Page 8 of I Dream of Dragons
The humans murmur among themselves, nobody making a move toward the barge. Who in their right mind would walk to their own death?
But of course, Jai starts toward the boat, because he’s crazy.
“Don’t forget that I’m not the one throwing myself recklessly at danger. That would be him.”
Jai tends to throw himself at danger. I saw it when on that barge in the river, when he rode his drak into the whirlpool to save us all. And later, when he entered the games for me.
Why does this have to be so complicated?
I follow him, my feet moving before my rational mind catches on. But after all, what other option is there? More guards close in around us, spears lowered. They use them to herd us toward the barge, pushing and prodding those of us who resist.
Staying here isn’t an option. This conscription isn’t voluntary. It never was. The few days we spent at the Sea Palace got us to relax, made some of us feel as if we have choices, perhaps.
An illusion.
“Stop poking me. I’m going!” I hear a familiar voice, and see Amaryll glowering at one of the guards as she marches toward the barge. “See? We’re all going. As if we can avoid it. Assholes.”
I choke down a laugh, and it feels like broken glass in my throat.
She’s fierce and funny, and I don’t want her to die. I don’t want Mera or Axwick to die, either. I want to stop the killing.
I want to keep Jai safe.
Sigh.
Again, I’ve let myself grow attached to other people. When did that happen? When will I learn my lesson?
Jai has reached the plankway, but now he pauses and glances over a broad shoulder, his gaze finding me unerringly, sending another bolt of heat through me. “Coming,makhair?”
That nickname… I itch to find out what it means, but when he reaches a hand out to me, I refuse to take it.
I walk past him and he watches as I climb onto the plank. His hand is still outstretched. “We have to talk, you and I.”
“No,” I say, “right now we don’t.”
He gives a nod. “After the trial.”
“Move along! Skies and stones, you two really think you’ll make it out of here alive?” one of the guards scoffs. “Mighty sure of yourselves, are you?”
“That’s Athdara, you idiot,” the other guard hisses.
“But she’s not.”
Good point. And having my voice and gills back doesn’t guarantee my survival.
Still ignoring Jai’s hand, I step onto the deck, then turn and nod at him.
His dark brows bunch together, eyes narrowing. The blood on his black shirt draws my eye, a darker stain, then the rusty streak mingling with the black swirls on his left cheekbone where he’d wiped his hand.
And a smile tugs on his lips, stretching into a grin. It’s so pure and boyish, that dimple making an appearance, that it snags my eyes, my feelings. “Stubborn,” he says, his voice a low purr, his hand clenching into a fist. “Just promise to let me help you during the trial.”
I make no such promise, though I know I’ll probably need all the help I can get. I need to survive if I’m going to return to the palace and…
And what? You’ll kill the boy you once loved, stab him through the heart?
I shiver. No, I’ll ask for answers first.ThenI’ll stab him through the heart.
Yeah,the voice in my head is glib,sounds plausible… not. You won’t find it in you to go through with it.
