Dragon's Captive: Dragons of Rur

by Shea Malloy

  “I am within reach of the goddess’ embrace.”

  Opening my eyes, I find concern lurking in Eyin’s features.

  Her long, dark hair is tied up into a hasty bun as usual. A few strands hang loosely over the left side of her face to cover the scar that lives there.

  My rahsa is beautiful but she doesn’t believe this. She only hears the whispers behind her back that her scar is ugly. So she hides behind her hair and her work as a medic within the Andrak.

  “Stop staring at me like that,” she orders, fidgeting.

  She doesn’t like when I stare at her scar. She thinks I look at her with pity. It isn’t pity, it’s disappointment in myself that I wasn’t able to protect her from Aphat’s cruelty.

  “You shouldn’t hide it, Eyin,” I say, sitting up. I try to brush the hair back from her face but she swats my hand away. “You should let him see it and be reminded of what he’s done.”

  “But it only reminds you, Theron. You know he hasn’t a remorseful bone in his body.” She sets down her kit of medical supplies on the bed beside me. “Now enough of that. How were you poisoned?”

  I remove my shirt and show her the healing injuries on my back.

  Her touch is gentle as she traces the tender spots. She doesn’t touch the older scars but I know she looks at them too.

  “These are stab wounds,” she says, her voice harsh with anger. “Who did this to you?”

  Several seconds pass as I decide how much I am willing to share with her. Eyin is one of my closest friends. When our parents died, it felt as if the whole of Andrasar had turned against us. All we had, all we could depend on, was each other.

  We try not to hide things from each other, but there are things I’ve seen and done that I will never disclose to Eyin. Certainly, there are secrets she has never shared with me, too.

  Some truths are best left unspoken if it means protecting those you love from rash decisions. Eyin is a calm, intelligent being, but she is prone to wilful actions regardless of consequences.

  She has a vengeful nature. If I tell Eyin my attack seemed to be premeditated, Eyin will not be as patient as me in her quest for revenge—no matter her views on humans.

  “I was attacked by humans in my dragon form.”

  She frowns, but makes no comment. She produces a portable medical scanner, the blue light illuminating my skin as she assesses me.

  “The poison is slowing the process, but the muscle and bone damage are almost fully repaired,” Eyin says, eyeing the scanner’s screen. “The skin is healing, too. Unfortunately, I don’t think your Shifted blood is going to protect you from scarring this time.” Setting down the scanner, she hands me a container. “Hold this. You’re going to need it soon.”

  Retrieving a syringe from her kit, Eyin withdraws blood from me and tests it. After reading the results, she fills another syringe with a clear solution.

  She pokes my flesh with the syringe’s point and queasiness attacks the moment the solution is entirely administered. I cough up the contents of my stomach into the container she handed me.

  “Unpleasant side-effect of the antidote,” she says with a sympathetic grimace as she pats my shoulder. She hands me a cloth to wipe my mouth. Her features become serious, her voice soft. “Was the attack unprovoked, Theron?”

  I scowl. “Yes.”

  “Are you telling the truth?”

  “It was unprovoked,” I insist. “I went for a flight and when I landed, I was ambushed by a group of them.” I shrug. “Perhaps I startled them or disrupted one of their rebel meetings.”

  The corners of her mouth turn down in disapproval.

  “You killed them.”

  It’s not a question. She knows my views on humans. But Eyin does not share my belief that humans don’t belong in Andrasar.

  She doesn’t blame them for our family’s demise like I do. She has this preposterous idea that humans and Rur beings can live together in peaceful, equal harmony.

  I have cautioned her to never speak these thoughts aloud if she values her life.

  “Of course I killed them,” I say. My scowl deepens that my tone is defensive. “They tried to kill me. Should I have let them? Would you rather a group of animals who murdered your brother alive and standing?”

  “They aren’t the animals, Theron,” she says quietly as she packs away her medical supplies. She faces me. “You are. You all are. You, Ronan, and Aphat.”

