Handmaiden

Chapter Three

Artemis' hands were bleeding from the slices she had made across them with one of his dark scales. Trying to inflict the wound on herself had been hard enough with his steely gaze fixated on her, but keeping somewhat calm as the blood slithered through her fingers and splattered to the floor was next to impossible. Soon this blood would belong to the dragon, and the bond that forged between them would control every aspect of her life.

"Come," he hissed quietly as she stood there with trembling hands. "Touch your blood to my horn."

She walked forward in a daze, reaching out her hands for him. She had to do this. Lane needed her now.

The great black dragon lowered his head down to her, triumph gleaming in his green orbs. Artemis wanted to wretch at the thought of what was about to happen to her, to her life. When she took one last desperate look at Lane, the black dragon just chuckled.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked, and she could see how casually his flat, heavy tail swung close to her brother's head, making her start.

"No," she answered weakly, turning back to face him. The sudden closeness was surprising again, but she tried not to show it even as his deep, hot breaths washed over her and sent her dark hair swirling away from her face. She eyed the large, sharp, black horn on the ridge of his nose for only a moment before placing her bloody hands on it. If she let her thoughts catch up to her, surely she would lose her mind.

At first she felt nothing; merely the smoothness of the spike beneath her palms as her hands slid slowly down it, slick with blood. Then a green light began to squeeze through the tiny crevices of the horn, like a firefly's light splitting through a child's playful grasp. The horn began to glow more wholly, leaving little to her imagination, and she began to feel truly afraid.

"Don't move," he warned severely with a growl as she attempted to take a step back, "Unless you really do wish death on your family."

Artemis snapped out of her panic as she remembered her brother behind her – that was until the horn began to burn beneath her hands. She winced, though the action didn't clearly portray how uncomfortable the sudden heat was on her skin. But still, she let out not a sound, determined that the black dragon wouldn't see any more of her weakness.

She held on as tight as she could, gritting her teeth together in agony as the horn flared with power and heat. This was the bond, it had to be. Through the crack in her eye she could see another glow beginning to pulse in the dragon's chest, just at the base of his throat and she realized what was happening.

She was lighting his dragonspark with her blood.

Awestruck, she watched the green light through her pain, mesmerized and horrified by what she was creating. In a few mere moments, he would have the power to burn her home to the ground.

Artemis whipped her eyes to his in desperation. "Promise you won't hurt them!" she begged.

The light in his chest flared dangerously again as he spoke. "I'll have no need to deal with insects."

She just nodded. It was all could she do as the burning swelled and she had to double over to keep from fainting from the pain. But then the heat radiating from the horn was suddenly quelling just as urgently and he didn't stop her this time when she ripped her hands away to assess the damage that had been done.

But her hands appeared untouched, the only visible proof of what had happened were two shiny pink scars where her self-inflicted wounds had just been. Confused, she just stared at the pale flesh of her hands without uttering a word. They weren't burned or torn in the slightest, and when she flexed her fingers they moved with little pain. As if the whole thing had never happened.

"The bond is complete," the black dragon informed her, "My dragonspark has been lit. I can feel its heat within me, and my scales will no longer cut into your weak, mortal flesh."

Artemis let her hands fall to her sides but didn't look at him. Physically she felt fine, but mentally she wasn't sure if she was still all there.

"Our lives are tied for eternity," he continued, ruthless. "I have plans for you."

She heard the words spoken from the dark demon, but refused to let them sink in. Not yet.

"Can I say goodbye?" she asked numbly.

"You may, for the next time you see him I assure you he will think of you as his sister no longer."

Again, she blocked the words out. How horrible. How despicable of him to remind her of such things. Surely her bond with Lane was stronger than dark scales? Surely he could see past the dark dragon's evil intentions, and see her on the other side?

Walking away, she scooped up the dark scale that she had plucked from his hide and had used to slice her hands. Indeed, it didn't feel sharp to the touch anymore. It felt smooth as she turned it over in her grasp, like an eroded ocean stone.

Reaching her brother's body, she knelt down with a shaky breath. What did she say? I'm sorry? I saved your life at the cost of my own? Please don't come for me? Nothing seemed to fit this new predicament she was in. What was he going to think of her? Would he be grateful for another chance at life, or would this tear at him just as the thought of losing him had torn at her? Perhaps he would think of it as a life saved, but at what cost? What if he turned on her in disgust. A bond with a black dragon. Was anything worse?

"Goodbye, brother..." she whispered simply, lifting his bloody hand and placing it on top of the sharp, dark scale. "I love you." She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Turning away took more effort than she had ever put into any action, and when her eyes landed on the dark dragon, she felt an unfamiliar rage begin to stir within her.

