Twenty Six
Alara
“The second game shall begin!” The king bellows, and cheers erupt, the crowd swinging their colored cloths again.
I breathe through the pounding of my heart, my eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Emerish.
I finally spot him in the royal section, scowling down at me from beside Nathanial. Alexandar and Violetta are on his other side, more lords in the back, including Ivor.
A shiver runs down my spine and I want to collapse under the weight of his slimy gaze. Instinct makes me want to run.
But then I look at Rohan where he stands in front of his clan, shoulders back, mask in place, and I force myself to stand taller.
I won’t show him how he affects me.
I won’t.
I lift a hand to the two braids Rohan put in my hair, close to my head.
Stronger together.
“The next game is Flight of Honor!” The crowd goes wild, whistling and shouting. “Clans, choose two dragons each.”
“Shit,” Tofa says from beside me. “Sigrid’s clan will win this one.”
“Because of Celeste,” I realize. She’s the fastest dragon here. A Seraphin.
I look at the board, dread sinking in my stomach.
The death tally at the end glares at me, warning me that more are to be etched upon it in harsh slashes.
My throat tightens with the knowledge that one of those lines represents Lykke, and I let a tendril of anger rise, my hands shaking with grief for the young boy and his mother.
May they meet Morana on the back of a dragon, and may Elvanan bring them peace.
“Only dragons are allowed to participate in this race.” Halen says, and bile rises in my throat. “And only one can come back.”
What?
My head snaps toward Rohan.
“Choose wisely.”
“That’s not fair,” Beau says on my other side. “They can’t just kill one of our dragons!”
The rest of the clan murmurs amongst themselves, faces full of anger and dread.
Sigrid turns and says something to Rohan who nods, and I wonder what they’re talking about when Declan suddenly appears beside me, grabbing my arm.
“Hey!” Tofa shouts, and Rohan’s head snaps my way, instantly moving toward me. “Let her go,” Tofa grabs Declan, but he pushes her away and Beau barely catches her.
Calian is there next, grabbing a hold of Declan by the shoulder, a snarl on his face. “Don’t touch her.”
I’m dragged further away as guards close in on my friends. Calian goes to Tofa, murmuring to her and Rohan charges toward me. A guard points Nighturn at him, and my stomach turns, but he doesn’t stop.
It’s only when that arrow points at me that he freezes.
“Get off her,” he growls. The guards have their swords out, the crowd chanting for a fight, for death.
“Do we need a lesson in obedience once more?” the king croons, and my heart stops for a moment.
I shake my head at Rohan. “It’s okay.”
Rohan’s eyes meet mine, and I nod.
“I’ll do as asked,” I say, and he eyes the guard pointing an arrow at me. “Rohan!” His eyes flash to mine, a tick in his jaw.
“Vow it,” he says between clenched teeth.
“I vow it.”
His nostrils flare and he nods, watching as Declan drags me away.
“The Dragorie are feisty ones, aren’t they?” the king asks the crowd. “Don’t worry, you’ll get their blood.”
Fear fills me as I’m led out of the Enclave and into a carriage, my hands squeezing together. I take deep breaths.
“Don’t say a word, elf,” Declan spits as he sits across from me, palming the handle of his sword.
I stay as still as possible, fighting the rising nausea when the driver whips the horses to move.
We ride back to the city, the cobbled path rocking the carriage side to side. People mull around their stalls and enter stores, offering anything from herbs and spices, to pastries and equipment.
I look amongst the people, hoping to get a glimpse of Effy, but soon deflate when I can’t spot her.
I hope she’s alright.
I hope I can save her.
We come to a stop in the courtyard of the castle.
Declan grabs me, opening the door and pulling me out and through the castle entrance.
It’s a blur until we reach the threshold of the familiar door to the caverns.
To the stolen dragons.
I breathe through my nose, my body shaking with remembered pain as I stare at the wood.
They’re down there, hurting, helpless.
Because of Halen.
I remember what Rohan told me. That if I make it look like I’m helping the king, I can get us more time, and he won’t hurt me for it if he believes I’m doing what he asked.