  The disappointment shining in her amber gaze is like one of those Rurium blades to my chest. Likening me to Ronan, I don’t mind, but for her to see me on par with Aphat only adds extreme insult to injury.

  “I am not like Aphat,” I say coldly. “Aphat nor Ronan wouldn’t have spared the life of a human who harmed them but I did.”

  I recount the tale of the human female appearing and removing the blades, our disagreement that led to our brief scuffle and her stabbing me. I make no mention that she is my asafura.

  Eyin frowns. “She saved your life and you repay her by imprisoning her?”

  “Preserving her life is repayment enough.”

  “You are better than this, Theron.” She shakes her head. “You can do better than this.”

  Her disappointment does not abate. I dislike that she makes me feel like a child who has done something terrible. This is not the first time we’ve been at odds over my treatment of humans, but there’s something about this instance that bothers me.

  I don’t want to admit it to her or to myself, but she is right. As much as it galls me, every breath I take henceforth is courtesy of the human’s efforts. Imprisoning her was a dishonourable act.

  “There is nothing else for me to do with her,” I say. “She has a stubborn nature. If I put her to work in the Andrak, she will foolishly attempt escape and be killed when she’s discovered.”

  Eyin’s eyes are lit with excitement. “Well, since she was quick to help and smart enough to know what to do, she might not mind staying if she works in the infirmary. I can train her as my assistant.”

  “Absolutely not. Humans can’t be trusted, especially in these times when they plot rebellions against us. I will not put your life in jeopardy.”

  “If you freed them, viewed them as equals worthy of respect and rights then they wouldn’t need to plot rebellions.” She purses her lips. “You don’t always have to be my protector, Theron. I can handle myself just fine.”

  Scowling, I don’t respond to her first statement.

  “I will always be your protector as long as the goddess gives me breath.” An idea forms as I don my shirt. I don’t relish it, but it’s a temporary solution that might benefit me in the fight against the rebels. “The human will no longer be imprisoned. I have decided what I will do with her.”

  5

  Seela

  —

  After living in the forest, prison’s like a vacation.

  In the forest, I made my bed on the hard, earthen floor or against a rough tree trunk. The temperature vacillated between sweltering in the day, and chilly in the night.

  Food had to be either caught and wrestled into submission or carefully chosen in case they were poisonous. Water was sparse.

  Then there were the creatures that wanted me dead on sight and chased after me with single-minded rage. The insects that pecked at my skin or liked to crawl into my mouth or my clothing as I slept.

  Worst of all was the darkness. The moonless nights that blanketed the forest in a shroud so thick, I couldn’t see my fingers even when I held them right up to my eyes.

  Prison, on the other hand, is a rectangle ablaze with light. Three sides of thick, transparent glass, the fourth side reinforced metal.

  I have a chair, a table, and a diminutive toilet. The bed isn’t much, but a thin piece of foam on a slab elevated from the ground is superior to an upraised, gnarly tree root for a pillow.

  They took my bag that held my time-piece so I don’t know how much time has passed. I slept, but it was fitful and now I’m more tired than before
. What I would love is a shower that’s not a quick splash in a river.

  What I would love most of all is my freedom.

  But the guards beyond the glass regarding me with dead eyes in their granite faces is proof that the latter is beyond my reach.

  So I sit at the table with my arms crossed and I wait.

  Wait for what?

  A part of me still believes I’ll find justice. I’ve been imprisoned for crimes I didn’t commit. Is it a crime if I hurt someone in self-defense? These finer points don’t matter because of what I am and who I hurt, I guess. A human wielding a weapon against a common Andrasari suffered vigorous beatings.

  However, I stabbed Nai Theron Visclaud. If his father hadn’t died when he was too young to assume rule, Theron would’ve been the Konai of Andrasar. As a prince, and as the Overseer, he is an important and respected being in Andrasar.

