Chapter Three

Safina Firesblood, Dragon Princess

England–1447

I spied the girls atthe edge of the forest. They were humming a pleasant tune, one I didn't recognize, but I loved music and hoped they'd teach it to me. I'd been searching for company since the crack of dawn, knowing some of the village maidens wandered from their homes to pick berries in the early morn. There were just two of them, which increased my odds of making a good impression; crowds always made me nervous. Mother and I had been living in our new hut for almost two seasons, and I still hadn't made any friends.

I breathed in the dewy summer air. The birds were happily chirping in the pine trees, and the forest creatures scurried to and fro, unbothered by my presence. Auspicious omens, to be sure. On this day, I'd win the trust of mortals and finally find friendship.

I clutched my basket tightly to my chest, quietly circling the bush where the girls had gathered. Already, their frocks and fingers were stained a dark blue as they picked berries from the vines, dropping them into the basket by their feet.

I cleared my throat. "Good morrow."

The girls jumped, nearly knocking over the basket. I remembered their names, Batilda and Breena, sisters with ghostly fair skin and hair as pale as swan's feathers. I envied their soft, silky hair, so very unlike my unruly red curls. Even the tight braids Mother wove couldn't contain the wildness of my hair for long. Curls broke free and tangled like weeds.

I clutched my basket tighter, the wicker crackling as my knuckles whitened. "May I pick berries with you?"

"We were just leaving," said Batilda, the tallest of the two. She grabbed her sister's hand, shooting her a knowing look.

My heart clenched. I'd seen that look before, the flash of unease and suspicion. Winning them over would not be easy. I nodded at their basket, which hardly contained enough berries to make a pie. "But your basket isn't full."

Breena's gray eyes narrowed. "Papa says we are not to speak to you."

"But why?" My voice cracked with emotion. I knew not why their rejection affected me, for it hadn't been the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Because you're a disciple of Lucifer," Batilda said with a sneer, picking up the basket and waving it at me as if she was trying to ward off an evil spirit.

Heat rose in my chest as hurt was replaced with rage. I jutted a foot forward. "I am not." The only deities I worshipped were the Earth Mother, creator of sky, land, and sea, and the Almighty Mother, the first dragon queen and now a powerful goddess. My mother had told me the Earth Mother created the seasons and guarded mortal souls and the Almighty Mother's spirit watched over all hatchlings.

Breena let out a shrill laugh. "Everyone knows you and your mother are witches."

I froze, my spine as rigid as if it were encrusted in ice. Over my seventeen-year lifespan, I'd grown accustomed to the taunts of mortal children, but they went too far when they insulted my mother. I dropped my basket, clenching my hands into fists. "We are not witches," I hissed. "My mother is a great healer."

Batilda shook her head, smirking. "Papa says it is devil's magic."

I tried to repress my rage, even as my bones stretched and my skin crackled. How badly I wanted to burn these mortals to a crisp.

Breena nudged her sister, giggling as she pointed at my face. "Look at her turn red."

"The flames of hell are lapping at her soul," Batilda taunted.

Anger boiled my blood.

Breena picked up a stone and threw it at me. "Leave us be!"

I gasped and ducked in time, but I was not fast enough to dodge the next attack.

"Get thee back, demon!" Batilda shrieked as she pelted me.

I stumbled, overcome by a wave of dizziness. I fell against a tree trunk as a trickle of warmth cascaded down my brow. Tears welled in my eyes when I felt the gash on my skull. It stung, though not as badly as the barbs of their insults.

"Witchy girl!" They pointed, laughing like cackling crows.

When Batilda picked up a larger stone, her eyes gleaming with malice, I knew I was out of options.

I made the change so fast, I had no time to think of my dress, which ripped to shreds, floating to the ground like discarded rags. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, I whipped the branches with my tail, knocking entire pines to the ground.

The girls cowered beneath me, falling to their knees, clutching each other's backs.

"Please don't eat us," Breena cried.

I roared, kicking up the dirt under my talons and knocking down more trees as I swayed to and fro. I wanted to burn them until there was nothing left but their charred ashes, but no matter how cruel humankind had been to dragons, I was no murderer.

I sucked in a puff of air, stoking my deadly dragon fire from deep within my bosom. With a roar, I released the flame, scorching the treetops until the forest was awash with the acrid smoke of burning timber.

With a shrill cry, Batilda pulled her sister away. They raced through the forest, screaming, "Papa!"

