Dragon Blood

He hadn't yet uttered a word, but his eyes had followed me constantly. The surveillance bothered me, but it was the knowledge that he was a wizard that really gave me pause. Oreg was in a nearby copse of trees not a hundred yards away.

I knew where Oreg was because finding was my best talent. It was the only magic my father hadn't stolen from me the day he tried to beat me to death. I could work magic now, but finding was second nature.

I wish Oreg hadn't stopped so near us. In his dragon form he oozed magic. He covered it well, but I didn't know if he was aware how good Jade Eyes was. Dragons, I had learned, were arrogant creatures.

When I awoke, the first thing I saw was the mage's ice-green gaze.

"What is it?" Jade Eyes asked in a voice like honey, "that you do when you dream?"

It was an odd question and I couldn't see what he wanted from my answer.

Without conscious decision, I fell back upon my old habit of sounding stupid when I was defensive. "I sleep when I dream," I said. Had I done something while I slept?

"I could feel your magic beside us in the woods all night long," he said. "It tastes of you as your home tasted of you. But when the sun began to rise this morning and you awoke, the magic went away. Why is that?"

He had it backward, I thought. Oreg and I both tasted of my home, not the other way around. I realized that I'd been worried for naught. No one would believe in a dragon—Jade Eyes found it much easier to conjure up a new power from his imagination than to believe there were dragons at Hurog again. There was desire in his eyes that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the lust for power.

"I can't work magic anymore," I said. People who lusted after power were dangerous; one of them had destroyed Hurog.

"But that doesn't mean that the magic went away," he replied. "Magic doesn't do that. It came to us here and watched over you all night—I could feel it hover. You have given your magic an intelligence of its own. Did it happen when your father beat you?"

"If there is magic here, it is not mine," I said. I knew what must have happened: When Oreg had fallen asleep, he'd forgotten to mask his power. But Jade Eyes had certainly come up with an entertaining explanation.

He ignored me as if I hadn't spoken, rocking back on his heels and humming a bit to himself. When he stood up, he murmured, "I'll have to tell the king about this. How interesting."

Garranon's eyes met mine, worried. I shrugged. It wasn't a good thing to draw Jade Eyes's attention, but there was nothing I could do. Oreg was supposed to meet me in Estian, but he'd followed instead, and I had no way to tell him not to.

Ah, well, I thought, at least Jade Eyes thinks it is just me he is feeling. Nothing that would endanger Hurog.

Jade Eyes didn't speak to me again during the remainder of our journey, but he watched me all day, and when I awoke each morning, he was seated by my side staring at me again. The desire to cross my eyes and stick out my tongue at him grew almost overwhelming. But I was Hurogmeten and I had my dignity.

I was a model prisoner, joining in dicing games in the evening, and rowdy songs during the day. The general, whose name I finally discovered was Lawin, eventually only tied me at night. I didn't play stupid—as I once had—but I didn't go out of my way to discuss philosophy and battle strategies, either.

Garranon kept to himself, like a man who'd betrayed a friend. I'd have told him not to fret, but it would have looked odd for me to search him out. I knew he'd had little choice. Jakoven liked to watch people writhe. Truth was, I wasn't precisely Garranon's friend; men in his position couldn't afford to have friends. But I liked him, and always had.

On the evening of the third day of the journey, Garranon sat down beside me. He squinted his eyes and looked at two of the men who were putting up a tent with swift efficiency.

"Gods, I'm sorry, Ward," he murmured in a voice that wouldn't carry farther than my ears.

"No need," I said back. "I know whose decision this is."

We sat for a while more in a surprisingly companionable silence.

"He can't decide what to do with me," said Garranon with bitter amusement. Someone else might have thought the comment came out of the blue.

"Jakoven?"

"Jade Eyes is his new favorite."

I nodded my head. "Does it bother you?"

Garranon laughed. "Not if he would let me go. I have a son, did you know?" He continued without waiting for my nod. "He's three and I've seen him twice. When I request leave to go to my estates, Jakoven says he can't do without me."

"Jakoven's still punishing you for joining Haverness to run the Vorsag out of Oranstone?" It wasn't really a question.

He shrugged. "I don't know what he's doing." He buried his head in his knees. "I'm not entirely certain he does, either."

I disagreed. I thought the king knew exactly what he was doing to Garranon, but I didn't say so.

We stayed there in silence until it was time to sleep. I hope I helped him as much as he helped me keep my panic at bay. Oreg was nearby, but I couldn't see any way out of this without putting Hurog at war with the king. Maybe my uncle would do better.

It grew harder to keep up the "Hail, fellow, well met" image as we got closer to Estian. The last morning of the journey, General Lawin put iron manacles on my wrists.

"Sorry," he said, half apologetically, and handed me a water skin.

Feeling sympathy for him, I drank his peace offering. I gave it back to him and he took it gingerly.

He met my eyes squarely and said, "I am very sorry, my lord. I must do my duty."

Foreign magic, tainted and foul, burned through me, and I realized he hadn't just been talking about the manacles.

"The water," I said hoarsely. "Something in the water." Something more than the herbs my mother had favored.

Two guards, eyes lowered and faces grim … I blinked my eyes and they were replaced by two fire demons that clutched my manacles in their clawed hands. I spun, and the demons fell away from me to lie broken on the ground.

The pain of the magic elixir made my arms shake. Sweat ran into my eyes and distorted my vision until everything I saw was blurred in hues of red.

Someone called, "We need help!"

"I am helping," said a monster with glowing jade eyes. "If I don't keep this barrier up, his magic guardian in the woods will destroy us all. That's why I had to wait until now, during the day, when it is at its weakest. You go fight him—that's what you do."

They came with clubs and swords, and I hurled them into the ocean that somehow yawned behind them. After the first few, though, the demons were ready and their weapons began to find their mark.

"I thought the king wanted him alive," someone exclaimed harshly. For a moment I knew it was Garranon, but then that understanding left me.

It was hard to fight with the manacles on, so when I'd won myself some space, I pulled. The links bent, but not enough.

Someone swore, then said, "Look at what he did to that chain."

Something hit me in the back of the knee and I stumbled. My vision exploded in a flash of light as I was hit again.

I woke on a pile of straw in a small room dimly lit by a window high above. Garranon sat on his heels beside me.

"The demons didn't get you," I whispered, because I was certain I could hear the rustle of their feet just outside.

"I think they did," he said, sounding sad.

There was something I'd wanted to tell him, but I couldn't quite … "I have a secret," I said.

"Don't tell anyone," he replied, looking a little worried.

"It's for you—Ward wants you to know."

"Ah." He looked a little confused, but made no other sound.

"Isn't your fault," I said. It was harder to talk than usual, my tongue felt swollen. "Jakoven would have done it anyway."