by Rachel Aaron
That it was, but it didn’t make Julius feel any less invaded. “I just hope no one’s squatting in my room,” he grumbled, shifting Marci in his arms. “I’m at the end, by the way.”
“I know where you live,” Chelsie said casually, darting ahead to take the lead.
That was slightly creepy, but Julius was too annoyed to care. He just wanted to get away from the constant crowd of dragons and have five minutes to himself where he could feel safe, or at least not actively under siege. But as he rounded the sharp corner that led to the tiny closet of a bedroom that had been his home since he’d turned fifteen, Julius realized he’d forgotten a very important detail about what had happened the last time he’d been home.
“Wow,” Chelsie said, arching her eyebrows at the blackened ring on the wall around where Julius’s door should have been. “I thought you were exaggerating when you said Bethesda blasted her way into your room to get you.”
“No, she came in hot,” Julius said, staring at the wreckage in despair. “But why is it still like this? It’s been over a month.”
“It’s not like you were here to put in a repair ticket,” she said, stepping over the charred pile of ash that had once been his door. “And overflow floors are at the bottom of housekeeping’s priorities. Frankly, I’m amazed they cleaned it out.”
Julius’s eyes went wide. “Cleaned it?” He stuck his head through the door. “Son of a—!”
His bedroom was completely empty. Everything he’d cared about—his gaming rig and desk, his posters, his books, his signed replica of Frostmourn—was gone. Even his bed was missing, leaving only his bare mattress lying on the stone floor like a sad, shucked oyster.
“Well,” he said at last. “At least this solves the mystery of whether or not Bob was joking when he said he sold my stuff.”
Chelsie shot him an uncharacteristically sympathetic look. When he tried to actually step into his empty room, though, her arm flew out to catch him. “Let me go first.”
He didn’t see why. The room was obviously empty, but that didn’t stop Chelsie from entering like she was easing into a too-hot bath. She drew her sword at the same time, swinging it around in the empty space in long slashes. Julius was about to ask her what she was doing when the air shimmered and the fiery scent of dragon magic burned his nose, making him step back in alarm.
“What was that?”
“What I was afraid of,” Chelsie said, shaking her sword like the bone-white blade was covered in invisible goo. “A curse. Couple of them, actually. Nothing truly nasty, but definitely enough to keep you out of any votes for the next week or so.”
Julius couldn’t believe it. “Someone cursed my empty room?”
“Multiple someones, looks like,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. “But how is this a surprise? Did you think I was the only one who knew where you lived?”
“I didn’t think anyone was paying that much attention!” he cried. “We only left the throne room ten minutes ago!”
“Clearly, it was enough time for someone,” Chelsie said, wiping her sword on her armored pants before returning it to its sheath. “But I’m impressed they were this quick on their claws. Your Fang freezes anyone with active thoughts of violence, but it doesn’t do anything about a curse laid down before you arrive. That’s pretty smart. You’re lucky the Heartstriker clan is universally terrible at magic, or this could have been a lot worse.”
Julius didn’t even want to think about it. He’d only been part of the ruling Heartstriker Council publicly for thirty minutes, and already his siblings were finding ways to get around his supposedly unbeatable defense. “Do you think there will be more?”
“Of course there’ll be more,” she said. “You just upset a thousand years of status quo. Naturally, folks are going to be upset. Now do you see why I insisted on coming with you tonight?”
He did. “Thank you, Chelsie,” he said, lowering his head humbly. “Um, is it safe to come in?”
She nodded, and Julius stepped inside, gagging at the acrid smell of foiled magic that was still burning in the air as he carried Marci over to the mattress.
“Do you need help?”
Julius was about to say no when he realized that, thanks to his armor, he couldn’t bend down. “Yes, actually,” he said, shifting Marci to show his sister the hidden ties that kept the hide breastplate tight as a leather wall against his ribs. “Can you get me out of this?”
It took a bit of contortion, but with Chelsie’s assistance, Julius managed to wiggle out of the Quetzalcoatl’s armor without waking Marci. Losing the headpiece especially was a relief. The moment Chelsie pulled it off his head, the enormous deadweight of their grandfather’s magic vanished with it, leaving Julius feeling light as a feather. He didn’t even care that he was standing in front of his sister and Marci in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He was just happy to feel like himself again.
“Thank you,” he said, rolling his shoulders with a relieved sigh.
She shrugged and turned around, placing the ancient armor in his empty closet with the feathered headdress balanced carefully on top. “I’ll message Franz to come pick it up and take it back to the treasury. Even if we’re here with it, the Quetzalcoatl’s armor isn’t the sort of thing you should leave lying around.”
Julius nodded gratefully. He was about to thank her a third time when Marci stirred in his arms, and Julius looked down just in time to see her eyes blink open in confusion.
“Where are we?”
“My room,” he said apologetically. “Or what’s left of it.”
He fully expected her to be disappointed. After the grandeur of the rest of Heartstriker Mountain, his room looked like a utility closet, not to mention he was basically in his underwear. It was hard to get more pathetic than that, but Marci didn’t look put out at all. Quite the opposite. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, looking up at him in amazement. “You brought me to your room?”
