Dragonbound

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Dragonbound Page 17

by Chelsea M. Campbell


  “But she wouldn’t have come here. She couldn’t have, because I wouldn’t have brought her. Your sister is the worst kind of paladin, because she believes all dragons are evil and that it’s her job to murder every last one of us.”

  “That’s not—”

  “True? Yes, it is. She wants to hurt us as much as possible. That’s what she uses her magic for. And that’s not you.”

  “I’m supposed to be like her. My whole life, that’s all anyone’s ever wanted from me.” Everyone except for Amelrik, that is.

  “But what do you want? Maybe the reason you could never do magic before was because you’re not like the rest of them. You don’t want to hurt anybody, but that’s exactly what you would’ve had to do if you could cast the binding spell. Maybe you were scared of dragons, and maybe . . . maybe you still hate us, but that doesn’t mean you want to hurt us, either.”

  “I don’t hate dragons.” Not anymore. And I don’t hate you.

  “You have magic. We both know that much. And you’re a better person than your sister, or any other paladin I’ve ever met, and maybe it feels like being able to use magic means you have to be like them, but you don’t.”

  “You think I would have rather gotten married to some random old man than be a paladin? That it was a choice?”

  “No. Not at all. I don’t think you want either of those things, though. Magic isn’t about wanting it enough, and it never will be. But it is about knowing what you want.”

  Too bad I don’t know what that is. But I think I see his point. And the idea that I don’t have to be a paladin, that I don’t have to live up to Celeste, is, well, pretty freeing. “Okay, I’ll try the spell. For reals this time.”

  “Right. For reals this time.” He doesn’t sound too happy about that.

  I look into his eyes, trying to remember how it felt when I used my magic before. I think about the binding spell, imagining a dragon ring around his neck. But even just the thought of him suffering like that again makes my stomach clench, and I realize that isn’t going to work.

  But he needs me to be able to do this. We both do. So instead I think about how I would never let Celeste or Torrin—or anyone—torture him again. I think about how much I want to punch his father in the face for never letting him go to the Feast of Eventide and for acting like he’s not good enough. I can’t punch any dragons, but I can learn to cast this spell and maybe keep him safe.

  My hands tingle worse than if they’d fallen asleep, and a bright flash of red bursts from my palms. The smell of sulfur fills the air. And Amelrik’s right—this would have totally stunk up his room.

  Not that I care, because I just cast the binding spell. A thrill runs down my spine. “I did it! Take that, um . . . world!”

  Amelrik’s face looks pale. I thought he’d be happy, but maybe he just doesn’t like being bound again. He said it didn’t hurt the same way as the dragon ring, not that it didn’t hurt at all.

  “I don’t think it worked,” he says.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t feel anything.”

  “But I cast something.” I can still smell it. “Didn’t I? Don’t tell me that was just a really big spark.”

  “The point of this was to practice. You don’t have to get it on your first try.”

  “Maybe it did work, though. Go ahead. Try and change forms.”

  “I don’t need to. I know it didn’t.”

  “You said the whole point of this was so we could know for sure. This was my first binding spell—it could just be really weak and that’s why you don’t think it worked. And it might only last a little while, so we don’t have time to argue about it.”

  “But I—”

  “No.” I put my hands on my hips. “This is the first time I’ve ever even come close to casting this, and we are going to find out if I did it or not.”

  “Okay.” He squeezes his eyes closed real quick, then opens them again. He starts to take his shirt off.

  “Whoa. What are you doing? I said transform, not get naked.”

  “I’m not. It’s just . . . my wings.”

  Oh, right. I remember last time how they ripped through his clothes.

  He pulls his shirt over his head, and despite how much time we’ve spent together, and despite how little clothing everyone else wears around here, this is the first time I’ve seen him without it.

  This is the first time I’ve seen how muscular his arms are, or gotten a good look at the way his neck meets his shoulders, or at how his collarbone sticks out, creating a hollow space behind it.

  Erg. It’s great that he actually got me to cast magic and all, but why couldn’t he have brought me out here to kiss me?

  There’s the sound of flesh ripping and changing, though it’s not as loud or as involved as with the other dragons. His eyes turn yellow. Dark scales spread down his neck and along his sides, stopping just above his hips. Dark wings jut out from his back.

  “It didn’t work,” he says, his voice a whisper.

  I take a step closer to him.

  He practically stumbles backward to keep the distance between us, holding up a clawed hand to ward me off. “Don’t.”

  “I won’t . . . I won’t touch you.”

  His eyes search mine, like he doesn’t believe me, or like maybe he’s afraid to.

  This is the boy whose bed I share. Who sleeps next to me, barely an arm’s length away. And now he’s terrified to let me anywhere near him.

  I just want to look. I want to do it without fear or revulsion, to make up for the shock he saw on my face last time. Because I bet everyone else in the world who’s ever seen him like this had that same reaction, and I wish . . . I wish I’d been the exception. I wish I could take it back.

  His eyes are so different—it’s hard to see him as the same person. If he’d kissed me while he was like this, would I have still melted inside? Would I have been able to go along with it, or would I have freaked out?

