9. TALIESIN #2
I don’t have to think of a retort, because a buzzer sounds three times, reminding us exactly where we are. “Come on, Princess. Time to go.” I crook a finger at her.
“What’s happening?”
“New arrivals. Finally. Maybe your friend London will be with them.”
The way she leaps up and excitedly smoothes her wild hair is not something…I like.
I lead Aurora out to the yard, keeping my hand hovering just inches from the small of her back.
The whole Digger block, and undoubtedly the whole prison, has been waiting for new fish.
We’ve no idea what’s happening on the outside since Hennesey told us of the rebellion.
He hasn’t been back to class since dropping the Great Awakening bombshell.
For once, it’s not raining or sleeting. A thin, weak hint of sunshine peeks through the industrial smog, glinting off the pale gold of Aurora’s hair.
She raises her face to the light, her skin almost glowing against the rough, oversized gray of her Digger coveralls.
Gods, she doesn’t belong in this miserable scrap heap.
The bleachers are already packed, but the top row is always left open for me and my crew.
As we take our seats, Layla reaches across Aurora, her fingers snaking toward the smokes in my top pocket with practiced, light-fingered greed.
Fucking cheek. Just because we grew up together doesn’t mean my tobacco is communal property.
I’m about to swat her hand away when Aurora suddenly throws her arms around Layla’s neck.
“What the fuck, Barbie?” Layla stiffens then recoils, her hands coming up as if she’s about to throw a punch. “What are you doing?”
Aurora’s face turns a shade of beet-red. “Uh… sorry. I thought you were going in for a hug.”
Clay and Imran burst out laughing. I can’t stop the crooked smile spreading across my face.
“Yeah, no, Princess,” I drawl, leaning back against the rusted iron rail. “We ain’t exactly the hugging types. Lay was just trying to rob me blind.”
Imran’s giggle turns into a rattling cough that he tries to stifle behind a hand.
“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Aurora grumbles, self-consciously brushing a long, matted strand of gold away from her face. “I was just trying to be polite, not like I wanted to snuggle with Layla, or whatever. Fuck off.”
“Aww, is Barbie embarrassed?" Lay starts to tease, but her words get drowned out by a wave of animalistic shouting that erupts from the lower bleachers.
I feel Aurora tense beside me. Without thinking, I close the distance, my shoulder brushing against hers. She leans into the contact for a heartbeat, and for a moment it’s impossible for me to focus on anything but the scent of her skin.
I pull back just as the heavy iron intake doors groan open.
“Fresh fish,” Clay mutters, his humor vanishing into a grim, sharp focus.
Two new arrivals are pushed out. They look at the top age range for Quo. Twenty-one. One arrival looks ready to throw down, but before any blood starts flying, I want a news report.
Dimitry and I stand at the same time. “Stay with Layla and Imran,” I tell Aurora before I jog down the bleachers, Clay at my side.
“Good morning, Dimitry,” I say, arriving in the center of the yard.
“Dobroye utro, Taliesin.”
When the King and Bossman talk, it is always with a painful politeness. We also don’t call each other by our honorifics—we’re on a civilized first name basis.
My manners do not extend to Thad, Gleb and Heinz though. Fuck those assholes.
I gesture for Dimitry to go ahead, and take a small step back as he addresses the new fish. “Comrades, your first duty today is to share with us information from Havengard. A detailed statement will earn you our gratitude.”
One of the men has dark blonde hair and the air of privilege. “And a place in The Guild?” he asks, ignoring me.
“Perhaps. What’s your name?” Dimitry demands.
“Richard Duke,” the new guy replies, lifting his chin, as though we should all recognize the name.
The second newcomer is a little shorter, but built like a brick shithouse. His eyes flick in my direction, then he nods. “I will exchange news for favor, but I’m not afraid to fight to take my place.”
His accent is South American.
“And your name?” I ask.
“Hector, senor.”
I fix my gaze on him. “So, go ahead. Tell us everything you know from the moment the world changed.”
Hector straightens, his expression solemn. “Sí. Havengard is evolving, changing beyond recognition, senor. In truth, the whole world is.”
“Explain.”
“Three weeks ago, on the night of the Great Awakening, there was a shockwave—a tsunami de magia that spread across the globe. It hit everyone,” Hector continues.
“Even the ones purely human. Everyone carries the spark now. And the people, they shift into creatures. For most, it is the small animals—gatos, zorros, pájaros. But the strong ones? They are extraordinario.”
Dimitry’s eyes flare with desire. “And what do you change into, comrade? Are you… strong, extraordinary?”
“My family is from the Peruvian , the land of black water and deep shadows.” Hector pounds a heavy fist against his chest. “And I feel those ancient, cold scales living inside my flesh now. I am a shifter of the Black Caiman. El Caimán Negro. A crocodile.” He looks at the high concrete walls with a trace of predatory bitterness.
“Though here, in this cage, my beast is silent. He is a master of waiting in the mud. He does not need to roar to let you know he is the king of the river.”
King Dimitry raises an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Hector’s thick, powerful frame, before shifting to the blonde boy. “Duke, do you shift?”
“Yes, I do. Fuck, my magic feels unstoppable now.” Duke lifts his chin, smoothing the front of his scrub shirt.
“My lineage is slightly more… celestial. I am a Peryton. Wings of an osprey, the crown of a Great Stag.” He flexes his shoulders, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
“I’m made for the high peaks and the open sky, not to crawl in the mud with a lizard. ”
He flexes his muscles. Peryton? Sounds like an overgrown fairy. I’d take the crocodile over that any day.
“Tell us about the coup, the Great Awakening,” Dimitry commands.
Duke nods. “The media have been reporting on it non-stop; it’s fucking crazy that you don’t know anything.” He has a smug look on his face that disappears when Dimitry points a finger. “Do not make me cut your tongue out before spilling your stories, Duke.”
I’ve never seen the Guild King so uptight.
The blonde turns as pale as the morning smog.
“Sorry, s-sir. OK, so there was an engagement party in Havengard City—for Cosmo Drakeward and some Elite girl. That’s where it all went down.
Cosmo turned into a dragon, and so did his dad, Tyrus Drakeward.
They had a massive battle. The footage is still all over the internet.
Tyrus got killed, and a load of others.”
Aurora’s father was a dragon too? Interesting. Once again, I can’t help but wonder if Aurora is also a dragon-shifter—if she has those golden scales lurking beneath her porcelain skin.
Maybe that’s why I find her so magnetic. Even in this crowd of hundreds, I feel her presence like a hum in my blood. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and our eyes meet.
Fuck, concentrate Taliesin.
Duke takes a breath then continues. “Then this girl showed up. People say she turned into an angel—that’s when the Awakening happened—kaboom.”
“Did Cosmo Drakeward also die?” I ask. I don’t really care, but it would be kind of a shame. He’d done the right thing by a lot of people.
“Nah, but it was close, apparently.”
Dimitry interrupts before I can ask anything else. “So, the Conclave has fallen, but the Elites still remain the most powerful in society?”
“Absolutely,” Duke says, and I catch Dimitry visibly exhaling. “The Elite families are already governing the transition. When the dust settles, it’ll be business as usual.”