Even as his voice echoes up and down the passage, I move into the counterblow. While his shocked arm is down, while the sword is still falling from his fingers, I slash again, slicing the muscles of his triceps. Taigan’s head whips up. His eyes find mine, staring in utter shock. For the space of a heartbeat, that shock dominates his pain.
I don’t give him a chance to recover. I strike him in the head with the hilt of my dagger as hard as I can. His eyes roll back in his head, and he goes down like a sack of stones, halfway inside the pulley lift.
“So,” I growl, “you’re coming with us, I guess.”
Gripping him under the shoulders, I heave. Oh gods, he weighs a ton! I can barely budge him. “Help me!” I bark, and though I really try not to put any command into my tone, the dragon boy immediately leaps into action. Between the two of us, we manage to haul the prince into the box, where he takes up most of the already too-cramped space. But I can’t leave him in the hall for someone else to discover.
I yank the lever. The lift groans but begins its rise once more, painfully slow. I stand pressed against the wall, one foot propped on Taigan’s back, breathing hard. Then, hastily I wipe the blood from my knife and, crouching, proceed to cut strips off the hem of my petticoats. “Quick, help me bind him,” I say, tossing the boy the first of the strips.
We are neither of us experts but somehow manage to secure the prince’s hands and feet behind him. I hope he stays unconscious, for I wouldn’t put it past him to rip those bonds to shreds, even with a wounded arm. But I feel better to have at least made the effort.
When the job is done, I sit back, gazing down at the prince’s slack features. The final champion, winner of the trials. My intended husband.
“So much for romance,” I mutter.
The dragon boy stares at me. His fear thrums in my head, accompanied by something else, something like…awe. He’s impressed by my little maneuvers. A grin pulls at my lips. For the first time in my life, I feel positively ferocious. Valtar would be proud, I think.
But I can’t think about Valtar. Not yet. He’s gone, and he isn’t who I thought he was, and…and…No, I must stay focused. We haven’t escaped yet, and I still don’t know how I’m going toget the boy to transform even if we reach the upper platform in one piece. Any moment I expect another jolt to drop my stomach, followed by a swift descent into the waiting arms of Captain Norlan and his men.
But the lift continues to rise and rise. Boredom begins to set in, bringing with it all the anxiety which adrenaline had kept at bay until now. I’m not ready for this escape. And it’s all been too easy! Perhaps Taigan wasn’t prepared for the blows I dealt him, but other than that, surely they must have known about me clambering about in the air shafts. They must have known about my meetings with Valtar. There will be a whole company of guards waiting in the tunnel the moment the lift door opens.
At last the box creaks to a stop. Thescintiloverhead swings gently, casting our shadows against the walls. “Get behind me,” I say, motioning to the dragon boy. He scrambles to step over and around Taigan and huddle at my back. All that adrenaline which had died down in my veins leaps back to full power as I stand in defensive position once more, ready to strike my blow.
The door opens. An empty tunnel yawns before me.
I stare out, unbelieving. I was so convinced Alderin would have men positioned here, ready to block my way to that starry sky, which even now beckons me. I reach out with my dragon senses, searching for some sign of threat. No subtle vibration in my bones, no nearly imperceptible chill up my spine. The way is clear.
My nerves are jumpy as I step from the box. I motion for the boy to follow, and he practically hugs my shadow. His voice in my head is like the nervous whimper of a puppy, but he makes no audible sound, which is a relief. Gleaming moonlight shines on the paving stones up ahead. I long to run to it, to spread my arms and fly out into that open sky, but I force myself to creep cautiously down the passage until finally we reach the tunnel mouth.
Cold wind whips across the paving stones. Stars twinkle overhead, and below lies the sweep of that seemingly endless forest.We’re free, I think. Adjusting the angle of my knife, I step out into open air.
A figure moves on my right.
I lash out, trying to go into the defensive maneuver Valtar taught me. I’m not quick enough, and the angle is too unfamiliar. A solid blow strikes my forearm—not a cut, but a hard bone rattling. I scream even as my fingers uncurl, and the knife drops. I try to retrieve it, but a swift kick sends it skittering across the paving stones. When I lunge to chase after it, a hand closes around my arm, wrenching me back, whirling me to stare up into the moonlit face of King Alderin.
35
Rosie
“Well met, my dear,” the king says, his lips curved in a smile that does not meet his eyes. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I did not expect you to make it this far. You are certainly not lacking in spirit.”
My gaze flicks to the tunnel where the dragon boy lurks, terrified. Alderin, seeing that glance, turns to face the tunnel as well, dragging me roughly with him. “Come out, boy,” he says. “Let me have a look at you.”
The boy hesitates. I feel resistance in his mind, but something, some force I cannot explain, drives him to put one foot in front of the other. How can this be? If I didn’t know any better, I would think Alderin had some sort of control over the boy, stronger even than my own influence. But humans cannot command dragons, everyone knows that.
Yet the boy obeys, leaving the shadows, stepping into the moonlight. There he stands with his arms at his sides, quaking on his little bare feet. Alderin looks him over slowly, taking in hisbony frame. Then he shakes his head and turns to me again. “I had hoped your interactions with the boy would be enough to ignite your flame. Alas, I find you not even the least bit fiery. Not like last night, for sure. But,” he adds with a tilt of an eyebrow, “perhaps we can yet get you there.”
My heart sinks. So he did mean for all this to happen—my escape through the air shafts, my rescue of the boy. That convenient key ring on the prison guard’s belt, and the ease with which I brought him down. It was all carefully orchestrated.
Well, perhaps not all of it.
“I would be more concerned about your nephew if I were you,” I say, baring my teeth in a too-sweet smile.
Alderin’s eyes flash. “Taigan?”
Good. He’s surprised. Maybe I can use that. “Yes. Your precious champion. He’s not in such championship form as he was this morning.” I pull against Alderin’s iron hold. He doesn’t release me, but is that hesitation I sense in his grip? “Let us go,” I say, “and I’ll tell you where he is. You might even get to him in time.”
“What did you do to him, you little—” Alderin stops short, drawing a hissing breath through clenched teeth. He turns his head to one side and breathes out slowly. “Taigan doesn’t matter. Not in the long run.” He meets my gaze again, his eyes sharp as two blades. “Prince Warrick can serve the purpose just as well. The important thing is that you finally manifest your flame, that you take that first step toward becoming what you must become. More importantly, you must submit. To your fate. And to me.”
