Page 4 of Kingdom of Ashes & Bone
“All demons were once Nobles, and all Nobles become demons?” I asked quietly, trying to imagine it.
“Yes. Come here.” Shava kneeled down next to the third tent, made out of a tunic that might have been blue at one point. The figure inside groaned when we approached, but didn’t move.
“You see?” Shava asked, pointing at the exposed, ashy gray skin on his legs. “Not much is known about when the curse first came, but like I said, we do know they’re trying to combat it by diluting their blood lines as much as possible. It’s met with limited success. The children still end up turning, but not until the hit their majority.”
I studied the man’s face—sickness aged him, but his face was young and free of any lines and wrinkles. How old was he, then?
“So what? They are sent down here when the change gets too much?” I asked, thinking of poor Heather and Hyacinth. And Azalea. And Leilani. And, I supposed, Freesia. No one won in this scenario.
I bent down next to the man, unable to just leave him suffering. Shava huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. I ignored her and brushed the man’s hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered open.
“The princess …” he breathed out.
A dark chuckle rumbled in my chest. “I’m no princess.”
His hand twitched and tried to rise, seeking mine. I met him halfway, entwining my fingers with his cold, brittle ones.
“But you are the dragon rider. The one who will make it all stop …”
Every fear and insecurity rose up within me, but the man looked so happy, so finally at peace with the world, that I couldn’t say anything to take it from him.
So I sucked it up, and gave a big, fake smile. “Yes. I will.”
He gave my hand one last squeeze, his smile radiant as his eyes closed. His hand went limp against mine as his expression smoothed out into sleep.
“Coming?” Shava asked pointedly.
I stood reluctantly and joined the other two. “Do all the changing Nobles come here?”
Oleria bit out a dark laugh. “The smart ones find their way down here. They figure out what’s happening and leave before the queen gets them. It’s better than the alternative.” She shot a dark look to Shava, whose brows furrowed.
“And that is?” I pointedly asked.
Shava leaned in. “I heard rumors the dragon was heard in the west mines a week ago. Would you know anything about that?” Shava asked coolly, her voice tinged with accusation.
My back stiffened in defense. “What of it?”
“You risk the entire kingdom’s destruction, that’s what,” called a familiar voice. I spun around so fast I nearly slipped on the wet stone, my heart thudding in my chest. He was so achingly familiar looking, and yet not. Confusion stopped my breath in its tracks.
ChapterTwo
Breathe.
He could have been Zion or Zariah, yet wasn’t. He was older, for one thing. Not by much, but I could tell in how he carried himself with authority and experience. His face was more serious, with a square jaw and a heavier brow that made him heavily favor the king, and his eyes weren’t silver with green—they were just like mine. He wore boots with leather pants and a tunic that looked like it had seen better days. The hem of his pants and his sleeves were a hodgepodge of materials, as if he’d quickly outgrown it and needed to keep adding to it.
It was still much finer than anything I’d ever worn in the mud quarter.
“I—”
“Zephyr. Don’t look too shocked.” He held out his hand, smiling with just enough confidence mixed with bashfulness that it was charming. Something Zion and Zariah distinctly lacked.
I closed my mouth, gritting my teeth so hard it hurt. “Who—”
“The bastard prince. Well, really that’s just my name for it. It sounds a lot better than ‘the experiment,’ don’t you think?”
My mouth dropped open while Shava gave me a little push in my back, giving Zephyr big, doe eyes. “Let’s go to your tent for a bit of privacy?”
Zephyr rolled his eyes. “Like this lot cares or will be sane enough to pass along anything they overhear.” Still, he led the way down the rows of tents, the small little homes becoming more spacious and elaborate the further into the tunnels we went. The people who sat outside fires and lounged about didn’t look sick or sad here—simply tired. They gave Zephyr little half-smiles and waves, bent over sewing or cooking. Nearly all of them were women, ranging from just older than me to elderly women with gray hair! I kept my mouth shut though, determined to save all my questions until I could sit down.
