When she opened her eyes, the stars were winking into view and the moon was cresting the horizon. The terrain below was shadowed and unfamiliar. Dragon flight was ridiculously faster than any horse, and they'd been flying for hours. Were they even in the same kingdom anymore?
Flying, she thought in amazement. She was actually flying. If she wasn't going to be eaten she might actually be enjoying it.
Then a note in their travel changed. The dragon's wing beats slowed and the wind dropped; they were landing. The dark earth swooped up to meet her. Alannah pressed her eyes closed and braced for impact.
It didn't come. The talons loosened and she dropped two feet to the ground in a sprawl of white satin. How undignified. "Thank you for that," she muttered.
She scrambled to her feet and brushed herself off. Her ridiculous dress was stained black with mud and her dark hair was a tangled mess. She straightened her shoulders and turned to regard the dragon. It turned so it was looking at her side-on, its visible eye narrowed. There was a single, thin pupil in it, splitting the orb in two.
They lied to me.
She jumped. That voice had been inside her head. They stood on a low cliff which sloped into a dark cave, like an eyrie. It was deserted. Except for the dragon. She eyed it warily. "Was that â that wasn't you," she said, feeling foolish. "... Was it?"
The dragon snorted. Who else did you think it was? The voice was deep, gravelly. Male?
"No one told me dragons were telepathic," she said.
They lied to me, it said, again.
A dragon was speaking to her. Alannah shook her head and wondered if she'd live to tell anyone about it. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Who lied?"
Your villagers, he - it - said. It was distressingly easy to think of the creature as a person. It lowered its head and inhaled. The satin of her skirt rustled. Its nostrils flared, easily as big as her hands. You're not a princess.
"Hey, keep your nose to yourself."
And unless I'm mistaken, you're not a maid, either.
"That is none of your damn business," she hissed.
Why did they think you would be a suitable sacrifice?
The dragon was watching her, and she got the impression again that it was amused. It was toying with her. Well, two could play at that game. Alannah shook out her voluminous skirts and straightened the floofy bits on her arms. "Well," she said, "you didn't exactly give us much option." It didn't matter how she felt about her village, no one else got to talk them down. "In case you hadn't noticed, my village isn't exactly rolling in princesses."
Or maids, I take it?
"Are you going to eat me or what? If not, you can just take me home," she added, quickly. "Or at least point me in the right direction."
The village is days away by foot.
Alannah sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
The dragon reared back and spread its wings. A familiar shiver ran over her skin. She'd recognise that feeling anywhere: magic.
The dragon's figure wavered, then shrank. Its scales paled and turned to smooth skin. Its wings and tail disappeared and its horns shrank to the size of a ram's. Before her eyes, the dragon transformed into the figure of a young man.
Alannah gaped. "What â How did you do that?"
His thin lips curled in a smirk. "Magic," he purred. "A transformation spell."
His hair was lighter than his scales had been, but not by much. His face was drawn in strong, sharp lines, although his body had light muscle under pale skin. And â oh. She averted her eyes. Scales apparently didn't convert to clothing. Something dark on his neck caught her eye. Thin runes scrawled down the side of his throat and over his shoulder. The same line of script was reflected on the other side of his torso. "You're not very good at it, are you?" she asked, smirking.
The dragon blinked. "What?"
She nodded at the runes. "Only incompetent warlocks leave traces like that."
His eyes narrowed. "You're a witch."
Alannah grinned. The dragon was absurdly good-looking in this form, but it was much easier not to fear him. He'd find it hard to cremate her without that fire breath. "I dabble," she said, modestly.
"You're the first witch anyone's ever sent me."
"Lucky me." Alannah stepped up to the edge of the cliff. Paths wound down the stone like the tracks of snails. At the base of the plateau was a dark, thick forest, and beyond that she could make out the shadowed shapes of mountains against the stars. Nothing familiar. "Are we still in Thraena?"
"We're about three days travel from your village. A matter of hours as the dragon flies."
Brilliant. And she was going to get home, how? "Why exactly did you bring me here?"
He spread his hands. "Welcome to my home."
She quirked an eyebrow. Apart from the thin, grassy plateau on which they stood, the inside of the cave was littered with broken rock and what looked like the bleached bones of many small animals. Nothing big enough to be human, thankfully, but the place was still filthy. "Nice. Really. I'm impressed."
His expression twitched. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour."
"And the highest form of wit."
The dragon stared at her. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" he asked, tilting those spiralled horns.
She eyed him, barefoot, naked and with the lines of a poorly cast spell written across his body. "Should I be?"
"Most humans are," he added, with a quirk of his mouth. It could have been wry, but there was something about it that looked almost... sad.
He was still standing far too close to comfort. She stepped away from the cave wall, moving out so there was space at her back. "Exactly how many people have you brought back here?" she asked, suspiciously.
He grinned, just this side of sleazy. Her pulse jumped in response and she scowled. "Not nearly enough."
"I thought most dragons were interested in gold," she pointed out. "Or gems, or treasure or something."
He shrugged. "My taste has always run towards more... entertaining pursuits," he said, with a leer.
"And you can't find that kind of entertainment among your own species?" she asked and wondered if any hybrids had been born to these princesses. That would be an awkward conversation for the future king.
"Humans are more interesting. Most kingdoms tend to give up their princess quite easily."
"So that's what you were doing in our village?" She snorted. "You could've pricked a better town. In case you hadn't noticed, princesses are pretty rare in villages with one hundred people or less."
"Actually, I was on my way to your capital. But I got hungry." He ran his tongue over sharp, plentiful teeth, somehow managing to look both dangerous and devastatingly handsome at the same time. If it wasn't for the fact that he was a dragon and she had actual principles about who she spent her nights with, she'd be sorely tempted to linger here. The fact that she was sorely tempted in spite of those two things was yet another reason why she should get out of here as quickly as possible. "Your villagers panicked. They promised me a princess if I agreed to leave, so I did." He frowned, then. "Do you have any princesses?"
"No," she replied, and moved again so that she was a little closer to the edge.
"But I assume that there are other young women in your village."
"Of course there are." She stopped slowly shifting towards the path and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? You're not planning on going back, are you? Because we may not have princesses, but we have knights. A whole army of them." He raised one brow. "All right, one, but he's the bravest, noblest knight in the entire kingdom."
"Relax," he said, amused. "I'm not going back to your village. I doubt they have many sheep left, anyway."
She released a slow breath. If he wasn't going back then she didn't have much chance of getting a lift. She'd have to find her own way back.