The Dragon Mistress 3

by R. A. Steffan

  From there, they overflowed into a second, much larger pool that could be used for bathing, and finally into a muddy pit at the bottom of the hill that was said to have healing properties. Maybe I should have taken advantage of that healing mud for my injuries, but the small list of things I needed to do today already felt utterly overwhelming.

  I trekked up the trail to the bathing pool with Eldris at my side, aware that the silence had grown uncomfortable but unsure how to break it. He set down the soap and toweling we’d gathered along the way and wrinkled his nose.

  “This place stinks like rotten eggs,” he observed.

  “It does,” I agreed. “Still… it’s a lot better than hauling buckets and waiting for them to heat over a fire.”

  He was silent again for a few moments as I gingerly stripped off my clothing, favoring more than just my shoulder. When he spoke, his words sliced through me like an arrow.

  “I keep thinking…” he began. “You know, if I hadn’t talked Ari into leaving the mercenaries and going to see what Rayth needed us for in the mountains, he might still be alive.”

  Any words I might have come up with stuck in my throat as I realized that Eldris was blaming himself—

  “But then I think, he might’ve just been killed in some random battle instead,” he continued. “And if we hadn’t come to help Rayth with the dragons, we wouldn’t have met you. I might never have worked up the courage to finally tell Ari how I felt about him. But I keep thinking, surely there’s something more… I could’ve done…”

  Tears were tracking down his cheeks again, and I cursed myself over and over for not being able to grieve with him.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine,” I rasped. “You can’t think it’s yours. You mustn’t.”

  Eldris dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not looking for people to blame. I shouldn’t have said what I did to Rayth. I shouldn’t have hit him. I just… want Ari back, you know?”

  Oh, gods, how I knew.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  In another world where I wasn’t broken inside, we’d fall into each other’s arms and weep until we didn’t feel like the grief was going to crush us anymore. In this one, Eldris scrubbed at his eyes again and cleared his throat before saying, “You should, uh, go ahead and wash. Want me to help with anything?”

  To which I replied, “No, no. I’m fine,” and tried not to think about all the ways I wasn’t fine. All the ways that things had been hopelessly ruined.

  I washed as best I could with a sore shoulder, taking no pleasure from what would normally be a hedonistic delight in the steamy pool. Eldris helped me dry off afterward, and I tried not to feel unworthy of even that basic level of care. Afterward, we went to see Nyx and the dragons.

  Of the four of us, Nyx was probably faring the best, all things considered. He hadn’t been in love with Aristede the way Eldris and I were. He hadn’t been friends with him for years as Rayth had been. While he cared passionately for the dragons, they weren’t his personal crusade in the same way they were Rayth’s. We were physically safe now. Lisha had survived; his soul-bond with her remained intact.

  He mustered a wan smile for us as we approached the plain beyond the intricate spiral of standing stones.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, because that was a much safer option than talking about how Eldris and I were doing right now.

  He gave a small shrug. “Tired of my ribs hurting. Tired of things going against us. Just… tired in general, I guess.”

  Despite having slept for slightly more than a day straight, I could totally sympathize. “I get it. And you know, no one’s going to bat an eye if you want to go sleep some more. Someone else can watch the dragons for a bit. How are they doing, anyway?”

  “They’re recovering. Lisha’s weak wing is sore. There’s not as much game to hunt here as there was back ho—” He cut himself off. “As there was in the mountains in Utrea. And I… thought she’d be more upset about the white male leaving. She was really upset about Shantha, after all.”

  Iyabo came over to Eldris for scratches. Lisha was basking a short distance away in the weak autumn sunshine. Meanwhile, Cheen was chewing on a bone from an unrecognizable carcass. Unwilling to even touch Nyx’s last two statements, I forced my thoughts toward something more practical than my own misery.

  “It might be better to move the dragons north,” I said. “The land is wilder on the other side of the mountains, and there aren’t as many people. I’ll have to talk to Andoc first…”

  Nyx nodded. “He’s one of your guardians, right?”

