Assassin's Blade

The Sponsalia

Eight Years Later...

"The greatest day of your life, they say," Fia hissed into the wind, leaning forward on her dragon's back. "It's going to be the greatest day of your life."

Ryelleth, her emerald dragon, looked over her shoulder at Fia as if concerned, golden sparks flying up from her breath. Fia leaned aside and they blew past her face.

"The greatest day of his life, sure," she told Ryelleth. "What will Carmelo get when he marries me? He gets my earnings, gets my body – and he gets you, my sweet dragon. And what do I get? I get penned up in some fine household with my body spitting out babies while he's off flying around ... flying around with you."

Furious, Fia tapped Ryelleth's neck. "Fire!" she called, and the dragon spit out a gout of flame that lit the air but gave her no satisfaction.

Today Fia was going to her sponsalia, the ceremony in which she'd formally be engaged to Carmelo. Fia couldn't take any joy in the flight of her emerald dragon as she usually did. Aloft on dragonback, Fia loved the air of heaven in her hair as Ryelleth's wings, wide as the sails of ships, hummed in the wind. Below, Fiorenza lay under them with a patchwork of red tile roofs, the streets below them curving in on themselves like an inescapable labyrinth.

Ryelleth grumbled low in her throat, cocking her head to glance back to Fia as if worried.

Fia patted her dragon's emerald scales with her fire-singed glove. At the sight of Ryelleth's compassionate, golden eyes, Fia suddenly had to work to maintain her composure though her head ached and her heart hurt.

This meeting had hung over her like a thundercloud for weeks. She'd been sick with dread ever since her papa had announced it.

Ryelleth's emerald scales gleamed like jewels below Fia's gloved hands, and sparks wreathed the old dragon's face.

Ryelleth had been a war dragon whose owner had died in combat – she had been one of those dragons that had fallen from the sky on that terrible day when Neva had been driven from the city. Fia had rehabilitated the old dragon, had worked with her since that terrible time. The old dragon had recovered, and Fia had retired her from war work. They'd worked together, ferrying people between the cities, for almost five years now. Ry was such a good dragon, so calm and steady –

Fia took a deep breath. Don't think of that. Not now.

And now her father's tower loomed up in the heart of Fiorenza as Ryelleth came winging in for the landing.

Ryelleth came in slowly, backwinging above the top of the tower, that lofty place that Fia called her aerie. Hot air blew up from Ry's wings, as well as dust from the top of the tower, and the dragon trotted a few steps upon landing, her talons striking up sparks on the stone.

Fia undid her sashes and slid down her dragon to the ground, ducking as her dragon's great wings stormed shut overhead.

Ryelleth usually went straight to the water trough to drink. This time, however, with a concerned groan, the great dragon brought her horned head down to Fia. Heat shimmered around Ry's face as she nudged Fia's arm in a sympathetic gesture.

Fia burst into tears.

She had been holding back her feelings all morning, but that sweet gesture from her old friend was too much. Fia's heart was full of what was to come. "Oh, my old friend, my dear friend," she sobbed, patting Ryelleth's mailed head with her gloved hands.

Ryelleth gazed at her with those great golden eyes, then nudged her gently again, a loving gesture.

"Don't, I can't, I just can't. It's not your fault." Fia's words were broken as she clung to her dragon's face, not caring if her asbestos sleeves were singed.