Gareth studies my right eye, his brow furrowed and a small, thoughtful frown on his face.
I glance back at the platform I just conquered. “That will do for today, I hope?”
“Yes. I suppose it will.” He looks between me and Blight, his forehead still wrinkled with that contemplative expression. As his gaze settles back on my previously-blind eye, he lowers his face in a way that seems almost…reverent. Then he seems to catch himself, giving his head a little shake. His expression returns to the familiar stoic, slightly sour look.
He gives a few quick commands to the soldiers around us, then turns to leave.
Even though I'm used to him being a man of relatively few words, I'm surprised he doesn't have more to say about what just happened. But I don't try to stop him from making a quick exit. Hopefully, he's going straight to the king to share a report. The meeting that Reave was due to have with his advisors was likely delayed because of the turmoil in the city last night, which works out in my favor; it gave me the time I needed to prove my dragon bond was nofarce.
There can be no denying it after what happened this morning—especially not with so many witnesses.
Briar should be free by dinner time, if not before, and maybe I'll be able to negotiate supplies for the Burn based on my victory, too. The possibilities fill me with something warm and bright, and something I wasn't expecting to feel in this cursed place. Something like…gratitude.
As the last soldier follows Gareth out of the arena, I turn to face the chained dragon.
A rigid silence stretches between us, as it so often does, but I find the tension melting away with every step I take toward her. Movement isn't as painful as I'd expected; maybe because of the hint of her strength that's still humming through my veins.
It’s such a powerful gift that there's only one thing I can think to say once I'm standing in front of her.
“…Thank you.”
She exhales a soft huff of air, her intelligent eyes gleaming and her tail twitching.
I brace myself for her voice in my head, but it doesn't come.
Maybe because I'm not ready to hear it again, and she knows it.
A polished shield rests by her tail—one of the many gifts she's received this past week. Kneeling before it, I take in my reflection. The extensive scarring around my right eye remains, a reminder of what I’ve been through. But the eye itself isn't the grim, milky white I'm used to seeing. Instead, it's gold, with a slit pupil cutting vertically through the center.
Like a dragon's eye.
Staring at it sends a flood of confusing emotions through me. My chest feels tight. My body, numb.
I have to leave.
Now.
The moment I step away from the arena, away from the dragon, the vision in my right eye begins to fade. It's like watching a bright day dwindling to a moonless night, so much color and depth slipping just out of my reach...
And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
Within minutes, I'm back to living in the half-world I've inhabited for years. It feels like having an old wound ripped open. Tears start to well up. I quickly swipe them away. I've grieved this particular loss enough for one lifetime, haven't I? What does it matter if it's gone away again?
If only grief could have neat, precise endings.
I've found this is never the case, though. And surviving traumatic things doesn’t mean they end; it just means learning to live with them over and over again, in different ways, as they change shape.
I press my palm over my ruined eye as I walk, trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to feel. A dragon took my sight. Now another has given it back, if only for a moment, if only when we're connected…
But it doesn't really make thingseven, does it?
Part of me is still humming with the power and potential of the bond. Another part can only think about how cruel it is that my vision is within reach, yet it isn't truly mine anymore. I have to borrow it. Beg for it. Accept help from one of the very creatures who stole it in the first place.
I make it to my room just before the emotions get overwhelming, the tears coming faster than I can wipe them away.
It's stupid to cry over this.
Iknowit is.