  “That, and he’s also the chief of the Draebardi tribe. They’re my people.” I blew out a breath. “It sounds like Rayth will be flying up there on Cheen to speak with him before long, anyway.”

  “I’d never really thought about the problems involved in having dragons in places where people live, too,” Nyx mused. “Still, at least they’re all tame.”

  It was a perfectly reasonable observation. Trying to keep a wild dragon in a populated area would be a nightmare. Even so, the words sliced at me. The only remaining wild dragon in the world—the one we absolutely couldn’t do without—was gone.

  Thanks to me.

  “Frella,” Nyx said quietly. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really,” I managed, since my ‘I’m fine’ act wasn’t fooling a damned soul. “But there isn’t much to be done about it right now.”

  Aristede was gone.

  Shantha was gone.

  The white male was gone.

  Nyx looked unhappy with my answer, but he nodded anyway. “I understand.”

  My gaze moved to Eldris, who was still stroking Iyabo’s brilliant blue scales. He met my eyes, but looked away a moment later. “I might stay outside for a bit. ’S quiet up here, and I like being around the Old Stones. They’re… peaceful.”

  “They are, yes,” I agreed, hating the gulf that seemed to be opening between us.

  “You should go talk to Rayth,” he said. “Get your trip north organized.”

  “Will you be all right on your own, Frella?” Nyx asked. “I can come with you if you want.”

  It was a bit worrying that quiet, self-conscious Nyx had suddenly become the solicitous one out of the group. I wasn’t sure what that said about the rest of us. But despite his offer, I figured he wouldn’t be in a hurry to spend time with Rayth that he didn’t need to.

  “Thanks, but there’s no need,” I told him. “Like I said, you should get some more rest. I’ll see you later.”

  I felt their eyes on me as I headed back down the trail, but I didn’t turn around to look.

  * * *

  Rayth was taciturn and businesslike when I found him and stated my intention to go with him to Draebard. It surprised me that he didn’t seem to harbor any overt resentment toward me after what had happened. Hell, he’d harbored overt resentment toward me way back when I hadn’t fucked things up. Honestly, I would almost have preferred it if he’d ripped into me regarding any or all of my recent shortcomings.

  He hadn’t even harangued me for ignoring the plan and jumping on the white dragon’s back when we’d fled the valley.

  We agreed that we would leave for Draebard in the morning, since Cheen had seemingly fared better than the other dragons after the long flight from Utrea. I left Rayth alone with his quiet, inward-facing disgruntlement and a generous supply of wine.

  I was already getting tired again, even though it was only mid-afternoon. But I pushed away my weakness and tracked Sephira down, asking after the priestess who might be able to help with my scars. Novice Lana turned out to be a rail-thin teenager with nervous fingers. She showed me to a private area in the back of the temple and listened wordlessly as I explained the situation.

  “May I see the mark?” she asked when I was done, studying it carefully in the light from several candles when I removed my shirt.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Hmm.” She tilted her head this way a
nd that, looking at the scabs closely. “I can see a way to incorporate a dragon design, yes… but it will require a number of fresh cuts. You’ll need a sedative drink; otherwise it would be quite painful.”

  The ugliness coiling inside me twisted a bit tighter. “Yeah—don’t worry about it. In fact, a bit of pain is probably appropriate under the circumstances.”

  Her eyebrows rose, then drew together. “Whoa, now. Look—no one’s ordering me to do this, and helping you punish yourself for whatever it is you think you’ve done isn’t really in my job description. You want my help? You let me knock you out first. If nothing else, some of the lines will be fiddly, and if you twitch, I might ruin one.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “I just want it done. I’m not too fussed regarding the details.”

  She huffed an unhappy sounding sigh. “All right. Let me sketch this out and make sure it’s what you’re picturing.”

  I nodded, and stared absently into one of the candle flames as she pulled out some parchment and ink so she could work. When she was finished, I blinked away afterimages and took a look at what she’d come up with. As Kathrael had suggested, the top right spiral now represented a dragon’s crest, with two new lines forming the upper and lower curves of the skull. More lines fanned out from the top left spiral, defining long, fingerlike wing bones.

