CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

I practice my "pull" power a few more times. Since I already worked out most of the logistics of my magic while learning to "push," it doesn't take as long to learn. I should probably come up with cool, fancy sounding names for all of this, but, nah. This is one thing you learn after a bit when writing games. When you start out, you name everything something like "triple-level attracting power" and end up with a bunch of phrases players can't remember. Sometimes simple is better. "Push" and "pull" describe what I do perfectly. Why make it any more complex than that? After all, Hulk goes "smash," and you know exactly what he's up to.

The best thing about practice is the way Krivoth looks at me, his dark eyes gleaming with pride. A part of me keeps worrying that, as I learn more about my magic, I'm going to hit that point where he stops liking it and starts to get weird about me being more powerful. But if anything, it's the opposite. The more I can do, the happier he gets. He truly believes in me and respects me.

I effing love it.

Rolling around on the ground on top of him is another nice perk. I only wish the tent would magically appear around us, leaving us on the furs and tucked away from an audience.

As soon as we land for the fifth time, I call a halt. "I think that's good." The furs are soft, but it can't be that soft to keep hitting them, and he's still injured.

I roll off Krivoth, and he goes to erect the tent just inside the woods to hide it from easy view.

Now that I have a better idea of how my pull power feels, I try one last thing, lifting my hand and calling my magic to me. It springs to immediate life, filling me until I feel ready to burst. I lift my hand and strain toward the pinecone… nothing. I let out a pulse of push, blasting the pinecone to bits and tearing out a divot of the grass.

"Interesting," I whisper and go over to drop the wide "plate" of grass back into place, tamping it down with my foot. So push just blasts a big bolt of power at a location. I'm not hitting the pinecone, really—I'm hitting the whole area. Pull seems to need something I can latch on to in order to work.

I reach upward and give a good stretch, bowing backward. Night's fallen with the true dark of a moonless sky, the deep purple decorated with tiny, flickering stars. The small blue dots of pixies flit through the trees, but none come close. I really wish the sprites hadn't run them off.

Mist walks over to lean against my thigh. "I suppose that's the end of my amusement for the evening."

I scratch around her ears, amazed all over again at how incredibly soft her long fur feels. She purrs, the sound humming through me and making me yawn.

"Is your orc going to keep you up again all night?" she teases.

"God, I hope so."

Her choppy, purring laugh makes me smile.

"Goddess save me, no," Storm grumps from a few feet away. He lifts his head from where he's been cropping the grass, his white coat and horn gleaming even in the low light. "I don't need to hear it, and we have a long day tomorrow. If we're able to leave early, we'll reach our destination."

"You're right. I want to reach the Skular Woods tomorrow," Krivoth says, coming over from where he set up the tent. "We'll all have an early night."

As excited as I am about finally finding the violet trifolia, a niggle of disappointment runs through me. Sure, I'm kinda tired and sore, but also I'd never say no to more of last night's pleasure. But I get it. Krivoth's a warrior on a quest that's gonna help a lot of people. I actually like that he's all noble and stuff.

When he leads me into the tent, he wraps me in his arms and furs. The warmth of him sinks into me, making my whole body heavy. I guess I'm even more tired than I thought—a yawn stretches my jaw, and I can't keep my eyes open.

The last thing I know is Krivoth's lips whispering over my cheek in a kiss as he says, "Sleep well, my bride."

I'm not a morning person, but the thought of completing our quest wakes me as early as the others. And thank god I did, because as soon as I step into the meadow and squint up into the morning-pink sky, a huge gold dragon flies overhead!

Even though the exact scale of it is hard to judge from a distance, it looks like it's the size of an effing bus. Its wings stretch wide to either side, as big as the sails of a large pirate ship. It's got a long, sinuous neck and tail, and it flies with all four legs tucked up against its wide body.

That long neck coils around until the head looks right at us. With a sharp snap of its wings, it turns and dives.

"Holy shit," I breathe.

"Bah," Mist says, "they're not that great. They're not cats."

"You're certain the dragons gave us leave to be here, orc?" Storm says.

"I am."

It settles onto the ground several yards away with a thump and a downdraft that blows my hair back and flattens the tall grass. It takes several steps forward until it looms over us, its spread wings blotting out the view of anything but it. It's effing massive.

And amazing! I never thought I'd see a real dragon!

"You trespass on dragon land," a deep alto booms.

Oh my god, she talks! I mean, on some level, I knew dragons are a kind of fae, but still.

Krivoth steps forward, showing not an ounce of fear, his shoulders back, his head high. "I am here by order of King Aldronn, who received permission from Sheevora the Magnificent to travel to the Skular Woods to obtain samples of the violet trifolia."

