Page 18 of A Scar in the Bone
I often thought of my dragon mother. If she had known of Vetr, would she have left me with him instead of dropping me in the bailey of the palace? How different my life would be.
I’d thought of her more and more since I’d come here, since I’d learned the truth of the past and what my mother must have been up against when I was born.
She was no longer a wispy shadow. Yes, nameless still, but shadow no more. I felt like I knew her now. She’d spared me. She could have killed me. Instead, she’d gone against the others, so ready to kill humans, and flown south, leaving me in the City. She must have thought it was my best chance at a life.
I wondered if she was out there still. A few of the Old Ones remained, I’d been told. Farther north. Deeper into the Crags, where the air was thin, almost nonexistent. In tunnels that broke off and dropped away, plummeting to the very bowels of the earth, far below, where no human could ever venture. Clearly the Old Ones wanted that. They wanted nothing to do with humankind … or even us, this new generation of dragon. They would finish out their lives untouched by this world.
Kerstin’s words echoed through me. There’s nowhere to go.
She wasn’t wrong. It was that very thing that kept me here, trapped in my strange, changeable skin with my dragon swimming beneath it. Where else could I go? I’d hoped this place would become more than simply a sanctuary of necessity. I’d thought one day, once I’d learned everything there was to know about my dragon, after I’d learned how to fit in within the pride, it would feel like home.
Kerstin went on. “We belong in the Crags.” Her words dropped softly, as though even she was not so certain of that. She paused and then collected herself enough to say with more conviction, “This is our home.”
I swallowed. I wished that were true, but could I ever belonghere when I was not like them? Not a dragon. Not a human. Not anything.
At last, the meal ended, and I was permitted to return to my den and undress for bed. I brushed out my hair vigorously, almost viciously, with a jewel-handled brush any royal princess would envy, but I possessed it. It was just an ordinary thing. A hairbrush laden with jewels, just like any other hairbrush here.
I braided my fiery locks loosely so they wouldn’t tangle too much in my sleep, and then I studied my reflection, my face, which looked leaner somehow, cheeks hollowed … my youth spent, my innocence lost.
I wasn’t a girl anymore. I appeared every bit a widow with my tired eyes that belonged to someone much older than my twentytwo years. That gave me pause. I was twenty-two now. My birthday had come and gone months ago without remark. No one knew and I saw no point in alerting them. The day passed as any other.
All my earlier birthdays were observed with cake and presents. My sisters loved any reason to celebrate. They would have celebrated their birthdays by now, too. I wondered if Feena or Sybilia were betrothed and to whom. Perhaps one of them had even married, formed a great alliance for Penterra. Alise was still too young, but I knew better than to assume the king and queen would not break custom and wait until she turned eighteen if it benefitted them. A lot could change in a short time. I glanced down at the back of my hand draped over the jewel-studded handle of my hairbrush. I knew that firsthand.
With a sigh, I ended my self-examination and pushed myself up onto my feet.
My nights were restless. As comfortable as my bed was with its luxurious furs, I could never get comfortable enough. It was almost as though I no longer knew how to sleep alone.
The lack of Fell beside me was an aching emptiness. We’d only slept side by side for a couple months, but I still felt his absence, especially alone in the dark.
I slid beneath the furs and curled up on my side, a hand tucked beneath my cheek. The slashing lines on my palm buzzed hotly. The sensation went beyond the skin, deep beyond flesh and veins and tissue, into the bone.
Closing my eyes, I pretended it was his hand cupping my face.
Then, without thought, without meaning to, I exhaled and whispered … putting his name out there, casting it into the ether: “Fell.”
Out of nowhere, a wind rushed through my den, sweeping over me, stirring tendrils of my hair. Goose bumps broke out over my skin.
It almost felt like an answer.
5
TAMSYN
AT BREAKFAST AKSEL ANNOUNCED THAT WE WERE TOgather in the arena.
The skeppar’s tawny gaze swept over the pride as though searching for disobedience. Not that he would find any evidence of it. Everyone was well trained and unfailingly loyal, even if a few of the youngest dragons in the pride showed flashes of willfulness.
Such willfulness did not run deep. No one hesitated at such announcements. Not even me. I fell into place beside Kerstin as we filed into the arena.
Vetr had not been present at breakfast—another repast that went far beyond anything ever experienced in Penterra. My sisters and I had usually fed upon honeyed porridge in the salon attached to the schoolroom. Never had we stuffed ourselves on so many confections and too many rashers of bacon to count, but this was just another morning in the pride.
Sometimes Vetr missed the morning meal—he and those assigned to lookout duty. Obligations took him elsewhere. And yet he was in the arena when we all paraded in and took our seats on the stone benches that formed a semicircle around the ring. Once everyone was settled, our gazes fixed on him.
Aksel nodded at him, indicating that everyone was present who should be.
“I’ve decided a rekon to the south before winter sets in is in our interest,” Vetr began.
This announcement sent a ripple through the pride. I glancedaround, noting the faces bright with anticipation. Since my arrival, there had been two excursions south into Penterra and one north into Veturland. Rekons, they called them. The purpose was to gather intel on the population of humans surrounding us on each side, to the north and south … and to collect any supplies unattainable in the Crags. But mostly rekons were for information. Vetr or one of the skeppars led these expeditions. Always.
