Whisper Read Free Page A

property.”
    Brin spoke gently. You know that’s not true. You are who you always have been. A scar does not make that any more or less so.
    “If it were any other scar, I would agree with you, Brin (Cyrus knows I already have my share), but I am reminded of his touch every time I feel the wound beneath my skirts.”
    The burn will heal, Dearra. In time, you will forget it’s even there.
    “Never. Even when the pain has faded, I will know. It makes me sick inside every time I look at it.”
    Let me see it, Dearra.
    Dearra lifted her skirt to expose the angry, red burn on her leg, the letter J vibrant against her pale flesh. She stayed like that for a long time, frozen in place, waiting for Brin to speak.
    I think I can help, Dearra, but it means trading one mark for another. Is that something you want?
    “Oh, yes, Brin, anything to get rid of this awful thing!”
    I can’t really get rid of it, Dearra, but…well…do you trust me?
    “That’s a foolish question. Of course I trust you.”
    Take the sword and press the flat of the blade over the brand. It’s going to get hot, but it won’t hurt like the other did. You need to be sure about this, Dearra. Once we start, I can’t stop. Do you understand?
    “Yes, yes! I’ll do anything, Brin. I’m sure. Just please hurry—I can’t stand it a minute longer. It…it disgusts me.” Dearra tucked the hem of her skirt at her waist to hold it out of the way.
    Brin instructed her to place the blade flat against her wounded thigh, so that the widest part of the sword completely covered the burn. Once the blade was in place, Brin began to speak.
    Draco Aeturnus,
    Prognatus Ignigena.
    Puella Maj,
    Ambo Consociu.
    The tip of the blade grew red hot, and a small wisp of smoke drifted up from it. Dearra felt only a deep warmth emanating from the metal, permeating her skin and seeming to make her whole leg tingle.
    “What does that mean, Brin?” Dearra asked, holding the blade firmly against her leg.
    Loosely translated it means, Dragon eternal, born of fire. Maiden of Maj, the two united.
    “Oh,” was all she could think to say.
    You can look now, Dearra.
    She slowly pulled the sword away and stared, open mouthed, at the mark the sword left behind. The original J was still raw, but the new mark looked as though it had been there for years. When the J finally healed, it would be nearly impossible to distinguish it from the rest of the mark she now bore, shaped like a dragon in profile, with a wide wing spread, curved gracefully upward to a fierce point. The figure’s head was held high, and topped with two magnificent horns, the mouth slightly ajar as if ready to speak, or perhaps breathe fire.
    Dearra, say something, he urged. It’s all right isn’t it? I did tell you that you would have to trade one mark for another.
    “No, it’s fine. I’m just nervous, I guess.” She took a breath and finally said, “Brin, it’s…it’s…thank you.”
    Satisfaction and relief at her response washed over Brin. Dearra yanked her skirt back into place and was preparing to bolt from her chamber.
    For Tolah’s sake, Fuzzy! Now where are we going?
    “I have to show Darius!”
    Brin didn’t argue. What good would it have done, besides?

Chapter 3
    Dearra made her way through the keep as quietly as she could, pausing briefly every once in a while to check for anyone who might be walking the halls so late at night. Now that Darius had been moved to a chamber next to her father’s, Dearra had to be a bit more cautious. She tapped lightly at his door and let herself in, not waiting for a response.
    Darius relaxed in front of a fire wearing only a pair of soft leather pants, trying to shake the tension of the day. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he had not heard her gentle tapping, but he was not surprised when Dearra slipped into his room.
    Darius took a deep breath, got to his feet, and approached her. “What are you doing here, Dearra?” he asked. His tone was firm, but