I won’t let him down.
But while I’m down here, they will be in the second game. Racing for their lives.
Only one can make it back.
I swallow the sob building as realization hits me with full force.
We’re going to lose a dragon and more people.
I wish for Blackscale to come first, because that means less deaths—but that means I hope it happens to others instead. Happens to Sigrid and her dragons.
The thought repels me, my stomach twisting. This is what The Games do. Make you wish ill intention on others to save yourself.
The twisted cruelty of it.
The perfect entertainment.
A punishment for existing.
“Nothing to say, elf?” Declan sneers, hands on his hips as he looks down at me.
Did he say something? How long was I in my head for?
He grabs my chin.
“Speak.”
“I have nothing to say,” I whisper softly, averting my eyes and ripping my chin from his grasp.
He steps closer still, eyes dragging over me. “Maybe you will scream—”
“Hurry now, I don’t want to miss the race,” King Halen says, and I jolt in surprise that he’s here, walking down the corridor. “Stand guard, Declan.”
He nods, jaw ticking. “Yes, my king.”
The door opens and the king and I make our way down the steps.
“I see you’re healing?” he says, and my hands fist at my sides.
“Don’t go quiet on me. You disobeyed me.
What did you think would happen?” He looks at me over his shoulder.
“I agreed to let you go, so when you are down here, you will do your task or it will be worse than last time.” He pauses.
“And then I’ll make you watch while I do the same to him. ”
I don’t need to ask who him is. He means Rohan.
“Now, while the race takes place, you will be here to start getting the dragon under control. If I see no progress you will be punished, understand?”
He turns to me.
“Or do I need to get Emerish to come back and watch over you?”
“N-no,” I stutter, my heart speeding up. “I will do it.”
The words are ripped from me, feeling like a betrayal as we enter the door at the bottom.
“Good. You will also work with the younger ones to get them harnessed and saddled, but the hanging bitch is your priority.”
Saddled?
I swallow, and he turns to walk back up the steps before stopping.
“Oh, and don’t try to escape, the door will be locked and there are guards in the back rooms, and in the tunnel. I have no qualms about leaving you down here with them until you’re done. They do get rather lonely.”
Then he’s gone, shutting the door in his wake.
I shiver, rubbing my arms and looking around the room, my eyes going to the large cell at the end.
No dragon dangles there, but I know I’ll have to pull the lever and bring her down.
I breathe deep and close my eyes.
Pain.
Anger.
Sorrow.
Grief.
Okay. I can do this.
I go to the first cell, the one to my left, trying to see who’s within the darkness.
I don’t get a chance though, because a small burst of fire spurts out from between the bars, and I jump back, heart in my throat at the fearful growl.
“It… it’s okay,” I say shakily. Does he not have a muzzle on?
I look at the bars and they glow, but don’t melt, and I wonder how that’s possible.
But then I think back to the ones at the Enclave.
There must be some magic involved, stopping it from melting.
I try to move closer once more, and again, more fire.
Gods.
I run a trembling hand across my forehead and look around the space.
They’re all so scared, so nervous and I dread to think what they’ve been through.
Just then, the door at the back opens, and guards come in, carrying crates.
I step back, pressing myself as close to the wall as possible when they sneer at me.
They place the crate in the center, and collect a spear from the rack in a space between cells, then come back to the crate and stab into it.
Curious, I watch as they lift the spear, and I realize meat is on the end of it.
One by one, the guards stab the meat, and then go to the cell bars, and poke it through.
Dragons growl and rumble, but they take the food. Some spit fire and when one particular dragon doesn’t take the meat, the guard bangs it on the floor until the meat drops off, and then a cry of pain echoes through the space as he shoves the spear into the darkness.
Again and again.
“S-stop that!” I say, before I can stop myself, and the guard who was hurting the dragon turns, his eyes narrowing.
My chest heaves as he pulls back the spear, now dripping blood, and he storms over to me.
Oh no.
I curl in on myself, and then the tip of the spear presses into my stomach, his sneering face lowering to mine.
“You think dragons go without punishment for not behaving?”
