Dragonbound

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  “But—”

  My arms jerk behind me as the hunters pull on my leash. They do the same to Amelrik. I think maybe they’ve caught us talking, but then Bern announces they’re stopping for lunch.

  There’s a clearing on the side of the road where someone’s set up a couple little tables and some logs to sit on.

  They tie our leashes to a tree beside the clearing, then crowd around one of the tables and pull out a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, some apples, and some jerky from their packs.

  My stomach growls, and my mouth waters.

  Gavin hears my stomach and laughs. “No point in feeding you. But I might give you a scrap or two if you beg.” He looks right at me, and I know the offer—if you can call it that—doesn’t apply to Amelrik.

  “But do sit down,” Bern says, in between tearing off a hunk of bread and stuffing cheese in his mouth. “Don’t let it be said that I’m not a gracious host.” He laughs, bits of food spraying out across their table.

  Our leashes reach just past one of the logs. I entertain the idea of standing the whole time, to defy them and to look like I’m stronger than I am, but I’m too tired to put up a front. I sit down. The bark on the log is worn and not as uncomfortable as it looks, though it’s still kind of lumpy.

  Amelrik sits down next to me. “You couldn’t have gotten that spark if you didn’t have magic.”

  I glance at the hunters, to make sure they’re not paying attention. We were facing away from them on the road, but here they could easily look over and notice us talking. They seem to be too busy eating to care what we’re doing right now, though, so long as it’s not escaping.

  “It was a total fluke,” I tell him. “And it was one spark—not even a spell. It was nothing.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was real. You think I don’t know the stink of paladin magic? Of St. George magic?” He makes a face, like even the words taste bad. “Magic isn’t just a spark. It’s something that’s in your blood. And if you have it, it’s there.”

  “I’ve spent my whole life trying to do magic. What makes you think it would work now?”

  “This is our only chance to get out of here, and you know what will happen to us if we don’t.”

  “But—”

  “They want to eat my heart.” He tilts his head, emphasizing how awful and ridiculous that is. “They’re barbarians. Worse than paladins, even.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “I can save us.”

  “But I can’t.”

  “You have to try. Please, Virgin—Virginia. Please. You have magic—you just have to use it.”

  “I don’t know how. And maybe I do have magic, somewhere, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

  He considers that. “Maybe you don’t—”

  “Want it enough? That’s what Celeste says.”

  He scoffs. “And you’re risking your life for her?”

  “She’s my sister. You don’t know her. I mean, you only know one side of her.”

  “Does your heart beat because you want it to? Would your lungs stop working because you didn’t want air badly enough? Magic is like being alive. You don’t have to want it. It’s just there.”

  Nobody’s ever talked about magic like that to me before. Like they don’t blame me for not being able to make it work. “But I still don’t know how to—”

  “Hey!” Bern shouts. “No talking!” He eyes us suspiciously. “Lunch is over anyway. You two had best get up.” He motions for Sam and Gavin to untie our leashes from the tree.

  “Try,” Amelrik whispers, getting to his feet.

  Easy for him to say. But we don’t have much time, and he’s right. This is our only chance of getting out of this mess—I can’t just do nothing. I close my eyes and concentrate.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Bern asks. Then, to me, he says, “You, girl, you’d better get up if you know what’s good for you.”

  Fear squirms in my stomach and spreads through my chest, but I try to ignore it. Whatever they do to me now, it won’t be worse than what’s going to happen if we don’t get out of here.

  “I said get up!”

  “Don’t touch her!” Amelrik shouts. I open my eyes in time to see him step forward and take the blow Bern meant for me.

  “A dragon protecting a paladin? Now I’ve seen everything.”

  “Could be that she’s not a paladin,” Sam says. “Could be that she’s just a liar.”

  I ignore them, shutting my eyes again and focusing on what I have to do. I try to think of magic like Amelrik said, as something that’s just there. I made a spark before. The magic exists, even if I don’t know how to use it.

  Bern snorts. “Doesn’t matter what she is—this isn’t up for discussion. Someone get her up and let’s get going. I’ve got to walk off all that cheese I just ate.”

  “Step aside, dragon,” Gavin says. “I’ll haul her off of there with the rope if I have to. Is that what you want?”

  “Nobody hurts her.” Amelrik’s voice is low, almost a growl.

  Goose bumps spread across my arms. There’s going to be a fight.

  I hardly have time to register that thought before someone hits him. Hard. And then again.

  The sound makes me sick. He’s doing this for me. No, he’s doing this for both of us, but they’re going to beat the hell out of him, because I can’t take that ring off. The only thing that ever worked, that allowed me to make a spark, was thinking about how much I hated him. Or thought I did. And now there’s no chance of that, because I don’t. Because he’s maybe even sort of my friend—kind of my only friend right now—and all I know is I don’t want them to hurt him. I can’t let them put his head on their wall, or eat his heart, or any other crazy stuff they’re going to try. Maybe he’s only doing this because he needs me, not because he cares, but I care what happens to him. And I might not know him all that well, but if there’s even a chance of getting that ring off and getting out of here, I know he’ll stand there and take whatever they give him until he literally can’t anymore.

