Page 106 of Firebird
“Just tired.” My body was weak from the energy I’d used on Ciprian. I hadn’t been this exhausted from using my magic since I’d been with the Celts, tethering to the Roman soldiers in Legatus Bastius’s legion.
Cook had given Ciprian the draught while we cleaned, but I’d held on to my tether to him, still worried he’d somehow recover and come after me and Rhea again. It had entirely drained me.
“Come,” said Rhea, helping me to my feet. “It’s time for bed.”
I didn’t argue as she dumped our rags in the bucket and carried it with us back to our quarters. We washed in her bedchamber, the one I was meant to share with her since there were no other available ones.
Wearied, I climbed into her small bed next to her, pulling the covers under my chin as I lay on my side, watching the open doorway. There were no doors on the servants’ bedchambers. Apparently, Ciprian didn’t think slaves needed privacy so he refused to give them doors. One more indignation.
Rhea faced the other way but her body heat warmed me. It was a small comfort in this desolate place.
“Does he ever seek you out in the daytime?” I asked, afraid he might come back in the morning.
“No,” she answered sleepily, as if it was of no consequence. “He is busy with his new soldiers and officers all day now. He is preparing for his first campaign, whenever the emperor tells him where he is to go.”
I exhaled a small sigh of relief, finally letting go of the tether I’d kept around Ciprian’s dark soul. A well of release washed through me at being free of him. I fell instantly into a deep sleep.
That night, I fell into a vivid dream. A nightmare.
I flew through the night sky, my arms spread wide, a flowing white gown billowing at my ankles. Then a terrifying roar startled me, causing me to spin midair. It was Ciprian in dragon form, black scales shining beneath the moonlight. His red eyes glowed and he snapped his jaws as he barreled closer. I floated and waited for him.
When he opened his jaws to eat me, I wrapped my arms around his snout, and my tether—a tangible golden rope—burst from my chest and coiled around his legs and wings, binding him tight. I stared into one of his gleaming red eyes and whispered, “Fire.”
Then we were diving down, the stars falling with us, streaming like burning souls toward the earth. Before we hit the ground, I burst into flames, and I heard Julian screaming my name.
XXXI
JULIAN
Gaius’s home in Vulsinii stood on a small cliff overlooking a vast lake, which now glistened under the moonlight. This home had been in his family for over a century.
Standing on the terrace with all of our allies, I barely listened as I stared at the marble statue of the first Roman dragons cradled beneath the wing of their adoptive mother, an ancient dragon. It was set in the inverted curve of a wall, a fountain cascading around them, turquoise tiles lining the rim.
History never tells us what happened to the dragons of old, the oneswho were only beasts without the gift of transformation. They simply disappeared into obscurity when dragon skin-shifters began to populate and rule the world. I wondered if the first Romans killed them off, not wanting any competition for dominance over the land. It wouldn’t surprise me.
“Yes, it’s a risk we all take. If you did not think there was a possibility that this all might end with your deaths, then why are you even here?” Gaius snapped at Appius, an older, dignified senator of the Sapphirus line. He also happened to be Gaius’s cousin.
“I am well aware of the risk of death,” Appius stated in a deep-barreled voice, the kind I imagined he used on the senate house floor. “I merely want to debate if the risk is worth it. Will we all die for naught? Or do we have a plan put forth that is most likely to succeed?”
A round of bickering hummed through the dozen men gathered on the terrace. Trajan leaned against a gold-painted column with his arms crossed, scowling.
The men gathered were a mixed lot of senators and soldiers. Men we collected into our fold over careful scrutiny and time, and whose quiet but obvious disdain for the emperor and his regime had been personally witnessed by Gaius, Trajan, or myself. They were cautiously amassed. Some of their hatred for Caesar stemmed from his laws stifling their own climb to power and to better fortune. A few joined us out of fear of the violent world Caesar was creating and that it could get worse. And there were a few who also longed for a just, fair, and prosperous Rome without the brutality Caesar embodied.
I stepped forward and raised my hand, knowing all the motivations in the hearts of these men. Almost at once, there was silence. I lowered my hand and paused before I spoke.
“The gods gifted us with our power to transform into a creature who could reign over earth and sky. And what have we done with that gift?”
I stared at each of the very powerful men standing before me.
“We’ve burned and pillaged and conquered. We’ve enslaved and killed and gorged ourselves on the misery of others, of those too helpless to defend themselves against the strength of dragons.”
The silence thickened with the weight of my words.
“With the might of our power, we have become more monster than man. We have glutted ourselves on greed and blood. And the time to change who we have become isnow,” I bellowed, the last word echoing into the night.
“You all may think my uncle cannot delve deeper into depravity or that he cannot sink Rome into a pit as dark as Tartarus itself, but you are mistaken,” I practically whispered, emotion choking my voice. “Igniculus is no god. Nor is he gifted by them. He iscursed. A twisted, malformed creature who drags our people deeper into the hell he has created.”
I felt my own dragon waking and shining behind my eyes.
