“Then who owns this place?” Sir Vanoak asked. “And why have it in Bara's records?”
“Maybe it was a delivery location,” I said. “You found it in his record of sales, correct?”
“Yes.” A frown marred the Dragon King's face as he strode away from the pallets and over to the closest shelf. He yanked down a crate and let it crash onto the floor. Bags of flour, salt, and sugar spilled out. He pulled another. More dry goods. Another crate. The contents caught the light as they spilled forth, shining in a way only pure silk can.
“Motherfucker!” King Raventar shouted.
Silk. The crate was packed with white ribbons. My breath sawed in and out of my throat. The King looked at me. His eyes shivered. His jaw clenched. With a roar, he flung a hand at the ribbons and engulfed them in fire.
I let out a breath as smoke rose to the ceiling.
The knights stood back, but I found a strange calm in the King's anger. He was infuriated, his eyes glowing with magic. But although his anger was partially on my behalf, I knew it wasn't directed at me. It reminded me of the night we met, whenhe had seen what Bara had done to me. He had been equally furious then.
The Dragon King raged for me.Hewasmyanger. And that allowed me to be his peace.
King Raventar's expression smoothed as I stepped closer. His anger turned into concern. But I didn't need sympathy. Something stirred inside me. A purpose. I put my hand on his arm. For the first time in years, I wanted to give comfort to another person.
His eyes widened.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For being a good king.” I lowered my hand and looked around the room. “This person or persons have enslaved many people with Bara's ribbons. This isn't a case of taking a single bed slave. This is a business. Bara sold the ribbons, but these people are selling the slaves bound by those ribbons. I can't believe I'm saying this, but they're worse than Bara.” I set my gaze on the King. “You must find these people, Your Majesty. Find them and stop them.”
“I will do more than that. I will save those who've been taken,” King Raventar declared. “And you will help me, Eliel.”
“Yes, Your Majesty, it will be my honor to help.”
Chapter Seven
The Dragon King sent for more soldiers. Then he searched the building thoroughly. Yes, he searched with the others, tearing into everything, including the walls. It was brutal, but I saw it for what it was—a way for him to relieve some of his anger.
I had to excuse myself. My moment of strength had quickly dwindled under the aggressive search, and the trembling began. But I still saw it as a step forward. I had been useful, and it had nothing to do with sex. I had helped with my intellect. It astounded me and also made me reevaluate myself. I was smarter than I realized. I know that sounds silly, but when you spend your life focused on your outer qualities, it becomes hard to see what's inside. The Dragon King was helping me look inward, and I was amazed at what was there.
Amazed, but still afraid. So, I left the King to his demolition while I waited outside. Perched atop a boulder within the shade of a fragrant pine tree, I wrapped my arms around myself, breathed in the clarifying scent, and sang. I needed to drown out the bangs and thuds coming from the building . . . and the frustrated roars that came sporadically to startle me. With my eyes on the sky, I sang the song my mother taught me when I was learning to fly. It was meant to comfort a new flyer whilethey learned to navigate the sky alone. I'd often sung it when I was with Bara to comfort myself, and it worked even better now.
“The air knows me,” I sang.
“My kin. My magic.”
The repetitive, breath-led lyrics helped to calm my breathing. I flowed into the song.
“I am not alone here.
My ancestors fly beside me.
They lift me upon their breath.”
The vibration of my voice soothed me. I closed my eyes and let my soul rise with my words.
“I spread my wings,
and the sky remembers.
The sky remembers me.”
For the duration of the song, I was whole again. I saw my home in my mind—the enormous trees supporting rambling structures. Homes built above ground. No locks, only platforms to welcome visitors. Within the tribe, all were safe. Lelurras didn't steal or murder. They didn't hurt each other. There were only love, laughter, and music among my people. I felt it again—that sense of community and safety. Felt my mother's hand on my cheek. Bara and his wickedness vanished. I was free.
