“We’ll wait, beast. When the Disgrace grows too comfortable and lowers his defences, we’ll strike. For now, we’ll bide our time.”
But not forever.
“No, not forever.”
It was the only way Wally could justify not being punished for dropping his silverware. Being forced to eat his dinner and engage in polite conversation was not a punishment. There was a whip in the estate somewhere—there had to be.
But Wally was determined to never meet its thong.
Not only was he too attuned to the ways of dragons to fall for so simple a deception, but he was motivated by a force even more powerful than fear—hope. As long as he stayed good, Wally would never have to see his sire again. The thought filled Wally with so much joy that he grabbed the balustrade on his way up the stairs, leaned into it, and laughed. No matter how terrible Grimbold and the Amethysts were, Wally would learn their tricks, and he would adjust. He’d live a quiet life in this dragon’s lair—or wherever the Amethysts saw fit to put him pursuant to his placement here—and never again have to wonder if today was the day his sire would come strolling through the halls of his cloister with revenge on his mind.
Lightheaded from wine and an abundance of joy, Wally sank onto the stairs and stretched one leg out, pointing the toe of his shoe at the wall across from him. He grinned as he did it. Earlier that day, while still flighty from his relocation, he’d been so distracted by his fear of the unknown that he’d failed to notice the good that had come from being captured.
No. More. Brands.
Wally laughed again. It had to be the wine, he figured, as he rested his head on the nearest iron baluster. There was no other reason why he’d feel so good.
After a few minutes spent in repose on the stairs, Wally continued onward. Memories of the dinner he’d shared with Grimbold occupied his mind. As afraid as he’d been—especially when Grimbold had crawled under the table to confront him face to face—he’d survived. Not only that, but he’d eaten a delicious dinner that put the food he’d been served in the cloister to shame. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was sure Grimbold was looking to have him tortured and maybe killed, it would have been an enjoyable time.
Perhaps one day, once he was used to living in Amethyst territory, it would be.
Wally opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside. The overhead lights chased away the shadows, and he took stock of the room like he had before. The mirror was where he’d remembered it, and the bed didn’t appear to have been disturbed. As far as he could tell, no one had come to install cameras or other surveillance devices while he’d been away. That was unexpected, but good. Back in the cloister, Lana’s room hadn’t had video surveillance, either, and they’d been able to sneak in an old portable DVD player along with several television series on DVD—BuffytheVampireSlayerbeing Wally’s favorite. If no one had set up cameras in his room, perhaps he could figure out a way to sneak something like that in. Dragons hoarded treasure, not technology. If Wally was particularly bold, he figured he could take something from the media room and Grimbold would be none the wiser.
Assured that no one had tampered with the things in his room, Wally turned off the lights and took several steps beyond the threshold when a wicked thought occurred to him. If there were no cameras, then he could get away with the unthinkable.
Heart in his throat, he set a toe upon the carpet.
Several tense seconds raced by. Wally remained frozen on the spot, sure that his bravery would be his undoing. Why was he pushing his limits? He was agood boy.He didn’t get in trouble. Small, safe indiscretions—like the portable DVD player he could hide in places dragons would never find—were fine, but tempting fate in a place he wasn’t familiar with, around people he didn’t know? A shiver tumbled down Wally’s spine like dice across a table. In moments, someone would burst through the door and haul him off.
Only the door didn’t open.
The doorknob didn’t so much as turn.
Uncomfortable heat rose up Wally’s neck and stung his cheeks. He crushed his toe into the plush fibers and worked it back and forth, but nothing happened.
It’s a trap,the frightened voice in his head insisted.The Amethysts are trying to lull you into a false sense of security so that you make a grievous mistake. Don’t let them win.
The voice in Wally’s head that had imbibed a little too much wine countered with,they can’t punish you if they can’t catch you. Sit down just for a minute. You deserve it.
Compared to the hardwood, the carpet was soft, and Wally could only imagine how luxurious it would be to sit on it. When a full minute passed and the door had still not opened, he stepped onto the carpet in full, took a second to make sure no one was about to burst in, and sat.
Nothing happened.
“Oh,” Wally murmured. He kept his gaze locked on the door, but as the minutes crept on, the task became tiresome. His eyelids drooped and his head hung forward. How long had it been since he’d properly slept? The entirety of the time he’d spent living in the joint Topaz and Amethyst lair, he’d slept two or sometimes three hours a night, and never very soundly.
The carpet, with its warm wool, silk, and cotton, was luxurious, but should he be caught sleeping on it, it wouldn’t be seen as big an offense as daring to sleep in the bed. As Wally’s mind pushed him with renewed fervor toward sleep, he curled up upon it. It was nice.
So… nice…
Wally woke to bright sunlight, his cheek flush with the now drool-soaked carpet. He picked himself up, blinked, and realized that he’d spent the night doing wrong without consequence. Guiltily, he crawled off the carpet onto the hardwood and noticed a note had been slipped under his door.
Walter,
Dinner will be served at seven this evening. You will come to the table appropriately attired. To aid in this endeavor, find Carsons when you awake. He has been given instructions to have you properly measured.
The day is otherwise yours.
—G
