The Dragon Mistress

by R. A. Steffan

  It wasn’t difficult to follow the path taken by carts delivering supplies. Countless wheels had left ruts as they passed along the same route, day in and day out. I hugged the shadows as I approached a low building from which I could detect the scent of animals and manure. After growing up as a village girl, I’d never quite gotten used to city dwellers’ preference for keeping horses inside buildings instead of outdoor pens. As stables went, though, this appeared to be a very nice one.

  Movement caught my eye, and I flattened against the nearest wall as a bored looking guard wandered past. I waited until he rounded a corner, out of sight, and darted across the open space to my target. With luck, the carts would be kept somewhere out-of-the-way enough that I could find one already loaded in preparation for heading out, and hide in it until morning.

  I silently urged fate to present me with a nice wagon full of sacks, maybe with a tarpaulin pulled over the bed for good measure. I found the collection of wagons and carriages on the opposite end of the building. They were all neatly parked and well maintained, another example of the efficiency of this place. Really, it seemed to be a great place to live as long as you weren’t a servant girl, or a prostitute, or a random blonde-haired woman who happened to catch the eye of a creepy prince with entitlement issues.

  Inside the stables, I could hear restless snorts from the animals. I wandered between the carts, trying to decide which was most likely to be leaving first. They all looked… empty. Which I supposed made sense, though it certainly wasn’t very helpful.

  “Who are you?” said a male voice, close enough to me that I jumped and barely managed to swallow my squeak of surprise.

  It was a pleasant tenor, not loud, and it was attached to a pleasant-faced man about my age. He was holding a coiled whip in one hand and a lantern in the other; staring at me with consternation and worry fighting for dominance on his features.

  “No one,” I said immediately, the words tumbling out of my mouth oh-so-smoothly.

  Brilliant, Frella. Nothing suspicious there.

  “Who are you?” I asked before he could reply—taking the offensive.

  The young man blinked. “I’m Nyx,” he said, still in that soft voice I had to strain a bit to hear. “What are you doing out here, my lady?”

  His eyes strayed from my face to my bound ankle and torn skirt, pausing on the way back up. I flushed and grabbed the material together where the skin of my bare hip must’ve been showing through one of the ripped places.

  “Nothing,” I said sharply. Because that was sure to allay his suspicions. I had to squash the urge to roll my eyes at myself.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing, my lady,” Nyx said, and I scowled at the hint of humor I thought I heard in that quiet voice.

  At least he was pleasant to look at, even if he was secretly laughing at me. I studied him closer, taking in messy, short-cropped black hair, olive skin, and lean muscles. He was decently tall, but something about the way he held himself made him look smaller than he actually was—like he was hunching his shoulders. He tilted his head, studying me right back, and the light from the lantern fell on a dark bruise marring his high cheekbone.

  I scowled, and he shifted uncomfortably in place.

  “My lady?” he asked again. From his mode of dress and the horsewhip he was carrying in lieu of a proper weapon, he was clearly a stable hand. His eyes darted around as though he were nervous for some reason, and something inside me decided it wanted to trust him even though I had no worldly reason to do so. He looked at me again, his eyes meeting mine briefly as he said, “Come inside. The guards will be passing by on their rounds soon.”

  The evidence that he wanted to help me avoid the patrols sealed the deal. He led me into the faintly stuffy warmth of the stables, pressing a finger to his lips to signal for quiet and pointing to a second lad asleep in a chair near the door. I followed him down the line of horses tied in stalls, their rumps facing us, tails flicking as we passed.

  He took me all the way to the other end of the building, where a smaller door led into a room full of saddles, bridles, and harnesses. After closing the door behind us, he carefully placed the lit lantern on a stool and turned back to me.

  “If we stay quiet, no one will hear us talking in here,” he said. “Now, again, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night with your dress torn and your ankle bound up? Are you hurt?”

