by Jade Lee
No. Even if she could get her shoulders through, her belly was too large. And besides, she was nearly at the very top. Without a dragon to fly her to the ground, there was nowhere for her to go.
So she was stuck inside a plush bedroom with nothing but her thoughts and her egg for company. Once she would have thought this heaven. Now, she very much feared she was going mad. One day cooped up in this room and she... what?
She was suddenly looking forward to dinner with Dag Racho.
* * *
Natiya belched loudly, then pressed her hand to her mouth in mortification. "I am so sorry," she breathed, appalled by her rudeness. It had been so long since her parents or Uncle Rened had tried to instill polite behavior in her, she struggled to remember how one should behave among the upper class.
"Not at all, not at all. My chef is from that northern land we discussed earlier. And there, such actions are considered a compliment."
"Really?" Natiya asked, intrigued. "Well, then I... I hope he thinks... I mean..." She swallowed, hating that she felt so awkward in such lavish surroundings. "The meal was divine. Thank you."
The Emperor grinned. "I shall make sure he learns of your appreciation." Then he nodded to one of the burly guards who doubled as their waiter. The man disappeared, leaving no fewer than five other guard-servants spaced discreetly about the small dining chamber.
"Thank you," Natiya said out of politeness, but also out of true gratitude. The food had been the best she'd ever tasted, even surpassing Uncle Rened's table when he entertained wealthy customers. Her every need—whether for wine or a clean lapcloth—had been swiftly and respectfully met, often before she even realized the lack. And best of all, the conversation, like her companion, had been fascinating.
The Emperor had begun by complaining, albeit mildly, about the difficulty he faced in establishing trade relations with the northern country of Gambolt. He even asked her advice on the best plan of attack when dealing with northern thieves. She hadn't ever heard of any northern bandits. Uncle Rened had said nothing about roving bands of murdering thieves, but the Emperor was certain they existed. And when she pressed for details, he painted an ugly picture of death and destruction that she had no ability to counter. Without actually traveling to Gambolt, she couldn't know if the country was on the verge of civil war or invasion. And so she gave a simple, noncommittal answer, and then was stunned when he appeared disappointed. But his good humor quickly returned as he began asking simple questions about her life, seemingly fascinated by daily life on the docks.
It was a heady experience for her: having a man, especially so powerful and handsome a man, hanging on her every word. He listened attentively, pressing her for details when she skipped over things, sympathizing when she recounted even the slightest hurt or misunderstanding—which had naturally come often, given her secret. But he understood. He, too, had worked hard to hide his own egg so many cycles ago.
She knew he was merely gathering information, learning about her in the easiest of ways. But he was so charming and skillful that she found herself talking even when she resolved to change the topic. In the end, she wondered why she was so uneasy. After all, there was little to say about her life beyond dancing, serving drinks and hiding the egg. But his charm and wit had her revealing details about her life that went far beyond what she normally told anyone.
So when she at last rose up from the table, she felt sated, content and bizarrely guilty for enjoying the evening so much. In truth, she was reluctant to see it end, especially as her only other option was to return to her empty bedchamber and her thoughts.
"Please, could we not walk around the castle some? I am so weary of my bedchamber."
He turned, blinking in surprise. "Of course!" he responded congenially. "I had forgotten how the hatching time makes one edgy. I remember feeling trapped inside, as if the very walls were going to fall upon me."
"Exactly!" she whispered, realizing how perfectly he summarized her feelings.
"Then we must stroll the upper grounds. Besides, the Copper has been anxious to see you." He extended his arm as if she were a true lady, and Natiya blushed as she delicately placed her fingertips on his sleeve.
He was warm, of course, his body radiating an unnatural heat that was part of being dragonborn. But she found she liked the physical sensation of power that she got whenever she came near him. How much stronger it was when she touched his arm, and how delicious a feeling.
Natiya smiled as Dag Racho's guards fell into place around them: two in front, two beside, two behind. It made for a wide and rather ridiculous party, and the Emperor winked at her as if to share his amusement.
"They get upset if I go anywhere without them," he confided in an undertone. "Truly, they can be annoying, but they have their uses."
She frowned as they began to climb stairs that led to the highest floor of the castle. "But surely you can tell them to go away. If you wish for privacy."
He shrugged, the gesture resigned. "Danger lurks everywhere for a man such as myself." He turned and looked earnestly at her. "And for a woman like you."
She began to object, but he stopped halfway up the stairs and pressed a finger to her lips.
"Hear me out. We have power, you and I. Power that everyone would take from us if they could. And then they would abuse it, my dear, visiting horrible death and destruction upon these lands." He shuddered. "I have seen it, sweet Natiya. I was raised in it." Then he looked away, quietly climbing the rest of the way to the open roof. "They would abuse the power, and I will die before I see that happen again."
His voice had the low throb of a vow, and Natiya looked at him in stunned surprise. He must have realized the shock that echoed through her, because he turned to her, smiling ruefully at her expression.
"I forgot. You think I abuse the power, don't you?"
"Of course not," she responded quickly, because he so obviously wanted her to say just that. But then he shook his head, denying her very words.
