It’s like he’s forgotten I’m here, and I’m suddenly aware of how alone I am. If I looked away a little too long and he walked off without me, we might never find each other. If he even tried to look for me. He could easily decide not to, or some other dragon could find me first—which seems pretty likely—and then I’d just be gone.
When they’re done hugging, the two of them step back and look each other over. Then just when I think I can’t feel any more left out, they start talking excitedly in what I assume is their native language—what did he say it was? Vairlin?—and it’s like I don’t even exist.
I clear my throat. Loudly.
The naked girl glances over at me. She tilts her head in my direction and says something to Amelrik.
He laughs.
Great. What did she say about me that was so funny?
“Virginia, this is my cousin, Odilia.”
Oh. His cousin. Not his girlfriend or anything. Unless dragons don’t view cousins as off-limits. She could still be both. “Wait, what’s your cousin doing with Elder clan? Did she get traded, too?”
“Wow.” He blinks at me. “Where exactly do you think you are?”
“You know where I—”
“How many times do I have to tell you? This is Hawthorne clan. Haw. Thorne.” He shares a look with Odilia and rolls his eyes, like Can you believe how stupid she is?
“We’re where?!” I glance around at the tunnel walls, as if that’s going to tell me anything.
He forces a smile, his teeth clenched. “Remember what we talked about?”
“If this is Hawthorne clan, then what are we doing here? What about Celeste?!”
“I’ll explain it to you again later.” Then, to Odilia, he says, “You’ll have to excuse her. Humans get so confused once they lose sight of the sun.”
Odilia nods knowingly, like that’s actually a thing. Then she frowns and asks him something in Vairlin. They go off again, talking really fast, only this time they seem angry. I don’t have to speak the language to know they’re having an argument. Possibly about me. Odilia keeps waving her hands in my direction, and I think Amelrik might have said “St. George” once or twice, though it’s hard to know for sure. He folds his arms across his chest, and the two of them stare each other down, neither one apparently wanting to yield.
“It’s my choice,” Amelrik finally says. His voice is quiet, but also unwavering, not inviting any doubt.
Odilia clucks her tongue. “I hope you know what you’re doing, cousin.” Her tone implies that she’s pretty sure he has no idea what he’s doing. She moves away from us, and then there’s the sound of bones crunching and skin tearing as she changes forms, turning into a sleek black dragon with the same flashes of red under her wings as Amelrik.
Amelrik looks pissed. He takes my arm again and says, “Come on,” before storming off down the hall.
“What did she say?” Because whatever it was, it obviously got to him.
He hunches his shoulders—now who’s not standing up straight? “It was just . . . It was nothing.”
Yeah, right. “Where are we really right now?”
“Hawthorne. I thought I made that clear.”
He thinks he made that clear? Maybe he did, but only after he tricked me into coming here. “You lied to me.” My voice sounds so small, even as it echoes against the walls.
“So did you.”
“But . . .” But my lie wasn’t as big as his. At least, not for me. “Is Celeste here?”
“It was Elder clan who captured her. You know that.”
“I also thought I knew where we were! That I knew where you were taking me! Is Celeste even still alive?” My insides cinch up, and I hold my breath while I wait for his answer.
“I wouldn’t lie about that.”
How am I supposed to know what he would or wouldn’t lie about? “We’re supposed to be rescuing Celeste, so what are we doing here?”
“Don’t worry. This is all part of the plan.”
If he doesn’t want me to worry, maybe he should stop giving me so many reasons to. “Why did you lie and say we were going to Elder clan? If this really is part of the plan, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s a delay, and you wouldn’t have accepted that. You think we can just walk up to Elder clan and steal their St. George?”
“Their St. George? You make her sound like an object. She’s my sister.”
“They won’t want to let her go. You’re better off here. For now,” he adds, though it sounds like an afterthought. “I promise she’ll be all right. And I told you to play along. Causing a scene in front of Odilia is one thing—”
“Wait, you think I caused a scene?”
“—but we’re about to have an audience with my father. He might not be happy to see me. Whatever I say—whatever happens in there—it’s extremely important that you back me up.”
“So you just want me to go along with whatever you say, no matter what it is?”
“Our lives depend on it.”
“Your father wouldn’t kill you, would he?”
Amelrik looks away. “You don’t know the situation. It’s complicated. Odilia was right when she said I’m not supposed to be here.”
She must have said that while they were arguing. “So explain it to me.”
“There’s no time. He’ll have already heard about my return. Either we go talk to him now, or we run like hell. And we never get your sister back, and I . . .” A pained look crosses his face, and he stops himself from whatever he was about to say. “Please, Virginia. I need you to do this for me.”
He’s not telling me everything. But the dread in his voice when he talked about seeing his father was real. Then again, I believed him when he said this was Elder clan, so what do I know? “Answer one question for me, and I want the truth this time. What’s the real reason you saved my life that night of the party?”
“You won’t like it.”
“I don’t care.” I just want to know if there’s any hope of trusting him.
“It was the way everyone was treating you. Like there was something wrong with you, like you’d never be good enough.”
