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I closed my eyes and faked a snore. He chuckled.

“Miss Pendragon? Lord Drakharrow? I can hear you in there, you know.”

“Do dwarves have superior hearing?” Blake whispered. Aloud, he called, “Lord Drakharrow is my uncle, Zaira.”

“Very well. Mr. Drakharrow, then. Or do you prefer Black Prince as your title?”

“Fuck, I hate that title,” Blake grumbled. “I managed to get them to stop using it at the school. Where the hell did she hear it?”

“I have a feeling Zaira knows a lot of things about us that we don’t realize—and that she shouldn’t,” I said with resignation.

“Or perhaps Professor is more in order?” Zaira called more loudly from the other side of the door.

Blake’s face was hysterical.

“Oh gods,” I gasped. “Does that mean she was here earlier?”

“First Stone Keeper? First Head Witch is more like it,” Blake complained, as he scrambled out of bed and searched for a pair of pants. “The woman is insufferable. Whatever she heard, she deserved to hear. She shouldn’t have been eavesdropping,” he said, raising his voice a little.

From behind the door, Zaira had gone silent again. I tried not to giggle too much as I pulled on one of Blake’s wool sweaters and a pair of leggings. Blake had set aside a drawer for me, and I’d left a few things at his place.

There was another knock. Louder and more insistent. “I really must insist you open this door. It’s a matter of some urgency.”

“Coming, coming,” Blake called. He strode to the door and yanked it open. “Well, well. What a pleasure to see you twice in one day, First Stone Keeper.”

Zaira sniffed. “Yes, well, if you don’t mind, perhaps we can have this conversation elsewhere.”

“You don’t want to come in?” Blake said, baring his fangs a little. “You wound me, Zaira. I promise I don’t bite.”

The dark-haired woman’s eyes widened slightly, then she frowned. “I don’t frighten easily, Mr. Drakharrow. I can assure you of that.”

Blake grinned. “No, I can see that. So, what can we do for you?”

“Are we really going to stand speaking here in the doorway where anyone can hear?” Zaira looked annoyed. “Very well.” She looked at Blake, then glanced over at me. “I saw a red dragon flying through the skies earlier this evening.”

“Did you? How fascinating. Wonder who it was. Maybe Viktor flew back from the Bonewood,” Blake drawled.

“Stop playing games, Mr. Drakharrow,” Zaira snapped. “Is there something you’d like to share with me? Need I remind you the fate of our entire world may rest upon the answer you give?”

“Way to pressure a man,” Blake mumbled.

I walked over to the doorway, slipping a hand around Blake’s waist as he draped his arm over my shoulders. “There are two Inferni dragons in Sangratha.” I waited a moment, letting myself enjoy the stunned look on her face, then added, “Blake is the second.”

Chapter 35

REGAN

I looked out the tower window. Down below, on the hills, students were walking back up from a class in the greenhouse. The sun was shining, reflecting off the silver sea. In the distance, a ship moved slowly across the horizon. How could the world still be doing such ordinary things?

I moved away from the window and back to the bed. The room they’d put me in was lovely, all pale whites and shimmering silvers. I was used to Drakharrow colors, deep reds and darkest blacks. I lay back down on my bed. The frame was low and carved from a pale wood bleached nearly white. I pulled the thick quilt over me, a silver satin that reminded me of moonlit water. The air was clean. It smelled fresh and of sea spray and freedom.

Kage and Lysander had brought me here that first day. They hadn’t taken me to the infirmary but made the healers come to me instead, somehow knowing I wouldn’t want to be seen by students. The Avari Tower was safe, they’d promised. The tower had been warded. No one could hurt me. No one would bother me here except the healers. They came every morning without fail. They checked my bruises and cuts. They clucked over my incisions. They bandaged my wrists where the chains had rubbed my skin raw. Healer Elycia’s face had been grim when she’d seen my throat, still grimmer when she’d seen the state of my thighs. The burns there hadn’t healed, but the worst of the pain was gone, replaced by an aching tightness that flared when I moved too quickly. They’d fade, but not completely. Dragon fire, Elycia told me, didn’t like to let go. It was a miracle the burns hadn’t become infected, she said. A miracle I was still alive. My body was healing. It knew what to do, even if my mind didn’t.

She’d been very kind. But after a few days, I stopped opening the door when a healer came. After a few more, I stopped bringing in the trays of food. Instead, I lay in the bed, replaying things over and over. As if there was some way I could go back and change things with enough repetition. If I ran it through enough times, could I find the moment I’d missed? The fraction of a second where I might have made a different choice?

I was here. But Florence Shen was still in chains. I closed my eyes. It should have been me in her place. It had already been too late for me; I hadn’t been worth saving. But Florence … The girl was innocent; you only had to look at her to see that. She wasn’t used to pain or cruelty. I could take it, but she’d break like a dry branch.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the sky through the window. A knock sounded at the door. It was late afternoon, so it probably wasn’t a healer. I didn’t move. The knock came again. “Go away,” I called, trying to speed things up.