A Shade of Dragon 2(52)

 



It was during the same twilight in which the dead of the fire and ice armies were buried that Theon and I were wed. I was still clothed in the white garments of a bride-to-be, garments into which Lethe had forced me, hoping to coerce the same bond from me that had naturally sprung between Theon and I.

Although his mother suggested that we marry in the shelter, for it was safer to stay out of sight—and I had to respect her practicality—I also balked at the notion. “How safe are we here? In an enclosed space of which the ice dragons are now well aware? They can come back at any time; they don’t need to see anything anymore. We’re just as safe outside as in, and”—my eyes roved over the interior of the cavern, with its splashes of blood, its sooty craters, the collapsed piles of stone choking doorways—“forgive me for saying that this is not the most romantic of settings for a wedding.”

Mrs. Aena demurred with a smile of understanding. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve forgotten how it felt to be young, and to want everything to be just so.”

When we ascended the earthen stairwell and let ourselves out of the slanted wooden doorway, The Hearthlands beyond were a different world than I had ever seen. The last time I’d been aboveground, the snow had been slushy, the mud thick. For this moment, however—while the astrolabe slowly reset its stars and planets—the world was lush and green again. The sky was clear. The sun was going down, and deep pink and purple streaks laced the sky. A cool breeze threaded through our hair, and I knew that it was only the labor pains of a much deeper cold settling in.

But Theon took my hand, and I reveled in his warmth, as I always did. I had somehow become used to Lethe’s icy touch, and almost forgotten the comfort of Theon’s body—much less of Theon himself.

Einhen, one of the priests of the royal court, stood before us with one arm in a sling and an ancient, fraying book open in his good hand. He read from this, explaining to us exactly what was expected of a couple married in The Hearthlands. “You will be one flesh,” he commanded. “Theon Aena, both human and dragon, fire and prince; Penelope Aena, both human and dragon, fire and princess. You cannot wish the other ill, or act against them, for to do so is to act against your own body. When Theon fights, so shall Penelope; when Penelope labors, so shall Theon. There is no difference between these two anymore. They are one. They are complete. So seal this decree with the fusion of their lips, never again to part.”

Theon pulled me into his embrace and, when our lips touched, it seemed that they grew together like two foreign plants, forming a tangle of some second, new vine, and I had to wonder if the magic of this world imbued the ceremony, for when we separated, I no longer felt as if I was staring at a man I loved; I felt as if I was beholding another part of myself reflected back at me, rediscovered through the looking glass.





Nell





In spite of how a bride might picture her wedding night, we didn’t exactly spend it sipping champagne on a bed of rose petals. We spent it packing, preparing ourselves for the coming storms, and abandoning the shelter on foot. Deciding that the skies were no longer safe, the two of us were relegated to the coverage of barren trees. Theon tried to convince his mother to come with us, but she insisted on staying behind and helping the few remaining fire dragons to booby-trap the shelter with fire tricks. “This shelter took almost ten years to outfit,” she explained. “We cannot let it be destroyed overnight. Not by the lowness of ice dragons—and not without taking away their men, as they took away our women so many years ago.” I was surprised to hear her speak so harshly, but then, I could only imagine the harshness of my words if Theon was ever taken from my side again.

Theon and I forged together through the winds as their bite increased against our faces, our fingertips. Although we began our voyage in simple day clothes, within an hour or so, we needed to don hats and scarves in order to protect ourselves from the dropping temperature.

“It’s coming,” Theon warned me. He grimaced and we pulled forward into the winds. “The astrolabe has put the stars back into their secondary positions.”

I hadn’t noticed, but, glancing up at the sky, I did wonder if they held the same positions as the night before again.

It was very late when we reached the city walls again; part of me was surprised to look upon them. It was such an affront to logic that I would return to the castle which had held me prisoner until I had lost all track of time. But love is an affront to logic.

We were bundled heavily in our furs now. We had moved as quickly as possible, with an almost cavalier regard for our own safety, and yet we still had not beaten the cold front. It would surely be snowing soon enough.