Page 72 of House of Ashes

“Like what?” Kirana looked genuinely curious.

“Well, no offense to your skills as a healer, but…it looks like something scooped out of a toilet in the Wyvern’s Whore, and tastes about as pleasant.”

A flurry of expressions crossed Kirana’s face: amusement, puzzlement, and finally a strange blankness. “That’s…that’s somewhere on Mistward Isle, yes?”

“The only tavern worth visiting there.” I snorted. “You should taste the Isle shine, it’s the most rotgut garbage ever brewed. I used to think that was the worst taste in the world until this. The sawbones there used it as a disinfectant, too, so maybe it did have some positive qualities. I learned that from him, actually, when some of my scales started to rot off. Every once in a while I’d buy a pint and do a sort of…awful little shine bath. It kept the worst at bay, anyway.”

The blankness on Kirana’s face gave way to something worse, something I didn’t want to put a name to. “Sometimes I forget…”

“Forget what?” I prompted, as she trailed off into silence.

“I forget you were only sixteen when you were sent there.” She stared into the cauldron, watching it bubble and pop. “When I was sixteen…I was a child. I had no idea of how bad things could be. No concept of hardship or grief or terrible choices. And you were the same age, a child, and you…you were living on a prison isle. You know what a sawbones is, for gods’ sakes. The first time I met a sawbones, I had to puke my guts out after seeing how they worked, how messy and abrupt and…brutal it was. I couldn’t bring myself to go back. When I was sixteen, having a single blemish was considered a bad day, and here you are, talking about bathing in tavern rotgut because you had scale-rot. Any healer in Akalla can cure that in five minutes. I forget you were a child and that sort of barbarism just…became normal to you.”

My hands crept up, cupping my elbows. I lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, unable to hide my discomfort. “You adapt or you die. That’s really all there is to it.”

Gods, how I despised pity. The last thing I wanted to be in anyone’s eyes was pathetic.

“I think I should find Myst.” I had to force false cheer into my voice. “Thank you for handling the flowers.”

Kirana said something, but I’d already ducked through the door and headed for the spiral staircase. Myst would probably have followed my scent trail to my bedroom.

She had, in fact; I opened the door to the sight of my bed piled with the treasure of Varyamar, and my tiny Ascendant quivering atop it in defiance.

But she wasn’t alone; Erebos’s form filled nearly the entire room, his scales shivering with outrage as he peered down at Myst.

“Liar,” he was snarling, steam curling out of nostrils. “You were the only one who knew it was there! Lying little thief!”

“I stole nothing!” Myst cried. Her wings mantled over her back, eyes wide with innocence, but she muttered in a barely-audible aside, “Nothing with your name on it.”

Erebos reared back in disbelief. “Oh! So now I must desecrate a treasure of tremendous historical significance for you to keep your greedy little claws from it!”

“What is going on here?” I shoved the door open, bracing my hands on my hips.

Two angry Ascendants was not a situation to scoff at, but neither could I allow them to tear this eyrie apart. Since Myst and I were guests here, I would have to step in and pray that she followed my lead.

“Oh, Sera,” Erebos said, turning that enormous head my way, scarlet eyes gleaming pleadingly. “Surely you must know of what I speak: the Shield of Sorayne! Your Ascendant stole it, filthy thief that she is, a thousand years ago, and she refuses to acknowledge her crime. I cannot have thieves in my eyrie—”

Shield of Sorayne? I had never heard of such a thing. The name Sorayne rang a vague bell as some legendary hero, but beyond that, I had no idea. “What does the Shield look like, exactly?”

Erebos shot a smug look at Myst, who had crouched down on her treasure pile with an expression reminiscent of panic.

“It is a round iron shield, inlaid with dragon scrollwork, and set with a ruby in the shape of a tear. It is an exceedingly valuable piece of my collection, and Myst claims she has never laid eyes on such a thing, which is obviously a blatant lie.”

I glared at Myst, envisioning the round iron shield, inlaid with dragon scrollwork and a tear-shaped ruby, that she had been nesting in when I found her.

Oh, Nine Hells, why now?

I tugged my leathers into place, pleased that they were much more filled out now than they had been a week ago. The dresses Kirana had commissioned from Jenra would now look much more in place on me; even my muscles had gained more mass and tone.

When I’d asked for extra portions of the tonic, she’d told me that the more weight I regained, the faster I’d put on more. That much was turning out to be true. I was rapidly regaining my old body, changing almost by the hour, it seemed.

I didn’t feel a flicker of shame as I buckled on Aela’s sword. Now that I was becoming Serafina again, Princess of the House of Silvered Embers, I had the right to wear the familial treasure.

Unlike some dragons, from whom I’d extracted an iron-clad promise to return certain non-familial treasures, along with a lengthy apology for the sake of our precarious alliance.

The dispute between Myst and Erebos had fortunately distracted me from Rhylan and his lips, and when I curled into my underbed nest, I was dead asleep almost instantly, even without Kirana’s tea to help.

Myst had still been snoring when I woke, and silently prepared myself for one of the final few practice flights before the First Claim.

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