Page 33 of Dragon Heir

No, I can’t freaking see them! It’s pitch dark. The last thing I remember is falling off the back of a dragon and plummeting toward my death. Except I didn’t die. At least, I don’t think I did. Somehow I lived even though I must have been a mile from the earth when I fell.

What the actual fuck?

I jump to my feet, marveling that my body seems unharmed. I try to remember what exactly happened before the dragon ride. We were in that alley, and then… The sound of fighting and screeching echoes through my mind. Blood. There had been blood that splattered out in the alleyway. Did my guys kill Bradley? Sharp Tooth was working for the Sun King. Maybe he was the dragon?

Did my guys grab me and run because they were afraid of the king? Were they caught?

“Who’s there?” I demand, reaching out a hand, trying to find a wall or another person. “What did you do with my friends? Where am I?”

“Stop stumbling around before you hurt yourself,” says the gravely old woman voice, sounding a bit annoyed. “You’re fine.”

Fuck that. I step slowly, moving through the darkness with my hands outstretched.

There’s a loud sigh, and then a plume of fire shoots out, and a torch bursts to life.

I stifle a shriek as another torch in the wall ignites. Light flickers over walls made of brown stone threaded with veins of gold. Beneath my feet, what I had taken for pebbles are loose gold nuggets that glitter in the firelight. A massive snow-white statue of a dragon stands on four legs near the wall, its body encrusted with jewels. The thing is twice the height of a grown man and twice more that long from nose to tail. Watching in shock, I can’t tear my eyes away as it stops next to an unlit torch.

Not a statue.

Its maw opens, bearing sharp fangs, and it sighs, igniting the next torch with a plume of fire.

A Dragon.

It’s much larger than I thought it would be so close. Probably around three-hundred or so pounds, maybe more. Its skin is sheathed in luminescent white scales.

It turns to blink silver-disc eyes at me.

“Do not be afraid.” A stooped, wrinkled old woman appears out of the gloom before me. Her hair is white and straight as icicles as it falls around her shoulders, all the way to her waist. She pets the green beast beside her, another dragon, this one encrusted in emeralds and diamonds. This one is smaller, with a translucent ruff around its neck and she same leathery sort of webbing on the back of its legs. Her hand runs down its scaly side. “He’d probably chew off his own tail before harming you. You’re very safe with this one.”

“Who are you, and where are Pax and True?” I demand, all in one breath.

“Calm yourself, child.”

I glare at her spookiness, ready to run past the woman. The dragons could definitely take me, but it’s too tight a space to maneuver in. Before I can do anything though, the green dragon opens its mouth, sighs, and lights a torch on the opposite wall.

Light falls fully on the old woman’s features, and I suck in a breath, squinting at her. It can’t be who I think, and yet… Something in her face is undeniably familiar.

“Are you…?” I break off, my heart hammering so hard I can’t speak. Choking back a gasp, I drop to my knees, bowing my head to expose the back of my neck to her. “Your majesty, I’m sorry for my rudeness—I...”

The only things I can think to say would come out ruder, so I fall silent.

“Forgiven,” she says. “You may stand. I like to talk to faces, not necks.”

I climb to my feet again, panic thundering in my ears. I chew on my lip, ashamed of my earlier abruptness as I stare into a face much like the one in the portraits I’ve seen at the academy and in drawings so many times, but much, much older. No one has seen the queen in hundreds of years—at least no one who returned to tell the tale. She looks much older than I expected, ancient and imperious yet perilously frail, like a phoenix feather about to crumble to ash.

“Your majesty,” I say, licking my lips. “I’m so honored to make your acquaintance, but I have to get back. My—my companions might be hurt!”

“They’re alive,” she assures me. “They’re fine.”

My heart settles a bit. “Where am I?”

“The better question might be, why have I brought you here,” she says with a wizened smile. “You are in my lair, are you not?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking around at the dank cave, the moss-covered earthen walls, the gold nuggets underfoot. “Am I?”

“Yes,” she says, still smiling. “You are home, where you belong.”

“Where I—belong?” I nearly squeak the last word.