No idea what. Don’t particularly care.
She dives, dashing after the silver speck with a rhythmic thump like beating wings. Something that might’ve affected me before I sliced at myself, but nothing soft is left. Only feral determination to protect the dragon tucked beneath my ribs. To keep hersafeso she never becomes an empty ache in my chest.
I turn and climb within myself, ripe with a predatory strength I use to coil around Líri’s pulsing presence in the same way she’s bound around my body.
Tightly.
Grind.
Grind.
Grind.
“You know what?” I lift the tapered bit of bone, examining it. “We’re almost there with this one, too.”
Nee dances close, brushes against the bone, then shoots back to the ceiling and bustles about the sooty moons. Onein particular, with its elegant angles, smooth slopes, and the smudge of gray ash to color it.
Her favorite.
Also mine.
A soft smile pulls at my lips as I watch her.The fact that she’s so lured to that drawing brings me a warm sense of peace, like maybe she understands the connection between myself and the big silver Moonplume moon that fell twenty-three phases ago.
With my whole heart, I’ve chosen to believe it. Just as I believe Caelis will never be whole again until I get free of this cell, find Slátra’s remaining shards, and—
Do what needs to be done.
I home my attention back on my task, angling the shard against a smooth-ish part of the ground, removing only the finest layer of bone with each long motion.
Grind.
Grind—
The squeal of rolling cart wheels pitches down the hall.
Nee nose-dives—almost too fast for me to sweep her into my cupped palm and bundle her against me. “You’re getting better at that,” I whisper, nudging the bone beneath my pallet before tossing the blanket over us both. I close my eyes, taming my breaths until they’re slow and long, Nee so still against my chest it’s as if her soul just slipped free.
Hard to imagine the sound of those squealing wheels once spurred me with hope. Now, it spurs me with dread. I’m so damn close to getting free without this stoic asshole’s help.
So.
Damn.
Close.
My heart pounds, the wheels rolling nearer.
Nearer.
There’s the clattering sound of my meal being tossed between the bars, and something cold and wet splashes against my bare foot.
“Thank you!” I yell with a little extraoomph, figuring if I don’t continue to boast my gratitude for the moldy slop, he might work out that I’m up to something.
No response.
He pushes the cart from view, and I wait, counting every moon on the ceiling three times before dashing off the blanket. “Ready?” I ask, lifting Nee.
She jiggles her wings.
