Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

V ession is right. I'm an idiot.

I pushed off from the stone with my legs as hard as I could, stretching my body out and reaching for the lip of the dome. For an agonizing second, I hung in the air, then slammed down hard on the dome.

My fingers scrabbled against the slick surface, which was warm to the touch. With a grunt, I called on my strength bloodmagick and swung my right leg up as hard as I could. My skin sparkled gold and shone, sigils and lines running up and down my muscles.

The surface was too slick, and my leg slipped hard off the side.

The momentum almost ripped my hands from the dome, but it didn't matter. It was a smooth surface that I couldn't get much grip on.

I fell.

The only thought going through my head as the dome rose above me was how utterly stupid I was. At least the poets in the archives had their words to be immortalized by. What did I have?

Nothing.

No one.

At least the girls in the kitchen would miss me.

FWUMP.

A loud thud exploded near my head and then blinding pain radiated from my scalp, so bad that I forgot for a split second I was free-falling to my death. My arms came up and met rough, hard scales and talons.

What?

The dragon threw me up onto the dome by my hair, flaring its wings as it landed daintily next to me. I put a shaking hand to my head, convinced half of my hair had been ripped off. But no, the same amount of hair glided through my fingers, and I pushed away the fear and pain to focus.

I prayed it was Zariah, and not the other personality, Zion.

"T-thanks. But this isn't a social visit, I'm afraid."

The dragon's head tilted to the side; a promising start.

"A f-friend of mine is in trouble. They're coming now to bring her to you. Please don't kill her. I don't know what to do, but just … just …"

I trailed off, realizing I had no plan and no leverage. Just an entreaty to a fucking dragon because we were … friends?

Friends .

Like M was supposed to be.

Friends were insignificant. Lovers were a lie.

Allies were smart, however.

I supposed if I was going to be selective about my allies—friends—, then a fire-breathing dragon and a bad ass mud girl weren't the worst way to go.

I pulled myself together.

"Handle it how you like. Just please don't kill her. I can figure the rest out, if that works for you. I'm not sure what to give you in trade, but I'm open to suggestions."

Across the dome, a loud clang stole our attention as the hatch was thrown open and Shava pushed through it unceremoniously. She flinched as it slammed shut behind her. Without even looking up to see the dragon or me, she tugged at it furiously, swearing.

I turned back to the dragon. "What do you—"

Zariah let out a stream of flames, forcing me flat on my belly on the dome, his roar so loud my head felt like it would explode.

Right. Stay down. Got it.

He leaped into the air and flew towards Shava, scooping her up in his claws like she was a sheep about to be roasted. He banked hard and came barreling back in my direction at full speed.

Her screams were barely audible over the flapping of his wings.

What the fu—

Zariah grabbed me in his other claw and tucked me hard into his chest, hopefully to conceal me from view rather than squash me like a bug. I couldn't see the landscape pushed hard up against his golden scales like I was, but that was fine. Throwing up on a dragon would probably be frowned upon.

Shava's high-pitched screams rang out through the air, Zariah growling in irritation. The wind whipped around me, but I had no choice but to hang on until he landed.

Eventually, he did just that.

Shava let out a grunt as we were thrown onto the dusty ground, Zariah finally relinquishing his hold on me. As I moved away from the massive dragon, I saw why.

We were on top of a mountain overlooking the vast desert. Off in the distance was the city, a glimmering jewel as the bare sun glinted off the surface of the dome. I marveled again at the feeling of the sun on my skin. It was hot. It was wonderful.

Shava stared open mouthed between me, Zariah, and the massive landscape laid out before her.

I couldn't help it; I grinned. "Surprise?"

I wasn't sure what I expected: perhaps for her to cry in gratitude or relief, or even maybe to fawn over the large, yet seemingly docile, dragon. Perhaps she'd offer herself to me in thanks? It was something the kitchen girls would do.

She screamed like a warrior in battle and lunged for my eyes.

How much damage could a skinny mud girl possibly do?

