Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

I kept my head down for months after that, anxious the queen would realize I wasn't dead and forcing her Fireguards to drag me out of my bed and finish the job.

I couldn't face her again until I was ready, and had learned how to channel the magick in my veins.

I didn't see L again. I wasn't sure why, and didn't seek answers. Perhaps I was afraid to know. I didn't feel guilty; that would be a weakness. But it made my stomach flip uncomfortably thinking that he might have gotten in trouble for helping me.

Oh well. His fault.

I hid in my room and in the archives. The first time B saw me after his beating, his face went white, and neither he nor his cronies troubled me again. I didn't seek Zariah, and I didn't try any more rituals despite furiously sketching out more. I swiped meals from the dining hall, then took them back to my room to be eaten in peace. Everyone preferred it this way.

Months passed before Vession even acknowledged me, his shadow passing by my doorway on his way to his own quarters one night and hovering.

I paused in my scribbles, my quill hovering over the parchment as I held my breath.

"Yes?" I grit out, unable to stand the tension.

A sigh escaped him from the other side of the door, and he kept going.

Tension bled out of my body, exhaustion settling in immediately behind it. The quill fell from my fingers to the desk; the tip blotting black ink over the wooden surface.

My head fell into my hands.

I hated the fear. I hated the unknown. I wasn't living my life the way I wanted to, and it showed. And Vession felt it.

More than anything, I couldn't stand anyone being disappointed in me. I couldn't live knowing someone thought I wasn't living up to my potential.

Hell, I felt it.

I would show him, though. I would show everyone . If I could continue my research but incorporate the healing magick of dragon's blood, no one could stop me.

If the queen was going to kill me upon finding out I still lived, then it didn't matter if it happened ten days from now, or ten years. I couldn't take another month living like this in the shadows, like the rat she was so fond of calling me.

It was decided, then.

I returned to the pattern on the parchment before me, the next stage in my heat-resistance ritual with renewed purpose. If I finished it tonight, I could perform it tomorrow after my studies and chores with the other scribes.

And then I'd reveal myself to the queen, and perhaps pop in to say hello to a certain gold dragon.

A smirk stretched across my lips.

It was a much more dangerous way to live, but so much more fun.

* * *

The first thing I did was sit down for breakfast in the dining hall with the others. Not giving a shit where I sat, I plopped down on the end of the bench on the closest table to me, intent on gathering sausages and a large hunk of sweet bread with syrup poured over the top. I had a big day ahead of me and needed to eat for it.

"What the fuck are you doing? Freaks don't sit here."

I expected B to get in my face almost immediately. That's why I had a plan.

B had grown upward like most of us, but also outward. He was stout and short, and liked literally throwing his weight around. Yet bullies and idiots were all the same: simple, stupid, and they loved attention.

So I ignored B in favor of eating my food. I still needed the energy, especially for what was about to happen next.

"Bastard freak boy! I'm fucking talking to you!"

I smiled. Fucking smiled. Bastard wasn't even an insult. It was simply the truth. How would they all react knowing I was the king's bastard? How would B react if he was face to face with a dragon? The image of B pissing himself in my head gave me a rush.

Infuriated at being ignored, he lunged for me like I knew he would. I didn't hesitate. I had it all planned out in my mind, and had walked through every scenario the night before.

I whirled around with my butter knife and thrust it straight into his right eye.

He screamed like a dying rat and thrashed, falling over backward while clutching his face.

Calmly, I went back to eating.

"Excuse me, may I borrow your knife to cut my sausage?" I asked the Noble boy across from me. His jaw dropped comically and his hands shook as he held out his knife like he was handing it to his executioner.

My smile to him was deadly. "Thank you."

Behind me, B's cronies crowded around him even as Vession appeared out of nowhere like he normally did, taking charge of the situation.

"Do not pull it out!" he snarled. "Let the healers deal with it!"

Addictive, heady euphoria pounded through my veins at B's pathetic whining and cries of pain. I kept eating my breakfast as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After all, no one had given a shit my first night here after B had beat the tar out of my face, had they?

Scraping up the last bits of syrup with my last bite of sausage, I daintily dabbed my lips with my napkin, and tossed it onto my plate, nodding to the Nobles at my table as if we were good friends.

Their white faces I would cherish for the rest of my life.

"See you at dinner, then."

