Gemini straightened and bared his teeth at his older sister. "Like the Abyss! Pyre is the smartest firedrake we have. I'll put you down instead."
Domi had thought Mercy had looked mad before. Now the paladin's face twisted into a rabid, monstrous mask of rage, her lips peeling back to reveal teeth and gums. She seemed almost inhuman, almost as if she herself were becoming a dragon. With a howl, Mercy swung her arm, backhanding Gemini. The younger paladin yelped.
"You will put her down, Gemini! But not before you hurt her. You will whip her to death, slowly, over days, as I sail to find the weredragons. I expect a coat of her scales when I return. If I learn from the soldiers that you gave Pyre a merciful death, I will have you tortured."
With that, Mercy spun on her heel, marched toward a rowboat, and entered the vessel with a dozen soldiers. They rowed toward a warship, and soon the great brigantines were raising their anchors, many men and firedrakes upon them, and sailing east.
Domi turned her head back toward Gemini. He stared at her, his cheek red and lip bloodied, and sighed. He attached a chain to her collar, turned, and tugged her.
"Come along, you poor beast."
As the ships sailed away, they walked along the boardwalk. He led her down to the beach, and once they stood in the sand, he drew his sword.
Domi stared at him as he contemplated the blade, and she tensed. If he tried to stab her, she would fight back. She could easily slay him. Her heart beat rapidly, and smoke burst out from her nostrils in short blasts.
I can kill him. I can flee. I can—
Gemini heaved a deep sigh. "You understand, don't you?" He stroked her snout. "You know what Mercy wants, and yet you followed me willingly to the beach. I think that if I did try to put you down, you would rather die than disobey me. My sister calls you worthless, and perhaps you are recalcitrant around her. But I've tamed you. With lash and spur, I made you mine." He clenched his fist, sudden rage twisting his face. "And I will not give you up." He sheathed his sword and climbed onto her back. "Fly, Pyre! Let us fly together—if only for one last time."
The sun began to set and the stars to emerge. Domi was exhausted after the long flight over the sea, but she beat her wings and rose into the air. They flew. Gemini did not lash her, and his spurs barely brushed her tenderspots, and he gently directed her along the beach. They flew several miles south, leaving the city behind, before he allowed her to descend. They landed in the sand. The sun vanished behind the horizon as he dismounted, and the stars shone overhead. The black waves whispered, capped with foam.
Gemini dismounted and stood beside her. The sounds of the city had faded, and in the distance, Domi saw the lights of the warships sailing east—sailing to kill Cade, to kill her father and sister.
"I never wanted this, you know," Gemini said softly. "To be the son of the High Priestess. To be the brother of Mercy." He sighed. "Both those women terrify me. They're strong, proud, intelligent, ruthless, and . . ." He sighed. "Neither one thinks much of me. I had a brother once, did you know? Vanished as a babe; my father stole him away. So of course my mother caught the old man. And she killed him." His jaw clenched, and tears shone in his eyes. "That's what they do to men in my family. Kill us. Abandon us. Or just emasculate us. When I was a child, Mother would threaten to lock me in the palace dungeon, to leave me to rot. She'd take me to that dungeon sometimes, show me the tortured prisoners, threaten to leave me there."
Sudden pity filled Domi, and she gurgled softly and nestled him with her snout. She hated Gemini. She hated him with a passion. Yet now she pitied him too, for he seemed pathetic to her.
"You do understand, don't you?" Gemini said. "They treat you the same way. We're both only animals to my mother and sister. Do you think they ever invite me to their councils? Ever discuss the Falling with me, or the military strategy against the Horde, or plan the hunts of the weredragons? No. They stick me in a bedroom, and they send women in, and they stud me. That's all I am to them—a stud, an animal to breed other animals, no better than a firedrake. All because I was born naturally pure."
Domi imagined that most men would envy this life—to live in a palace, bedding one woman after another—but she only grunted and puffed out a little smoke.
"And the one woman I actually loved," Gemini continued, voice torn with pain. "The one woman I ever chose for myself, ever dared to truly love . . . they . . . oh Spirit, they grabbed her, and . . ."
