Twenty Five
Alara
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Tofa says, as we sit in camp, and I smile lightly, meeting her eyes.
It’s been four days now since I’ve been back at camp.
My body is healing well, as it always does. The healing salve that was given to us also sped up the process, though the burn on my side is taking longer.
My throat still hurts from all the screaming I did, my whole body hurts. It’s always like this. The physical healing, the pain persisting, but it’s getting better.
Tofa has been helping daily, Adora too, even though she spends most of her time in the healer’s tent with Olaf.
Rohan has hardly left my side either, helping me through the nightmares when I wake in the night, sweat dripping from my body as Emerish haunts me. He soothes me until I fall back to sleep, his large body surrounding me.
I eventually gathered the courage to finally ask Rohan how we got out of that cell and he told me he made a deal with Emerish.
Convince the king to let us go back to the clan with healing supplies, and to never touch me again or we will tell Halen what Emerish has hidden from him all this time.
That he’s had elves in the city. Emerish tried to argue, laugh at Rohan, but when Declan came, and Rohan said he had something to tell him, Emerish conceded.
Rohan wants to kill Emerish, yet instead of doing so in the cell he made a deal with him.
And nothing good ever comes from a deal it seems.
I still can’t believe Emerish is here, and so close with the king. I never knew. All this time I thought he was just some seedy man, but he’s a lord.
I rub my hands on my thighs then feel the dagger at my uninjured hip. The mighty Dragonbond has gotten me so many and has been showing me how to hide them, but even the thought of using it, like I did with that man in the Wilds, the one I killed, makes me want to run away and hide.
But he said under no circumstances will I go without one, and I have to be okay with the fact that I may have to use it.
“The next game should be soon,” Beau says, and the mood shifts instantly, more somber around the campfire.
“Yeah,” I sigh as I take another chunk of bread.
“Have you been to see the dragons today?” Tofa asks. “Calian’s been feeding them, but I don’t think he likes to go there and see them that way.”
I nod. “It’s beyond cruel to put them in muzzles.”
“Do we think we can get them off?” Beau asks.
“With the guards watching with Nighturn, I’m not sure we can. And even if we could, what could they do? They can’t burn their way out of here.”
We look up at the curved metal enclosing us all.
Tofa sighs. “It’s sad, isn’t it?”
I nod.
Beau sighs, looking across at someone. A girl from Highwing is gazing back at him.
“Go to her,” Tofa says.
Beau shakes his head. “It isn’t the right time,” he says sadly. “But maybe when this is over, she could come to our clan, or I could go to hers and we can be together?”
That would be nice for him, but… “This may be the only time,” I tell him.
Beau tilts his head and takes a deep breath.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right—”
A scream coming from somewhere in camp cuts me off, and I lift a hand to my chest, stomach dropping. Heart beating frantically in my chest.
“What was that?” Tofa asks, on her feet with Beau.
The clan rushes to the left, in the scream’s direction.
“Come on.” Tofa grabs my hand and pulls me along, following the crowd. Beau at my back.
“Can you see?” I ask, hand clutching my side, pain spearing through it.
“No,” she says, stopping with the crowd as they all seem to just… freeze.
“This way.” Tofa guides us around the edge and manages to squeeze through a gap.
“Oh my Gods,” she breathes, hand on her mouth, and I step up beside her, stomach dropping.
Someone is crying next to me, holding another and I look ahead at the tent, wondering what caused such a reaction.
Then I see it.
“Maery…” Her tent is open, and she lays lifeless on the ground, blood seeping from her wrists, eyes open, dried tear tracks down her face.
“What…”
Rohan comes wading through the crowd, Adora, Kaldar and Dorkin on his heels.
“What’s going on?” His brows are furrowed, standing taller than ever, looking for danger. When he looks in the tent, he freezes.
Kaldar steps around him, goes inside and places a finger to her neck.
But we all know the truth.
She has no pulse.
How could this happen, why?
“Lykke,” Saelon says, hand over her mouth. “She couldn’t take it after they…”
“Lykke,” I mumble, confused.
Her son. The one who said he wants to be a Dragonbond one day.
“Oh Gods, Lykke,” I say to Tofa. “Where is he? He’ll be devastated.”
Lykke loves his mom so much.
“Alara…” Tofa’s voice is choked, tears in her eyes.
My heart hammers at the look on her face. “What?”
“The Games,” Beau says. “We came in third place, so we had three deaths. They take them on stage to be executed.”
“I… no.”
“Rohan, he tried to stop it, killed multiple guards, but then he was hit with Nighturn and… One of the guards chose Lykke.”