Zariah snorted with amusement as he watched Shava have a go at me, punching my stomach, cheek, and getting a good shot at my temple before he pulled us apart with his claws.

I spat out blood and glared. Shava kept fighting and writhing like a possessed creature, forcing Zariah to compress his claws around her until all the air squeezed from her lungs.

Shava gasped for air, pounding on Zariah's claws frantically.

"I think she gets the point," I bit out sourly, holding my aching stomach. Gods, she packed a punch worse than B and all of his goonies combined. And she knew where to hit.

Zariah huffed, but opened his claws. Shava spilled out onto the hot sand, jumping to her feet in the blink of an eye.

"You. What have you done? What is this?"

She spun around in a circle, as if expecting an attack.

Irritating, since I was the one currently bleeding.

"Shava, I'd like to introduce you to Zariah." I coughed and gave a grand flourish, but the effect was lost on her as I was still clutching my stomach in pain. She stared at the dragon and me like we were crazy.

And just when she thought things couldn't get weirder, Zariah shifted back into the young prince, albeit naked.

Shava squawked and jumped back.

"Who're you?" she demanded.

Zariah stood straight, a good head shorter than me, but not caring in the slightest he was naked. He ignored Shava in favor of me.

But I stared at her.

"That's the prince," I said dumbly. "You don't know who the prince is?"

Shava shot me a withering look. "Yes, because I've been to court so many times growing up. And lately I've been too busy trying not to die to be introduced to royalty."

Sassy. I liked it.

Zariah tugged on my robe. "I want to make a deal with you," he began.

Oh? Interesting.

"I didn't kill you," he continued. "I didn't kill your friend. Now you need to do something for me," Zariah intoned, his soft, pre-pubescent voice deadly serious.

Well, at least he was asking. He could simply transform into his dragon form and scorch me if I didn't do what he said.

Because you were friends. Friends asked things of each other, not demand. Zariah thinks you are friends.

I cleared my throat. "What do you need?"

Zariah sat down on the edge of the cliff, his skinny legs dangling over the massive lip. Though if he fell, he could just shift and fly away, couldn't he?

"I don't like killing people," he said softly.

His thin shoulders fell, shaking slightly.

"Shit, you're just a kid," Shava peered at him, cautiously going to his side and sitting next to him. One of her thin arms went around his back. Zariah made a desperate crying sound and fell into her embrace.

Tingling raced up my arms and legs, imagining her falling, but I pushed it back. Another flare of emotion went through me, and though I recognized it, it annoyed me. Jealousy implied Shava meant something to me.

"The queen makes you kill people," I clarified, trying to stick to the topic at hand.

Zariah sniffed, his voice muffled by being buried in Shava's chest. Lucky little—

"Anyone she sends up the hatch I'm supposed to just … to just …" Shava squeezed him tightly to her, her breasts bunching together through the hug.

I shook my head.

"What is your suggestion, then?" I asked, attempting to keep things on track.

Zariah's face peeked up from over Shava's shoulder. Shava glared at me, as if I were interrupting something.

"I … the people she sends to me. Most of them smell … off. Except for you. And her." Zariah turned, rudely pointing a thumb at Shava. If Shava cared or even noticed the gesture, she ignored it.

I thought about that. They smelled … off.

The demons? The demons!

"I wonder … if it's related to something I saw a year ago. I haven't been able to shake it. I saw a … monster," I began.

At Shava's quick glance at Zariah and glare in my direction, I rushed to clarify. "Not a dragon. A true … demon, of sorts. It had gray, ashy skin that flaked off, yellow eyes, and fangs."

Shava's jaw dropped. "What—"

"The Fireguards dispatched it," I said.

Zariah frowned. "Were the Fireguards surprised to see such a monster?"

The thoughtful question surprised me, as well as Zariah's foresight to think of it. I stretched my memory, trying to remember.

"No. They weren't shocked to see the demon," I replied, a bit stunned at the realization. I'd been so shocked and alarmed myself that I hadn't realized that not a single Fireguard had blanched at seeing a goddamn demon trying to munch my bones. Or I had noticed it, but hadn't made the connection in my mind. Idiot.

