Chapter 17

CHAPTER17

Opal flew back to the waterfall cave, but of course Tristan was already gone. If Opal knew anything about Tristan, he’d have made his way to the cave with the magical sword in it.

Hopefully Tristan wouldn’t attack him on sight.

When he went to track Tristan, though, he realized there was a fresher trail, leading back down the mountain. Maybe Tristan had gotten his sword and was returning now? Opal could smell the horse—and saw its manure on the trail—but there was another scent that lingered, too. A little too sweet, a little unnatural.

Opal hoped the sword hadn’t done something weird to Tristan.

He followed the new trail down the mountain, tempted to transform into a dragon once more in order to speed up the process. He didn’t want to risk flying over Tristan and missing him, though.

At least he could walk with his horns out now. No more constant itching.

“I’m sorry I deceived you,” Opal said to the empty air. “It was wrong of me. However…”

Hmm. Was that the best way to start things?

“I shouldn’t have lied. But I also didn’t try that hard to hide myself. You did kind of ignore all the warning signs.”

No, that was definitely not the right track. He could already see Tristan getting angry all over again, even if Opal was a little right. Alabaster and Sapphire had both boggled at Tristan’s ability to not notice that Opal was double-endowed.

“In my defense, you could have tried a reach-around at any point and found out much quicker.”

Yeah, and then Tristan would have freaked out, and he’d probably have ventured off on his own, and Opal wouldn’t have been able to rescue him from a swamp demon.

“You’d be dead without me.”

That one was true, but also unlikely to make Tristan agree to stop being a dummy.

Opal sighed and stepped around a muddy spot on the trail. None of this was going to solve anything. He’d flown off from Alabaster’s den with full confidence, but short of pulling a Jade and convincing Tristan with a lot of sex, Opal wasn’t sure what to do.

Talk to him, Sapphire had said.

Well, what if talking didn’t work? Talking never worked in the stories Opal read. It was always grand gestures! Songs and presents and dashing rescues, and Alabaster had refused to play the evil dragon for him.

Opal was still mulling over his next course of action when the trail opened up to the clearing they’d murdered the wyvern in. He could smell its blood clinging to the rocks.

More importantly though, he saw Tristan sitting on the ground up against the cliff. The magical sword lay across his lap, gleaming with power.

“Tristan!” Opal shouted, unable to contain his smile. “I found you.”

Tristan’s head jerked up. “Opal,” Tristan said, getting to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

That didn’t sound promising, but Opal couldn’t lose hope. “I think… we said some things we didn’t mean yesterday,” he said quietly. He took a few faltering steps closer to Tristan, stopping when he noticed Tristan tensing up. “I said things I didn’t mean.” Opal looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “This is new to me. Being in love. I only know what it’s like from the stories. But I want to try again, properly. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll show you that not all dragons are the same, and we can go adventuring to get revenge for your brother, and I’ll help you deal with the awful dragon who killed him even if he has a cool name like Crimson Blaze or Azure Skies, and…”

“You lied to me,” Tristan said, his voice little more than a growl. “The whole time we were together. You knew how I felt, and you lied to me. Do you really think a few words and empty promises will change anything?”

Opal flinched, but he forced himself to look at Tristan. “They aren’t empty promises, Tristan. I do love you. I want to keep you at my side forever. You make my heart flutter and when you aren’t so hard on yourself, I can see the person you truly are, and you’re beautiful and glimmering, a true treasure. My treasure.” He took another step forward. “What do you need from me, that you’ll give me another chance?”

“Another chance?” Tristan laughed, wild and bitter. “Another fucking chance? You took advantage of me, like… like a monster. Like a predator. You drugged me, over and over again!”

“Only a little,” Opal hedged. “I tried to avoid it. Sometimes you were the one to kiss me, and I was so happy, I couldn’t deny you. And you never got any of my semen, which is more potent than my spit. I really, really wanted to kiss you, Tristan, but more than that… I wanted you to want me as I am, without me resorting to my fluids.”

Tristan’s fingers flexed on the handle of the sword. “Well, you did a piss-poor job of that, because I don’t even know who you are anymore,” he said flatly. “I never thought you’d be someone who would lie to me non-fucking-stop, to deceive me, to…” Tristan shook his head, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. “To make me do what you want! In the swamp, when I wasn’t listening to you, you kissed me. You made me give in.”

“I didn’t know how else to get you to listen to me! I didn’t want you to die.” Opal let out a frustrated breath, taking a step closer to Tristan.

Something in the air shimmered, and strong magic came alive so suddenly that Opal couldn’t defend against it. It rippled through him, over him. His body burned, and Opal realized with panic that he was losing grip on his human form.

“No!” Opal backed away and leapt into the air just as he gained his dragon wings. “Tristan! I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

A spell flew at him, and Opal dove to the side just in time to avoid it.

Unfortunately, he dove into another spell, something sticky that pulled at his wings and dragged him down.

Opal roared, but he tamped down on his flame. He couldn’t risk hitting Tristan. Even if it was Tristan who had done this—

But Tristan didn’t have this kind of magic. Tristan didn’t have any magic at all. Which meant…

Opal landed onto the ground with a hard thud, and he scrambled to his feet. There, on the other side of the clearing, was the sorcerer Izar.

“You!” Opal shouted with rage. “Did you do something to him?”

