It is getting harder to hide her desperation. Rose can admit now that Jake isn't coming, if only to herself.
She must make a choice.
She could return to the Huntsclan alone. Her report would focus on her failures, on how she lost Jake and gained nothing for it. She would be stripped of her title of Huntsgirl. The elders would believe she was given it too soon, that she wasn't ready, that is undeserving. Her judgement would be questioned for years, every action and answer scrutinized. If Jake manages to survive and return, her association with him would only bring him down. For his own safety, they would have to cut ties.
If she brought the American Dragon with her as proof of their success, she would keep her title. Jake's loss would not be held against her if she returned with such a prize. She could slay the dragon now, sparing her suffering, or she could bring the dragon back alive and slay her in the arena. She knows which would be expected, but despite her accomplishments, she is young enough that returning with a slain dragon would be sufficient.
But if she slayed the dragon, as she has been trained to do, she would not be able to help Jake. It would all be for nothing. She doesn't care about the prestige it would bring her, not with how much it would cost her.
Dead dragons tell no tales, but they also keep their secrets.
"Please, just let me go," the dragon begs again.
She is trying to do this for Jake.
She doesn't want to lose him now.
But if it gets out that they'd captured the American Dragon and didn't even attempt to slay her or bring her back to the Huntsclan….
Rose already risks being branded as a traitor. She's known that from the moment she realized what Jake was and began taking measures to protect him. And she knows the betrayal of the Huntsclan will ultimately mean her death. Torture would come first, with more than a bit of truth serum—they would want to know her motives, find out everything she's discovered and if there's anything else she's keeping from them—but when they are finished with her, she would face the executioner.
Assuming they decided they didn't want her in the arena, as they wouldn't if they feared her actions might inspire others. That would depend on how the other initiates came to view her actions. If seeing her struggling to survive for a few more minutes would be a victory for the Huntsclan, a lesson to all those who dare contemplate defiance, it would be done, but if there was a chance of it becoming kindling for a resistance….
The Huntsclan is very careful about not making martyrs of those who dare to stand against them.
They might cover up her death entirely, changing their records and blaming the dragons.
Jake would have it far worse, if they manage to recover him and learn what he is. He would be subjected to all sorts of tests before his death. The Huntsclan would want to know everything they could about him. Whether or not he is a dragon by birth, the Huntsclan would conduct every experiment they could imagine. He is a perfect test subject.
It is a horror that Rose doesn't wish on anyone. She would rather slay Jake herself than have him face that. It would be a mercy.
But she doesn't want to lose him. She doesn't want to think about losing him. They haven't lost yet, and she can't think about failing now. She doesn't know if the dragons have fed him potions of their own to loosen his tongue, doesn't know what he might have been forced to tell them, but….
Rose lets out a slow breath, tears her eyes from the cave entrance, and spins to point her spear at the dragon. The dragon still flinches, but not as much as she had before. "If you wish for me to even consider granting you your freedom," Rose hissed, "you have to be willing to give me something in exchange."
The dragon straightens up despite the sphinx hair pressing into the skin of her mask, even though the same had had her wincing before. Rose can see faint red lines where her skin is burned, but the dragon has kept shifting and huddling, trying to have as little pressing on her as possible. Until now. "I won't betray the ones I'm meant to protect." Her voice only barely quavers. Rose won't let her know it, but she is impressed.
Rose withdraws her weapon. "Then tell me about yourself, dragon, if you won't speak of others. Why should I simply let you go? You must know enough about the Huntsclan to know the repercussions I would face if it came to light that I did so." She is very careful not to reference the dragon's apparent age. Rose does not want the dragon to know how difficult it is for her to remember that the little girl is most likely a mere mask rather than the dragon's true human form.
Although such youth, such inexperience, could explain why it might be.
Rose has been raised to be a warrior, and at eight, or ten, or possibly even six, or whatever age the dragon's guise is meant to be, she would have been better suited to this situation than the dragon. But she isn't sure if that's meant to be an act. The specific details of the American Dragon are scant, but Rose cannot remember another dragon being referred to as the American Dragon. It has always been this one. She has always been young, in training, an easier target than the more senior dragon that acts as her protector but nonetheless one that is not to be underestimated lest an initiate make fools of them all.
But if the dragon is merely as old as her form appears, Rose doubts that is true. She would have to have been in training since birth, and her true nature would not have shown so early. Either Rose's recollections are wrong or all references to the American Dragon have been kept deliberately vague. It is even possible that the dragons themselves spread false tales of the American Dragon to hide their weakness and that none of the earlier accounts Rose remembers are based in fact. Indeed, that might explain why the references have grown more pointed in recent years, once the dragon manifested her form. After all, Jake lived longer than this dragon appears to have before even discovering his nature, assuming it isn't a curse like he wishes it to be.
Rose is not certain he is so lucky. There has been nothing in the Huntslibrary. Not that there would be. It would be such a carefully guarded secret, and Jake might be the first subjected to it.
The dragon says nothing and looks away.
She might not be as foolish as Rose thought.
Or she might not be as young.
The silence between them stretches, and Rose eventually decides that it is safe to return to her vigil.
She doesn't expect the question when it comes. "Who is that dragon? The one who tricked me. Who is he?"