“I know it’s not much,” he said quickly, kneeling to set her down on the mattress, the only place to sit that wasn’t the floor. “But it’s the only place I could think of. The mountain’s packed.” He grabbed his phone off the floor beside him. “I’ll call housekeeping and see what I can scare up. Maybe they’ve got some spare furniture or—”
Marci lurched forward. It happened so quickly, Julius didn’t actually realize what was happening until she’d locked her arms around his shoulders and pulled herself up his body. The sudden motion knocked the phone out of his hands, along with all thoughts of furniture and housekeeping and the fact that she still smelled faintly like Amelia and…everything, actually. The moment Marci had pressed her body against his now-unarmored, undershirt-clad chest, Julius’s entire universe shrank to the feel of her warmth on his body and the gentle tickle of her breath against his ear.
“You know,” she said softly. “We don’t have to go flying tonight.”
“We don’t?” he replied breathlessly, voice cracking.
She shook her head, brushing her short hair softly against his cheek. “I was really looking forward to it, but there’s always tomorrow, and I can think of something else I’d rather do tonight.”
“What?” he asked stupidly, his mind turned to mush by how close she was.
Marci’s answer to that was to lean in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s just say there’s more than one way to ride a dragon.”
The moment she said that, Julius was absolutely certain he was going to spontaneously combust. There was simply no way he could be this terminally embarrassed, frantically excited, and deliriously happy all at the same time and survive. Marci had already pulled back a fraction, looking up at him through her lashes as she waited for him to reply, but Julius couldn’t get his lungs to work for breathing, much less give her an answer to that. Mercifully, though, none appeared to be needed. Once it was clear he was past the point of coherent thought or speech, Marci made the decision for him, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she yank
ed him down for a kiss.
It was around this point that Julius’s brain gave up entirely. After a horrible, stressful, nonstop day, the overwhelming excitement and joy of finally getting what he’d wanted for so long was simply too much. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t even process it, so he just stopped trying. It was so much easier to just give in and let his body do whatever it wanted, which was apparently to grab Marci and kiss her back.
This was clearly the right choice. The moment he gave in, the crippling doubt and self-aware awkwardness evaporated, and everything began to feel beautifully, perfectly right. There were no more dragons, no more danger, just Marci’s warm body against his own as he squeezed her tighter, sighing in delight when her warm hands slid up to tangle in his hair. Even the air he breathed was full of her: a heady mix of casting chalk, magic, and the wonderfully familiar smell of Marci herself, which smelled more like home to him now than even the familiar scent of his room. She was everything good in the world to him: his precious friend, his steadfast ally, his brilliant mage, and she was here with him. Here by his side of her own volition, just as she’d always been, and he loved her for it.
In hindsight, the realization was painfully obvious, but it still hit Julius like a punch to the gut. He loved her. Not just as a friend or an ally or even in the dizzying rush of possibilities all this kissing could lead to, but in every way. He loved Marci in every meaning of the word—had done so for a very long time if he was honest—and that sudden, all-encompassing truth was the most terrifying and wonderful thing Julius ever felt. It was also the only thing big and important enough to cut through his haze of excitement long enough to make him remember two critical details about their current situation: Marci was still drunk as a skunk, and Chelsie was still in the room.
For the second time in as many minutes, Julius was sure he was about to spontaneously combust. This time, though, it was not a happy feeling, and he jerked away from Marci at once, leaving her blinking in confusion.
“What?”
The hurt and rejection in that single-syllable question cut him deeper than any knife, and he rushed to explain himself before she got any further down the wrong idea. “We can’t do this,” he said quietly. “I want to. I really, really want to, but we can’t right now. You’re too drunk to know what you’re doing, and that’s not how this”—he motioned at the two of them—“should be.”
He stopped there, hoping against hope that that would be enough and he wouldn’t have to make this even more awkward by explaining the situation in detail. He needn’t have worried, though. Even falling over drunk, Marci had always been quick on the uptake. He could actually see her wheels turning as she sorted through his logic, and then she slumped forward, pressing her face into his chest.
“I’m going to be embarrassed about this tomorrow, aren’t I?”
“I hope not,” Julius said, kissing the top of her head. “I won’t be.”
She laughed softly. “You really are t’nicest dragon.”
Her slurring voice made him all the more certain that he’d made the right decision, but while she didn’t sound upset, she didn’t say anything else. Julius was starting to worry he actually had hurt her feelings and she was just keeping quiet about it, when he felt a soft snore vibrate up through his chest.
A goofy smile spread across his face. He didn’t care how many times it happened—and he fervently hoped it would happen many more times in the future—he would never get used to the wondrous feeling of Marci sleeping on him. It was the ultimate sign of trust, and the fact that she did it so easily stirred up more emotions than Julius knew how to deal with. He was still trying to work through them when he realized he should probably say something to his sister.
Given Chelsie’s habit of disappearing whenever his back was turned, Julius was strongly hoping that would be the case now. No such luck. When he looked over his shoulder, Chelsie was right where she’d been when he’d last seen her, leaning on the wall beside his closet with her eyes firmly fixed on her phone.