I crushed their basket with the tip of one talon, sticky berry juice splattering the forest floor. After their shrill screaming faded in the distance, I sat back on my hindquarters and contemplated what I'd done. A lump formed in my throat, and my heart sank to the pit of my belly. I'd exposed myself to mortals. My mother would not be pleased.

* * *

Safina

RUN, SAFINA! THEY WILLkill us both!

Mother"s high-pitched cry reverberated through my brain. But keeping pace with the dragon queen"s human legs was tiring. Mother tightened her grip on my hand, relentlessly pulling me through brush and thickets. Branches ripped open my flesh, leaving gaping wounds on my face and arms.

If Mother would let me transform, my thick scales would shield me from the onslaught. Nay, we would burn the trees down and clear an easy escape path, or we could break into dragon form and escape into the heavens.

The forest was damp, sodden with a heavy summer rain. Water clung to my skin, soaking my gown, which stuck to my legs as I fought to keep stride with my mother.

The men"s voices and pounding of hooves grew ever louder.

Angrier.

Closer.

Why couldn"t we fly?

Despite the moonless night, black as pitch, my immortal eyes could see the dense forest was thinning. We were nearing the shoreline.

When we reach the clearing, you must break free with all your might and fly to the heavens!

Although Mother spoke to me in thought, I didn't need to look into her eyes to read her fear. Panic jumped from the dragon queen"s skin and electrified the air.

But Mother! I swallowed a lump of bile. Never had I been so frightened.

Do it!

Fear pumped wildly through my chest, threatening to crush my lungs as I struggled for breath. Would Mother stay and fight the mob, or would she flee with me? Where would I go without my mother? I could not survive on my own.

The trees gave way. The violent sound of waves crashing to the shore thrummed beneath us.

As one we jumped over the precipice of the rocky cliff, hand in hand.

Then wing tip to wing tip; within a blink, we'd transformed. Mother and daughter dragons, our glistening crimson scales blackened to coal under the starless night sky.

Ominous clouds threatened overhead. Murderous horsemen threatened below.

Pushing with all my might, I strained my wings to put more air beneath me. Mother and I rose high above the onslaught of arrows, then higher still. We soared across the sky, the pounding of my heart muted by the powerful thrumming of our flapping wings.

For the first time in many moons, I was free.

I roared my delight.

How long since Mother had let me fly so high? Why had I been tethered so long? Why should we pretend to be mortals when we could soar to the heavens?

A brilliant flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a thunderous clap.

I staggered, tumbled. The force and weight of the thunderbolt threw me off balance.

Mother panicked, but I had no time to register my own fear. I spiraled several times, trying to catch the air with my wings.

I slammed into something, a crack ricocheting through my skull. I shook my dizzy head, realizing I was riding astride my mother.

You are too heavy. Break to human form.

I reluctantly obeyed. Again I was a mortal girl. We soared higher, above the din of the storm, up to where I could see the stars and the full moon in all their brilliance.

I was envious when moonlight lit my mother"s scales in myriad hues of fire. I wanted to be a dragon, not ride astride one. I struggled to stand so I could jump from my mother and fly, but pain shot up my arm like a rush of venom when I leaned my weight on one side. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out.

My mother roared.

My heart twisted and ached. I knew Mother shared my pain, too. 'Twas part of our connection.

Tears streamed down my face. Not tears of pain in the mortal sense, but tears of regret.

I had so longed to fly.

Resigning myself to sit in the space between Mother"s powerful wings, I cradled my arm in silence, waiting for the tears to subside.

The cool night wind sent a shiver down my spine as the icy current from Mother"s flapping wings numbed my human flesh.

I didn't balk.

Lifting my chin, I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with a cold rush of air. How I relished the feel of freedom.

If only my life could be like this always.

Where will we go, Mother?

Even through my thoughts, I heard Mother"s heavy sigh. The dragon queen was angry. I had broken my mother"s trust and had almost cost us our lives.

Across the ocean, Mother answered flatly.

Far away from mortals?I hoped never again to see another human.

We will never escape the mortal world. For now, we can only hope to escape these men.

I swallowed hard as I recalled the murderous looks in the villagers" eyes. Some had carried torches and clubs. Others were armed with arrows and swords. Why were mortals cruel and indifferent to dragons? Our race had never sought to harm humankind. Perhaps Mother would find a new village without hateful humans and a murderous mob.

Perhaps we will find humans who like dragons.

Nay, child!

The dragon queen"s tone turned shrill, urgent. Humans and dragons can never be friends. Her tone softened, saddened. Mortals can never like what they fear.