  What’s going to happen to me for hurting someone like him?

  Anxiety seizes control of my limbs and makes me jittery. I’m on my feet, pacing the room as my indignation climbs.

  This is so unfair. I saved that bastard’s life and this is how he repays me? The next time I see him, I’ll do more than a stab in his arm. My attack will be sure so that I’ll truly earn my place in this prison.

  As if the goddess has heard my violent promise and has decided to test my sincerity, the door leading to the prison cells slides open and Theron steps through.

  Frozen in place, I watch him approach. My heart thuds harder in my chest and louder in my ears with each step that draws him closer. He stands outside the glass, facing me directly and I can’t look away.

  He wears a black jacket that accentuates his broad shoulders and fits his frame, as well as black pants and boots. A golden pin in the shape of dragon mid-flight is secured to his jacket over his right breast. His jaw is sharp angles softened by a dusting of dark hair against his bronze skin.

  In the light, his eyes are bright gold.

  In the light, he’s incredibly, undeniably handsome.

  Maybe it’s this realization that steals all the air from my lungs. Or that he’s opened the door to my prison cell and has stepped inside, his presence like a vacuum sucking up all of my oxygen.

  Whatever angry words I had for him ready on the tip of my tongue abandons me. If I didn’t feel like a traitor for saving his life, I certainly feel like one now for considering him attractive.

  He studies me, not saying a word. I fidget beneath his blatant staring. What is he thinking? I restrain myself from a sudden stupid urge to fix my hair. On better days, my curls are pretty and manageable, but sometimes Ikkon used to tease that I was a walking bird’s nest.

  Finally, he speaks.

  “What is your name, human?”

  I hide my surprise. Most Andrasari don’t bother to learn a human’s name.

  “Seela.”

  “And the name of your master?”

  “He wasn’t my—”

  “When I ask you a question, I want you to answer it.” He advances, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Never make me repeat myself or you will not like the consequences.”

  “Ikkon,” I say, resisting the urge to retort. “He owned a bakery and I was his assistant.”

  “Until the day you murdered him.”

  Rising anger and hurt forces me back as if to escape his awful accusation.

  “He was all I had. I would never hurt him.”

  His features harden. “Were you his lover too?”

  “No,” I say, disgusted by his question. “He was like a father to me.”

  He says nothing for a moment before he continues with his interrogation.

  “Did you report his death?”

  “I couldn’t. I was pursued by his attackers until I fell into a swamp that covered my scent.”

  “Where did you live prior to your abandonment?”

  Even though I know he’s intentionally trying to rile me up, his words hurt because they’re true. I should have stayed to help Ikkon, I should have ignored his plea that I run, and instead fought to protect him.

  “Yoah.”

  “You were a long way from Yoah when we met. Where were you going?”

  Unwilling to tell him the truth, I hesitate.

  “The city. I guess I’ve arrived at my destination thanks to you.”

  Big mistake. I don’t know how, but he knows I’m lying. He violates my personal space forcing me to retreat hastily. The table’s edge jabs my hip, but I don’t focus on the sting. My attention is gripped by this Andrasari male.

  “Do you know what I do to liars, human?”

  “Let me guess—you kill them?”

  It’s really the absolute worst time for sarcasm, but the words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. My eyes widen in shock that I spoke to him like that and the surprise replicates in his eyes too until he recovers.

  “Yes, I kill them,” he says. “There’s nothing that satisfies me as much as giving someone who speaks untruths what they deserve.” He leans in, his heat radiating onto me, his voice a caress as if he’s my lover saying sweet things in my ear. “I start with their feet first. Why should a liar stand sure when their words are built on false foundations? Then I sever their fingers one at a time. A liar should not have use of their hands to commit acts of treachery. I take their tongue because it’s fair that I take away their weapon. Their screams as my claws sink into their chest is not only a beautiful sound, it’s transcendent.”

