Forty Five
Alara
“Game four is upon us!” King Halen announces from his balcony, arms spread wide. “We’re nearly at the end, and what an end it will be! Who will live, who will die, and more importantly, who will win?”
The crowd cheers so loud that goosebumps pepper my skin.
The king’s family are all in attendance, Ivara and Niyah are also here. I have to try and not look at her too long, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. But when I first sat down, she grabbed my hand discretely, giving me a gentle squeeze before she let go.
I hold that hand now in my lap, feeling that familiarity.
The lords and ladies are in the section over from us, and I look that way tentatively, scanning for Emerish and my shoulders sag with relief that he isn’t there.
But he’s in the crowd.
I watch him on the lower levels, biting my tongue so hard I draw blood.
He laughs with other people, a woman at his back writing down what I assume are betting notes.
Emerish is all smiles and cheerfulness down there, not a single one of them knowing the evil that lurks beneath. What he hides in the underground.
I hope you’re safe, Effy.
“Isn’t this exciting!” the king shouts, and my attention drifts away from that monster.
I look down to the sands, the clans once again lined up and waiting in sections on the outsides, the Dragonbonds at the front, masks in place.
I spot Tofa, Beau, and Calian huddled together, and then Kaldar, Adora and Dorkin behind Rohan.
Further back, Nora’s with Melle, her little face hidden in her mother’s neck.
I swallow roughly.
She shouldn’t be here.
In the middle, large cloths cover random spots, a guard stationed at each one. Above them, wooden platforms start at the north side, and move up like a hanging spiral stairway, tied with chains from the metal beams above.
They circle the Enclave with enough space between them that they could be jumped across if you’re careful. Then, in the very center, high above is a stone-like structure, five cages holding smaller, frightened and angry dragons from the cavern.
My fingers curl in my palms.
Each one has multiple clan colored ribbons attached to the bars.
“Now, are we ready for Spiked Descent?” Halen roars to the crowd.
The shouts and screams make me wince, and my heart begins to hammer in my chest when the king flicks a hand.
The guards below start to remove the cloths.
“The rules are simple. Seven people from each clan must climb up to the top and take their colored ribbon from the cages. The clan with the most ribbons, wins first place. But of course… you can retrieve them by any means necessary.”
The cloths are removed and pits are uncovered, filled with deadly sharp spikes.
I look from them to the platforms above.
If someone were to fall off, not only would they have the ground to contend with… they have these spiked pits.
“Now, Dragonbonds… choose wisely.”
My fingers curl into the fabric of another dress I was ordered to wear.
They have to choose who will die, again.
I grit my teeth as I watch them turn to their clans, deciding which members to choose.
“So, who are you picking to win?” Savron asks.
“Highwing,” Nathanial answers. “She has grit.”
Violetta claps her hands. “I want blue.”
“I shall go with red then,” Ivara says. “Niyah?”
My sister tenses a moment, then, “Greenclaw.”
“Excellent choice” Laylah bolsters. “Ivor, are you choosing?”
“I’m not in the mood, dear,” he replies.
She huffs. “Alexandar?”
“Blackscale,” he murmurs, looking down at them all.
Savron frowns. “He will be last.” Then I feel his stare turn on me. “Well, little elf, I suppose you are voting the same?”
I look straight ahead, not answering.
I feel his anger at my silence.
“Declan, is it not time for her to do her task?” Nathanial asks, and my sister stills beside me.
“Yes, my prince.”
I tense when fingers grip my arm, and I resist for a moment, but a look from Niyah has me standing, looking down at the arena one last time before following Declan through the door. Then we port.
“Time is running out, elf, better give the king something before he has your head.”
He smirks at me and then pushes me through the door.
I barely catch myself on the steps, heart beating wildly, palms stinging.
I don’t want to fall down them. It may very well snap my neck.
I slowly gather myself and make my way to the dragons, wondering who was chosen for the game.
Either way, I know when I next emerge from down here, more will have died.
Gods.
I wipe a hand down my face.
All these senseless deaths just to entertain a king. A kingdom. To slowly kill off the Dragorie.
I shake my head and walk down the steps, barely looking at the dragons and making my way to the meat in the center, where it’s always placed for me now. No guards in sight.
I go about my normal routine, feeding the dragons one by one, making sure I cut it up so it can be eaten through their muzzles while endless thoughts spin through my mind.
Who is going to die?
I didn’t say goodbye to anyone.
