Chapter 26 #2
Mal hated this kingdom and its rulers even more than I did.
Part of the reason there was such violence in the home he fled from was because of Mouren’s relentless, destabilizing attacks; they weakened his kingdom enough to allow Queen Meira an opportunity to steal the throne.
All the violence that followed with her rising regime can be traced, however indirectly, back to the very kingdom I’ve been feasting and dancing in.
So much violence.
There have been far too many moments lately where I’ve forgotten about the death and destruction Mouren has caused our world. Because the palace is warm and bright, and Reave is polished. Calculating. He doesn’t ravage the way one expects a monster to.
But I watched him methodically kill dozens of people on the very first night we met.
I’ve let him methodically carve his way deeper into me, too, and until tonight, I didn’t realize how deep.
And that’s arguably more dangerous than a raging dragon—a killer who doesn’t announce himself, a serpent who bites quietly enough, softly enough that you don’t even realize it’s injected its venom into you.
So I don’t know why I’m not sprinting into the distant woods and trying to disappear, or why I continue to sit on this cold, hard bench, even as Reave approaches me.
He doesn’t say anything at first, silently gathering up stones and tossing them into the water.
“Are you here for your coat?” I finally ask.
“Keep it. It looks better on you, anyway.”
I shake my head, steeling myself, determined not to fall for any more of his flattery. Dragging the toe of my expensive-looking shoe around in the mud, I say, “I know it was probably a breach of contract, slipping away without your permission.”
He straightens, tossing a rock up and down in his hand as he considers my words. “As we’ve discussed at length, it was a poorly constructed agreement. So I really have no choice but to let it slide.”
I exhale a slow breath through my nose.
“Come on,” he says after a pause, throwing the rock into the creek and offering his hand.
I stare at him without moving.
“We have a dragon to unchain, don’t we?”
Right. That. It’s the only thing I would have been willing to get up for, I think—the thought of going to Sesca.
I’ve been so preoccupied with preparing and surviving the Sun Harvest Feast that I’ve seen very little of her since our visit the other night.
Her cryptic words about me, about the state of my soul and otherwise, have kept me at a distance too, if I’m honest; I still don’t know how to respond to any of it.
But facing her can’t be any more confusing than spending another moment alone with the king.
Slowly, I take Reave’s hand and let him pull me to my feet. His hold lingers just a touch longer than necessary, but I don’t dwell on this. My focus shifts to the distant coliseum, and that’s where it stays.
Neither of us says a word during the long walk to reach it.
While he gathers the servants and tools necessary to properly unbind her, I step into the arena alone.
Sesca rises to her feet at the sight of me, slinking down from her platform, golden eyes shining faintly in the low lighting. As if she can feel the swarm of unsettled emotions tormenting me, a wave of warmth sweeps out from her, wrapping around me like an embrace.
I take the first somewhat calm, normal breath I’ve taken all evening as I come to a stop in front of her, my hands jammed into the pockets of Reave’s coat.
“I’ve come to set you free.”
She cocks her head.
“I know you said you could break the chains yourself, but I wanted to do it for you. So, I made a deal for your release.”
Her tail twitches. More deals with the king?
“It’s becoming a habit, I’m afraid.”
She exhales more warmth that settles my shivering nerves. I close my eyes and bask in it for a moment, until I hear the king approaching, along with several others.
I sink toward the shadowy edges of the arena, keeping my distance from Reave. As I watch the chains fall away from my dragon, I replay my last extended visit and conversation with her over and over in my mind, once again wondering how easily she could have broken them—and why she didn’t do it.
Because you have yet to break yours.
I force myself to take several more steadying breaths, hands fisted at my sides to keep them from shaking.
Once the job is done, the king saunters closer to me, though his eyes remain on Sesca, watching as she hops back onto her platform and gives her newly-freed body a hard shake.
We both watch her flare her wings out as wide as they'll go. My breath catches at the sight—at how large those wings truly are, how beautifully the moonlight catches the feathered tips, the articulated ridges of bone, the iridescent membranes stretched between it all.
She lifts her head, seeming to take a moment to chart a path up the various jutting platforms scattered along the walls of the arena. Then she leaps, giving one powerful pump of her wings before falling into a steady glide—though only as far as the next closest platform.
It's impressive to watch her soar even this short distance.
But it's a long way to the top, and as I look to the opening high above, a tinge of worry strikes; I can’t help thinking about the injuries she sustained before coming here.
Her wings seem to have healed well enough, but they've also grown substantially…
and she's had no real way of testing them since our arrival.
“Do you think she'll be able to fly properly once she's in the open sky?” I ask Reave. “She hasn't really been able to practice.”
He considers, tilting his face upward. “Let's watch her take off from above,” he suggests. “Maybe your presence will inspire her.”
I'm not convinced I can inspire anyone at the moment—much less such a powerful divine creature—but he's already jogging for a door set into the far wall of the arena. And Sesca is moving more quickly as well, forcing me to make a decision.
I follow Reave into a stairwell that twists and turns up toward the rooftop. There are occasional openings cut into the stone that allow for a glimpse of the arena, for flashes of Sesca's lithe, bright body gliding from platform to platform.
Every glimpse of her fuels something fierce and ancient and insistent in my chest, a pull I can't fully separate from my own urgency.
I take off my shoes, carrying them so I can run faster.
After a few flights of stairs, I realize I'm feeling the dragon’s excitement as much as my own—and I think she's lending me some of her strength and speed, too, because I manage to pull ahead of Reave, navigating the steps easily even though the lighting is poor and my vision is worse.
I throw a taunt over my shoulder at him as I pass.
I can't help myself. He rises to the challenge, giving chase.
We forget ourselves entirely for a few moments—there is no king, no Flamebound, no uncertainty or fear or carefully maintained distance in this stairwell.
Just two fools laughing and racing higher and higher, teasing one another to the point of breathlessness and something dangerously close to joy.
I break through the door to the roof first, tossing my shoes aside, still laughing, still running with reckless abandon all the way to the edge. Reave catches me before I come too close to toppling over, drawing me safely back against his chest—
Just in time to see Sesca swoop upward, close enough that the air she displaces nearly knocks us off our feet.