Mistakes like that could kill me in the future.

Buckle down.

"So they know," Shava said resolutely, a tic in her jaw.

"You think the weird-smelling people are these demons?" I clarified.

He leaned over and sniffed me again, eyes narrowing.

I drew back, giving him my own glare.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"I think … we may need to run some experiments," I exclaimed, a smile growing on my face. If there was one thing I enjoyed, it was experimenting.

* * *

Once again, any expectations I had surrounding Shava were shattered. She didn't demand to be taken back to the kingdom like I had thought nor blanch at our rough living. In fact, she seemed rather delighted by the whole thing.

Zariah had a small cave he lived in when it suited him, complete with a nest of scraps and blankets big enough for all of us when he wasn't in his dragon form. He hunted meat for us and provided the flame with which to cook it. All Shava and I needed to do was gather brush and other materials for the fire.

And all the while, I plotted.

"I think we need one of these … odd-smelling people," I announced later that evening as we all took bites from the large roasted bird Zariah had brought back in his jaws.

"You're talking about experimenting on an actual person?" Shava asked, her voice sharp.

I waved a drumstick at her. "If they're going to die anyway, we might as well learn something from them. I thought you hated the Nobles." Shava certainly hadn't held back in her disparaging of her marriage trials and how much she hated everyone on the Seat.

"They are supposed to die anyway," Zariah piped up. "I can bring one here, and we can just …" he trailed off, uncertain.

"Yes, that's it," I agreed, instantly seeing this as the perfect compromise. "Bring them here, and we will feed them and observe them to see if they can turn into this demon the way you can turn into your dragon, or whether it's something else. Nothing untoward. It's better than dying, right?"

Shava wrinkled her nose. "What do you mean, something else?"

I shrugged. "That remains to be seen."

"Very well," Zariah said. "You two will stay here, and I will bring back someone when I can." He hesitated. "I can't disobey a direct order from my mother. Neither can Zion. I'm not sure why. So I might have to wait until she throws someone up without specific orders, like she did with you and Shava."

I blanched, not realizing that my survival had had more to do with dumb luck than my charming personality.

"Right," I managed, taking another bite of the bird just to have something to do.

Zariah dusted himself off, still unabashedly naked. He said he didn't see the point of clothes while we were out here, and that Shava and I had seen it all already. Shava had shrugged, saying most of the boys in the mud quarter ran around naked, anyway.

Clearly, I was outnumbered on this.

"Good luck then," I said.

Shava stood and gave Zariah a hug. The little boy grinned, then took a running leap off the cliff.

My heart stuck in my throat, but the golden dragon rose above us moments later, headed straight for the kingdom.

"He's a good kid," Shava said a few moments later, breaking the silent trance we'd both fallen into. "Why does he refer to himself as Zariah? Isn't his name Zion?"

I shrugged, not really feeling like explaining the intricacies of a split personality.

Her gaze sharpened. "Most boys I know aren't like him. They're self-serving little pricks who would stab you in the back for a moldy piece of bread." Her brow softened. "Zariah isn't like that."

I raised an eyebrow.

"And me?"

Her gaze narrowed. "I don't trust you."

"I don't trust anyone ever," I fired back.

"You're arrogant."

"Intelligent."

"You view people only by what they can do for you, and not as something valuable just as themselves."

I opened my mouth then closed it, not having a comeback. Did I view people that way? It didn't seem unreasonable at all; simply practical.

"All women are—" I'd been about to say weak and silly, but that wasn't true. My mother had been weak, relying on pleasing others for her own survival. Clover was the same way, along with all the kitchen girls who imagined themselves gaining some advantage from having my favor.

As if I favored any of them.

The queen was strong. Shava was strong.

Seeing she'd stumped me, Shava smirked and retreated into the cave, leaving me alone with the dying embers of the fire and the rest of the bird carcass.