Page 79 of Fire to the Stars

The dragon lies beside me, too weak to move.Micah.Micah is hungry. I need to feed him. A deer. No, a fawna. I can’t rest yet. I need to hunt a fawna and bring it here to Micah. He needs his energy, and we both could use a little luck.

“Don’t sleep,” a distant voice says.

“Stay with us,” says the other.

Sky and trees. A carriage ceiling. Murmurs from a bustling crowd. Gray walls and a bright lamp above my face. White-uniformed figures that lean over me.

I try to move. Hands hold me down. A wet cloth covers my mouth. A flicker of clarity accompanies a sharp, sweet smell.

Micah.

My mind tumbles backward—to Micah chained to the cavern walls. Micah’s dragon body, unmoving. The fawna I hunted that bright morning heavy on my shoulders. Fresh blood, slick down my back.

“Micah?” I say. He doesn’t react. I drop the fawna in front of him. Sit on the cavern floor beside him. Wait.

Wait.

Wait for a breath that never comes.

We would like to borrow the bones before you allocate them to an outfitter. Her Majesty the queen has a splendid idea for a display.

—Dove message to Marshal Irvin Bard from His Majesty King Philippe, regarding the slaying of Gérard Dupont, November23, 1760 AA

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Claire

I sit at Abel’s bedside in the hospital, head bowed, my hands restless. Lucy snores in my lap, exhausted. Abel’s olive skin has paled, and his sweaty hair is flattened from six long hours in bed, unconscious. Sweat rolls down my own cheek. Tears threaten to invade my eyes. But not because he’s hurt. Because Lyle stands over me, reading Abel’s journal front to back.

All because he witnessed steam rising from the wound to myleg.

“You can’t tell him about me,” I whisper. “Please.”

Lyle points to the entry about medications with a shaky finger, the one that proves Micah built resistance over time. “This is why you didn’t turn yesterday?” he asks. “By overdosing medication?”

I nod. “Sleep powder.”

“You woke dangerously close to the end of the eclipse. Minutes earlier and you would’ve turned.”

“Check the last page.”

He flips to the back. “Oh. He charted the rate of medication resistance.”

I bite my lip to prevent myself from crying. Hours after midnight, I calculated the amount I should ingest based on that chart. It wastorturesitting in a fire cellar with strangers while I waited to drug myself. I still hadn’t meant to wake up so early. I’ve only ever used the powder once per month, but since my first Ignition, that’s seven times. Its effectiveness on my body is starting to wane.

“Gods, I don’t know what to say.” He rubs his mouth, eyes roving over the bloodstains on the pages. “The things he did…”

“They’re horrible. Borderline similar to the cruelty of the Immortals.”

“True. But if it had been Ma who turned, I can’t say I wouldn’t have tried to gain control of her magic and save her, too.” His smile is strained. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

“Yes. ‘All dragons must die,’ as your motto goes.”

He grimaces. “Maybe the forge has been sheltering me from the hard decisions slayers have to make. But at the end of the day, I love Ma more than I fear dragons. I trust Abel felt the same way about Micah.”

The rip in my skirt draws Lyle’s stare. I shift Lucy on my lap, as if that can hide the perfectly healed skin beneath.

“You know, every time Abel grumbled about Estellio luck throughout his life, I shouldn’t have laughed,” he admits. “Micah was cursed. Hanna was murdered. Now the next object of his affection is knocking on death’s door. He truly has the world’s worst luck.”