Page 56 of Enslaved

I turn to leave. My limbs are like wooden posts, answering vaguely to the input from my brain, but only just. Staggering a little, I make my way to the door, even as the sounds of flowing water, falling sand, and my own roaring blood throb together in painful harmony inside my head. Is this it then? Have I failed? Will Seraphine’s son die? Will Danny continue to serve out his Obligation? Will Oscar . . .Oscar . . .

I whirl on heel, face back into the big chamber. “I will bargain!”

The dragon is already slinking away into the shadows but stops. Turning her heavy head to look back over one wing, she eyes me suspiciously. “What did you say?”

“I will bargain,” I repeat. “Tell me what you want in exchange for one sip of the Water of Life. If it is within my power, I will do it.”

She flashes her teeth. “There is no bargain that would induce me to break my solemn oath of protec—”

“What if I break your curse?”

Oasuroa goes very still.

“You said Illithorin’s curse passed to his kin to carry and sustain, am I right?” I persist. “What if I find whoever holds the curse and convince them to let it go? To let your torment end? Would that be worth asmallinfraction against your gods?”

She’s thinking. She’s actually thinking it through, weighing the pros and cons of such a sin. I wait in a hush of silent expectation. Part of me thinks she’ll flame, burn me alive for my insolence. But she doesn’t. And as the moments flit by, I begin to hope she won’t.

“You won’t manage it,” she says at last.

“But I might.”

“It’s impossible. All Illithorin’s children were either dead or lost by the war’s end.”

“Whatever is lost may be found.”

“You won’t manage it,” she growls again, as though trying to convince herself. As though the wild hope I’ve just offered is too sweet, too desirable, she must talk herself out of it. “You cannot hope to find the High King’s heir.”

“I’m a librarian,” I reply with a half-smile. “I’m good at this kind of thing.”

With a last flare of her crest, the dragon lifts her head and lets a small burst of flame erupt from her throat. Then: “Very well! Very well, little snackling! You break this curse and rid me of this damn-roasted sword, and I will give you what you ask: a single sip of the waters. Which you must not take for yourself, mind.”

“Done!” I cry. Striding forward, I hold out my hand. “We have a bargain, Oasuroa.”

She stares down at me, puzzled and perhaps a little disgusted. Slowly, she extends one forearm and places the tip of a giant claw in my grasp. “We have a bargain,” she agrees.

Sunlight gleams through the upper door of the tower as I climb back up the long, winding stair. My magic has worn off by now, and the stars have faded away entirely. Hopefully I won’t have any trouble summoning them back again for our return journey.

My legs are weak, my body almost fainting with exhaustion when I finally emerge from the tower and step blinking and bleary into the glare of the Soliran sky. The Prince, standing watchful close by, leaps forward with a cry of, “Darling!” and catches me just as I crumple to the ground. He crouches and holds me close, rocking me gently. “Are you all right?” he asks, brushing hair back from my forehead and peering into my face. “That damnable dragon didn’t hurt you, did she?”

I cannot speak until he’s fetched one of our waterskins and poured most of its contents down my throat. I gulp it gratefully and use the splashes to wash my dusty face and hands. All this while, the Prince never takes his hands off me, constantly touching my back, my shoulder, my head, my face, as though to reassure himself that I’m truly here. The wyvern paces, fluttering its wings and trilling nervously, whether from concern for me or in response to its creator’s tension, I cannot say.

At last, I lean back against the tower wall. Even on the shaded side, the stones are hot. I let my chin sink to my breast and release a long breath. “I didn’t get it. The Water of Life.”

“Well, no.” The Prince takes a seat beside me, legs bent and elbows resting on his knees. “I could have told you that would happen. I’m just glad you didn’t end up cooked alive. Oasuroa is not always so gracious to her visitors, as I know from personal experience.” He runs a hand down his face. Then, to my great surprise, he smiles and lets out a little huffing laugh. “I suppose that’s it then. Never would have thought this little quest of yours would take us so far. I’ll admit, I’m impressed by your persistence. But I’m glad to make an end of it at last.”

I bow my head. I’m almost too ashamed to utter my next words. They slip out in a whisper: “I made a bargain.”

The Prince’s keen ears prick. The smile vanishes from his face. “Tell me I heard that wrong.”

I close my eyes. “I made a bargain. With the dragon. I vowed to find the High King’s ancestors and beg them to release the death-curse he placed upon her.”

The Prince listens in mute dismay as I tell my tale. Neither question nor comment passes his lips. Only when I’m through, and the silence between us has lingered far longer than I like, does he curse softly and run both hands through his hair. “By this time, nothing you say or do should shock me. Yet somehow you always manage to exceed even my expectations.” He tips his face back, staring up at the distant sky. “Gods, Darling! Youbargained.With adragon.But of course you did! Because you are you, and your tenacity knows no bounds. I’ve truly never met your equal for courage or sheer stubbornness.”

Despite the heat and the sweat rolling down my spine, I shiver. “Maybe you’ve just never cared about something so deeply.” I wrap my arms around myself. “Maybe you’ve never loved someone so much you’d be willing to give up everything for their sake.”

I feel how sharply he turns to me, though I don’t have the courage to meet his gaze. We’re sitting so close, our shoulders almost touching. The heat of his body is warmer even than the sunbaked stones at my back.

“You’re wrong, Darling,” he says softly.

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