Izar laughed. “Me? I haven’t done anything to Tristan. I simply asked him if he wanted to assist me.”

Opal whipped his head in Tristan’s direction. “What? Tristan! You can’t trust him. He cuts up creatures for parts. That’s… that’s evil.”

“You drugged me!” Tristan shouted, hefting the sword. “He cuts up monsters for parts. You used me, you lied to me, you betrayed me, you made a fucking fool out of me! What does that make you, Opal?”

The pain of those words rushed through Opal, and he faltered enough that Izar’s next spell caught him directly in the side. He barely felt it, though.

Tristan might as well have stabbed Opal through the heart.

“Please,” Opal begged, trying to shake off the effects of Izar’s spell. His wings felt too heavy and sticky for him to fly, and the clearing wasn’t nearly so large now that he was in his dragon form. “Tristan, I’m sorry. I just wanted to be with you. I love you!”

Izar laughed cruelly and sent out another spell. “What do you know of love, beast?”

Opal tried to dodge, but he would have crashed into Tristan if he went at full speed. In the end, the spell landed on his tail, which became a heavy, dead weight, just like his wings.

Fuck.

Opal would be able to fight off the sorcerer if he could use his full strength. He eyed Tristan again, who was far enough away from Izar that Opal could safely use his flame.

Opal opened his mouth to send fire rushing straight at Izar.

But Izar clutched his necklaces, and something happened to divert the flame away from Izar… and straight at Tristan.

“No!” Opal launched himself forward to put his body between the flame and Tristan. His tail and wings dragged, and it was getting harder and harder to move, but he couldn’t let any harm come to Tristan.

“What the fuck, Izar?” Tristan snarled. “You could’ve killed me!”

“What a stupid, stupid monster,” Izar said, raising one of his necklaces higher. “Mindless like all the others. I’ll enjoy taking you apart.”

Another spell hurtled straight at Opal.

Opal needed to dodge. He had to get out of here, shake off the effects of the spells on him.

But if he moved, it would be Tristan who got hit by this.

So Opal braced himself, and cried out when a sudden shock coursed through his body.

He collapsed when it was over, panting hard. Whatever spell had trapped his wings and tail now extended down to his limbs.

He couldn’t move at all.

Izar adjusted his glasses, smirking. “You did make it quite easy for me.”

He approached Opal, and try as he might, Opal couldn’t snap his head forward to sink his teeth into Izar.

Izar stopped just out of reach and turned to Tristan. “The sword, please. Unless you’d like to do the honor of removing his horns.”

Tristan hesitated, and Opal’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe Tristan would save him after all. Maybe Tristan wouldn’t do such a horrible thing. Maybe…

“Why should I give you the sword when you nearly killed me not even five minutes ago?” Tristan demanded.

Izar rolled his eyes. “Nearly killed you? What are you on about?” He made an exasperated noise and stalked over to Tristan. “Either do it yourself or let me handle it if you’re too squeamish.”

Tristan stared at Izar, but he took a step back. His deep brown eyes flicked between Izar and Opal in obvious indecision.

Opal had thought Tristan loved him, too. How could he even consider cutting off his horns? How could he just stand by and let Izar take him apart? He keened, heartbroken. Maybe it would be better for them to plunge the sword through his heart.

It was already broken anyway.

Tristan took a step toward Opal, staring directly into his eyes. Tristan’s eyes were so dark, so cold, and so unfamiliar.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d looked that way every time he’d vented about dragons. Opal had been so sure that love would conquer all, just like it did in the stories.

He’d been wrong.

Maybe now he understood why Jade had destroyed an entire city when he’d lost his own treasure.

“Please, Tristan,” Opal begged. He tried to lift his head, but the magic kept it flat against the ground. “Don’t do this. If not for me, think of… think of the people of Phassis. Whatever he needs dragon horns for, it can’t be good.”

Izar’s lips curled into a snarl. “Shut up, beast. What I use the horns for is my own business.”

“And I’m not a noble knight, here to save the fucking kingdom,” Tristan snapped. “You keep thinking I’m something different than what I am, something better, and you’re wrong.”

Izar turned to Tristan with impatience. “Are you going to do it or not?”

Tristan muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath, but he took a step closer. He didn’t meet Opal’s eyes as he swung the sword straight through one of Opal’s horns.

Pain like he’d never felt before shot through Opal. What should have been impossible, or taken hours of sawing, happened in an instant. The horn broke and fell to the ground, blood gushing out.

It covered Opal’s head and snout, drenching him. Opal barely noticed. He howled in pain, tears filling his eyes and joining the blood.

The entire world was hazy now, and Opal could barely breathe.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

It hurt, knowing that Tristan hated him to the point where he would take Opal apart.

Izar picked up the horn, which was as long as his forearm. “Perfect,” he said. His smile widened as he stroked the bloody horn. “Do you know how much magic is inside just this?”

Tristan shook his head mutely, taking a step back as blood dripped from his sword.

“Very well.” Izar looked at Opal again. “Let’s finish the job. There is so much magic inside this thing. Its other horn, scales, eyes, bones, and claws could all power spells for years.”

Opal let out another pathetic whine and closed his eyes.

This was the end, then. The part of the story where the dragon was slain and the hero could go off into the sunset, having rid the land of another threat.

Another monster.

It would have been nice if just this once, the story went in Opal’s favor instead.