“And what’s that name?”
“Berrel.”
Her eyes go glassy. She stares beyond me for a tense moment. “Are you implying something?”
“Yes.” I cast one last look at my aging friend. “I’ll see you shortly, Muuth.”
“Don’t go out into the sun today, Jamie,” he replies, waving.
And then I make my exit.
I walk along the perimeter of a whooshing brook, hoping it will take me back to the castle. I know I’m traveling in the general direction, Still, Grym’s brief flight to the mount where they are keeping Muuth could take much longer on foot.
Leaves crunch beneath my feet as I stride forward, hoping I don’t stumble upon a bear. I have a knife and the vial of poison Patience left me, but I don’t know what good that will do me unless a beast comes close enough to bite. Then again, if that happens, I’ll be thankful to have any weapons.
I hesitate mid-step, wrestling with mixed emotions. If I go to Siles and Adom and tell them what I know, the king will cancel the wedding immediately and send out guards. But that could be too late to save Muuth. Rhydian could be arrested, too. I’d swear he had no involvement, but he’s a changeling with a sister who’s working against the king and another who could be back from the dead, seeking revenge. It doesn’t look good for Rhydian.
What I know for sure is this: Grym is not either of the dragons they are looking for. Though Cinderrider is black, and so was Grym at first, Celeste said Grym can’t be perceived by either human or dragon after he transitioned. He can’t be Cinderrider. That means he’s not one of the rogues burning down villages, murdering farmers and nobles in the woods.
I also know the date of the sun’s acid event. The twenty-third of Haymonth. The day after the wedding. Was that one of the things I’m not supposed to tell Siles and Adom? My stomach sinks. With Grym’s ability, I’ll never know for sure if he’s listening or not. If I’m not certain it is safe to share, I shouldn’t say anything. Muuth’s life hangs on the line. But Adom, Siles and Rhydian are also in danger. If I can’t tell them that another sun’s acid is coming in a fortnight, they won’t be prepared. They could be caught up in the fog and turn to stone. My stomach rolls. No matter what I do, someone will be in jeopardy.
Can I free Muuth myself? Somehow, I doubt it. Celeste and Grym wouldn’t have brought me to him if they weren’t reasonably confident they could keep him. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Grym will be attached to me like sap on a tree from now on. He could even be following me this moment. I glance over my shoulder. The hairs at the back of my neck prick up. There’s just no way be certain he’s not.
Hours later, and the castle still isn’t in sight. I’m convinced I’m going the right direction, but in the dense forest there are no obvious visual cues to give me guidance or comfort. I settle into a break-neck pace, nervous about what Adom and Siles will do if they find me missing. They’ll ply me for information, and I’ve never been wonderful at lying.
Then I hear the rustling. The branches cackle and moan, and only steps beside me something explodes from a shrub. The something looks large enough to be a bear; my throat sinks to my knees. No. Bigger. I reach for my knife as gnarled wings unfold high above.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I say quickly, and on instinct my words are in dragon tongue.
The dragon freezes. It looms over me, three times my size, and then it cranes its neck into a sort of curly-cue and bends abnormally until it is eye level with me. Its deep purple scales click and clink like fine dishware clattering in Longley’s kitchen. Cat-like eyes measure me, intense and unreadable. The stare is simultaneously bright as if pleased and…disapproving.
“Who are you?” I ask boldly.
The dragon growls, and my confidence falters. I take a step back. It bounds over me, barely missing my head with its hind claws by several inches. Then it is gone, dodging between two trees and out of sight. Why didn’t it talk to me? Why didn’t it scorch me? My toes itch to follow it, to warn him or her of the danger he was in, but then again I don’t know if this is Lord Darton’s killer, the creature who burned Lord Faigen. Some people don’t deserve to be saved.
