She looked at her shaking hands and thought about what Erich had said. The feeling of wrongness that wouldn’t leave her. The lingering doubts in her mind. She’d become someone she didn’t recognize.
“How do I draw the sword?” she asked.
“You know the answer.”
“The pool, back in Artria? I can’t go back there. It’s too far.”
“There is another closer by. Call on your shield to bring you; finish the ceremony that was interrupted.” The raven was starting to fade away; she could see the walls behind it.
“You can’t leave it there. Tell me more. Take me out of this place.”
But it didn’t provide any answers. The shaft of moonlight that had illuminated it moved, and the raven burst into a cloud of mist and disappeared, leaving Liane standing, shivering in her nightdress, back in the tower.
22
Erich didn’t usually remember the change. Typically, he woke crusted in dry blood and a foul taste of meat in his mouth. Since the change happened at the same time every month, he removed himself from populated areas, stripped down before sunset, and let it overcome him. The next morning, he’d wake, dress, and resume his normal life. After he’d left Liane in the tower, the change swept through him, two days before the change should have taken him. He barely made it out of the city before the scales had covered his entire body, and his muscles were tearing, reforming, and bones were breaking as they elongated. He was usually spared the agony of transformation, but this time, he was aware of each inch of his body becoming the dragon. The walls of the city were out of sight when the wings burst from his back and the compulsion to take to the sky overcame him. He’d be visible to farmers or late-night travelers on their way to the gates, but exposure was the least of his worries. Within the walls of Basilia, the Midnight Guard would hunt him down and kill him. He flew up, toward the swelling moon that hung high in the sky, fully transformed into a dragon.
Rather than slip into oblivion as he normally would, he watched through the dragon’s eyes as it stalked a fat boar rooting in the forest. As he crunched through bones and devoured entrails, he wasn’t repulsed, but neither was he satisfied, and he took to the sky once more, searching for more prey. The feeling of the wind over his scales was rather refreshing. Why hadn’t the dragon taken over his mind? Had the moment come where he’d lost himself to the curse for good? And would he spend eternity suspended in this state, a man within the monster?
Thoughts like these slipped through his fingers as the animalistic impulses overcame him. He spotted a deer and plunged toward the ground to clutch it in his talons before carrying it off to enjoy his meal perched atop a hillside. He spent the rest of the night hunting in the rolling hills and forests. No matter how many creatures he devoured, he never felt satisfied. When the wildlife wasn’t enough, he strayed toward a field of sheep and felt the impulse to burn them. Before the human part of his brain could stop him, Erich unleashed fire from his gut, burning them to a crisp, and gorged himself on their charred corpses.
When the sun rose, he retreated to a cave, but did not return to human form. Rather, he curled up and slept through the daylight hours. The next night, he was even further from the man he’d been, lost somewhere in a waking dream. A part of him had forgotten that he’d ever been a human. He hunted; he flew across the countryside, killing wildlife and livestock indiscriminately. For the second day, he slept, but his sleep was restless, and yet his dragon mind couldn’t understand why. The full moon was when the dragon was at peak strength, and the human part of his mind was becoming a distant memory. But there was something tugging at his lizard brain, trying to draw him back somewhere he couldn’t quite recall.
The night of the full moon, the hunting was good. He ate until his stomach might have burst. Over the three nights flying across the countryside, he’d gotten closer to civilization. Not much in nature could harm a dragon, so he did not fear the humans, even when they flung their useless weapons against him, but as he saw the yellow glow of the city on the horizon, he felt an instinct to draw closer.
Which was a mistake because these humans near the walled city were armed with magic that could penetrate his hide. They shot something toward him that tore a hole in his wing. The dragon pulled back and unleashed its fire, scorching the ground and the bodies below, but rather than fear him, they pressed forward, shooting nets that he twisted midair to avoid. A thought was screaming at the back of his mind. Run, it said. But the dragon saw a woman’s face. Liane. A wistful gasp at the back of his thoughts. He had to return to her.