This time, it is Rose's turn to keep silent, even though she wants to spin around and demand how the dragon knew Jake was a he. Jake never spoke in her presence; the dragon shouldn't know anything about him beyond the appearance of his dragon form. It takes more effort than she cares to admit to keep from turning her head to acknowledge the dragon's question. She tries to relax the grip on her spear, lest her white knuckles betray her.
"Why would he work with you? What did you do to him?"
Rose breathes in and out slowly, keeping her focus. She cannot afford to do anything that might betray Jake.
"Did you threaten his family? His friends? You must have some hold over him or he would've come for help."
Rose recognizes the desperate pitch of the dragon's voice. Too young to properly mask it or merely letting the appropriate amount leak into her voice to bolster her guise?
"He should know better than to believe any threat you made will disappear, just because he helped you this once," the dragon says bitterly. "He must be young, not to know the horrors of the Huntsclan. Or foolish."
There is uncertainty in her voice.
She doesn't believe the dragon she saw was so young.
She is not quite convinced the dragon is a fool, either, with how she had been played, led right into their trap.
"Or inexperienced?" Rose offers. She lets the slightest tinge of a sneer colour her voice, and she doesn't turn.
"Inexperienced would explain how he was flying," the dragon snaps. "He flies like he doesn't understand the wind."
He doesn't.
But Rose forces out a laugh and finally allows herself to turn. "Is that what you think?" Mocking. Taunting. She mustn't let the dragon know she needs to hear every word the dragon is willing to say.
"It's what I know. It's like no one ever taught him how to fly properly. I've seen fledgling pigeons from the nest outside my window do better." The little dragon glares at her. "Did you drug him? Find some concoction to feed him so he can't fly properly?"
Find some concoction. So she believes it possible but doesn't know of something in particular. Useful, but not the sort of information Rose wants. "What makes you think I had to give him anything at all?" She wants to bite back the words the moment they leave her mouth. She didn't want to confirm that the dragon was right in thinking Jake male, but it is too late. She resolves not to give away anything more. For Jake's sake, not her own.
"You wouldn't trust a dragon that didn't have some sort of leash," the dragon spits. "You won't cut me free of this net, even knowing I'm too weak to do anything to you now."
"Or so you'd have me believe."
"You know what sphinx hair does to dragons or you wouldn't use it. If we could build up a tolerance to this, it wouldn't be a weapon for you anymore."
Which explains Jake's collapse, back when he was trying to use it to suppress his dragon form. There is no such thing as a low enough dose for that. Not that she had thought there was, but at least the dragon's words validate some of what they'd been taught.
Rose can see, behind the dragon's anger, how tired she looks. This fight is costing her precious strength, but she's decided to take a stand. She's decided that it's worth the effort. She thinks she must try, even if she cannot win.
It's curious that she'd spend her time fighting for a dragon who seems to have betrayed her rather than her own freedom, but Rose is merely grateful that this fight has replaced weepy pleas. She is more comfortable with sharp words, growing up with those who value silver tongues as much as fighting ability. Sharp words are hard to guard and much clearer than those choked out between sobs.
"Whatever hold you have over him," the dragon continues, "whatever you've threatened, or whatever you've promised…. Just know that I will protect him."
Rose's laugh is nearly genuine; she can hardly believe the dragon's incredible claim, and that makes it easy to pour derision into her tone. "You cannot even protect yourself."
The dragon cocks her head, and for the first time she smiles. It is enough to cause the smirk to fall from Rose's face, not that the dragon can see her expression beneath her mask. "Do I need to?"
The words send ice down Rose's spine, and she digs the butt of her spear into the sand and hopes the dragon doesn't notice her trembling.
"If you wanted me dead, you would have slain me already." The words are spoken so matter-of-factly. Rose can't tell when the dragon came to this conclusion, when she'd begun to hope that her death might not be soon. "Or you would've taken me back as a prize, to play with and slay later. I thought…. I thought you might want me like this, instead of in my dragon form, because it would be easier for you to get rid of me, or because it might give you some more information about me. But you can hardly look at me. I'm not who you expect."
"Dragons are never what you expect," Rose says. The snarl has faded from her words; she can hardly say them with any strength at all. At least her voice isn't trembling. "It's not safe to rely upon assumptions, to expect that anything will be like it has ever been before."
The dragon nods slowly and wraps her arms around herself again. The fight is leaving her, and she's beginning to shiver again. "Will you at least tell me what you really want? I might…. I might be able to help, in exchange for my freedom."
"Wouldn't that make you young and foolish, striking a deal with the Huntsclan?"
"It wouldn't be a deal with the Huntsclan," the dragon whispers. "It would just be a deal with you." She falls silent for a moment, waiting for Rose to speak—to agree—and when she doesn't, she adds, "Cut me free if you change your mind. You can keep the net nearby, but…take it off of me, please. And let me see your face, since you know mine."
Rose turns away again.
She doesn't know if she wants to drive her spear through the dragon's heart or pull the dagger from her boot and slice through the sphinx hair.
She's afraid she's telling herself lies.
She looks at the stars again, sees how they've moved, and her heart sinks.
They are running out of time.
