I can’t help thinking they’re right, and it’s making me sloppy. I keep letting things slip, as if my mouth and my brain aren’t connected anymore. Last night, I told the men all about Dragons. The Fisan royals have Sybaris, a terrifying She-Dragon whose favorite pastime is to chomp mortals. They don’t use her to take over Tarva only because Tarva has Scylla, the She-Dragon’s sister. They’re both magic-bound to protect their realms, but the two won’t fight each other. Generations ago, Dragon use turned into a giant stalemate with lots of huffing and fiery puffing, but no army eating. Most people don’t even remember the Dragons are still there. Sinta had Echidna, the third sister, to ward off the other two. As soon as royal magic wasn’t containing her anymore, anyone with an ounce of sense and some knowledge of Thalyrian history knows Echidna must have flown off to the Ice Plains. Before, everyone had a Dragon. Now Sinta is the only realm without.
“How do you fight a Dragon?” Beta Sinta’s voice is deep and right in my ear. I have two feet of rope and not enough space.
“With another Dragon.”
“How do you get a Dragon?”
“With magic.”
He looks at me, but I don’t look back. My eyes follow the sparks popping from the campfire.
His tone grows clipped. “And if you don’t have magic?”
“Then you don’t have a Dragon.”
My wandering mind snaps back to birches, daggers, and Sintan warriors. “Find me fruit and bread, and I’ll consider being less of a pain. And no more goat cheese!”
Beta Sinta looks at me for a long time and then walks away.
Okay then. I turn back to Flynn. His auburn hair catches the last few rays of dappled sunshine sneaking through the canopy of leaves, framing his strong, square face in a red-gold glow. He looks pleased and claps me on the back like I’m part of the team. He hits me so hard I nearly fall on my face.
I don’t want to like him. I don’t want to like any of them. I don’t want to be part of their team.
“I might be able to drive a Dragon.” Gah! Where did that come from?
Carver, Flynn, and Kato cheer loudly, drawing Beta Sinta’s attention. He looks curious, and I turn my back on him, feeling vaguely ill.
Twenty minutes later, Flynn lands two daggers near the edge of the knot, and I can’t help it. I jump up and down and clap.
CHAPTER 7
I squint into the heat haze, wondering if I’m hallucinating. “Is that a town?” I was starting to think we’d go all the way to Sinta City without ever staying at an inn.
Sleep in a bed? With Beta Sinta?
My stomach flips over at the thought, even though I’ve been sleeping next to him on the ground.
Maybe he’d just tie me to the bed?
What flashes through my mind makes wildfire splash across my cheeks when I should be seething. I am seething. Beta Sinta keeps me infuriatingly close—on horseback, at meals, in streams. At night. His scent is constantly in my nostrils, the heat of him always scorching my skin.
“Better. A market town.” He turns, smiling at me, and the outside of his thigh brushes the inside of mine. My pulse picks up, and there’s an excited leap in my chest. My unruly physical reaction to him makes me want to kick myself in the head. Or kick him in the head.
“Why now? Not that I’m complaining.” I can put a muzzle on my animosity for a few hours in exchange for a market town.
“You said you’d be less of a pain in exchange for fruit and bread. And no more goat cheese.”
I fight the smile tugging at my lips. “I said I’d consider it.”
“For more soap and a drying cloth, maybe you’ll get us a Dragon,” he adds hopefully.
Of course the others told him about that. They’re worse than a bunch of gossiping fishwives. I can’t even yawn without it being reported back to Beta Sinta within the hour.
“I’ll need more than that for a Dragon. And I don’t even know if I can.”
“You could try.”
I snort. “That’s not my motto.”
I can’t see his face, but I know he’s grinning. His high spirits make me want to grin back, which worries me. Does Beta Sinta think he’s won? How did I even end up here?
“What were you doing at the circus only a few months after taking over Sinta? Didn’t you have other things to do?”
He chuckles, a deep, vibrating sound that rumbles through my body. That fluttery feeling irritates my chest again.
“I told you, I need Magoi on my side. The circus is full of them, but from what I could see, they’re not the usual pretentious, prejudiced lot.”
True. “And abduction seemed like a good idea?”
“I asked first.”
“More like ordered. And threatened my friends.”
He shrugs. “I told you. I do what needs to be done.”
My hackles instantly rise. “Who are you to decide what needs to be done? That’s subjective by nature. No two people think alike.”
“Someone has to decide. Without rulers, there’s chaos.”
Damn it! That’s true. “We had rulers. There was order.”
“There was oppression.”
Damn it! That’s true, too.
“Hold on,” he says. My hands automatically land on his waist while he urges his horse to jump a lightning line. The mark of Zeus stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions, a charred scar cutting across dust, stones, and yellowed grass, proof that the Gods are never far from Thalyria.