  I remember how safe I felt when I woke up with his arm around me. But now I imagine it with scales, and what I feel is a twinge of horror.

  Amelrik changes back into human form, wrapping his arms around himself and turning away from me. He puts his shirt back on, and I study the sharpness of his shoulder blades, thinking about how only moments ago he had wings.

  26

  IT’S LIKE YOU WANT ME TO MURDER YOU

  I wake up early one morning—or maybe I should say I’m woken up—because someone is moving around the room, picking things up and setting them back down again, and generally making a lot of noise. I open my eyes just enough to see that it’s Amelrik, then decide to go back to sleep. And even though the lamps are lit, and even though I can’t actually tell what time it is, I’m pretty sure that it’s too early for either of us to be awake yet.

  He must have noticed me stir, though, because as soon as I close my eyes, he practically jumps onto the bed. “Virginia?” He shakes my shoulder. “Hey, Virginia. Are you awake?”

  I pretend to be asleep. I’m starting to suspect that he was making all that noise on purpose. You’d think that after living together for two weeks he’d know better than that. Virginia St. George does not get up early.

  “Come on, Virginia. I know you’re not asleep.”

  I keep my eyes closed. “If you know that, then why are you asking? It’s like you want me to murder you.”

  “No, it’s like I want you to wake up and see the present I got you.”

  “Present?” Why didn’t he lead with that? And did I say Virginia St. George doesn’t get up early? What I meant was, Virginia St. George doesn’t get up early without a good reason. I sit up and rub the crud out of my eyes. “My birthday was over a week ago.” Not that I’m complaining.

  “Yeah, I know, but this wasn’t out then.” He hands me a book.

  My heart leaps when I see the title: Princess Mysteries #7—The Gentleman’s Curse. “Whoa! Where did you . . . How did you get this?”

  “There’s a to
wn, not that far from here. The general store opens early, and they carry books.”

  If he’s talking about the town we saw from the cliff, “not that far from here” isn’t how I’d describe it. Especially not this early in the morning. “So, you walked there? How long have you been up?”

  “A few hours. I knew it came out today, and I . . . I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did that for me?”

  He shrugs and looks away. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Except that it kind of is. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “If I’d waited, they might have been sold out. They only had two copies. And by the time they got more, you might not have been here. I thought I could read it, too, and we could find out who she marries and get a chance to talk about it before we rescue your sister and you have to go back home. But if you don’t want it . . .” He starts to take the book back.

  I hold on to it, hugging it to my chest. “No, I do! I do want it!”

  He seems relieved. “Okay. Good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’d think no one had ever given you a present before.”

  More like no one’s ever put this much effort into it before. Not that I’m going to tell him that. “Just don’t be surprised when she marries Orlando.”

  “Uh, no, she has to marry the prince.”

  “You’re too biased.”

  “And you’re not? How am I too biased?”

  “Because you’re a prince.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I’m also an outlaw. Though I guess I wasn’t a bandit, and I’ve never solved any mysteries.”

  “You know what? I don’t even need to read this book, because I know in my heart how it’s going to end. So there.”

  “Well, if you’re not going to read it—”

  I push his hand away, keeping my grip on the book. “I didn’t say that. I just said I didn’t need to. Of course I’m going to read it. Don’t be so grabby.”

  “Okay. But as soon as you put it down, it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn for what?” I bring the book up to my nose and inhale, breathing in that new-book smell.

  “To read. We’ll switch off. That way neither of us gets too far ahead.”

  “All right. But you’re not allowed to finish it before me.”

  He holds up his hands, like that thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

  I open the book, resisting the urge to flip through it, in case I accidentally catch any spoilers. “How about we go practice magic today, too?”

  “Um.”

  “It’s been a week and a half.” We only practiced it that once, and it’s not like I succeeded. And I know I was reluctant about it at first, but since I actually got some results, I kind of want to keep at it. But every time I bring it up, he makes an excuse.

  “I . . . can’t. I’m busy today.”

  “Really?”

  “My father’s having a court meeting later that I have to attend.”

  Sure he is. “This was your idea, you know. What about all that stuff you said about me needing to learn this to save our lives?”

  He picks up a tiny feather that worked its way out of the mattress and twirls it between his fingers. “I know it’s been a while, but I can’t help it if I’m busy.”

  “It’s funny how you’re only ever busy when I bring up practicing magic. But you don’t have to attend court or whatever until later, right? So we could go practice right now.”

  “I don’t think—”

  I hold up the book. “I’d even let you go first.”

  He hesitates, obviously tempted. “I don’t want to risk stinking like magic in front of my father and the court. It would raise too many questions.”

  “Is that the only reason?” We both know it’s not. I try to look him in the eyes, but he avoids me.

  He yawns. “I also need to take a nap first.”

  Well, that part I believe, at least. I kind of want to go back to sleep myself, but there’s no way I’m not starting this book right this second. I turn the pages until I find the first chapter.

