It was subtle, and I wondered if this kind of thing had always been there, visible to me, and I just never realized it before. Just as I had not realized I was a dragon. When I’d lived in the City, going about my life in the palace, had there been witches around me and I just didn’t know to look closer? Didn’t know what I was looking at when confronted with one?
As for what kind of witch she was—and why she was not able to utilize her power to help herself escape the skelm—I didn’t feel I had the right to ask. I didn’t know why, but it felt … rude and prying.
“They will come for you both,” Sylvi said. “It won’t even be because of me, although they will be mad about that.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Kaldr, in particular, relished tormenting me.”
I asked, “Then … why?”
“Two female dragons.” She stared at me as though that was information enough. Then she added, “They’re desperate to grow their numbers. They don’t have many females.”
I swallowed thickly, thinking of Vetr’s conversation about the importance of growing the pride. This was becoming a familiar story. She went on. “And one of you a fire-breather.” She shook her head once, her gaze fixing on me intently. “They don’t have a dragon like you. They’ll hunt you to every corner of the Crags.”
“Great,” Kerstin muttered, angrily kicking up a bit of snow with the toe of her boot.
Not great. Not great at all. They knew about us. Knew we were loose in the Crags. They would never give up looking for us.
“We might as well return to the pride and take their protection,” Kerstin grumbled.
“No,” I said instantly, automatically.
Kerstin shot me a frustrated look. “I’d rather be forced to bond with one of our own than end up stuck with one of those brutes in the skelm. Did you smell them? I don’t think they’ve bathed in their lifetime.”
“I don’t want to beforcedto do anything.”
Live in the pride, not live in the pride. Bond with a dragon, not bond with a dragon. Be a breeder, not be a breeder. Live among humans, not live among humans. These were my choices. I understood that. The choice would be mine. I got to decide.
Sylvi smiled thinly. “Don’t we all?”
I felt foolish then. Like someone complaining about the weather when there was no way to change it.
“Well,” Kerstin said with another disgusted kick of her boot, “if we don’t go back to the pride, we should just go south with her.” She snorted. “Perhaps our chances would be better among humans.” She tossed the words out, clearly not intending them to be taken seriously.
I angled my head thoughtfully, considering that. “Perhaps we should,” I heard myself saying.
She looked at me incredulously. “Go south? No.” She shook her head fiercely. “No, no, no, no. Dragons don’t live outside the Crags.”
I looked at her intently. “Why not?”
She floundered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth several times before saying, “It’s not the way things have ever been done.”
“Well, things are changing, are they not? And we’re not safe wandering out here.” I motioned around us.
She arched an eyebrow. “What about Fell?” Her cleverly aimed arrow hit its mark.
My face flushed hot. I glanced to Sylvi and then away from her too-discerning gaze.
“Who is Fell?” Sylvi asked.
I shook my head.
“Your husband?” she queried.
My gaze snapped back to her, annoyed at her perceptiveness. Was this part of her witchy gift?
“But a dragon, too,” she finished. “Like you.”
Kerstin answered on my behalf. “Yes. The skelm took him and put him to earth. They let his brother go free, though, in exchange—”
“For a minn,” Sylvi finished.