“So you felt sorry for me.” He’s right—I don’t like that answer.
“I thought we had something in common. That’s why I told you to run.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not.”
He makes a hmph noise, like he doesn’t believe me. “You asked for the truth, and I gave it to you. Now come on—we’re keeping my father waiting, and I’d like to get this over with.”
21
GO WITH THIS
The king sits with his court, all in dragon form, at the end of a gigantic chamber. I thought I would be the terrified one, walking into a room full of dragons who could easily decide to kill me, but Amelrik’s practically shaking as he leads me over to them.
“Remember,” he whispers, “follow my lead.”
I nod, not daring to speak. I feel like if I do, my voice will come out way too loud.
All the dragons look the same to me, but it’s obvious which one is the king. He sits in the middle, with the others gathered around him, silently watching us approach. I can’t read any of their expressions, but there’s definitely tension in the room, and none of this seems particularly welcoming.
We stop right in front of him. Amelrik drops to his knees, then gets down on all fours and presses his forehead to the ground in some elaborate bow.
I’m still standing.
He lifts his head just enough to glare at me and clears his throat.
Oh, right. I get down on the floor, too, trying to copy what he’s doing. I hate not being able to see what’s going on, but it’s not like knowing that a dragon is about to squash me or burn me to a crisp is going to make it not happen. Or make me magically fast enough to avoid it. Plus, you know, there’s a whole room full of them.
Scratch that. A whole la
ir full. If they decided I wasn’t leaving here alive, there’d be absolutely nothing I could do about it. And now I’m kind of glad I’m already on the floor, because my whole body feels like pudding.
There’s the sickening sound of flesh and bone twisting and rearranging as the king changes forms to match his son. Then—and this is the worst thing I’ve ever heard—the rest of the court does the same. It’s like the sound of my mother dying, a dozen times over, all at once.
The king stands before us. I’m wondering just how long we’re going to have to stay like this when he says, “Rise.”
Finally. I start to get to my feet, but I make the mistake of glancing up from my position on the floor. Like Odilia, the king isn’t wearing anything. I guess there’s no point, since their clothes would just rip apart every time they transformed. But seeing Amelrik’s naked father—seeing all of him—was not something I needed to happen today. I quickly look down at the ground again, careful to keep my eyes averted even after I’m standing. Not that anybody seems to care—I guess they’re used to not wearing clothes here. But still.
The king cups Amelrik’s face in his hands, studying him, like he’s afraid this isn’t really happening. “Amelrik. My son.” There’s so much emotion in his voice. Relief and joy mixed with sadness and pain.
“Father.” Amelrik lets out a deep breath, and it’s like a huge weight lifts from him.
The rest of the court is absolutely silent, watching this play out.
The king takes a step back, letting go of Amelrik. There’s no relief in his voice now—only horror—when he says, “What have you done?”
Amelrik flinches. “I’ve come home.”
“Do you realize what they’d do if they knew you were here? And oh, if she saw you . . .” He makes a cutting motion with his arms. “I have no son! My son is dead!” He turns to one of the members of his court and says, “No one mentions this. No one. He was never here.”
“No!” Amelrik’s voice echoes through the chamber. He clenches his fists. “I’m not leaving. Not this time.” He glances over at me, then back at his father. “You need me.”
“I am your king! Do not presume to tell me what I—”
Amelrik interrupts him, shouting something in Vairlin. I have no idea what he says, but the king goes quiet, and a murmur runs through the court. All eyes are suddenly on me.
The king scowls at Amelrik, looking really pissed off. Actually, all the dragons look pretty pissed off. And none of them looks happy that I’m here. Or that I exist at all. The king sneers at me, a low growl emanating from his throat, and I think he’s about two seconds away from changing back into a dragon and ripping me apart.
Amelrik steps in front of me and starts talking really fast. In their language, of course, because why should I know what’s going on? I definitely hear the words “St. George” this time, though—as if it wasn’t already clear he’s talking about me.
The king asks him something. He doesn’t sound very happy about any of this. They go back and forth for a while, until Amelrik grabs my hand and pulls me forward, so I’m standing next to him. He leans in close and whispers in my ear. “Tell them you will.”
“I will what?”
“Just say it. Like you mean it.”
I look around at all the dragons—the naked men and women staring intently at me. I have no idea what I’m promising right now, but they’re all waiting for me to say it, and they look like they’re going to kill me if I don’t. “I . . .” My voice comes out a croak. I pause to clear it. The sound reverberates across the giant room, seeming crazy loud. “I will.”
The dragons gasp and speak to each other in surprised whispers, though at least they sound less angry.
Amelrik squeezes my hand. He looks pleased with me. Not just pleased, but like he’s really glad that I’m here.
Warmth spreads through my chest, unbidden, and I can’t help grinning at him.
The king shouts something—not angrily this time, but more like he’s making an announcement.
Then Amelrik holds his arm up, bringing mine with it, so that they’re both raised above our heads. “You heard your king! If anyone challenges her, they challenge their prince and all of Hawthorne clan! Virginia St. George belongs to me and me alone!”
