Black as Blood (Part Two)

Iris Mengae

While Ralem and Jaydon silently endured Drake’s ceaseless talking, Daemon was inside doing things that were actually important. He bit his lip as he leaned over the page he was writing on, pausing to run the quill’s feather over his cheek, thinking deeply. He was in Baroke history class, something that Ralem only got out of because he couldn’t read. The fool though Daemon as he tenderly touched his poor broken nose. The swelling had gone down, but it was now permanently crooked. He thinks he can take on the responsibility of King. And what qualifications does he have? Oh, I forgot. Zero. I’ve got to get Arianna out of here before the peasant breaks her heart. She can’t marry him. Not only will he not meet the needs of her country, but he won’t meet her needs. He scribbled down an answer, though he was thinking of something different, something he was starting to thought about more and more often.

                   If only I had not touched the frost dragons egg. He thought, not for the first time. He had thought this while he was in the wilderness, so lonely that he started talking to himself, but too afraid to go back lest they figure out about what a freak he was. He thought about it when Fraylon was too young to hunt and he had to find food for both of them, and the nights they both would go to bed in a cold cave hungry. He thought of it when he remembered his happy life in Grunde. But most of all, he thought of it when he saw the look in Ralem’s eyes, or the way that Arianna would laugh at or with him. Daemon had never seen her so happy around someone else. If I hadn’t become a Rider, then I would probably have a ring on my finger, he thought vehemently, scratching the parchment faster, We would be in Grunde, together. She would never be alone. I would take care of her. She would get the life she deserves. No more of this pahasuken Ralem, who doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone Arianna. No more of his greedy, good-for-nothing-” A shrill tinkling. He found he had been scrawling all over the page and the ink cup had spilled onto the table. But no dark liquid spilled out of its lid. He looked inside to find it had frozen solid. Frustrated, he grappled up his paper, shoved it in his teacher’s surprised hands, and fast-walked to the door.

                      Turning the knob, he looked back suddenly, an idea shimmering behind his fascinating blue eyes. He turned completely, looking the astounded teacher in the eye, “Say, is there something that can help a dragon turn into a human?”

                        “Yes,” the bald man replied, confused, “But I don’t know anything about it. Only the Master Healer and Lauri know anything about the stuff. Why?”

                          “Oh, nothing,” Daemon smiled. “Just a question,” he walked out, knowing just where he was going. Yes, he was going to Grunde, but instead of his original plans, he was going with her, and pronto.

                             Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Arianna until he smacked into her. They jumped back awkwardly. “Hello, Daemon,” Arianna started out quickly, “Ready to go?”

                             Daemon cursed himself. He didn’t forget these things! “Yes, sorry. I was at History Class.”

                             “What happened to your nose?” Arianna asked abruptly.

                             Daemon cleared his throat, covering his nose with a hand self-consciously. But she gently took his hand away to look at it closer, “Did someone hurt you?”

                             He shrugged away from her, “I fell. Let’s get the horses, okay?”

                             Arianna knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but she let it drop. Men, she thought sarcastically. She knew he was too stubborn to tell her what really happened. But his nose looked horrible. With a break that bad, she knew that his nose would permanently be crooked.