“Feels better, I bet,” she said when she was done.
She set the candle down where he could see it, hoping the sight of the flickering flame would offer him some comfort. She tried to pull Cale toward the blankets, but he wouldn’t move. So Ava released him and stared at his face until she could see what hadn’t been obvious to her before.
There was fear behind the anger in his eyes. The stony expression hid his pain, but when Ava touched her hand to his face, his eyes flashed again. Relief.
She kneeled in front of him, closer than she normally would. Then she took him in her arms and held on tight. Moments crept by before he could move his arms at all. His hands shook as he put them around her.
She’s so small, he thought. It felt like he could wrap around her twice. He buried his face against her neck, feeling the soft curls of her still wet hair on his cheeks. He kissed those curls–gently, innocently, as though he might break her. So softly that she didn’t notice.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him.
He shook his head. I’m sorry. So sorry, Ava. He had been careless with her, too comfortable among the Costons. He’d let himself get wrapped up in the dynamics of their family. He’d been distracted with memories of his own nest. He’d imagined how they’d forget about him just as the Costons had forgotten about Phillip, how Mac and Rory would play without him, not even mentioning his name.
“Were you in that pit? Is that where they put–” But he lost his words. He wanted to kill something. Anything. His anger burned so furiously that it heated his chest. Ava released him.
“Hey,” she said. She ran playful fingers through his hair without thinking about it. “You chose a warrior. You think I’d let them keep me in that stupid hole?”
Cale gave her a watery smile. He took a breath, relaxing just a little. “How did you get out?”
Ava backed off of him and pulled him down onto the blankets. They lay side by side on their backs.
“I danced up on some stranger. Made them crazy jealous.” Then she stopped and sat up. “That’s okay, right? The dancing, I mean. It doesn’t make you jealous, does it?”
“Not at all,” Cale said, sitting up as well. “You can dance if you want to dance. Now if he tried to mess with you, I’d snap his neck.”
Ava laughed. “I wouldn’t have thought you were serious if you told me that a week ago,” she said. “But when I saw T’s face….” Her voice trailed off, then she clamped her mouth shut. Oh no.
Cale closed his eyes. “You saw him again?”
“Kind of.”
She watched for Cale’s reaction, expecting him to throw something across the room. He took another deep breath, his eyes still closed.
“Is that where you got the money?”
“I took Onna with me,” Ava said quickly. “We were smart about it. I was just trying to help.”
“I suppose–” he had to stop. Had to keep his temper in check. “–I suppose I can’t tell you what to do.”
Ava studied his face with a frown of her own. “Cale. Promise me you won’t kill him.”
His eyes darted up to her face. “Why?”
“Because he doesn’t deserve to die. He’s a pig. We should just leave him to the police, like you said before.”
Cale was quiet for a moment. “So you want me to forgive the pig and the snake?”
Ava grinned at him. “You’re a poet now?”
Cale tried his best, but he couldn’t remember anything he liked better than being with Ava. It was almost as though his life had barely existed before he met her. Like he was living in a fog until the minute he found her in that arena.
He tugged at a ringlet and watched the familiar bounce as he let it go. “I knew who you were when I Chose you, Ava. I just…I didn’t know it would be this hard to hold on to you.”
Ava frowned and they lay down once more, shoulder to shoulder.
“I’m actually really, really mad,” he confessed.
Ava nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “Okay.”
She moved over a bit so her knee grazed his leg. It felt so good to have her close that his core almost burst into flames right then and there.
Ava fell asleep in seconds, and Cale pulled one of the blankets over her. He had no intentions of letting his guard down until Ava rolled over and put an arm on his chest. Her fingers curled around his shirt and she pressed her face against his side.
“Someone has to be angry for you,” he whispered.
Sixteen
Drink
Cale dreamed of Juliette.