It won’t be Rohan, will it?
One thing I don’t do, however, is hum. Nor do I speak or say hi to them. I can’t.
I feel too… angry. Powerless.
Hopeless.
I feel like I’ve lost my voice, because what’s the point in having one when it doesn’t change anything? It won’t stop them from being hurt, from dying.
I nick my finger with the knife as I cut the meat and I throw it down.
“Ugh!” My hands slap against the floor, and I hunch over, head hanging, as tears prick my eyes.
This isn’t fair.
It’s not fair.
It’s not right.
I breathe heavily, the bits of hair that have fallen out of my braid are hanging around my face.
Silence fills the space, only my heavy panting and the dragons’ breathing can be heard, and I look around, spotting some empty cages.
My heart hammers.
I hope they won’t get hurt out there.
My eyes go to the end of the cavern. I get up, a little shaky, breathing harsh as I stomp over, pulling the lever.
I stand there, body trembling, the whirl of the mechanism making my fingers twitch and when she emerges, eyes furious, teeth bared, claws already coming out… I don’t feel afraid. No, if anything, I just feel fury.
“Stop it,” I whisper, voice low.
She doesn’t. She roars and strains against her chains, making them cut into her more.
I take a step closer.
“Stop. It.”
She snarls, a small amount of green vapor curling around her mouth.
That’s what the king wants, that’s what he wants me to get more of so he can kill all the Dragorie and dragons, and she’s here, roaring in my face, wanting nothing but violence, and she has to stop.
“Enough!” I shout, breathing harshly and surprisingly, she stills.
My chest heaves as I stare into her purple eyes.
We regard each other, and for the first time since I’ve been down here, I open myself and let her emotions flow into me. Then I let mine flow into her.
I see it when they reach her. Her eyes widen just a fraction, her claws that were still scraping on the cell floor coming to a complete stop.
She can feel it all from me, and I can feel it all from her.
“I’m angry too,” I tell her, fists clenching at my sides. “But if we’re too busy being angry at each other, then the ones we truly should be angry with, win. Aren’t you tired of bad people winning?”
She growls low, her large body moving closer, sending vibrations through the ground.
“I am trying to help,” I tell her. “Trying to find a way where every dragon in this place is freed. I’m trying to help save the Dragorie clans, and I am trying to save the eggs that were stolen from The Glade by someone they trusted.”
I dare to step even closer, my hands now on the bars, her breath warming my body.
“I am trying to save those I love,” I tell her, softly, honestly. “And I need your help to do that.”
Dragons rumble behind me. It starts with one, but then the others join in, all making their own symphonies as we regard each other.
“Help me.”
She growls, but then, she moves back and tilts her head to the side, to the room where the robed woman goes.
It’s just a simple door, no fancy fixtures or engravings, but why do I feel that behind that door is everything I’ve been searching for?
Why does it feel so important?
“And you will let me?” I ask, my eyes moving back to hers. “I tried to go inside last time and you were very angry.”
She hesitates, but this time, she nods, her eerie eyes never leaving mine.
“Then I will go,” I say, taking a step back.
My pulse pounds in my ears, but when she chuffs her agreement, I walk to the inconspicuous door, my hands shaking at the handle.
After a deep breath, and reminding myself that I just stood up to a Novid dragon, a supposedly extinct dragon, I push it open.
I don’t register what I’m seeing at first, not really.
Yes, there is warm torchlight flickering around the room, yes, it’s rather warm in here compared to in the cavern, and of course, I take in the structures of the two tables lining either side, of the numerous stone circles atop them, and I note briefly the smaller cages at the back, stacked atop each other.
But I don’t really notice it until I breathe in, my lungs screaming for air as I stumble fully inside, my hand reaching out shakily to the vibrant red, the shape oval and large enough to cover my torso.
I touch it, the scales warm and I close my eyes, releasing a shaky breath.
“I found you,” I gasp to them, to myself. “I can’t believe it.”
I turn, going to the other side and touching a blue, then a green.
“Oh Morana, I’ve found them.”
And then, my heart stops altogether at a sound, my throat closing up as I turn slowly toward it.
It was a simple sound.
A very familiar sound.
It’s a purr and a rumble—a surprised one, a relieved one.
An impatient one.
My eyes land on the cages I briefly looked over, my eyes dropping down near the bottom, and there, through its bars, staring back at me with yellow eyes, is a small, red dragon I know all too well.
“Sparks.”