The first rule of kidnappings, Popilia knew, was not to eat or drink anything her captors gave her. But no one had ever properly explained why to her, so she failed to see why she should pay any heed to it. The truth of the matter was: her mouth was bone dry, her stomach was caving in on itself, and her whole body ached. She itched at the corners of her mouth where the gag had rubbed. Eugh, I can still taste the cloth. Her stomach growled again.

'It's hardly fit for a princess,' said the man in front of her. The fire made him too much of a silhouette for her to make out many details. Just a pointy chin and comically bushy eyebrows.

'Yes, but I'm hungry,' she said. A note of whining came into her voice that her tutor would have scolded her for. 'And how do you know what a princess eats?'

The man laughed – a warm sound in this cold place. 'Why, everyone knows what princesses eat. Gold-covered berries and expensive spices and all the choicest meats.'

She sniffed. With it came a waft of wholesome porridge scent. 'Gold upsets my stomach. I prefer porridge.'

'Alright then.' Her captor sighed. 'This is almost ready.'

'Thank you.' Popilia scratched at her neck and brushed up against the warm filigree of her choker. She scowled, then remembered. Jerking upright so suddenly that, with her hands tied behind her, she almost overbalanced, she searched the cave for her dragon. It was curled up next to her, its breath hissing quietly between its teeth. Popilia hadn't sensed it in quite the same way as during the ceremony since then, but when she knew where to look, she could detect its presence. It formed a persistent 'pull' on her subconscious, like standing in the dark and knowing someone was right behind you, even when you couldn't see or hear them.

'Don't even think about untying her,' the man said.

Popilia blinked at him. 'Her?'

'Sure.' He spooned porridge into a little clay bowl and passed it to her with a wooden spoon. 'That's a female dragon. You didn't know?'

Popilia took the spoon and shovelled porridge into her mouth, shaking her head as she swallowed. No one had told her that, but they hadn't told her much. No doubt someone, somewhere, had plans and studs and breeding lines drawn out already. None of that would matter until her dragon reached maturity, though.

Although, thinking of plans... 'Where are you taking me?'

'To the person who hired us.' The man blew on his own porridge while he added more oats and water to the pot. Popilia hoped he was making seconds.

'And where will they take me?' she asked.

'They didn't tell me. My guess is the Ijaran Kingdom.'

Popilia wrinkled her nose. 'I don't like them. Their king just stinks and swears at everyone, and he eats so much food.' She had heard it took him over an hour to relieve himself after meals, and he had once eaten a whole side of lamb in one sitting. 'And his daughters are all mean. Why do they want me, anyway?'

A new voice called from the front of the cave – a woman's, deep and thickly accented. 'It's your dragon they're after. You're just a bonus.'

Turning, Popilia got a clear view of the woman. She was tall, though not as tall as Critobulus, and built like a barge hauler. On one side of her face, where an ear should have been, was only a ragged hole partly covered by limp strands of wet hair. Popilia tried not to stare, but from the sour look that crossed the woman's face she wasn't successful.

'But...' Popilia licked her lips. Her attention shifted back to the filigree around her neck. 'My bond can't be broken. There's no point taking my dragon. They can't do anything with it. With her, I mean.'

The man by the fire stood up and passed a third bowl of porridge to the woman. No seconds, then.

'Most likely,' he said, 'they'll ask you to work for them.'

'And if I say no?'

'Could also be ransom,' the woman mused, ignoring her question. 'You'll find out soon enough.'

The man shot her a dark look, then said, 'We should all get some sleep, in any case. Wait for this storm to clear, and for daylight.'

Popilia straightened. 'But I only just woke up.'

The woman turned her way, brows lowered. 'And we were up that whole time. You'll sleep or we'll put you to sleep, princess. Your choice.'

Popilia was about to argue when she remembered the way the guards outside the carriage had fallen asleep, the way dust had glittered through the interior when the door had opened, and how she had seen her tutor slump before dizziness took her too. So she chose to sleep the natural way.

Or, at least, she pretended to sleep. She stayed quiet and tried not to move, though the hard floor made that difficult. Her captors took it in turns to sleep, first the woman and then the man, who snored so loud that the cave echoed with buzzing. The woman kicked him once or twice to shut him up, casting concerned glances out at the darkness beyond the cave.

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Her guards must be looking for her. How close were they? Popilia considered shouting out for help, but she could hear the wind howling outside – surely that would snatch any sound away. And if she really was 'just a bonus' to her dragon, like the woman said, would they kill her for making noise? She didn't think the man would, but the woman... She wasn't kind at all. Though Popilia wouldn't be happy if someone chopped her ear off, either.

The night passed quickly. She dropped off a few times and slept fitfully. When she woke the last time, her dragon had already woken, and she lay with her tail draped across Popilia's legs and her head curled against her chest. Popilia scratched her behind her ear – or what she thought was her ear – and she just blinked at her.

You really are just a big, sleepy cat, Popilia thought. Somehow, the thought reached further than usual, like her mind stretched away from her body to encompass the dragon's, too. Can you understand me?

The dragon inclined her head, which was something, but not a definitive answer.

Can you talk?

Nothing.