She was crying, so much that her green eyes were swollen and red. “I’m not as strong as you are,” she said through her sobs. The look on her face was one that Cale had seen before, but had swiftly and purposefully ignored. Her brow wrinkled, her lips turned down. Juliette was…ashamed. She wiped at her tears and looked up toward Cale. “But I will learn to be stronger.” She lifted her head, her eyes steady. “Let me prove it.”
Cale awoke to the sound of whispers. He sat up quickly, his dragonblade in hand. The boys and girls who had crept into his room screamed and scattered. Cale exhaled and chuckled. He felt better, and the dream played a large part in it. It was as if he could see what Ava had noticed in Juliette the day before–innocence, remorse.
Ava blinked awake and groaned when she tried to sit up. “Every single one of my muscles is sore,” she said. “Boxing is nothing compared to this stuff.”
Cale pulled her up, and she stretched. He was amazed she was even able to function. I’ve never met a human that’s this resilient.
“We had visitors,” he said.
“I hope they took mental pictures of me drooling with my mouth open,” Ava said. “I want people to remember me accurately.” She didn’t tell Cale about the nightmares she’d endured. She’d seen Sherwin being eating by a werefolk. She imagined little Jemma being torn to pieces. And all the while, that blue dragon wearing his stolid, expressionless mask.
Cale sat up and ran a hand over his face. He had the feeling he had slept for a very long time, like everything was in slow motion. “You know what I want to do today?” he said.
“Eat.”
He grinned and rumpled Ava’s hair. “Besides that.”
“You want to go home.”
“And watch a movie. And eat bacon and steak. And a whole pack of those little chocolate kissy things.”
“See, I was right. I knew all you really wanted was food.” Ava paused, her eyebrows raised. “Wait, you eat candy? I’ve only ever seen you eat meat.”
“Are you kidding? I love dessert. Mo–Karma…never let us have it in the house. You could say I have problems with portion control.”
Ava pictured ten year-old Cale in his pajamas, devouring entire bags of Hershey’s Kisses without bothering to take the wrappers off.
“I’m sure we can go back soon,” Ava said. “We can’t do much more here, anyway.”
Cale sighed. “It’ll just be nice to breathe again without worrying about the grey court.”
Ava stood up. “Forget that. It’ll be nice to finally be pacted.”
“Nice is an understatement.” He sniffed the air, and his stomach rumbled so loud that Ava jumped.
Ava led the way out, pretending she wasn’t worried about what a Great Nest feast was like. When she stepped outside the front curtain, she was met with cries from the dragons already assembled. They rushed forward, slapping their hands on her and Cale’s shoulders. With a pang, it reminded Ava of being in the Anders house. She stole a glance at Cale. If he was affected, he hid it well.
“Let them breathe,” Maurice said, shoving his way through the crowd. “Go on then.” He shooed the other dragons away.
Maurice beckoned for Cale to come closer, so Cale knelt down at eye level with the old man. Maurice put a hand on Cale’s shoulder, a red dragon sign of camaraderie. He looked him in the eye. “You’ll forgive me, friend,” he said.
Cale smiled and put a hand on Maurice’s shoulder.
“Your intentions were good, Maurice. Just don’t try to keep me from Ava again. I would not enjoy killing you. And I mean that in the most respectful and serious way.”
Maurice laughed and put a wooden mug into Cale’s hands. “Drink too much tonight,” he said.
Nearby dragons cheered and lifted their own cups into the air. They waited. Cale’s face flushed. He looked at his mug, then at the dragons in disbelief.
“You honor me too much, Maurice,” he objected.
But Maurice only grunted loudly and shoved Cale’s mug toward him. Cale took his first sip, and all of the men followed suit. The liquid was stronger than anything he’d had at the Cave. It burned his throat as it went down.
“Are you feeding me lava?” He coughed.
Maurice laughed.
Ava watched in wonder as Maurice chugged his own drink. It looked like a small child was consuming way too much alcohol.
“No drinks for you,” Maurice said to Ava, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
Emaline stepped up behind Ava and passed her a drink over Maurice’s head. “Ignore the old bastard,” she said. “We wait for you.”
