Page 47 of Dragon Gods

“You’re hurt,” Sofia said.

“Don’t sound so gleeful.”

“We should find somewhere to wash it and dress it before the sun sets. I have a few of my own.”

He grunted in agreement. He didn’t want to think about how dirty that man’s claws were. Reluctant to see the damage, he lifted his tunic slowly and twisted so he could see his side in the thin strip of light bleeding in through the crevice.

The cuts weren’t as deep as he feared. They would likely scar, but they wouldn’t need stitches, which he was all too happy for. He didn’t want to know what Dragonborn considered first aid out here in the middle of the forest.

“We should head out,” Sofia said.

Fox was surprised to see her pushing herself up. Her skin still had a gray tint to it, but perhaps that was the lighting. He didn’t argue, letting his tunic drop and standing despite his body’s protests.

Squeezing back out through the rocks was easier, but Fox was careful to avoid the body of the wolf—the shapeshifter. This time, there was no pretending he hadn’t seen what he’d seen. But just because a few of the myths from the old Dragonborn tales were real didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean that the dragons were alive or had ever been gods.

Though his father had refused to suffer faerytales in his house, he’d read them the histories of Wueco. The great king had seen the creatures of the forest for what they were—a plague on the humans that needed to be cured. The wall had been built to protect them from those things that had refused to be tamed. The truth of the creatures may have faded into myth over time, but the great king had truly protected the humans from the dark that could have killed them all. Nothing good came from this place.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

Sofia’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he saw she was walking left, between two particularly thick trees choked with vines. He muttered a curse, but followed her, unhappy as the sharp thorns on the vine pricked at his tunic and scraped against his side, aggravating his wound.

“What else lives out here?”

She didn’t answer immediately and he looked up from where he was focused on not tripping to see her staring at him with something akin to hatred.

“Making a list so you can bring your fellow murderers out here to destroy more of the land?”

“You can’t possibly have empathy for these blood-sucking faeries and murderous man-wolves? Why is everything in this rainforest so fixated on killing humans?”

“Becausecertain humansspent centuries hunting them and murdering them for daring to exist in the land that created them.”

“It’s normal to kill the things that threaten us. As normal as hunting to eat.”

“They’re threatening us because we’re in their territory. Because for the past five centuries, we’ve been locked behind a wall and allowed the chaos to thrive. Because not even the dragons are here anymore to create the balance they were made for.”

“Then I’m all too glad to be behind the wall. If you and your people are so desperate to leave Suvi, we should let you. You can die out here trying to find balance and be one with this evil shithole.”

“Do you ever wonder why your king doesn’t do just that? Let us go free into the rainforest?”

“He’s your king, too,” he muttered, but she ignored the comment.

“Because he knows that if we were allowed back in our native land, we would thrive. Because our existence threatens his claim as the true god. If we thrive without him, then what claim does he have to rule over any of us?”

Fox felt his face flushed red with anger. He wasn’t as devoted as some to the belief that the king was a god, but to speak such things out loud was blasphemy—the kind that he usually arrested and executed people for.

“You forget who I am,” he said.

She whirled on him, stepping in close even as it forced her to tilt her chin up at him. “And who are you? The spoiled brat son of the general? The chief commander’s favorite little killer? The soldier not even important enough to give up a few Dragonborn prisoners to save? Tell me,Ocon, who am I supposed to think you are?”

“They didn’t trade me because they knew they wouldn’t need to,” he said, spitting the words even as the band around his chest tightened. “And they were right. I escaped and your traitor friends were still executed. I call it a win-win.”

He didn’t see her move until her fist was already flying toward his face. He had only a second to dodge to the side, grabbing her wrist. Before he could further subdue her, she twisted, kneeing him hard in the groin. He bent in half with a groan. In all the fights he’d been in, it was the first someone had been dirty enough to aim there.

“Bitch!”

She pulled back her fist, but he grabbed her by the waist and toppled them both over before she had the chance. He straddled her, pressing her wrists into the hard ground as she continued to flail, hips bucking as if to throw him off. Fox gave a grunt as he held her down.

Her face was flushed red and her eyes burned with such intensity he thought they might catch fire.

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