  Amelrik lies down next to me, not even bothering to get under the covers. He no longer makes sure he’s as far away from me as possible, and I can’t deny that we’ve gotten more comfortable with each other. I guess that’s inevitable when you’re sharing a bed with someone—or so I assume, since it’s not like I have a lot of experience with it—but I don’t know if it’s a good thing, because it’s kind of all I can do not to reach out and smooth the hair away from his face, or run my hand down his back, or something else equally embarrassing and inappropriate.

  I settle for “accidentally” letting my foot touch his leg, but then I chicken out and move it back to my side of the bed, even though he showed no signs of noticing.

  “Hey, Amelrik?”

  “Mmm.” He sounds like he’s half asleep already.

  “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me. Going so far out of their way like that, to get me something I really wanted. So . . . thanks.”

  His eyes stay closed, but he smiles and mumbles something that sounds like “Don’t mention it.”

  I wait until his breathing is deep and even, and then I let my foot touch his leg again, and this time I leave it there.

  27

  SORRY DOESN’T BRING BACK PLOT TWISTS

  “I hope you’re happy,” I tell Amelrik. “Since you got what you wanted.” It’s the next day and we’re walking through the tunnels, on our way to get lunch. We’re both about halfway through the book, though he’s a little farther than me. In the part I just read, Princess Genevieve actually married Prince Liam.

  He grins. “Don’t blame me. It’s not like I made it happen.”

  Two children in dragon form are chasing each other through the tunnel, one of them snapping at the heels of the other, not paying attention to where they’re going. They run into an adult dragon, who chews them out in Vairlin, until they duck their heads and slink away quietly.

  “I really thought Orlando was going to stop the wedding. That whole scene, I kept waiting for him to show up.”

  “He’s wanted for murder. What was he supposed to do?”

  “He’s been wrongly accused.” He was with the princess at the time of the murder, but since it would have ruined her reputation if she vouched for him and admitted they were alone together the night before her wedding, he took the fall. “And I wanted him to show up, anyway. It’s not fair.”

  “Well, don’t think I got what I wanted. Them getting married in the middle of the book means something bad’s still going to happen.”

  “Like that she’s going to come to her senses and leave him for Orlando? Once she proves his innocence. He’s the love of her life.”

  He snorts. “Hardly.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t care who she ended up with? As long as the series kept going?”

  “I changed my mind. She and Liam are perfect for each other. She can tell him anything.”

  “Or he’s just a really good friend.”

  “Why can’t he be both? Like, when she tells him about the baby, and he knows it couldn’t be his, but he says he’s going to love it anyway?”

  “What?”

  “I’m just saying he’s committed. Genevieve needs that, especially after that scene where she caught her father with one of the maids and her whole idea of marriage was shaken.”

  “What?”

  “Because she found out it’s been going on for years, and her mother knew about it the whole time? You can’t blame her for feeling like she’s . . . Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I haven’t read that far!”

  “Yes, you have. You’re ahead of me.” He hesitates. “Aren’t you?”

  “I think I’d remember this stuff! I can’t believe you just spoiled it!”

  A couple of dragons turn their heads when I start shouting, their eyes flashing green in the torchlight.

  “Sorry. I thought you already
knew. And it’s not like the pregnancy thing was a secret, since it was heavily hinted at in the opening chapters.”

  “Hinted at. Not for sure! And you don’t get to defend yourself right now. I mean, seriously!” I turn away from him and head down a side tunnel.

  He hurries after me. “It was an accident! And where are you going?”

  “To lunch. I’m taking the long route. By myself. You can meet me there.”

  “Come on, Virginia. Don’t be mad.”

  “Too late.”

  “I said I was sorry!”

  “‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring back plot twists!” I turn down the next tunnel, just to try and put some distance between us. I’m still learning my way around this place, but I’m pretty sure it will reconnect with the main path that leads to the kitchens.

  “Virginia, wait!” He’s stopped following me, staying at the opening to the tunnel, like there’s an invisible wall keeping him out. “I can’t go down there.”

  “Great, because you’re not invited.”

  “No, that’s . . . We can’t go down there.”

  “Still not hearing a problem.” Other than that he doesn’t want me to be mad at him, but he should have thought of that before he spoiled so much stuff. This tunnel isn’t even guarded, and there’s nothing here, so if he wants me to turn around, he’s going to have to give me a better reason than “can’t.”

  The tunnel twists to the right, so that now I can’t even see him when I look over my shoulder. Meaning I’m completely alone, because there’s no one else using this passageway. Which makes me think maybe it doesn’t connect after all, but if that was the case, why didn’t he just say so? Either way, I’m not going to turn back now—not after I made such a big deal about it.

  But maybe I am slightly relieved when Amelrik catches up to me, because this tunnel’s getting kind of creepy, and I could swear the torches are getting farther and farther apart.

  “Virginia, come on.”

  “I thought you couldn’t come down here?”

  “I can’t. I—I shouldn’t have. And neither should you.” He puts a hand on my arm, and I can feel that he’s shaking.

  This tunnel is creepy, but is it that creepy? “What’s down here? Is it haunted or something?”

 

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