Dragonbound(18)

“This isn’t about how I look. Not my face, I mean.”
And then I know what he must have seen in the mirror that bothered him so much, even before he gestures to his neck. To the dragon ring.
It looks really bad. I knew that already, but seeing it up close is even worse. Swollen, blotchy, red patches creep up and down his neck, reaching under his skin with twisting fingers. There are still marks where he must have scratched, though they’re open and oozing now, instead of healing like the rest of him.
I have no idea what to say. I’m sure if I open my mouth, it’ll be the wrong thing. Not that it matters, though, right? He’s a dragon, and he deserves this. Except those thoughts don’t sit right with me. I don’t know if he deserves it or not, and it’s hard to sit next to someone who’s so obviously upset and do nothing.
He’s also a liar. A con artist.
You can’t trust a single thing he says.
Celeste’s words come back to me, and I can’t help wondering how true they are. Amelrik never asked me for anything, just like I told Torrin. He didn’t ask me to free him, and I believed the fear in his eyes when he thought he was about to be executed. But now here we are. He’s free, just like he said he would be.
And wouldn’t that be the best kind of trickery? If the person being tricked never even knew it had happened? If they thought the whole thing was their idea?
A chill runs down my spine. Everything he’s ever said to me could have been a carefully orchestrated lie. One that everyone warned me about, and I didn’t listen.
And yet, if he’s telling the truth, then this is my only chance to get Celeste back. There’s also no way I’m staying here and getting married to Lord Varrens. I’m running away today, with or without Amelrik.
I glance over at him. He’s staring at his hands now, inspecting the blood that’s stained the lines of his palms. “Don’t worry, Virgin,” he says, not looking up. “I haven’t gone mad.”
Not yet, he means. “So it’s true. What Torrin said.”
“You really don’t know anything. No wonder they’re marrying you off.”
“I know that a dragon killed my mother. Right in front of me, in the marketplace. We knew him. We thought he was human. That’s what you do, right? That’s your specialty—pretending to be human and getting people to trust you. But one day he transformed and ripped her to shreds. So maybe all dragons are mad to begin with, even without the rings.” 
Amelrik studies my face. His eyes are still bloodshot, and the red makes the green of his irises that much more vivid. “I never asked you to trust me. I never asked anyone to.”
“But everyone that has . . . they ended up dead, didn’t they?”
He looks away, which is as good an answer as any. “I did what I had to. Just like I’m doing now. Just like we both are.”
“I’ll take the ring off as soon as we find Celeste.”
“And then there’ll be another St. George free in the world.” He makes a disgusted sound. “She’s the one who put this ring on me. She’s the one who did this.” He gestures to his chest, to whatever’s wrong with his ribs. “And your best friend did this.” He points to the bruises on his face, then to his right leg, the one he was limping on. “Some company you keep. And now, in order to get this ring off, you’d make me help her.”
“She’s my sister. She’s all I have. Whatever she did to you . . .” I swallow. “It was her job. It’s what she had to do.” Even if it was awful.
He scoffs. “They wanted to know how to find Lothar. I wanted them to kill him. I was counting on it.” He mutters that last part, then shakes his head. “I would have told them without the beating.”
“But you’re a liar. You’ve built up a reputation for conning paladins and getting them killed.”
“Good thing you’re not one of them, then, eh?”
“The truth comes from pain.” It’s a paladin saying.
Amelrik’s eyes blaze. The reddish light of the dragon ring glows brighter. He scoots away from me, then jumps up from the bed, like he can’t stand to be next to me for even one more second. “And how much truth did my mother have left when you St. Georges were done with her? How much?! Your mother might be dead, but at least you knew who she was. You knew that she—” He swallows down the words, not finishing whatever he was about to say. “There are worse ways to die than being ripped apart. There’s the slow, lingering kind of death, the kind that eats away at you, bit by bit, until not even a shadow remains of who you used to be. Only lies come from pain—not the truth.”