"Of course you do. Why else would you have incubated an egg except to wrest the power from me?"
She opened her mouth to deny it; though how she could reasonably deny the truth was beyond her. It didn't matter in any event, because he kept speaking, forestalling her words.
"It's only natural. I killed your parents." He sighed. "I know you will not believe me, but truly it was necessary. They—"
"Were plotting against you. They gave the Platinum egg to Dag Jaseen."
He raised a single eyebrow and turned to her. "So you know."
She nodded. "I learned it from..." She couldn't say Kiril's name.
As if reading her thoughts, he nodded. "Of course. Kiril would know."
"Not everything," Natiya countered. "He thinks that all dragons are evil. He truly believes this."
"I know," Dag Racho said mournfully as they crossed the last threshold onto the roof. There, framed in stately glory before them, sat the Emperor's Copper dragon. The beast's eyes glittered like jewels, reflecting the brilliance of a hundred lightstaves. His wings were behind him, but as Natiya approached, he began to unfold them.
She had never been this close to a dragon before. The Copper was huge, standing three times her size, his wingspan over double that. And as she watched, he tensed on powerful legs before springing into the sky, a plume of fire heralding his flight. The wind from his massive wings nearly knocked her off her feet, though Dag Racho, she noted, stood rock solid.
Swiftly the Copper was lost in the night sky, only the occasional trace of fire marking his flight. Indeed, she would have lost interest were it not for her host's face. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his lips slightly parted. His face was turned up, as if to the wind, and his shoulders were pulled back, his arms twitching beneath his thin silver shirt, as if he, too, flew.
As if... Well, of course he was flying, she realized with shock. Dag Racho was bonded to his dragon. That meant, if he chose, he could experience every sensation of the Copper's amazing flight. And she wou
ld, too, in less than two weeks when her Queen hatched. She would be able to fly.
The thought was as astounding as it was riveting. It would be like dancing, only better. It would be boundless and joyful and everything that she loved about dancing except she could do it in the sky!
"A hundred cycles, and I still love it," Dag Racho murmured by her side. "Just as you will, a hundred cycles from now."
She looked at him, searching his expression for signs of deceit. She so desperately wanted his words to be true, but she had lived in the shadows for so long; it hardly seemed possible that she could ever soar openly into the skies.
"Watch," he ordered, his arm pointing to the sky. "He's coming back."
And indeed the Copper was. At first she had no guide to his location beyond Dag Racho's outstretched arm. But then she saw a dark smudge blocking out the stars. The inky cloud seemed to grow larger and larger until suddenly it was lit by one last stream of fire, revealing the Copper in all its glory. She gasped, stunned by the display. Her egg, too, seemed to appreciate it, twisting and pulsing with a kind of happiness Natiya had never felt from it before.
Then the Copper spread its wings, extending its powerful claws before it dropped back down to the stone roof. She expected to feel the thud of impact as the huge creature landed, but there was no sound, no vibration. He had landed as light as a feather with barely a breeze against her face to mark his presence. The Copper stood facing her, eyes once again glittering from the lightstaves, and slowly lowered its head before her feet.
She held her breath in awe. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and stroked his nose, feeling the cool scales and thinking them the most sensuous texture in the world. That was when she heard the noise: a low rumble that throbbed through the stones at her feet.
"He's purring!"
"Of course he is. He knows his beautiful Queen." She turned to her host, seeing his smile and gentle expression, and she felt such an overpowering wave of love, it nearly buckled her knees.
"Kiril is wrong," she said with absolute conviction. "They aren't evil. They're wonderful."
Chapter 11
"And what about me?" Dag Racho asked, his expression almost sad. "Am I evil?"
Natiya hesitated, unsure how to answer. At one time, she had certainly thought he was. But now? She didn't know, and so she sought to divert the topic. "How did you find the egg?" she asked. "Where did you hide until the hatching?"
"Ah, well, that is a tale and a half. Are you sure you want to spend so much time with such an evil man?"
She flushed, stroking the Copper's nose in her nervousness. "I am beginning to rethink my earlier opinions," she said slowly.
Once again his laugh startled her, filling the night sky with the sound—both gay and somehow infinitely sad. And when he was done, he grabbed two cushions and dropped them beside his dragon. "Well, that is something, I suppose," he said, as he offered her his hand.
She went willingly, settling down on the cushion right behind the Copper's left haunch.
"Lean back," Dag Racho urged as he sat and rested his head against the creature. "We like you there."
She did as she was told, feeling the dragon's heat enfold her from behind, while beside her, Dag Racho radiated his own type of heat. It was not sexual, although she could easily interpret it as such. It was more a banked intensity, as if at a moment's notice he could suddenly scorch someone with his fire. She knew it was silly, and yet she could not shake the feeling, though he did no more than smile drowsily at her. There was a danger about him that both thrilled and terrified her. So she remained wary even as the gentle thrum of the Copper's heartbeat tried to lull her.
"How did you get the egg?" she pressed, when it looked like Dag Racho was relaxing into sleep.
