Page 26 of A Matter of Dragons

A dragon. A second fucking dragon. As I watched, the dragon rose into the air and then flew toward the Knife’s Edge mountains, holding low over the trees, almost as though it were trying to hide. I watched until it vanished into the shadows along the Knife’s Edge mountains, and then I slowly realized I was still standing in a married man’s garden, my toes throbbing inside my tight boots, my dagger clenched in my fist, and the taste of frost wine slowly turning bitter in my mouth.

Fuck. I spat on the ground and kicked the garden door a second time, somewhat halfheartedly. Another round of screaming rose from the good citizens of Cairncliff as I wrenched the garden door open and slipped through. There was a corresponding roar from the sky above. I hurried to the end of the alleyway and spilled into the open street in time to see another streak of flame rip through the night sky. But this time the flame was aimed at the Knife’s Edge mountains and not the town.

Good. I sheathed my dagger, smoothed down the front of my dress, and tried to summon the last few pathetic scraps of my lady-like dignity. This night, whatever it had been for me personally, was good news for our mission. Everyone in town would be talking about the dragon now. Whoever dispatched that foul beast would be a hero.

A hero for Valgros, I corrected myself. Eadberh and I were here to spread the glory of our kingdom. Valgros wasn’t a savage, backwater settlement; Valgros was the home of dragon slayers.

I sighed as my feet dragged across the cobblestones and the remains of the frost wine shifted uneasily in my gut. I was sore, I was exhausted, and the beginnings of a headache were starting to beat at my temples. I didn’t feel much like a dragon slayer. I felt like I should have told Eadberh and his fling to get the fuck out of our room hours ago. Or like I should have stabbed Doshir when I’d had the chance.

The thought of stabbing Doshir made me feel slightly better. I craned my neck, following the dragon’s progress. She was clearly heading away from Cairncliff now, her wings beating against the stars as she made her way back to the Knife’s Edge mountains. And there, on the distant mountainside, a third fire was now burning. I raised my hands to the sky, framing that third fire, memorizing its location against the gaudy spires of a nearby mansion. I took several mental measurements, checking the new fire on the mountainside against the mansion, the tree across the street, and the nearest lamp post, until I was certain I could find that exact spot again.

The dragon in the sky roared again, but her voice had been softened by distance. She was descending quickly, her form fading against the jagged darkness of the Knife’s Edge mountains. I watched the mountainside, biting my lip. The second dragon had flown in that direction. That second dragon had lit the third fire, I was certain of it. And that third fire had somehow called the dragon from the sky above Cairncliff back to the mountains.

Wherever that fire was on the mountainside, it was important to the dragon. Perhaps to both the dragons.

I watched until the second dragon’s form was lost against the greater shadow of the Knife’s Edge mountains and then turned back to the street. I’d bring Eadberh here tomorrow, in the daylight, to identify the place where the third fire was burning. Then we’d plan our assault on the Knife’s Edge. And our assault on the dragon. Or the dragons.

I was almost back to the inn when it occurred to me to wonder if Doshir had seen the dragon rise into the sky over his house. Or maybe the married son of a bitch had been eaten by the dragon. I sank my teeth into my lower lip; oddly, that thought was not at all comforting.

The common room of the Master and Mistress was almost empty when I arrived. The fire had burned low. A small knot of men around the bar was talking in hushed tones, and every other word seemed to be dragon. They hardly looked up as I dragged myself past them and climbed the staircase.

I hesitated for a moment outside the door to our room, waiting until I heard the deep rattle of Eadberh’s ponderous snores. Good. I didn’t think I could handle it if he was still going at it with the blond musician. I stuck my key in the hole, lifted the latch, and eased the door open, wincing as the hinges squealed. But at least the door swung wide open this time; Eadberh had been courteous enough to move the dresser.

I slipped inside, shut the door, and began savagely attacking the lacing on my dress. Only after I’d pulled off the bodice and stepped out of the skirts did I notice the second, more delicate snore rising from the bed on Eadberh’s side of the room.

