That might be true. But Emeline couldn’t abandon him.
Hoisting the satchel over her shoulder, she came to Hawthorne’s side. Gripping the torch tight in her hand, she thrust the flame into the paw keeping him pinned, searing the dragon’s scaly flesh.
Claw hissed and withdrew, limping backwards.
“Horrible creature!”
Hawthorne drew in a staggered breath as Emeline fell to her knees beside him. He sat up, wincing, while she held the torch aloft, illuminating the dragon in the shadows.
Claw’s murky eyes narrowed in the light of her flame. Getting to his feet, Hawthorne drew the blade at his back. Its steel edge burned red in the light of the torch.
“You will let us pass.”
“And if I don’t?”
Hawthorne gritted his teeth, betraying the pain he was in. “Then you and I will slay each other here, and Emeline will leave with the music.”
Claw hissed, glancing between them, as if thinking through his options. Finally, the dragon drew back.
“Go, then. You will not live long, Tithe Collector. I’ve seen it: my mistress’s curse will swallow the King’s City and everything in it.”
The words chilled Emeline.
Hawthorne didn’t sheathe his sword. Just held out his hand for Emeline to take. As her cool fingers slid through his warm ones, Hawthorne kept himself between her and the dragon while Claw watched and waited.
Halfway to the cave entrance, that growled voice no longer echoed on the rock walls but glided through Emeline’s mind. Like water over stone.
And you, singer.
She paused at the entrance, glancing behind her before stepping into the sunlight. A low growl rumbled through the cavern, and from the darkness, the dragon hissed into her mind:
Beware of this one. He betrays you in the end!
FOURTEEN
THEY RODE HARD THROUGHthe woods, arriving back in the King’s City just before sundown. The gate slammed closed behind them, ringing like a tune. Outside the king’s stables, Lament came to a halt. She shook her black mane and stomped the ground, sparks flaring beneath her hooves, as if calling for attention.
Hawthorne dismounted, his movements heavy and sluggish.
Emeline sat frozen in the saddle, clutching the leather satchel to her chest, tacky with dried saliva. Claw’s last words swirled around her mind, like water in a draining sink.
He betrays you in the end!
What did it mean?
Claw knew Hawthorne was searching his lair, just like he knew Lament stood waiting at the top of the cliff. So why did Hawthorne tell her that Claw got confused?
Claw can see things. The future, the present, and the past. He just can’t tell you which one is which.
Unless Hawthorne lied.
It wouldn’t be the first time, and it would make a kind of sense. If Hawthorne intended to betray Emeline, he wouldn’t want her listening to an all-seeing dragon who might spill all his plans.
You mustn’t listen to a word he says,he’d told her before they climbed down to the aerie.
If Hawthorne had malicious intent, if he knew Claw could see the future and might tell that future to Emeline, wasn’t that exactly what he’d say?
For a fraction of a second, Emeline wanted to dig her heels into Lament and gallop back to Edgewood. She wanted torun.Except Hawthorne still gripped the reins and Lament was spent. Sweat glistened across her back and foam glazed her lips.
