And I know I’m not really beautiful. My chest isn’t big enough and my waist isn’t small enough and my face is too plain. If I was beautiful, guys would look at me the way they always look at Celeste or Mina or any of the other girls. They would ask me to dance at parties. And maybe their lack of interest has more to do with me not living up to my family name, but still. If I was beautiful, I would know it by now.
“All brides look gorgeous on their wedding day,” Mrs. Hathaway adds, as if she can tell what I must be thinking. “Lord Varrens is very lucky to have you.”
“But I’m not lucky to have him.” The words come out small and bitter. I don’t know how I can go through with this tomorrow. Father’s going to have to stand next to me and move my head up and down when the priest asks if “I do.”
Mrs. Hathaway sighs and pulls me to her in a hug. “You’ll make the most of it. It’s what we do. My marriage to Torrin’s father was arranged, you know. I was as nervous as you are, but we made it work, and then we grew to love each other.”
“Mr. Hathaway wasn’t a hundred years old.”
“Well, no, but . . .” She struggles to come up with a bright side to all this. “At least you won’t have to leave the barracks. And he’ll be kind to you. It could be worse.”
I know I’m supposed to be grateful for that, but is it so wrong for me to want more in a husband? It’s great that he’s probably not going to be mean or beat me or anything. He’s just going to force himself on me and make me bear his children—that’s all. “I was supposed to marry someone I love.” My voice shakes, on the verge of tears. I always thought that was what was supposed to happen, anyway. Even if it doesn’t make sense for a dud like me.
“It will be all right.” Mrs. Hathaway pats my back. “You’ll see. And if you have any questions, about your wedding night—”
“I don’t.” It’s going to be awful. I don’t need to go over the details.
She raises her eyebrows. “If you’re sure. I know I was terrified. My mother wouldn’t talk about it, and all I knew was what little information me and the other girls had managed to put together. So if you change your mind, you let me know.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Hathaway. For everything. But I think I’d like to be alone right now.”
“Let me help you out of your dress, and then I’ll let you be.”
I nod, because I don’t trust myself to speak.
“You know, I always thought that someday you and our Torrin would . . . Well, never you mind.” She waves her hands and starts unbuttoning the dress. “Things rarely work out how we thought.”
She can say that again.
It’s almost dawn when I approach Amelrik’s cell—nearly time for his execution.
He’s awake, though his eyes are bloodshot, and I wonder if he’s been up all night, like me. We stare at each other through the barred window. The lines from where I scratched him are still visible, though just barely. His black eye has turned yellow and mostly faded, though the skin near the dragon ring around his neck looks worse than ever.
“You’re still here,” I tell him.
“Sorry to inconvenience you.”
“I mean, you didn’t escape.”
“Not yet. I thought you’d want one last chance to tell me I deserve this.” He laughs. Not like he’s making a joke, but like he knows these are his last moments alive. The laughter turns into a cough, and he winces, but it doesn’t look like he’s in as much pain as he was the other day. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. But there’s no blood on his lips, and I know dragons heal faster than humans, even without access to their magic.
I reach a hand into my pocket, feeling the cold iron of the key I stole. “Do you really believe my sister’s alive?”
“Do you really believe I sent her to her death?”
I scowl at him. I don’t know what to believe anymore. He’s killed hundreds of people—a lot of them paladins—but he saved my life. He could have gotten away, but he saved me, and now he’s going to die because of it. “You wanted Lothar dead—I believe that much. You thought Celeste could kill him for you, so . . .” I shut my eyes, hating what I’m about to say. “No, I don’t think you sent her to her death. Not on purpose.”
“Your sister’s still alive. It’s not something I believe—it’s something I know.”
“How? Your clan and his are enemies, aren’t they?”
He bristles at that, his expression turning grim. “It’s a long story. Too long.” His eyes dart toward the hallway, though no one’s coming for him yet.
“But you know where she is? You know where they would have taken her?”
He studies my face. “You’d never make it.”
Not on my own. I clutch the key, still in my pocket, letting the metal dig into my hand. I can’t believe what I’m about to do. “Why did you save me?”
“I told you. I have a soft spot for virgins. It is still Virgin, isn’t it? I keep hearing something about a wedding.”
“It’s still Virginia. And I want the truth.”
“You wouldn’t like the answer.” He moves closer to the door, his hands on the bars. “Are you sure you—” He stops, tilting his head and going very still, listening to something. “They’re coming.” There’s real fear in his voice, despite all his talk before of getting out of here.
His hearing must be a lot better than mine, because I don’t even hear footsteps on the stairs yet. The key digs into my skin. It wasn’t hard to steal it. No one was guarding it, because no one in the barracks would be stupid enough to release the most wanted dragon in the five kingdoms. No one except me, apparently.
I don’t even want to think about what Celeste would say if she was here. Or how much Father would hate me if he knew—more than he already does, I mean. And I wince as I picture the look on Torrin’s face if he could see me now.
But, you have to admit, it really doesn’t sound like you.
