Page 68 of Malcroix Bones Academy
I stared at him, and he stared at me. His primal, that strange dragon made of bones, perched on his shoulder, watching me with black, flamelike eyes. Up close like this, I noticed its eyes looked just like the flaming crystal over his head.
I was still struggling to breathe normally.
“What do you want?” Adrenaline and charge still made my arms shake. “Did you seriously just lock me in a closet?”
“It’s a utility room, actually.”
I bit my tongue, mostly to keep from saying what I wanted to say to that. He’d scared me, and maybe he knew that or maybe he didn’t, but I wasn’t sure if making that even clearer would help me or hurt me with him. He didn’t strike me as the overly-empathetic type.
Staring at my eyes, he exhaled, and ran a hand through his bone-white hair. It glowed green under the magical flames he’d conjured, but I noted it remained perfect, despite his fingers. He probably filled it with product and magicked the hell out of it for it to look like that.
“I saved your life,” he muttered. “A little gratitude wouldn’t be amiss, mongrel.”
“Whydid you?” I asked. “Save me?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at him.
“Liar,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. He took a step closer, and I took a step back, nearly tripping over a mop bucket someone had left on that part of the floor.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said, once he loomed over me. “A request, if you prefer. Or an arrangement, maybe.”
“What kind of arrangement?” I struggled to breathe, more so as his true height over me became uncomfortably apparent. He wasn’t bulky, but he had broad shoulders, and I knew a fighter when I saw one, and I’d definitely seen a few in Southampton. He moved like a fighter. He had the easy physical confidence of one. I would have believed it of him even if I hadn’t already heard he’d sent Magicals to the hospital in primary school.
The bone dragon crouched on his shoulder. It also looked ready to pounce, its eyes gleaming like a raptor’s.
“What could you possibly want from me?” I asked.
As soon as the question left my lips, I realized it was sincere. I hadn’t really had time yet, to think about why he’d helped me the night before, but now it struck me as bizarre, given how he’d talked to me in that tea shop. I also remembered that, despite my dreams, I didn’t know him at all. Why was I so sure he hadn’t been the one to curse me?
What if the whole thing about saving me was just a ruse?
“I didn’t bloody poison you,” he said, irritated.
Exhaling, he stepped back, staring at me with those strangely cat-like eyes. He rested his hands on his hips, and I couldn’t help but notice his long, large-knuckled fingers. He still wore gold and silver rings, like he had as a kid, but they fit his hands now.
“I have a problem,” he said.
I bit my lip, forcing myself to remain silent. Interrupting him every five seconds was only prolonging this. I’d hear him out, then maybe he’d let me leave.
“I know you can see me,” he said, his voice a touch colder. “Just like I can see you.”
At that, I felt a strange sensation in my gut, something between panic and excitement.
Despite my previous resolution, I spoke without thought.
“See me how? Do you mean above your head? Or is there?”
“Diana’s bow, you don’t quit, do you?” he cut in, annoyed. “Stick to your initial thought and hear me out. Just give me a damned minute to explain.”
When my jaw hardened, he scowled.
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” he said, as if giving in. “You can see the flame over my head. The crystal. Can we just start there? You see it, right?”
That ripple of excitement returned. I understood. Finally. “Yes.”
