Soul of the Dragon by Natalie J. Damschroder Page A

would be sacrificing myself for you.”  
    The dragon’s giant head swung back and forth. “I would not have you make that sacrifice. The thought of you giving yourself to him pains me more than the thought of living in eternity without you.”  
    She looked at him speculatively, and Cyrgyn wondered what the mage had said. He could almost see her mind working over possibilities.  
    “What did he tell you?” he asked softly.  
    Alexa raised her eyebrows. “What makes you think he told me anything?”  
    “He is a liar. With three previous lives worth of experience to back him up. He would be quite convincing, I know.” He began to pace again, little though he could. “He was a handsome and charming man.” Still was, he expected. But he wouldn’t ask. “He would have said we were best of friends, yet strongest of rivals. That when he turned his attentions to you, I attempted to steal you from him, bewitching you.”  
    “That’s pretty much the gist of it.”  
    She didn’t elaborate, or question him, or deny her belief in Tarsuinn’s words. Cyrgyn sighed. “Of course, there is enough truth to make it believable. To make you question my version of the story. To make you question me.” His voice faded in sorrow with the last words. Alexa moved immediately from where she leaned on the kitchen table to the rail of the loft and reached a hand to him.  
    “Cyrgyn, I didn’t believe him.” She stretched until he feared she’d fall and allowed her to touch his snout. “I know the stories are your word against his, but I have memories, and well-honed instincts. I knew when he lied.” She forced his eye to hers, and his heart leapt like it had been jolted by lightning. As it had every time she touched him. He had to keep some distance between them.  
    He moved back and curled onto the mattresses that were already compressed from his weight. Still, they were better than the hard floor. Alexa climbed over the rail and waited patiently. Cyrgyn smiled, remembering her childhood. And though it had been years and she was no longer a slip of a girl, he lifted his tail to her.  
    Alexa gripped one vertical fin and swung her foot to his scales. He braced for her weight, and when she pulled the rest of herself onto his tail, lowered her to the ground. Her delighted grin was worth the strain. He felt an answering grin in his heart, though it was more of a grimace on his face.  
    “I don’t understand something,” Alexa said, settling onto one of the mattresses and leaning against a coil of his tail. “Why does the curse have an out? A hint that it can be reversed? Why didn’t he just consign us to our private hell and be satisfied?”  
    “Ah, an education. First, all curses must be reversible. Either there is a counter-curse, or a repelling spell, or a way either the casting mage or the one cursed can cancel or reverse the effects.”  
    “Says who? Who wrote the rules for this stuff?”  
    “The magic did.” She scowled skeptically, and he shrugged. “Magic is not prevalent now, but it was in our day. It comes from an energy created by the earth and all life, and binds us as one. The magic is not a living entity, like a god or other incarnation, but is sustained by life. Life has rules. The Chinese are closest to an understanding,” he explained, “because they have a stronger connection to their past. They refer to yin and yang, to balance.”  
    Alexa looked interested, and Cyrgyn felt some of his helpless frustration slip away. He did have a role to play here. Theirs was still a partnership.  
    “The magic is primarily a force of good, though evil must exist to maintain the balance of life. No pure evil—no pure harm—can be committed without balance. Hence, no pure curses.”  
    Alexa nodded. “Okay, I can see that. ‘More things on heaven and earth, Horatio.’ I can buy the hocus pocus stuff.”  
    Cyrgyn winced but chose not to chastise her. She would learn.  
    “And I can