Torrin’s words echo back to me. He thinks he knows me so well. But if just talking to a dragon doesn’t sound like me, letting one out of prison practically makes me a different person.
But I saw myself in the mirror last night, when I was trying on my wedding dress. I looked like a different person then, too—I just didn’t like what I saw. And what I’m doing now might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, or it might be the bravest, but either way, I like this version of myself a whole lot better.
My hands tremble as I hold up the key. Amelrik’s eyes widen when he sees it. I try to keep my voice steady and in control, but it shakes a little, making it obvious how nervous I am. “You’re not going to die today, and I’m sure as hell not going to get married. I’m going to open this door, and you’re going to take me to my sister. We’re going to rescue her.”
Amelrik opens his mouth to speak, then swallows a mouthful of air instead. When he finally does say something, his face is pained. “I told you to stay away from me. If I ever got free. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“The next person who tells me that is getting punched in the face.” I make a fist. “You saved my life, and now I’m saving yours. You need St. George magic to get that dragon ring off your neck.” The skin around the ring is still red and blotchy, looking more and more painful each time I see it. “Take me to my sister, and I’ll take the ring off.” He might know that I’m not a real paladin, because they’re marrying me off, but he doesn’t know I don’t have the family power. After all, he even smelled magic on me the other day, when I made that spark. And once we find Celeste, I’ll tell her how he helped me. I’ll convince her to remove it. Which means I’m only sort of lying to him.
He looks like he has something to say to that, but the footsteps of the paladins coming to take him away are approaching—even I can hear them now—and we’re running out of time. “You certainly waited until the last minute.”
“Yeah, but I’m here now.” I glance over my shoulder, then back at him. “Do we have a deal or not?”
“Deal,” he
says. “Just get me out of here.”
11
TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW
I fumble with the key to Amelrik’s cell. It sticks in the lock, and I have a momentary jolt of fear as I think maybe I grabbed the wrong one. I take it out to try again, but I’m so nervous, and my hands are so slippery, that I accidentally drop it.
Amelrik sucks in a breath, his face strained. He stares at me intensely, as if, you know, his life depends on me not screwing this up. Which isn’t exactly helping my nerves.
It also doesn’t help that the footsteps on the stairs are accompanied by voices. And of course I recognize them, because I know everyone in the barracks. But why did it have to be Torrin and Mina?
And why did they have to be talking about me?
“You should have told your girlfriend to show up for her own sister’s funeral,” Mina says. “Celeste would have wanted her there.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Torrin says that a little too quickly.
“You spend enough time with her.”
“Not like that. I would never . . . Vee’s like my sister. She’s getting married today, anyway.”
“Lucky you. You’ll finally be free from having to hang around with her.”
My ears get hot, and I can feel my whole face turning red.
“Hurry,” Amelrik whispers.
I nod, hating that he’s witnessing this, and pick up the key. I tell myself it doesn’t matter what they think of me, even if I don’t actually believe it. But whatever their opinion—whatever Torrin, my supposed best friend, thinks about me—it’s going to get a lot worse if they find me here.
“Aw, it’s not like that,” Torrin says, though he takes his sweet time about it.
I shove the key into the lock and pray that it turns this time. I can’t have grabbed the wrong one. I was careful, and, either way, there’s no time for mistakes. It’s one thing to let a dragon go, but it’s another to get caught failing at it.
“Still,” Mina says, her voice getting louder as they get closer, “now that she’s out of the picture, half the girls in the barracks will be practically throwing themselves at you.”
Wow. She doesn’t have to say that like she’s going to be throwing herself at him. Or like she already is.
The key finally turns in the lock, and the door swings open, freeing Amelrik. My heart races, knowing Torrin and Mina are going to be here any second. There’s no way we can fight our way out, and I don’t think either of them would be very sympathetic if I told them I was just stealing their dragon prisoner to go find Celeste, who they think is dead. I can picture the pitying way they’d tilt their heads, wondering if I’d completely lost it.
Maybe I have. But it’s too late to turn back now.
Amelrik’s eyes dart over to the hallway. “Come on,” I whisper, so quietly I’m almost mouthing the words. I motion for him to follow me, and we duck into the next cell down, which is empty and unlocked. I ease the door closed behind us just before Torrin and Mina arrive.
“Come on, dragon!” Mina calls as she approaches. “It’s time for you to—” Her voice cuts out, a little strangled cry escaping her.
“What’s wrong?” Torrin must not have seen yet.
“He’s . . . he’s gone.”
“He can’t be gone.” There’s movement, and then the sound of the cell door swinging open, followed by Torrin’s panicked voice. “He was here! How could this have happened?!”
“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not my fault.”
“You were the one who put him back in his cell last time, after questioning. Are you sure you—”
“Am I sure? Am I sure that I locked up a dragon?”
There’s a pause, then Torrin says, “Well, are you?”
Mina scoffs. “Come on, he’s got to be here.” Her footsteps move toward us.
We press ourselves against the wall, staying out of sight of the window.
Torrin follows her. “You really think he’s just going to be hiding in a different cell?”
