Chapter 27 Destroy Our Enemies
Daisy drifted in and out, half-alive, half-dreaming, all pain.
The air grew thin as Xeris soared. The landscape below was a patchwork of burning woods, shattered walls, and a vein of fire snaking where the menagerie had been. The wind should have hurt, should have frozen her through, but she barely noticed. The only sensation left was the pulsing heat in her ruined shoulder and the slow, echoing beat of her heart, and something bigger, deeper, just beneath it.
She realized, with a start, that she was feeling the dragon.
The connection was nothing like the clean, sharp voice that had guided her in the tunnels. This was messier: hunger, rage, and an old and private satisfaction as Xeris banked over the hills. Each time the wind hit his wings, Daisy felt it in her chest, as if she was both the rider and the beast.
Below them, the Manticore’s corpse sprawled in the streambed. Xeris landed beside it with a jolt that almost snapped Daisy’s bones all over again. The dragon set her gently in the grass, pinning her with one golden eye as he tore into the Manticore’s remains.
It wasn’t eating. It was annihilation.
With each bite, Daisy felt the magic being ripped from the beast, power pouring into Xeris. The air burned with it, the soil singed, even the stars above seemed to pulse. Through the blood-smeared haze, she watched the dragon’s wounds knit shut, the broken scales mending, the glow behind his eyes deepening until it hurt to look straight at him.
She wanted to be disgusted. Instead, she felt a sick thrill. This was survival. This was what winning looked like.
‘When nothing was left but a tangle of bones and blue fur,’ Xeris turned back to her.
‘You are poisoned,’ he said, not unkindly. His voice in her head was rougher now, tinged with something like amusement. ‘Your blood will stop soon, and then you will die.’
Daisy tried to answer, but her mouth was full of bile. She spit, the motion sending a fresh wave of agony up her side.
Xeris watched, head cocked. ‘You freed me, and now you will die without intervention. This creates... an inconvenience.’
She forced herself to speak, even if it came out as a ragged croak. “What, you want me to owe you?”
The dragon considered, tail swishing. ‘If you die, our bond dies. That would be a waste.’
He lowered his head, breath so hot it crisped the grass around her. Daisy closed her eyes, bracing for the end. Instead, she felt a rough, dry tongue sweep over her wounds, first the shoulder, then the broken leg. The sensation was electric, half pain, half relief. It burned, then cooled, then burned again.
She gasped, eyes flying open. The spiral birthmark on her wrist was glowing, each line a living ember. Blood welled from the bite, but it wasn’t red now; it was blue, the same blue as the menagerie’s wards, swirling and fizzing on her skin.
Xeris nudged her side, and Daisy felt something shift inside her: the venom thinning, the pain pulling back, a numb clarity settling over her mind. She could move her fingers. She could move her arm.
Her leg was still a mess, bone grinding under skin, but the magic was working. She looked up and met the dragon’s gaze.
“Why help me?” she whispered.
The eyes narrowed, not unkind. ‘In my time, bonds were sacred. Yours is old, but stubborn. Even my kind respected the stubborn.’
She laughed, or tried to, and it came out as a wet, ugly cough.
Xeris drew back, wings spreading wide. ‘We must leave. There will be hunters and others.’
She nodded, barely able to keep her head up.
The dragon scooped her up, talons surprisingly gentle. This time, when he launched into the night, Daisy felt every muscle of his body, every push of air beneath his wings. Her blood hummed with his. The pain faded, replaced by a new, raw hunger.
They rose above the burning menagerie, the city already waking with the promise of panic and pursuit.
Daisy’s last thought, as the cold air pulled her under, was that she was leaving herself behind. Whatever came next would be nothing like before.
She didn’t mind.