Chapter 22 #2
“You don’t bet, but you bet on trusting your enemy, the one person who could ruin it all with a word.
” He stopped a step away, his blue eyes barely catching the dim light from the lamp.
“You don’t bet, Arivelle, but you’re here with me, betting everything on the hope that we can train your dragon to use his flame only when you want him to and never when you don’t.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are the biggest gambler I’ve ever met.
” He pinned the card between two fingers and offered it to me.
Holding his gaze, I tried to hide how badly I was trembling. “I’ll bet on my dragon any day.” I snatched the card.
One of his arms reached out and gripped the nearest poster of his bed, right beside my shoulder. “What are you betting on right now?”
My heart scrambled into my throat, clogging my airway. I took a shallow breath. “I’m betting you know what’s good for you, Rushland.”
He rolled his eyes, but his arm flexed beside me. “Only my father calls me that.”
“Any time I want to make you mad, I’ll be sure to remember that.”
He leaned closer and smiled. “Aren’t we a prickly little thing?”
“And I bite.”
Chuckling, he said, “Let’s go, Miro.” As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “What card was it? Anything good?”
I glanced at the card in my hand. “Jack of spades,” I muttered.
“Not bad.”
My breathing had returned to normal by the time we entered the courtyard, and the cold air clawed down my exposed skin.
Myth rose to greet me as we stepped outside. He spread his wings and let out a small puff of smoke. Then he snorted and furiously sniffed at the place on my back where Covington had applied the ointment.
“All right, looks like he’s still pretty agitated, which is good.
” Covington held up his hands. “Yes, it’s good.
Hear me out. If he felt your fear, and he couldn’t get to you, then it won’t take much to provoke him to use his flame.
” He stepped closer. “Tonight, Ari, I want him to think he’s protecting you.
Dragonfire, from what we know of it, is strongest when a dragon is angry. We’ve been doing this all wrong.”
Placing my back to Myth for his warmth, I propped my hands on my hips. “And what, pray tell, are you hoping he’ll shoot his flames at?” A tremor inside me told me I already knew.
Covington held my gaze, and I swallowed, unable to ignore the sinking feeling inside me.
“I’m going to need to pretend to threaten you so he’ll try to use his flame.
I want him to torch this”—he held up a rolled booklet he’d grabbed from inside the house, one of the same booklets I’d seen on race day in Fairfax’s box—“but this will be dangerous.”
Dangerous was the way his thumb had traced up my back.
“I read that dragons use their flame to assert dominance,” I said, resorting to a safer topic.
“I’m aware,” Covington said, crossing his arms. He looked so smug, with his wrinkled white shirt, his messy hair, his wide-legged stance.
I circled Myth, trailing my hand along his scales. He kept his yellow eyes on Covington. “I think he already sees you as a threat,” I said, half-kidding.
Covington stepped forward, loosening his arms and staring up at Myth. “He remembers the first day we met.”
“What happened that day?” I asked quickly. “You were bleeding everywhere.”
He reached up and let Myth sniff his arm, where the ointment was already healing his wound. “You should have seen the other guys.”
I cringed. But after his performance tonight, I didn’t doubt his words. “Why did Myth attack you that day?”
“It was Azeron he was attacking.”
“What were you doing?”
He leveled his gaze on me. “Attempting exactly what we’ve been doing all semester.”
My lips parted, a small puff of breath wafting out. “You said there were others. Did someone see Myth shooting sparks?”
“You wonder why I left them incapacitated.”
Shock tipped me back against Myth’s warm side. “Did you…”
“I didn’t kill them, though that would have made this easier. They’ve all likely recovered, but I doubt they’ll remember much about what happened. They were trying to kill Myth, and I stopped them.”
A cold wind howled through the alleyway beside the house. Chimney smoke hung on the breeze, and my arms prickled with goosebumps. All this time, Covington had been trying to keep Myth alive.
In my silence, Covington continued, “He attacked when we arrived. He was already in defensive mode, and I don’t blame him.
I was trying to provoke him, after all. I do, however, still hold a grudge against him for hurting Azeron.
” He laced his arms over his chest and threw a halfhearted scowl up at Myth.
Myth snorted, zeroing in on Covington.
“He’s smart,” Covington said, stepping back. “I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what I’m talking about.”
I placed both hands on Myth’s smooth neck scales. “It’s okay, boy. You keep that up until he tells us all his secrets.” I tossed Covington a smile and caught his brows rising in alarm.
Covington, to my surprise, backed up even farther and slid the lair’s heavy stone door open with a heave, leaving only enough room for a person to slip through.
