23

I've been in dragon form for an hour when I hear someone knock at the outer door of the suite. I'm in my bedroom with the door closed, but I forgot to lock it, because locks are a pesky human concept. If someone enters the sitting room of the suite, they could walk right into my chamber and see me as a dragon.

Grumbling, I shift back to human form and grab my clothes from the bed. I only have time to pull on the pants before someone raps on the bedroom door.

"Prince Gildas." Meridian's voice. "You have a visitor. She insists on seeing you immediately."

A fluttering sensation passes through my chest, the sudden hope that against all reason, the visitor might be Serylla.

Quickly I snatch my shirt and put it on, leaving it unbuttoned. I yank open the door and step into the next room.

Our guest isn't Serylla, but a mild-looking girl with brown hair and the eyes of a frightened doe.

"I am Parma," she says with a small curtsy. "I am the maid to the Princess… the Conquered Consort. "

Caution tightens my nerves. Even though Serylla insists that her maid couldn't be the poisoner, I can't rule out any suspects. Not after what Fortunix did to my clan. There are bruises on Parma's face and arms, which could mean she's being forced to design poisons for Rahzien, even if at heart she's still loyal to Serylla.

"The Princess sent you this." Parma holds out a small box. "She said I was to deliver it directly to you."

"Why would the Conquered Consort send a gift to the Prince of Zairos?" I ask.

"That's not my place to speculate, Your Highness. Please enjoy your gift." She curtsies and makes a quick escape into the hallway.

Meridian closes the door behind her. "That was odd."

I flick the tiny latch on the box and open it. Inside, on red velvet, lies a beautiful golden bracelet. It's among the most marvelously crafted pieces of jewelry I've ever seen, with flat, close-fitting links and a glossy luster. I pick it up, admiring the way the light plays on the gold.

"It's incredible," I murmur.

"The perfect gift for a dragon." Meridian approaches, tilting his head to admire the bracelet. "Your Princess has excellent taste. I'll put it on for you, if you like."

As he's fastening the bracelet around my wrist, someone else knocks at the door of the suite. Without waiting for a reply, a Vohrainian guard enters, accompanied by a young male servant.

"An herbal tonic for the Prince," says the servant, holding out an engraved goblet. "To aid your recovery and give you strength. A gift from the healer, Lady Cathrain."

"So many gifts for the Prince, and none for me." Meridian pouts, sauntering up to the servant. "You'll bring me something, won't you? I could use a drink. Maybe a fine, rich rum. "

I sip the tonic, grimacing at its sour smell and bitter flavor. "Something is wrong with this."

"Does it taste like asshole?" Meridian inquires. "Not a fine, plump, clean asshole, but a crusty, unwashed asshole?"

"I suppose, yes."

"Then it's perfectly fine. Every herbal tonic I've ever taken has tasted like ass. You don't have to drink it."

"The healer requested that he drink it all," the servant pipes up.

I take another swallow, but Meridian snatches the goblet out of my hand. "Lady Cathrain said he was quite healthy. We appreciate her concern, but the tonic is not needed." He dumps the rest into a nearby vase.

"The healer will be most offended when I tell her what you have done," the servant declares haughtily.

"So don't tell her, there's a good fellow," replies Meridian. "I'll give you a kiss if you promise not to say a word."

The servant blushes deeply and beats a hasty retreat. Meridian closes the door behind him and runs a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. "Before all these interruptions, I was coming to speak with you, Ky. I've sent Kehanal and Odrash out of the city on an important errand."

"Of course," I growl. "That's perfectly reasonable. It won't look suspicious at all that Prince Gildas's entire royal retinue has disappeared. First Hinarax and Aeris, and now Odrash and Kehanal."

"Couldn't be helped, mate. I needed two messengers to make this happen. Take heart! You still have me, and I'm worth at least a dozen men." He flashes me an ingratiating smile. When I glare at him, he winces. "No? Come on, you must admit I'm worth at least six."

"Two and a half. Maybe." My mouth twitches in a half-smile in spite of myself .

