Flames raged inside her head, but Una bit her tongue and struggled to suppress them.
“You promised you’d return,” she whispered.
“If I did, I shouldn’t have. I should have known my obligations would keep me here.”
“And her?”
Lionheart lowered his head, trying to look her in the eyes, but she turned away. “I am going to marry her, Una. I had no right to say any of those things I said to you. I am ashamed of any implications I made.
They were foolish, thoughtless – ”
“Which gives you the right to unmake them now?”
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, casting the world below into shadows. But Una’s world burned red.
“You asked me to trust you.”
“I take it back!” he cried, flinging up his hands. “Things change, Una. People change. Can’t you get that into your head? My promises to her are good, unlike any I might have made to you. I made them after winning back my kingdom, under my true name, not in disguise as a . . . as a Fool. As a lackey cleaning the dirty floors of those who should have been my peers! I am not ashamed of any promises I have made to her.”
Una stepped back as though struck. “You are ashamed of those you made to me?”
“Una – ”
“You are ashamed of me?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” he barked. “I am ashamed of that whole period of my life, that degrading, despicable – ”
“You never fought the Dragon,” Una said and gasped suddenly.
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t, and there’s no shame in that either. I must do what’s best for my kingdom. That includes not being devoured by monsters. Can you understand that? My people need me alive, not roasted.”
Fire flickered in her throat. “You never fought the Dragon.”
He spoke through clenched teeth. “I told you, Una, sometimes plans change. I’m sorry, but – ”
“I’m sorry?”
“Is that a question?”
“I suppose so. I’m trying it out for size. Usually I find that ‘sorry’ isn’t enough, so I don’t often bother with it anymore. . . .”
“It isn’t enough,” she whispered.
He shook his head, exasperated. “I can’t help that.”
“You never fought the Dragon.”
“No, and I won’t.”
“You never fought – ”
She swung her scale-covered arm at him, swiping with curved claws. He cried out and dodged aside, knocking her arm away, and she staggered forward on the bridge, bent double. The flames inside her burst through.
Lionheart shouted and fell flat, then pushed himself back on his hands and elbows as a pair of black wings rose and overshadowed him. “Una!” he shouted.
A dragon head reared up, roaring in pain and anger. Eyes like lava turned on him, and the gaze burned.
“You never fought the Dragon,” the monster spoke, and smoke rolled from her tongue. “Will you fight me now? Will you kill me?”
He lay paralyzed in her shadow, a dry scream trapped in his chest.
She leaned in, her fiery eyes threatening to engulf him, to burn him to embers. But her voice wavered. “Won’t you try, my prince?”
He covered his face with his arms, turned, and tried to crawl away. She placed a great claw on his back and pushed him to the ground. The bridge creaked and groaned. “You killed him,” she growled. “You killed my Leonard, Prince Lionheart, killed him as cruel as murder. But you won’t fight the Dragon. Coward!”
She felt his stiff body relax under her claw in hopeless certainty of death. She opened her mouth and felt the flames building inside to bellow forth and consume him.
Una! Where are you?
Behind the roaring of her fire, she heard a voice, small and silver.
A thrush song.
Una, I’m coming for you.
Wait for me.
She raised her head and let the flame burst out and burn the sky. Then her great wings opened and carried her up and up, into the deepening twilight.
Lionheart rolled over and lay upon the bridge, gasping, unable to make his lungs draw a complete breath, gazing up into the empty sky.
28
Felix walked from his bed on unsteady feet across the white stone floor to stand at the edge of his chamber. It was open to the outside world, high upon a great mountain, and looked out across a landscape altogether foreign to him.