Aurora ran. She clutched the heart, and she ran, scrambling around the stalagmites, tripping over stones, the heart beating in time with her own. The other dragons were screaming now, not the death scream of the first, but screams of anger, of hatred. Aurora ran faster. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw Lucas following. Behind him, the once great dragon was nothing more than a huge ball of flame and smoke, still growing, lighting the entire cavern so that Aurora could see the cracks in the ceiling. The ground rumbled, and she ran, twisting into the narrow corridor, forcing herself up and up and up the slope, terrified that the fire would catch them at any second, that one of the dragons would swoop down and roast them as they fled.
Behind her, Lucas screamed.
She plunged out of the mouth of the cave and tumbled to the ground, the rocks scraping her knees raw. She threw down her free hand to stop her fall, and little stones embedded themselves in her skin. She came to a stop a few feet from the cave, hidden in the shadow of a boulder.
She looked at the heart in her hand. It was so small, almost delicate, like one squeeze would make it burst. Such a fragile thing, to keep that terrible creature intact. But she could still feel it beating. Her hand was scorched black.
She pulled up her tunic to inspect the wound in her side. It was shallower than she had expected, and the blood had already clotted. Painful, but not life-threatening. She had dealt with worse before.
Aurora staggered to her feet, ignoring the sting in her knees and her side. If Lucas emerged from the cave, he would have to make his way back alone. Perhaps he was waiting for her to leave. Perhaps it would be safer if they walked back to the capital separately anyway. Perhaps.
She scrambled down the slope. The mountain rumbled beneath her feet, and she could still hear the dragons’ screams. The earth rushed toward her, faster and faster as she slid over the stones, desperate to reach level ground, to reach the ghosts of the villages, to run and run until those horrible cries were miles behind her.
Celestine was waiting for her in the village at the base of the mountain. The witch stood beside a melted wall, framed by black soot and white stone. She glanced at the heart in Aurora’s hand, and she smiled, a mad, grasping smile that matched the starved look in her eyes.
“You did it,” Celestine said. “I knew that you would.” She stepped forward, snatching for the heart, but Aurora stepped back, clutching it against her chest. She could feel it beat. She thought, wildly, of Finnegan, how his heart had beat against her chest as they’d kissed out here in the waste. Yet this was fiercer, a persistent, terrifying beat.
“I can take it from you,” Celestine said. “I can take it from you and leave your precious prince to die. We had a deal.”
“You said you would answer my questions if I brought you the heart,” Aurora said. “And I’ve brought it to you. Questions for bringing the heart. Finnegan for putting it in your hand. A deal is a deal.”
“Yes,” she said. “A deal is a deal. Ask me your questions.”
The heat of the heart beat into her, making her bolder. Three questions, Celestine had promised her. Only three, and there was so much she needed to learn. She needed to be careful how she spoke. “You brought the dragons back.”
“That is not a question.”
“You made a potion, using my blood.”
Celestine only smiled.
“My blood has magic in it, because I was made with magic, wa—” She almost said wasn’t I?, but she caught the question at the last moment, biting her lip. Celestine’s grin grew.
“It took you so long to figure out why your magic is different. I must admit, I thought you smarter than that. I told you all you needed to know. But you stumbled around with your prince, wondering why, why did you have such spectacular magic, how could you have such a gift? You should have known it was because of me, Princess. It has always been because of me.”
“You’re weak,” Aurora said. “You could not get the heart without me. You have no magic here without me.”
“I wouldn’t say weak,” Celestine said. “You are relying on me to save your dear prince. But I never had magic in Vanhelm before. There was no magic in the air here, nothing to draw from . . . and now I have your blood in me, your magic, for now at least. And I am grateful for that. But you will not get more answers from me by goading me with statements. Three questions. Ask them.”
Aurora’s fingers tightened around the heart. She could think of a hundred questions to ask, but she had to be careful, to gain as much knowledge as she could from every word. “Why do you want this dragon heart?”
“I want what should be mine, Aurora. I want my magic back. I am just a shadow of what I was before, and the dragons . . . they will give me magic like yours. Magic that no one can take away.”
Aurora bit her lip. She could not return Celestine to full strength. She couldn’t. But Celestine only laughed. “Do not look so afraid. I am not going to hurt you. I want back what I used to have. I want to give the people in these kingdoms the magic that they crave.”
“And use it to hurt them.”
“Magic always hurts the weak. People unable to see the paths their wishes might take. People who think they can gain their dreams for free. Your mother was one of those people.”
“And me,” Aurora said. “Now.”
“No,” Celestine said. “Not you. You are like me, Aurora. I want you by my side.”
If Celestine still wanted Aurora by her side, she must have plans for her beyond fetching the dragon heart, beyond the return of her magic. But what use would Aurora be to her, once Celestine had all the power she wanted of her own?
She had to know what Celestine intended, what she thought Aurora would be. “What do you want to happen,” she asked, “after I join you?”
