All my blood turns to ice. I feel like my body’s made of stone, even though I’m shaking all over.
The dragon guarding Celeste looks up to watch the slaughter, forgetting about me for the moment.
But I don’t care. All I can think about is that Amelrik’s dead. I couldn’t save Celeste, and now he’s gone, and nothing will ever be okay again. Tears slip down my cheeks, and a horrible ache rips through my chest.Lothar’s shouting orders, and the rest of the purple dragons suddenly can’t leave fast enough. They grab the cage with Celeste and make their retreat. I guess Lothar got what he came for, and now he’s getting out of here, fleeing the tension that’s built up in the room, because it’s obvious that the dragons from Hawthorne clan are not happy with him.
I still feel heavy and numb, but I run to the other side of the room, because I have to see him. No matter how horrible it is. There’s a crowd circled around what must be Amelrik’s body. I rush past them, squeezing through the gaps and scuffing my bare arms against their scales.
There’s blood on the ground. That’s the first thing I notice. But it’s just blood. There’s no one lying on the floor, dead. Amelrik’s father’s there, still in dragon form, despite the gashes running across his chest, dripping blood all over. He looks really pissed off, like he’s two seconds away from killing someone. Several other dragons are fussing over him, but he waves them aside.
And then I see Amelrik. He sees me, too, like he’s been scanning the crowd for me. The blood on the ground isn’t his. He’s not dead.
Fresh tears fill my eyes as relief floods my body. He’s not dead.
“Amelrik!” I hurry over to him.
One of the dragons tending the king notices me and lashes a tail in front of me to block my path. It snarls something in Vairlin.
“It’s fine,” Amelrik tells them. “Let her through.”
The dragon reluctantly moves its tail, turning its focus back to the king.
I rush forward, throwing my arms around Amelrik. I squeeze him tight, enjoying his breath on my cheek and the feel of his body crushed against mine—two things I thought I’d lost forever. “You’re alive.”
“Of course I’m alive.” He hugs me back, somewhat stiffly, and jerks his head toward his father.
But I’m too happy to pretend I don’t care. Besides, didn’t he tell everyone that I’m in love with him? I think that means I can hug him all I want. “I couldn’t see what was happening. I thought he killed you.”
“He was going to,” Amelrik says, leading me through the crowd and back out to the hallway, where we can talk. “He would have, if my father hadn’t defended me.”
“That’s why he left?”
“He came here to cause trouble, not to attack a king.”
“He still has Celeste. I couldn’t save her in time.” Not that he couldn’t have guessed that, because it’s not like I have Celeste with me or anything.
He nods, taking that in. “We’ll get her back.”
“But . . . I know I have to save Celeste, but I really don’t want you to get killed in the process. And it seems to me that you going to Elder clan is just about the worst idea ever.” It probably was to begin with, but even more so after what just happened.
“Yeah, it is. But I don’t really have a choice.”
“Yes, you do. Just because you made me a promise doesn’t mean you have to kill yourself to keep it! I’ll go. I’ll figure something out. I’ll—”
“No. I won’t let you do that—not alone. And, anyway, it’s more than that. The reason I don’t have a choice. Lothar gave my father an ultimatum. He’s got exactly one day to turn me in to Elder clan.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else Lothar’s coming back here, only next time he’s bringing an army.”
36
AT LEAST ONCE
It’s our last night together, and I’m lying here in Amelrik’s bed, thinking about him instead of actually, like, kissing him. Or touching him. Or even just talking to him.
But I don’t want this to end, and all I can think about is how that’s exactly what’s happening. Huddling together in the dark, trying to cling to the last few moments we have together, would only emphasize that. It would just make me think about how final this is, and then I’d probably end up crying, and that’s not how I want to spend my last night with him. So instead I’m over on my side, an arm’s length away at least, sleeping as if I’m already alone.
Trying to sleep, that is. Well, halfheartedly trying to sleep, since all I can really do is think. My thoughts keep racing, showing no signs of slowing down.
Tomorrow, we’re going to rescue Celeste. My sister’s finally going to be free, and everyone at the barracks is going to feel pretty stupid when they find out that I was right.
And all that’s assuming we actually succeed at our mission and don’t end up dying horribly. Either way, I’m never going to see Amelrik again, and this is it. Our last night together, and I’m wasting it, because I can’t handle this just being . . . over.
Not that he’s exactly throwing himself at me, either. I miss the weight of his arm around me and the closeness of him pressed against my back. We’ve spent the last few nights falling asleep curled up like that, as if we had all the time in the world and this was never going to end, and now we’re acting like it already has.
Unless he’s asleep, but I don’t think he is. I don’t know how he could be. If he is asleep already, somehow, then I’m kind of pissed at him for caring so little that he could just drift off like everything’s fine. That he could just drift off, alone, over on his side of the bed, as if I’m not even here. Is this what it’s going to be like for him when I’m gone? Conking out instantly, while back home I’ll be tossing and turning, missing him too hard to even sleep?
His hand finds mine in the dark and squeezes.
Okay, so maybe he’s awake after all. Maybe this isn’t so easy for him. “Amelrik?” I whisper, squeezing back. I don’t know why I’m whispering, except that it makes it easier to pretend this isn’t happening.
“My father forbid me to go to Elder clan,” he says. His voice is quiet, just like mine. “He said we’ve never submitted to them before, and we’re not starting now. And . . . he said there’s no way in hell he’s losing me again. He said that. My father.”
I swallow. That’s what he’s been thinking about. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am. “You should listen to him.”
He squeezes my hand again. “I’m not letting you go alone.”“But—”
“I’m not.”
Maybe I should argue with him more, but I know he means it, and I also know that I still need his help. I don’t even know where Elder clan is, for one thing, and even if I’m worried about him, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. “Don’t do anything stupid,” I tell him. “Besides coming with me, I mean.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Amelrik?”
“Let’s not talk about tomorrow.”
“You’re the one that brought it up.”
“I know, but . . .” He shifts onto his side, so he’s facing me. “I’m going to miss you so much, it’s going to tear me apart.”
His words bring a sudden ache to my throat, and I wonder if he can hear how close I am to crying. “I . . . I wish this wasn’t happening.”
“I love you.”
And now I am crying. “You don’t have to say that. Just because I thought you were going to say it earlier . . . You don’t have to.”
“I was going to say it earlier. Not when you first thought, but before Lothar attacked. And I mean it. I love you, Virginia. I don’t know who I was or how I got by before I met you. I really don’t. And I don’t know how I’m going to face tomorrow, knowing that something could happen to you, and that even if it doesn’t, I’m—” He chokes up. “No matter what happens, I’m never going to see you again.”
I scoot closer, turning on my side, and put my arms around him. The ache in my throat spreads to my chest.
“But even if I don’t want to think about tomorrow,” he says, “I can’t pretend I don’t know this is our last night together, and I just had to say it. I can’t stand the thought of you leaving, but even more than that, I couldn’t stand it if you left and didn’t know. That I felt that way. About you.”
“I love you, Amelrik.” I’m not supposed to love a dragon—especially this dragon—but I do.
He lets out a deep breath, like he wasn’t certain I was going to say it back to him. As if there was ever any chance that I wasn’t.
“You saved my life,” I tell him.
“A couple times. Not that I’m counting.”
“I mean besides that. I might not have been the one in the dungeon, but I was trapped. I was alone, and so unhappy. And maybe those aren’t things that kill you—not right away, not for a long time—but they were eating away at me. Everyone kept telling me who I was, and I knew they were wrong, but . . . You’re the only person who’s ever seen me for who I am. Who let me be who I am. And that’s everything.”