But when he tried flying back toward the city, their cannons and their magic repelled him. The desire to see her was overcome by the desire to survive, and he retreated into the wilderness. Erich, buried in the dreaming thoughts of the dragon, swam back to the surface, gasping for air as he steered his stolen body. He didn’t have a full grasp on the damage he’d done or the chaos he’d brought upon himself or the city, but he knew enough to know even as he was entangled in the monster, he’d made a terrible mistake.
He felt the dragon’s hunger for Liane like the keen edge of a knife, and its obsession had almost gotten him killed. The sky was lightening as the full moon set, and Erich untangled his thoughts from the dragon, like unraveling a ball of yarn. When morning came, he’d have full control again, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back these urges. He flew as far as he could before dawn and collapsed into a forested area miles from the city. Even on horseback, the Midnight Guards wouldn’t have been able to keep up with his retreat, but they’d be on alert, looking for him. How could he possibly get back into the city and rescue Liane from the church now?
By the time the sun rose, and he’d shed his dragon form as a lizard sheds its skin, he was exhausted. And though he rarely remembered changing back into a human after the full moon, Erich felt every bone break and regrow as the scales and flesh fell away before burning up like steam in the morning light. The pain was so intense that the edges of his vision were turning black, and he nearly lost consciousness by the time dawn rose. The pain was subsiding, and he lay naked beneath a canopy of trees.
His body demanded he rest and recuperate, but there was no time for that. The Midnight Guard would be looking for a dragon, and if they found him lying naked in the forest, they’d make the connection. Despite the protest of his aching bones, he got up and went through the long-held ritual of post-transition. He washed the dried blood from his mouth and neck before searching for a cottage or farmstead where he could procure clothes. What he’d been wearing when he’d transformed was nothing but tattered ribbons now. He found a farmer’s cottage, and his gamble paid off when he found clothes drying on the line. He stole them and dressed before retreating once more into the forest to plan his next moves.
Three days he’d been the dragon, and he’d attacked the Midnight Guard. He’d never spent that long in that form before, and it was likely his grip on humanity was slipping. Which meant he had to finish what he’d started before the next full moon. He didn’t know how many more transformations he had left before he would become a monster for good. He shoved that thought aside and focused on returning to Basilia. But he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back in. After a dragon attack, the Midnight Guard might lock down the city to prevent anyone from coming or going.
And maybe that was for the best. Maybe it’d been arrogance that made him think he could be the one to save her. This could be the Trinity telling him that it was time to move on, before he hurt someone. There was no cure. He might as well disappear into the wilderness and live a life as the monster he was, stealing sheep and terrorizing farmers until the Midnight Guard inevitably caught up and killed him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Leonhard’s brand on his shoulder started to burn, reminding him of the unpaid debt. He might not make it long enough for the Midnight Guard to kill him; the Hunters’ Guild might get him first. Was there already a bounty on his head?
Who was he kidding? He knew he couldn’t leave Liane to the church’s mercy. Not after he’d seen her locked up in the tower. Erich clenched his hand into a fist and started his long march back to the city. He reached a crossroads and followed the signs for Basilia. When the roads got rougher and signs scarcer, he stopped to ask a farmer tilling his field for directions, and he confirmed what he’d feared—It would take most of the day on foot to reach the city.
It was about midday, and miles from where he’d stolen the clothes, when he waved down a farmer and his wife on their way to the market, asking for a ride. The farmer was a stoic but agreeable man who allowed him to sit in the back with the chickens.
It stank, and the chickens were noisy, but it was faster than walking. They were far down the country road, and night was setting in.
“Lord Arcaro has a visitor,” the wife remarked.
“A fine piece of horse flesh he’s riding and dressed too good even for the likes of Lord Arcaro,” the farmer mused.
“Why else would a nobleman be riding through here then?” the wife snipped.
“I couldn’t tell you. None of my business.”
“We should ask,” the wife insisted.
“Bah, none of our business,” he replied.