Celestine tilted her head, and her smile faded slightly. “I want you as an ally,” she said. “That’s all. It’s what I’ve been hoping for, from the very beginning. There has never been anyone like me, Aurora. And now there is you. That is why I accepted your mother’s bargain, you see. I knew who you would be. I knew we would be magnificent together.” She slid closer, running her fingers through Aurora’s hair. “It needed time, of course. You need to see what the world is really like. Everyone wants something from you, and they all turn against you in the end. But once you’ve seen the truth, you will think as I think, feel what I have felt. I want you to be my ally, so you’re free to be who you’re meant to be. So that no one will ever control you again.”
“You will control me.”
“No,” Celestine said. “Why would I? You’ll see things as I see them. If not yet, then soon. Soon you’ll see.” And she stepped forward, her fingers reaching for the heart. Everything about her seemed frantic, unbalanced, from the quirk of her lips to the tilt of her head, but she looked so convinced. She truly thought that Aurora would join her. Because of the curse. Because of the life that Celestine had woven for her.
Aurora fought the urge to step backward, to flinch away. The dragons screamed above them. Let them come, she thought. Let them burn her into ash. She would not back down.
“What did my mother offer you?” Aurora said. “In return for me?”
“Oh, dear child,” Celestine said. “She offered you.”
Aurora’s heart beat in time with the dragon’s. “What?”
“I promise you, it is true. She asked for a child, and in return, she promised that the child would belong to me. She sold you away, even as she ensured your existence. Your mother thought she could outwit me, because she did not say when she must hand you over. She thought to delay, to protect you. She told me that her baby might belong to me, but that I had said nothing about taking you from the castle. She believed herself so clever, to point out that no person can belong to another, and that our bargain had no real price.”
“So she didn’t betray you. She was smarter than you.”
“No,” Celestine said. “She simply brought the curse upon you. I would have kept you in
my tower, helped you to grow into a fearsome witch, if she had let me. But she did not. I could not physically move you from the castle, so I cursed you, to get what I wanted and to reward your mother for thinking herself smarter than me. I thank her for it now. Your mother gave me such a sweet opportunity, to craft another woman like me. All that power, all that betrayal, all that hatred . . . far stronger than a girl who grew up with all the freedom she required, do you not agree?”
“But you said you cursed me to wake to the kiss of true love. That hardly seems like a good way to crush me.”
“Oh, Aurora, you are still so naïve. Have you learned nothing since you awoke? True love is meaningless. You could have loved Rodric. You would have loved him, if it had not been thrust upon you, if you had not been told that you had no choice, that the security of your entire kingdom rested on your happiness. But when your supposed love is a cage, preventing you from living the life you wish to live . . . no. You could not love him then. You had the potential to love him, but the world beat it out of you.” Celestine’s smile grew. “Without the curse, you could never meet him, but with the curse, you cannot love him. Strange, is it not, how magic works?”
“It only works that way because you made it that way.”
“Perhaps. I suppose there have been many people you could have loved, over the years. Many people who suited you. Some of them may even have kissed you. But I did not curse you to make you happy, Princess. I cursed you to suffering, to a love that was doomed before it began. That is what true love is, Aurora, not flirtations with foreign princes and fire. And your mother gave me the chance to teach you that, as she gave me the chance to teach you many things.”
It could not be true. Her mother could not have sold her to Celestine, given away her life in the same breath that created it. But Celestine had promised to tell the truth, and Celestine always seemed a woman of her word.
“My mother wouldn’t bargain for my life by offering my life,” Aurora said. “It wouldn’t make sense.”
“Desperate people will do desperate things,” Celestine said. “And if a queen cannot have a child, if people are already against her, if whispers spread that she needs to be replaced, for the good of the kingdom . . . well, she may convince herself that the bargain is worth the risk.”
“But—”
“Ah ah ha.” Celestine held a figure before Aurora’s lips. “Three questions, Aurora. I have kept my side of the bargain. Now give me the heart. Unless you want Prince Finnegan to die.”
She could not give Celestine her power back. She could not restore the witch to her former strength.
But Finnegan still lay dying in his palace, his skin burned away by dragon fire, and if Aurora did not help Celestine, if she did not become complicit in her plan, one of the few things she cared about, one of the few people who cared about her, for her, would suffer and wither away.
And what was she trying to protect? A kingdom that was already in flames? A king who had tried to murder her, who had killed his own daughter in the attempt? Was placing power here any worse than struggling on alone, allowing the existing chaos to continue?
Yes, a voice said. Yes, it was worse. But when she thought of Finnegan, when she thought of the insults scrawled on that poster, she found that she didn’t much care. Her own mother had sold her away. Everyone had betrayed her, hated her, used her. Why should she not make a decision for herself?
And Celestine had said she would cure Finnegan if Aurora put the heart in her hand. All she had to do was place it in her hands. Then she could destroy it. Then she could stop her.
She did not believe she could. But it was possible. It was possible.
“I could take it from you,” Celestine said. “Do not doubt that for a second.”