"There's the smile." Meridian slaps my shoulder. "Trust me, if this plan of mine comes to fruition, our enemies will take themselves out of the fight. We'll barely have to lift a finger—or a claw. Now you best head back into your room and be a dragon a while longer."

"Delightful," I mutter. "More hours I must spend squeezed into a room where I must be careful not to dislodge the curtains or splinter the delicate human furniture."

But as I'm walking toward the bedroom, I hear an odd tapping sound, not from the suite door, but from the wall. With a frown, I pause, half-certain that I'm going mad.

"Do you hear that?" I ask Meridian.

"I do." Gripping his walking stick, he moves closer to the source of the sound—a painting of a somber-looking gentleman and his pack of hunting dogs. The tapping sound is unmistakably coming from behind it.

"Open the painting," says a muffled voice—a voice that makes my heart jump. "The image of the six-petaled flower on the frame, and the sunburst on the opposite side. Push both of them together."

"Serylla?" I exclaim.

Meridian sets his stick against the wall and deftly presses the spots she described. With a sharp click, the painting pops slightly outward, and Meridian swings it open like a door. Behind it, in a dim, narrow passage, stands Serylla, looking rather dusty and hollow-eyed, but smiling all the same.

I reach for her, and she bounds out of the passage and into my arms. "Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you for the tea. I needed it so much."

"I've owed you that tea for a while." I kiss her forehead.

Meridian clears his throat. "Not that this isn't adorable and romantic, but Princess… why are you here? You really shouldn't be. "

"You're in danger," she says. "Not just you, as Kyreagan, but you as Prince Gildas. Rahzien told me he's going to have you assassinated. In fact, he made it sound as if he'd come here and do it himself."

"Why? Has he discovered what I am?"

"He doesn't know you're a dragon, but he's very suspicious. He thinks you're a spy. Please, you need to leave."

"Not without you."

She shakes her head, fondness and frustration mingling in her tone. "But you can't take me with you, not yet. And I won't let you stay here and die, Kyreagan."

A reckless fury rolls through my chest. "If Rahzien comes here for a fight, he'll get one. Maybe I can't kill him, but I can at least damage him."

"And then what will his soldiers do to you? We keep going in circles, Ky—the same problems with no solution. But you're out of time. You came here for me, and I know you'll come back, but right now, you have to go. You have to turn into a dragon and fly away from here."

"No." The word comes out in my deepest growl.

Serylla's fingers tighten on my arms, and her eyes blaze into mine. "Stop it, Kyreagan. You have to go. I absolutely refuse to watch you die. Don't you understand—if I know you're alive somewhere, I can bear anything. But your death would break me. It would destroy me completely."

"And leaving you here alone would destroy me !" I burst out.

She narrows her eyes at my vehemence, but I'm beyond reason now. The bare thought of abandoning my mate again is revolting. It's against my nature. How do I make her understand?

Taking a deep breath, I collect both her hands in mine and try to speak calmly. "I restrained myself when I saw you being whipped, when I watched others dancing with you, touching you. When Lord Harlowe won that key, I sent Meridian to save you because I knew he was a better fighter than I am. I let him carry out the plan because I couldn't save you myself, and Serylla, it's killing me that I can't save you. A dragon isn't supposed to assume a false identity and lurk in corners when his mate is in peril. He incinerates the threat, devours the enemy. I've been holding back every day, for you, but you cannot ask me to do this. I will not leave you here, with him."

Her face is white, her eyes brimming with tears. "I understand how you feel. But you staying here is unutterably selfish, when I've told you I can't survive if you're dead."

"If I may," interjects Meridian. "Might I request that the two of you take my life into account while you're making plans?"

I blink at him. For a moment, I truly forgot he existed. "Fuck… of course."

"The only way to save Meridian and the others is for you to leave," Serylla urges. "Leave now, before—"

The door to the suite bursts open with a violence that kills the words on Serylla's tongue, and Rahzien strides into the room.

