Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

T he dragon had just turned into the prince, but the thing my brain couldn't wrap around was a name .

"Zariah? The prince's name is Zion," I protested. I prided myself on knowing who was who among the Nobles. Knowledge was power, and I snatched up every scrap I could.

So I knew with no doubt that there was no Zariah at court.

But that thought was hard to pursue when the child in front of me blanched, clearly upset as I denied his existence.

Way to go. He could just turn back into a dragon if you piss him off. You can call him king mugwump for all you care.

The boy's eyes watered with tears as he slapped his hands over his face. "I'm not supposed to tell! Momma said!"

Don't upset the dragon boy.

I was still bleeding (likely internal and external), but I found myself forced to scoot across the top of the dome and roughly lay a hand on the small boy's back in comfort . To my shock, he wrapped his little arms around my waist and squeezed hard. His strength would have surprised me if I hadn't just seen him as a fire-breathing beast.

"Hey, there. It's … ok. You don't have to tell me anything," I pushed out awkwardly.

I barely knew how to talk to other people, let alone a crying child. But this was survival.

"Momma said I couldn't tell," he cried into my stomach.

I winced as his fingers pried sharply into my skin; much more sharply than any human fingernails should.

Shit.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. Sorry. Zariah." I gently pried him away from me so he didn't accidentally shred a kidney. Or what was left of it.

I tried to give him a smile. Hopefully, it wasn't merely a pain grimace. I pulled on all of my years of social grooming and manners from my mother and Vession.

"Zariah, it's a pleasure to meet you. I am Zephyr."

Zariah's face lit up like the morning sun, a smile so radiant that my lips couldn't help but twitch upward in response. He reminded me of M.

M the traitor.

My face darkened. I cleared my throat.

"So. You are the dragon. And the prince. What is that like?"

His smile faded, face puckering into the pouting expression I often saw on the younger boys in the dormitory.

His mouth opened, and an odd growling sound came out. The boy frowned and tried again. "Aarrrg … Aaahhh. Ah'm." He coughed. "I'm not the prince. Zion is." He blinked up at me. "Sorry. I haven't used people words in a bit."

Interesting. I had read about individuals with sick minds from traumatic events and they split off their personalities in order to cope and protect themselves. Was this such a case? Was Zariah a personality separate from Zion! How rare and fascinating!

"Who is Zion, then? Can you tell me about him?" I asked politely. The text had said that each personality had to be treated as their own person, after all. So that is what I would do.

His nose wrinkled, arms crossing over his chest.

"He will be the next king. He hates mutton, but that's silly; it's so good! He fears everything. He's a sissy."

Hmm. That certainly sounded like the frightened young prince that barely anyone ever saw, as well as the rumors surrounding him.

Perhaps ‘Zion' was the part of his personality that was under his mother's thumb, and how he had to act in order to play his part with her. ‘Zariah' could be the personality that he felt was his true self, but not safe to show to the queen.

I couldn't imagine what she'd do if her own son dared to speak against her, even one so young.

"I see."

But I didn't. Hurriedly, I racked my brain for something else to say.

The little dragon prince beat me to it.

"I'm not supposed to be a person unless Mother says. I have to go be the dragon again. I like you though. I won't eat you."

How generous.

Keep your sarcastic asshole-ness to yourself .

I kept my face blank.

"That is … appreciated."

He frowned at my injuries, as if only seeing them for the first time. "Do you want help with that?"

What could a child do for me? The hatch was still locked shut, and I was probably still actively dying.

"Come visit me after?" he pleaded even as gold scales burst all over his skin and he grew in front of me, muscles and sinew expanding and growing until the dragon leaned over me, smoke unfurling from its nostrils.

Did it remember the conversation it just had? Was the human boy still inside of this great, hulking beast?

Act normal. Don't lose your shit.

"Of course I will visit you," I pushed out shakily. "Though I'm not sure how. The latch is locked. Is there—"

The rest of my words got cut off as the dragon grabbed me with its claws and pinned me down with one massive arm. With the other, he slit an angry line down the side of his neck scales, just underneath the hard scales. Dark blue blood welled up through the skin and dripped down on my mouth.

Which he forced down and held open.

Hot, tangy blood dripped into my mouth against my will. Zariah shifted his weight, one claw holding my head down and mouth open, and the other daintily pinched my nose shut.

The message was clear.

Drink it.

Well, I was already mostly dead. What could it hurt? I pushed down my gag reflex and pretended it was warm wine.

It was heavy, but quickly a pleasant, dull numbness spread through my body. My lips twisted in a dopey grin.

The dragon huffed, grabbed me in its claws, and jumped off the edge of the dome.

Someone was screaming.

Oh, right, it was me.

The dome was only a reddish bronze blur beneath me as we skimmed over it; the castle looming ahead. He tucked me up high into his belly with his claws, wings flapping hard and hiding me from view. We breezed past the archives and I caught a glance at workers installing a new pane of glass—this one made from dragonsbane.