“I hope you didn’t stop on my account,” she said without looking up.
“Not entirely,” Julius admitted, praying that his face wasn’t actually as red as it felt. “So, um, what do we do now?”
“Whatever you want,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll just be here. Don’t let me keep you up.”
He gaped at her. “You’re just going to stand there while I sleep?”
“Yes,” Chelsie said, raising her head at last to give him a withering look. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear before, but I’m here to keep you from getting murdered in your sleep. I can’t very well do that from out in the hall, can I? Not that it would matter since your room doesn’t have a door, but if this is where you’re staying, I’m staying, too.” She looked down at her phone again. “Just lie down and relax. No one will come near you so long as I’m around, and you’ll forget I’m here in a moment.”
Julius was pretty sure that was never going to happen. “Chelsie, I can’t sleep while you’re staring at me.” And now that she’d reminded him of the door situation, he didn’t think he could have slept here even if she wasn’t. He supposed he could call housekeeping to come put a curtain over it, or at least bring him another mattress, but even if they fixed everything, there was no way the three of them would ever fit comfortably into his coffin of a room.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered at last.
“Agreed,” Chelsie said. “But it’s not as though we have a lot of options. Like I said, the mountain was never meant to hold every Heartstriker at once, and with the remaining Daughters of the Three Sisters taking up half the guest rooms, things are even tighter. I’m frankly surprised someone wasn’t squatting in your room already, blown-off door or no. Then again, maybe there was a dragon in here before the curse team chased it out.” She shrugged. “Silver lining to everything, I suppose.”
Julius sighed. Part of him wanted to ask if they could just go upstairs to the suites reserved for Bethesda’s higher-ranked children and kick someone out. He was on the Heartstriker Council, and it was about time his new position did something good for him instead of just making his life harder. But no matter how appealing the idea of a room with a door and an actual bed sounded, the idea of taking a bed from one of his siblings felt too rude for Julius to seriously consider. Plus, whoever they kicked out would undoubtedly take the whole affair very personally, and if there was anything Julius didn’t need right now, it was another enemy. He was about to say screw it and tell Chelsie he’d just stay up, too, when his sister shoved her phone into the zippered pocket of her combat suit.
“Okay,” she growled, pushing off the wall. “This is officially too stupid. Let’s go.”
He frowned. “Go where?”
She shot him a withering look. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually enjoy standing around staring at dragons all night. I definitely don’t like the idea of spending eight hours guarding you in a barren room with no vestige of proper security. Not if there’s a better option.”
“There’s a better option?” Because that was news to Julius.
“Yes,” Chelsie said irritably, marching to the door. “Franz and his team are already on their way down to get your armor, so stop being a parrot, grab your human, and let’s get out of here.”
Julius didn’t wait to be asked twice. He picked up Marci at once, pausing only to tuck his sheathed sword—which he no longer had pants or a belt to attach to—under his arm. When he was sure he had everything, he scrambled after his sister into the hall, which was not nearly as empty as before.
They hadn’t been making much noise, but Julius knew from experience exactly how well sound traveled down here. Sure enough, while there were still no dragons to be seen, several doors that had been shut when they’d arrived were now cracked open. Chelsie snarled at one as they passed, and many of them slammed shut, but not all. After that, Chelsie didn’t bother with threats. She just picked up the pace, forcing Julius to jog to keep
up as she swept all the way down the narrow hall, into the main mountain compound, and past the elevators before finally opening the door to the enormous spiraling Central Service Stair that ran like a spine down the center of Heartstriker Mountain.
Here, at last, they were actually alone again. The spiral stairwell was huge, open, and brightly lit, with a giant empty space in the middle big enough for a good-sized dragon to fly down if he kept himself tucked in. It was also the most direct way up and down the mountain, provided you didn’t mind climbing thousands of stairs. But while most dragons didn’t bat an eye at a little exercise, they wouldn’t be caught dead on a stair meant for servants, which meant that despite its convenience, the Central Service Stair was almost always empty. When he’d lived here, Julius had taken advantage of that all the time, using the stairs constantly to avoid his siblings, but he’d never seen Chelsie on them.
“Never seen” was apparently the operative phrase, because Chelsie knew these stairs like the back of her hand, rushing down the floors without even bothering to count the unmarked doors as she flew by. She went so fast, Julius didn’t even have the breath to ask questions until they reached the very bottom, where the service stair met the mountain’s roots. It was only here that Chelsie finally slowed down, opening the heavy, metal door to the mountain’s lowest floor with a shove of her shoulder.
“So,” Julius said as she led them into a stone hallway that looked more like an accidental gap in the bedrock than somewhere dragons were actually supposed to walk. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe,” Chelsie replied, picking up the pace again as she strode down the narrow crack of a hallway. “Or safe as it gets in this mountain.”
“You mean like a vault?”
She shook her head. “The vaults are the first place anyone would think to look. That’s why I’m taking you somewhere they won’t think of, or at least won’t have the guts to check.”
“Where’s that?” Julius asked, getting more nervous by the step.