He had it backward, I thought. Oreg and I both tasted of my home, not the other way around. I realized that I’d been worried for naught. No one would believe in a dragon—Jade Eyes found it much easier to conjure up a new power from his imagination than to believe there were dragons at Hurog again. There was desire in his eyes that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the lust for power.

“I can’t work magic anymore,” I said. People who lusted after power were dangerous; one of them had destroyed Hurog.

“But that doesn’t mean that the magic went away,” he replied. “Magic doesn’t do that. It came to us here and watched over you all night—I could feel it hover. You have given your magic an intelligence of its own. Did it happen when your father beat you?”

“If there is magic here, it is not mine,” I said. I knew what must have happened: When Oreg had fallen asleep, he’d forgotten to mask his power. But Jade Eyes had certainly come up with an entertaining explanation.

He ignored me as if I hadn’t spoken, rocking back on his heels and humming a bit to himself. When he stood up, he murmured, “I’ll have to tell the king about this. How interesting.”

Garranon’s eyes met mine, worried. I shrugged. It wasn’t a good thing to draw Jade Eyes’s attention, but there was nothing I could do. Oreg was supposed to meet me in Estian, but he’d followed instead, and I had no way to tell him not to.

Ah, well,I thought,at least Jade Eyes thinks it is just me he is feeling. Nothing that would endanger Hurog.

Jade Eyes didn’t speak to me again during the remainder of our journey, but he watched me all day, and when I awoke each morning, he was seated by my side staring at me again. The desire to cross my eyes and stick out my tongue at him grew almost overwhelming. But I was Hurogmeten and I had my dignity.

I was a model prisoner, joining in dicing games in the evening, and rowdy songs during the day. The general, whose name I finally discovered was Lawin, eventually only tied me at night. I didn’t play stupid—as I once had—but I didn’t go out of my way to discuss philosophy and battle strategies, either.

Garranon kept to himself, like a man who’d betrayed a friend. I’d have told him not to fret, but it would have looked odd for me to search him out. I knew he’d had little choice. Jakoven liked to watch people writhe. Truth was, I wasn’t precisely Garranon’s friend; men in his position couldn’t afford to have friends. But I liked him, and always had.