I stay silent and he pokes me a little more. I feel the moment the tip of the spear breaks skin. I flinch, sucking in a sharp breath, my eyes squeezing shut for a moment.
“If you don’t like how we feed them,” He drops the spear. “Then go ahead and do it yourself.”
He steps back, nodding at the others and they all drop their spears, shaking their heads at me and laughing.
“Card game?” one says.
“What are we betting?” another asks.
“Coins, of course.” The one who just hurt me says.
I slump against the wall, a hand going to my stomach and I wince at the blood there.
It’s not deep by any means, but it still hurts.
I’m okay, I’ve had worse.
The dragons growl and roar in their cages, and I look at the spear and the crate.
“Well, here goes nothing,” I mumble to myself.
I pick up a spear and stab it into some meat, making a squelching sound.
Heaving it up with a grunt, I go to the first dragon that hasn’t been fed.
The spear shakes in my hand, but I manage to press it through the bars and hold it as still as possible.
Nothing happens at first, but then from the darkness, a dragon comes closer.
I gasp, dropping the spear, causing the poor thing to freeze as my hands go to my mouth.
The dragon eyes me wearily, but eventually he grabs the meat, tearing at it the best he can through a muzzle.
It’s a red one, smaller, and its face is full of raised scars, reminding me of Drogonah’s.
I blink, my eyes stinging, and then I look to the cell next to it.
Grabbing another spear, I feed another. This one’s blue, and my stomach twists when I notice he’s missing an ear, and a claw.
The next one is black, his horn missing. It looks like it’s been shorn off crudely, and my hands go to my hair for a moment.
Another blue, and another red. Another, and another, and another.
I’m panting, tears streaming down my face, with the weight of their pain pressing down on me. More than I think I can handle.
Their hunger, their wounds, their longing and desperation to fly and be free.
I sit down, my legs unable to hold me up any longer, and I wrap my arms around my legs.
I look into the darkened cages.
Is this all they’ve known?
If we’re right about Halen having them as eggs, that’s true, but what if they’d been as young as Sparks? What if they had been a little older and knew their family when they were snatched away?
I bring my knees to my chest and lay my forehead on them.
They’re just like me, aren’t they?
Snatched away so young to be used. Controlled.
But the larger one at the end.
My head snaps up to the huge cage.
It’s so cold down there.
A door opens suddenly, and a single robed figure comes out of the guards room and then into the other one the opposite side of the cage, the hood covering their face.
What’s in there? I wonder, but my eyes drift back to the end.
I get to my feet, walking over.
I look up into the cage, and I can just about make out the tips of her dark wings.
Taking a breath, I go to the leaver and pull.
The chains rattle, followed by a groan and clack of the mechanism, and then the dragon lowers.
I step back, watching as she comes into view.
Is she really a Novid dragon? An extinct dragon?
Does she have a family? Are there any more out there?
She doesn’t do anything, keeping her eyes closed, like she’s just waiting for what’s to come and hasn’t the energy to do anything else.
I sense no anger from her this time, she’s empty, numb.
I slowly walk to the cage bars, my hands landing on them.
So cold.
So cruel.
The gap between the bars is large enough for me to enter, but I only look at her.
Her belly is full of scars and new wounds, some still bleeding and I grit my teeth, anger filling me.
She doesn’t deserve this.
Neither did I.
None of them do.
No one does.
They’re born not to be trapped in cages, poked and prodded until they do as they’re told.
Like I was.
They’re born to fly and be free.
To be who they’ve always meant to be.
Like I want to be.
Slowly I sit, leaning my back against a bar, and with the need to comfort her, comfort them all… I start to hum.
It starts out softly, but slowly, it gets louder.
I hope they can feel what I’m putting into it.
My heartache at their situation, my desire to set them free.
That I’m right here with them, that I know what it’s like to be chained.
That I know what it’s like to be used.
I don’t know how long I sit there and hum, but it’s long enough for the door to the room to open.
Long enough that Declan comes and gets me.
And long enough that the hanging dragon finally opens her eyes and watches me leave.