That sounds like Celeste’s thinking. Like Muuth’s thinking. Like Adom, Siles, and Rhydian’s father. Am I going to assume the worst of this dragon, this person, before I’ve ever met him or her? Maybe it’s a changeling like Rhydian, confused and in denial. It isn’t my job to judge. I start after the dragon.
Whoosh. The dragon reemerges from the shadows and circles me. I step away. There’s something in its mouth. I wish Celeste had at least equipped me with a lantern. The dragon leans forward and nuzzles me on the shoulder. The thing it carries falls into my open arms.
I accept the bag and after seconds of the dragon staring intently at me, I open it. Instead, I find four objects. A bow. A quiver and arrows. A dress altered so that it ends in pants. A tin that is no doubt filled with medicines and herbs. I look up.
“Patience.”
And then she changes.
THIRTEEN
Hunter
I felt awful the moment I left you, but then that Lord Taggart needed me again and by the time I went back to the room you were gone,” says Patience, hugging her knees together as we sit by the brook and nibble on a tin of ginger mint biscuits. “I shouldn’t have stomped away like that. It was not…” She lowers her head. “It was not professional.”
Her words and her mournful expression are so pathetic I can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes my throat. I slap a hand over my mouth, instantly embarrassed.
She glowers at me. “What?”
“You don’t have to be professional with me, Patience. We’re friends. You had something...incredible to tell me and I wasn’t listening. I’m sorry for being such a dunderhead.”
“And I’m sorry for not telling you straightaway. Especially after I demanded honesty from you.”
“It’s not exactly easy to say, I’m an incredible healer during the day, and an amazing swordsman in the evening, and in my spare time I’m a clever hunter and oh, also, I’m a dragon.”
“You really think I’m all those things?” She lifts her head, laughing. Then shakes her head in wonderment. “You are taking this much better than I had imagined.”
“Does Ryrick know?” I ask.
She plants her chin on her knees. “Of course he knows. Ryrick knows everything.”
My cheerful mood dissolves into gloom. “It isn’t the most shocking revelation of the past two days.” My eyes dart nervously over my shoulder, peering into the foliage. Grym is out there, somewhere, watching. Is he with me now? Does he now know about Patience? My heart turns to ice. If Patience is in danger because of me, I have to warn her. Even if it means risking Muuth’s life.
“There’s no one out there,” she says, as if reading my mind. “You’re safe.”
I turn back to her. “How do you know?”
She taps at her nose. “All dragons have a keen sense of smell but mine is better than most. I think all changelings have a unique ability, and mine is tracking.” She smiles. “That’s how I found you. I panicked when you weren’t in the king’s chambers when I went looking for you. So I followed my nose and found you’d gone through a secret entrance and came out at Lady Celeste’s bedroom.”
“So you use your sense of smell to track?”
“Yes. It’s almost like a second vision. I can smell a single raindrop over there, on the third leaf, second branch of that tree. There’s a rabbit in an underground burrow directly to your left.”
“Can you smell dragons?”
“They have a scent like mildew and wet springs and clay. It is very pungent. I can smell them from a mile away.” She looks at me curiously. “Is there a particular dragon you’re afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of dragons,” I say. “But there’
s one who’s threatening the life of a friend. He’s working with Lady Celeste, and the two plan to unseat King Siles and Count Malandre.” Saying all this aloud makes me feel like I am betraying the king and Adom, until I remind myself that I haven’t said anything that gives them away as changelings. I trust Patience, but I wouldn’t share their secret.
“It’s Grym, isn’t it?” Patience asks.
“How do you know?”
“They were together the day Lady Celeste injured herself in the forest. I can smell changelings even in their human form, so I’ve known about Grym for a long while. But the way he acted when she was hurt...it was like she’d been stabbed instead of just twisting an ankle. And then he keeps following around other changelings, like he intends them harm when they don’t even know he’s there.”
“Wait—you can smell other changelings? In their human form? And you can smell Grym even though he’s invisible?” Adom said it couldn’t be done. That he couldn’t detect a difference between changeling and human. If he knew what Patience could do, he’d be insistent on using her for his mission.