  He said magic is in my blood. Maybe it is, and if I can’t feel it, that’s only because it’s such a basic part of me. Like my heartbeat, like my breathing—always there, always happening, even when I don’t notice it.

  I broke a dragon out of jail. I caught fish with my bare hands. I’m not the helpless dud everyone at the barracks thinks I am. I’m Virginia freaking St. George, and I can do this.

  I never learned how to undo the spell on a dragon ring, but I picture the iron shattering, the magic dissipating.

  Amelrik cries out as another blow hits him. I open my eyes and see him double over and fall to the ground. The hunters start kicking him. In the ribs, in the stomach, in the face.

  “Stop!” I scream, my voice shrill and terrified. And I feel something. A tingling in my hands. There’s a flash of red, and the smell of sulfur, and a cracking sound as the dragon ring breaks apart. “Amelrik, now!”

  The hunters notice the ring. One of them swears. They back off to find their swords and their axes.

  Bern grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back. “You’ll pay for that.” Cold metal presses against my throat.

  Great. I finally manage to cast a spell, and before I can even celebrate, this jerk is going to kill me.

  The knife pricks my skin. I’m so sure I’m going to die. And then Amelrik tears Bern away from me with superhuman strength, the knife skittering to the ground. “I said don’t touch her!”

  I look at Amelrik, expecting to see a dragon. I’m not sure what I’m seeing.

  He’s transformed and broken out of his bonds—that much is clear—but his body is still human. No, his body is still mostly human. Leathery black wings with flashes of red underneath spread out from his back, having ripped through his shirt. His hands are still hands, but with hooked claws at the ends. His eyes are cat’s eyes—yellow with black slits. Patches of black scales cover the outside of his forearms, like armor. They creep up the sides of his neck and alo
ng the very edges of his face.

  I gasp. This is why he didn’t change forms the night of the party, when Lothar was goading him. Even if I’d never seen a dragon before, I’d know that he looks horribly wrong. Disfigured. Hideous. Words I never thought I’d think about him before this moment.

  He deflects Gavin’s sword with his scaled forearm, then takes the weapon from him, flinging it to the ground. Bern comes at him with an ax. Amelrik slashes at him with his claws. They come away bloody.

  Bern drops the ax and presses his hands to his sides. “Retreat!” he shouts, and Gavin and Sam fall in with him, backing out of the clearing and hurrying off down the road.

  Amelrik’s yellow eyes meet mine. He sees the shock on my face—the revulsion that I wish wasn’t there—and it’s like I hit him. Like I hit him harder than any of those hunters ever could.

  19

  AN UNDERGROUND ABYSS

  I hold in my questions as long as I can. I make it all the way to that night, when we’re sitting by the fire, chewing on the last of the food the hunters left behind. Amelrik gobbled down most of it earlier, after he changed back into human form. We’ve hardly said a word to each other since then, and the silence has been so tense and awkward. I can’t take it anymore. I open my mouth to speak.

  “No,” Amelrik snaps.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Whatever stupid question you were going to ask, the answer is no.” He scribbles idly in the dirt with a stick, not looking at me.

  “It’s not a stupid question.” And even if it is, I have to say something, because saying nothing is killing me. “Are you half dragon, half . . . human?”

  He shoves the stick harder into the dirt. “You’re not even sure what you think the other half is? That’s a new level of offensive, even for you. And no, I’m not.”

  “So your parents are both dragons, you’re just—”

  “Don’t.”

  “—different.”

  He flinches. “I hate that word.”

  There’s a sliver of apple peel stuck between my teeth. I worry at it with my tongue. “Do your wings work?”

  He stares at me, his green eyes bright and piercing. Maybe it’s related to his transformation earlier, or maybe it’s because the dragon ring is gone, but they seem more vivid. “Do I look like I want to talk about this?”

  “I just mean, can you fly?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. So, those red bits under your wings . . . is that why you dye your hair like that?” I gesture to the red streak in the front.

  “I told you I lived with Elder clan for a long time. I started doing this to remember where I came from.” He pauses, then corrects himself. “To remind everybody else where I came from. That I wasn’t one of them.”

  Yeah, I don’t think they needed any help with that. “Maybe, sometime, can I touch—”

  “No.”

  He was pretty quick with that one. I guess he doesn’t want me touching any part of him. “I was just going to say your wings.”

  “I know what you were going to say.”

  “You can’t blame me for being curious. Are there other dragons like you? Is this just something that happens? Is it . . . is it why your father sent you away?”

  He drops the stick and clenches his fists. “Stop. Just . . . stop. I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you, not with anyone!”

  “But—”

  “Not ever!” He gets up and storms off to the other side of the fire, away from me. Then a second later he storms back. “You don’t know me. You don’t get to ask me those questions and gawk at me and ask to touch me, like I’m some kind of sideshow attraction! Okay?!”

