Page 7 of To Claim a King

But the Dragon Princess could take care of herself, so he chased away his premature worry, focusing on the rest of his Kingdom.

* * *

Xandrie openedher eyes and jumped to her feet, disoriented and out of place. Where in Eartia’s name was she? How had she ended up there? Claws was lying at her feet, which settled her frazzled mind some. She blinked, forcing herself to concentrate on the unfamiliar surroundings. There was moss beneath her and stalactites above, so, she deduced, she was in a cave. The fire cackling nearby puzzled her. It certainly hadn’t made itself and she had no memory of making it.

Her eyes caught the shape of a figure – by the cast of her shoulders and the slightness of her build, a woman most likely – on the other side of the fire. At least, Xandrie hoped it was a woman; she’d heard what Fae did to random humans stumbling into their sacred spaces and didn’t much fancy ending up a nematode or creeping vine or whatever other transmogrification punishment an angry Fae might dream into being. She didn’t want to startle whoever shared the cave and fire – be she Fae or female – so she coughed, gently.

The figure the other side of the fire sprang to her feet and gracefully walked to Xandrie’s side. “You’re awake.” Her voice was soft and slow - she spoke the common tongue with an accent Xandrie just couldn’t place. Her looks were just as foreign - golden skin, bright green eyes, a cascade of shining, brown curls coiling about her shoulders. The stranger was a remarkable beauty - more so than her fair sister, and perhaps just as much as the Elves she’d met in the woods. “I’m Demelza.”

The woman held out her hand; as Xandrie reached to shake it, she felt a burning on the tender skin between her thumb and forefinger. She looked at it, growing even more confused. There was no mistaking it, a rune blazed, but didn’t consume her flesh. She’d only glanced at Talia’s ancient books on runecraft, but she recognized the mark asAnsuz, the messenger rune that symbolized new beginnings.

Okay, so maybe she’d just bashed herselfreally hardon the head when she fell…

The memories rushed back. The animals panicking and rushing out of the woods - Claws falling. She had saved the tiger and then, gone over the edge of the cliff. She’d been plummeting to her death, when a red dragon…

Her adrenaline spiked. She scoured the cave, searching for her bow and quiver. “There’s a dragon on the loose.”

Demelza didn’t move. She didn’t frown. It was as if she hadn’t heard.

“I’m serious,” said Xandrie. She understood why the woman would doubt her - Dragons didn’t just go strolling about in Northern Var. According to her schooling, she knew there hadn’t been any fire-breathers in these parts for thousands of years.

Yet, she knew what she saw - she remembered it too clearly for it to have been a product of her imagination. “I swear, I saw a red dragon, in flight. We need to warn the village. Dragons mean death, destruction…I need to protect Talia.”

Demelza moved her hair from her shoulders and smirked, before it began. She looked uncomfortable at first, and a blood-curdling sound - bones breaking, flesh morphing - made Xandrie cringe. But then, before her astonished eyes the woman had completed her change. In front of her, filling the humongous cave, there was an actual, real live dragon.

Xandrie stood, slack-jawed, the adrenaline ebbing and flowing through her in waves. Her bow fell to her side. Demelza was magnificent; a vision in red. Crazy as it was – in light of what she’d always thought, of what she’d said not a minute before – Xandrie felt no fear, only awe. “It was you.” Then, she realized the only thing that explained why she was still breathing. “You caught me.”

The dragon had saved her life, which went against everything she’d ever heard about their race.

Demelza shifted back to her glorious human form, laughing. “Getting you back here was excitement enough for one day, and besides, I’ve had a long flight. I don’t have the energy to consume an entire village.”

Xandrie plunked herself back down by the fire. The dragon-woman who called herself Demelza had such a quiet, peaceful energy. “Sorry, people say…well…dragons don’t usually appear in these parts.”

She felt silly for insulting the woman who’d saved her and sillier still for taking rumors for truth. She didn’t want to be rude, but it was true; there’d been no dragon sightings around Malec and she just didn’t know any better. Sometimes, cruelty was nothing more than ignorance.

Demelza sighed. “We don’t come to the Northern Var. Nothing much here.” Well, that was true enough. “I had to get away for a while, though.”

Xandrie asked why, her curiosity just as acute as it had been the previous day with the two mysterious elves.

“A good woman died on my watch; another one. She birthed her dragonling and paid for it with her life. It happens a lot, and well, flying tends to be distracting.”

“I’m sorry. It really sucks,” said Xandrie. The words felt empty, but there was nothing else to say.

Demelza shrugged. “Our women have been dying in childbirth for centuries. Over half our dragons grow up without a mother these days.”

“Can’t you fix it?” It felt like such a stupid thing to say, so she added, “I thought dragons had powerful magic at their disposal.”

“We have our own elemental magic, yes.” Demelza nodded at the fire, sending plumes of blue sparks up into the cave. A wave of her hand, and it went back to its gentle humming.

It had seemed completely effortless on her part - natural. Yet Xandrie was well placed to know that this was beyond Talia’s skills. Fire was untamed and unyielding; mages made used of it, but controlling it? She’d never seen anyone foolish enough to try.

But then again, she hadn’t met a dragon before.

“Pretty impressive.”

Demelza shrugged. “Perhaps. But you can’t burn your way to a safer birth.”

Xandrie was reminded of the conversation she’d had with the Elves, and wondered if Aether could have helped, but it was a pointless thought. The Aether-born prince was long gone now, and besides, Xandrie had sworn she wouldn’t talk of their meeting.

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