4. Return of the Thief

"Iknow it hurts," I say to the dragon, feeling her pain deep in my bones. "But try to endure a little more."

Gregory's face is grim as he works. The mage looks like he's going to pass out. Stubborn, he insists he's all right, but we both know he should conserve his strength right now.

He turns his head, coughing violently.

"Gregory," I begin, "maybe?—"

"Don't say it," he growls once he catches his breath. "I'm fine."

I swallow my words, knowing his pride won't accept them. But I'm worried.

The others have been gone for hours. Hopefully, that's a good sign. Where that tight, twisting tunnel led them, I can't even guess. Outside, I hope.

Overhead, the crescent-shaped fissure in the rock glows, the light doing its best to infiltrate our space. But we're too far down.

With Soleil gone, we're relying on charms right now. They're dim, but it's not like there's much to see anyway.

The dragon roars as Gregory breaks an improperly healed bone in her wing so he can set it correctly. It's the third time he's done the procedure, and he has two more to go. She'll never fly again if he's not successful.

The dragon's energy sparks around us, crackling in the air. Any minute now, she could kill us by accident.

I stroke her side, murmuring comforting words, thankful she understands we're trying to help. With any other animal, this would be impossible. With any other dragon, it might be as well. But this female voltaic is gentle, so unlike her mate.

She pushes past her pain and sends me an image of her flying high above the island, cutting through the misty clouds.

"Soon," I promise.

Gregory slumps on the ground, breathing hard. "It's set."

"Lie down for a while," I urge.

"I can't sleep with the monsters banging on the rocks," he grumbles, staggering to his feet and walking to his place by the fire pit. But there's no fire now. It sputtered out when Soleil left.

My exhausted brain dwells on the pretty mage, jealousy making an appearance yet again. She's resourceful, skilled. Loyal. All traits I admire. I should have paid more attention to her when I had the chance.

But I don't really want Soleil. Like it or not, my heart has been stolen by a thief who resents me and will probably run again now that I've given her freedom.

I sit near Gregory, self-indulgently allowing my thoughts to fester. I'm not sure how much time passes before a sound near the side of the cavern jolts me from my brooding.

Drawing my sword, I stand, walking toward the narrow opening.

I half expect a mole troll to emerge, but auburn hair appears as Felicity squeezes through the opening, crawling on her forearms and fighting with a fat pack behind her.

"I'm back," she says needlessly, turning around to wrestle with whatever else she's dragging. "The passage eventually leads to the bluewood. We got food and bedrolls from the camp. I shoved an extra pillow and blanket in here for Gregory—Patches said he needs good sleep to keep up his stamina."

I stare at Felicity, dumbfounded.

"Dax came along, too." She gives the strap a yank, revealing a second pack, and then she steps aside so the young mercenary can crawl out of the crevice. "We didn't see any of the monsters, but Patches said he'd watch for a bit before he returned to camp, just in case."

A strange feeling twists in my chest as I look at Felicity. She didn't abandon me and run to the surface. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had, not in these circumstances.

She drags her packs to the sleeping fire and kneels next to them. As she pulls out supplies, I shake myself out of my stupor and help, taking the blanket and bedroll she offers.

"Why don't you get Gregory settled first?" she suggests. "I'll make some porridge and tea. We could all use something hot, I think. We'll have to share a cup, though. I could only fit one in here."

I clear my throat. "How are you going to do that? We don't have a fire."

"We gathered wood on the way." Dax drops a bundle of kindling on the ground and then proceeds to stack small, dry sticks in Soleil's fire pit.

"Patches sent an extra kettle and pot," Felicity adds. "We don't have a grate, but a few rocks will work. I can cook and boil drinking water."

Nodding, I walk to Gregory and lay out his bedroll. Half asleep even though he said he wouldn't be able to rest with the noise, the mage accepts the help, groaning when he lies down.

"How are you feeling?" I ask Dax when I return to the fire.

"I'm fine." The young mercenary creates sparks with a flint and knife, and soon, a baby fire consumes the kindling he's strategically placed under the sticks. "Better now that Patches isn't hovering over me."

