Page 131 of Veiled Flames
Bones are easily digested. Horns are not worth the trouble.
Zogar flies west along the edge of the barrier mountains, and I pray to Othrix he’s changed his mind about crossing the veil. He swerves, and our vision sharply shifts back to the east.
Two dragons are flying toward us. My heart rate accelerates.
Xendus and Surath.
I’m not certain whether Zogar thought this or whether I did. He doesn’t respond to my unspoken question, but I likely would have thought of the riders’ names before their dragons’. Zogar circles the field we’re above and selects a place to land.
Given his size, he touches down far more gently than I expect, and yet I feel the impact deep inside me. Not far away, Saxon’s and Tynan’s dragons land too.
Zogar’s knot contracts most of the way, leaving me feeling empty, even though his pommel is still inside me. I glance to the side, feeling precarious up so high.
“How will I get down?” I ask. “I have no mounting rope.”
Mounting rope? What is this?
I’m glad he can still hear me. “Riders use ropes to climb up and down from their dragons’ backs. They fasten a loop around one of the spikes on their dragon’s neck.”
Zogar snorts, clearly irritated.More evidence of my people’s enslavement.
Fine, I think. He doesn’t want a rope attached to him. But his back is at least thirty spans above the ground, and I have no idea how to get down. If, in fact, Zogar will allow it.
You may do as you wish,he says.As long as you remount me shortly. At this moment, I have business that does not involve you.
“How do I get down?”
Move along my back toward my wing. I will prepare it so you can slide down.
He shifts, and the large, claw-like spike at the end of his wing bores into the earth. It looks dangerous—I’m so high—but he could be right. Given the stability and angle he created, his wing might provide a slide of sorts. But I have no idea how I’d ever get back up.
Zogar, if he can still hear my question, with his knot partially contracted, doesn’t answer.
Saxon has dismounted and is striding toward us, his sword drawn as if he plans to use it against Zogar.
“Rosomon.” Saxon stops as he shouts. “Get down from that monster. You’re not safe!”
Anger builds inside me again. My own anger this time. If I dismount, Saxon will force me back to camp and I’ll never be atop Zogar again.
Zogar blasts a long stream of fire into the air. And then he angles the flames downward. They barely clear Saxon’s head. Saxon stops but doesn’t retreat.
You harbor great anger toward this man. I will slay your enemy!
“No!” I shout. “Please, Zogar, don’t kill him.”
A chasm cracks open inside me. Anger aside, I care about Saxon. I wouldn’t want to see any human die, but especially not Saxon. Memories of our time in his tent flash through my mind. Of how kind and patient he was when he taught me about my body, about sex, about pleasure. I remember how he looks at me with so much admiration and longing in his eyes.
You love this human.
“No.” Do I? I’m uncertain about that, but certain I don’t want him to die.
As you wish,Zogar says.Surath also wishes this man to live. Tell your lover: if he retreats now, I will spare his life.
I gasp. At least two more of my questions have been answered. Not only do the dragons recognize each other, they can communicate. How?
That is not for you to know, little one. Not yet. And my mercy has limits. If that man does not lay down his sword, I will slay him.
“He can’t hurt you with a sword, can he? The riders carry swords to kill demons.”
