We sit at opposite ends of the oubliette now. A good ten paces between us. A moat of rat bones and suspicious puddles in the middle. I've dragged myself up onto a slightly less damp pile of skulls. Regal, in a gutter-chic kind of way.
"Don't come near me," I warn, pointing a crooked finger. "Your boobs are doing… things to me. And I don't want any pox."
She giggles. Full, sultry giggle. Like I just said something flirty instead of deeply hygienic.
"I mean it," I say. "Better safe than festering."
She winks. Boobs still doing things.
I cross my arms. Focus on a bit of bone that might be a rat femur. Or a wizard's finger. Hard to tell. Time crawls. The light from the window slants. We both sit there. Silent. Breathing.
Then—
A thud above.
Muffled shouting.
Screams.
The clang of something metal. Then the unmistakable whuff of fire catching flesh.
I jerk upright.
More screams. A second roar, deeper. A sound like air being sucked out of the world. The flames again.
Then—
"Saya? Are you down there?"
That voice.
That ridiculous, nasal, haughty, beautiful voice.
The Dragon.
I scramble to my feet, nearly slip on a ribcage, and yell up, "Yes! Down here! About time!"
There's a pause.
Then his voice again, already suspicious. "What is that smell? Did you bathe in plague broth?"
I glance over at Miss Carnal Catastrophe, lounging like this is a spa. "Well," I call up, "funny story. I made a new friend!"
He groans. "No."
"She's charming. Deadly. Vaguely moist."
The hatch creaks. Then his massive snout appears in the hole above, nostrils flaring, smoke curling.
I wave. "Say hi to the dragon."
The girl smiles sweetly. "Hi, Dragon."
He freezes. Sniffs again. Then recoils so hard he nearly falls off whatever he's standing on.
"Saya. What. The fuck. Is that girl infected?!"
I nod. "Technically, yes. But only in the deadly vagina sort of way."
He lets out a horrified hiss. "I knew I smelled festering doom."
The girl, unfazed, brushes back her hair. "Pretty sure it's not airborne. And I doubt you can catch it from being ridden."
"No way," the Dragon snaps. "Your poxy crotch is not touching my bare scales. This hide is antique. It needs oils."
I sigh. "We can't just leave her here."
He growls. "Oh, we can. In fact, we should. She's an assassination spell with boobs."
"She's also in a hole," I snap. "With me. So either get both of us out, or you can come down here and keep me company with your big fat immune system."
Silence.
Then a grumble. "I hate my life."
Much later, by the river, the Dragon is half-submerged and absolutely losing it. He's hunched under a soapwood tree, twisting and grinding his massive back against the bark like a bear in heat, flinging water and flayed moss in all directions.
"Foul, plague-riddled harlot spawn!" he growls, clawing at his scales like they've personally betrayed him. "She breathed on me. I can feel it. It's in my pores. I'm going to molt. I'm going to die itching."
On the bank, I'm drying my boots over a warm rock. The girl sits nearby, cross-legged again, wringing water from her hair like a temple nymph with a body count.
She glances over at the frothing reptile in the river. "So," she says, casual as sunrise, "you ride around with a real dragon?"
I nod. "Mostly to scam villagers and insult each other. But yeah."
"Cool," she says, genuinely.
The Dragon lets out another strangled groan and tries to wedge a tree branch under his wing.
She stands, ties her tunic at the hip, gives me a once-over smile. "Well. I'll be going along now."
I blink. "That's it?"
She shrugs. "Thanks for the rescue. Tell your scaly boyfriend not to scratch too deep or he'll bleed out."
Then she saunters off barefoot, ass swaying, whistling some bawdy brothel tune as if she didn't just cause a full-scale hygiene meltdown in a six-ton mythical apex predator.
I watch her walk off, bare feet squelching through the mud like it's a royal promenade. Hips swaying, not a care in the world, probably humming the same song she used to curse emperors with her cunt.
I just sit there.
Still stunned.
Still dripping soup from earlier.
So… okay.
There is someone out there with weirder karma than mine.
That's… oddly comforting. And deeply disturbing.
Behind me, the Dragon lets out a strangled wail as he accidentally snaps a branch off mid-scratch and tumbles into the river with a splash that soaks both our cloaks.
"You're fine!" I shout, not looking away from the girl's disappearing silhouette. "It's not even transmissible to lizards!"
"She touched a rock I later stepped on!" he roars from the riverbank, flailing.
I shake my head. "Drama queen."
Still.
Assassin with tits.
Whole kingdoms falling from a single lay.
Yeah. I'm gonna need a minute. Maybe two. Maybe a drink.