“Good morning.”
For a heartbeat, I think I’ve imagined it. Then his jaws part again—too careful, too human. I’d forgotten he could speak.
“I believe it is custom to respond when someone greets you,” the dragon says dryly.
“Good morning,” I choke out. I don’t fear him anymore, but I still don’t want to make him angry.
“I heard you last night,” he rumbles, voice like stone splitting. “Training.”
“I’m glad you found my rage entertaining,” I snap. “Have you come to give me tips?”
“No.” His great head dips slightly. “I came to make a bargain.”
I narrow my eyes. “What kind of bargain?”
“I’ll give you anything you desire, within my power.”
“Can you tell me how to break your curse?”
The dragon huffs out a thick cloud of smoke. “No, but I can guarantee that you’ll not only win the final Trial but become his queen.”
“No.” The word comes out sharper than I intend. “I don’t want to become his queen, and I’ll figure out the final Trial on my own, thanks.” I refuse to take any more bargains. It still bothers me that I owe Cassian a favor. Thankfully, he’s been busy tending to affairs in Veyora since the banquet, on the king’s orders.
The dragon makes a sound almost like a chuckle, smoke curling from his nostrils as he lowers his head to meet my gaze. “Your heart betrays you, little flame.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I want is to survive this nightmare and go home.”
“Did you never read,” he asks, voice smooth and dangerous, “that it is impossible to lie to a dragon?”
My throat tightens. He tilts his head, waiting, expecting me to reply.
“My mother used to say dragons were the Creator’s first fire,” I murmur. “That they were the guardians of humankind, fostering peace.”
His eyes flare, molten gold beneath the black. “And do you believe that?”
“I used to,” I whisper. “Before you stole me from my home. Before I learned you cursed an entire kingdom.”
He studies me for a long moment, then exhales smoke like a sigh. “I see now why the king’s fire bends toward you. You are fearless.”
My pulse stutters. “What do you want from me?” I demand.
He tilts his great head, eyes narrowing. “More importantly, little flame—what doyouwant?”
“To go home,” I repeat impatiently. “To be done with this nightmare.”
He pauses, as if weighing my words against his powers. “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to return home permanently,” he says at last. “But I can offer you one night with your sister. Before the final Trial.”
My breath catches.
“No illusions. No tricks,” he adds softly. “You will see her. Speak to her. Therealher. You can say goodbye properly.”
“And in return?”
“You will come to me,” he says. “Every fortnight, on the night of the full and the new moon, until the final Trial.”
The wind shifts, and I taste ash. “And do what?” I ask, forcing my voice steady.
“Whatever I ask of you,” he replies evenly, “starting tomorrow night. Go to the library and bring me whatever book it gives you.”
