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You, I blast into his mind, you’re…you’re in league with Meguh!
The dragon’s mismatched eyes lower to meet mine. I swing up for another kick, but it’s pointless. As before, I barely have time to blink before his head comes bashing into my skull.
I jerk to the side, dodging the brunt of the strike. Even then, the whole world goes ringing, and I clench my jaw as my head throbs, overwhelmed by a febrile heat. Gods, I wish it were my breath, not my blood, that were poison. Oh, the hell I would unleash if that were the case!
I spit at the dragon, then turn to spit at Meguh. But the king plucks off my wooden mask. And at the sight of me, he does something no one has ever done before.
He lets out a low, approving whistle.
The sound makes the fire in my gut go out. I’m suddenly cold, suddenly afraid.
“A true wildling,” he murmurs in my ear. “You’ll be the prize of my collection.”
Dakuok appears at Meguh’s side. The arc of my blade is carved into his skin, like one of the swooping letters Vanna’s tutors used to make her practice. It must hurt hellishly.
“Be careful,” the priest rasps. His eyes glitter with hate. “She’s a demon, that one.”
“Fortunately, I have experience with demons.” Meguh throws the priest a disgusted look. “Clean yourself, old man.”
Chastened, Dakuok wipes at the blood dripping down his face. He straightens his robes too, which are rumpled from our earlier encounter.
“Better,” says Meguh. He’s found my knife, and he taps it idly against his palm. “Now…what will you tell her father if I take her?”
“Doesn’t matter. Khuan will be glad to be rid of her.”
Dakuok knows just how to hurt me. His words about my father sting—because I know they’re true.
Meguh grunts. “Makes me wonder what he did in his past life to father such children. One the greatest beauty this world has seen, and the other a monster.” The king chortles, and Dakuok joins him. The dragon doesn’t make a sound. Neither do I. I can’t even call out to Ukar, for fear that the dragon might hear me and tattle to Meguh.
I’m on my own, and I fight to lurch free. The dragon has to use both hands to hold me still. A small victory. At least I’m not that much weaker.
Meguh’s laughter fades, and he glances at me struggling against the dragon. When he addresses Dakuok next, his voice takes a darker tone: “What will you tell Prince Rongyo?”
“That she ran away into the jungle. Who would blame her? They’d make a mockery of her in Rongyo’s court.”
“True enough. It’s a deal, priest.”
The king flicks a hand, and one of his manservants passes Dakuok a heavy pouch of coins.
Dakuok’s eyes light up with glee, and he bows low. “The wards are lifted, so you may depart, Your Majesty,” he says. “I will return to my prayers.”
“Indeed you shall.” Meguh abruptly raises his chin, and his guards tackle the shaman.
“What are you—” Dakuok’s cry turns into an ugly grunt. He stretches hopelessly for a bronze bell hanging from the ceiling.
But Meguh falls upon him, with a little knife raised high. My knife. One thrust down, and Dakuok drops flat against the ground. His panicked eyes turn to me. He is already graying. He garbles something I can’t understand. A plea for my help, perhaps? Or a command to his priests outside. I’ll never know.
Meguh takes the knife out of Dakuok’s belly and slits the old man’s throat.
I don’t want to watch, but I can’t turn away. The priest is choking on his own blood. His eyes roll back in his head, and his once-slippery eyebrows form a wrinkled knot. Then his muscles release, and he finds peace.
“A holy man should not be so mercenary,” King Meguh says, retrieving his heavy pouch of gold coins and tsking at the dead shaman. “Disgraceful, putting on an auction to raise money for the temple. Don’t you think, Channari?”
I don’t have time to respond. From above, Ukar falls over the dragon’s eyes and bites him in the arm so he’ll release me.
Go, Channi! Ukar cries as the dragon flings him against the wall.
I run. Meguh’s guards try to chase me, but I’m faster than any of them. I’m not, however, faster than the dragon.