Disappointed, Popilia looked around the cave. Both her captors were awake again. They crouched near the mouth of the cave, just visible between the legs of the horses next to her, and spoke in hushed whispers that Popilia could barely hear. The woman held a map, and they both examined it, gesticulating in one direction or another.

'Are we lost?' Popilia asked.

They both snapped their heads up to look at her.

'No,' the man said. 'Just working out the best route. It's not far from here. We're getting back on the horses now.'

'But I'm hungry. And thirsty. And I need to pee.'

With a sigh and a questioning glance at the woman, the man walked over and untied Popilia's wrists before handing her a bag of dried nuts and fruit.

'You can eat those on the way.' He handed her his waterskin. 'Take a swig from this as well.'

She gulped it down, wishing it didn't taste so much of leather but not caring much. When she was done, the man took it back from her and gestured to the back of the cave where the remnants of last night's fire smouldered.

'You can pee there. We won't look.'

Popilia's lip curled as she eyed the open space, but sitting up to look had squashed her bladder and she was bursting now. So she squatted in her skirts and lifted them so the hem didn't touch the floor, keeping a watchful eye over her shoulder to make sure they kept true to their word. That they did – too busy leading the horses out front to care.

When she was done, she walked over to her dragon and tried to lift her without much success. The creature didn't struggle, but she must have weighed as much as Popilia herself. If only her wings worked and she could fly them away from here!

'Let me do that for you, princess,' said the man with a chuckle in her voice.

A few steps away, the woman rolled her eyes. As the man picked up her dragon and carried her away, the woman gestured to Popilia. 'Come here, then. Let's get you on a horse.'

Popilia stayed where she was and shook her head. 'No.' She clasped her hands in front of her. 'I'm staying here.'

'No, you're not.' The woman walked towards her, backing her up against the wall of the cave. When she was a yard away, Popilia darted under her outstretched arm, but a moment later strong arms encircled her and pulled her from the floor.

'Let me go!' She twisted and kicked, but achieved nothing. The light of the outside world bobbed closer with each step, still grey and overcast, but nowhere near as bad as the storm when her carriage had stopped.

The woman sat her down on one of the waiting horses and jabbed a finger at her. 'You jump off, I put you straight back you. You fall off, same story. Scream and I gag you again. You know how many bones you can break falling off a horse? Don't try it.'

Those were, at least, clear instructions. Popilia didn't intend to break them. She stared down the length of the valley, embraced by morning mist. To either side the mountains rose, steep and uninviting. She hadn't been awake for much of the journey here – any of it, in fact – so how could she even make it back home? Three people and two horses were easier to spot from a distance, at least.

As they set off with her two captors leading the horses, the man turned to the woman and muttered, 'You don't have to go so hard on her, Galnai.'

Galnai grunted. 'Life doesn't coddle girls. Why should I?'

The man only sighed and trudged on, the ground squelching beneath his feet.

Munching her nut mix as they rode, Popilia could almost pretend this was just some new adventure. They rode for the best part of that morning, the clouds thinning as they rose higher in the mountains. Soon she could guess at a rough time of day, as the sun began to peek through gaps in the cloud directly overhead. At the same time she spotted an odd pile of weathered stones in the distance, raised she guessed by human hands on a mound in the bowl of the valley.

As they drew closer, she caught a flash of sun on metal and noticed a small figure standing in the entrance to the strange building. It remained there, watching, and eventually they had come close enough that Popilia could tell it was a man with pale skin, tall and wearing shining armour beneath a patterned cloak. He didn't come out to meet them, but waited until they were closer before beckoning them inside and disappearing.

Her captors hesitated and glanced at the horses, but then the man followed the soldier inside, still leading the horse with her dragon tied to it.

A clear path ran into the structure, with great blocks of stone towering up above them, their sides covered by the myriad pits and divots of time. The horses, until now quite flighty, seemed to relax in the close confines. When they emerged in a small clearing in the centre of the stones, they happily put their heads down to chew the sparse grass.

'I admit, Janu,' said the new man, gaze passing over Popilia and her dragon, 'I'm impressed. You did such a good job describing the madness of our request that you had me convinced it was impossible. The rest of your payment.' He took a large pouch from his belt and handed it to Janu, who weighed it and began counting the coins.

Popilia tried to sneak glances at the man when he wasn't looking her way. He was quite handsome, like a storybook prince with his sandy hair catching the light in waves. Even Galnai's gaze skittered away from his although, Popilia realised, there was something else behind that. Discomfort, somehow. She didn't like him, perhaps. Why?

'It's all there,' Janu said at last, tucking the pouch into his own belt. He glanced towards Popilia. 'What will happen to her?'

The soldier smiled and was about to respond when his smile faltered. He put a finger to his lips and cocked his head, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

Popilia held her breath, straining to hear over the wind that howled around the stones. Then she heard it: hoofbeats, dozens of them, like distant thunder.

Janu swore. 'Ilarion, take this horse and go. We'll take the other.' He gestured for Popilia to get off her horse but the soldier, Ilarion, shook his head.

'No,' he said, drawing his sword. 'It's too late. You won't outrun them. We have to hold them off.'