8. A Different Ending

Idon't think the dragon means to share her conversation with me, but it happens naturally when she attempts to speak to Felicity. I lie in my bedroll, trying not to eavesdrop.

Though I slept through Felicity's nightmare and only woke moments ago, the dragon saw the way she thrashed and whimpered in her sleep. I've watched it through the dragon's memory.

Felicity thinks the gentle beast wanted food, but she was offering comfort. And I feel like I've trespassed on their moment.

I look up, peering at the fissure above.

We decided to sleep while the monsters were quiet, but the crevice at the top of the pit is growing dark, and they'll begin beating at the rocks again soon.

When the fissure glows with the morning light tomorrow, we'll begin our third day in this cavern. I think of Gregory's dwindling stamina, along with my responsibility to Felicity, Dax, and the men still camped in the bluewood.

What am I going to do?

My worries circle like hungry vultures, making it impossible to fall asleep again. When my thoughts finally become distant, and I find the peace that comes with pending unconsciousness, the mole trolls begin their incessant racket once more.

Growling under my breath, I sit up. The dragon and Felicity are still asleep. The thief lies against the dragon's side, tucked under the beast's broken wing.

Dax is fully in his bedroll, his face covered—probably to muffle the noise.

Gregory shifts, also disturbed by the monsters. He yawns and then coughs. It's a thick, painful sound that comes from deep in his lungs, and it makes me anxious.

The fire went out while we slept, so I start another. A few minutes later, Dax joins me.

"Did I wake you?" I ask.

The young mercenary isn't much older than our ship boys, but he has a mature presence. He lowers himself to a crouch close to the fire, resting his forearms on his knees. "It was the monsters."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

It's like pulling teeth to get Dax to talk.

"How'd you become a mercenary?" I ask.

"I went to their chapter house in Teirn and requested an apprenticeship."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"They didn't turn you away?"

"Wilder said if I could beat him while sparring, I could stay."

"And you managed it?"

"No, but I did well enough that he took me in anyway."

I want to ask about his parents, but I imagine his story is similar to our ship boys'. He's likely an orphan, or his family was too strapped to feed him any longer.

"Wilder is the head of your entire group?" I ask instead.

"That's right."

"What will you do when he retires to his book shoppe?"

The mercenary shrugs. "I imagine he'll appoint someone to take his place. Patches, probably." He stares into the flames. "Or he'll move the chapter house to Kervis Elevra and oversee things from there."

"He told you he bought a place on the island?"

Dax nods, looking broody.

"Would that be a bad thing?" I prod, sensing he'd like to talk.

"There's a girl in Teirn," he says reluctantly. "We've been courting for about a year now. I doubt her parents would allow me to marry her if they knew I was going to take her to the trade island."

"You could join another group of mercenaries in Teirn."

"Most mercenaries aren't like Wilder."

"Then perhaps you could strike out on your own?"

"Perhaps," he says pensively, his brows drawing low as he mulls over the idea.

"Or you could talk to Sebastian or my parents," I suggest. "Perhaps Thane and Greybrow Scouting has room for a full-time sellsword?"

Intrigued, he looks up.

"I'll put in a good word for you if you'd like," I add.

"You'd vouch for me even though I got myself taken out by a wildcat and missed the fight with the mole trolls?"

"I'll vouch for you because Wilder speaks highly of your skills and character," I say, realizing why he's so sullen. He's annoyed with himself. "And don't worry. I'm sure you'll have a chance to fight something before we leave the island."

Even though my words were spoken lightly, he nods, ever solemn.

Gregory coughs again, and Dax looks over. "That's what Wilder sounded like yesterday when he returned to our tent."

Now that he mentions it, I remember Wilder coughing a few times. I didn't think much of it then, assuming it was the musty air getting to him. "He sounded just like that?"

"That same deep, congested cough." Dax frowns in Gregory's direction. "You don't think they picked up an illness from the monsters, do you?"

Not liking the sound of that, I slowly answer, "It's possible the creatures carry something."

As Shawn mentioned before we found the bluewood, a foreign sickness could spread through the team quickly. A contagious illness is the last thing we need right now.

"There's a ship's mage aboard Lord D'vain's ship, isn't there?" Dax asks. "She tended the lord after the skurmidge attack?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps she can do something for them?"

I nod, falling deep into thought as we stare into the flickering flames. If Gregory is ill, he cannot keep taxing his system. But if he doesn't finish healing the dragon's wing, we'll never get her out of here.

A while later, Dax leaves the fire to pace the perimeter of the cave. Footsteps alert me that Felicity is awake. She settles on the ground next to me, untying the ribbon from her messy hair and attempting to smooth it back into place before she puts it up again.

"Don't," she finally says.

I look at her, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "Don't what?"

"Say anything about…" She jerks her chin toward the still-sleeping dragon.

"I'm just glad you were able to get some rest."

"What about you?" she asks when she finishes fussing with her hair. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Some."

She studies my face, frowning when she doesn't like what she sees. "Are you sure?"

I shrug instead of answering, turning my eyes back to the fire.

"Are all dragons like her?" Felicity asks.

"No. She's softer than most."

"To you, they're not just dragons or even friendly animals. You can talk to them, so they're…almost human?"

"That's a bit what it feels like—especially dragons. Especially this dragon."

"I wouldn't be able to abandon a human to die," she says quietly. "I think I'm beginning to understand your determination."

I turn my head to look at her. "You don't resent me for dragging you into this?"

A rare smile twitches her lips. "I resent you for many things, Davyn, but not necessarily this. I now understand why you were so adamant about finding her." She glances at the sleeping dragon, a shadow falling over her face. "I'm thankful I don't have your gift, though. Life is hard enough with only humans in your head."

I lift my brows. "Do you pity me, Felicity?"

She gives me a wry smile. "It's not the same."

"Isn't it? We tend to empathize the most with the people we care about."

She looks back at the fire. "I know what you're trying to say."

"I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't want to spend my life with you. I need you to know that. I'm not that altruistic."

I expect her to argue, but she only frowns, watching the dancing flames as she contemplates it.

"Our story can have a different ending," I add quietly, rising. Felicity doesn't shy away from my touch when I set my hand on her shoulder. "The dragon just woke up. I'm going to check on her."

I leave her staring into the flames, her expression soft and thoughtful.