She gives me an anxious look, then takes a biscuit and nibbles on it carefully.
“You can trust me, Patience. I won’t tell.”
“The simple answer is ‘yes.’”
“How many are there? How many have you come across?”
“In the castle or in the city?”
“Both,” I say, pulse racing. If Patience knows the names of all the changelings, we could warn them before the sun’s acid event happens. We could at least give them a chance to protect themselves. Then I’d have a list for Adom, too. My mission would be complete. I could go free.
“Twelve in the castle. Ninety-four in the city.”
I blow out air. “That’s more than I could have imagined.”
“There might be more. I can’t track them if they’re dormant.”
“Dormant? What do you mean?”
“If they haven’t yet transformed, their smell is different. They smell human.”
“If you know about Malandre and the king, why didn’t you ever say anything?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know as well as I do why I kept silent. They’re nobles. Politicians. They use everyone around them for their own gain. It isn’t my business to tell the secrets of others.”
“But that’s why you warned me about them?”
“Yes.”
“And Berrel, too?”
Her eyes widen slightly. “You know about him?”
“It’s a recent discovery.”
“Does he know about him?”
“Yes. But he’s struggling.”
She puts her hand over mine. “I was so worried about you. I’ve been tracking him for months now, and in his dragon form he can be incredibly violent. He attacked me the first time I encountered him. I was afraid that maybe he was the murderer. It wouldn’t have been his fault. It can feel like a dream-state, and the denial can make a changeling more destructive in their dragon form.”
“You thought he might change and kill me?”
She nods. “Hence the lessons.”
I reveal the vial. “And the dragonsbane you gave me?”
Her eyes brighten. “It won’t kill. I tried it on myself.”
“All this time you’ve been trying to protect me?”
“I even followed you and Berrel when you went to see Harminy. I was so afraid something might happen, that she would trigger something in Berrel, and then he just left you in the middle of that dangerous street so I followed you back to the castle to make sure you were safe.”
I don’t know how it happens, but my arms stretch out on their own accord and suddenly I am hugging her. I’ve not hugged anyone but Muuth in years. “No one’s ever gone out of their way to look out for me before. Not like this.”
Patience turns pink. “I failed one friend, once, and it was devastating.”
I start to ask what she means by that, but then something else she said strikes a bell in my head. “Wait. Why would Harminy trigger something in Berrel?”
She frowns. “I thought you knew.”
“What?”
“Harminy’s the white one. The one they’re calling Leviathan.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. “Leviathan’s a murderer,” I say. “She’s the one scorching villages across Trana.” I cover my mouth. “She’s Faigen’s cousin.”
Patience pales. “I didn’t know they were related.”
“She could be the one who scorched him,” I say, voice breathless. “She could be the one scorching them all.” My mind races. “She lied to Rhydian about his sister, Siren. She made him think Siren was alive. Why would she do that?”
A massive shadow blots out the sinking sun. Patience hops up and tilts her head toward the sky. “Cinderrider,” she breathes softly. “It’s headed north-east.”
Toward the changeling compound. I realize, and a chill starts up my spine. “Do you know who it is?”
“No, I’ve never caught the scent in human company.”
“Do you suppose it could be a real dragon?” I say, in hushed tones. “Not a changeling?”
“Maybe. Only Leviathan knows.”
“Can we follow it? Find out where it’s going?” As I ask the question, I wonder if Patience will protest. Does she think I’m not strong enough? Is she afraid of what I’ll see?
She crooks her head to study me. Then she gestures to the bag. “Dip the arrows with the poison. You need to be prepared to shoot at a moment’s notice. Meanwhile, I’ll go and change.”
