Page 79 of The Lost Princess

Power surged through my hand from Nasi, and I dug deep to find a tiny, blossoming connection between us. Not an official bond of any sort, but the beginning of something. I patiently coaxed it up with me, and then sank into it.

Darkness surrounded me. Then images faded and blurred, twisting away from my grasp the moment I tried to focus on it. I had to be patient.

Tattoos.

I waited for what felt like eons.

Eventually images floated about me: images of adult drakens. Males and females proudly displaying black and white tattoos. They flared brightly with magick when called upon, rushing eagerly to the drakens’ fingertips whenever called.

Something about the tattoos helped to control the magick. Every adult had at leastone. Nasi had none.

“I don’t know about this,” I whispered out loud.

My inner draken was firm.Mate. Save our mate.

I stood shakily, reluctantly leaving Nasi on the ground. I fished around the cave, finding a few bone slivers left from a meal. I drew it several times against the stone wall, sharpening the end into a vicious point.

“Ink. I need ink. Tattoos have ink.” My hopes fell. Nasi barely had any bowls or utensils in the cave; there was no way he had ink. And even if there wasn’t an entire kingdom after my blood, it was highly unlikely any of the local farms would have much either.

I slashed my claws against the cave walls, sparks exploding around my hands and falling to the ground. The urge to let out a distress call was strong, but I resisted. We were hidden for now. It wouldn’t do to let Alfred know our hiding spot simply because I had a temper tantrum.

I glanced back at Nasi, who was thankfully unconscious. My blood was drying on his lips. My inner draken nudged me.

“Oh surely not,” I grumbled out loud more from shock at such an idea, yet intrigued at the same time. Would it evenwork?

I grabbed the bone needle from where I’d thrown it in frustration, and squeezed it between my fingers. I crawled over to Nasi, tucking my wings behind me. His body continued to spasm every minute or so, and though I could touch him, the uncontrolled magick in his system sent small shocks through my body.

I hovered over his left shoulder, unsure how to begin. And whose blood did I use? I closed my eyes and let my inner draken guide me.

My hand moved and hovered at my free wrist. My fingers slashed horizontally, opening up a small wound that bled immediately. I dipped the tip of the needle into the dark blood, feeling power and purpose well in my veins. I kept my eyes closed, and my hand started tapping along his skin in tiny, purposeful stabs. I feared I was pressing much too hard, but I didn’t stop. I would have to trust the process. I would need to go deep to puncture through the outer scales and set the ‘ink’ into the skin underneath.

I didn’t trust myself, but I did trust my inner draken. I wouldn’t look until it was done. I prayed to the gods I didn’t kill Nasi or leave him horribly disfigured. It wasn’t as though I could ask him, but I would have to take his short utterance of‘tattoo’ as consent enough.

Pressure built in my chest as I worked, so I started to hum, then eventually sing. There weren’t words, but the melody was soothing as it rose and fell in time with my fingers: a strange, quiet power that swirled around us.

Guiding. Protecting.

My wrist burned and ached, but I didn’t stop. I let the extra blood drip onto the floor, patiently dipping the needle in again and again. Eventually I had to open my eyes as my wound healed over. I reopened it with a quick slice, a hiss of pain the only sound I made.

Unable to help myself, I glanced over at Nasi’s back.

And stared.

White swirls and lines wrapped around his upper shoulder like a caress, standing out against the gold of his scales. Outlining the white was a thick layer of black, making the design look almost alive.

Now the front.

I didn’t want to roll Nasi on his back. I didn’t want to hurt his wings, or the vicious white spikes on his back. Magick swirled and my inner draken was calm. Alright then, I’d let her lead.Again. I closed my eyes.

The hand without my needle reached out to him, and trailed one finger from the base of his neck straight down his spine. Even unconscious, Nasi shivered, and his back spikes and wings retreated into his back.

“Neat trick,” I muttered shakily, rushing to turn him over. It was difficult with my bleeding wrist, but I managed. I felt like I needed to finish the pattern on the front of his shoulder, and have it flare out to his clavicle. It likely wouldn’t feel good to be tattooed right against the bone there, but hewasunconscious.

I dipped the needle back into my blood, and kept working.

It must have taken a while because by the time I leaned back exhausted, the shadows in the cave were long, and the light that filtered through the opening left a golden cast on Nasi and I. With his scales gleaming in the sunlight, he glowed. The white and black marks on his body seemed to shimmer with his scales, but perhaps it was a trick of the light.

I only had his collarbone left to do. I shook out my uninjured wrist, my fingers cramped and achy. Nasi had stopped shaking a while ago and lay still. Gritting my teeth, I leaned down and worked on the tail of the last swirl, right against his collarbone.

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