He fell silent and lowered his head, too overcome to speak.
Domi nuzzled him, cooing softly. Gemini—loving a woman? It seemed impossible to Domi. What woman had caused the paladin such pain?
For long moments Gemini seemed unable to speak. He stood silently, clenching his fists. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Finally he raised his head and looked back at Domi.
"And now Mercy wants me to put you down," he said. "You're not like the other firedrakes. It's as if . . . as if you understand me. You've become my only friend, Pyre. My true pet." He stared into her eyes. "You are the only woman that I love now."
Domi narrowed her eyes, and her heart quickened. Did he know? Did he know that deep within her dragon body there lurked the soul of a true woman?
He kissed the tip of her snout. "Let's sleep here tonight. Together on the beach. I have to obey my sister. I have to put you down. If I let you go, she'll know. She always knows." His tears flowed. "But let's spend one more night together."
He curled up in the sand beside her, laid his head against her, and closed his eyes. She draped a wing over him, and he slept, pressed against her. His sleep was restless, and he kicked, mumbling of dungeons, desperate to escape the prison in his mind.
Do it, Domi, she told herself. Do it now. Kill him. Bury his body in the sand. Then flee.
She stared down at him, wanting to see the cruel master who had lashed her bloody, who had all but starved her, who had dug his spurs into her mercilessly. She wanted to see the sadistic son of the High Priestess, the hunter of weredragons.
But she saw only a scared, confused boy—a wretched soul to pity.
And Domi cursed that pity within her.
Suddenly she missed her family. She wanted her father to be here, to tell her what to do; he would tell her to kill Gemini, she thought. She wanted her older sister here, to hear Fidelity's wisdom; perhaps the librarian would urge mercy. Domi even wanted to see Cade, that foolish, headstrong boy with his wide hazel eyes and ridiculously messy hair.
But I'm alone, and I must choose.
She knew that Gemini had made his own choice; he had chosen to slay her in the morning, despite his love for her. He had chosen to obey his sister. He had chosen to do what he always did: be a tool for his family, to hate himself for his actions, to be a breeder, a killer, or whatever else they wanted him to be, and Domi knew that the pain would forever fill him.
He's already dead.
Watching him sleep, Domi released her dragon magic.
Her claws retracted. Her scales melted into her body. She resumed human form—a girl wearing rags, her skin covered in sand and dirt, her eyes peering between strands of red hair.
Sensing the loss of the dragon's warm body, Gemini mumbled and his eyes opened to slits. He gazed at her, confused, still half asleep.
"Goodbye, Gemini," Domi whispered. She touched his cheek. "I give you the gift of life, or perhaps its curse."
She turned and began walking south along the dark beach. The waves reached out to kiss her feet, and the stars shone above. She looked over her shoulder once, and she saw Gemini standing in the moonlight, gaping at her, silent. He did not follow, perhaps thinking this all a dream, perhaps simply too shocked to move.
She turned her head back forward, and she walked on, leaving her old life behind.
GEMINI
"Wait."
His voice was only a hoarse whisper, and his legs trembled. The woman kept walking away, vanishing into the darkness. Gemini took three steps forward in the sand, but he was too dizzy to keep walking, too shocked. He
fell to his knees, and the waves splashed around him. He reached out to the young woman.
"Wait!"
His voice was louder now, cracked.
She froze, her back still toward him. The moonlight limned her form—the form of a young, slender woman dressed in a ragged sack. For a long moment the only sound came from the whispering waves.
Slowly, the woman turned around to face him.
Gemini struggled to his feet, his fingers still shaking.
Can it be . . . He blinked. No, it can't be, but . . .
He took another step toward her. She seemed startled and took three steps backward; for a moment she seemed torn between wanting to flee and wanting to hear him.
"I just want to talk." Gemini held out his open hands. "No weapons. I just want to talk."
Who was she? He had fallen asleep under Pyre's wing, his firedrake who was doomed to die. He could have sworn he had dreamed of the firedrake shrinking, becoming a woman, gazing at him softly, touching his cheek, then rising, walking away.