He looks at Serylla, no one else. His voice is low, his eyes like gray ice. "You ran straight to him, as I knew you would. Thank you, Spider, for providing the final proof I needed."

"What do you mean?" she falters.

"I told you a falsehood about my plan to assassinate Prince Gildas, a man you supposedly had never met before yesterday. I gave the guards orders that if you attempted an escape, they should go along with it and permit you to leave. How else do you think you got away so easily? Do you think yourself so very clever, or do you assume all Vohrainians are fools?"

"Fuck…" whispers Serylla, her eyes wide with horror.

"Fuck, indeed. When you risked everything to come here and warn this man, my suspicions were confirmed." Rahzien's gaze swerves to mine. "Allow me to welcome you properly, Kyreagan, Prince of Dragons, heir to the Bone-King. "

Vohrainian soldiers file into the room around him and take up positions along the walls, each one holding a gun.

Serylla's eyes dart from Rahzien to the open portrait, then back to me. Despair floods her gaze.

I'm already holding her hands. There's no use denying the intimacy between us, no point in lies or pretense. Lightly I stroke the backs of her hands with my thumbs, a reassuring caress. She lifts her chin and gives me a brave little nod.

Rahzien paces in a slow half-circle, like a predator circling his next meal. "There was something strange about you from the moment you walked into my court as Prince Gildas. Something familiar, though I couldn't place it. I brushed it off at first, but then you danced with her at the ball, and you had such an obvious connection. At first I thought it was a case of instant attraction, but my instinct told me you two had a prior history. And then there was that report of a dragon taking off from one of the palace towers—and the notable absence of your esquire afterward."

Meridian grabs his staff, but the moment he does, three guns are aimed toward him. Rahzien chuckles. "Put the weapon down, boy. And tell your allies in the other room to come quietly, if they'd like you to live."

"I am not at all sorry to report that they've left the premises," Meridian says.

Rahzien jerks his head to one of the guards, who heads into the other bedroom to confirm the claim.

"As I was saying," continues Rahzien. "Prince Gildas and my Spider had a connection. And she seemed ridiculously obsessed with the dragon who captured her." He looks at Serylla. "Honestly, your affinity for an actual beast is your least attractive quality." His gaze snaps back to me, gleaming with triumph and challenge. "Then you mentioned bone-tribute, and that clinched it for me. I didn't know how you managed to gain human form, but I knew who you were. "

"Then you should be afraid," I say evenly.

"I'm not. For so many reasons—among which is the link between Serylla and me. You can't kill me without killing her." Rahzien smiles. "But by all means, if you'd like to blow the place apart and scorch some of my men, take your true form, right now. I won't lie—I'm curious to see how your transformation works. It's a power I'd be very interested in exploring. So many possibilities."

There's relief in the knowledge that I don't have to hold back anymore, that my only option is to shift, to kill as many Vohrainians as I can without destroying Rahzien, and then escape with Meridian and the Princess. Taking Serylla out of the city would kill her, but maybe I could carry her to another part of the Capital, give her some distance from Rahzien. She could go into hiding, keep out of his grasp until we can counteract the poison.

"Go on, then," Rahzien taunts me. "Take dragon form, and do your worst, or yield the Princess to me."

I murmur to Serylla, "Stand back, but be ready."

She nods, stepping away from me into the hidden passage. She waits there, just inside the entrance, watching me. Everyone in the room is watching me, and the silence is like the heavy quiet before a clap of thunder.

Turning my focus inward, I trigger the change.

And… nothing happens.

Frowning, I try again. My horns reappear, and so do my claws, but I'm still human.

This isn't right. I should have many more hours left as a dragon. I should be able to change.

"Having difficulties?" asks Rahzien blandly.

With a strained groan, I fight for transformation. I can feel my other form, just beyond my reach, but I can't access it. Flecks of fire quiver beneath my skin, and sparks flicker in the air when I breathe, but no matter how fiercely I struggle to shift, I can't.

"A little advice." Rahzien saunters toward me and smooths the fabric of my open shirt. "When you're residing in the same palace as a powerful poisoner, you might want to be more careful what you touch or consume."