  The bottom spiral was now the joint of a powerful hind leg seen in profile, and an angled line running from the flat part of the triskelion below the dragon’s neck formed a front leg terminating in a C-shape, representing claws.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Can we do it now? I have to leave in the morning.”

  Lana shrugged. “If that’s what you want. I’ll go get permission from Sephira to make up the sleeping draught for you.”

  Chapter 21: Alliances

  Frella

  SLEEPING DRAUGHTS… kind of sucked. It had been a few years since I’d needed one for anything, and I’d forgotten how weird they made your dreams. Or how fuzzy your mouth felt after waking up.

  Lana hadn’t been lying; my chest hurt just as badly as it had after Lesimba originally went to town on me with a blade. I was lying on a low cot in the private backroom where she’d taken me, and the candles had nearly burned down to nothing. A glance at my chest showed it neatly wrapped, with little red flecks of blood soaking through the linen in a few places.

  I would have liked to see the end result, but it was probably a scabby mess right now and I wasn’t about to try removing or replacing bandages when I felt this groggy. I sincerely hoped I was wrong about how long it would have taken the candles to burn down as far as they had. Because if I was right, I needed to get ready to leave with Rayth rather than dragging the cot’s blanket over my head and going back to sleep.

  At least my damned shoulder felt a bit better after the soak in the hot springs and the additional rest I’d gotten. One of these days, I might even be able to get my tunic on and off without anything twinging in pain.

  The good news was, it was still dark. At least I hadn’t overslept and made Rayth wait on me. Assuming he would have waited, rather than simply leave me behind. The bad news was, I could already see a gray wash of predawn lightening the eastern sky. I needed to get ready quickly.

  When I poked my head into the room Sephira had assigned us when we first arrived, it was to find Eldris and Nyx on opposite sides of the bed with a me-shaped space between them. My entrance had been quiet, but Eldris immediately sat up. I got the sense that he’d been awake for some time.

  “Where were you last night?” he asked, and I couldn’t quite tell if I was imagining the hint of sharpness in his voice or not.

  I tapped the bandaging visible at the unlaced neck of my tunic. “Getting this taken care of,” I said, since he couldn’t exactly protest my further self-mutilation now that the deed was done. “One of the novices incorporated Oblisii’s fucking triskelion into a larger design, so I won’t be traipsing around with a ‘property of Prince Creepy Eyes’ symbol carved into me for the rest of my life.”

  Several expressions sculled across his heavy features before his face settled into a blank facade. And I hated that. I hated that I was still pushing him away, but I didn’t know how to stop doing it.

  “Oh,” he said. “What does it look like now?”

  “A dragon, supposedly,” I told him. “I don’t want to deal with the bandages, so I haven’t checked it yet.”

  Our voices had awoken Nyx, who’d watched the exchange silently. He scrubbed at his face and blinked bloodshot eyes at me.

  “Are you still going with Rayth this morning?” he asked when the pause threatened to grow too heavy.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “I’m just here for clothing and supplies.”

  “Will you be gone long?” Eldris asked carefully.

  “Only a few days, at most,” I said in the same tone. “We need Andoc’s input on what to do next. My brother and his bondmates would move mountains to help us, but Rhyth simply isn’t the best place for us long-term, I don’t think. The city still has its own problems.”

  Eldris nodded. “Just wondering why you and he are going alone, mostly.”

  And… oh. Now I understood his careful reticence a bit better. I crossed to the bed and took his hands in mine, ignoring the stiffness in my shoulder.

  “Because Nyx still has cracked ribs and shouldn’t be flying at all,” I said quickly, “but I don’t want him and Lisha stuck here alone with a bunch of strangers, either. If it’s what we ultimately decide to do, we’ll all go together when he’s had a chance to heal properly.”

  Nyx cleared his throat. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

  I reached across and took one of his hands as well. “I know you are. With cracked ribs.”