Ava recognized some of the women around her, even in the dark. They had run into the forest alongside Emaline. Women like Ava. Fighters.
“Well, go on,” Emaline said, shoving Ava’s mug toward her just as Maurice had done to Cale. “We added plenty of milk. It won’t hurt you.”
“Wait, you want me to do it?” Ava asked. “But I’m not even a dragon.”
The entire village of Great Nest laughed in genuine amusement. “Drink, rider,” Emaline said.
Ava tipped the mug back and the contents sloshed into her mouth. She spit half of her mouthful back into the cup and coughed uncontrollably, but the rest of the women had already finished their first rounds and began cheering.
It was Jethro’s turn. He stood up on a small box so that he was a head above the rest of the dragons, a torch in his hands. The dragons watched the fire dance with glittering eyes.
“We are victors tonight,” he said. His voice carried across the glen. Ava didn’t have to wonder why they chose him to lead in the council as the young dragon’s stomped their feet and cried out in response. “We have protected the unprotected. We drink, we sing, we dance. We feast.”
Another red dragon speech, Ava thought. She didn’t have to imagine how long and analytical a blue’s speech would have been. She could still hear the strange blue babbling on about his pearl.
Jethro lit another torch, one that jutted out of the ground. All around the village, fires burst to life. It was the children’s turn to lift their voices. From toddlers to teenagers, the dragonlings whooped, jumping up and down, fists in the air.
Entire roasted sheep and cows were passed around. Cale ripped a leg off of one and sunk his teeth into it. Juliette passed Ava a platter of berries and vegetables. Ava smiled her thanks, but the girl cowered under Cale’s glare.
The dream had curbed his desire to kill her, but he hadn’t realized how angry he still was until he saw her. Phillip came up beside his daughter and put an arm around her narrow shoulders. A nasty white scar spread across his face from the siren’s tear.
“I owe you too many thanks to count,” he said to Ava. “You’ve saved my family three times over. First Jemma, then my own life, and finally, by forgiving my eldest.” He took Ava’s hands in his and kissed them. “Only God could have brought you both here.”
“Or a series of the worst circumstances imaginable,” Cale grumbled.
“God still,” he said, correcting Cale. Then he smiled at Ava. “I would offer you a dance, rider, but I don’t think my wife would like that.”
Ava laughed so loud she surprised herself. “I don’t think I’ll be dancing again anytime soon,” she said.
For a moment, out of nowhere, Ava was crippled by sadness. She remembered Sherwin, his goofy grin, his awkward steps and misplaced compliments. She’d only known him for a short time, but the stubby dragon had left his mark on her heart. She knew Phillip grieved for his friend. He must be crying inside. But neither of them mentioned Sherwin. Both were grateful.
“Ah, and here is the unsung hero of the hour,” Phillip said, trying to shake his sullen spirit.
Ava almost thought he meant Sherwin, but when she turned it was the dragon who had run from the pit with her. “The brave soul,” Phillip joked.
“Cale, this is the guy who danced with me. If it wasn’t for him, I never would have made it out of that pit.”
The boy took Ava’s hands and kissed them. “If it was not for you, I would still be there as well. Dead. You have a very cunning mind, rider. And you were a very pleasant dance partner.”
Cale put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. And he meant it.
“Perhaps I can have another dance?” he asked Cale.
Cale chuckled. “You don’t need to ask my permission,” he said.
“One dance a lifetime,” Ava said, shaking her head.
The boy laughed. “Harlon,” he offered. “Of Smith Nest. And I would gladly follow you, if you should ever wish it.” He left, joining up with Jethro and some of the younger dragons.
“Follow us?” Ava asked Cale, wiping berry juice from her chin with the back of her hand. The small sip of the drink Emaline had handed her made her a bit dizzy.
“We have a loyal,” Cale said, nodding toward Harlon. “A dragon who wants to pledge his services to us until he finds his own rider. Or until we release him. Or he dies. Whichever comes first.”
Ava wrinkled her nose. “So a servant? That sounds gross.”
