Playing with Fire

Playing with Fire- Chapter Eleven

As for the disappearance of Mark, nobody knows why he would be gone. They can only hope he doesn't end up like the poor young Zhǎngwò hǎo yùn. 

Trouble with connecting to your Dragon! He's joking, is he not? Surely he does not think you are weak with your Diànyuán. Only a Báichī would suggest you have limited control over your subconscious. Calm down, Yín sè. What he says doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is putting a stop to the murders and keeping the rest of us safe. Sorry, young one. It just angers me when you humans discriminate because of gender. After all, the most powerful Dragon is female. If they knew that, I wonder how society would change. Or if it would change at all. An interesting topic, I would believe. What's with the philosophical question, Yín sè. Wait... you heard that? Yeah, of course I did. I was just wondering why you're asking these questions. And why is it strange that I heard you? Oh, no reason... No reason at all.

With Yín sè being odd and Hayden being completely silent and serious, it was certainly shaping up to be a strange morning. The streets below our window were crowded, and human sounds made it through the glass and reverberated around the otherwise empty room.

Finally I couldn't take the silence and decided to at least do something. I slipped into the bathing room and drew myself a bath, filling the ceramic tub with grapefruit-scented bubbles that coated the scorching water like moss on a boulder.

My toes curled involuntarily as I lowered myself into the burning liquid. I hadn't had a proper bath in five days, as opposed to the usual two-day cycle we used for cleansing on the Dragon Isles. Any sweat or body oils that clung to my skin and hair floated away in the water. I scrubbed longer than I normally did, wanting to rid myself of all the dirt I'd picked up since entering the city.

When my body was fresh and pink and my hair smelled of raspberry shampoo, I crept out of the tub and dried myself off with a fluffy green towel. The fibers were absorbent and dried me almost as quickly as the towels back on the islands did.

When my wrinkled skin was mostly dry, I turned to the clothes Corri had given me. Apparently they belonged to my mother, and looked about the right size for my slender form. The clothes consisted of a navy and green sari that complemented my eyes and gave my hair a bluish hue, tight-fitting grey capris and brown leather sandals that squeaked against the ground when I walked. I was quite unaccustomed to wearing shoes of any kind, and the leather straps ate into my foot every time I took a step.

My coarse hair was still soaking wet and usually took hours to dry, so I instead pulled it up into a looped twist. I left enough hair down to cover my silver tattoo, which seemed to be shinier than it had been back on the Dragon Isles. Most likely just a trick of the light.

Hayden was dressed as well when I left the bathing room, wearing an outfit very similar to that of Corri yesterday. He was standing by the window, letting the Sun warm his face and the soft breeze play with his messy brown hair. The light twinkled in his ice blue eyes, sending a strange pang through my chest.

I looped my corded belt around my waist, taking care to keep it under the soft fabric of the sari. I was afraid the swords would cut through the delicate material of my mother's clothes, but the blue-green fabric was ostensibly stronger than it seemed.

"Come on," I called to my best friend, tossing him the maroon roll of fabric Corri had found for us yesterday. He wrapped it around his head in record time, packed his bag, and was out the door. We walked down the elegant wooden stairs arm in arm, marveling at the sight of the glass chandelier hanging in the entranceway.

Bright sunlight flooded the streets and brought a smile to even the unhappiest citizens. It was a far cry from yesterday, when the torrential downpour covered everything in a wet sheen of gloom. Dewy store awnings sparkled; sun-dappled grass ruffled in the slight breeze.