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Ipush open my front door and take a deep breath. The sun has finally set, ending what had to be one of the longest days of my life. I’ve spent most of this interminable day in my mother’s room, fanning air from the window, pressing a cold compress to the burning flesh of her forehead, and holding my own breath. Waiting to see if hers had stopped.
It didn’t stop. Thank the stars. I exhale slowly, tilting my head toward the sky. I’d watched the sun set in all her fiery glory from the window, and I’d watched the first few bold stars creep out into that velvet sky, seeing them but not really seeing them every time I lifted my eyes from the pile of blankets covering my mother’s form.
She’ll be fine until the morning, I tell myself. I’d whispered that to myself over and over, trying to find the nerve to come outside. To remind myself that, yes, there is a larger world out here. There is more to my life than the four walls of that room, the rows and rows of Ailen’s potions, to constant rotation of water and teas and ointments and all the other little necessities meant to ease her suffering.
No. I correct myself; they’re meant to keep my mother alive. Alive until Elyon comes through, at least. His replies to my request about traveling to the Iron Mountains with utmost discretion have been annoyingly cryptic, but he should be coming to the house with a plan tonight. Or tomorrow, at the latest.
At any rate, Ailen more or less kicked me out of the room before she left for the night. In that healer manner of hers that manages to be both kind and absolutely unyielding, Ailen told me my mother needed rest, and so did I. Then she packed her bags, pulled the door to my mother’s room shut, and gave me a look that could have frozen the water in a well.
And she’s not wrong. I pull another breath and let my feet guide me through my garden. I’ve always liked my garden best this way, under the soft embrace of night, by myself. Or perhaps not always by myself. Really, I suppose I liked it best when I was leading Rayne here, pretending this was all just as new and exciting to me as it was to her.
I huff out a sigh and let my shoulders curl forward. The Mothers only know what I’m going to find when Elyon finally gets us into the Iron Mountains. Ailen assures me that Mother will survive the journey, as long as it’s a quick one, but some part of me worries Ailen would say anything to get my mother to a draconic healer. And she’s right, damn it. There’s only so much a human can do for an ailing dragon.
Not that any of that matters right now. I walk slowly beneath the row of pines that line the bluff, skirting the exact spot where I’d spread the silk out for Rayne. I stop at the edge, link my hands behind my back, and let my eyes slide over Cairncliff. My beautiful city.
It’s later than I realized, judging by the number of darkened windows. A few lights still burn; the street lamps lining Noble’s Hill, of course, as well as the pubs down by the wharves. In the distance, a handful of fishing boats flash with lanterns, trying their luck at luring in a few of the shy, delicious nocturnal fish that haunt these waters. I rock forward on my toes, watching the road that leads to my shop.
Odd. The streetlight on the corner has gone out. The first prickling of alarm travels up the back of my neck. Street lights don’t just go out in Cairncliff, and especially not that particular streetlight. I would know; I was part of the committee that lobbied to get those street lights in the merchant’s district in the first place.
I lean forward, trying to peer through the murky distance between me and the shop I’ve been running for more years than I care to count. I can’t see anything, not at this distance, but the longer I look, the stronger this strange sense of apprehension grows. Perhaps I should just go down there—
A rush of wind flattens the grass in my garden, followed by the unmistakable sound of beating wings. Dragon wings.
My heart stops, even as my body tenses and prepares to transform. Magic pulls tight, ready to change all that I am into something more, something stronger and fiercer. My mind reels, screaming that it can’t possibly be him, he couldn’t have found us—
And a dragon spins downward toward the little patch of lawn outside my kitchen, its wings tucking and twisting awkwardly, like it’s in pain. I freeze. Small shimmers of light rising from my beautiful town flash crimson across this dragon’s wings and underbelly. It’s not Rensivar, then. Not the wicked enemy from legends, come to ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to build.
I exhale slowly, then step further into the shadows. I don’t recognize this particular red dragon, which sets off all sorts of alarm bells inside my mind. True, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Iron Mountains, but the world only holds so many dragons, and I should recognize damn near all of them.
The strange red dragon lands on the grass between me and my house with an awkward thud, and then pants heavily. It’s not always easy to tell, but I think this dragon is a female. And she’s exhausted. Her head twists toward my house. For a moment, there’s something in her eyes that looks almost like longing. Her mouth opens; her wings tremble. Then her eyes close, and her head curls in toward her chest.
The air around her begins to shimmer, like heat rising from a sun-baked road. I take a step closer, curious in spite of myself. I didn’t recognize this dragon, but perhaps I’ll recognize her human form. And at any rate, that clumsy landing and her clear exhaustion make it unlikely this dragon is a threat. Perhaps she’s part of Elyon’s plan to get me into the Iron Mountains discreetly, although honestly, having some unfamiliar dragon fly herself ragged and then land in my yard in the middle of the night would be a bit unprofessional of the stuffy elven diplomat.
There’s a low sort of hiss, the sound of air rushing in to fill the space that had just belonged to the much larger form of a dragon, and then the shimmering haze of magic subsides. In its place is a woman. A naked woman, with long, tangled red hair, who is staring at my house like she’s been looking for this place for her entire life.
I feel like I’m back in Rensivar’s dungeon, chained to the wall and delirious, convinced I’m hallucinating the very thing I most want to see in this or any other world. For a moment I’m afraid to breathe, worried I’ll shatter what has to be an illusion.
Rayne sways on her feet. I step forward, and she twists in place, like she’s trying to reach something just beyond her. By the time I’m moving toward her, it’s too late. Rayne falls to the grass slowly, almost gently, and I can’t reach her in time.
Her soft, naked body hits the ground with a little thud as I sprint across the garden, yanking my cloak off my back. I fall to my knees before her, this woman who cannot possibly be here, the dragon who’s filled my dreams every night since I kissed her in this garden. Her fiery hair spreads across the grass, dim as embers, and she’s so damned pale in this human form, with dark circles like bruises beneath her eyes. I drape my cloak over her body, then brush my fingers across her cheek.
“Rayne,” I whisper. “Stars above, Rayne, my—”
I snap my mouth closed, stopping myself before I can whisper some stupid little term of endearment that won’t be appreciated. However much this woman has come to mean to me, my feelings are clearly not reciprocated.
Something in my chest twists as the memory of rain-swept ramparts rises in my mind. Rayne, her hair dripping down her back, her eyes wide and her lips trembling as she told me she couldn’t go with me. That she had to stay with her king.
Rayne’s eyelids flutter, revealing dark pools that are more gray than blue in the starlight. A sound comes out of her lips, something halfway between a sigh and whimper, and then her eyes open. Her gaze falls from the stars to me, and when our eyes meet, a smile spreads across her face that’s so beautiful I feel like something inside of me is breaking.
Mothers above, it hurts to love someone. How had I forgotten?
“Doshir,” she whispers, and it sounds almost like she’s saying something else.Home, perhaps.
“I’m here,” I answer.
A shadow moves across her eyes, and her smile fades.
“Something I need to tell you,” she whispers.