"Ah, you're one of those orcs." The great wings fold inward to lie against her back. "Well, it's good that you're here. Anything that helps defeat the sluagh is a boon. The soul stealers grow too brave and trespass on our territory."

"Can't you do something about them?" I blurt.

The dragon pivots her head, one golden eye focusing on me, its vertical pupil opening into a black oval. "You question me, a dragon? What even are you? You're no elf."

"I'm a human." I bite down a nervous giggle. Is my whole life in Alarria going to be defined by not being—or almost being—an elf?

"She's a witch." Krivoth steps to my side and rests a hand on my shoulder. "And human witches also took part in the agreement with Sheevora the Magnificent."

"In that case, no, the sluagh are not easy for dragons to deal with. When they're in their bird-flock form, each body is very tiny, and they hide in the trees. Since we have little desire to torch an entire forest, there's not much we can do unless we catch them in midair."

Huh. Someone else has trouble with dealing with small things. Glad I'm not alone.

But also, these dragons breathe fire! How cool is that?

"The sluagh also can't hurt dragons," Mist says. "So why should they expend any effort?"

"Mist," I hiss out the corner of my mouth. "Don't upset the huge fire-breathing dragon."

The cat sith curls her tail around her front feet and smiles like she doesn't have a care in the world.

"The cat doesn't bother me because she does not speak the whole truth," the dragon says in a dismissive tone. "It's true that dragons are superior beings, and the sluagh cannot peck through our scales to eat our souls. Yet their vile deathsleep concoction can still render us unconscious for a century. It's why dragons worked so hard to discover the violet trifolia antidote."

"Can you tell us where it is?" Krivoth pulls a map from a saddlebag and spreads it out on the ground between all of us. "I know only the general area, and your aid would be greatly appreciated."

"Hmm." It emerges as a deep thrum from her large chest. She squints at the rectangular parchment. "Your paper is tiny. It's hard to say."

Dammit. My shoulders droop. That would have been so great.

"Do you have quill and ink?"

"I do." Krivoth brings both to her.

She reaches out with sharp talons and flips the map over to show its blank side. Then those same claws close around the quill with an agility I wouldn't expect for a creature so large, and she sketches with quick, sure strokes. A new map forms, one that's a blown up section.

"This is the meadow we're in now." She adds a dot to the edge of her drawing, and I bite back a giggle at the thought of a dragon making us a "you are here" mark. She drags her talon tip across the paper. "You'll pass through more woods and one river." The curving line of it snakes along the map. "Finally, you'll come to a mountain rowan grove. It is here you'll find the violet trifolia." Her claw stops on another dot.

"Thank you," Krivoth dips his head. "May we know your name so I can report your assistance to my king?"

"What care I for orc kings?"

A muscle jumps in Krivoth's jaw, and the lines of his body go tight with tension. His voice emerges as a snarl. "Then we'll be on our way, because I'm happy to complete this quest in service of King Aldronn."

I've never seen him so angry. It must have been hard for him to keep his words as polite as he did. I guess what I said to Mist is true—it's not a good idea to piss off a dragon.

It's Mist who breaks the tension by sauntering in front of the dragon as if she couldn't care less that the massive fae looms over her. "Bah, dragons. Always so conceited."

"I could say the same for you, cat."

"It's not conceit when you're as amazing as I am." Mist flashes her Cheshire-Cat smile at the dragon and blinks out of view right as a huge paw swipes toward her. It doesn't connect.

"Wait," I say. "If Mist's invisible, why didn't that touch her?"

"She isn't invisible," Storm says. "She's walking the shadow roads."

"I've wasted enough time. I must continue my patrol." The dragon spreads her wings. "Know this. The soul stealers have been seen in the area."

With that, she launches into the air in a great leap, her golden wings snapping down with a loud whomp. Wind knocks me backward, and only Krivoth's quick save keeps me from falling. She flaps her wings again, each beat carrying her far higher than expected for such a heavy beast. Magic hums through the air, surrounding her with an aura of amazing power.

"Thank you!" I call after her.

"Do not thank her," Krivoth growls. "She insulted my king."

"No, I think she insulted all orcs," Storm says.

Krivoth glares at him, and the unicorn gives a neighing laugh that almost knocks me off my feet—this time in surprise.

"I didn't know you could laugh!"

"Of course I can." He snorts. "I simply have discerning taste in what I find amusing."

"No matter what she said, the dragon did help us." I lean over, pick up the map, and wave it to get their attention. "So what are we waiting for?"

"What indeed?" Krivoth plucks me from the ground, grinning as he places me in the saddle. "We have a quest to complete."

"That's what I've been saying for days," Storm says, breaking into a canter as soon as Krivoth mounts behind me.

I let out a whoop, excitement thrumming through me as I rock back into the security of Krivoth's arms.