Page 122 of Firebird
“Time to go, I know.”
He kept very still while I managed to climb upon his clawed paw, slipping a little on his bloody scales, until I was finally atop, near the base of his neck, farther away from the spikes that lined his spine. I had nothing to tie myself to him this time, so I gripped the coarse hair that grew down the column of his neck.
“I’m ready,” I murmured low, but somehow he heard me.
He beat his wings softly, swirling the fire and smoke that had engulfed Ciprian’s home into a maelstrom, orange embers floating higher. Julian lifted off gently into the air, taking care not to jostle me, and circled over the conflagration he’d made. The flames lickedand hopped through the boughs of trees to the next house, where the neighbors ran out onto the cobblestone street.
They looked up and pointed. It seemed as if this was a dragon’s way of gloating, circling his destruction, making sure everyone knew it was his. Staring down, I could see dots of people all along Palatine Hill, some running toward the fire to see what had happened and some running away.
Of those running away, I noticed two figures—a slim one with blond hair holding the hand of a larger man—Rhea and Doro. I smiled as I watched them turn a corner toward the Aventine.
As Julian made a wider circle, drifting farther away from the firelight, something caught my eye. A pull on my tether drew me to the faint outline of a transparent figure towering high as a mountain, looking down into the flames. My breath caught as she spread her nearly invisible dragon wings wide, gilded by the inferno’s glow. Then she looked at me, her eyes nothing but lavender starlight and wonder. And she smiled.
Julian lifted higher into the night sky so that I had to twist around to look back. But the goddess Minerva was gone. Nothing but flames burning along the Palatine hillside of Rome and stars twinkling in the clear night sky.
Every person on the streets of Rome stopped where they were and looked up, watching us fly away. I wondered if they could see the naked woman flying atop the red dragon. I laughed, for I could hear my sister Lela saying to me now,you’re so reckless.
I didn’t feel reckless though. I felt mighty and strong… and free.
My red dragon roared up into the night, certainly proud of the destruction and death he’d left behind, before he turned away from Rome and flew west, the moonlight guiding our way.
XXXVII
JULIAN
She’d been sleeping for hours. I’d tended the cut Ciprian had made high at the base of her spine. He hadn’t cut deep. Just deep enough to hurt and torment her.
I sighed with contentment yet again that he was dead by my hand and pulled Malina tighter into my arms. It was near morning, but I refused to wake her. We were safe here, far from Rome, in one of Trajan’s many homes to the north.
We still had a long way to go across water to reach what would beour new home for a while. I’d have to send word to Trajan through his grandfather in Vulsinii to be sure all was safe for him.
If I knew anything about Trajan, he’d have slain that praetorian who fled my home last night. But I wasn’t sure if he’d been seen and then had to go into hiding himself. I knew that Trajan would find a way to get Ruskus and the others to safety, to his secret property where he knew I’d take Malina.
I’d certainly ruined our plot to kill my uncle. But by my soul, we’d find another way.
My uncle had had my mother and father killed, and the rest of the house as well so there would be no witnesses. Kara had only survived because she had been delivering the babe of another patrician. How had I never come to the conclusion that he’d killed my family?
Once, in the beginning of my uncle’s reign, I had suspected. But then my uncle showered me with what I knew now was false sympathy and another promotion in his army. He was on the rise, and I was foolish enough to be proud of my relation to him. However, that was short-lived. His laws and decrees took root, and I’d wrestled with my conflicting emotions until I decided my uncle must be killed. But I still hadn’t imagined that he’d killed his own brother.
Perhaps it was because Igniculus had never shown any animosity toward my father, only a mild disappointment at his choices in life. My uncle only seemed to strike when his temper ran hot. But he was clever around me. Whatever hatred he held for my father, he never showed it to me.
That was because he would’ve lost my favor.
“You never had it,” I whispered to the open window where the temperate night and cool, salty breeze wafted in.
“Who never had what?”
I rolled to my side so I could look at her. Her eyes were drowsy, her smile tender.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Wonderful.” She stretched her naked body, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“Did he hurt you… other than here”—I slid my fingertips beneath her cheek where it was swollen and red—“and the cut here?” I then grazed my hand up her bare spine just beneath the cut on her back.
“No.” She continued to smile.
“Why are you so happy? I allowed you to be taken away and harmed.”