I turned and left. B's pathetic cries were a sweet symphony to accompany my purposeful steps. I stopped by my room and grabbed the empty bucket, stopping by the empty bathhouse and filling it up with water.

Disappointingly, there were no naked girls. Parts of my anatomy that had swelled in anticipation shrunk back down.

This was one part of ‘growing up' that was both irritating and quickly becoming an obsession. But I couldn't deal with it now. Perhaps I'd visit Clover later.

Down in my dark ritual room, I drew out the design on my skin first in ink. The more in depth I went with rituals, the more complex they began. I couldn't find any reason inking a pattern beforehand would hurt me, so why not do it? Anything I could do to mitigate risk and ensure I lived to come out the other side was a good thing.

So I spent a few hours meticulously drawing the sigils and swirls, connecting lines and dots from the first ritual around my ankles and knees up to my thighs and hips, and reaching up towards my ribs.

Eventually, I'd have to summon the courage to mark and cut into my neck and my face, but thankfully, not today.

I marked the last point with a flourish, taking a moment to stand and stretch while the ink on my skin dried. Slowly and carefully, I laid out my rocks in a perfect circle. I could have kept them out between rituals, but I didn't want to risk anyone stumbling into my room and getting curious about what was going on. Plus, the more I practiced making perfect circles, the closer to perfection I would get.

The last stone in the circle laid flat to complete the link, and the ink on my skin had dried.

I grabbed my cloth from the corner and unwrapped the knives, inspecting them. I'd just started research into what results I could get using different blades, or just treating and maintaining them on different days and conditions.

But that wasn't the focus for today.

Satisfied they were all still sharp and clean, I selected one of medium length but superior quality and edge. Settling into the center of the circle, I found a comfortable position sitting down with the first leg stretched out in front of me. My morning stretch routine was proving crucial to not cramping up during rituals, but it would only get harder as they became more complex, and in places of my body that were more difficult and hard to reach.

Bringing the tip of the knife to where my last ritual ended, I took a deep breath in, and upon letting it out, cut deep in my skin.

Blood welled, and I moved carefully in an arc by spinning on my bottom to let it flow on the inside edges of my stones, creating as smooth of an inner circle as I could while keeping my knife in contact with my skin. When the edges finally touched, I relaxed into as comfortable a position as I could, and cut up my body following the lines.

It was slow, painstaking work. Sweat rolled down my body and my muscles shook. After this heat ritual, I should really start a muscle strengthening series. I would need basic improvements to my body and its efficiency in order to achieve higher rituals down the line. The possibilities of the entire field of study were endless and fascinating.

My hand shook as I neared the final swirl.

Easy. Don't fuck up now .

The last line wasn't as clean as I would have liked it, but when I removed the knife from my skin, the raw, bloody lines all over my body flashed gold and silver, sinking into my skin.

My muscles were a mess as I shakily set down the knife and reached for the bucket and scattered the blood circle using only half the water. As the magick gave its last sigh and dissipated, I crumpled to the ground on my back, my eyes closed.

The deep, throbbing ache up under my ribs was a stark warning to not cut corners. The ritual had settled, but my line at the end couldn't be that shaky again; I would be lucky if doing so this time didn't give me a reduced result.

There was one way to find out.

Rolling over onto my stomach, I gathered my materials and cleaned my knives with a fresh cloth dipped into the remaining water pooled on the floor. In short order, I set everything away, hidden for the next time.

I wiped down my skin with my robe and changed back into my clothes.

Once I emerged in the main corridor again, I glanced around to ensure there were no Fireguards or any lingering Nobles nearby. Seeing I was alone, I glanced at the lit torch in the bracket next to me, and grabbed the top of it with my bare hand.

My brain panicked, but I stayed the course and kept my hand directly on the hot embers. One second. Two seconds.

I pulled my hand back. I hadn't even felt heat from it! The unblemished skin on my hand was testament to the fact that the ritual had worked.

Two goals completed so far today.

Two more to go.

Ideally, I'd have a bath before tackling the third goal. Dried blood itched against my skin under my clothes, but there was nothing for it; scribes could only use the bathhouse once a week.

Sneaking in at night could be fun, however.

Perhaps I'd have five goals today. How ambitious!

