Chapter 20
A few hours later, I’ve changed out of my gold armor and into my well-worn, comfortable black leather riding clothes. Isavelle is still wearing her coronation dress, though she’s taken off the heavy ceremonial crown. Like me, she’ll only wear it rarely on important occasions. Down here at the dragongrounds it’s unnecessary.
As we stand by Scourge discussing the event that’s about to begin, Esmeral is preening and rubbing against Isavelle, trilling and chirruping with pride that her rider is the newly crowned Queen of Maledin. Isavelle breaks off what she was saying, laughs, and wraps her arm around the little dragon.
“She’s proud of me, and she’s so excited to watch you and her mate in this event,” Isavelle tells me with a huge smile, though I could have guessed it from Esmeral’s behavior. “She wishes you both clear skies.”
“I thank you, Esmeral,” I tell her with a courteous nod and smile.
Esmeral looks up at her mate and calls to him. The sky over us darkens as Scourge lowers his massive head toward here. The two dragons press their brows together, and they close their eyes for a moment.
Isavelle pulls a ribbon from her hair, and it flutters in her fingers. “May I tie my favor around your arm, my king?”
Surprised, I watch as she ties the thin band of gold around my bicep, leaving the two ends fluttering in the breeze.
“Now all may know who the queen favors in this event. May the best rider win.”
“Is this a human tradition?” I ask.
“It is. All the young men of my village hope to wear a girl’s ribbon during the festival games…” She trails off, and her smile fades as something catches her eye.
Kane walks by, and tied around his upper arm over his black witchfinder uniform is a pale green ribbon. I’m not certain, but it resembles the hair ribbons that Ravenna wears.
“Did Ravenna…?” I begin to ask.
Isavelle frowns, and shakes her head. “Ravenna dropped a ribbon the day he returned to Lenhale, and he picked it up. That’s not how the tradition is supposed to work.”
I look around for Ravenna, and see her standing at the edge of the dragongrounds among the hundreds of excited onlookers. From her dress pocket she draws a streamer on a stick and it flutters in the breeze. Many of the onlookers are waving such streamers in the air, a lot of them red and black for Scourge and myself, and some of them turquoise and gold for Isavelle, though she’s not competing in this event. It is her coronation day so it seems they have decided to show their support and love for the new queen. Ravenna’s streamers are white and blue. She’s supporting her one-time rescuer and the man Kane most hates. A fated Omega flying another Alpha’s colors. I would hurl myself from a clifftop if Isavelle ever did such a thing.
I scoop Isavelle into my arms with a groan as I imagine it too vividly, and I bury my face in her nape.
“Does it worry you to see Ravenna goading Kane like this?” she asks me.
“No, but I’m imagining how I would feel if that was us. I think I would die.”
Isavelle is watching everyone around us. “Kane looks like he’s about to explode into a million furious pieces. Auryn is looking at Nilak like he wants to rip her wings off. I hope this event doesn’t turn nasty.”
It’s probably going to turn nasty. Thankfully Kane is outnumbered, even with the support of three dragons and riders from his flare. I haven’t had the time to pay much attention to the riders and dragons Kane brought to Lenhale, but I want a closer look at them before the event begins.
I put my hand on Isavelle’s shoulder and point up toward the castle. “The best place to watch this event will be those battlements. From there you will be able to see the dragongrounds and the lake. The event will start very soon.”
“I will be cheering for you and Scourge with all the breath in my lungs,” she tells me with an excited smile.
I press a kiss to Isavelle’s lips, and watch her for a moment as she joins her bodyguards and then heads up to the castle. Esmeral gives Scourge’s flank one last affectionate headbutt and then flies up to the place on the battlements that I indicated so that she may watch the event with her rider.
I look around for Stesha. Nilak is easy to spot. She isn’t far away, and she has her proud, fierce head raised as she glares at Auryn. I join Stesha’s side and find him polishing Nilak’s talons with a soft, fuzzy cloth. His mood seems buoyant, and he greets me with a friendly nod.
“The Five Tethers event,” Stesha says with satisfaction. “Those feral dragons may as well go home now. We’ll destroy them.”
“Don’t be overconfident,” I warn him. “And this is a friendly competition. We’re not here to destroy anyone.”