“I didn’t know. About your mother. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“How do you know?” Not that I want him to think I go around torturing people’s mothers. Or anyone, really.
“You probably weren’t even born yet. And it didn’t happen here.”
“Still. That’s horrible.”
“Just promise me something. Don’t let me die with this ring on. And if something happens, if I . . .” He presses his forehead to the wall for a second, then looks back up at me, his eyes meeting mine. “If I go insane, if I start to lose it, promise you’ll kill me.”
“What?”
“Just promise me. Because I’d rather be executed today than live knowing what I might do if I end up like her.”
“Okay.” My voice shakes, and it doesn’t sound much like a promise.
“Okay, what?”
I feel sick as I say the words. “If you go crazy, I’ll—I’ll kill you. And I won’t let you die with that ring on.” Two promises I know I can’t keep.
But Amelrik nods, seeming satisfied, and I just hope it doesn’t come to that.
13JUST BECAUSE I WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE TODAY DOESN’T MEAN IT’S OKAY TO GET ME KILLED
I take Amelrik up to the wall that surrounds the city. We don’t even have to leave the barracks to get there, and then it’s just a matter of creeping a little ways over to the spot closest to the river. They haven’t stopped the search for him yet, but I’m supposed to be at the altar in half an hour. I should be putting on my dress right now—no, I should already have it on—and we don’t have time to wait.
From up here, I can see the forest stretching off to the east. There are mountains in the distance. Some of them are farther away than others, obscured by more and more layers of mist. I take a deep breath, savoring the view, because who knows if I’ll ever see it again.
Plus, looking out at the mountains is way less scary than looking down at the river rushing below us—kind of really far below us, actually—like Amelrik’s doing.
“You must be used to this.”
He frowns. “Used to what? Jumping to my death?”
“Yeah. Well, no, but you must get to see everything from up high all the time. This must be nothing to a dragon. Just another ho-hum breathtaking view from above.”
“Right. Ho-hum.” He gazes out over the trees and sighs, and the longing in his voice is unmistakable.
He probably wishes he was flying right now, and here I am, rubbing it in. I wonder what he looks like, in dragon form, and what it would be like to fly. Maybe if I had wings, leaving the safety of the barracks would be easier. If I could just take off, go wherever I wanted, and then zoom right back as soon as anything bad happened . . .
The thought of that kind of freedom makes my stomach drop. It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time. But the idea of leaving the barracks at all—wings or no wings—is overwhelming, and when I look down at the river, my vision blurs and I feel like I’m going to throw up. A wave of dizziness hits me. I lose track of which way is up, and my legs start to buckle.
Amelrik grabs my arm to steady me.
“Let go,” I snap, trying to jerk away out of instinct.
He keeps his hold on me. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“I come up here all the time. I just . . .” I just can’t handle the thought of leaving. It’s not even like I want to stay here. Two dragons infiltrated Celeste’s party only a week ago, and now one escaped from prison. And, okay, I’m the one that busted him out, but still. Any illusions of safety the barracks held are broken. Torrin will never love me the way I want him to, Celeste is missing, and my father can’t get rid of me fast enough. If I stay, I’ll have to marry Lord Varrens. I’ll have to let him climb on top of me and do whatever he wants to me, and I’ll have to bear his children. If I don’t leave the barracks right now, that’ll be my life. Forever. 
I’d rather face whatever unknown dangers wait beyond the city walls. Or at least I tell myself that, and logically, I know it’s true. But my body doesn’t respond to logic, and my chest gets tight.
I’m going to suffocate. I can’t get enough air.
And Torrin thinks this is a choice. That I could just decide to be normal and leave if I really wanted to.
“Hey,” Amelrik says. “You’re still on the wall. It’s okay.”
I nod, trying to calm down enough to breathe properly again.
“Though this is kind of a stupid escape plan if you’re afraid of heights.”