Page 37 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“I cannot promise Thelise’s silence,” he replies. “Discretion is not her strongest point.”

“Do your best to convince her, I beg you.” I hesitate, my neck and tail tense with guilt. “Even if it would not undermine Kyreagan, I’m not sure I would take her home. I am selfish. I want her to stay.”

“I understand. But you should look within yourself and know that selfishness is the enemy of true love. Your Grimmaw once told me that.”

My grandmother’s name is like a lance wedging between my scales, piercing my heart.

“Go now, my prince,” Ashvelon urges. “Thelise wishes all dragons to be on the ground with their captives by sunset, to comfort them through the change. Return to your woman. I will make your request to the sorceress.”

“You have my gratitude.” I duck my head in thanks, then mount to the open sky again.

As I fly, I ponder the enchantress’s words, her oath to Kyreagan, and her directive about remaining grounded this evening. None of it sits right with me. I don’t trust her.

Perhaps I should go back and try to get past Ashvelon, to demand honesty from the sorceress. I doubt she has any intention of transforming the women into dragons, but neitherdoes she seem like the type of person who would attempt to kill us all and end her own life in the process, like her father did.

Why would she demand that all of us remain grounded? Perhaps she is planning to magically remove our wings? But that would make no sense—she would be trapped in Ashvelon’s cave with no way to get down. And without our powers of flight, none of the women would be able to get back to the mainland.

If Thelise is truly attempting to perform the spell Kyreagan requested, I can only hope she will spare Jessiva. Otherwise I will be sharing the seaside cave with a very angry female dragon tonight.

I’m not sure Kyreagan has fully anticipated the results of the spell. I imagine him trying to cope with a furious, fiery Princess of Elekstan in dragon form, and the thought makes me laugh as I glide through the golden air of the late afternoon.

I truly hope he has found Serylla. If I had time, I would help him look for her, but I must return to my woman. Whatever happens tonight, I will not leave Jessiva to endure it alone.

Before returning to the cave where I left her, I stop by the cavern to request a portion of cooked food from the women there. Several of the dragons have already landed in the courtyard and are preparing to settle in for the evening, while others are pausing there only briefly to collect their women and take them to higher roosts or protected hollows for the night.

In Jessiva’s absence, another woman is overseeing the preparation of the evening meal. She’s taller and more muscular than the rest, with brown hair that’s braided along the crown of her head before falling loosely around her shoulders. I believe she’s the knight that Jaerix snatched from a palace tower. I can’t be sure, though, since I’ve seen her with Runaris as well. She’s dirty and bruised, dressed in the remaining rags of her clothing, her pale eyes alight with resentful fire. Perhaps she fled today and was recaptured.

When I ask for food on Jessiva’s behalf, and perhaps a blanket, the woman gives me a large piece of white cloth and a makeshift basket of woven grass containing some strips of meat and a few roasted vegetables.

“Which dragon is yours?” I ask her, curious.

Her eyes go blank and startled for a second. “Jaerix,” she says in a low, rich voice. “Or Runaris. And… um… maybe Zaedian.”

“Indeed?”

“I don’t really know,” she says helplessly. “Two of them fight about it frequently, and the other pretends he doesn’t care. Why did you dragons have to complicate my life this way?”

“My sincere apologies.” I bow my head to her. “Thank you for the food. My darling thanks you as well.”

“Your darling?” She smiles a little. “How sweet.”

“Enjoy your last hours as a human.” With another bow, I take off. When I glance down, she’s standing there, staring up at me, her face horror-stricken.

Perhaps I should not have said that. It was rather insensitive, like something Kyreagan would blurt out.

It’s too late to fix it now. Someone else will have to comfort her. I’m running out of time.

By the time I reach the seaside cave, the ocean is fiery liquid gold, pooling at the base of the sinking sun. I sweep into the cave and begin to land, only to skid left at the last second to avoid crushing Jessiva’s recumbent form. She’s sound asleep just inside the cave mouth, where the last rays of the sun slant in to warm the stone.

The rush of my arrival wakes her, and she sits up, straightening her dress.

“I brought you food, and something to use as a blanket.” I place the small basket and the white cloth beside her.

“This is a piece of a cloak,” she says. “Barely enough to cover up with.”

Discouraged, I sit back on my haunches. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softens. “It’s better than nothing. Thank you for this, and for the food. And for…” She bites her lip, glancing away. “I never thanked you for saving me from those men on the rooftop. I didn’t feel like expressing gratitude at the time, because you immediately kidnapped me.”

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