“Who’s Redwing?”
“Your dragon.”
“Younamedhim?”
He shrugged in the darkness. “I had to call him something. He’s reddish. He has wings.”
She shook her head. The next time Elorma called her unimaginative, Asha would send the slave his way.
There was light, suddenly, breaking up the darkness. When the stairway ended, a round chamber lay before them, with a deep pool at its center. A natural skylight high above let in a solitary pillar of light and water that flowed gently down the walls.
Asha walked the perimeter of the pool, looking upward.
“What is this place?” Her words echoed up the walls.
“I thought you would know,” said the slave, his gaze fixed on the dragon.
It seemed like some kind of ancient, sacred space.
Whatever it had been, it was now a perfect place to hide.
“I think his wing is torn....”
“What?” Asha spun, looking where he looked: at the dragon staring into the water, his head cocked, watching the fish swim in circles.
She needed this dragon to aid her in her plan. He couldn’t help if he had a torn wing. Slowly, Asha approached from one side. The slave approached from the other.
“He doesn’t need a name,” she said as they closed in on him.
“And why’s that?”
“Naming a thing endears you to it.”
Like slaves. The moment you started calling them by their names was the moment you started losing power over them. Better to keep them nameless than to be risen up against.
“Kozu has a name,” he pointed out.
“Yes, and soon he’ll be dead.” Asha crept ever closer to the dragon perching on the side of the pool. She could see exactly which wing it was. Black blood dripped from the thin membrane.
Slowly, she reached for the wing. The dragon darted away, quick as the wind, and jumped to the other side of the pool. His forked tail lashed playfully.
“You hate Kozu that much?”
The question broke her concentration. Asha whirled on the slave.
“Have you seen my face, skral?” She stepped toward him. “Do you know what Kozu did to the city right after he did this to me?”
He didn’t flinch, just met her gaze. “Have you seen the collar around my neck, Iskari?” It was the calm of a gathering storm. “Your own betrothed sends us to kill one another in the pit while you stand by, placing bets.” His eyes were colder than steel. “For that, maybe I should huntyoudown.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Asha muttered, turning back to the dragon. The sooner she tended that wing, the sooner she could carry out her plan.
“There’s something I’ve never understood,” he called after her. “Why did Kozu turn on youthen? On that day, and not before?”
The dragon before her braced himself, crouching low on his front legs, tail swishing, eyes daring Asha. Slowly, she started closing the gap between them.
“Something else I don’t understand?You should have died.Dragon burns are deadly, Iskari, and a burn like that?” His voice softened suddenly. “You were just a little girl.”
A fire sparked in her belly. He hadn’t been there. He didn’t know the first thing about it.
