Rogue Wave (Waterfire Saga #2)(51)

“We don’t have a choice!” Basra shouted. “If we go back for her, we might all die!”

Neela didn’t want to go with Basra. She wanted to go back for Ikraan. But Basra’s grip was like a vise, and Neela was too weak from blood loss to break free. She knew that the Askari were trained to leave one of their own if saving him or her endangered them all. It was more important that the group, not the individual, survived. If Basra couldn’t save Ikraan, how could Neela? Basra was so much tougher than she was, and Basra had decided.

Someone is always deciding, Neela thought as Basra continued to pull her away. My father and mother. Suma. My teachers. The grand vizier. Even the subassistant.

They decided what she did. What she wore. What she studied. Where she went. All she could decide was what flavor bing-bang to eat.

So she ate them. One after another. More and more. Stuffing down her frustration and her anger. Distracting herself from her pain with shiny wrappers. Eating sweets so she could stay sweet. So she could keep smiling, keep nodding, keep glowing—just a bit, not too much.

Someone was always deciding. And it was never her.

With a wild cry, she broke free of Basra and swam back into the cave.

“Neela, stop!” Basra shouted.

But Neela didn’t listen. The talisman, heavy in her hands, was no longer pale. Neither was Neela. They were both cobalt blue and shining brightly. She raced toward the treasure pile. As she crested it, she saw Ikraan lying dazed on the ground near the nest. The dragon must have knocked her down. He was advancing on her now, lashing his tail, baring his horrible teeth.

Hardly knowing what she was doing, Neela held the moonstone out in front of her with one hand. Wisps of light emanated from it, curling like tendrils through the water. She wound the skeins of light together with her other hand until she had a large glowing ball. The dragon was standing over Ikraan now; he opened his mouth and hissed at her.

“Hey, tall, dark, and ugly! Over here!” Neela yelled.

The dragon looked up—and got a lightbomb straight to the face. He roared in pain and fell backward, clawing at his eyes.

Neela shoved the moonstone into her pocket, then raced to Ikraan. “Get up! Hurry!” she said, tugging her arm.

Ikraan rose woozily. Neela looped the Askara’s arm over her neck and they swam over the treasure pile. The dragon was blinded, but he could still use his sense of smell. He crawled up the pile, swiping at them, but missed. He lost his balance and fell backward, bringing a ton of treasure down on his head.

Neela and Ikraan hurried to the mouth of the cave. Basra and the others were waiting for them there. Basra was furious. She grabbed Ikraan with one hand and Neela with the other and swam, hard and fast, yelling at Neela the whole way.

Neela couldn’t have cared less. Ikraan was with them. Alive.

After a tense, breathless half hour, they were out of the breeding grounds. Basra stopped at a reef, and ushered them all under an overhang of coral, where they would be out of sight. Naasir immediately set to work cleaning and dressing Neela’s wounds. The Askari all carried small amounts of medicine and bandages on them, and they pooled their resources to tend to her back. Naasir tried to be gentle, but the slashes were deep and his ministrations hurt. Neela winced, but didn’t whimper. When he was done cleaning the wounds, he hunted for some kelp fronds to tie across her back to keep the dressing secure.

“I got the scratches pretty clean, but you’re going to have to see the healer as soon as we’re back at Nzuri Bonde. Dragon claws are filthy. We need to make sure the cuts don’t get infected,” he said.

“Merl, you’re going to have some serious scars,” Ikraan said.

Neela turned to look at her, struck by the admiring note in her voice. “You almost sound envious. I don’t know why,” she said. “I’ll never be able to wear a backless dress again.”

“I’m totally envious! Nothing’s hotter than dragon scars. Not to a Kandinian. Most mer who get that close to a dragon end up getting eaten. And you better wear backless dresses! I’m telling you, once those heal, every merboy in Nzuri Bonde will be after you. Right Naas?”

Naasir smiled bashfully. He finished with the kelp fronds. “That’s going to have to do for now. We have to get to the prison,” he said.

While Naasir was tending to Neela, Basra sat off by herself, at the edge of the overhang. She didn’t even come over to see if Neela was okay. Looking at her now, silent and stony-faced, Neela felt a flash of irritation. She’d risked her life, taken a hit from a dragon, and saved Ikraan. What else did she have to do to prove herself to this merl?

Fed up, she swam over to her. “I saved your friend, you know. She was about to become baby food,” she said. “The least you could do is say thanks.”

Basra, still looking straight ahead, shook her head. “No, Neela,” she said, “you saved my sister.”

She rose then, took her armlet off—the one made from coral, with all her dragon kills on it—and placed it on Neela’s arm. “It doesn’t match your outfit, but I hope you’ll take it anyway,” she said.

Neela looked at the armlet, then swallowed the lump in her throat. “Matching is soooo yesterday,” she said. “This season it’s all about contrast.”

Basra touched her forehead to Neela’s.

“Thank you,” Neela said. “I’ll always treasure this armband. It’s totally invincible.”