Page 88 of Fire to the Stars
“But your scar,” he says. “How did you get it?”
“I clawed myself during my first Ignition. I tried to use the pain to regain control of my senses,” I confess. Lies are pointless now. “I woke up healed.”
“That’s impossible. Dragon healing power doesn’t leave scars.”
“I wish this scar were another con, too. But it’s true.”
The new knowledge processes behind his eyes, on that handsome furrowed brow. Even without experimenting, I know what he’s theorized: When dragons turn for the first time, they’re still capable of being wounded. Wounds inflicted during that half-formed state will heal as they would for a normal human—with scarring—but with rapid speed.
That theory changes nothing.
Abel runs his hand through his hair. “Is this why you asked if dragons can commit suicide? Is that why you stole my dagger?” He pales. “Did you already try?”
“You said it wouldn’t work,” I whisper.
I can’t admit to him that I wish itwouldwork, but my welling tears must admit it for me. The anguish in his gaze cuts me deeper than his dagger ever could.
“Claire…”
“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry.”
I sit on the edge of my bed, strength draining from me, and cover my face with my hands. Lucy emerges from her hiding spot as if nothing happened and leaps onto the bed, shoving her nose into the space between my arm and my ribs. I clutch her against my chest and tuck my face into her fur.
“At first I meant to distance myself from my feelings for you. I really did,” I insist. “But after spending so much time with you, I couldn’t resist. I wanted as much of you as I could get before I had to die.”
“Maybe you don’t have to,” Abel says, and I hear hope in his voice. “If Lyle can make the right equipment, then maybe—”
“Abel, no! I won’t live the rest of my life running back to a cage every month.”
“I wouldn’tkeepyou locked up, so why not? We know better now. We can take precautions.”
Fighting for my life is hopeless; I don’t want to try anymore. Not when that means it’s a matter of time until I hurt someoneelse.
“You’re suggesting we break the law. The Guild would find you, and after an Ignition or two, they’d most certainly find me. Lyle already knows what I am. He saw the steam when the bolt struck my leg.” Abel flinches, but I press on. “He’s kept it a secret out of respect for you and Micah, but even he won’t let you sabotage your life for another dragon. I won’t either.”
Abel looks longingly through the window, at the snow drifting down to the wet streets below. “I could visit the Étoile Palace and request an audience with King Philippe,” he offers. “A royal decree can force pharmacies to administer increasing doses of sleep powder to dragons. Like a public safety law.”
I close my eyes, tempted to imagine the world he’s painting. A world where succumbing to the Ignition is no more than a health condition to maintain. A world where I could ingest unfathomable amounts of the drug to sleep through the Ignition again and again, never spending a single stolen coin to keep myself from harming anyone.
“You know that won’t work,” I say. “He would never allow it.”
For dragons to be identified, they must have turned and done damage already. There’s too much grief and anger in their wake. King Philippe would be asking civilians to stake their lives on the hope that no dragon fails to take their medication.
Such a law would ask slayers to forfeit their income too.
There’s no practical way to save people like me without a cure, and Abel’s journal proves there isn’t one.
“Forget the rest of them, then. I’ll buy your sleep powder,” he says. “As much as you need.”
“What?” I shake my head. “You’re not listening.”
“The bounty on Gérard’s head is mine. My reputation is improving. I’ll find more work, enough to buy the right doses, no matter the cost.”
“You would spend every cent of your earnings slayingotherdragons to keepmealive?”
“No price is too high if it means you’ll live.”
He must see the madness in his suggestion. A slayer protectinga dragon at the expense of his oath to protect innocent livesfromdragons?
