41.

His hand instantly went to the mark on her shoulder. She didn't move. It was disconcerting to have him touch her skin in that way. But then he jerked away, moving back, his jaw tight and glare fierce.

"You're with them," he snapped. "You're working for them."

The hatred in his voice when he said those things made her stiffen. "How could that even begin to be true after what happened today?"

"I don't know how," he snapped. "But nothing is ever as it seems. Maybe this was all an elaborate front."

Lotte pressed her hand to her chest, feeling indignant. "I have this mark because you gave it to me. When you saved me from the Rugar, I was dying."

"I didn't give you anything. They locked away my right wing the day they cursed me."

Lotte rose to her feet. "Then somehow your wing escaped," she said, stepping towards him. "It somehow escaped and came to me. It looked like a small dragon and we called it Fintan. But when I slept and dreamt, it was you, but a slightly different you. But all this time, it was your wing." She took another step until she was staring into his face. "If you take it back, you won't be cursed anymore."

He was startled by her words. She could see him wavering in his conviction to suspect her. "Didn't you just say that it's keeping you alive?"

She cast her gaze down. "I don't want to die," she said. "But I'm not going to take someone else's life just to keep my own. I'd give it back to you myself, but I don't know how. So, please, take it back and set things right."

He was silent for such a long moment, she had to look up again. He was frowning, eyes fixed on her shoulder, hand hovering in the air above it.

He touched the side of her neck instead. "I remember feeling angry, surprised and suspicious of you," he said. "And I remember kissing you. And that's all I could think of since meeting you."

"When I met you before, I mean, the other you, you knew everything," she said. "You said that you have high hopes when it comes to me. Maybe this is it?"

"Then answer me this, Lotte," he said. "If my right wing ran away, why didn't it come right back to me?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but there was nothing she could say. He didn't expect her to answer anyway. He leaned towards her, locking his lips to hers.

Of course, there was still so much to talk about, but somehow this was more pressing. Not just for him. She was alone in a strange land, surrounded by enemies. She didn't doubt today's success of saving Poe could only be a precursor to failure.

There was something comforting about the way Fintan desired her.
He drew her nearer, against his bare chest. There was a brief moment when her shoulder touched his.
And then pain exploded down her arm. She was suddenly back in the room where they locked her, fighting against her bonds as a scream ripped itself from her throat.

It felt like a thousand little knives stabbing into her arm all at once. She writhed, her body twisting, trying to escape the pain in any way she could. Though it was night and dark in the room, the red glow of her eyes was not the only illumination. Through the fabric of her blouse, her arm was alight.

With a loud bang, the door behind her was opened and several virata stormed in, Monthes among them. "What is the meaning of this?"

Lotte couldn't answer, her teeth were clenched too tightly to hold back yet another scream. Her head lolled, sweat trickling down her back.

"What is this? What are you doing?" Monthes demanded.

The agonising pain turned from stabs, to throbbing and then suddenly it burned with a vengeance. It surged through her, making her whimper.

And then, it stopped.

She blinked up at the virata who stood over her, her ears ringing with sudden silence, her head finally clear. Monthes was standing close to her, face twisted with annoyance.
Her right hand ripped itself from the binds and grabbed at his throat, sharp nails digging into his skin.

"Take me to Fintan," she hissed.

He spluttered, grabbing for her while the men with him drew their swords.

"I've killed a hundred of your kind today, what's one more death?"

Monthes face was draining of colour, turning whiter and whiter by the second. His eyes danced in his face. He was probably wondering how a girl like Lotte could be this strong.

Lotte didn't know anything about sorcery. It was more direct than enchantments, and more versatile than natural elven magic. She didn't know whether the Sky Dragon wing inside her body was a source of sorcery, but it was certainly powerful.

And the only power she knew was Leilan force.

She flung Monthes back, against two of his men who had to drop their swords to catch him. In the time this happened, she ripped off the bonds from her left hand.
One of the virata came from the right, lunging at her with his sword. Her magicked arm deflected the attacker's wrist with such force, he dropped his weapon, crying out in pain.

She managed to rip out the leather bond holding her right foot in place. Someone grabbed her by the hair, and she grabbed back with her right hand, and squeezed.

A scream of agony, her hair was free and soon, so was her last limb. She sprung to her feet. Monthes was just getting to his own. Someone approached from behind. Lotte's right elbow shot back.

"I don't know how she's doing this, but avoid her right side!" Monthes cried. "Remember, we need her alive."

More virata rushed into the room as Monthes gestured with his hands, five long grey snakes erupting from his fingers, slithering like ropes towards Lotte. She backed away from them, until she met a wall.
The snakes coiled round her ankles, up her body. She ripped one off with her right hand. It broke into pieces and then reformed. Monthes crossed his arms and watched with a bemused expression.

"What's your game, half breed?" he asked.

"I know where the right wing is," Lotte cried, pulling snake after snake off her body. This spell had to have an end. Maybe if she exhausted it enough, these things would stop reforming.

The smugness was wiped off Monthes' face. "You know where it is?"

"Take me to Fintan and I'll tell you where to find it," she said.

Monthes laughed. Lotte's gaze shot to the door. There was no getting past all those virata. The only window in the room was boarded up.

She was out of tricks and out of luck.

Lotte spat into her left hand.

They hadn't cleaned her before tying her up. Her hand was coated with Poe's dry blood and the red dust of her own crushed tears.