Meridian groans. "The bracelet… or the tonic…"

"Both, actually," says Rahzien. "We couldn't be sure you would accept the drink without suspicion, so we prepared the gift as well." He points to the gold bracelet on my wrist. "The poison absorbs through the skin. So you were doomed either way, and doubly doomed because you're such a trusting fool."

When he pats my face, I ball my fist like Norril showed me and let it fly. Rahzien moves to dodge but I'm too quick—I manage to punch him in the eye.

He staggers, grunts, and returns the blow with interest, two punches in quick succession, his fist smashing into my mouth, then my nose.

Claws out, I lunge at him with a snarl, but the guards move closer, raising their weapons higher as one of them shouts, "Stay where you are, beast!"

Rahzien steps back, wiping at a trickle of blood from a cut on his cheekbone. "I'd control that temper if I were you, dragon."

Again I try to transform, lines of fire cracking beneath my skin, a harsh roar erupting from my throat. But I can't do it. My ability to shift has been blocked.

I turn to Serylla, who stands wide-eyed and silent in the passage. "Run."

She shakes her head frantically.

"Serylla," I grit out. "Go."

"Spider." Rahzien's voice is heavy with power, with warning. "Come to me. You are my pet. You do as you're told. When you do as you're told, you receive good things. "

My beautiful queen casts him a vulnerable, frightened look and shudders. I don't know everything he has done to her, how he gained even a little sway over her mind—but right now I need her to trust me, to see herself the way I see her.

"You possess no power over her," I tell Rahzien, though I never take my eyes off Serylla. "She was never truly in your control, and you did not break her. Nothing can, because she always survives." I keep looking at my mate, piercing her gaze with all the admiration and love in my soul. "She has the heart of a dragon."

There it is. The spark in her blue eyes—her spirit, her courage.

"I fucking love you," she says, low and tender. And then she's gone, disappearing into the passage.

Rahzien vents a sound of explosive frustration. "You three—go after her."

A few guards head for the passage, but Meridian presses something on the painting's frame, and it begins to swing shut, slowly and ponderously. As the guards rush past him, he sticks out his right foot, and one of them trips, careening against another guard. Before they can right themselves, the painting snaps into place, and the guards begin to fumble around the frame, trying to open it.

"Use your guns on the damn thing," orders Rahzien. "Blast the painting, rip it open, get through! I want her caught and brought to me immediately."

The guards open fire on the painting. I've heard Vohrainian guns before, but never this close. It's excruciating to my sensitive ears. My skull rings with the aftershocks of the volley as I watch the guards.struggle to wedge their armored bodies through the ruined portrait and hurry after Serylla in single file.

"Such a ruckus," comments a pleasant voice behind Rahzien. Lady Cathrain, the healer, in the same dark brown dress, but without her flowered shawl .

"You're here at last," says Rahzien. "It seems your solution worked."

"Of course it did." She beams at him. "When have I failed you?"

"Not yet." He gives her a fond half-smile.

Meridian and I realize the truth at the same moment. I can see it in his eyes, the same shock, the same dread.

"It's you," I growl at Lady Cathrain. "You're the poisoner."

"I'm a healer first," she says, with a kind smile. "And I never use my abilities to kill humans. My goal is to protect and preserve human life."

"But you tied Serylla's life to his."

"To protect my Lord and King. To preserve them both in harmony," she says. "Linking them this way diminished the likelihood of violence and death. It made everyone more thoughtful and careful with their actions."

Meridian gives a derisive snort. "Delusional."

"You slaughtered my clan." There's a stinging sensation behind my eyes, a gathering of tears that I can't stop. "You designed a poison to destroy us."

"Because you're not human. You are instruments of death and destruction," she says gently. "You're capable of killing great masses of people with one stream of fire. As His Majesty says, you're too dangerous to exist."

