Page 112 of Firebird
“Do you swear to tell no one where you obtained the dragon skin, if asked?”
“I swear.” I pressed the emotions of trust and compassion into the bond.
She gasped and let go of my hands, staring wide-eyed. “You are a sister of the spirit world.”
I didn’t know what that meant exactly, only that she recognized I had a goddess-given gift.
I nodded. “I am.”
She snapped her fingers. “Come.” Then she turned and walked back through the curtain.
Rhea grinned, then we both followed. Behind the curtain was a short hallway with two rooms and a kitchen, her living quarters. She stalked quickly into the room at the end. By the time we got there, she was swiveling a bookshelf back into place, having removed something from a hidden space behind it.
“Here, this is what you need.”
She handed me a folded cloth and hurried to a table where she opened a drawer. But it wasn’t simply cloth. It was a square of the hide of a gray dragon.
“Who is it from?”
“A gladiator. His name was Livius.”
She clattered things in her drawer while looking for something.
“He had never been defeated in over one hundred battles. He was beloved by all of Rome, patricians, plebs, and slaves alike. Then the emperor Igniculus demanded he execute a Vicus dragon, a priestess who had broken her vows of chastity. He was to slay both her and her lover as the finale of a day of games last year.”
She picked up something.
“Ah, here it is.”
She returned to stand before me, her expression grave.
“He refused to execute either of them and so Igniculus had his praetorians shift into dragon form and kill Livius instead. They lifted his body and dropped him in the Tiber like he was nothing but scum. Trash to be thrown away.” She scoffed in disgust.
“I remember that day,” said Rhea softly, sadly. “It was the one day there was no applause at the closing of the games.”
“True, true,” said Euphemia. “But the emperor got his point across clear enough. His orders are to be obeyed at all times.” She opened my other hand and placed a small dagger in it. “Livius washed up on shore downriver. With Proserpina’s blessing, I took some of his skin for only the most sacred bargains with the gods. Then my friends and I burned him in a pyre, with all the rites of the dead that he deserved.”
“What is the dagger for?”
Euphemia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You do not know how to properly ask the gods for help, I see. You must carve your request into the dragon skin, then you must seal it with a sacrifice. Blood of an animal. A goat is best. Here, you’ll need to burn this candle afterward.” She pulled a thick-stumped candle from a shelf and shoved it into my hand.
“Thank you,” I told her. “I can’t thank you enough. I don’t have any denarii now, but I can get some and bring it back.”
“No, no. I do not sell the sacred skin. It is given to those in need, and I decide who is most in need. The gods and I do.”
“The gods tell you I am worthy.”
“Of course. You have their magic.” She winked. “Now you’d best get gone before Doro comes barreling into my home and tearing the place apart with his giant behemoth body.”
Rhea giggled and led us back out through the curtain and into the main room. Doro was indeed peeking in from the steps outside, frowning until he saw us reappear. Rhea rushed and whispered something to him while I turned to Euphemia.
I couldn’t help myself as I pulled her into an embrace. She stiffened and patted my back awkwardly. She smelled of willow bark tea and incense.
“Thank you again. Not just for this, but for what you did for Livius.”
Euphemia was obviously not a dragon, and yet she’d shown the gladiator respect in death when his own people had not.
“There, there, child.” She pushed out of my arms and smiled. “You go now and make that bargain with Minerva.” She winked. “If any goddess can bring justice, it is our goddess of war.”
