Not literally, no open air, no actual stars, but the way magic gathered here, bright and endless, gave the same sense of dizzying space. My breath always caught for a second when I entered, the human part of me convinced I’d fall upward.
Tonight, the chamber felt… expectant.
Four dragons lay in their usual positions, each a different size, shape, and color, but all with that same uncanny, ageless presence.
A slender, opalescent one lounged along a high ledge, long whiskers drifting in an invisible breeze. A stockier dragon with bronze and emerald scales curled protectively around a cluster of luminous eggs that weren’t quite eggs. A dark, smoke-gray one rested near the center, eyes half-lidded, tendrils of mist curling from its nostrils. The smallest—a compact, silver-blue creature with sharp, bright eyes—perched close to the ground on a stone outcropping, as if waiting for me. The babies were nowhere to be seen.
They all turned their heads and looked at me at once.
Being regarded by dragons is a bit like being examined by an X-ray, an MRI, and a very judgmental aunt all at the same time. They don’t look at your clothes or your hair. They look at your bones, your magic, the shape of your choices.
The little silver-blue one, my unofficial translator, tilted its head.
You are… frayed, it said, the words not spoken aloud so much as appearing directly in the space behind my eyes.Come sit.
I obeyed.
A flat rock that hadn’t been there a second ago eased itself up from the ground, forming a seat. I perched on the edge of it, suddenly very aware of how small and breakable I was.
“Hi,” I said, because my manners were hanging on by one frayed thread. “Sorry to drop in on the eve of a potentially world-altering event, but my brain is doing that thing where it thinks too much.”
It does that every day, the opalescent dragon noted lazily from above, its voice a cool ripple of thought.But you are right. It is louder today.
The smoke-gray dragon’s eyes slitted further in amusement.She is worried about the circle. And the wolf. And the knife-boy. And the shadow-queen. And the child.
I flinched. “Could we not call Gideon ‘knife-boy’?” I asked. “He’d be insufferably pleased.”
The silver-blue dragon’s tail flicked.He likes his edges.
“Yes, well. So do we.” I took a breath. The air tasted like metal and storm clouds. “I came to ask for… advice. Or a stern lecture. Or both. We’re meeting Gideon tomorrow to close the circle and end the hunger path. Or that’s the plan. And I don’t know if we’re walking into a victory or a very polite funeral.”
The bronze-and-emerald dragon, who usually said little, rumbled deep in its chest. The sound vibrated my ribs.Circles, it said.Mortals love them.
“We like things with beginnings and endings,” I said. “Straight lines are too honest. Circles feel… hopeful.”
And dangerous, the opalescent dragon added.Once you step into one, you cannot pretend you are not part of the pattern.
I stared up at them. “You warned me before Malore,” I said. “You showed me flashes. Fire, teeth, sacrifice. I didn’t understand it at the time, not really. I thought…” My throat tightened. “I didn’t know it would be Elira.”
The chamber’s light softened, dimming around the edges.
The silver-blue dragon lowered its head until its muzzle was level with my chest.You knew,it said gently.You did not know the name, but you knew the shape of loss.
“You’re right. I knew something would be lost,” I whispered. “I just hoped it would be… smaller. Less permanent.”
And yet,the smoke-gray dragon said, its mist swirling faster,you went ahead with it, and she is not gone. Not entirely.
“I know,” I said. “She’s at the cottage now. Anchored to the Stone Ward. Part ghost, part something else. Still bossy.” A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. “She said she chose it. That the Luminary gave her a choice.”
The dragons exchanged a look—a series of tiny shifts in posture, pupil dilation, the flex of a talon. They were so old that even their quiet meant something.
Choices are rare at the edge of a curse,the bronze-and-emerald dragon said.She took the only one that did not close a door forever.
“I am grateful,” I said. “I really am. But I’m also… tired. And scared. And I don’t know if I can do another sacrifice. Not like that. Not with Gideon and my grandmother both watching.”
The silver-blue dragon’s eyes glowed brighter.You think the circle will demand a life.
“Doesn’t it?” I asked. “Every account in those screaming books ends with someone bleeding. Either the curse wins, or the caster loses themselves, or the circle twists and binds the wrong thing. Even Malore, he built his entire path around someone else paying the price.”
