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“My mother was never fully honest with our people about the state of the kingdom,” I say slowly. “But I believe honesty is important, especially when the decisions being made affect everyone. So I will tell you now, what the dragons’ true purpose is. They have captured an enchantress—the daughter of the Supreme Sorcerer. When the princes flew away from here, they were going to meet with her. They want her to turn all of us into dragons.”
The women gasp, and two of them start crying.
“In less than a week, the mating season begins,” I explain. “It occurs once every twenty-five years. Every dragon on this island will be compelled to mate. They will give us a choice of partners, but my understanding is that the compulsion is so strong, we’ll want to participate in the heat, if we’re in dragon form. Some of us will lay dragon eggs as a result. We will be mothers to the hatchlings of our kidnappers.”
“No,” moans Brenée. “No, this can’t be happening.”
I turn to the black-haired girl, Gweneth. “Your plan is a good one. I just don’t think we have the time to make it work.”
“We could try.” Her tone is threaded with desperation. “We have to try something.”
“We could run,” suggests another captive. “Leave this place, spread out across the island. They’ll waste time hunting all of us down, and maybe some of us can gather the vines to poison them.”
“Gather them how?” says Jessiva. “The vines can poison us, too. We can’t touch them with our bare skin. And how would we persuade the dragons to ingest poisonous vines? They don’t consume cooked food, and we have no pots in which to cook it. Even if we did, they would see us putting the vines into the food.”
“The water supply?” suggests someone.
“There are water sources all over this island. We can’t poison them all.”
“Talking is getting us nowhere. We must choose.” I speak firmly, clearly. “Those who wish to run, go now, while there’s only one of them watching us. Run to the beach—maybe there’s a swamped boat that’s still somewhat seaworthy. Run to the forest—maybe you can find a weapon. I’m not sure whether they need us to be present for the spell, or whether it will be cast over the whole island, but if you want to flee, do it. If you want to fight, think of a strategy. If you want to stay and try to convince your dragon to take you back to the mainland and set you free, use every charm, every persuasive argument.”
“It would be best if we worked together,” Jessiva counters.
“But we can’t. We don’t agree on the best course of action, and none of our schemes seem likely to succeed. For my part, I think I’ll run. Maybe if they can’t find me, they can’t include me in the spell.”
Jessiva shakes her head. “Spells like that can be cast from a distance, targeted to a specific group of beings,” she says. “Hiding won’t protect you from the change.”
“It’s better than nothing. At least I won’t have to deal with the fucking Prince of Dragons anymore.”
Gweneth steps forward. “I’m running too.”
A few more of the women chime in with their agreement.
“I’m staying,” Jessiva says. “But we’ll distract them for you, so you can slip past the wall. Maybe it will take them a while to notice you’re gone. Be careful, though. Varex has spoken of creatures that inhabit this island and come out at night—dangerous predators that occasionally bring down the dragons themselves.”
The idea of something scarier than a dragon makes me think twice about my escape plan. But the other women who want to run have already gathered around me, and they seem to be looking for me to make the first move. So I swallow my apprehension and say, “Let’s find a place in the barrier where we can squeeze through. Then the rest of you can distract him somehow—” I point upward to the bronze dragon circling lazily in the air, high above the courtyard.
“I know what to do,” says Jessiva. “They want us for breeding, right? Which means they want us healthy, uninjured. So if we start a fight, and make it vicious—” She’s eyeing one of the other women, a tall, gorgeous, grim-jawed blonde with rich brown skin. Antagonism flickers between them, and I suspect they’ve had words, if not blows, before this moment.
“I will gladly help you make it look real,” says the blonde through her teeth.
“Very well.” What can I do but agree? Their private dispute isn’t my business. And I’m feeling the same rush of nervous energy that sent me to the city wall when the dragon alarm sounded. I need to do something, and since I have no weapon to fight the dragons this time, I will run from them.
“There’s a gap over there,” mutters Gweneth. “We’ve heard creatures snuffling around the wall at night, but they were all too large to squeeze through the barrier and not strong enough to leap over it. One of them shifted a log, though, and I think we can make it through.”
I start to ask if they glimpsed the predators at all, but enraged screeches from the far side of the courtyard interrupt me. Jessiva and the blonde are grappling with each other. The fight has begun.
The yelling catches the attention of the dragon guard overhead. He descends sharply, the wind of his wings stirring the loose dirt within the enclosure.
By good fortune, his back is to us as he faces Jessiva and the blonde. He begins speaking in Dragonish, then remembers they can’t understand him and switches to the Eventongue. I barely hear his reprimand to the quarreling women, because I’m too busy squeezing through the barrier behind Gweneth. Branches scratch my ribs, my arms, and my legs—new injuries added to my bruises. But with a little writhing and wriggling, I burst through with a lurch and a stagger. Gweneth grabs my arm, steadying me.
“Good luck to you, Princess.” Her dark eyes hold mine. “Keep to the trees.” Then she whirls and runs off into the forest like a deer leaping for freedom, her long legs easily clearing the undergrowth.
I glance back once to ensure that the others are making it through unnoticed. But I can’t help them now. Every woman must find her own fate.
Taking a deep breath, I start running.
Instead of racing full-out, I maintain a steady jog. I’m used to riding, walking, shooting a crossbow, and swimming occasionally, but when it comes to running, my stamina is poor. I need to pace myself so I can cover as much ground as possible before I have to rest.
