Page 5 of Firebird
“Stop worrying, Lela. Go and pack. Jardani will want to leave tonight.”
Trembling from the performance, I stormed off before Lela could scold me further. The crowd still buzzed. Yoska and Rukeli played on. Jardani ushered them over for ale and watered-down wine. A few extra coins before the villagers wandered home.
Lela was right. I’d never displayed myself quite so provocatively. Why would I do it for him? I hated Romans. Hated their superiority. Their conquering and burning of the whole world, simply because they could. Because no one could defeat dragons.
Perhaps that was why. I wanted to flaunt my fearlessness in front of him. Show him I was not afraid, no matter what beast stared back at me, but my inner witch whispered,no, that’s not the reason.
Cutting through two wagons and behind the horse pen—the foul-tempered gelding chuffed and whickered at me—I rounded another wagon and peeked from behind. Jardani’s makeshift tavern, nothingmore than a weathered canvas top and two casks propped on stools, lured the audience in well enough. Yoska and Rukeli played a lively tune, while Hanzi served drinks and collected more coin.
Slipping past and clutching the centurion’s coin in my palm, I grabbed a torch and ran along the path into the woods toward our encampment. But rather than go directly to our tent, I cut into the little meadow where we let the horses graze during the day, so I could observe my coin without my sisters fussing or asking questions.
Stepping into the open under the bright moonlight, I raised my palm and the torch so I could get a better look.
“Bendis above,” I whispered.
It was gold. Or at least it looked like gold. I’d never actually held the precious metal in my hands. One side depicted a temple, the edges soft and well-worn. The other was a woman, a goddess sitting on a throne, an upside-down crescent over her head, a cornucopia held in both hands.
“She is Lady Fortuna.”
I froze. The voice was a deep, melodious rumble, like thunder over the mountain. Like danger in the distance, drawing ever closer.
Stars save me. It could only be one man.
Spinning, I stared a mere few feet away at marble-like features cut into slashes of shadow by the moonlight. The centurion. And the dragon.
I glanced to the right, preparing to flee, wondering if I could actually outrun him. Panic gripped me. I certainly wasn’t fearless now.
“No, wait.” He held up both palms in a disarming fashion, then took a step backward. “I won’t harm you.”
But it was impossible for a man of his height and breadth and birth to appear harmless. He was a noble-born Roman with ancient magic—and a monster—firing through his blood.
My pulse raced, and I realized we were alone. If he wanted to hurt me, he could quite easily do so before anyone would come and help me.Ifthey could help me.
Still holding his palms out in a placating manner, he nodded to my hand where I still held the coin. “That aureus is special.”
Itwasgold. My arm holding the torch shook, a flame gusting as I exhaled a trembling breath.
I was terrified, but I lifted my chin with all the confidence I could muster, realizing he must’ve given me the coin for nefarious reasons.
“Why would you give me a piece of gold?” I snapped, though my voice quivered.
Everything about him screamed for me to run. Except my empathic sense, which was still annoyingly quiet as a calm sea. My witch told me to keep still. So I did.
“You’re a gifted dancer,” he stated with calm and poise, lowering his arms to clasp his hands behind his back, still trying to appear harmless. It did ease my panic a little, though my body remained ready for flight.
“I’m the best of my sisters,” I finally replied, using bravado to cover my quaking fear.
He smiled. My gaze automatically dropped to his mouth. That’s where I realized what gave him some semblance of softness. Where his jaw, chin, nose, and brow were all sharp angles, his wide mouth seemed soft.
“You are,” he agreed. “I witnessed the proof of it just now.”
“Why would you give me a gold coin for a dance?” I snapped again, my fear morphing into ire. “You will not get anything else for it.”
Still poised, even at my assumption, possibly an insult, that he’d been trying to buy something else from me that I wasn’t prepared to part with, he replied steadily, “I do not want anything else.”
A cloud billowed above us across the moon, the shadows hiding his face. Even so, his dragon eyes glowed in the dark. It reminded me of the wolves back home in the Carpathian Mountains, when the winter grew harsh and they came looking for easy prey around our village. Strangely, this Roman didn’t incite fear in me with his gleaming dragon eyes.
I stepped forward and raised my torch so that I could see his face more clearly. He remained unnaturally still. I knew he was trying to assuage my fear. We both knew that if he wanted to harm me, he could. Only noble-born Romans with the blood of the dragon coursing through their veins could be centurions.