Slowly, Aurora loosened her hold on the heart. She held it out with shaking hands, and Celestine snatched it, the hungry look back in her eyes. As Aurora released the heart, some of the heat went out of her, some of the fury, and regret rushed in its place. Celestine pressed the heart to her lips, kissing it, almost caressing it. Then she bit into it, tearing at the muscle, red blood staining her lips. Aurora gasped, grasping for her magic, for the ability to burn. The power flickered out of her reach, and Celestine took another bite, blood smeared across her face, eyes gleaming. Aurora’s instinct told her to take the heart from the witch, now, before it was too late, but Celestine was already devouring it, and her skin glowed red, like the heart had done, like the skin of a dragon.
Aurora snatched at the heart. Her fingers caught a scrap of gristle, and she yanked it away, blood spilling over her own burned fingers.
One moment the scrap of heart was in her hand, inches away from Celestine’s bloody lips, and then Aurora had placed it in her own mouth, desperate to keep it from the witch, desperate to regain control.
It did not taste as she had expected. Her mouth burned from the inside out, and heat filled her, power flowing down her throat and into her lungs. The blood covered her own lips too now, and Aurora shuddered. The witch grinned at her then, and all her teeth were red, red with blood and magic.
“You will regret that,” Celestine said. “But it is no matter to me.”
“Finnegan,” Aurora said, her voice hoarse. “You promised to help him. You promised.”
“I did,” Celestine said. “And unlike your mother, I always keep my promises.” She moved closer, pausing inches from Aurora, her mouth still sticky with blood. “I have the perfect thing for you.” She stretched out her hand and pressed a single, bloodstained fingertip to Aurora’s lips. She dug in slightly, so that Aurora could taste more of the dragons’ blood, the metal and flame, and then slipped her finger away. Aurora’s lips tingled where the witch’s skin had been. “A kiss, I think,” Celestine said. “Go to him, and kiss him, and think of how desperately you want him restored. If you do this, he will live. For now, at least.”
Aurora pressed her own fingers to her lips. “The kiss of true love?” she asked.
Celestine laughed. “It’s just a kiss, my dear.”
TWENTY-SIX
AURORA’S LEGS SHOOK WITH EXHAUSTION BY THE time she reached the city. The sun had set, and the sun had risen, and Aurora had dragged herself on, putting one foot in front of the other, all the way to the palace doors, and then through the maze of rooms, into the library, up the winding stairs, around and around, as Finnegan must have traveled to her tower door years ago, as Rodric had done while she slept.
Beyond Finnegan’s rooms, she could hear people talking in low voices. Orla, she thought, and someone else. A doctor perhaps. She could not make out the words.
His bedroom door swung open without a sound. The room beyond was dark, the curtains blocking out the sunlight. Aurora summoned a small ball of light, making sure to keep the magic gentle and controlled. The flame flickered and danced as though caught in a breeze, but it did not grow larger, and it did not blow out.
She held the light aloft. Finnegan’s bed was piled high with blankets, but his head was visible, his black hair mussed with sleep. Aurora hurried across the room, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. She left dusty footprints as she went, dirt and ash falling from her clothes like rain.
The entire right side of Finnegan’s face was covered in thick white cream and sprinkled with herbs, but Aurora could still smell the deadened flesh beneath. Flakes of black lingered on his skin.
One kiss. Then he would be all right. He had to be all right.
She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Finnegan,” she whispered. “Finnegan, wake up.”
He groaned, but he did not move.
“Finnegan, I need you to wake up,” she said. “Come on. We have a deal, remember? You can’t abandon me now.”
He groaned again, and this time, he opened his eyes. “Rora,” he said. “Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”
“It’s after noon,” she said. “Time to wake up.” She sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress sank under her weight, and she tumbled closer to the pri
nce.
He gave her a small smile, and then winced in pain. “Here to seduce me, dragon girl?”
“Not likely.” She reached forward, her hand gripping the edge of the blankets. “I wouldn’t need to.”
“You’re smart,” he said. “That’s why I like you.”
“I’m going to kiss you, though,” she said. “Is that okay?”
“It’s been a few days since you did. Started to feel like forever.”
She forced herself to smile. Then she leaned closer, brushing her lips against his. One soft kiss. His lips tasted hot, like a burst of dragon fire, but then the kiss deepened, and the heat faded away, melting into something soothing, like cool rain on a sweltering summer day. And she forced her thoughts away from fire, away from frantic kisses in the wilderness, away from witches grinning with blood staining their teeth. Instead, she thought of Finnegan with his arm around her, his face close, as the thrill of magic ran through her. She thought of him lying beside her in the park, and the intensity in his eyes as he told her that she would conquer them all.
She pulled back, his breath on her cheek.
“What was that?” Finnegan said.
She ran her fingers along the line of his jaw. Already, the skin was cooler, softer to touch. “A kiss,” Aurora said. “What did you think it was?”
“Magic,” he said. “You used magic.”
“Yes,” she said. “To help you to get better.”
“Don’t trust me to get better by myself?”
She kissed him again, and it was like it had been out in the waste, like nothing in the world mattered but them. He pressed his hands to the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair, and she grabbed his shoulders, barely able to stand a shred of space between them. Finnegan was there. He was there, and he was hers, for that moment at least. For that second, and the next.
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