Well, at least my little adventure had yielded something positive.

Whumpf.

The southern yard opened up below us, Nobles and primas diving out of the way as Zariah's shadow fell over them. Zariah dropped me with no preamble into a wagon crammed with silks. At the same moment, he breathed fire onto a small flowering tree in the middle of the yard.

It went up like a candle doused in oil.

People screamed and ran, making it difficult for the Fireguards to race forward with bags of sand and buckets of water.

The fire was out in short order, but the distraction had achieved its purpose: no one had noticed me fall from the sky into their midst.

And now I was stuck in a pile of silk bolts taller than I was.

Twisting and writhing, all I did was sink further down into the cart. But I could move my arms and legs. My limbs didn't hurt, and broken bones were set and all in the right places.

Dragon's blood can heal.

I'd have to examine that bombshell later. Time to get out of this wagon.

I wriggled my way to the bottom of the cart, finding the wooden bottom. With two feet on the ground, I pushed myself towards the back of the cart, fighting the nagging feeling of claustrophobia, sucking in air as best I could while the fabric clung to my skin, hot and stifling.

There!

My fingers brushed the back of the cart, and I used the wooden slats to climb up the edge of the cart, finally emerging from the swath of fabrics to pop my head into clean air.

A man stood directly in front of me and the cart, his fine red and purple tunic swaying slightly in the breeze. He stared open-mouthed at the smoking remnants of the tree, completely unaware of the random stowaway sneaking from the depths of his cart.

I climbed out and walked away as casually as I could manage.

But at least I was walking; something I didn't think I'd ever do again as of this morning.

Walking among the Nobles going about their days, I was reluctant to return to the castle immediately. It was bright outside despite the dome overhead; I'd spent so much of my life indoors that I hadn't realized how much … brighter the world outside was. The warmth of the bare sun on my skin on top of the dome was already a treasured memory of mine. And like a drunk with too much wine, I wanted more.

The sea of humanity around me was simultaneously thrilling and nauseating. People pressed against each as they went on their way, and others yelled as they haggled prices and bartered goods. Jewelry, pots, clothing, and food surrounded me. While beautiful, I'd seen it all before. The palace had many fine things, after all. What caught my attention was the chaos and the people.

What I truly wanted to see lay below the Seat in the other quarters: the artisan quarter, the stone quarter, the bread quarter, and, of course, the mud quarter. I wanted to see where these mud boys came from, and I wanted to see how people in the other quarters lived. I hadn't yet met anyone from the stone, bread, or artisan quarters.

They all lived below, down the sheer cliff. Maybe Zariah would help me get down there one day?

The very thought excited me. A friendship with a dragon was quite the feather in my cap, but I hadn't truly appreciated what it meant: freedom!

Yes … this would be a fine alliance, indeed.

"You! Scribe! What are you doing outside the palace?" a Fireguard shouted at me, one I didn't know, and to my embarrassment, I panicked.

And ran.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of course, I would stick out like a sore thumb in my simple apprentice shift and over robe, which looked nothing like the bright, colorful fashions the other Nobles wore. My age alone made me stick out; boys were supposed to be in training, not standing in the market square gawking like a fish out of water.

His shouts faded behind me as I ducked down and used my smaller frame to my advantage, weaving through the crowd and darting towards the palace as fast as I could. The crowd slowed the guard and any others that tried to join him, people moving too slowly or with confusion that ended up impeding him more.

I didn't know any other way into the palace aside from the one I could see: the main entrance. Pushing towards the white marble, I prayed to any gods listening that the Fireguards guarding that entrance would help me out as I bounded up the steps.

"Woah. What are you doing out?" one Fireguard asked as both of them crossed their spears over the door to bar my entrance.

"Exactly! Let me back in!"

They blinked at me, grips on spears loosening as they couldn't deny the logic. I didn't wait for their brains to catch up to their ears. I dove through the spears and nearly did a somersault, hitting the stone floor hard. My body kept propelling itself forward, not willing to give up a scrap of time in case the Fireguards snapped out of it and chased me down.

I gunned it down the long hallway towards the bathing chambers, knowing I could navigate my way back to my dormitories from there, at least.

Behind me I heard the Fireguards chasing run into the ones guarding the doors. Shouts and arguments broke out, but there were no thundering footsteps coming after me. I didn't slow down as I zipped through the bathing chambers, ignoring the yelps and screams from the primas and other young girls who were bathing.

And I might have sneaked a peek here and there, slowing my run just enough to appreciate the round plumpness of a breast here, and the swell of a hip there. The women were still all the same; scared and delicate little creatures who would break and cry at the smallest bit of trouble.

I didn't have the patience for them.

My pace picked up, and I didn't slow it again until I crossed the threshold of my tiny little room.