Dawnbreaker [Inheritance Cycle]

11. Forbidden Bond

Walking down an ornate staircase, she approached the pedestals upon which stood identical statues of stone.

It was silent in the peculiar cathedral. Everyone else had left.

She was about to as well when–

"Oh, I thought they'd never leave."

She started, looking around but finding nothing. The voice sounded feminine and seemed to come from everywhere around her, like a whisper.

"You and I are inseparable now. Through your actions, we have forged an age-old bond; between my kind and yours."

Frowning, she said out loud, "And what would that be?" She was responded to with playful laughter.

"One wish granted deserves another, O Murderer Mine."

-

When dawn came, Serafyna woke to find the dragon sitting atop her bedpost, looking out of the window, like an ancient sentinel welcoming the new day.

Sunlight streamed over its scales. Serafyna marveled at its color. She had never seen such a deep, hard red. Its scales were like hundreds of small ruby gemstones that reflected the light.

She held up her left hand, properly inspecting it, and noticed that the white oval on her palm, where she had touched the dragon, had a silvery sheen. It both awed and worried her. This may pose a problem. She hoped she could hide it by keeping her hands dirty. If people saw, they'd ask questions.

The dragon launched off the post and glided to the floor. She got up and quickly got dressed for the cold weather, then gingerly picked up the dragon and left the quiet house, pausing to grab meat, several leather strips, and as many rags as she could carry.

She had come up with an idea last night before drifting off to sleep.

The crisp morning was beautiful; a fresh layer of snow covered the farm. She smiled as the small creature looked around with interest from the safety of her arms but did not dare waste time. Hurrying across the fields, she walked silently into the dark forest, searching for telltale marks she had left along a rough trail; scratch marks on tree trunks, pieces of cloth tied to branches, and more of a similar sort.

Eventually, she managed to pick her way through the forest to a secluded clearing; the refuge, as she often referred to it. The last time she was here was right after the confrontation with Sloan.

The inactive campfire in the center was buried under a layer of snow, like everything else after the recent days of snowstorms. Branches of surrounding trees were snow-tipped gray fingers that reached toward the sky.

Serafyna figured this was the best place to keep the dragon away from prying eyes, as she often used this place as a refuge from her troubles, people included.

She set the dragon down on the trunk of a fallen tree and placed the various items she'd brought onto the ground, getting to work.

Gathering an armful of sticks, Serafyna climbed the largest tree on the edge of the clearing and built a crude hut high in the branches, layering the inside with rags to make it comfortable and stashing the meat inside. Cutting the leather into strips, she tied them around the branches to function as harnesses to hold the entire structure in place. In the end, she hung more rags over the front of the shelter to keep heat inside.

She surveyed her work with a critical eye as snow fell on her face, the tree swaying.

Satisfied, she reached down and lifted the dragon into the branches. "Time to show you your new home." It wriggled, trying to get free, then clambered into the hut, where it ate a piece of meat, curled up, and blinked coyly at her.