“You’re looking better.”
I spin on my heel. Ozias stands by the single wall in the room, made up completely of the same branches that melt down and sink into the floor. I’m sure he wasn’t there when Atlanta and I first entered.
“Different is the word you’re looking for, I think,” I answer, dropping the leaf. His gaze moves to Atlanta, then back to me.
“And do you feel different?”
There’s a thrumming beneath my skin. I feel too small and too large all at once. I don’t know who I am, or what this place is. I press my fingers into my mark as I shake my head, not at his question, but at what I know. “I can’t live like this,” I whisper, the words firm, my shoulders heaving towards my ears. “I can’t have this thing inside me and yet do nothing with it. It was one thing when I thought I wouldn’t remember. When I thought I’d become this beast, this savage thing at night and I would remain here, unable to hurt anyone, but to believe…” I cast my gaze to Atlanta, before returning to him. I swallow hard. “To believe that this is what I’m meant to be and still not be free? It’s torture.”
Ozias’s gaze travels down the length of my body and back up and I flush under his attention. It feels different from when Alixor would look at me. It feels curious. Intrigued. Like he wants something from me, but only if I willingly give it. After a long moment he addresses Atlanta. “Check the border stations for new developments. I’ll be in touch when I’m done here.”
Atlanta lowers her eyes, dips her head, and clears her throat. “Of course.”
Ozias watches as she leaves, and when she’s gone, he turns and starts walking towards the wall. “Follow me.”
I’m so deep in my head, I feel like I might combust. The very air around me is too thin to take in. I’m teetering on the edge of panic and I start naming things I see.Smooth bark. A falling leaf. A twisted root.Ninon does this when she gets overwhelmed, and I calm myself enough to move my legs. It appears as though he intends to walkstraight into the wall, but at the last second he turns by a narrow margin and walks through a concealed opening. If I’d blinked, I would have thought he disappeared. I quicken my pace and exit from the same spot, to see him climbing yet another set of steps that leads into another chamber built between the highest boughs of the tree.
“Why is the wall like this?” I ask.
“I got tired of making doors,” he responds as he waves a hand around. “There were so many to craft.”
His answer confirms one thing—he built this place, or at least the Alcazar. “And I see you didn’t tire of crafting stairs?”
He looks over his shoulder at me with a wry grin. “Steps lead me to where I want to go. Doors have only ever stood in my way.”
The stairs open up to a more enclosed room. A large table stands in the center, strewn with papers, and a full scale model of our lands, complete with a replica of Dyeus floating above. The scene is illuminated, mimicking the sunlight exactly as it is right now. I have the urge to stare at it to see if it will brighten as the morning morphs into afternoon. Beyond, a small desk sits to the left, and to the right, a set of low plush settees overlook a wide open-air window. Between them is a glass table with a two decanters and two glasses sitting on top. I notice a wall of the same making as the one we came through behind the couches. He offers me a seat, and I lean over, attempting a glimpse beyond the wall.
“If you’re interested in seeing my bed, I’ll gladly show you,” he offers, his voice low and inviting. My belly coils in response, and I note the interest in his eyes. He’s not simply teasing, but there’s something else there, too. A test. What happened last night with Alixor has left its mark, but I won’t let it take from me. I allow myself to feel as my gaze travels over him in consideration. I let myself take interest and grin in appreciation.
“Perhaps another time,” I say. His eyes widen in amusement as I firmly take a seat. “Though I’m certain you have no shortage of female companionship, given that there areso many here.”
“We’ve been taking in women from Nevoba for a long time, one way or another.”
I hum, wondering at all the ways my people have found their way here. How is it that we haven’t all discovered this secret and come flocking here to free ourselves? Except, I’m not free, and then, I think of my mother. Completely devoted to the dragons of Dyeus; most women in our community exactly like her. I remember women whom my mother and others shunned when I was a child. I remember when they disappeared, never to return. We were told they were chosen to work in Dyeus. I wonder if some of them really ended up here.
Ozias leans forward, the wide sleeves of his robe rising to expose forearms corded with muscle and laced with scars. He looks me up and down, eyes staying on the center of my torso. “Fascinating.”
I look down at my breasts, then glance back up to him. “Perhaps you don’t see much female companionship after all.”
Ozias chuckles at my lightly crude joke. “Your mark, Kaisa. It’s already fading.”
My mind clangs against the word already. So, this isn’t unique to me. Though something about it is. “What’s fascinating about it?”
Ozias leans forward to have a closer look. “It usually takes longer to fade to this degree.”
“Will it disappear entirely?”
“Hopefully.”
I trace the mark again, suddenly upset about the loss, then drop my hands into my lap. “Atlanta said it was placed to keep us from transforming.”
“Yes. It kept you in your human form and severed you from your celestial self, or your draconem, as we traditionally call ourselves.”
I scan his chest, my gaze lingering before meeting his eyes. “You don’t have one.”
“The curse Zhoric placed on me is not the same as yours.”
Curse. The don’t know the word in this context, but there’s a stirring in my veins that feels familiar. “What does that mean? What did he do to you?”