Cale shrugged and tried one of her berries, popping the blue fruit into his mouth. He gagged, spitting it back out onto the floor. “That is so disgusting, Ava. My god, why do you torture yourself?”
“Normal people like berries, Cale,” she said. “Be glad I’m not mooching off you and stealing your meat.”
“I am glad,” Cale said. He pulled her in, holding her with one arm, and kissed her forehead. It was so natural that Ava thought nothing of it.
Great Nest grew quiet as Juliette Coston stood on the box Jethro had used to make his speech. She looked even smaller than usual amidst the hefty dragons. The fire played against her fair skin, casting wavering ambers and shadows.
Ava could feel Cale tense at just the sight of Juliette. Then the dragon opened her mouth. The sound that came from her was soft, so soft that it soaked into Ava’s skin. The girl sang a melody that rose with each note, her tone changing to a piercing, crystal soprano, back to a thick, trembling alto. Every time Juliette opened her mouth, Ava felt like she was getting filled up with the song.
Cale gasped when he looked at Ava. He turned so that he was completely facing her, his eyes wide. “Ava, you’re glowing.”
“Hmmm?” She was almost startled, nearly forgetting that she was in Great Nest. For all she knew, she’d been transported to some world where all that mattered was the music.
But just as quickly as Cale had noticed the gold tint on her skin, it was gone.
Jethro came from behind them, handing Cale another drink. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked. But he was talking about Juliette. “Our zamir.” He looked to Ava and translated. “Our songstress. Very rare these days.”
“Seems like a lot of things are rare in the red dragon world,” Ava said. She couldn’t shake the realization that had come to her in the pit. Where are all the riders? All the songstresses? All the gifted dragons?
Boots met the ground in unison. Mandocellos and mandolins filled the air, the strings sending their vibrations out into the night sky. At first, only a few dragons joining Juliette’s song. The women danced together as their melodies rose. They held hands as they twirled, their voices twisting together and rising, spilling into the sky. More dragons joined in, and Ava recognized Phillip’s rich tenor. She cringed at the absence of Sherwin’s voice.
Cale pulled her even closer and put his arm around her shoulder, as if he k
new she was sad. Somehow he always knows. He joined in the singing and, though he had never heard the tune before, he knew the lyrics. The dragonsong came from his core, the words from somewhere deep in the veins of every red dragon. They sang it out until deep and stirring drums joined in, beating out low, soul-stirring rhythms. Those who heard it had no choice but to sway to the music.
Things are righting themselves at last, Cale thought. At last. How it should be.
Hours later, when many dragons were too intoxicated for words, Jethro stood up on his box once again and lifted another mug.
“Let’s hear from the rider and dragon,” he shouted in red tongue.
Jethro smiled and looked even more like Emaline. Ava hadn’t realized before then that the two were related.
Ava looked to Cale for a translation. Cale’s face fell, though he tried to look optimistic. He hadn’t thought that Jethro would put him on the spot like that.
“He wants to know when the pact will be made,” he explained to Ava.
There were only two steps left. The dragonstone ceremony, then the first flight at first light. Cale studied Ava’s face, searching for hints of doubt, for facial clues or a change in her posture. For anything that would tell him to brace himself for the most debilitating of disappointments.
Ava’s smile began slowly, spreading to her eyes, filling up Cale’s core. “Tomorrow,” she said. Then she turned to Jethro. “Tomorrow. At sunrise.”
The chorus of shouts overwhelmed both dragon and rider. Ava had thought that the Anders’ were loud, but hundreds of reds screaming at once might have awakened the entire planet. Laughing, Jethro stole Ava from Cale, picked her up and spun her around. Tomorrow, Ava thought in a daze. Sunrise.
The dancing struck up again as if the dragons would never tire. The food was endless and Ava began to wonder if there would be any sheep or cows or goats left in all of Ireland once the feasting was over.
“To think this will all happen again tomorrow night,” Cale said, the brew running down his chin, his words finally beginning to slur. “To celebrate the pact.”
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