The Dragon's Price (Transference #1)(49)

“It burns!” I shriek, thrashing against the covers. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry,” Golmarr whispers, pressing more firmly against me. I arch my back and try to fling myself from the bed. “Enzio?” he yells. “Enzio! I need your help!”

Enzio steps inside and, without any instruction, pins my ankles to the bed. Kicking and shrieking, I try to break their hold until I am so drained I cannot find the energy to fight. Defeated, I close my eyes and sob while the heat pulses in time with my heart, and every pulse sends it higher up my body until it reaches my neck. When it gets to my face and scalp, the fire beneath my skin cools into comfortable warmth, and my eyes grow heavy. My body sags with relief, my eyes slip shut, and Golmarr cautiously lifts his hands from my shoulders.

“Here, have her drink this,” a woman says. Her voice sounds far away, but a moment later, someone lifts my head and presses a hot clay cup to my lips.

“Drink, Sorrowlynn,” Golmarr whispers. I part my lips and let a sip of hot, salty broth enter my mouth. When I swallow, I can feel the heat of it trickle all the way down to my stomach. I take another sip and turn my head from it. It is scorching my insides.

“We are warming water on the fire. When we have enough, we will put her into a hot bath.” I recognize that voice as Edemond’s. “Thank you for saving my people, Dragon Slayer. We are in your debt.” I crack my eyes open and peer through my lashes. Edemond is patting Golmarr on the back.

“I didn’t—” Golmarr says, but Edemond cuts him off.

“Of course you didn’t, Ornald. But whatever you and your love need, we will get it for you.” Edemond leaves the wagon, and it is just Golmarr and me inside. He leans forward and kisses my forehead, and I quietly sink into slumbering warmth.





“Bath time!” I jump awake and stare into piercing pale blue eyes. Melisande, Edemond’s wife, pulls my covers back, and I realize that for the first time in days, I am warm.

“I don’t want to get up yet,” I say, reaching for the covers. She yanks them away from me before I can pull them back on.

“We just spent an entire morning heating up enough water for you to soak in a hot tub. So get up.” She has her hands on her hips, and one of her toes is impatiently tapping the wagon floor.

She makes me think of Nona, and a smile pulls against my mouth. “All right.” I stand and stretch, and look for the tub. “Where am I to bathe?” I ask.

She grins. “Outside, of course. That way, when you are done, we don’t have to haul the water back outside to dump it.”

“Outside? But isn’t that…improper?” I think of Golmarr watching me bathe, and heat floods my cheeks. “What if…someone…sees?”

The woman laughs. “We might be forest dwellers, but we aren’t ill-mannered. I have already had the men tie up a barrier of blankets around the tub. Let’s go.”

I follow her out of the wagon, into the filtered green light of the forest. Only, not all of it is filtered. In the middle of the camp, where the dragon shattered the trees, golden sunlight is rippling through. Right in the middle of the sunlight is a circle of colorful blankets fluttering in a gentle breeze and hanging from ropes tied to tree trunks.

The ground is wet beneath my bare feet, and water seeps between the cracks of my toes every time I step. One spot I step on, the water gushes up pink, and I think of the dragon’s blood splattering the ground. Here, the flowers are sagging, their leaves a rotting black pulp.

At the circle of blankets, Melisande holds one up, and I step inside. A big brass tub is centered in the circle, and steam is rising up out of it. Without a word, Melisande lifts the pale yellow dress off over my head. She helps me out of my lace bloomers and holds them up with a quiet chuckle. My cheeks flame. “Wedding undergarments,” I explain.

Melisande steps in front of me, and one of her eyebrows is raised. She quickly lifts the camisole over my head. Holding her offered arm, I step over the side of the tub. As my leg sinks calf deep into the steaming water, I suck air through my teeth. “It hurts,” I say, leaping back out.

She puts her hands on her hips and pulls her lips tight against her teeth, contemplating me. “If you don’t get in and stay in,” she says, voice low and menacing, “I am calling that young man of yours over here to help me put you in. What did you say his name was?”

I swallow and fold my arms over my naked chest. “Ornald.”

She puts a finger over her mouth and shakes her head. “No, that is not the name you shrieked when he was fighting the dragon. You called him Golmarr. Do you know what Golmarr means?”

Shivering, I shake my head.

“Gol means dragon, and Marr means destroyer. Do you know what language that is?”

I shake my head again and wish I weren’t naked. I want to run from this woman.

“That, my girl, is the ancient language of Anthar. In fact…” She takes a small step closer to me, and I back up until the backs of my legs are pressed against the side of the tub. “In fact, King Marrkul’s youngest son, who disappeared with the reputedly beautiful Princess Sorrowlynn of Faodara not seven days ago, is named Golmarr. What do you think of that?”

“I think I’m ready to bathe,” I say, and gingerly step over the side of the tub. The water sears my calves so intensely that I can’t help but compare it to the whippings I got as a child. I whimper and grit my teeth. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, I lower the rest of my body into the tub. The heat from the water scalds my skin, warms my blood, and finally seeps into my bones. I close my eyes and let the water lap at my chin.