A dream. A dream, that was all. It had to be.
Gemini took a few more steps toward the woman on the beach, and finally he could see her clearly in the moonlight.
She was a young woman, perhaps a couple of years younger than him. Her body was slender. He thought her skin was pale, but it was hard to tell; grime and sand covered it. She wore a tattered burlap sack and long stockings full of holes. He could barely see her face; matted strands of tangled red hair hung across it. He could make out only a small, freckled nose and very large, very green eyes that peered at him.
Pyre's eyes.
"Who are you?" Gemini whispered.
She glanced behind her, then back at him. She stared into his eyes, and he nearly drowned in two green pools.
"You know who I am," she whispered.
He reached out a hesitant hand and parted the strands of her hair, revealing her face—a pale face, strewn with freckles and coated with sand.
It's her.
"Pyre," he whispered.
She nodded. She parted the tatters of her tunic, revealing cuts on her sides.
Tenderspots. The very places where he had spurred her.
Once more, Gemini could not stand. He fell to his knees before her, shaking. He reached out and grabbed her hand.
"I'm sorry." His eyes dampened. "Oh, Pyre, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know you . . . what are you? A weredragon?"
She pulled her hand free and took a step back. "I am Domi. That's all. Just Domi. And I must leave now."
She turned and began walking away again.
He leaped up, raced after her, and grabbed her arm.
She spun back toward him, and fire lit her eyes. Scales began to grow across her body, and her fingernails began lengthening into claws.
Gemini gasped and released her.
"Let me go," Domi hissed, halfway into becoming a dragon. "I can slay you now. I can hurt you—the way you hurt me. The way you hurt so many others." Her magic faded, but the rage remained in her eyes. "Grab me again and my claws will dig into you."
Though his insides roiled, Gemini refused to look away. He raised his chin. "You could have killed me in my sleep. Why didn't you? You're a weredragon. My family hunts weredragons. I myself beat you. I lashed you with my whip until your scales cracked. I dug my spurs into you. I tamed you with pain and blood. Why did you spare my life?"
Her chest deflated and her eyes softened. "I don't know. Because . . . I pitied you. Because I saw pain inside you. Because I know you hurt me to drive out that pain inside you. I wanted to kill you on the beach. A voice inside me cried out: Slay him now! Burn him! But . . . then you wept." She lowered her head. "You told me that you loved me, that I'm the only one you love. And you confused me. It scared me."
"It confuses me and scares me too," he whispered. "Whatever lurks inside me—it scares me. That you're really her, really Pyre, speaking to me now—that scares me too. But I meant what I said." He tasted tears on his lips. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself for my cruelty, the cruelty my family bred into me, that my faith demands, that—" He shook his head wildly. "No, I won't even make excuses for what I did. The blame is mine. I'm not a good man, Pyre. I mean—Domi. I've always known that, always known that malice lurks inside me, a lust for cruelty, for pain, for hurting others. It scares me so much, and I'm sorry. And I meant the other thing I said too." He could barely see her through his tears. "That I love you. That you're the only woman I love."
She stared at him and shook her head softly. "This is why I pity you. I could never cause you more pain than the pain already inside you."
"Come back with me," he said suddenly. He reached toward her again, remembered how his touch angered her, and withdrew his hands, but he kept staring into her eyes. "Return with me to the capital. To the Temple. I'll look after you there. You don't have to wear rags anymore; I will cloth you in fine cotton. You don't have to walk around covered in sand and mud; I will provide you with baths, soaps, hairbrushes." He glanced at her tangled hair and couldn't help but laugh—a shaky, scared laugh. "I can provide you with food, wine, shelter, everything you need."
She touched the tangles of her hair, tried to pass her fingers through the knots, and could not. She seemed to consider his words, then shook her head. "No. There's no more home for me in the capital. I swore that I would live wild as a dragon, never as a human." She began to shift again.
"Wait!" he said, and she returned to human form. "Where would you go?"
She shrugged. "The mountains. The deserts. Maybe overseas to the Horde."