  I rolled my lower lip between my teeth, chewing on it as the part of my mind that instinctively wanted to trust him and the part insisting that doing so would be foolish bickered silently. His dark brows drew together in worry, their graceful sweep like birds’ wings. In this light, the purple and green mottling on the side of his face stood out sharply.

  I spoke before the conscious decision to do so registered. “I’m in trouble. I came here yesterday morning to seek an audience with the king. Prince Oblisii was there, and he had me taken to stay in the women’s quarters. I thought he was offering me accommodations for the night, but it turns out he was offering me a place in his harem.” My lips twisted. “Though offering isn’t the right word, since I wasn’t given any choice in the matter. One of the servants warned me that he’d be coming to claim me before long, so I climbed out of a window, pulled myself onto the roof, and escaped.”

  At the mention of Oblisii’s name, something dark passed over Nyx’s handsome features. “That was stupid,” he said, his voice even softer and harder to hear than it had been before. “You could have gotten killed doing that.”

  My fists balled at my hips. “Yeah? Well, given the choice between falling to my death and what was supposedly going to happen when Oblisii showed up and realized I haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen, I figured I’d take my chances.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “Ah,” I echoed sarcastically. “So, here I am, still stuck inside the palace walls, looking for a way to smuggle myself out in a wagon or something.”

  “You need to get out right away,” he said. “When the prince finds out what you did, he’ll be furious.”

  I threw my hands up in disgust. “You think?”

  He shook his head, clearly frustrated with my theatrics. “Your plan won’t work. The carts may not go out at all today. And most of the ones that do are empty when they leave to pick up supplies. There’d be no place for you to hide.”

  Well, fuck.

  A thought occurred to me. “How’d you even know I was out there, anyway? I was being quiet…”

  His mouth twitched. “The horses got restless. They knew something was going on outside.”

  That made sense. I hadn’t even thought of it.

  “And you’re… what?” I prodded. “On overnight guard duty or something?”

  “No. Rendell was supposed to be watching things tonight. The boy we passed in the chair. I… uh… I don’t always sleep the best.” His eyes slid away again. I wished I could get a better look at their color. Earlier, I thought the lantern light had illuminated a flash of green, but now they just looked brown.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like Rendell shares that particular problem.”

  He gave a little huff of laughter, flinching afterward as though the small expression of amusement had taken him by surprise.

  “So,” I began, “are you going to drag me back to the women’s quarters, or what?”

  Without weapons, I didn’t think I could overpower him, and with my torn skirts flapping and my stupid cloth slippers, I doubted I could outrun him, either.

  “No,” he said, “I already told you. You need to get out of here before they find out you’re gone.” he paused, as though debating with himself. “Look, there’s a way out of the palace grounds that not many people know about. I’ll show you, but we have to hurry.”

  Relief flooded me at the knowledge that he wasn’t going to raise the alarm or hand me over to the guards. “Thank you,” I breathed.

  His jaw worked for a moment, and I watched the tendons moving, mesmerized. I real
ly, really wanted a closer view of those soulful eyes. I blinked, dragging my wits back together as he spoke.

  “Don’t thank me yet.” The words were still low-pitched, but his tone turned grim. “Let’s get you out safely first.”

  Chapter 8: The Purple Cloak

  NYX’S SECRET WAY OUT of the palace grounds turned out to be an old drainage tunnel with a broken metal grate on the far end. “It’s mostly dry at this time of year,” he’d murmured, and I tried not to cringe as my pretty blue slippers squished in the muck that even summer’s lack of rain hadn’t eliminated.

  Apparently, the city of Safaad was riddled with tunnels like these. Without them, Nyx explained, flooding would be rampant during the spring rains. Drains placed throughout the city directed the runoff away from the buildings and roads, into a lake above the agricultural lands that nestled at the base of the mountains.

  Again, I was impressed by the Utreans’ mastery of their limited water resources. It simply wasn’t something we worried about on Eburos. Yes, some parts of the island were drier than others, but people just settled around the river basins where water was plentiful. We didn’t try to change the land to suit us.