“We both need to be able to get out of the way when he flames.” Covington waved me toward the lair.
When I hesitated, he said, “You do know dragonfire is deadly? Even a little bit can kill.”
“One less annoying aristocrat to worry about.”
Covington smirked. “Is my provocation working, then?”
“You wish.” My stomach knotted, and my eyes dropped to his hands. I could still feel them on my skin.
Myth, sensing the jitters in my stomach, pranced around the courtyard in jumpy little circles. His tail knocked over an empty ceramic pot, which cracked against the brick. I gasped, which made him hop onto the back of one of the benches, but his claws splintered the wood.
“Myth! Stop breaking stuff! We’re not supposed to be here.”
He hung his head, eyeing the broken pot. Then he hopped off the bench and shot a stream of sparks toward the wood.
“Ari!” Covington wrapped his arms around me and hauled me aside as I shouted, “Wait!”
In a breath, the bench was consumed with glowing sparks.
But the wood did not go up in flames. Instead, the sparks danced and whorled, then vanished all at once. The bench remained, and where his claws had broken the wood, there were no more marks at all.
For a moment, I stood there, Covington’s arms circling my stomach, his heart beating against my back. For a moment, he didn’t let go.
When the smoke stopped rising from the bench, we broke apart and raced forward. I didn’t say anything, and he didn’t either, about the way he’d pulled me away from danger. But as I moved, the heat of his arms around me lingered.
I hovered over the bench, afraid to touch it, afraid to look away. The wood was unmarred, and there was not a touch of black scarring from the places the sparks had fizzled against the wood.
Behind me, Rush’s presence loomed.
“Saints,” he whispered.
I glanced up at Myth, who snorted proudly at me. “What did you do?” To Rush, I said, “That was…”
“Magic,” his word was not directed at me, but at Myth.
We stared, shoulder to shoulder, at the bench.
Then, “Ari.” His voice was deep, a warning.
“I know.”
It suddenly made sense.
To steady myself, I placed a hand on Rush’s arm. “Their flame…”
“Yes.”
“It’s…” I trailed off, unable to say it, barely able to comprehend it.
“Yes.”
“How long have you known?” I asked, turning toward him, hand falling from his arm.
“It was just a theory. Until now.” His eyes blazed. “I had no way to test the theory. No dragon with its flame. Until him.”
I chewed on my lip and his words. Then, slowly, I backed away nodding. It finally made sense, why he wanted to keep Myth’s fire a secret. Why he wanted to test it.
“Ari.” He reached for me, but I pulled my arm out of the way.
I hurried toward Myth, putting a reassuring hand on his side.
“Ari, look at me.”
My eyes drifted toward Rush, then to the roof of his townhouse, to the stars above.
“There’s a reason every dragon has its flame duct severed at birth. It isn’t because we can’t bond with dragons who keep their flame. You’ve proven that.” He lifted a hand toward Myth. “And it isn’t because dragonfire can kill us, even though it can. It’s because of this.”
I finally met his gaze, but my chest was caving in, the weight of his words crushing me.
He stepped closer. “It’s what I’ve been doing all year. Hunting for answers. And now I know.” He carefully touched my shoulder, and when I didn’t jerk away, he stepped even closer. “You and I know what an entire culture, an entire empire, has tried to erase from history.”
My brows rose. “Empire?”
“The most powerful group in this kingdom isn’t the queen or her parliament. It’s my father’s empire.”
“Your father is an emperor? And a duke?”
Rush shook his head, his hair falling across his brow. “That’s just the name of his organization. His syndicate. They call themselves the Archivists, but few people know that name. Most people who know they exist call them the Empire.”
I furrowed my brow, angry. “Archivists? They bury the truth.”
“They bury more than truth, Ari.” His eyes were wild, uncontrolled, almost feral. “They kill everyone who uncovers their secrets.”
I turned, slowly, to face Myth. “What now? He’ll never be safe.”
“Neither will we when they find out what we know.”
Glancing back at Rush, I said, “I’m afraid for him. Is your father coming to Cardan Lott for the end-of-term dinner tomorrow?” The parents were all invited, and even Fairfax was planning to attend. To try to get information from me, no doubt. Information I didn’t have yet.
Rush rubbed his face. “I don’t know. He doesn’t often tell me his plans. You can keep Myth here tonight, just in case. He won’t be missed tomorrow. My father certainly won’t come here; neither will the Hunt. He’ll be safe.”
I nodded. Our midterm exam with Bryce had been to complete a series of simple commands on dragonback. He’d tested two riders per day, and Myth and I had ridden today. “And us? What do we do now?”
“We try not to die.”