Page 139 of Iron Hearts and Dragon Magic

Naia chuckled, such a lovely, musical laughter. “Didn’t the dumbass realize we’re in a room with tons of metal?”

This was another complicated concept. “I don’t think he’s truly aware of your magic, Naia. I don’t think he knows about yournatureeither.”

“But if he knows about Fel…”

“He doesn’t know that much. He could influence me on what to do, but not see my mind. That until I did that thing in Ironhold, with that red dagger.” A horrible feeling came to River, now that he had mentioned Naia’s brother. Horrible, dreadful. He stared at her. “Naia.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

How could he tell her that? How could henottell her? River swallowed, trying to find the words. It was like having to bury a dagger into someone, while trying to find the angle to hurt the least. “Your brother was a great warrior, a magnificent dragon, and he would die fighting, you know that?”

“Tell me, River.”

“In Frostlake. I… Cynon….” River shut his eyes. There was only one way to bury a dagger with the least damage—and it wasn’t by meandering. He looked at her. “Killed his dragon form.”

“What?” The color faded from her face.

“He was with another dragon, an ally.” Naia stared at him open-mouthed, while he scrambled for a way to explain what he’d seen. “Cynon used mindmelding on this other dragon and made him kill…” He took a deep breath. “Isofel. I…” How could he have been so stupid? “I did not predict it, I had no way to stop it, Naia. I was shocked. When I found a way to counter his magic, it was too late. The other dragon killed himself. I… have no words to express how sorry I am.”

She stared at him for a while, then said, “It was not your fault, and you know that.” Her eyes were wet with tears and her voice dry, emotionless.

But ithadbeen his fault. His fault for not seeing what was happening when he could still do something, his fault for walking straight into a trap, for not even listening to her when she pointed out all his inconsistencies, but this wasn’t the time to argue or make the case for his blame. He wanted to console her, but he didn’t know how to do that. Would she want him to hold her, or would she want to stay as far away from him as she could?

Naia dried a tear, then asked, “Why Frostlake? How did he even get there so soon?”

“Cynon was opening a passage there. It was the whole point of the dome. Your brother destroyed it—with little damage to the city. His act was heroic.” He then added, “Not that it will bring him back.” River knew what the pain of losing a sibling was like, and it wasn’t something he wished upon anyone.

Her eyes were unfocused as she shook her head. “No. He’s not dead. He’s not dead, River. I think I would know it.”

He wasn’t sure if that was her way to cope or if it was indeed an intuition. “Maybe. I know very little about dragons.” Now that River forced his memory, he could recall Cynon looking for Fel’s human form, watching to see if he would change, but nothing happened. And yet he didn’t want to tell this to Naia and kill her only sliver of hope. If that hope was what it took to keep her going, at least for now, then he wasn’t going to smother it.

River finally decided to pull her close and embrace her. “I’m sorry, so sorry, Naia.”

“At least it’s you now. Welcome back,” she whispered.

They spent a long time in silence, the candles burning and their breath the only sound in the room. River’s memories from the time he hadn’t been in control were getting clearer and clearer, and they only made him anxious, but this was the time to comfort Naia, not think about all the trouble ahead.

When she broke the hug she had a faint smile. “At least Cynon is gone. We won.”

Oh, no. All he felt was a horrifying dread all over his body. He had to tell her the truth, but didn’t think this was the time to ruin her only consolation.

Too late. He must have told her with his face alone.

She frowned. “What? What, River? He’s not gone? You’re still in danger?”

“I’m… I think you truly severed the bond. Your fire… it did something. I don’t think I’m going to be used as a vessel anymore, but—”

“I killed Cassius.”

“There are other people in Ironhold who can be the vessel. King Harold, for example. I think that was the plan all along, until Cynon found me—a mindmelding Ancient, resistant to iron. It must have been like coming across a pot of gold.”

She rolled her eyes. “I love how humble you are.”

It was good to see some playfulness in her, but in truth it wasn’t something River found funny. He had never asked to be born with this magic, and was horrified that it had been used for such atrocities.

And yet he smiled and touched her face. “You should be glad I’m pretentious, or I’d never have asked you to run away with me.” And then perhaps it was the wrong thing to say, as maybe if they had never gotten together, maybe… What could he have changed? How much could he have done differently?

Beneath her sadness, there was a hint of a smile on her face. “I’m glad you did.”

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