  He huffed, but didn’t argue the point.

  Eldris’ dark eyes caught mine. “It feels like everything’s falling apart, is all.”

  Somehow, saying ‘That’s because it is’ didn’t seem terribly helpful. “We just need some time, I guess.”

  He sighed heavily. “Be safe, then. And see if you can talk to Rayth. I don’t think it’d help much if Nyx or me tried to do it.”

  Right. Because I was perfectly placed to get past Rayth’s walls, when all we’d ever seemed to do was snipe at each other. Or, on one memorable occasion, kiss the snot out of each other.

  “I’ll try,” I managed.

  “We’ll be fine here,” Nyx said reassuringly. “Don’t worry about us.”

  * * *

  By the time dawn broke, I’d said my temporary goodbyes to my kin and trekked up to the plain with my supplies slung over my good shoulder. Some of our supplies had gone down in the ocean with Shantha, but by sheer chance, most of my clothing and other meager belongings had been split between Eldris’ and Nyx’s saddlebags.

  That included the herbs Aristede had bought me weeks ago in Dhakar. I’d stared at them for a long time the first day before making the tea. It hurt in the same way everything that reminded me of Aristede hurt. But ignoring his thoughtful gift to me seemed… disrespectful, somehow.

  I’d missed a few days of the tea when I’d been captured by Oblisii’s scouts, but my moon time had come and gone with no blood, so apparently it hadn’t been enough for them to stop working. And, honestly, sex was just about the last thing on anyone’s mind right now. Still, taking the tea felt like a way to look toward a happier time at some point in the future, so that’s what I did.

  Rayth was saddling Cheen when I arrived, checking cinches and straps. He glanced up and did a double-take, his brown eyes settling on my chest where the bandages peeked out.

  “Staring at my tits now?” I asked, feeling unreasonably churlish. “That’s new.”

  He met my eyes. “What did you do to your chest?”

  “I had one of the novices turn your brother’s mark into something that won’t make me want to puke whenever I see it,” I said flatly. Instead, the new design would remind me every day of what I should have done, and didn�
�t.

  Mention of his brother was an effective way to shut Rayth up, it appeared. He turned back to his dragon, a mask falling over his sharp features. I handed him my belongings and he stowed them without a word.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Cheen lowered herself to the ground, black scales glistening. Rayth stepped into the saddle and I mounted up behind him, grateful for the dragon’s accommodation. Between my shoulder and my chest, it would be a while before I was vaulting onto anything. I held on, trying to keep my grip around Rayth impersonal as Cheen launched us skyward.

  Rayth steered her north, toward the stately, snow-capped mountains barely visible in the distance. The wind was notably chilly even with my cloak, but at least it offered a good excuse for not trying to speak. I poked at my fear of heights, even going so far as to glance down at the ground slipping away beneath us. That fear seemed muffled, somehow. Dulled, like all of my other feelings.

  Just as well, I supposed.

  Seeing land that was more than passingly familiar to me from this new perspective was… interesting. Everything looked so distant and insignificant from up here. I wondered if this was how the gods felt when they looked upon their creation—things that might seem earth-shattering to people embroiled in them faded to meaningless specks when viewed from above.

  A mother dying in childbirth. A father falling into an icy crevasse. Wars. Insurrections. A stupid girl thinking that adventures in distant lands would somehow end up being romantic and noble. In the end, we were all just a bunch of ants scrabbling in the dirt. And to what end?

  We flew for hours, the mountains growing in stature ahead of us until they, at least, towered over us. I supposed it was nice to know that even in a land of ants, some things still loomed large.

  Since we were traveling voluntarily this time rather than fleeing for our lives, Rayth urged Cheen down to the ground in a clearing low on the southern side of the mountains so we could eat and rest. After he let her go, the dragon gleefully crashed into the nearby underbrush in search of some unfortunate forest creature to eat. Rayth and I shared rations and wine in a silence that might or might not have been uncomfortable on his end.