The dragonmaster gives me a sharp look. “You needn’t be the fair and even-handed King of Maledin around me. You are fighting to win your queen’s favor and the respect of your people. The Five Tethers event favors dragons and riders with strong bonds, not whelps who are being carted around as their dragons’ next snacks.”
“All right. We’re going to beat them.”
Stesha nods, pulling on his pale leather riding gloves. “We are. And I’m going to beat you.”
“We’ll see about that. By the way, did you see that Ravenna is bearing a dragon’s colors?”
Stesha folds his polishing cloth and puts it in his pocket. “Let me guess. Not yellow and black, but blue and white.”
“Do you mind?”
“She already made it clear that she’s using me to irritate her mate.”
“She’s put a target on your back.”
“The strongest Alpha always assumes that the lesser dragons and riders will attempt to unseat him from the top of the pack. You should know that. But then again, it’s probably not something you’ve ever had to worry about.”
I roll my eyes. “No, I never considered that anyone might challenge me for my place. I’m only the King of Maledin.”
“Ah, well, you didn’t earn that place or fight to keep it. It fell into your lap. Hardly the same thing as Nilak and I being at the top of the flare.”
“What a prick you are sometimes. I can’t believe you’re my best friend.”
Stesha turns sharply toward me, his expression astonished.
“What, you didn’t know?” I ask.
His expression grows somber. “It’s been a long time since I called anyone friend. I’m not accustomed to it.”
I haven’t called anyone a friend since Onderz took his own life. Stesha’s closest friend was Zenevieve’s father. Both those men are dead now.
Stesha extends his hand and clasps my wrists. “Favorable winds and clear skies to you, friend.”
I clasp him back. “And to you, Stesha. Listen, that’s the Temple Crone calling the riders together to explain the event.”
We make our way through the dragons to where a handful of Hratha’len are waiting to address the riders, and we stand side by side with our arms folded. Stesha and I are taller than all the Lenhale riders by almost a head. Of the riders of the wild flare, Kane is our size, and so are the three strangers he’s brought with them. All Alphas, by the looks of them. I don’t have time to examine them closely before the Temple Crone speaks.
“Seventeen dragonriders have entered the Five Tethers event, which will test your speed, endurance, intelligence, and above all, your bond with your dragon. It is an air and water event. For those of you less familiar with your mounts, dragons are reluctant to enter the water while carrying their rider. Even wild dragons have this instinct, though they may not be aware of it yet.” Her gaze lingers on Kane and his three companions. All their expressions are stony. “The first part of the event occurs while on the ground, and if you remove your blindfold before you are airborne, you will be disqualified. If you dismount or are unseated before the end of the race, you will be disqualified. If your dragon alights on the ground, a cliff, or any other surface, you will be disqualified. This is a contact event, and you may hinder a rival dragon with the use of tethers grasped in teeth, but if your dragon touches another dragon with anything but their tail or wingtips, you will be disqualified.”
Wingtips touching or brushing another dragon is difficult to avoid when flying closely together, and it’s usually harmless. A dragon sometimes swipes at another flying too close behind them with their tail. Normally I’d feel confident that no riders would purposefully let their dragons do more than that, but with a rival flare competing, everyone feels tense and defensive.
The Temple Crone must feel the same way, as she glares hard at every rider as she continues. “My Temple Mothers are stationed along the route, and they will sound off with their horns if they see anyone breaking these rules. At the end of the race, these banners will be reordered from first to last place.” She points to a high part of the castle where banners are flying for all seventeen riders.
Kane makes an angry sound in the back of his throat. “We know we’re not welcome here. How can we expect your hags to be fair-minded about who’s breaking the rules?”
“Already whining?” Stesha asks him.
The Temple Crone fixes Kane with a chilly expression. “The Hratha’len are loyal to dragons. All dragons. The safety of your mounts comes first. This is not war. This is a celebration. You are all welcome in Lenhale, but anyone breaking the rules will be penalized. If you continue to flout the rules, you will not be allowed to compete.”
Kane makes no reply, but it’s clear that he doesn’t agree with the Temple Crone. For him, this is war.
I watch the strangers with folded arms. “May we know your names?”
The men’s ragged clothing suggests that they’re miners or blacksmiths, as many men are in the eastern edges of Maledin, and they’re all big and heavily built.
