Actually, he seems kind of uncomfortable now, but I think that’s just the rain. He said before that it makes his wings ache, and he keeps stretching out his arms and rolling his shoulders.
Above us, dragons whirl through the sky. Two teams of five compete at a time, racing in formation in specific patterns around the lake. The first team to finish goes on to the next round. Smashing into your opponents seems to be allowed, but only as long as nobody breaks formation. It’s pretty intense, and we’ve already seen two teams get disqualified because one of their members fell into the lake. Actually, one of them hit the cliff first, then fell into the water, and a couple other dragons—who seem to have been posted around the lake in case of emergencies—dove in to make sure they got back out again.
After the round ends, a dragon shouts in Vairlin, announcing the next teams. I can’t understand a word of it, but Amelrik nudges me and says, “Odilia’s team is up.”
This is the round we’ve really been waiting for—or at least that I have, since I don’t know anyone else who’s competing—but there are ten dragons on the cliff getting ready to take off, and I have no idea which one is her, or even which team I should be rooting for.
“Can you point her out?”
“Huh? Oh, right, I forgot your eyesight’s not as good. She’s the second one in from the left.”
“It’s not that. I just can’t . . . you know.”
“What?”
“Tell anyone apart. Not when they’re in dragon form.”
He frowns. “You can’t? I guess you really only saw her for a few seconds as a dragon.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”
“Well, that’s Odilia, and that’s Osric right next to her.”
“On which side?”
“Uh, he’s the one who’s not a girl?” He says that like it’s super obvious.
“I can’t tell that, either.”
“Really? Okay. He’s on her right. And Godwin’s on the other side of him. And—Oh!”
All ten dragons leap into the air as someone gives the signal to start. Odilia’s team glides into a V formation and takes the lead. The other team swoops in, clawing at them to get ahead. Odilia lashes at one with her tail, and Godwin swings his neck around and bites his attacker, nearly losing his place in the process.
We watch in silence, and I think Amelrik might even be holding his breath. It’s a close race, and both teams fight viciously for the lead. I actually lose track of which is which, but I know Odilia’s team wins because Amelrik shouts, “Yes!” when they cross the finish line. A cheer erupts from the crowd, peppered with some angry shouts from sore losers.
“This is so much better than last year,” Amelrik says. “I was still at Elder clan. Lothar was competing, but no one wanted to win against him—not after what happened the year before—and it turned out to be the most boring games I’ve ever been to. He won the whole thing, of course.”“What happened the year before?”
“I wasn’t there for that. I was, um, living in a human city at the time. But I heard all about it. It was the first time he’d competed, and when his team lost the second round, he beat the winner’s captain senseless. And no one dared raise a claw to him—not to their prince.”
“He sounds like a real prize. And just think, I almost married him.”
Amelrik makes a face. “Don’t even joke about that.”
If I had, though, maybe Lothar wouldn’t have abducted Celeste. She wouldn’t be stuck at Elder clan right now. Amelrik said she’d be okay, but I can’t help feeling a pang of guilt. After all, I’m here, with my new dragon boyfriend, and she’s all alone, probably thinking no one’s ever coming for her. But the Feast of Eventide is coming up soon, and then all of this will be over.
The thought makes my throat ache.
“I get why you hate Lothar,” I tell Amelrik, “but why does he hate you so much?” Being a jerk is one thing, but advocating so hard to get him killed when the hostage exchange went bad is another.
Amelrik takes a deep breath. “It’s complicated.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “Actually, no, it isn’t. His father was kind to me. He treated me like his own son—more than mine ever did. And that’s why Lothar hates me.”
“He’s jealous?”
“The king saw us as foster brothers, but Lothar only ever saw us as rivals.” He laughs, just a little. “It’s a bit ridiculous. I never thought anyone would be jealous of me.”
“No wonder you didn’t like it there.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“But you said you were upset, when your father sent you away?”
