Page 72 of Lady Dragon
The twitching antennae popped up first, of course, the most repellent stalks to ever spring from the earth, followed by the wicked, serrated scythes of those pincers. But Kirek waited, utterly still, for the head of the blossom to rise, monstrous as it was—the clicking, grinding maw, ringed in sharp edges. And then Kirek became the true bloom, unfurling the violence in every bit of muscle from her feet to thighs, hips to shoulders, and thrust her sword. The steel tip went through its mouth and into its brain—skies above, she hoped it had a brain—and hit chitin on the other side, where it jarred Kirek’s arms as if she’d stabbed a stone wall with full force, and went no farther.
The centipede froze, but didn’t fall. Kirek would have happily let it take her sword down with it, in this instance, but its many legs remained attached to the cliff face, supporting its weight. So, once more pivoting from the hips, Kirek drew her leg up, still clutching her hilt, and kicked it in the face as hard as she could.
The rebounding force of her blow smashed her back againstthe hillside, her sword coming with her. Freed from the blade, and preferably its life, the centipede tipped backward, one segment at a time, leaning like a tree… and fell. This time, after she heard the resoundingcrunchof it hitting the rocks far below, Kirek didn’t hear anything else.
She still sat there for a moment, gasping for breath, before she realized one of her boots, the one that had connected with the centipede, was once again hanging off the edge. She yanked it back to safety, thrust her sword into the ground, and used it to haul herself away from the cliff with as much haste as she could muster. As a dragon, she might have trumpeted her victory, or strutted a circle around the corpse of her fallen foe. But her foe had fallenquitefar, she had no interest in descending to find its corpse, and, furthermore, she was a jittery pile of human-shaped flesh wrapped in fragile skin, not a dragon.
When she climbed her way back up the mountain to where the centipede had first attacked, she was alone. Samansa was still gone. Had never circled back for her. It was then that Kirek’s nerves caught up with her, and her body started shaking. She took huge, shuddering gulps of scorching, metallic air and tried to calm herself.
Samansa hadlefther. To be devoured by a giant centipede, trapped between rivers of lava and a deathly drop, on the side of a volcano that had just erupted.
No, Kirek told herself. The red dragon had left her. But that understanding didn’t stop the hot tears that spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Which was only one more sign of how human she was becoming.
She scrubbed her tears away on her leather sleeve, hissing as the movement made her ragged hands suddenly roarto ferocious, stinging life. Now she could feel all the cuts and bruises she couldn’t before. But she didn’t have time to indulge the pain, or her self-pity.
Because, as bad as she felt, Samansa would feel worse—and she might pay for it withherhuman skin. If Samansa’s guilt broke through the hard-scaled disdain of the red dragon, as it had done before, after she’d abandoned Kirek at High Nest, then she might transform. And, as unforgiving as this place was to Kirek’s human body, hers was far stronger than Samansa’s. Kirek didn’t even know if Samansa couldbreatheout here, let alone not immediately burn, if she didn’t fall to her death from the air. The surface of Kirek’s leathers, her hair, were fiercely hot to the touch. She didn’t even try to test the steel of her sword, lest it blister her finger.
She sheathed her sword, and started up the mountain. Her boots slipped in the scree, but she gripped her thighs in her hands and used her arms to help push her legs upward. Lava flows moved sluggishly past her, but she was gaining on them, at least, no matter how slow her climb felt. Her lungs burned as she forced more acrid, searing air into them. She wished for her indifferent dragon throat, wished she could exhale fire instead of inhale it.
It was then she began to transform.
As good as it felt—her weight sinking into the hillside, her claws gaining traction, her limbs elongating in a pleasant stretch, her wings spreading and tail whipping out, her lungs yawning in size, giving the air room to cool—she tipped her massive head back and roared at the dark, soot-streaked sky in despair. This was the first time shehadn’ttruly wanted it, but not for her own sake.
Where was Samansa?
Kirek leaped up and flew off without further thought. Her wings carved the parched, scorching air as if they were fins in cold water. Scanning the mountainside through the haze, she traced between veins of lava and clouds of smoke, following the vague tug in her chest, scouring the dark patches of earth in between for any sign of movement, hoping desperately she wouldn’t miss anything.
And there—much higher up the mountain, she caught a glimpse of yellow fabric through the ash and steam, like a fallen flag on a human battlefield, trampled into mud. If only this were mud.
At least the princess wasn’t lying in molten lava as Kirek landed next to her. The dragon immediately encased her in the shelter of her wings and nudged her with her snout.
Samansa!
The body on the ground stirred. Coughed. She wasalive. She could even sit up, though it looked as if it took all her effort to do so. “Kirek?” she rasped. Her throat sounded raw.
I’m here, little one. And youcan’tbe here.
No matter how much Kirek wanted to stay this way, Samansa needed to change back.Now.
The princess wiped the hair out of her face with a shaking hand and smeared ash across her forehead. “I wanted to leave you, but I couldn’t. I felt a pull back toward you. It must be the Heartstone—this cursed Heartstone!” she cried. “Just leave me, like I left you.”
Kirek thought frantically about everything that made them transform. When they lost sight of themselves, felt weak in whatever form, and another pair of eyes took over. When theyremembered and sank back into their true selves, or when the new side of them, gifted by the Heartstone, seized control and burst free. It happened when they were asleep, at their most vulnerable, or awake when their emotions ran strongest, whether in rage or despair.
Kirek was awake, but she felt numb. And she was losing Samansa—not to the red dragon, this time, but to this horrid place.
Kirek had to provoke her. Make her angry in Kirek’s stead.Your leaving me only proved it. I don’t care for you! I never could have. You’re a weak, pathetic human who doesn’t deserve my loyalty!
The princess blinked, and stared at her with glazed amber eyes, now red-shot and lined in soot. And then her face screwed up and she started to cry, shoulders shaking feebly, barely enough water in her body to make tears. She curled in on herself, hugging her knees. “Just leave me to die.”
Samansa was already dying. There was no part of her, either conscious or asleep, that would rise to the challenge of this fiery graveyard.
Which meant that Kirek had to make herself vulnerable. Split open her armor and let herself bleed. Lower her walls and let the human side of herin. There was no other way.
You’re not weak, dragon. You are mighty, Kirek said, dropping her head to meet Samansa’s gaze.And I—I’m the small one, with my human feelings for you, feelings that consume me down to my bones.She wanted to look away, but she didn’t.I… I love you.
Samansa’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open with a little gasp.
Kirek forced herself on.I want to touch you, despite what you may think, with every urging of my body. I want to hold you inmy arms—in human arms. I want to kiss you with human lips. I wantmore, urges that I don’t even understand. Give me the body to understand. A body that can touch yours, even if I can never reach you, at the heights you’ve attained.Kirek ducked far enough down, tucking in her chin, to nudge the princess’s forehead with her own, practically folding in on herself.If love makes me weak, so be it. I will be weak for you, and your strength will rise when I collapse under the weight of what I feel.Youare the strong one. Grant me the ability to indulge my weakness, even from afar. Please, I beg. Make me human. Become the dragon to tower over me, with unassailable walls. The dragon that I will bow before.Stretching out her back legs, Kirek laid herself entirely down before her.The dragon that I will never be worthy of. That will be worthy only of devotion—mine, and whoever may follow me, after I crumble.
