That seems to not only anger her ... but hurt her. Why?
She’s silent for a moment, and I have the urge to ask her, to make it better, to know her. But I don’t say a word, and she finally says, “I know where the sword is.”
Of course. I didn’t even ask what the thief told her, because in the moment, I was so distracted by my desire. Part of me knows that on some level, I was also trying to buy time, find another way to end the dreks. Now, a month later, there’s nothing—only the fate that seems increasingly inevitable. And the betrayal that might kill us both.
The sword should have been my first question, my main concern. “Where?”
“The Caves of Irida.”
Interesting. “I know it.”
She peers up at me, surprised, as if she was expecting me to sound happier.
If anything, this development fills me with dread.
It is not lost on me that I should not care so much about a few shards of glass in her palms while simultaneously marching her toward her death.
But I do. I do care.
I get every single shard of glass, then lean down, my mouth at her ear. “This is going to hurt,” I whisper, before I pour alcohol on her injuries.
I anticipate her scream, and press my hand over her lips, smothering it just in time. She writhes against me, squirming at the pain, and I go still. My every nerve flickers on. I clear my throat and pin her hip down with one hand, holding her still.
“If you can help it,” I force out, “please stop that.”
She freezes.
She can feel me.
I can feel her, on every aching inch of me.
I finish my task quickly, then lift her off my lap, desperate to be both on top of her and far away from her.
“Tomorrow,” she says.
That’s when we’ll meet next, to go to the thief’s cave, and finally find the sword.
“There’s one problem,” she continues.
I can think of several, but I just say, “Problem?”
She nods. “There’s a monster, guarding the cave.”
My eyes narrow. “What kind of monster?”
ARROWS
Of course, it’s a fucking dragon.
“It’s asleep,” Isla says. I feel her fear warring with fascination. She’s not sure if she should be afraid.
She should beveryafraid.
Dragons are cruel creatures that rely heavily on their training. If the thief trained this one to be ruthless, then it will kill us both in a single scalding breath.
She’s right though. For now, it’s asleep.
Isla takes a step toward it, and I have the urge to haul her back, to take her away from this place.