“Robein, rider of Auriana,” says a tall, flinty-eyed man with a beard.
Another man who looks like he could be Robein’s brother says, “Corin, rider of Aurissa.” Both men have yellow-gold hair, and I guess that these two ride Auryn’s bad-tempered sisters.
A red-haired man with golden eyes says, “My name is Rhan, and I ride Ragdyn.”
Not far from Auryn, and about a hundred feet away from where we stand, the enormous scarlet dragon lifts his head. He’s almost as big as Scourge and Auryn, and his crest is viciously spiked.
“Clear skies to you and your dragons,” Stesha says, his tone neutral as he wishes them good luck. While he might speak of crushing them in private to me, his behavior is scrupulous in front of the other dragonriders.
“We don’t need luck,” Kane replies.
“If you say so, Kane.”
Temple Mothers pass out blindfolds to be worn for the first part of the event, and once I take mine, I head back to Scourge, clasping wrists with my fellow riders and murmuring words of good luck as I go.
When I reach Stesha, I pull him close and say in a low voice, “Make sure you keep them off your tail. Those dragons will be vicious if they get the chance.”
“Nilak can take care of herself. If they get too close, those idiots will feel the sting of her tail.”
Scourge is standing as still as stone when I reach him, his red eyes narrowed. I can feel the focus and determination rolling off him in waves. As when we head into battle, it’s just him and me once I’m mounted, only this time, instead of protecting others, we’re working hard to prove ourselves and win the favor of our mates.
I climb up into the saddle and pull the blindfold over my face, and the world disappears in darkness. Yet I still have a sense of the world thanks to my connection with Scourge. It comes in flashes while Scourge is at rest, and the flashes are bright and clear, thanks to our strong bond.
As I wait with my palms resting on my thighs, I hear the grumble of an unfamiliar voice that must belong to one of the new Alphas.
“I don’t like not being able to see. They could be up to something.”
Kane’s voice cracks like a whip. “Hold your tongue and remember your orders.”
My brows draw together. Orders? What orders? The temptation to rip off my blindfold and see what they’re up to is greater than ever. Only the knowledge that I’ll be instantly disqualified if I do keeps me from giving in to the impulse.
Scourge’s mind prods mine, reminding me that he’s keeping an eye on everything even though I can’t, and I make myself relax. Through his eyes, I see a flash of the newcomers sitting atop their dragons and wearing blindfolds.
It takes some time to prepare seventeen dragons for the Five Tethers event because there are, as the name suggests, five tethers securing each dragon to the ground, and each of them must be lashed to a peg that is hammered into the ground. I hear the tap tap tap of mallets against metal pegs all around me as the Temple Mothers work.
Through our shared connection, Scourge shows me where each of the tethers has been attached to his saddle. His anticipation is making him restless, but he’s careful to communicate as clearly as possible, which is difficult for anyone, dragon or human, and consumes a lot of energy.
Finally, a horn blares to signify the beginning of the event, and still blindfolded, I lunge for the first tether. Scourge accurately shows me where the Hratha’len woman clipped it to his saddle. I seize it, and it takes me just a moment to release the catch. The tether doesn’t fall away. It’s unlooped, and it will catch on the saddle and stream behind Scourge once we take to the skies. The reason why will become apparent if we don’t keep out of reach of the other dragons, and the only way for us to do that is for me to be fast right now. I hook my foot into a leather strap and fall forward from the saddle until I’m hanging upside down, and I can unfasten the second tether. With a swing of my body, I reach the third.
All around me, I can hear grunts of effort and curses but no beating wings yet. I haul myself back up Scourge’s side and allow my body to drop down his other side in search of the final two tethers.
I unloop them, and when I’m upright once more and Scourge feels that I’m safely in the saddle, he spreads his wings and takes off. I tear off my blindfold, and I see that Scourge and I are the first into the sky. My heart thumps with triumph. There are other dragons not far behind us. Stesha is soon in the sky, and so is Sundra, followed by Verdun, Omaira, and, to my shock, all four of the wild dragons. Stesha’s expression hardens when he sees me and Scourge ahead of him and Nilak, and he lowers himself over Nilak’s neck so she may gain speed.
