Chapter 325 She Is Dying

He had come forward. He stood in the center of the black floor, tall and still and pale, with a shirt half buttoned and his hair in his eyes. His face was calm. It was the calm of a lake the moment before a storm breaks. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet and level and so cold that Morgana felt it on the back of her neck.

"I told you that nothing leaves this palace, and no one touches her, until we know what she is."

"We did not touch her," said Aeris.

"You reached into her sleep."

"We called."

"And she walked."

"It was the only road we had."

"There are other roads." Draeven’s eyes burned. "You could have come to me. You could have sent a message. You could have asked."

"We did," growled Pyros. "We told you to bring her. In the Sanctum, the day the tower fell. And you stood there and told us you’d decide."

"I said we would decide after. I said we would weigh it."

"And how long, boy, was that going to take?"

"As long as it required."

"She is dying."

The words rang.

Nobody moved.

Pyros had not meant to say it. Morgana saw that at once, in the sudden shift of the great crimson head, in the way Aeris’s eyes went sharp and Auryn closed his. The huge red dragon drew back, as though he had burned his tongue.

"Who is dying?" said Draeven softly.

Silence.

"Who?"

"Nobody," said Aeris.

"That is not what he said."

"It was a figure of speech."

"You do not have figures of speech."

"Draeven." It was Thorne, quiet, behind him. "Later."

Draeven’s jaw tightened.

"Later," said Thorne again. "Look at her."

Draeven looked.

She was standing wrapped in his brother’s coat, with her head against Thorne’s chest and her eyes enormous. She was watching the three of them, the kings and the dragons, with the stunned, hollow look of someone who has been struck, and has not yet felt the pain.

Something in his face softened.

He let out a long breath. He turned, deliberately, back to the three dragons, and bowed his head. It was a slight bow, stiff and formal, the bow of a prince to a rival court.

"You will answer my questions," he said. "Later. All of them. But now the lady is frightened and cold, and I will not discuss her fate in front of her like a horse at a sale."

"We agree," said Auryn.

"Good."

"But before you take her....."

"I am not taking her anywhere."

"Before she goes," said Auryn, very gently, "she should hear what we have said."

"What have you said?"

"The name."

Draeven’s eyes narrowed.

"What name?"

Nobody answered.

He turned.

She had lifted her head. She was looking at him, over the black wool of Thorne’s collar, and he saw her face, white and drawn and quite determined. She drew a long unsteady breath.

"Atheris," said Morgana.

It was an extraordinary thing to say.

She felt it fall into the cavern like a stone into a well. She heard it echo, once, twice, off the glimmering walls. She felt Thorne go very still against her. She saw Kaelen’s face, white and startled, turn slowly toward her.

She said it again.

"His name is Atheris."

Her voice shook, and she let it.

"He’s a dragon. A very old one. He lives in a cave in the northern mountains, few hours walk from my village. He’s chained there." She swallowed. "I don’t know why. I’ve never known. I only know that when I was eight years old, I climbed a hill I wasn’t supposed to climb, and I fell, and something caught me."

"Caught you?" said Kaelen, in a strange voice.

"With his breath. It was....warm. It caught me in the air, the way a hand catches a falling cup." She wiped her cheek with the back of her wrist. "I never saw him then. I only felt it. I thought I’d imagined it. But at ten I went looking, with a stolen candle, and I found the cave." She laughed unsteadily. "I went back for years. At night. When my mother was asleep. He taught me things."

"What things?" said Draeven, very softly.

"How to...." She stopped.

How to hide, she thought. How to breathe. How to make my hands go cold.

"How to survive," she said. "That’s all. How to not be found."

"By whom?"

"I don’t know."

"You must have an idea."

"I don’t." She shook her head. "He never said. He only told me to be careful, and that someday I’d understand. And then you...." She turned to Kaelen. Her eyes were swimming. "And then you asked me, in the study if i know any dragon outside the palace, and I said no."

Kaelen’s face did not change.

"I lied," said Morgana.

The words came out of her very simply.

"I lied to you, Kaelen. I’m sorry. I should have said. I wanted to. I nearly did. But I’d been told for so long, not to tell, never to tell, not to anyone, and my hands went cold and my mouth wouldn’t....." She drew a shuddering breath. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. He’s the only one who ever....he never hurt me. He’s the only one who...."

She couldn’t finish.

She stood there, wrapped in the black coat, with her face wet and her chin up, waiting.

Nobody spoke.

Then Kaelen crossed the floor.

He did it slowly. The frost cracked under his bare feet. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she smelled snow and cold iron, and she braced herself for it, for anger, for hurt, for whatever he was about to say.

He put his hand against her cheek.

"I asked if you knew a dragon," he said, quietly. "Not if you’d tell me."

She stared at him.

"You’d known one for ten years," said Kaelen. "You’d known him since you were a child. He was the only thing in the world that had ever looked after you, and you were alone with that. For all those years. With nobody to say it to." His thumb stroked her cheekbone. "And I sat in a chair and asked you to hand him over."

"You didn’t....."

"I did. In a way." His mouth twisted. "I’m not angry, Morgana. I’m not even a little angry. I’m only...." He stopped. His voice cracked. "I’m only so glad he was there."