Page 72 of Waves
The dragon hurtling toward us made no attempt to swerve or hide his intentions. No, his marquise-cut eyes glittered like yellow jewels as his gaze locked onto me in my ridiculouscarriage. This trifling box, which posed no threat to his claws and teeth.
He was coming right for me.
Something about this attack felt different than those prior. Earlier disasters had either been public or had a surprise factor. A shock value. But this dragon swam at me from a distance rather than stealthily approaching and announcing his presence by snapping my coach in his massive jaws.
Letting me stare at death as it plunged toward me was a deliberate challenge.
Raj was showing his hand. Revealing his powers and reveling in my own lacking magic. Thumbing his nose at me.
This attack felt direct. Final.
Why now though?
Why a dragon?
Why not kill me with the whirlpool and let me wash away? Why not let my death be some tragic accident?
My heart hardened as I realized this was crueler. More terrifying. Thus—more fitting.
I’d studied the Fire Wars along with every other monarch’s child growing up. The savagery of the dragons had been drilled into every one of us. On land, towns had gone to flame, been turned to ash by soldiers struck with the madness of blood lust who ordered their dragons to spit fire.
But a direct dragon attack was rare.
And supposedly far worse.
Dragons were a brutal species, second only to humans.
And they liked to eat live prey over several days, shredding them bit by bit.
It had turned my bones to jam when I’d first been snatched by a dragon back in Evaness. The beast had flown me back to a cavern and I’d nearly passed out from the panic until I’d seen other people emerge from the cave and realized that that dragonwas under someone else’s control. That I wasn’t necessarily going to be eaten alive.
My eyes scanned the ocean, searching for a sign that this dragon too had a master. But all I saw was Sahar shoving Keelan behind the nearest supply cart. Ugo and Paavo surging forward near me. I didn’t see a puppet master.
Perhaps this beast had no strings.
If it was Raj…he was beholden to no one.
If he was the dragon or if he controlled this beast, then he wouldn't make the mistakes he’d made before. I would not be held captive.
“Many a soldier turned their sword upon themselves rather than become a dragon’s meal.” I still remembered an old tutor with two missing teeth and a nasty scar along his upper lip lecturing us in a small tower room. Tucked away between stone walls of the castle of Evaness, safe and sound, I’d loved to listen to those lectures as I’d clutched my velvet skirts and shivered at all the scary picture my imagination painted.
Now…I vaguely wondered if I’d become one of those stories.
If someday, some little girl would clutch her dress and shriek when she heard of me.
Perhaps.
But if she did…I wanted her to know that I’d died fighting.
That I’d faced the end head on, with my head held high.
And that was why I squeezed Mateo’s palm once before pulling away from him and backing toward the door.
“What should we—” He didn’t get to finish the question before I was out of the carriage, slamming the door on him and swimming upward. With my damaged wing, my swimming was awkward, and I listed to one side until I stroked harder with my hands and used my legs to kick, straining just to rise ten feet, feeling pathetic and worn by the time I had.
As soon as I cleared the carriage, our tiny traveling party dotted my vision. They floated, scattered about, panic making them jellyfish of them.
“Hide!” I yelled, hoping to spur them to action. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Gita startling and then darting backward. I assume Humberto followed her.
