The Dragon's Price (Transference #1)(31)

I blink away the vision of sky and ice and wind and point to the far end of the lake. “He got out through the dark water. It connects to another lake surrounded by snowcapped peaks.” I stare at the water and whisper, “I know how to swim, Golmarr. How do I know how to swim?”

“Can we get out that way?” he asks, ignoring my question.

I shake my head. “It is too far for a person to swim.”

He peers up at the crack in the ceiling, but already I know we will not be able to get out that way. “Zhun melted the rock around the fissure until it was slippery smooth, making it impossible to escape.” I grab my head in my hands and moan. “I shouldn’t know that! What is wrong with me?”

“I am going to ask you one more thing,” Golmarr says, his voice gentle. He puts his arm over my shoulders and pulls me against his chest. I lean into his body and try to absorb the heat from it, try to fill my hunger for warmth. “Where,” he asks, “does the dragon keep its treasure?”

The answer to his question is in my head before I have time to think about it. “Zhun had two treasures. First, his knowledge. Second, his freedom. But our ancestors took his freedom from him.” I whimper. Pain and sorrow tear at my chest, so powerful that I can barely breathe. Tears flood my eyes, and I start shaking with sobs for the imprisonment my ancestors caused the fire dragon. Golmarr’s other arm comes around me and he holds me tight. The heat from his body radiates outward and clings to my skin, and after a short while, I stop crying. “What is wrong with me?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

He rubs his hands over my back. “According to Nayadi, my family’s witch, when someone kills a dragon, a transference occurs. Its treasure automatically transfers to the slayer. You, Princess Sorrowlynn, slayed the fire dragon. Therefore, you inherited its treasure.”

I inherited the fire dragon’s treasure. My brain fills with sparks of light and bursts of color with that realization, and everything around me seems to solidify and bind together more perfectly than it ever has before. My feet connect more firmly with the earth, and the earth connects with my feet, like I have grown roots. I know this cave, every rock, every column, and I love it. I pull away from Golmarr’s embrace and run to the lake, diving headfirst into the water. My arms cut through liquid, pulling me down. I trail my fingers over the sandy lake bottom and smile. When my lungs ache with need of air, I burst forth from the lake’s surface and lie on my back, staring at the cave ceiling as I float atop the surface.

Within moments, my body begins to shiver, my teeth knocking together, and I swim to the shore and climb out. “I can swim,” I say, grinning at Golmarr as water drips down my face and body.

He returns the smile, and wonder fills his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he says.

My grin falters, and my heart pounds against my healed ribs. “So are you,” I admit.

Golmarr tilts his head to the side, and his eyes turn fierce. “I’m beautiful? I thought only women were beautiful.”

I shrug and shiver and laugh all at once. “Come on. I might know a way out of here.” I bend and pick up the hunting knife from the sand path, securing it against my back.

“But we don’t have a light.”

“I don’t need a light. I can find my way in the dark,” I whisper, and take his hand in mine.





We leave the dragon’s chamber by way of the sand path. It leads to a narrow tunnel barely wide enough for Golmarr and me to stand abreast. When we have gotten far enough away from the sunlight streaming through the dragon lair ceiling that the cave is almost pitch-black, I stop walking and close my eyes. Somewhere, deep in my mind, is the knowledge of how to get out of this cave. I can feel it in there. My thoughts grasp on to a memory, and a face flashes in my mind’s eye.

His blue eyes are what I remember, always twinkling and always far away, as if he lived somewhere else in his head—somewhere wonderful and bright, not the confining walls of my mother’s castle. But they are not twinkling now. No, Melchior the wizard’s eyes are flashing with determination as he hurries through the very tunnel I am standing in, a ball of brown light held in his outstretched hand. The ground beneath his feet rumbles, and he lengthens his stride. “Do not torch me yet, Zhun,” he hollers. “I wish to see you face to face first, you vile worm. I have a message that needs to be passed on to someone.”

Melchior? The word is spoken in the wizard’s head, and I know it is the fire dragon. Come to me, slayer, and speak. And then I shall eat you alive for killing my mate and locking me under this mountain!

“Yes, you shall,” Melchior whispers, and I feel the wave of apprehension that makes his old bones quiver.



“Sorrowlynn?” Golmarr grips my upper arm and gives it a shake, pulling me away from the memory of my old friend.

“Wait,” I say, focusing on Melchior. Finally, I know why he disappeared. He was eaten by the fire dragon.

“Sorrowlynn! We are not alone,” Golmarr hisses, and I hear the familiar swish of steel sliding against a scabbard. Melchior vanishes as my eyes open, and without so much as a thought, I pull the hunting knife from my waistband and center my weight over my feet. The weapon feels perfect in my hand, like it has always been there. I slash the air with it, swinging it from side to side to test the balance, and smile. The horse king gave me a very well-made weapon.