A rare single piece of dragon skin that’s so large, it’s a mountain in her arms.
I try to quell my hope, but it rises like the crashing waves outside this cave.
Reverently, Ortansia unfolds the dragon’s hide, letting it fall to the floor on either side of her arms as she reveals its scales, the same color as the sand dunes.
“This is everything to my people,” she says, her whisper nearly drowned by the crashing waves outside the cave, a constant roar. “How can I part with it?”
I hesitate to touch it.
This priceless hope.
I exhale slowly, making her a promise I’m not sure if I can keep. “If I can bring it back, I will.”
The day I can control my fire.
The day the curse is broken.
I reach for the hide, preparing to take it from her, when a glint of metal flashes at the corner of my eye.
In a heartbeat, I spin, registering the blade shooting toward me and the male figure crouched in the cave’s entrance.
The roaring waves must have muffled his approach.
My firerushes to my hands, and all I have time for is a shout. “Ortansia! Get down!”
Flames pour from my palms, filling the air in front of me, lighting up my attacker’s features.
I make out his short beard, sallow skin, and faded, blue eyes.
He doesn’t try to run, remaining crouched, his palms together as if he’s praying to whatever goddess he worships.
A heartbeat later, fire consumes every inch of the space around him, and he is no more.
I clamp my hands closed, scrunching them into fists, desperately trying to rein in my power, to calm it, horribly aware that my shirt is burned and that means fire exploded from my torso, which means…
Spinning to Ortansia to check on her, I find myself staring at a mound of dragon scales. I hope this means she darted beneath the hide in time to escape my flames.
I let out my held breath when her muffled voice sounds from beneath it. “Is it safe to come out?”
“Wait a moment,” I reply, quickly assessing the heat in the rocks around her. Much cooler than the ground between me and my would-be attacker, so it should be safe enough.
I’m about to tell her to come out when my focus catches on a piece of wood lying near my feet.
What…?
I bend to it, scooping it up from the hot rock, only to freeze.
It looks like the wooden hilt of the man’s dagger. Smeared with melted steel but otherwise completely intact.
But…how is that possible?
How the fuck did I melt the steel blade andnotburn the wooden hilt?
For another moment,I remain frozen, trying to find logic in a piece of unburned wood, but Ortansia begins stirring behind me.
Quickly, I slip the hilt into my pants pocket, concealing it before Ortansia peeks out from behind the hide, gripping its edge as if she’s uncertain if she’ll need to quickly seek shelter beneath it again.
“Well.” She clears her throat as she pulls the covering back further. “Now you know the dragon’s hide works.”