As I turned the corner, the heavy double doors to the throne room opened, and I pushed my shoulders back and held my chin up. The first Monday of each month, the queen took open entreaties from anyone in the kingdom. Well, I'm sure the ‘anyone' was heavily vetted and only those who would kiss the queen's ass and be grateful for the privilege would get in. Not very generous, but this queen was a snake in the grass. No wonder she rules with an iron fist if the king was truly a mud boy, as I suspected.

My stomach flipped as I drew closer to the open doors. The Fireguards guarding the door noticed me first, their eyes sliding to track my form as their heads and bodies stayed staring straight ahead at perfect attention.

Eyes bulged and widened behind their helmets as they recognized me. I slowed my pace as I paused directly in front of the open doors, turning my head casually as if I were simply interested in seeing what business lay beyond in the receiving hall.

The queen was standing at the end of her dais, one hand held out as she gave her ‘blessing' on the poor man, who looked like he was of one of the trade quarters. Judging by his bright blonde hair and the white apron around his white, I'd guess bread quarter.

And then it happened.

I passed by the open door, my movement catching the queen's eye. I watched her reaction from my peripheral vision, keeping my gaze straight ahead down the corridor.

As if in slow motion, she glanced up from the kowtowing supplicant before her, her hand fluttering over his blonde hair. Silver eyes glanced up at me, her entire body going rigid as she recognized me.

It wasn't part of my plan, but I couldn't help it. I turned my head and met the queen's gaze head on.

Her dismay and horror was a delicious ambrosia coating my tongue and sliding down into my belly to heat me from the inside out. Those pink, pouting lips parted in shock, her outstretched hand curling into a fist and turning her already pale knuckles pure white.

I broke contact first, turning my head back down the hallway and continuing past the doors. The moment I turned around the first corner, I bolted.

A hysterical laugh escaped from my throat.

She was rattled. The queen was rattled, and I'd done it.

Two of three tasks were done.

Only one task left, and it wasn't even lunchtime yet! My stomach rumbled, reminding me I'd done a lot of work so far. I had time, so perhaps I'd stop by the kitchens and see if Clover still fancied me.

I'd never visited her during the day, but after all my successes so far today, I felt invincible. No, perhaps later.

Time for the third and final goal of the day.

The castle had many stone parapets, but only a few of them peeked out beyond the dome and would give me access to the dragon. Understandably, those few spots were heavily guarded, and most people were smart enough to give them a wide berth.

I was smart, but certainly not most people.

The south parapet was a crumbling mess. According to Vession, the king and queen allowed it to fall into disrepair simply because of how often the dragon was there. The stone walkway jutted out just past the dome, but the opening was too small for the dragon to get through. As a result, the dragon simply beat at it or flamed it in frustration until giving up and flying away.

It was the perfect place for me.

Zariah had insisted on me visiting him. I could think of no better way to cement my influence on the queen than by having it reported back to her I had an alliance with her precious dragon.

With proof that my ritual to fend against heat had worked, I was feeling invincible. What couldn't I do?

I climbed the spiral staircases quickly, not even caring as I got out of breath. I emerged onto the stone parapet, the edge of the dome just above me. Crossing under the edge of the dome, I stood on the boundary between where the dome ended and the open sky began. For a moment, I stared at the vast blueness above me.

It was beautiful.

RRRRAAAAWWWWRRRR!

I jumped as the dragon roared and swooped down, casting a massive shadow over my head and lunging straight for me. Getting a bad feeling, I dove back under the dome as a wave of fire passed over my head, singeing a few stray hairs.

I may be resistant to heat, but even I wasn't stupid enough to take a direct blast of dragon fire to the face.

"Zariah! It's me. I'm visiting like you asked."

I poked my head up again, inching just out from the dome, but close enough to dive back if needed.

The dragon shrieked in challenge and lunged at me, fangs and teeth aimed straight for my head.

"Shit!"

I ducked down beneath the safety of the dome; the dragon crashed into the lip and screamed in pain.

Rolling from my back to my stomach, I scuttled even further backwards.

"Zariah! It is me! It's Zephyr! Do you not remember?"

Maybe he didn't remember things in his dragon form that experienced in his human one?

"Zariah! I—"

A burst of fire shot right at the lip, forcing me to throw myself to the side as the wave of heat rolled past me.

Ok. He definitely did not know who I was, or the ‘friends' thing was off the table. Either way, I was done.

Objective three was a failure. Two out of three goals completed was nothing to sneer at, but I felt unsettled as I left the raging dragon behind me and descended the spiral stones steps.