He took a deep breath as his gaze focused on something far away. "My parents were academics." He glanced at her. "We have that in common, you know. Except mine studied the sea. My father studied plants, my mother the sea creatures, and so we spent a great deal of time on the shores near the clutching caves."
She nodded, understanding what he was getting at. "You found the clutch."
He shrugged. "Actually, my sister did. She thought they were pretty stones, but I knew what they were."
"How many eggs did you find?"
"Five or six. But my Copper was the best. Sarah took the Coral."
"And the others?"
He shrugged. "We smashed them."
Natiya flinched, horrified at the thought.
He sighed, as if understanding her emotions. "You have to understand how different it was back then. I was only ten, but we all had suffered. Dragonlord after dragonlord fought over the smallest things. If the land were to survive—if the world were to survive—the other dragonlords would have to be defeated. I was only ten, but even then I understood."
"And so you incubated your Copper, and your sister a Coral. What did your parents think?"
Again, his shrug was casual. "They didn't know for many months. And by the time they discovered, it was too late. We both had already bonded with the eggs. To separate us then would have meant disaster."
Natiya frowned, matching his words with what she already knew. "But that's not true. It takes at least a cycle before separation becomes dangerous."
He grinned, as if pleased that she'd questioned him. "Ah, but you see, my parents didn't know that." He leaned forward, touching her arm in his earnestness. "Even then I knew what I wanted, knew what it would take to get there." He sighed. "Well, perhaps not everything, but I knew enough." His grin abruptly returned as he looked out into the blackened world beyond his castle. "And I was right. Look at everything I have achieved."
She didn't answer. Her eyes were busy watching his face, gauging his shifting moods and trying to guess what he wasn't telling her. She didn't know, of course, and more than that, he had the air of someone sharing a secret—as if he had waited for many cycles just to talk to someone, to tell someone his tale.
He glanced at her, shaking his head. "You don't know, do you? I forget how young people really are these days. Everyone who remembers my time died long ago, and you children don't remember how terrible it was."
She had no choice but to agree. "I'm sorry. I was only an average student, and history never seemed that important."
"But it is!" he exclaimed. "It will show you, it will tell you..." His voice trailed away.
"What?" she wondered. But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer: History would tell her what he had achieved. So she touched his hand where it lay on her arm. "I was a silly child. Please, will you tell me now?"
He brightened at that, his smile warming. Behind them, the Copper rumbled a contented purr. "Are you sure you want to hear such a dry, boring tale of cycles gone by?" His response was a token protest that Natiya was happy to brush aside.
"Of course I do. Please, tell me what you did."
He grinned, obviously relishing the telling. "I was young when I found the egg, but I rapidly grew, as did the egg. Ah, it was a dark time, all those years ago. We heard daily reports of dragons eating children. Babies by the dozen. Of the crops destroyed by dragon fire, of the acres and acres of farmland fouled by the beasts. And with every report, I swore I would see it change. I vowed with every breath that I would end the destruction."
"And you did," she said, caught up not by the tale but by the animation in his face, the light that seemed to glow from inside him as he spoke.
"It was my dream, and yes, I have seen it fulfilled. But it cost me greatly."
She nodded, though in truth she could not imagine the price he had paid. She only knew of the secrecy and daily fear that came with incubation. "How did you hide the egg?"
"Ahh," he said with a sweet smile, "that was the easiest part of all. As I said, my parents knew what we were doing—my sister and I. When the time came, they simply went on one of their research trips near the clutching caves. My Copper was hatched there."
"Did... did it hurt?"
She hadn't meant to ask that, but the words slipped out, and his eyes softened as he turned to her.
"It is not painful so much as..." He wet his lips, searching her face for something. Whatever it was, she apparently didn't have it, because he soon patted her hand. "I will help you through. Truly, it is much easier—much safer—with someone who understands."
She nodded to cover a tightness in her chest. The hatching was fast approaching, and she was not at all sure she wished to be around Dag Racho when it came. But if he were the only one who truly understood the process, then where else could she go? Who would help her? Her only thought was Kiril. As a dragon-hunter, he probably understood more than most exactly what was in store. Except, he was dead. By her own order. So she had best learn as much as she could from the only other person who would know.
"Please tell me about it," she urged.
The Emperor shook his head. "It is not a tale I wish to recount tonight. Suffice it to say that..." He sighed. "Well, my parents did not survive. They did not know how violent the hatching can be. How difficult." He twisted to stroke the side of his dragon. "But I had my Copper, and we did just fine together."
"I am so sorry. That must have been terrible for you both."
"Hmm?" He turned back to her, but his gaze lingered on his dragon.
"Your sister. At least you had your sister."
He frowned. "Oh yes. Well, she had her Coral, but that is a much lower dragon, you know, nothing like the metals. My Copper." He focused on her. "Your Golden Queen."
She nodded, uncomfortable with the way his gaze caressed her. It was so soon after Kiril and she... She pushed away the memories. She simply wasn't comfortable with sexual overtures of any nature, and so she shifted position, gently easing her leg away from his touch even as she kept her eyes trained on him. "Tell me more about after the hatching. They say it takes a while for the man and dragon to adjust to one another."
