Page 45 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“Yes. She says the change will be involuntary at first, but eventually we will be able to control it. And we will sense when it begins, so we’ll have a few moments to prepare.”

I try not to let my personal joy overcome me. After all, our clan has much at stake, and this could jeopardize our future. “What about mating season?”

“The mating frenzy will occur,” Ashvelon says. “We can mate with the women in human form and impregnate them. Our eggs will form in their bellies. They will be smaller eggs, so the women will be able to birth them safely, and Thelise says that the incubation and hatching timeline might be different from what we’re used to… but therecanbe a new generation. The hatchlings will be shifters too, but they will stay in dragon form until they are six months old, when their first shift will occur.”

For a moment I’m silent, struck by the sheer complexity of the spell and the skill it must have taken to design it. “This is not the scenario we envisioned, and yet it may prove to be the best possible outcome.”

To my surprise, Kyreagan doesn’t contradict me. “There are advantages to both forms,” he admits. He glances past me, to where the other dragons have gathered, waiting at a respectful distance until the three of us have finished our conversation. More dragons are arriving every second, all of them seeking answers.

Fortunix descends near our trio, landing with a ponderous thud and folding his huge, scarred wings.

“You changed as well?” I ask.

Fortunix snarls. “Abomination. Ruin. Horror.”

“I’ll take that as ayes,” I reply.

Humor glints in Kyreagan’s eyes as he exchanges a glance with me. “Very well then. We should leave this enclosure and find somewhere else to speak together, all of us. Just the clan, not the women.”

“Agreed,” grunts Fortunix.

I’m curious about his form. He’s an Elder, and I wonder if his human shape was an elder as well. But he does not wish to discuss it, so I respectfully refrain from asking.

“The clan will fly with us to the Valley of Twin Teeth,” Kyreagan announces to the dragons. “The women will remain here. If you leave the enclosure, you do so at your own risk. Some of you encountered the dangers of Ouroskelle yesterday, when you ran from us. If you flee today, we will neither seek nor save you.”

He’s being too harsh with them, so I step forward. “Please allow us this time to confer as a clan about the marvelous changes that have occurred. I promise we will provide you with all the information we have, after we have spoken together as dragons.” My gaze finds Jessiva, standing in a cluster of women. “Until then, know that we value each one of you and hold you in the highest esteem as our beautiful saviors.”

I dip my head respectfully to the women, and several of them smile and blush.

“Always the charmer,” Kyreagan mutters as we take off, rising into the air with our fellow dragons. He swerves closer to me, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear, as if he doesn’t want Fortunix or Ashvelon to catch the words. “You excel at finding the good in difficult situations and bringing hope to those who despair. I crave your wisdom today. If you see the good in this, bring it forth. Share it with the clan. Keep them hopeful, make them laugh. You are far better at that than I am.”

His words send a flood of warmth through my bones. This is the Kyreagan I know, the one who sees himself and others clearly. He is regaining some of his steadiness, his mental balance. I wonder if the Princess has anything to do with his progression toward healing. I know that the night I spent with Jessiva was the best and most restorative time of my entire life.

At the Valley of Twin Teeth, Kyreagan recounts his conversation with the sorceress yet again. One of the dragons, Saevel, demands Thelise’s death, but Kyreagan declares her protected under clan law as Ashvelon’s life-mate. I don’t know if my brother planned that bond ahead of time or thought of it in the heat of the moment, but mating Ashvelon and Thelise was the wisest thing he has done in a while.

Sensing the discontent brewing among the dragons now that their hope of vengeance is gone, I step forward, my claws grating against the rock spur on which I stand with Kyreagan, Ashvelon, and Fortunix. “My brothers, let us calm ourselves and give each other time to adjust to this new reality. We should talk together, share our experiences in our human bodies, and think of the benefits that might accompany this shift in form.”

“Benefits?” growls one of the dragons.

“Yes, benefits. We can care for livestock better. Plant gardens and fields. Forge armor, craft machinery, create books—”

“You mean change our culture?” Fortunix pushes his way between me and Kyreagan. “Become more like the humans we hate, the humans who perpetrated this act of devastation upon us? Forgive me, young Prince, but I find that intolerable. Who here recalls the days of the dragon hunters? Precious few of us, because so many died during that dark time. Then we endured the plague. Next, the war and the murder of our females. And now we are supposed to ponder thebenefitsof assuming frail human flesh for several hours each day?”

The other dragons rumble discontentedly, and Fortunix continues. “I cannot view this event as anything but what it is—an assault on the very nature of dragonkind. An affront to the Bone-Builder. If we accept this, we are pissing on the skulls of the ancestors—on your own father, Varex. The Bone-King, Arzhaling himself. What would he say to this?”

Anger churns in my belly, and I growl. “Keep my father’s name out of your mouth. You will refer to him by his title, or not at all.”

Fortunix whirls on me, jaws snapping. “You would teachmethe rules of honorifics, hatchling?”

“Enough!” bellows Kyreagan, and both Fortunix and I recoil a step.

Kyreagan gives me a steady look and a slight nod, as if to confirm his support. Then he turns to the clan. “As my brother wisely said, we need time to consider all aspects of this change. It’s difficult for everyone, but squabbling is foolish and futile. We need each other more than ever.”

The clan quiets at his rebuke, but they will not stay silent for long, nor will Fortunix. If there was ever a right time for a moment of levity and commiseration, this is it.

I clear my throat. “Was anyone else’s human cock frighteningly small?”

Immediately the dragons’ voices rise, exclaiming over the size and shape of their human genitals. I jump down from the rock spur on which I’ve been sitting and join them on their level to discuss it. I’m dimly aware of Fortunix leaving in an angry rush, and Kyreagan following him.

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