I turn and face forward. It’s tempting to crane around and keep checking to see if anyone is gaining on us, but no one won anything that way. Though I can sense half a dozen dragons at my back, I look straight ahead toward victory.
We arrow away from the castle and toward Lake Yondor, which is a gleaming, blue-gray expanse toward the horizon that’s getting larger by the second. Those watching the race will be able to make out the dragons as we dive into the freezing waters. There are dots of red at the waterline that are the Temple Mothers keeping watch on the race.
Scourge and I are still in the lead, and I’m feeling confident when I hear a dragon scream behind us. The shriek sounds familiar, though I don’t know who it is. Scourge knows, and he tells me. Omaira .
The raspberry pink Beta dragon. Her shriek is followed by a dragon’s roar of victory, followed by a cruel laugh. Kane’s laugh, and he’s alarmingly close. Omaira was not far behind me, but now she’s tumbling toward the ground, one of her taloned feet tangled in a tether. She manages to right herself after a moment, but instead of rejoining the race, she circles sadly toward the ground.
Behind me, Kane and Auryn are in pursuit, their black eyes fixed upon my back. The tethers streaming behind Scourge must be flapping enticingly in the golden dragon’s face. If Auryn manages to get hold of the tethers, he’ll slow us down, and Nilak, who is gaining on us, will take the lead.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Robein and Corin on Auriana and Aurissa veer toward Nilak. There’s a snapping sound behind me, and Scourge grunts in surprise and irritation. Stesha can worry about Nilak. I have to keep my focus on my own dragon.
We reach the lake and skim across the smooth, reflective surface. There’s no resistance in Scourge’s mind. He’ll dive as deep as he needs to go while I hold my breath and grip the saddle.
Just behind us, Auryn snorts in confusion. I imagine that a talon or a wingtip has brushed the surface of the water, and he’s confused about how he’s meant to enter the water with his rider on his back.
Scourge and I plunge into the icy lake. No doubt when we surface, Auryn will be flying in confused circles, still reluctant to enter the water.
The freezing water slaps me in the face and chills me to the bone. I close my eyes briefly, but force them open again, and search for a telltale streak of black and red. The Temple Mothers have hidden a flag for every dragon on the lake bed.
I’m beginning to think we’ll have to breach the surface and come down for a second try, but Scourge has spotted the flag floating among the waterweeds. He banks in the water, and I stretch my fingers out and grab it.
We burst into the air, and I’m clutching the dripping flag in my hand, but the sight that greets me is shocking. A hundred feet away, a wet and dripping Nilak is screaming in pain. Auriana has a death grip on Nilak’s tethers and Aurissa has latched onto Nilak’s tail with her teeth. Nilak’s crimson blood is streaming over her snout. Stesha has a white and blue flag clutched in his fist, and it seems as though Nilak broke the surface only to be ambushed by the two wild dragons.
“Call off your dragons, you fucks!” Stesha bellows at them, half turned in the saddle. “Call them off or I’ll kill you.”
The Temple Mothers are blowing the horns again and again to signal that Robein and Corin are disqualified, but they’re being roundly ignored.
I draw in a deep breath to shout at Robein and Corin, and Scourge veers toward them. A large shape looms on my right, and suddenly my vision is filled with yellow scales. Auryn crashes into Scourge, and I’m flung out of the saddle. I plunge toward the water, still with the flag clutched in my fist, as Scourge roars in anger.
I hit the water and plunge down a dozen icy feet. I hit hard and I barely have a breath in my lungs, but I kick my legs and break the surface a moment later. My first thought is for my dragon, and I look wildly around for him. Scourge alights on the bank at the edge of the lake, looking furious but unhurt, thank the gods. A collision like that could have broken his wing.
Aurissa and Auriana have released Nilak and are heading back to the castle, as dry as a summer’s day. Auryn circles over the lake for a moment, as if undecided about getting his scales wet. Kane is gripping his saddle and staring at the water as if he’s trying to will his dragon to dive, but Auryn tosses his head in defiance and flies off after his sisters. Meanwhile, the other competitors are diving into the water, retrieving their flags, and flying as swiftly as they can toward the finish line.
I hear a flap of wings. Nilak swoops over me once, scattering me with droplets of blood, and then flies off in the direction of Lenhale. Stesha will have checked that I’m all right, and now he’s taking his dragon back to the castle so he can tend to her injuries.