  His words have their desired effect. I have done courageous things, but I am not brave enough for this monster. My body trembles as much as it did when I first encountered him in dragon form.

  “So, I’m going to ask you again, Seela,” he speaks my name like if it’s an insult, “and you are going to tell me the truth. From here on, you will always tell me the truth. Where were you going?”

  “I was going to Tarro.” I hate myself that I’m unable to face him when I speak, like if I’m some weak slave who fears her master.

  “Humans aren’t permitted to leave Andrasar. You would’ve been killed in your attempt.”

  “I was still going to try.” The pit of my stomach tightens when I raise my gaze from the gleaming floor to look at him. Whatever that sensation means or represents, I don’t know and I don’t want to know. “I’ve heard the Rur beings in the Tarro region accepts everyone and enslaves no-one. I was willing to risk my life to see if a place like that really existed.” I pause. “Instead, I risked my life to save you.”

  His stern mask cracks for a fleeting second. I would’ve missed it if my gaze had wavered a little bit. I’d like to think that minute break in his towering wall of hatred was guilt, but I guess if you look hard enough for something, you end up seeing it even if it’s not there.

  One thing I’ve learned for certain is that Theron Visclaud is exceptional at hiding his emotions.

  “Then you’ll be pleased I’m here to repay you for your efforts.”

  Amazed, I perk up with hope.

  “Are you going to free me?”

  “Yes,” he says, and my heart soars. I can’t believe it. He’s letting me go free. Maybe I misjudged him. Maybe he’s not a heartless bastard after all.

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with relief.

  And then he produces a silver, metal ring. There’s a dull shine on its coat from the lights above us. I recognize what it is when he pries the ring apart. All the relief that made my heart airborne vanishes.

  I plummet toward cruel reality. For the first time in my life, a zevyet’s collar is clamped around my throat.

  Theron’s golden eyes shine with satisfaction.

  “You’re welcome.”

  6

  Seela

  —

  Theron freed me from prison only to imprison me again as a slave.

  But not for long.

  He orders me to follow him as we leave the cell. As soon we go pass the prison’s doors out into a corridor, I make a run for it.

  In
the back of my mind, I already anticipated I wouldn’t get far. So, of course, I don’t. With true belief, a person’s hope is made real. Negativity, however, awards me a stinging zap from the collar.

  My feet buckle and my body slumps to the floor. Mild heat spreads through me and a prickling sensation runs along my arms.

  Theron stalks toward me, his features emotionless.

  “Your collar is connected to my communication implant,” he says, looming over me. “I can punish you with just a thought. I’m pleased you learned the consequences of disobeying me early.”

  I use the wall as support to stand. My dislike for him climbing higher.

  “If this is how you treat someone who wanted to see you live, I shudder to think what you do to your enemies.”

  “You are my enemy. That spiritual guidance you call karma applies here. I will reward your bad behaviour with suffering.”

  I glare. “And if I’m good, how will you reward me?”

  It’s only after the words hang in the silence do I realize they sound like an inappropriate insinuation. His nostrils flare as if he understands this too. There’s not much space between us, and the quiet creates an intimacy that shouldn’t exist.

  His gaze dips to my mouth and lingers there as if in consideration. I stand perfectly still, rigid with shock. There’s no way he’s entertaining that thought. Why would he want to kiss me after proclaiming me his enemy?

  Why would I want this bastard to kiss me after what he’s done?

  “With the life in your body so you can continue to serve me.”

  His stare is harder and colder than ever before, his fingers like metal bands around my arm as he marches me forward. He jerks his hand away as if touching me is lethal to his health, but the heat of his touch remains on my skin.

  The corridor walls are an unvarying grey with no windows, and the ceiling is low. There’s a chill in the air and a musty odour that completes the dreariness of our surroundings. We must be underground.

  Theron walks alongside me, his body held so straight I’m sure the back of his head aligns perfectly with his heels. He stares forward with a permanent glower.