  Unfortunately, the reality of this feat of Utrean engineering was… unpleasant. The mud—at least, I was telling myself it was mud—bred insects, and the smell was reminiscent of a dirty animal pen right after a rainstorm. That being said, if it disgorged us someplace quiet—and outside the palace walls—I’d celebrate the sacrifice of the dainty slippers with a flagon of ale and a prayer to the gods.

  Nyx’s heavy boots were far better suited to our surroundings, but the uneven, slippery footing exposed a certain carefulness to his gait that I hadn’t noticed back at the stables. It wasn’t just his hunched shoulders; he was carrying himself like someone who’d been beaten recently.

  Maybe not a shock, given the bruising on his face—but the realization gave me pause nonetheless. I kept my mouth shut as we walked, both to keep the flies and the stench out, and to keep anything stupid that I might have been tempted to say in.

  At least until we reached the broken grate and squeezed through the tight gap between the iron bars, emerging into a dry gully. I scanned our surroundings, and sure enough, the edges of Safaad glittered a short distance away to our left—street lamps twinkling merrily in the dark.

  “We made it!” I exclaimed.

  A stupid grin slid over my face. Without thinking, I flung my arms around Nyx’s shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to his unbruised cheek. He stiffened and I let him go, chagrined—unsure if I’d irritated an unseen injury, or if I’d offended him somehow with my show of effusiveness.

  He tried on a smile, but it couldn’t cover the sudden paleness of his face. “Of course we did. Are you all right on your own now? I have to get back or they’ll realize I’m gone. The market square is just beyond those buildings at the top of the rise.”

  A sinking feeling assailed me at the idea of my battered rescuer disappearing back into that fetid tunnel. But that was ridiculous, I tried to tell myself. Why should the idea of saying goodbye to someone I’d only met an hour ago upset me? It wasn’t as though I were likely to see Beshaam again, or Gladya, or the man I’d chatted with at the palace… gods, I couldn’t even remember his name, and that had only been yesterday. Why was Nyx any different? And yet—

  “Come with me,” I said impulsively.

  He blinked in surprise, and the lantern caught that unusual flash of green again for an instant. “I can’t,” he said.

  Stubbornness pricked at the edges of my emotions. “Yes you can.” I caught his eyes. Made him look at me. “Tell me those injuries you’re trying to hide came from a fractious colt. Tell me they came from a brawl, and not from a beating.”

  He didn’t look away, but something slid across his eyes like a curtain lowering. “The stable master is too fond of drink. Sometimes the rest of us pay the price for it.”

  I watched him, trying to understand.

  “If you have a way out of the palace—” I gestured at the tunnel. “—then why don’t you leave?”

  That curtain still hung across his expression, stymieing my attempts to read him in the flickering light.

  “Having a livelihood and a roof is better than starving on the streets again,” he said eventually. “It’s better than wandering in the mountains, trying to live on berries and twigs.”

  “So get a different job,” I said. “You can’t tell me there aren’t liveries and private stables in need of strong workers.”

  His lip twitched into a twisted smile that disappeared before I could decipher it. “Safaad runs on a guild system. Apprenticeships come through family ties, and I haven’t had any of those in…” He trailed off and swallowed. “In a very long time. I have to go. Will you be all right?”

  No, damn it. I wouldn’t be all right, knowing that Nyx was trudging back to the master who beat him because he thought he had no place else to go. No other options. I gritted my teeth, uneasy with doing this twice in one day. But I was still going to do it.

  I turned my back to Nyx and swept my hair to the side. On some level, I was aware that he could easily rip the chains free from their golden braids, shove me to the ground, and run off with my only remaining valuables… yet I felt not the slightest flicker of worry at baring my secret to him.

  I heard his sharp intake of breath, and let my hair fall as I turned back to him.

