“Actually, it does.” She stared at the back of his neck, noting the large spikes protruding. They were a darker shade of red, almost brown. “Because two Shamans came to my village. They tried to hurt a child, and I intervened. I stabbed one in the side and the eye, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all. That’s when I left the city and fled into the highlands.”
The dragon turned his head so he could stare at her over his shoulder. His colossal yellow eye bored into hers. I knew you were running from something. But from what, I did not know.
“It sounds like we have the same enemy.”
No. They are everyone’s enemy.
“Why do they want you?”
The dragon faced forward again. Just because you’re forward with your information doesn’t mean you should expect others to be in return.
“Why be secretive?” She moved the wing slightly, making sure important tendons hadn’t been damaged. “If you trust me with your wing, then you know I’m not your enemy.”
You don’t understand the definition of trust, clearly.
She tried not to be insulted by his coldness. Dragons were strange creatures. Very much so. “For argument’s sake, they are chasing both of us. I say we stick together and lie low. You can’t travel with a wound like this.”
Yes, I can.
“You shouldn’t. You need to heal.”
I can walk.
“But walking isn’t resting.”
I need—
“Are all dragons this stubborn?”
A growl erupted from deep in his belly. I’m not stubborn. I’m just wiser than you.
“I don’t know about that…” She folded the wing to his back then slid down to the grass. “Isn’t it important to keep your scales pristine and clean? If this wound doesn’t heal right, you may have a scar.” Miss Fitz said dragons were full of vanity. If there was one thing they cared about, it was their looks.
The dragon tensed at her words, his eyes scanning the horizon.
Cora knew she’d made an impact.
If I do as you say, you’ll make sure I don’t have a scar?
Cora hid her smile. “Yes. No one will know the difference.”
Cora had an ulterior motive. She needed to get to the top of the crags where she’d agreed to meet Dorian. He was her only source of news, and if she missed his passing, she wouldn’t have a clue what was going on in Vax.
The dragon didn’t need to know that.
They slowly made their way up the mountain, taking the longer route since the dragon couldn’t move around so easily, not with its large girth. Even if he could fly, that wasn’t an option. With his bright red scales, he would be spotted in a second.
“What’s your name, anyway?” Cora walked in front, her bow slung over her back along with her quiver of arrows. Her dagger remained in her boot, and her short blade was attached to her belt. The weight didn’t hunch her shoulders or work her back. She was used to exerting herself on a daily basis when she forged her weapons over the burning fires.
The dragon always used long pauses before responding. He was either extremely thoughtful in his answers, or he dragged them out on purpose. Flare.
“That’s your name?”
The irritation was clear in his projected thoughts. That’s what I said, is it not?
“It’s just…that doesn’t sound like a dragon name.” She hiked up the hill and concentrated on getting the soles of her boots in the right areas.
Why would I want my name to sound like all the others?
Cora shrugged and kept walking.
And yours?
“Cora.”
His deep voice slowly enunciated the word. Cora.
“Pretty, huh?”
Eh. Not as pretty as my scales. Even in the moonlight, they sparkle like diamonds.
Cora raised an eyebrow as she walked, confused by that response. She was told dragons were particular about their looks, but she didn’t realize how excessive it was.
When I breathe fire, it looks like a dance of flames.
She tried not to laugh. Listening to him talk about his beauty was entertaining.
How much longer?
“Not too long.”
The dragon fell quiet behind her, his massive claws thudding into the dirt with every step he took. The ground beneath them shook as they scaled the mountain. When they approached a tree nested with birds, the winged creatures took flight the moment they sensed the vibrations from the dragon’s approach.
“Can I ask you something?”
Was that the question?
She ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “I thought the dragons were annihilated.”
The dragon fell quiet.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Hello?”
I’m still waiting for the question.
She faced forward again and hid her irritation. “Are you the only dragon left in the world?”
No.
“Really?” She stopped in her tracks and turned around. “There are others?” The idea of these winged creatures roaming the skies once more was incredible. If there were enough of them, they could take back the land from King Lux, and those disgusting Shamans could be returned to wherever the hell they came from.
Yes. Flare tilted his head and examined her closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. He studied her like she was swaying grass in the breeze or dancing flames in a hearth. Nothing was happening, but he couldn’t look away. But you already knew that.
“What?” She put her hands on her hips. “Does it look like I already knew that?”
How can you not? Your elven brethren must have told you everything by now, despite your childish age.
She raised her hand in irritation. “Whoa, hold on. My childish age? What does that mean?”
It means you’re a child. Or are you not old enough to understand the vocabulary?
Even though her opponent was a dragon, she really wanted to go head-to-head with him. It was so easy for him to insult her. He did it fluidly, like he truly enjoyed it. “I’m not a child. I’m a woman.”
He leaned in farther, getting a close look at her features. You’ve never killed a man before.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Everything. He pulled his head away.
“Maybe I haven’t killed anyone, but I’m considered old in the village. I’ve seen twenty-one years. I’m practically ancient.”
Flare snorted, and a small amount of fire erupted. Cora was far enough away to barely feel the sting of the flames. Twenty-one years is merely a second.
“Then how old are you?”
Flare looked away, dismissing the question. That’s a very rude question to ask.
“You asked me.”
No. I assumed.
Cora wanted to stomp her foot in protest, but that would just confirm his assumption that she really was a child. Flare had said something far more important than her age, so she focused on that. “What did you mean by my elven brethren?”
You’re an elf. Therefore, you must know what they know. Flare peered at the sky before he turned back to her.
“I’m not an elf.”
Flare tilted his head slightly, and his yellow eyes scanned her face. You are.
“No, I’m not. I may be young in your eyes, but I’m definitely not an elf.” She’d never even seen an elf, so how could she be one herself? No one had ever made that assumption before. Everyone in the village accepted her as one of their own.