I laugh a little, suddenly overwhelmed. Slowly, I lower myself to the ground. My throat becomes thick as emotion floods me. This morning, I thought I led my family and friends to their deaths. Now we have tea, food, warm bedding, and a way out of this pit. We haven't figured out how to save the dragon yet, but things don't look as hopeless now.

I clear my throat to control myself, knowing I must stay composed for the sake of the others.

Felicity glances over, her expression shielded. Silently, she pulls a blanket from one of the packs and drapes it over me. Before she returns to her task, I catch her arm and look up at her. "Thank you for coming back."

She swallows, my gratitude making her edgy, and then nods. "Let me go so I can cook."

I release her, and she continues her tasks.

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"Wilder is recouping at camp. Lukas and Soleil are headed to the surface to look for the dragon's mate. Lukas is hoping he can hoist the female out. Something about ropes and harnesses."

It's not a bad idea, but it's dangerous, especially when Lukas isn't as skilled at communicating with the animals as I am.

"Did they take Flink with them?" I ask.

"I think that was the plan. Soleil was sleeping when we left." She hands me a few pieces of dried fish. "Start with this."

I turn, prepared to offer one to Gregory, but our ship's mage is already snoring softly.

"How much did you bring?" I ask.

"As much as I could fit into the pack with the bedding."

Nodding, I stand, crossing the space.

"It's not much." I offer the dragon the dried fish. It's barely a morsel for her, but it's better than nothing.

She huffs to show her displeasure, her nostrils lighting with sparks of white energy.

"I know you don't feel well." I stroke her side. "But try to eat it."

She finally accepts the fish, sharing her revulsion with me as she chokes it down. I see her diving toward the sea, snatching large fish in her talons and then flying back to the island. I understand what she's telling me—food should be fresh.

"No one likes it," I say. "But it's better than dying. We'll get you out of here, and you'll have a proper meal soon."

I return to the fire, sitting on the ground next to Felicity. Dax walks the cave"s perimeter, looking for an exit we might have missed.

Felicity looks less than impressed as she hands me another strip of dried fish. "If you want to take care of others, you must first recover your own strength."

"Is that something you put into practice yourself?" I ask wryly.

Her mouth flattens into a thin line, and then she says, "Eat the fish, Davyn."

I do as she commands this time, going slowly to give my stomach a chance to adjust.

Felicity focuses on her tasks. "Have you ever gone this long without eating?"

"Not this long, no."

"What will you do if we can't get the dragon to the surface?"

It's a blunt question, but Felicity is nothing if not direct. She turns her head to look at me, waiting for an answer.

"We're going to save her."

She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her eyes. And yet, she's here.

"Thank you," I say.

"For what?"

"Coming back."

She turns away, busying herself. After a few quiet seconds, she says, "It's nice to take care of you for once."

"You already have the burden of your family, but you're happy to add me as well?"

"My family isn't a burden." She spoons oats into the small pot. "And you wouldn't understand—because you're a Greybrow, and you've never been destitute, starving, or pitiable—but it feels good to have something to offer for once. It makes me feel like a person and not a charity case."

"You've always been a person to me, Felicity."

"You said you pitied me." She narrows her eyes. "When you proposed."

"I worded it badly. I was trying to explain why it was a sound decision even though we weren't in love."

"I loved you."

Her words startle me so completely, my brain goes blank.

She laughs darkly. "Don't panic. I don't anymore. You cured me of the infatuation."

"We were friends."

"You were the captain's son—respected and so handsome. You offered me companionship when I was alone and broken. What did you expect? Of course I fell for you."

I'm reeling, barely able to form a coherent thought. "Then…why did you leave?"

"You hurt my feelings," she says with a dark laugh. "I was a girl, Davyn. Life had shaken me, but it hadn't yet turned my heart to stone."

"Is your heart stone now?"

She stares at the flames as she waits for the water to boil. "I'm not even sure I have one anymore."

I genuinely didn't know. Felicity wasn't as obvious about her affection as Soleil, whose young love shone in her eyes. And now…now my chest feels tight, and regret winds like a snake in my gut. Would I have approached our relationship differently if I'd been aware? Would I have treated her with more care?