“But… but he’s just a boy.” My eyes water. “A child... He wanted to be Dragonbond. He could officially enter The Glade at fifteen, four years away. He…”
My eyes go back to the tent which is now closed.
They killed a child, and Maery, his mother, killed herself because of it.
Horror washes over me, and Rohan glances my way, shaking his head sadly and runs a hand down his face.
He feels responsible.
That it’s his fault.
“Rohan…” I take a step toward him, but for the first time, he turns away from me and makes his way through the crowd, walking toward the dragons.
“Go to him,” Tofa sniffles as Calian walks over to her. She looks over at him, but her words are for me. Maybe for all of us. “He needs you.”
“He may need some time,” Calian hedges. “The dragons have been let out of their cages for a while, I just got back from there. Let him seek them out. To calm down.”
“He doesn’t just need his dragons,” Tofa replies. “He needs her.”
“I’ll go to him.” I leave the mourning crowd, following the direction Rohan went.
The gate is already open to the dragon’s pen, and I go through, spotting him in the distance. The wind seems to follow me as I walk as fast as possible to catch up, my side pulling with every step.
I reach the dragons. They’re out of their cages just like Calian said, muzzles still in place. They lay down together, and my heart breaks at the unfinished stone beds, like they aren’t satisfied. Like they tried to bring a little bit of home here but it didn’t feel right.
I lose sight of Rohan as he walks between them.
“Alter,” I whisper when I reach him, and he whines at me. “I know.” I tell him gently, and even though my throat is still sore, gently, I hum, hoping to soothe him as he closes his eyes once more.
I continue through them, humming and stroking each one as I go, hating to see their muzzles, the metal digging into them, causing them to bleed.
I feel their pain still, but I also feel their anger nestled deep, waiting to be set free.
How I want to take them all away from here.
I carry on humming a lullaby I can’t quite remember but just know, and that’s when I spot Rohan.
“You should hum to them more,” he says softly, sitting against Drogonah. He has an arm resting on one bent knee and Escor snores next to the larger dragon, bubbles coming from his nostrils, head on his tail.
“Will it help you?” I go to Drogonah and he doesn’t pull away when I stroke his forearm, his own rhythmic purr following in sleep.
“Maybe,” Rohan says, and I go to Escor who whines in his sleep. I stroke his snout, humming for him and he too relaxes, body settling back into a dream instead of a nightmare.
I turn to Rohan and walk to him then, kneeling between his spread legs as he makes room for me.
I lift a hand and palm his face, and he nuzzles into me, grief-filled eyes closing.
“It isn’t your fault,” I tell him, and his jaw ticks. I place a finger against it, tracing it.
“I am Dragonbond, leader of this clan, everything is my fault.”
“You did everything you could have,” I stress.
He shakes his head. “I could have done more.”
“You would have gotten yourself killed.”
He sighs, looking up to the sky.
“The king is to blame for this, not you, not the clan.” I rise on my knees and place a gentle kiss to his lips, hating to see him so defeated but also appreciative that he’s letting me see him this way.
I don’t think many have.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Lykke?” I choke out.
“You’re healing, have just been in that fucking…” He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted you to focus on getting better. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
“I don’t think that worked out well last time.”
He closes his eyes but nods. “You’re right.”
“You have to tell me these things, okay?” I want to help him through it, be there with him to hold on to some of that pain.
He’s so ready to do it for me, but doesn’t he know I want to do it for him too?
“Okay,” he relents.
My hand trails down to his wrist and I bring his palm to my lips, resting my mouth against it like he does with me.
His eyes open, and the sadness in them nearly overwhelms me. I hum against his palm, and he takes a deep breath, lifting his own hand to play with the end of my hair.
I don’t flinch this time.
“Can I braid it?” he asks softly, and I watch him watch me.
Without a word, I turn, sitting between his knees and he reaches for my hair, running his fingers through it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and my throat tightens.
Drogonah still has that purr going, and Escor snores softly with the others, and I sink into their warmth.
“We will get them out of here, Rohan.”
“I know.”
“Then that is what we look to, it’s all we can.”
“And many will die in the process,” he says.
They will.
“You are a good man, Rohan, and an even greater Dragonbond.” When he’s finished my braid, I turn to face him, and place a hand over his heart. “You’ll make this right. I feel it.”
“Even if it all burns.” He pauses. “If I burn it.”
“Sometimes things need to burn to start anew.”
His eyes bounce between mine and he nods.
And then a horn blares.
The next game is beginning.