treading water.
To my right, the flame wall died down.
Corvin shifted back, watching as Rogam began to swim toward land. “Shall we leave our host to his swim? I’ve been told the best dinner guests always know when it’s time to leave.”
I tucked myself into his side. “Yes, I rather think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Effortlessly, Corvin lifted me into his arms, making sure I was comfortable before spreading his wings.
With a powerful upward leap, the sky became our refuge.