Dragonlands(185)

When she was only thirteen, he’d saved her from the claws of a relentless kilrothgi in the fog and healed her wounds; she had immediately trusted him. The foolish act of a child, perhaps.

What exactly happened in those moments, she could never remember. The black-scaled dragon gazed into her eyes, his amber irises swirling like a smoldering fire, and warmth circulated through her body.

Sophia wasn’t sure what she promised him. She didn’t know what they did in the time she spent with him. Some days she awoke in her bed, back in her simple cottage in Hutton’s Bridge. Other days she wandered through the fog in a daze, always returning safely.

After years of frustration and no answers, she instituted a yearly ritual. Three villagers were sent into the fog, tasked with finding a way out and then coming back to save the rest of them.

No one returned.

Still, Sophia knew there was a way out. She couldn’t tell them, though. They wouldn’t trust her if they knew she traveled the fog often—even if she didn’t understand how or why it happened.

Until one day when the dragon promised her something. He would give her a gift.

The dragon, Mestifito, slithered along the cave floor. His onyx scales rattled the rocks underneath his belly. Claws, sharpened to daggers, trailed along the curves of Sophia’s body. She stood still, fearful the slightest movement would result in an irreparable gash. He overpowered her, physically and emotionally.

But she did not fight him. She was too curious, too enamored with the beast who called her from her sleep, drew her safely into the fog, and always returned her to her warm bed in Hutton’s Bridge.

“What is the gift you offer me?” she asked him. Her eyes trailed over his body, so long she couldn’t even see his tail hiding in the dark recesses of the cave.

Mestifito chuckled, his laugh echoing in the cave. “I expect something in return.”

Despite her apprehension, Sophia planted her fists on her hips. “Then it isn’t a gift. It is an exchange of goods.”

“You are a clever girl.”

Sophia’s face reddened. She had been a girl three years ago when the fog fell. Now she was all woman. In her body, hear heart, and her soul. If her parents had still been around, they would have already had her moved out of their cottage and married. “I am no girl.”

“I offer you the ability to remember all. To see all. To know all.” His form undulated until he was wrapped around her body.

She had nowhere to go. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere. Her thoughts spun in her mind, confused and erratic.

“And from me? What do you want from me?” She hadn’t forgotten his stipulation.

“I want you. For eternity.” Slithering between his jagged teeth, his tongue shot out of his mouth and hovered only inches from Sophia’s face.

“And just how could I promise that? I am made of flesh and blood. I will die, never to return.”

“That is where you are wrong. There are ways around the laws of nature.” Mestifito tightened his ring around her, his skin only a breath from hers. “If you agree, I can show you wonders you will not find elsewhere. No one can give you what I can.”

Sophia thought of her village, trapped in the fog for three years now. No end in sight. “Can you help my village?”

Mestifito shook his head. “I cannot. That is a magic different from mine. I would die trying, and death isn’t something I seek. I seek life.” His forked tongue dragged across her cheek.

“If you can’t help my people, then I can’t agree to your proposal.” She choked back a sob. She wanted nothing more than to say yes to anything he asked of her. Every iota of her soul fought against her mind.

“I would if I could, my dear, dear Sophia. Even a magic like mine cannot compete against what has been done to Hutton’s Bridge.”

“How old are you?” she asked Mestifito. He didn’t seem old. Then again, he was her first dragon. She didn’t know how to determine the age of one.

“Not much older than you. Twenty.” He huffed.

Sophia winced, sure his dragon breath would be rank, but she was surprised by the scent of cinnamon and honey. She drew in a deep breath, his aroma creeping into her essence, becoming as much a part of her as her own blood.

“Why me?”

“You are not like the others in the Charred Barrens. And soon we are going to dissolve into myth.”

“I—I don’t understand,” Sophia said. A trembling hand reached up to his muzzle. She’d expected his scales to be rough. Instead they were soft like feathers.

“You will someday.”

“Mestifito…”

“Yes?”

“You may have me. All of me. Forever.” She trembled, not fully understanding what she was agreeing to, but believing it was the best choice, the only choice, she could make.