"Paladins patrol all corners of the Commonwealth for stray firedrakes and weredragons; they would slay you on sight. And the Horde? They would hear your Commonwealth accent; they too would butcher you. They beat and slay women when they're not enslaving them. I can't let you suffer that fate."
Her eyes flashed. "Enslavement? Beatings? I know something of those. Sort of like how you treat your firedrakes."
The words shot pain through him. "I told you I'm sorry. I truly am—deeply. Let me atone for those sins. Please, Domi. Let me atone. I hurt you. I know that. And I will always feel that guilt. Let me help you now—please. Let me make this right. I hurt you, so now let me save you. Let me tend to you. Come home with me, and let me find you work in the Temple, let me find you a better life. Please." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you."
As he spoke those words, he knew that he meant them. Staring at her dirty, cut body—a body he himself had hurt—stirred a mixture of pity, guilt, and love inside him. He had craved to tame Pyre the wild firedrake, and more than anything now, he wanted to protect Domi the woman. To embrace her, kiss her tears away, stroke her hair, tell her things would be all right. To shelter her. To be her protector in a cruel world that would hurt and hunt her.
"Please," he said. "I promise you, Domi. I promise to never hurt you again. I promise to look after you, to give you the life of wealth and security you deserve. Come with me."
She lowered her head, and he saw that tears were streaming down her cheeks, drawing pale lines through the dirt. Finally she looked up at him, eyes sparkling.
"I will go with you."
Relief flooded Gemini, and he took two great steps toward her and pulled her into his arms. Her body was stiff, and she did not embrace him back, but he kept holding her, trying to be gentle, to protect her from the world that wanted to hurt her. He kissed the top of her head.
"Oh Pyre," he whispered, holding her close. "I will always love you. I swear. Always. You are mine now. You will be safe, my pet. You are mine."
DOMI
As Domi walked back to the city with Gemini, she kept cursing herself.
Stupid girl! You should have killed him. He's the enemy of your people. At least you should have fled him! Now you return with him, again his slave.
She looked at Gemini who walked by her side along the boardwalk, holding her hand. The tall, slender paladin showed no sig
n of his earlier cruelty. With his pale armor, snowy hair, and noble features, he almost seemed handsome to Domi, a strong man to protect her, to give her a better life, to—
No! She tightened her jaw. If she let him care for her, if she became some kind of human pet to him, she would do so for Requiem. Whatever she would be to him—servant, slave, even lover—she would use this chance to infiltrate the Temple. To learn more about High Priestess Beatrix and her powers. To learn more than she'd been able to in the firedrake pit. How did the Temple know whenever a child was born? Did the Temple know of any other living Vir Requis? And perhaps most importantly, Domi could learn the fate of her father, her sister, and Cade.
Living with Gemini, I can help Requiem, she thought. And so she kept walking with him across the boardwalk of Sanctus, letting him hold her hand.
They must have made quite a sight—a paladin all in priceless armor, the white plates filigreed with gold and silver, and a scrawny woman in rags and tattered stockings, her hair a tangle of red like wildfire, hiding her face. Luckily the hour was late. Most of the soldiers had sailed off to hunt the Vir Requis, and those who remained in the city had mostly retired to their beds in the fortress. Only a handful of men remained on the boardwalk, watching the sea.
"First things first, we'll have to get you some proper clothes." Gemini glanced at her rags. "Those old tatters are nearly falling off."
"They're comfortable," Domi said.
A hint of harshness filled his voice. "I'm sure they are. But if you're to be seen with me, you must look like a proper daughter of the Temple, not a waif." He sighed, and his voice softened. "I promised to tend to you. Let me tend to you. Please."
She glanced down at her ragged burlap tunic, the rope around her waist, and her tall stockings that seemed formed of more holes than fabric. She sighed and nodded.
He led her off the boardwalk and along a narrow, cobbled street. Shops and homes rose alongside them, simple huts of clay, their roofs domed. A few trees grew from rings of cobblestones, and behind her, Domi still heard the sea whisper. They walked down several blocks of narrow, twisting streets.
Dragons Lost Page 12