  There’s a bitter taste in the back of my throat, and my eyes are about to water. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “You saved my life, but I’ve saved yours three times now. I don’t owe you anything. And I’m certainly not here with you because I want to be!”

  “Then why are you here? The dragon ring is off—you don’t need me anymore. Just tell me where to find Celeste, and I’ll figure this out on my own.” Somehow.

  He sighs, his anger softening a little. “I’m still going with you.”

  “No, you’re right. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about dragons. You’d never make it on your own.”

  “You’re really going to still help me?” I give him a skeptical look. “Even though the ring is off and you don’t want to be here?” And even though I can’t stop asking him annoying questions?

  “I made a promise. Unlike some people, I keep mine. Besides, I’m not leaving you alone to get yourself killed.”

  “You would do that? For me?”

  He shrugs and looks away. “I’ve saved your life three times so far—what’s one more?”

  I don’t know what I was expecting the entrance to Elder clan to look like, but I guess I thought it would be more intimidating. It’s basically just the opening to a cave. A carved-out space in the rock that leads off into darkness. And okay, maybe a scary hole that leads off into an underground abyss full of dragons is intimidating enough. I’ve come to kind of trust Amelrik—maybe more than just kind of—but these dragons aren’t him. They could be violent and cruel, impatient and hateful. They could take one look at me and decide to kill or torture me. They could be all the things that he’s not.

  But Celeste is down there, waiting for me to rescue her, even if she doesn’t know it yet. There’s no question of whether or not I’m going in.

  Amelrik breathes in deep, like he’s savoring the essence of this place. “We’re here,” he says, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he sounded happy about that. Maybe he’s just glad that this is finally going to be over. But then he takes my hand in his and smiles at me. “Once we’re inside, follow my lead.”

  “That’ll be easier if you actually tell me the plan.” And also if he starts making sense.

  “The plan is I do the talking and you play along.”

  “But—”

  “You want to get your sister back, don’t you? Stick close to me. And do not wander off.”

  “Is that why you’re holding my hand?” Because he thinks I’m going to get distracted by the first shiny thing I see and disappear?

  He quickly lets go of me. “You’re right. It should be like this.” He holds out his arm instead, all serious and formal, like he’s about to escort me into a ball or something.

  Whoa. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to hold on to me. I’m not a child.”

  “Do you want to look like an important guest of royalty, or like a common slave?”

  “Gee, are those my only options?”

  “You’re making an entrance with a prince. Try to act like it. That means take my arm. And stand up straight.”

  His accent is getting thicker, and he’s talking really fast, so that it takes me a couple seconds to figure out what he said. And meanwhile he’s staring at me like I’m a complete moron. “I am standing up straight.” Close enough, anyway.

  He huffs in frustration, then looks me over and makes a face. “You should have had a bath.”

  “I should have had a bath?”

  “Both of us. But it’s too late now, and . . . just try not to embarrass me.”

  Embarrass him? What does he think I’m going to do?

  I take his arm like he said. If I want to get Celeste back, that means trusting him. Even if walking into a dragon clan’s lair is just about the scariest thing I’ve ever done, and any one of them could rip me apart with the slightest twitch of their claw.

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask him.

  “As sure as I’m ever going to be.”

  Which isn’t exactly the reassurance I was looking for. But he’s already leading me inside, and I didn’t come this far just to chicken out.

  20

  WHERE EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

  It’s a big deal that Amelrik is here, in the tunnels of Elder c
lan. I can’t see very well, since there’s only the occasional torch on the wall for lighting, but I can hear just fine. All the dragons stop their conversations as we pass by and start muttering to each other. Only a few of them say anything in English—I know I hear the word “prince” a couple times—but even when I can’t understand what they’re saying, it’s not hard to guess they’re talking about him.

  It’s so dark I can barely even see the purple of their scales—they all just look kind of black. Some of the dragons perch on rocky overhangs, staring down at us, while others lounge in caverns or make their way through the tunnels, scales and claws scraping against stone as they go about their business. Their eyes reflect the light with flashes of green. I don’t dare look at any of them for too long, and, despite what I said outside, I keep my arm tight around Amelrik’s.

  I can’t believe I’m here. Underground. Surrounded by a whole clan of dragons.

  I’m probably going to die today.

  There’s the sound of feet slapping against the floor—not a dragon’s, but a human’s—as someone comes running up to us. For just a second, my heart leaps, thinking it’s Celeste. That nothing bad at all happened to her and she’s free to leave with me.

  But it’s not her. Of course it’s not.

  This girl—who must really be a dragon—has long dark hair and looks like she’s around Amelrik’s age, possibly a little older. She’s also completely naked.

  She stops in front of Amelrik, staring at him with her hands in front of her mouth. “It’s you. But it can’t be. We thought . . .” Her voice breaks. She sounds like she’s going to cry. “I thought I was never going to see you again! It’s been so long, and they told us you were dead!”

  He pulls away from me and hugs her tight. “I know what they told you. It wasn’t true.”

  What? I have no idea what’s going on. Oh, except that Amelrik’s embracing some naked girl, and neither of them seems to think that’s weird.