Wait, I what?!
“Go with this,” he whispers.
“Go with what? What are you—”
He kisses me.
I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I sure as hell haven’t kissed a dragon. I try to pull away at first, out of instinct. He can’t expect me to actually go along with this. But his arms are around me, holding me close, his warmth encompassing me. He presses his lips softly against mine, kissing me like he means it. My insides melt. A thrill runs from my stomach down to my toes. And suddenly pulling away is the last thing on my mind.
22
IF I HAD ANY STANDING AS A ST. GEORGE, I CERTAINLY DON’T ANYMORE
Amelrik acts like nothing happened. It’s infuriating, to say the least.
We’re in his old room, which is a small, oblong chamber in the Royal Branch of the cave system. There’s a leather flap hanging from a fixture in the rock that serves as a door. A couple of servants in human form—naked, of course—are hurriedly lighting lamps and braziers and dusting off all the furniture. I imagine it’s easier to do housework when you have thumbs, but the room is also small enough that a full-grown dragon wouldn’t fit inside. I wonder if that’s intentional.
Once everything’s lit up, Amelrik dismisses them, telling them to bring us some roast beef and potatoes—I guess dragons don’t eat that differently from us—along with some fresh clothes. I watch them leave, thinking that as soon as they’re gone, he’s going to explain himself. But instead he surveys the room, his expression full of awe. “It’s exactly how I left it.”
Meanwhile, my mind is reeling. I have no idea what’s going on here or what just happened, other than that he kissed me. And that I liked it. Maybe a lot. Okay, definitely a lot, but I’m not ready to admit that. My first kiss was with a dragon, and if I had any standing as a St. George, I certainly don’t anymore.
Amelrik’s room is better lit than the rest of the caverns we’ve seen. There’s a giant four-poster bed in the back with a wooden chest at the foot of it. Next to it is a desk with some parchment and ink and a stack of wax tablets. A marble chessboard stands off to one side. At least, I think it’s chess, but all the pieces look like dragons instead of humans. It has its own table—also marble—and the chess pieces seem to be cut from jewels. One of the armies is emerald, the other sapphire.
One whole wall of the cavern has shelving carved into the stone. Every bit of available space on it is crammed with books. Amelrik runs his hands over their spines. He pulls one off the shelf and holds it out for me. “Here, if you like the Princess Mysteries, you’ll like this, too.”
I flip through it, but none of it’s in English. “I can’t read this.”
“What? Oh, right.” He sighs, disappointed with me, and takes it back.
“So, what was that about?”
His shoulders stiffen, so I know he knows what I mean. “What was what about?”
“Are we . . .” I’m almost too afraid to ask this. “Did we just get married?” Please say no. Please say no.
He raises his eyebrows. “You’re joking, right?”
“I didn’t hear an answer.”
“I’m a prince!” He puts a hand to his chest. “I can’t marry a human! Especially not one of paladin blood. And especially not in front of my father.”
“What was that kiss about, then?”
“Last I checked, kissing someone doesn’t mean you’re married.”
“No, I mean, why did you do it?” And why did he have to do it so well?
“I had to show them I was serious about you belonging to me. That’s all.”
If that’s all, then why did it feel like he meant it? “I don’t belong to you.”
“Hey. Keep your voice down.�
�� He makes sure the door flap is closed, then motions for me to follow him deeper into the room. “Be careful what you say. Someone might hear you.”
“But—”
“Look, I know I don’t own you. But everybody else in this place? They can’t know that. If they find out the truth, they’ll kill you. And then me.”
“So they have to think you own me? Right. And you keep saying humans are uncivilized.”
“You can’t just go wandering around unclaimed. It’s dangerous. And they know you’re a St. George, so you’re really not supposed to be here. I’m responsible for you. Both for keeping you safe and for not letting you hurt anyone.”
“They think I’m going to hurt someone?”
“With your magic.”
“Magic I don’t have.”
“Shh! What the hell is wrong with you? Obviously I told them you did. I had to convince them we needed you. Elder clan has a St. George—we can’t let them get an advantage over us.”
“So you told them I can cast binding spells?”
“Better than your sister. And with you, we have the advantage. Celeste is a hostage, but I told them you were on our side, that you want to help us. Well, that you want to help me in particular.”
“Oh, yeah? Because right now, I kind of want to murder you in par—”
He claps a hand over my mouth. “Watch it, Virgin. You’re committing treason.”
I lick his palm. He immediately lets go, making a face.
“You don’t get to call me Virgin. Not when you’re one, too. And, anyway, I was joking.” Mostly.
“It’s still treason. You’re under enough suspicion as it is. The only reason either of us is here is because I convinced the court that I have control over you.”
“And because they think I can do magic.”
“You can.”
“I cast one spell, and it’s not even the one you told them I could do.” I keep my voice low, because maybe he has a point about not letting anyone overhear these things. “And I was only able to cast that one because you were . . . It was special circumstances. I can’t do it on command.”
“You don’t have to. Everyone just needs to think you can. And that you’re choosing not to and honoring your vow.”
Dragonbound Page 14
