Page 48 of Dragons' Mate
The males exchange glances, clearly reluctant to let me out of their sight. Cyril relents finally, his shoulders heaving with a long exhale. “We'll be waiting for you."
“Great.” I say as I back away from them and toward that soul-pulling music.
CHAPTER23
Kit
The music pulls me. A familiar song from a time I don’t remember. As if excited by my acknowledgement of it, the music gets more intense the closer I get to the tapestry covered side exit that leads toward the privy. The sound is not just in my ears, but in my skin. On the inside of my forearm.
I watch the faces around me, trying to see if anybody else hears the sound. They don’t seem to. Or are too busy rutting to notice. Not even the priests who are congregated on the dais, their hoods over their heads as always. It makes me wonder what their hair is like. Maybe they are bald under all that fabric. I hope the assholes are bald and can’t grow their hair no matter how badly they wish to.
The music seems to beckon me and me alone. Which is a really good reason to not go investigating, even though I desperately need to do something alone right now. Still, I should swallow what’s left of my shredded pride and go back.
I start to.
A pain sharp enough to take my breath lances through my forearm. The music increases. There is a desperation to it now, a fear and plea that I can’t refuse. I duck through the hanging tapestry into a decorated foyer, and am surprised when the next tapestry I bump into likewise gives way. Stepping through it, I find myself in a narrow stone corridor lit by sparse torches. From here I see the spot from which I entered. It’s so narrow that my having bumped the tapestry at that particular point is no way a coincidence.
The music pulls me along, the phantomly familiar tune in my head coalescing into words.
In the heart of the ancient skies,
Where stars shimmer and fire flies,
Lay a dragon, wings spread wide,
Whispering secrets of the tide.
Close your eyes, little ember's glow,
Let the winds of dreams softly blow,
To realms beyond, where dragons fly,
Sailing the canvas of the sky.
A lullaby. I couldn't have heard it before, and yet I know the next verse.
Breathe in deep, the night's embrace,
Feel the stars kiss your fiery face,
For in dreams, all dragons are free,
To soar, to dance, to simply be.
I realize I’m singing along with the strange siren as I follow its call down the corridor, which spills into a larger, wider one before dividing and pulling off again, taking me to the bowels of the citadel. I hurry, knowing that I can’t be gone long. The music guides me through several more turns before depositing me by a door.
The very air around me vibrates and the lullaby starts from the beginning. Knowing that what I’m about to do falls under bad life choices, I push against the door handle.
It’s locked.
Of course it’s locked. Why wouldn’t it be? The song stops and I realize how stupid this whole thing is. I give the door one final tug just to make sure and—
It opens.
My heart jumps. The music restarts, coming from the other side of the door. My forearm burns. I can’t help myself, or maybe I can and I’m just choosing not to. I go inside.
Warm moist air surrounds me as I enter the room, a stark contrast to the cool corridor I'd just left. The space unfolds as a circular chamber, its walls painted with a soft iridescent sheen, reflecting colors that dance like the northern lights. There is an earthy scent of moist soil and flowers, which is probably coming from the vats of greenery set up all around the room’s periphery. The flowering plants stretch tall toward the sunbeams filtering in from skylights overhead. Is this where the flowers for the fertility elixir grow? No. Of course not. That would make no sense.
