I leaped through the curtains, between the two of them, and slipped into the woods on silent feet. This must be a small patch of woodlands surrounding Caesar’s palace. Tall oaks and chestnut trees towered above me, the leaves thick, providing deep shadows to hide within.
After the earlier storm, the sky had cleared, the full moon beaming large and bright above us. It would’ve been better to flee under thecover of a new moon, when there was little light. But it didn’t matter when our enemy was other dragons. They could see and smell us in the dead of night.
Trajan adjusted his toga, staring into the shadows, finding me with his preternatural gaze. Then he turned and climbed back into the litter with his grandfather.
Slowly, I stepped farther into the woods until I could no longer see the road. Backing up to the trunk of a thick oak tree, I slid down into a sitting position and listened.
Moon shadows filtered through the leaves above, but I was far enough from the road no one could see me. All I could hear was the continuous marching of litter-bearers, the creaking of litters, murmuring voices, and laughter.
The nobility were all headed to a party at the palace, and yet dread sank into the pit of my stomach like a stone. What was Caesar planning now? Was Trajan safe in entering thatcircle of hellas he’d called it? Or was this a trap to capture him? Did Caesar know he was a traitor?
“Please,” I whispered to the heavens. “Minerva protect him. And Gaius.”
I prayed to the goddess who’d allegedly given me my mystical power. The one Bunica said had blessed me. I’d never considered it a blessing until it had given me the power to kill Valerius, until I’d taken back my freedom with my witchy magic.
Listening to the litters and laughter, I realized I wasn’t free yet. Focusing on keeping calm and quiet, I remained still until the sounds of footsteps along the stone road to the palace faded and disappeared altogether.
Removing my veil, I leaned my head back, my hair pulling a little on the bark of the tree. I gazed through the leaves at the round moon. Some depictions of the goddess Minerva included the moon above her,the shining beacon of night, light in the darkness. It was comforting, even while fear slithered around me, reminding me that Trajan could be walking toward his death.
“Please,” I whispered again, hoping the goddess heard me.
An eerie call echoed through the trees. I gasped and snapped my head to the left. Was the goddess actually answering me? For the voice who’d made that ghostly cry was so otherworldly, gooseflesh rose along my skin.
Then I heard it again.
Jumping to my feet, I peered into the darkness of the woods where it had come from. No goddess or monster crept closer. Whatever it was, it was deeper through the trees.
Then a third cry pealed high into the night, sounding more like an injured animal. The haunting sorrow of it beckoned me closer. Lightly, I stepped through the trees, pausing frequently to listen for danger.
There was no sign of guards in the woods or anyone else. Only that heartbreaking sound of a hurt creature.
With the help of the bright moonlight, I could see a clearing up ahead. The sound came from that clearing. Once I was on the edge, I hid behind a thick trunk, trying to find it.
There was a stone tower above what seemed to be a large hole in the ground. There were two guards in the tower, both of them talking and laughing. In the near distance, I heard the sound of music. Knowing this was the direction of the palace, I must be near Caesar’s home.
Easing along the tree line, I watched the tower, but the guards didn’t seem at all concerned by the hurt animal in the large pit. They continued to drink and laugh at their guarding station, like they didn’t even hear its plaintive cry.
I stared back through the trees, knowing I should simply ignore whatever it was and return to my hiding place near the road and waitfor Trajan. I took a step back toward the woods, then it came again, and I felt a deep tug on my magic, like a kindred spirit called for me. I tried, but I simply couldn’t walk away, because deep down, I already knew who made that horrifying sound.
Circling stealthily to the far side of the pit, I eased my body down to the grassy clearing and crawled on my belly. Keeping my eyes glued to the guards, I watched for any sign they heard or saw me. They didn’t, so I continued on.
There was a dip at the edge then a stone rim around the pit. My body concealed, I gripped the stone lip and eased my head up so that I could see what had called me with that mournful cry.
By the gods.My heart hammered hard in my chest when I beheld her. I was right.
It was Camilla, Caesar’s sister, who he kept chained and bound in the pit. The cook at Valerius’s home had told me her terrible history. That she had become a vestal priestess at fifteen, her true heart’s desire since she was born a Vicus dragon. But when Caesar gained the throne, he dragged her from the temple and back to his home. Once Caesar had assaulted her, she’d transformed into a dragon and had never changed back into a woman.
So he kept her as his prisoner here in this pit behind his house.
The Vicus dragons were all female and could be born of any dragon house, but they were pure white. Their eyes were various shades of pink to deep red.
The white dragon down in the pit with cross-hatching bars along the opening, a collar around her throat that chained her to the floor, peered up at me with crimson eyes. One of her wings appeared bent, maimed.
“Gods,” I whispered, meeting her grief-stricken gaze.
She blinked at me then turned her snout up to the moon and let out that shrieking cry again.
She was praying, searching the skies for any god or goddess who would listen. Her long wail stopped abruptly when she angled her neck too far, the collar choking off her voice.