  “We won’t starve,” I said softly, “and I have friends in the city. Now. Come with me.”

  “Why?” he breathed.

  I tipped my head, studying his handsome features. “You were willing to help me. Why shouldn’t I help you?”

  He was staring at me like he’d never seen anything like me, and I finally got a proper look at those arresting eyes of his. I’d been right on both counts. They were an earthy shade of brown, but green rings surrounded his irises. An entire forest hidden inside his gaze.

  “All right,” he whispered. “I’ll come.”

  * * *

  I led him back to the boarding house where I’d rented a room, feeling conspicuous in my torn and muddy clothing as we walked down the quiet roadways. Safaad’s citizenry might have been asleep, but the guards that patrolled the streets were not. A pair of them slowed upon seeing us as we approached the boarding house, and I felt Nyx tense beside me.

  Thinking fast, I looped my arm through his and leaned on him, staggering a bit as though drunk. Nyx’s breath caught in surprise, but one of the guards laughed and nudged the other knowingly. With a final smirk in my direction, he prodded his comrade into motion again and they resumed their patrol.

  With relief, I steered Nyx through the doorway and let him go, blowing out a breath as my tension eased. The landlord was doubtless abed, but he’d left a lamp burning on he counter and there were several unlit candles set nearby. Nyx extinguished the lantern, which had started flickering as it ran out of oil. I grabbed a candle and lit it from the lamp, using it to light our way up to my room.

  Nothing inside had been disturbed, and my shoulders slumped as the rest of my worry slid away. I set the candle on the little table and flopped onto the edge of the bed as reaction set in.

  “Well, that was fun,” I said in a faux-cheerful tone. “We should totally do things like that more often.”

  Nyx hovered near the door. “If those guards remember seeing you once the call goes out that you’ve escaped the prince’s harem, they’ll know exactly where to come. Your hair is rather… distinctive.”

  I sighed. “Yes, I know. Let me change into something that doesn’t have gaping holes in it, and we’ll leave. Like I said, I’ve got friends in the city. They’re staying at the Purple Cloak. We can go there.”

  “It’s almost dawn,” Nyx said. “We should hurry.”

  Really, all I wanted to do—now that the immediate crisis was over—was to fall back on the mattress and sleep for about a day straight. “All right,” I said instead, and pushed myself upright on ac
hing muscles.

  I hadn’t unpacked yesterday’s purchases of clothing and supplies, which was just as well. I rummaged in the knapsack I’d stowed them in until I found a practical thigh-length tunic and breeches, along with a clean pair of stockings.

  “Turn around, unless you want a free show,” I warned Nyx, not sure whether to be amused or offended by the speed with which he whirled around to face the door.

  Apparently, I was doomed to spend my time in Utrea surrounded by beautiful men who either had no interest in me, or were embroiled in circumstances that made dalliances impractical. Or—as presently appeared to be the case with Nyx—both at the same time.

  I stripped off the ruined dress, giving it a final, sad look before bundling it up and stuffing it under the bed. Normally, I would hold onto it in hopes that it could either be mended, or the fabric repurposed into something else. Under the circumstances, though, I didn’t want to be dragging around anything unnecessary. And besides, both the dress and the slippers stunk like the drainage tunnel.

  Of course, so did Nyx. But, hey, at least he was still pretty to look at.

  “All done,” I told him as I sat on the bed again and slid on my trusty leather boots.

  Nyx peered cautiously over his shoulder before turning around. “Cover your hair,” he suggested.

  “Good idea,” I said, and looked for a scarf that would work. No point in making it any easier than necessary for the guards to remember me.

  When I was set, I made the rounds of the room, gathering up my meager belongings and stowing them for travel. Lastly, I jammed my hand through a gap in the leather covering of the straw-stuffed mattress and felt around until I found the coin purse I’d hidden there. I’d brought only a small amount of money with me to the palace yesterday, preferring to leave the bulk of the proceeds from selling one of my jewels here.