"Come," he beckoned, turning from her with little care. "The Green's breathing is growing stronger. We'll leave before he recovers."

Artemis followed him with a hanging head, as he headed for the part of the wall he had smashed down while infiltrating their home. This was it. She was leaving. Possibly never to return to Glassgarden. It was so sudden.

Just as she was about to climb over the debris and out into the night, a subtle quivering caught her attention. When she turned questioningly, her eyes landed on Hermis, shaking in terror behind a wooden chair and pressed into the corner of the room to hide himself. His temple was bleeding horribly, but his withered hand was reaching out to her, telling her not to go. Not to do this.

Artemis flicked her eyes to the black dragon as he easily climbed the mound of stones with his powerful hind legs and the joint-bones of his wings and slithered into the night. She turned back to Hermis, but there was nothing left to say. They were defeated. All she could do was shake her head, raise her fingertips to her lips and blow him a soft, thankful kiss. Then she turned and followed the black dragon into the darkness of night.

Outside, under the cover of the night sky, the black dragon was nearly impossible to distinguish. The only way Artemis could tell that he was still nearby was from the intense green glow of his eyes, and the newly lit dragonspark that flickered at the base of his throat. But even that was quickly fading.

In the distance on many sides, roars of fear and anxiousness and anger traveled back to her. The bravest of their party guests were lingering, either in dragon form or on the backs of their dragons. None would come to challenge the Black though. Not in the night where he could tear them to shreds before they even knew what direction they were being attacked from.

And probably not in the day either, she thought. No one wanted to test the boundaries of the rumor as only brave Lane had, and see if Blacks really could curse others.

Clearly they could. She was proof enough.

"Come," he growled impatiently. "We fly now."

"I don't have a sattle."

He lowered himself to the ground. "And neither will you get one, little human. You are a product of my revenge. Don't expect to be comfortable."

Artemis pressed her lips together, but kept from arguing. If there was one thing she would have to get straight for her own sake, it was that there would be no help for her anymore. Not from her family, from strangers or from her dark partner. She was on her own.

Tentatively, she closed the distance to his side. His green orbs didn't watch her as she walked around the giant, folded wing that lay partially against the ground. Instead, his gaze stayed forward, peering stoically into the forest.

When she touched his scales this time, she didn't bleed. They felt almost waxy, like a finely polished piece of silver or the leaves of the potted plant in her room. Her hand glided over his shoulder skeptically, trying to figure out how the scales linked and moved together so easily, like chain-mail. Razorit's never appeared so nicely lined, but then again she hardly ever got close enough to check.

"We don't have all night," he said, eyes still forward, like she was a tick that wasn't really worth the effort of a glance.

Gritting her teeth, she climbed up, being careful not to be too gentle with her movements. She settled in between his shoulder blades and stared at the back of his horned head expectantly. The edge of his mouth was pulled back in annoyance. It was a small piece of satisfaction.

Then he rose to his feet, and Artemis was so effortlessly reminded of her predicament as she lurched forward to catch herself on one of his protruding spines. If she didn't have the bond, the spike would have split her hand open again.

"Try to stay on," he laughed darkly as his wings lifted into the air and he balanced himself on his two back legs. She held on tight, expecting him to furiously beat at the air to get some leverage as Razorit did, but after a powerful push off and merely a few strokes he was airborne and all it took after that was a tilt and they were ascending into the sky.

It wasn't exactly comfortable without a saddle, but the movement was smoother than the few times she had ridden Razorit. At least at the moment, he wasn't trying to shake her off for amusement, though she was still suspicious that he might.

When the castle was left far below her, appearing to be nothing more than a smudge of grey illuminated by dots of torchlight, she noticed that the dragon was lingering. Slowly he circled, still eyeing the castle, looking for something. Then he circled again.

At first she thought he might be looking for Razorit – waiting for him to limp outside in defeat but after several moments of staring and nothing happening, she began to feel suspicious – and the first onslaught of homesickness too.

Then to her disbelief, a flicker of green caught her eye. She leaned to the left questioningly to look around the edge of his jaw, but almost lost her grip on the spike when she saw the flames building in his mouth.

"What are you doing!?" she screamed, but she had caught it too late and the fire erupted from his mouth like a volcano, raining down a stream of wicked green fire at her home. When the energy hit, it blasted a hole in the side of the castle that forced another broken cry from her throat.

Lane, was all she could think. And Razorit too. And Hermis. Poor, old Hermis.

"You're a monster!" she cried, letting the angry tears fall again this time with little rebellion. "You said you wouldn't hurt them!"

He merely angled his wings away from the castle and let the gentle wind pull them from the burning kingdom of Glassgarden. When he spoke, his voice was without emotion. "Then they should stay out of her funeral pyre."