“Tressa, please,” I said. “I’m here, let me—”
“She’s a halfblooded bastard, the mistake that was never erased,” Tressa spat. “Her mother was a lady’s maid, her father an unknown pureblood. Adara lived in filth as a farmer until her manifestation.”
“But that’s impossible.” He frowned, turned toward me. “Adara?”
My panic told him the truth. He didn’t have a chance to think through what my tainted blood meant. Tressa grabbed his hand.
“She lied to you,” Tressa said. He winced—from her touch or from her words? “You do not want to play the Game, but that is the only way she has survived. She rose from the pigs to the Kyer, and now she hopes to rise higher.”
“No,” I said, “I never meant—”
“She rejected you before.” Triumph shone on Tressa’s face. “Just like Jesimi rejected you. It’s only after inheritance that women want you, and Adara needs you. If she can fool the Duke of Evenspire into marrying her, then her past will never matter. She will be safe.”
Pain and loss filled Shamino’s eyes. And horror—horror that didn’t even touch my own. Duke? Of Evenspire? My heraldry tutor droned in my mind: Evenspire. Tower and three stars. One of the strongest duchies, often intermarries with the royal family. Current duke is Arlin, widower of—
“Princess Cailin,” I whispered. The hallway’s wall struck my back as I staggered. Shamino’s mother—the woman in the portrait—she had been Princess Cailin. Shamino had respected his uncle’s wishes to attend his father’s deathbed because his uncle was King Irian.
I had to leave. Now. Before I fainted. Tressa flung more accusations, and Shamino broke further. His betrayal blurred as the Transportation spell took me away.
*Mettalise!* I cried with my mind. *We’re leaving. Now.*
*What?*
I explained as I ran to my rooms. By the time I was tossing clothing in a pack, Mettalise had finally made sense of my jumbled thoughts.
*Running is not the answer,* she said. *Give him time to sort it out. He knows she’s a Jeweltongue.*
*Jeweltongues don’t create feelings, they amplify them.* I removed a book from my pack and tried lifting it again. Better. *Shamino felt everything I saw on his face. He thinks I’m exactly like his former fiancée—a liar.*
He was right.
Mettalise tried again. *When he calms, you can talk to him. I’ll ask Raul to tell me when the time is right.*
I reached into my wardrobe for the travel boots. Thorkel’s letters tumbled out.
My panic vanished.
A heartbeat, two. Mettalise came into my mind, more upset than when I’d been half-crazed. *Your emotions just snapped like deer bones. What is happening?*
*I’m thinking.* I picked up the directions, smoothed them out. From the other boot, I removed Mother’s letters. A quick glance. Never did they say Merram’s name, nor Krysta’s. The Dragonmaster would have to return when Tressa made her accusations public. If I showed him the letters, it’d be simple for him to deny them.
*Thinking what? I’ve never felt this from you before.*
I put the letters away, but I slipped Thorkel’s directions into my pack before going to Mettalise’s cave. “I’m thinking it’s time. Thorkel promises to tell me the truth.”
Mettalise switched from almost-pouncing to deathly still. *That’s a trap and you know it.*
Rainbows from her crystals danced on her opal scales, rainbows upon rainbows. They filled me with hope. “Tressa won’t rest until I’m back to living in the dirt. There’s nothing for me at the Kyer, or anywhere, as long as I’m just some halfblood. But if I have proof, real proof…”
*You… could be with Shamino?* she guessed.
I gave a sharp, hollow laugh. “The king’s nephew? Even if he forgave me for deceiving him, never. But if I do have a highborn-enough father, I may not end up in a field.”
*And if that father is the Dragonmaster, then the Council of Elder Dragons will demand that you stay at the Kyer.* Mettalise nodded gravely. *Not even Dragonsridge will protest if all the dragons make a claim on you.*
“Exactly.” I tapped the pocket with the letters. “So I need proof.”
Suddenly Mettalise burst back into her wiggly self. *After you get your proof, you can kill Thorkel! That will make everyone happy. Surely King Irian will accept a war hero as a niece.*
I laughed, this time for real. Leave it to a dragon to simplify things.
Mettalise dangled her harness at me, giddy. It took only minutes to strap it on her, we’d practiced so much, and yet another minute to become airborne.
No one questioned us as we left the Kyer. All the new Dragon Mages went flying frequently, practicing. Still, Mettalise went to the clouds as soon as possible, flying high, freezing me half to death. Occasionally we dipped low to check the landmarks outlined in Thorkel’s directions.
Half a day after leaving, at twilight, Mettalise’s wingbeats slowed. *Look. Refugees.*
*This far from the fighting?* I rubbed my arms and legs to not-numb as she banked to get closer for my weak human eyesight. Finally, I spotted a cluster of tents in a valley. *Do you think it’s Stoneyfield? Orrik told me that Merram had evacuated them.*
We flew closer. She took care to hide herself with a mountain or tall tree—dragons trained for concealment from a young age, out of concern for the puny humans they terrified. She landed on a cliff.
The County of Tworivers banner flapped on the outskirts of the camp.
“Merram did evacuate them,” I murmured. As the sun set, figures brought in laundry, tended fires. “I suspect he gave them the tents, too. Maybe food.”
This close to the Kyer, nestled in the mountains, the war would have to become dire to threaten them again. Had Merram always been this kind of person? Or had Krysta’s letters changed him?
*I don’t understand why Merram avoids seeing you when he cares about your life so much. It must be a human thing.* Mettalise’s voice came lightly in the midst of my thickening emotion. *Shall we say hello? You could stay with your foster mother tonight… Lily?*
Longing and fear clashed in my heart. I missed
