Page 19 of Hearts on Fire
Bringing her hands to her hood, Zenada lifted the lace, giving the king a heated look. She then slid the hood down, revealing her hair braided into two long plaits with golden ribbons woven through.
Slowly, she tugged at the ties of her robe at her neck, then shrugged out of it, letting the robe fall to the floor. The deliberate, artistic way she was undressing told me it was also a part of the act.
The king clearly appreciated it, shifting to the end of his throne. His eyes sparked with excitement as he watched her every move.
Zenada opened the clasps of her dress, then dropped it to the floor on top of her discarded robe. There was no shirt underneath. Instead, she had a short leather bustier on, with a pair of matching pants. The pants sat low on her hips, emphasizing the dip of her narrow waist. Each pant leg was split open from the knee down, giving them a flared shape. The dark-brown leather of her outfit was embroidered with golden thread and ruby beads that twinkled in the light as she moved.
She took two metal torches out of her bag, then shoved the bag and her discarded clothes away with her foot, giving herself some space.
The king suddenly stood up from his throne, then walked behind it, disappearing from view. The next moment, he grew, his head rose above the high back of his throne, his shoulders spreading wider. His neck elongated, his skin turning to bright red scales that shimmered with gold.
Zenada’s chest rose with a deep breath. She braced herself before raising her torches up over her head. They were unlit. And I saw no buckets of flammable tar anywhere.
The king fully transformed into a dragon now. He lay behind the throne, his long neck curled around its back with his head leaning on the armrest.
“Are you ready, my fire dancer?” the dragon’s voice thundered, making the crystals under the dome tremble and clink.
Zenada nodded, her pose tense. The dragon opened his mouth. A cloud of smoke churned over his long tongue with sparks of fire. He formed a circle with his lips and blew. A long ribbon of bright sparkling fire shot out of his mouth, snapping over Zenada’s head like a whip. She caught the fire with her torches, setting their ends aflame.
The music leaped higher as Zenada took off in a dance. Moving smoothly, she tossed and twirled the torches. Their fire licked the leather of her outfit and skimmed the bare skin of her arms and midriff.
“Oh, she is so beautiful…” I whispered, mesmerized.
With another surge of music, Zenada flicked her wrists. The torches opened like two large fans—or dragon wings—each spike burning with fire at its end.
The musicians played faster as Zenada sped up her tempo. Instead of two torches, she now had twelve sparkling balls of fire on each end of a spike. They blurred into two continuous ribbons of light as she danced, twirling faster and faster.
I gripped Elex’s thigh, my eyes glued to the limber woman dancing inside what now looked like a hurricane of fire. It sparked and twisted around her, continuously changing shape with her every move.
The dragon-king’s eyes glistened wildly, his head moving slightly as he followed her movement along the floor.
Without warning, he blew another flame from his mouth. But Zenada must have expected it. She brushed through the flame with one of her metal fans, gracefully moving her body out of harm’s way.
The dragon blew another stream of fire and sparks out of his mouth. Zenada evaded it again. Raking the ends of her fans through the flame, she cut it into smaller ribbons, each curling and twisting in its own way. They created unforgettable designs in the air before disappearing into tendrils of smoke.
The dragon wouldn’t let her rest, blowing more fire, faster and faster. This didn’t look like teamwork anymore, but competition. The king no longer worked with her but against her. He clearly tried to trap her, to force her to make a mistake, and to hurt her. The cold glint in his eyes said hewishedto hurt her.
He blew the fire to her right, then almost immediately to her left. Zenada wasn’t fast enough. The second blast lashed against her midriff, searing her exposed skin and scorching the leather of her bustier.
She cried out in pain, stumbling on her feet and messing up the next step of the dance. I jerked instinctively, trying to get to her. But Elex flexed his arm around my waist, holding me in place.
The dragon-king chuckled. “Still not fast enough, my littlesalamandra.”
It occurred to me that the king never called Zenada by name. I wondered if he even knew or cared to know it.
Zenada pressed her arm to her side, then jerked it away with a hiss. Her skin blistered and puckered, turning red where the king’s fire had touched her. It would add another scar to the many she already had.
“Zenada!” I fought against Elex’s grip, needing to get to her.
She threw me a warning look. Her dark eyes filled with tears, but she bit her bottom lip, not letting another cry of pain out. Hunching over, she picked up the bag with her equipment and her clothes, then limped out of the room.
The dragon leveled me with a stare.
“Still not tamed?” he growled, displeased. “Will you teach her how to keep her mouth shut, Lord Elex? Or should I do it for you?”
I stiffened, afraid to breathe. What was I in trouble for? For saying my friend’s name out loud? It made no sense. Yet the impending punishment seemed as real as ever.
Elex rose to his feet, hauling me up with him.