Scourge makes his way around the edge of the lake, lowers his massive head, and snorts hot air into my hair. I groan and flop onto my back, one of my hands resting on his snout. What a disaster. I haven’t earned any points, and neither has Stesha. My only consolation is that the riders of the wild flare won’t get any points either. All of them will be disqualified for their attacks and collisions. They’ve shown their true colors.
I watch the rest of the competitors finish at the lake, and I’m proud to see not one of our dragons baulks at entering the water while carrying their rider. Once they’re all safely on their way back to the castle, I mount Scourge, and we fly home after them.
It hurts to see that Scourge’s banner has been taken down from the castle walls. We were disqualified from this event because I didn’t stay in the saddle. A Temple Mother is rearranging the banners in order from first to last, and one in the winning place is dark gray and violet. That’s Pavel, a quiet Beta who rides an Alpha male. I’ve always thought of him as shy, and when I see him standing by his dragon, he seems overwhelmed and slightly dazed by all the people cheering his name.
The next banner is double scarlet, and I feel my blood boil. Boos and hisses erupt from the crowd and all eyes turn to Rhan and Ragdyn. Word seems to be spreading about the behavior of the other riders from the wild flare, but he holds his chin up and stares stoically straight ahead.
I’m pleased to see that Sundra, riding Merrex, has come in third. She’s beaming and hugging her dragon, and all the soldiers of the City Guard are whooping and stomping their feet.
Not far away, Stesha is on his knees in a river of blood, packing dried marseng leaves into Nilak’s bitten tail and wrapping wet ones from a bucket around the wound. The leaves will dry quickly, staunching the blood and acting like a second skin until Nilak heals. The crystalline white dragon is standing patiently for her rider, but trembling in fury and pain.
Finally, Stesha gets to his feet and takes a long, slow look around the dragongrounds. His white riding leathers are spattered red, and both his white gloves are soaked with so much blood that they’re nearly black. He spies Robein and Corin skulking at the edge of the grounds by their dragons and stalks over to them. I can well imagine how he’s feeling. I was feverish with fear and anger when Scourge was injured by a poisoned arrow. Our dragons are our lives.
When he reaches Robein, he pulls back his fist and punches him in the face, leaving a red smear across his mouth. Robein crumples to the ground. Corin backs away, but he’s too late to avoid Stesha’s fury and gets a punch of his own. Stesha stands over both their prone bodies with his fists clenched. A cheer goes up from the crowd.
Auriana and Aurissa don’t seem to notice that their riders have been attacked. The two Alpha females are hunched together and are gazing with mistrustful eyes at the rest of the flare. They don’t seem to be enjoying the company of hostile dragons and are probably confused by the concepts of games and races . Despite the reprehensible behavior of their riders, the sight of unhappy dragons hurts my heart, and I feel sorry for them.
But I don’t feel sorry for Robein and Corin. After Stesha stalks away, Corin helps his dazed brother to his feet while blood streams from his nose.
The dragonmaster hasn’t finished dispensing his wrath, but as he approaches Kane, Auryn lowers his head and growls at the white-haired Alpha.
“Auryn, Nilak, and Scourge would all have placed if you and the numbskulls you brought with you hadn’t decided to cheat,” Stesha accuses the former witchfinder.
Kane shrugs. “Better that we all lose than you win anything.”
“That isn’t what the Dragon Games are about.”
“It is to me,” Kane replies with a smirk.
Stesha points to the unhappy Auriana and Aurissa, who are hunching even lower at the sight of the fighting Alphas. “Do you see how miserable your dragons are? I would be ashamed to call myself their dragonmaster.”
The Temple Crone has crossed the bridge onto the dragongrounds and has approached the center. Her normally watery old eyes are flinty with anger. Several dragonriders and a few soldiers shove Kane, Robein, and Corin forward to stand before her, and she surveys them coldly.
“Explain yourselves.”
Onlookers are hurrying across the bridge to the dragongrounds. A crowd is forming at our backs to hear the Temple Crone’s judgment.
Kane stands lazily before her with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “What’s there to explain? Our dragons were caught up in the excitement of the event. They didn’t understand what they were doing was wrong.”