Moments after I dip the arrows into the dragonsbane and return them to the quiver, Patience returns and changes into the purple-speckled, long-necked dragon again. I spring up her back and in moments we are sailing over the forest. We cut through the sky. The sun, soaking in its pink and amber brine, emerges from the clouds. I can see Cinderrider moving in spirals, flying first with wings facing the heavens and then rotating around so it’s wings are pointed toward the ground. It looks like it is enjoying itself. I feel the same way, clutching tight to Patience, the wind battering my face and hair. It is chilly but I’m so exhilarated by the dips and swoops, and Hunter’s warm scales beneath me keep me toasty the same way coals do. I scan the skies for Adom or Siles.
Another curving form ripples in like an S around Cinderrider, and the two pause to greet each other by touching tails. It is Leviathan, as crystalline as a diamond with a center as white as snow. She glitters brilliantly, and now I know why she only emerges at night. During the day, , Leviathan is magnetic, not difficult to spot in the sky. While Cinderrider moves like a shadow, Leviathan is like a gemstone. Dazzling. It’s hard to believe that she is the same woman Rhydian and I met only the other day. And with her easy access to dragon scales, why was she struggling to make ends meet? Was she really the one who burned Faigen?
We soar over a mountain, and then another. The air is chillier here, and I’m not exactly dressed for the weather. I wrap my arms around Patience’s purple-speckled neck.
“If we get any closer, they’ll see us,” she says in dragon tongue.
“What do you suppose they’re doing?”
“I don’t know, but that’s the dragon compound over there,” she crooks her head slightly to the right. “I don’t know what kind of abilities those changelings might have, and I don’t want to be identified.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Let’s go back.”
As Patience flips her wings to do a hard turn, Cinderrider flies over the compound. It lets out a horrific screech, like the belt of a lion and the hiss of an attacking cobra. It swoops lower, then puffs out its chest and blasts the compound with a generous spray of fire. In seconds, the entire community is engulfed in flames. Changeling dragons emerge from the blast like corn kernels over an open flame.
My jaw drops. “What did it
just do?”
Patience lets out a creaky groan. “There were humans in that compound. Children.”
Images of the laughing faces of Odeba’s family sear my mind. “Why would it…?”
And then Adom appears from the northern mountains. The sky is thick with writhing dragon bodies and swirling, black smoke. It is chaos. The confusion, the bellowing of dragon kin, the screams of their human relatives down below. It all settles in my stomach like a greasy lump. Adom was right. Cinderrider and Leviathan are the real monsters.
Leviathan spits out a stream of smoky liquid, and moments later the screams subside. The smoke clears. The entire village is coated in a layer of ice, its inhabitants frozen in screams of pain and terror. Adom shoots toward Leviathan while Cinderrider is tackled by an army of enraged changelings. Patience dips behind a mountain for cover.
“We can’t leave,” I whisper. “All those people they murdered.”
“Get out your bow and arrow,” says Patience in dragon tongue. “We are going to end them.”
I grab hold of an arrow and tug the bow from my back. Patience dives into the melee, neatly dodging knife-like teeth and the swipe of angry claws. We surge forward as one, targeting Leviathan—Harminy— who is already engaged in a fierce battle with Adom.
She digs her claws into his scales, popping them off his flesh in countless numbers. Her teeth sink into his neck, and she rips a chunk of skin and mane. He heals quickly, the scales growing rapidly to replace his broken armor. But Leviathan is fast and strong.
Adom slams her into the side of a mountain, causing a crater-like hole and an avalanche that crushes two dragons below them. She spews liquid ice into his face. He careens back and topples into a range of trees. Leviathan bounds for him, teeth out and drooling, aiming for his neck.
Patience swoops in, blasting heat at Leviathan’s wings. The white dragon crashes into a rock, temporarily crippled. Patience drops and sets foot on the ground, eye level with the enemy dragon. Her long neck weaves back and forth like a cobra about to strike.
“I thought you were neutral,” Leviathan roars in dragon tongue.
Slither Page 28