"What're you doing now?" Monthes asked. He clearly thought he had the upper hand, and now he was only humouring her. "You're in no position to bargain, half-breed, so I suggest you stop what you're doing. I took Vanshu right from under the Talmil's nose, do you think I can't find him again? Or your human servant and that elven boy? Do you think we can't find them? So many options with you. So many people you love. And you know where the stolen wing is? How convenient. You will tell me everything once we perform your treatment."

All the time he spoke, Lotte mixed and mixed the mess in her left palm with her right finger. If muddy rainwater painted with a twig on a leaf could make enchantments, then this could work too.

The snakes pinned her elbows to her body. She had nothing to draw on, nothing to enchant. The only thing she could reach was the air before her own nose.

So that was what she enchanted, the very air around her. She drew a circle and gave it spikes, put some fire in its heart and arrows pointing outward. It glowed in the air before her face.

"What is that? Stop!" Monthes cried, the snakes squeezed her body ever harder. The virata men surrounding her hovered uncertainly, watching the glowing projection of her enchantment.

BOOM.

The air in the room exploded outward from the point of the enchantment, sending all the virata to the ground, forcing them to stay down. The snakes holding her captive shattered and she began to run, leaping over the fallen virata who were, even at this moment, pressed to the floor by the force of the enchanted air.

She sped down the corridor, knocking past servants. She turned right, only to come face to face with more virata soldiers.

They eyed her for a moment in shock. She turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction.
She heard their voices echoing as she turned the next corner. This part of the palace looked familiar, but then, everything here looked the same. Wide, airy marble corridors, spiralling staircases leading to towers. How was she to find her way to Fintan? She couldn't just appear at his side like she did when she was asleep.

The fingers of her right hand curled into a fist. She had a part of the Sky Dragon inside her own body and it folded and stretched.

Shouts rang behind her, along with the sound of running feet. She thought she could hear Monthes voice. Of course, an enchantment made on air wouldn't hold very long.

She had no magic key. Only her two legs that were doubtlessly no match for the speed of virata. She took turns at random. How good would they be at tracking her scent? She desperately wished she knew more about sorcery.

"There she is!" someone cried.

Lotte turned towards another corridor, but she was no match for their speed. She looked over her shoulder in time to see one of the virata behind her handling something that looked like a whip made out of a bolt of lighting.

He swung it towards her and fell short by less than an inch. He lifted his arm to swing again.

A gold door beside Lotte burst open and a hand pulled her in.

She fell against Fintan as he grabbed her by the waist to steady her. "I felt you coming," he said breathlessly, eyes gleaming with excitement. "I knew you'd get here and suddenly the door was unlocked and—"

The door burst open, Lotte's pursuers poured in. Fintan yanked her back, his arms protectively around her. They moved to the back of the room, to the unlit dinning area where Lotte's painting hung in its place of honour on the wall behind the dragon king's chair.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fintan barked. "Lotte is my guest."

Lady Briaad pushed to the front of the group. "Your majesty, that girl is dangerous. You saw what she did."

Fintan did not remove his arms from Lotte. "You're saying this half-breed girl is more dangerous than the Dragon King?"

"Oh no, your majesty, I would never suggest—"

"Then pray tell me why I shouldn't have what I want?" he demanded. "She is my guest, she consented to come to me. What is all this madness? Get out of my face. I want to be alone with her."

"Your majesty, this is for your own safety," Lady Briaad took another step towards them. "She killed dozens of people in the prison and even injured Lord Monthes. My king, please—"

"Do you think I don't know why she needed to go to the prison in the first place?" Fintan yelled, pulling Lotte further back, until they were very nearly leaning against her painting. "If I'm your king, then heed my command and back down now, Briaad."

Lady Briaad took another step forward, an unnerving smile on her face. She clicked her tongue. "We can't have you being so unruly, your majesty," she said in a melodic voice. "Look what a scene you are making before your men?"

Fintan was shaking, and Lotte couldn't understand why. But there was something about Briaad, something happening behind the scenes, inside his mind. When he didn't answer, and his arms suddenly became lax, she turned to look up at him. She saw violet lighting forking through the whites of his eyes. He shut them and shook his head from side to side as if trying to clear his thoughts.

"Don't let her do this," Lotte said, giving him a slight push. "Fight it, Blue."

At the mention of that name, his eyes focused on her, but she could tell her was forgetting things, or maybe he already forgot?

"Your majesty, that girl is dangerous," Briaad said calmly. "Remember what she did today? She even injured Lord Monthes."

"Blue, it's me," Lotte cried. "You have to remember."

"Blue," he said, swaying as if drunk, his arms falling limply to his sides. "Nobody calls me that anymore." His words slurred.

"You told me your sister used to call you that," Lotte said. "Your sister she was...Sia, right?"

Fintan moved back and made to lean against the wall, but Lotte's painting, "Half", of the girl looking over her shoulder was directly behind him.

He stumbled and fell backwards.

Vanishing into the painting.

Lotte stared and stared in shock. The painting remained the same as before, not a ripple or a tear, or a little virata prince running about the vibrant, chaotic world inside the girl's heart.

Lotte spun around to meet the shocked look on Lady Briaad's face.

There were still about half a dozen virata soldiers standing uncertainly behind her.

But before anyone could say another word, Lotte turned back to the painting and stepped inside.