The dragon closed its eyes and bowed before Ina, lowering its head nearly to the ground in submission. She wiped away the blood from its face as tenderly as a mother might smooth away a child’s tears. Then she ran her hand over one of the pearlescent horns jutting from its neck, gently exploring the contours of the spikes down its spine. The dragon quieted and softened under her touch, a low thrum rising from its throat.
Tears glistened on Ina’s cheeks, and though every fiber of me twisted with fear for her and horror for what I’d done, I sensed that her tears were not only those of loss, but also relief. She had finally found her manifest, the creature that answered something in her. Yet the price had been everything she had ever loved. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Would she still have bonded with the dragon if I hadn’t interfered?
She lay down beside the creature, fitting herself beneath a milky wing. Her body seemed to elongate and pale, magic enveloping them until I could no longer see where the dragon ended and she began. The girl merged with the dragon, and then the beast stood up with a new spark of intelligence in her eyes. The manifestation was complete.
I tried to calm my breathing, convince my heart to ease its pace. There wasn’t anything I could do to change this now.
Ina unfurled her white wings and fluttered them as though testing the air. The taut skin over her wing bones shimmered like it was dusted with silver. Then she took to the sky, awkwardly at first but quickly learning the ways of her new form. I ran after her as she flew back toward the village, even though it was foolish to try to keep up as she circled and swept and dove overhead with the grace of a heron.
It did not take her long to tire, and soon she winged back down to earth, landing clumsily near me. My heart raced. How much of the girl I loved was left in the creature she had become? As if to answer, she slowly folded in on herself, magic blurring the edges of the dragon’s form until it shrank into Ina’s familiar body.
When the transformation was complete, she fell to her knees. A deep scratch adorned her face from cheekbone to jawline. The injury she’d inflicted upon the dragon now belonged to her.
“Ina?” I said tentatively, stepping closer on trembling legs. “Are you all right?”
She staggered to her feet and met my frightened stare, but her eyes no longer looked quite like those I recognized as Ina’s. They were darker. Colder.
“It hurts,” she said, her voice small. “No one told me how much it would hurt.”
I didn’t know if she meant the ritual itself or everything that had led her to this point. Perhaps both. In my Sight she glowed with the intensity of an open flame. I touched her arm, and even through the fabric of her cloak I could feel the heat of her skin. If there had ever been any doubt before about the permanent presence of the dragon within her, that touch dispelled it. She burned with the dragon’s magic, an amount of power and presence that a body her size should not have been able to contain. I withdrew my hand, trying not to let the shock register on my face. I had never heard of anyone taking a dragon as a manifest.
“Did I hurt you?” Her lip quivered.
I shook my head as tears stung my eyes. What had I done?
“I don’t . . . I don’t feel well.” She staggered to a stone bench and sat down for a moment before retching into the ashes of the burned house behind it.
“Recovering from your first manifestation takes time,” I said, collecting myself. She needed me. I placed a hand softly on her back. “It will be a while before you’re comfortable in your new skin.” I tried to find more words of reassurance, but my worries silenced me. If it was difficult to recover from manifesting as a deer or a rabbit or a mouse, how much worse would it be to recover from the dragon? They outlived humans by hundreds of years. Who knew how it would affect Ina to constantly carry that with her, especially without the protection of the gods?
“I don’t have time, but I do have what I need,” she said. Her voice carried a detached confidence that unsettled me.
“You should rest. Why don’t you come back to my cave? There are tinctures I can make to help ease the pain. And something for that cut, too.” My voice came out pleading.
Something savage flashed in her eyes.
“I don’t want to ease the pain. Pain is my reminder that those who killed my people must pay.” The cruelty in her voice terrified me. I clutched fistfuls of my cloak to keep my hands from shaking.
“But it could take days, weeks even, before your manifest settles—especially without a god to guide you through this!” A note of panic crept into my voice.
“It doesn’t matter if it settles, as long as those bastards die. This form has given me everything I could possibly need to destroy them.” She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together and a spark popped from between them.
My eyes widened.
She tried it again, and this time a flame sputtered at the end of her finger and then died.
“Seems I’ve acquired more than a manifest,” she said with wonder.
I was speechless. I had never heard of anything like this. Performing the blood rite and bonding with the dragon had given her the kind of access to magic that only a demigod or a monarch should have. I didn’t know if it was the creature or the ritual. Mortals were meant to be able to draw on enough magic to take a manifest, but not to wield it like kings. How would she learn to use it without the guidance of a god?
What had I done?
“I promised I would take care of the village. Avenging their deaths is all I can still do for the people I love.” She paused. “Loved. The people I loved.”
She let go of her human form, her limbs elongating back into those of the dragon.
“Stop! Please don’t do this!” I said, my voice cracking. While the rite hadn’t killed her, overextending herself so shortly after taking her manifest might. She couldn’t possibly be thinking clearly after all that had happened today. If she managed to kill the bandits, how would she feel later with all that blood on her hands? This wasn’t the Ina I knew.
“There are other ways to seek justice. More death isn’t the answer. It never is. This isn’t you, Ina. The girl I love is passionate, and gentle, and kind. Please—” I begged.
Her transformation faltered, and she slipped back into fully human form. It would take time for her manifest to settle and for her to be able to change shape as easily as breathing. For most mortals it took at least a few moons. With no guidance from a god, it would certainly take longer.
“I can do anything now, and I won’t let you stop me.” She gritted her teeth, and finally her clothes reshaped into scales as she fully transfigured.
“No!” I ran after her as she launched into the sky, my heart beating a staccato rhythm.
She flew away without looking back, a moonlit silhouette against the smoke and stars.
I collapsed to the ground, sobs and shivers racking my body. I couldn’t believe she’d left me so easily. I had never been more alone, and I had only myself to blame. One wish, one hope, one sentence in blood had killed everyone I was supposed to watch over.
Because of me, Ina had become a monster.
CHAPTER 7
I STAGGERED THROUGH THE VILLAGE, HALF BLIND with grief and fear, trying to climb out from beneath the weight of my guilt. Something tripped me on the path back toward the mountain. A closer look revealed it to be the remains of a small person. Probably a child. Tears burned down my cheeks. Half of me wanted to lie down on the ground and die with those I should have kept safe.
Only one thing kept me moving—I had to stop Ina while the newness of her manifest would still slow her down. Once she was at full strength, she’d be nearly unstoppable. If I caught up with her, I could make tinctures to soothe her grief and the pain of her manifestation before she did something she’d regret. That was one thing I could do with confidence. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t selfishly decided to try to determine her fate.