“I was. At first.” He stretches his arms and his shoulders again. “It turned out to be a relief, living away from home. I didn’t have to watch every little thing I said or did. I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder, worried how my mother would react to me. It was like I could finally breathe. And it was different, over there. The Elder king never acted like he was ashamed of me. Neither did the queen. They knew what I was—everyone did—even though I didn’t transform for so long. And I . . . I never told anyone what happened to me. Not until I told you. But I think they suspected.”
“You really never told anyone?” I like that he trusted me that much, but I hate to think of him suffering alone all that time.
“No one, and I was miserable. I’d essentially been banished from my home, and I missed my cousins and being in a familiar place. I missed my father, too, even though I hated him for sending me away. My wings were broken, but I didn’t want anyone to know. Not about what I had done to end up that way—”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“—or how I was just making it worse by not transforming. I blamed myself enough already, and I couldn’t handle getting that from anyone else. I hardly ate, and I hardly spoke. I wouldn’t let anyone touch me. It was probably obvious that it wasn’t just homesickness. The king tried to ask me a couple times if I was all right. We both knew I wasn’t, but I lied to him anyway and said I was fine. He couldn’t make me talk to him, but he went out of his way to make me feel welcome there. He treated me like I was part of his family, and I always sat with them during the feasts. He didn’t have to do that—no one would have missed me if I wasn’t there—but he included me anyway. Lothar hated it. His older sister was living in a foreign court, and his other sisters were quite a bit younger than him, plus he was the only male, and his father’s heir. He was used to getting special attention, and he was disgusted that his parents were reaching out to me.”
I consider that, watching as two more teams take off across the lake. “So it turned out to be a good thing your father sent you there?”
“It was harsh, and I was so unhappy at first—for quite a while, actually—but overall, it was the right thing to do. I think it saved my life.”
“Why did Odilia say that the Elder king exploited you?”
“Because she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The Elder king made use of me. Most dragons can’t stay in human form for more than a day at a time, but I can be like this indefinitely.” He gestures to himself. “To my father, it was a shameful disability, but the Elder king saw it as a strength. After I’d been living there a few years, he sent me to infiltrate—” He stops himself, his eyes darting over to mine. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
“About how you tricked paladins and got them killed?” The words come out bitter and angry, and I didn’t even know I was going to say them.
He stares at me.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I didn’t mean to say it that way.”
“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” He sighs. “I pretended to be human, and I got close to people, and they died because of it. It’s not something I would have ever done on my own, and I’m not proud of it, but I still did it. And I . . . I hated paladins. If they hadn’t hurt my mother, if they hadn’t been so cruel, I wouldn’t be like this. She wouldn’t be ashamed of me, and she would have still been herself, instead of whatever she is now. I thought they deserved it at the time, and maybe they did, but the more I think about it, the less sure I am. I risked my life pretending to be human, and if anyone had ever guessed who or what I was, they wouldn’t have stopped to ask questions—they would have just killed me. I was so afraid at first that I’d slip up, and I couldn’t wait for my assignment to be over. But then . . . It wasn’t easy, betraying the people I’d gotten close to. I hated that part.”
“I can’t picture you doing that.” I know that he did, but when I think about the boy I’ve gotten so close to—the same one who holds me in his arms at night and whose smile makes me melt inside—I can’t imagine him ever hurting anyone.
“I did what I had to. And I won’t lie—on some levels, I liked it, because for the first time in my life, I felt useful. It made my foster father proud of me, and I . . . I’d never had that before. Lothar was more jealous than ever. He liked that I’d be gone for months at a time, and I can’t say I was sorry to be away from him, either, but he hated that someone like me could be worth something, especially to his father. We fought all the time whenever I was home, about anything and everything. He tried to belittle the work I was doing, even though he knew how important it was.”“Important.” The word feels heavy on my tongue. “If you’d infiltrated the barracks where I lived, I’d be dead right now, wouldn’t I?”