"She's a woman of principles," Rahzien says, squeezing her arm affectionately. "A guiding star to her King. Most healers can look inside the body and spot anything that isn't as it should be, so when she checked you after our meeting, she confirmed my theory about your nature, that you were a dragon in a man's shape."

"Your body bears markers of a deep physical spell," says Cathrain. "Not something I can undo—it's much too powerful. But since we came to the palace, I've been studying the supplies and spellbooks the Supreme Sorcerer left behind. He ascribed to the Jaanan school of magic, which uses eclipse gems and genestree sapstones as binding agents for the most powerful spells. The only other Elekstan sorcerer I've heard of who could turn one species into another is his daughter Thelise, and since she would have learned the basics of her craft from her father, I assumed she would likely have used the same binding agents. All I had to do was block the latent residual influence of the eclipse gems, which controls the timing of your shift, and there we are!" She gives me a beatific smile.

"So you trapped me in this form." I consider throwing another punch or two, but when I catch Meridian's eye, he shakes his head slightly and nods to the guns trained on my chest and his.

"Yes, you'll remain in this form, unable to change," says Lady Cathrain pleasantly. "As time passes, your body will suffer from my interference with Thelise's spell. The longer you remain in human form, the weaker you will become, until you eventually die. You may have escaped the death that your fellow dragons suffered, but fate knows your race's time is at an end."

"You ascribe your own motives to the cosmic forces of the world," I growl. "The hubris of it is beyond belief."

For the first time, the healer's face turns stiff and unpleasant. "I am a humble woman, not a prideful one."

"Lie to yourself all you want," I reply. "You are more of a monster than any dragon."

"Enough," Rahzien cuts in. "Take them to the dungeons. And have a selection of torture instruments sent to the dragon's cell. I have questions for him that he may be reluctant to answer."

I'm trying to maintain my courage, but I can feel it receding. Since the moment I arrived here, I had the confidence of knowing that my dragon form was only a thought away, that if things grew too perilous, I could summon it. Even if I perished, I would die in a blaze of glorious flame .

But now I'm bound in this weak, unprotected form. I don't have my size, my spikes, my scales, or my fire. I am limited to malleable flesh and thin skin. I am far too easy to slice and bruise. As a human, pain is sharper, more dangerous, nearer to the bones. My organs and my lifeblood are dangerously accessible.

As the Vohrainians close in, Meridian snatches up his stick again, presses the button to extrude the spikes from its head, and strikes the gun from the hands of the nearest soldier. He follows up with a ringing blow to the soldier's helmet, but then he's overwhelmed, restrained. His hands are yanked behind his back and bound tightly.

"Do you carry rope around with you all the time?" he says hoarsely to the soldier tying him up. "Seems odd. Where do you keep it? That satchel there? Is it your rope satchel? Do all of you Vohrainians carry a handy piece of rope, or is this man the designated rope carrier? Is it because he—"

"Shut up." The guard smacks the side of Meridian's face so hard his glass eye pops out of its socket and rolls across the floor.

"Now look what you've done." Meridian spits blood. "My best glass eye. It'll be all scratched up now, and it wasn't cheap. Not easy to match such a beautiful eye as this one." He winks his one blue eye. "I hope you plan to reimburse me."

Rahzien actually chuckles at the remark, but Cathrain only prims up her mouth. "I have a few things to tend to," she says. "May I collect samples from the shifter, once he's restrained?"

"Of course," replies Rahzien.

Cathrain nods and leaves the room. Perhaps she thinks that if she doesn't witness the violence, she need not feel guilty about it.

Inspired by Meridian's resistance, I don't go quietly. I manage to slash deep across the throat of one guard and the wrist of another. My height and my claws keep the Vohrainians at bay for a moment, but they're all trained warriors, and I'm borne down to the ground under the weight of them, under a flurry of blows and kicks. Rahzien lets them beat on me for several minutes before bellowing, "Enough! Take him below."

I'm dragged to my feet, my clothing in tatters and my body throbbing with pain. But I manage to slur, "Fuck you," at Rahzien through a mouthful of blood as I'm hauled out of the room.