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“I packed some spares as well, though,” I tell him.
“Perfect.”
We sit there in silence, both unsure of what else to say to the other. In the wake of what happened between us, any conversation feels strained and awkward now.
When Gunnar approaches with our things, I’m relieved for the chance to do anything other than think.
Einar blocks my body from view while he speaks with Gunnar, even though I’m wrapped in his cloak. The sounds of their voices fade as it strikes me that his clothes aren’t frozen icicles as mine are, a fact I should’ve noted earlier.
We hadn’t discussed what happened or how he found me, but this whole time, I had thought he was the one who pulled me from the lake.
I run fingers over the small cuts in my shoulder where some of the most searing pain had been felt. Two puncture wounds are on one side of my collarbone, and two matching ones are on the other.
The sound of Khijha’s purring drifts from around the corner of the cave. Immediately, I remember the four gleaming metallic canines that she possesses, and I’m awestruck, if not confused. I rub my fingers over the puncture wounds, shaking my head in disbelief.
They are smaller than they should be, and already scabbing over.Maybe the springs really are healing.It would hardly be the strangest thing I’ve seen in Jokith.
Einar has dug my clothes out of my satchel, and he hands them to me as he and Gunnar turn away to give me a modicum of privacy to dress.
My body has been on enough display for one day, so I decide to take it a step further and travel around the corner where I know my chalyx is waiting. It doesn’t take me long to don the new trousers, tunic, and boots. Then, I wrangle my tangled hair into a braid.
Despite hearing Khijha’s purrs, she isn’t in this corridor. I follow her sound further down and tentatively turn the corner, my path lit by the strange glowing water of the hot springs, when a warm gust of air comes wafting toward me.
Even more curious how a breeze made its way this far into the caves, I continue on. The purrs are growing louder as I turn another corner, and I am about to open my mouth to call for my chalyx when I come face to face with a different mythical creature.
It’s the dragon.
Chapter Forty-Three
Igasp and skitter back against the wall, pressing myself flush against the rock, as if that will somehow prevent the creature from seeing me.
Khijha looks up in curiosity before she goes back to rubbing her nose and whiskers against the dragon’s scales. I open my mouth to beckon her away, but no sound comes out.
I thought I knew fear — I’d faced my worst one when I was drowning — but this is something else entirely.
The dragon’s eyes are closed and, each time it exhales, glowing embers alight in its nostrils and a gust of thermal air comes wafting toward me. It smells like campfire and is oddly soothing for a creature purported to eat the impure.
I shudder, but Khijha continues to cuddle close to the giant beast while it remains asleep and blissfully unaware of our presence.
This close, it’s the size of two houses stacked atop one another.
Its pearly-white and silver scales glisten like starlight,like the moonstone in my wedding ring,while its massive wings cradle its body almost like a blanket. I cannot deny its beauty, but I also cannot deny the way my mouth has gone dry or the rapid rise and fall of my chest. Or, the strange longing I have to reach out and touch it but run away at the same time.
I hear footsteps nearby and barely turn in time to clasp my hand over Einar’s mouth before he speaks and wakes our inevitable doom. His eyes are wide, and his body is tense as he follows my gaze to the firedrake behind me.
When he nods in understanding, I remove my hand from his mouth. Khijha glances back at us, and I silently urge her to come to me. She tilts her head in confusion, then looks back to the dragon like she doesn’t want to leave, but she eventually follows me as Einar and I tiptoe away.
When we make it back to Gunnar, Einar’s voice is far quieter than it had been before as he insists we be on our way.
I’m still in shock, speechless, and terrified, but I don’t miss how he neglects to mention the dragon. The king has always been a man of few words, but I sense that it's more than that. The glance he shoots me confirms it.
He is protecting it. And he doesn't have to tell me why.
Whether Gunnar is trustworthy or not, there are always people out there who are willing to pay for information, who are willing to hurt the innocent for what they can get out of it, and I can only imagine what someone might pay for something so exotic. Or its parts.
Besides, it's only fitting. I think about what I have seen in Jokith thus far — the massive wolves and the giant horses and my rapidly growing kitten — and I can only imagine what manner of beasts lurking in the forest and the mountains, any one of which might have wandered into a cave to seek heat.
Yet, we were unbothered last night. Unintentionally or not, the dragon had protected us, too.