Would I have kissed her?

The thought lodges in my brain as she leans forward and checks the kettle to see if the water is warming. My gaze settles on her mouth as my mind flies at a rapid pace, my eyes tracing the lines of her dusky pink lips.

I imagine what we could have been like—young and happy, lovers instead of friends. Holding hands and walking through foreign markets, finding private nooks aboard the ship to spend time alone. We'd likely be married now.

The emerald ring on her finger would mean something.

"Why would you propose to a girl you didn't love anyway?" Felicity stirs the oats, looking desperate to avoid eye contact. "Didn't you realize you'd be stuck with me for the rest of your life? Didn't you want to find love?"

"You saw my parents. They don't just love each other—they like each other. It didn't seem like a bad idea to marry my friend. I enjoyed your company. And I liked the idea of being your champion. I'm sorry if that bothers you, but it's true. I wanted to be the one to rescue you. I wanted…"

I stop short, seeing something now I hadn't realized then. I was desperate for Felicity's affection, her gratitude. I think back to seeing her again in Kervis Elevra—how she stopped me in my tracks. My chest squeezed, and everything faded into the background but the woman I proposed to years ago.

I think of the ring in my nightstand drawer, the way I'd take it out and study it every so often.

And I think of my irritation when she abandoned me again, followed by my elation when I found her in the cave.

"You're thinking hard about something," she says mildly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. It was never my intention."

She shrugs as if it doesn't matter anymore—as if she'll never trust me with her heart again anyway, so the apology means little now. Water under a broken bridge.

"I'd like to start over," I add.

She scoffs at the idea. "We have too much history for that. And if you'll remember, I'm currently your prisoner."

"Gregory released you."

"That doesn't mean you won't lock me in the brig when you get the chance."

"Promise me you won't steal the journal, and you'll be my prisoner no longer."

She laughs bitterly. "I need it as much as you. That's a promise I can't make."

"You don't need it—trust me to free you from Martin."

"I can't do that."

"Why?"

"The water is hot." She spoons tea into a tin cup. "I hope Gregory and Dax don't take theirs with sugar. I didn't bring any."

"What about me?"

"You don't like sugar in your tea."

"You remember that, but you won't trust me?"

"If life has taught me anything, it's that you must face your own problems. People, even well-intentioned ones, let you down."

"Fine. Then let me face them with you—as a team. We'll do it together."

"If you deliver the journal to King Marcelo, Prince Martin won't release my family or me. But if I give the journal to Martin, there's an excellent chance he'll work with King Marcelo to free your cousin anyway. He wants to marry her, doesn't he? If you want to help me, give me the journal after we find it."

"Cassandra Marie can't marry Martin." I stare at the tea leaves as they swirl in my cup. "She doesn't care for him, and I need her to marry a Kalaen man."

"You need her to?"

"If she marries Martin, their children will be Shaladan citizens, and her father's dukedom will eventually pass to me."

"You're in line to inherit the governing seat of Reginae?" she asks incredulously. "You never mentioned it."

"I like to pretend it's not looming. But the noose is snug around my neck these days."

"Reginae is landlocked." She looks appropriately horrified—maybe the first person who has. Her voice drops to a whisper. "You'd have to leave the Serpent."

Now that the tea leaves have settled, I take a cautious sip of the steaming liquid.

"What makes you so confident you can buy my contract from Martin?" she asks after several silent seconds.

"I must offer him something he wants more than you. I will find that thing Martin wants, figure out how to give it to him, and offer it as a trade."

"What if you can't obtain it?" Felicity finally looks at me, her eyes searching mine.

"I'm willing to go to the ends of the earth to win back your freedom."

I wish I could read her like Lukas does, wish I could see into her head and figure out what she's feeling.

She rips her eyes away. "The porridge is ready."

It's a dismissal, her way of telling me she doesn't believe me, and the conversation is over.

I sigh, disappointed. I'm afraid it's going to take longer to heal Felicity than the dragon.