“Shit,” I whispered.

I yanked the blanket from my own bed, wrapped it around my almost-naked body, and then narrowed my eyes at Eadberh’s side of the room. Sure enough, there were two heads on his pillow. Oh, that bastard! I’d been very clear about my preferences for his random one-night stands. Do whatever you want, I’d said, but kick them out when you’re done. The last thing I wanted was to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with some random lecherous man staring down at me.

I kicked someone’s boot under my bed and sank down on my mattress with a huff. Fuck Eadberh. Fuck the guy he’d let spend the night in our room, despite our clear agreement beforehand. And fuck Doshir too, while I was at it. Kings, fuck all of them, every single man in my entire life who’d used me and then let me down. Even—

King Donovan’s full, round face surfaced in my memory. I shoved it down with a shudder. It was one thing to be mad at the damningly handsome man who’d claimed to be sneaking me into someone else’s garden, but those kinds of thoughts about King Donavan were treason. I’d seen men hanged for less. Women, too.

Shivering, I pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders and let my gaze drift out the window beside my bed. I could still see the three tiny fires blazing on the shoulders of the Knife’s Edge mountains. I raised my fingers to the glass, tracing the pinpricks of life. Somewhere out there, I thought, are the dragons.

The dragons I will kill.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Doshir

My wings beat against the night, carrying me low and fast over the rough terrain outside of Cairncliff. I knew the Knife’s Edge mountains almost as well as I knew the streets of town, and there were only a half dozen caves in those mountains that I’d consider almost habitable. Mother had said Mad Scarlett was near the pass, which narrowed it down even further.

I swerved, following the road as it curved upward. My mind swirled with questions. What in the name of all the Mothers was Mad Scarlett doing here? Why Cairncliff, why the Knife’s Edge mountains? There was absolutely nothing about this sleepy little town that was of any interest to dragons; that was why my father had chosen this as his home base, and why I’d stayed here for most of my life.

And why, out of all the nights of her long life, had Mad Scarlett chosen tonight to rise screaming into the air spraying fire like a mad, burning fountain? Why ruin the one date I’d had in decades?

I stretched my wings as the foothills rose before me. The road snaked away here, avoiding a series of small, steep hills known as either the Witch’s Fingers or the Witch’s Tits, depending on the company. I flew straight overhead, my eyes narrowed at the mountainside. Mad Scarlett had set two fires, but we’d had a wet spring, and they didn’t appear to be spreading. Neither fire was anywhere near the cave I suspected she’d claimed for herself. Apparently, she wasn’t quite mad enough to set fire to her own doorstep.

The edge of a thermal rising from the heat-baked rock of the Witch’s Fingers rippled along my wing. I spun out, letting the thermal lift me into the air. I was far enough from Cairncliff now that no human eyes would see me against the bulk of the mountain.

Human eyes. Rayne's brilliant blue eyes sparkled in my memory with almost painful intensity. The way she’d stared at me when I’d opened the door to the shop. The way her eyes had narrowed over her glass of frost wine, then opened in awe. The sound of her laugh when I’d shared my hatching day prophecy.

Maybe it wasn’t too late? I knew where she was staying. Perhaps I could show up there tomorrow morning with a bouquet of flowers, apologize, and tell her—

Tell her what, exactly? That yes, I was a dragon, and I knew the other dragon that had terrified the shit out of everyone in Cairncliff last night? Damn, she was from Valgros. She’d probably never even seen an elf before arriving here, let alone a dragon. And what exactly would a beautiful woman think was more likely to be true— that I’d lied by omission by not mentioning my wife, or that I was a terrifying creature straight out of myths and legends who was also, by the way, not at all married? I tightened my talons and pressed my teeth together. Yeah. Sure. That would go over fucking great.

No, I’d just completely blown my chances with Rayne. She’d go back to Valgros thinking men in Cairncliff were just like men everywhere else. Lying scumbags.