Mina stops on the other side of the door, so, so close to us. “Listen, Hathaway, everyone knows your girlfriend’s been talking to him. And she’s . . .”
“What, Mina?”
“I can’t believe I have to say it. Vee’s completely unstable.”
I go tense, and it takes effort to keep my breathing steady. Not that I couldn’t guess she thought that about me, but hearing her say it out loud to Torrin makes my blood run cold.
Amelrik’s right next to me. Close enough that I can feel his shoulder against mine, and the warmth of his body heat. Can he tell how much their conversation is freaking me out?
“Oh, come on,” Torrin says. “Vee’s a little weird sometimes, but she’s not crazy.”
Weird? He thinks I’m weird? I mean, I guess I know I am, but he’s not supposed to know that. Or, at least, he’s not supposed to say it. Especially not to Mina Blackarrow, of all people.
“Did she tell you she thinks Celeste’s still alive? You know where she heard that? From the dragon.”
“I know—I was there.”
“He’s been filling her head with lies, and she’s been willingly talking to him. She was never the same after her mother died, and now dragons murdered her sister, too, and she has to marry that awful old man. I don’t know why I have to spell this out for you. She’s nuts.”
Amelrik shifts his weight a little. I wonder what he makes of all this—does he think I’m crazy, too?—but it’s dark in here, and I can’t see his face.
“She’s not.” Torrin’s voice shakes. He’s pissed at Mina now, despite their flirting earlier, and the way he was so eager to correct her about us not being a couple. “And even if she’s had some bad things happen lately, it’s Vee. She hates dragons. She’s absolutely terrified of them. She’s the last person who would ever let one go.”
Shut up, Torrin. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“He’s not here,” Mina says. “I’ve looked in all the cells. We’d better go report this.”
“Did you hear me? I said she wouldn’t do this.”
“I heard you.”
“And?”
Mina sighs. “And, like I said, we’d better go report it.”
We wait until they’re gone, and then I lead Amelrik out of the dungeon, around the back hallway, and up the staircase to my room. It’s the last place I ever thought a dragon would be, and certainly not because I brought one here.
But it’s also the last place anyone would look for him, and with Torrin and Mina starting up a search, it’s not safe to leave the barracks right now. When I decided to bust Amelrik out of jail, I thought I’d have more time. I didn’t plan for anyone to find out he was gone until we were well away from the barracks.
Amelrik stands in the middle of my room, his shoulders stiff, not touching anything. He was limping on the way up here, and I wonder how bad his injuries are and how much he’s healed over the past few days. He frowns at my wedding dress, which is on a wooden dummy in one corner. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “You’re bringing a boy to your room on your wedding day?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that your plan to get out of your marriage, Virgin?”
I can feel my face heating up, and now there’s not even the dim lighting of the dungeon to hide behind. “That’s not—I just saved your life, you know.”
“So you can use me for your own purposes. You made that clear.”
“Not like that. And if losing my virginity or getting caught with some guy in my room was all it took to get out of this marriage, don’t you think I would have done it by now?”
He tilts his head, not believing me.
“My father wouldn’t let a little thing like ‘the loss of my virtue’ or whatever get in the way. He blames me for what happened to my mother. He doesn’t want me around—especially now that Celeste’s gone.” I let my hands fall to my sides, trying to look like it doesn’t bother me. Or at least not too much.
Amelrik’s sta
ring at me, a concerned expression on his face.
Great, apparently even a dragon feels sorry for me. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you care.” Which he doesn’t. “I didn’t tell you that so you’d think I . . . Look, my point was that I’m not stupid, okay? If there was an easy way out of this marriage, I would have taken it.”
“So instead you’re running away with a dragon.”
“I’m doing that to save Celeste. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get back.” Maybe Lord Varrens won’t want me after all this, or maybe he’ll have died of old age by then.
“If you get back,” Amelrik mutters. He moves away from the wedding dress and over to my bookshelf.
“Those are books,” I tell him. “They have words inside that tell stories or give us information.”
He looks at me like I’m incredibly, unbelievably stupid. “I know what books are.”
“Oh.” Oops. “I just thought . . .”
“You just thought what? That dragons don’t have books? Even if we didn’t, I’ve lived among humans off and on for years. And despite how uncivilized most of you are, this isn’t the first time I’ve come across a bookshelf.”
“So, you can read?”
He scoffs. “Can I read?”
I swallow. “English, I mean. I’m sure you can read dragon language.” Though I hadn’t thought about it before now.
His eyes widen, and he blinks at me. “Dragon language? Are you serious?”
I have no idea what I’ve said wrong—at least, not this time—but he’s obviously offended. I should probably shut up instead of risking sticking my foot in my mouth again, but I don’t. “Well, you can, can’t you?” Maybe they don’t have a written version, but he said they have books.
“There’s more than one ‘dragon language.’ But yes, I can read Vairlin, my native tongue. And Drost, and some Marish, though I’m kind of getting rusty at it. And I’ve been speaking ‘human language,’ as you probably call it, my entire life. I can read it, and—this is really going to shake up your whole worldview—I can even write.” He mimes scribbling with a pen.
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