Fifty
Alara
“How many do we have?” Rohan asks the other Dragonbonds as I watch dragons fly overhead. All of them are out except Karag’s, but they’re keeping their distance.
“I have two,” Sigrid says.
“Three,” Varan answers.
“Durruk?” Rohan asks.
“Two.”
“And I have three,” Rohan says. “That’s ten on dragonback, far more than expected.”
“I wish we had more time,” I say, and they all turn to look at me.
“We wouldn’t even have a plan to break out if we didn’t have you,” Sigrid smiles at me. “Now we have a chance.”
“That’s right,” Varan agrees, while Durruk grunts.
My cheeks heat and I look around at the dragons. We’ve done well to get people on dragonback under the cover of night. I just hope it will be enough.
“Has Karag said anything?” Sigrid asks Varan, who shakes his head.
“Not a word. Though I haven’t seen him much.”
Varan’s tents are next to clan Firehorn, so that seems a little odd.
“We have to expect backlash from Firehorn in the Enclave,” Durruk says.
“That’s to be expected,” Rohan mutters. “Other than that, are we all ready?”
Sigrid nods. “Yes. We wait until the final game is over and then when the king sends us back to wait for the ending ceremony, that’s when we get on the dragons, kill the guards in the den and break out through the dome”
I look up at the metal trapping the dragons in.
“Will it really work?”
“Only one way to find out,” Varan shrugs.
“It’ll be worth it to try,” Sigrid says. “I don’t think the king is letting us all leave.”
“I agree,” Rohan says. “I think he will kill us all this time.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat. “And if it doesn’t work? If something goes wrong? What’s the plan?”
Rohan squeezes the back of my neck and lowers his head down to my level.
“Then we get out at all costs. No matter what, we keep on fighting until we cannot.”
Sigrid twirls her blade in her hand. “And if you can’t escape, be sure to take as many down with you as possible.”
“It really could be the end?”
Varan nods. “We will go out worthy of Morana. I won’t wait around to be slaughtered.”
They all nod, then Sigrid holds a fist out. Varan places his on top, then Durruk.
Rohan hesitates for a moment, then he joins in.
“May Morana guide us,” Rohan says.
“May Morana guide us,” They echo, and then they disperse, heading to greet their dragons.
“Come.” Rohan takes my hand and we walk down to the Blackscale dragons.
Escor comes running over, Solia and Magnus flying overhead.
I stroke Escor’s side as we walk further in, and he flutters his wings.
“Aren’t you going to fly with the others?”
He bumps me, then runs forward before taking off, his wings spreading wide.
I smile up at him, and Rohan huffs when he flies in a loop.
“Damn show-off.”
“That’s what Drogonah does with you.”
Rohan tries hard not to smile, but his lips twitch, and I feel his amusement.
“He has a ways to go before then.”
I rest my head against his arm as we walk further down toward Drogonah who is sitting up tall, watching over the others.
Agnar, Hakkon and Hedoric are all stretched out around the cages, while Blaise claws at his muzzle. Vex watches, ears low.
“Could we get them off before they break free?” I ask Rohan.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
I frown, humming as I go over to Blaise. “Shh, it’s okay. You’ll hurt yourself if you do that,” I murmur.
He whines, and I stroke his chest.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Escor lands beside them, rubbing up against Blaise’s side and they bump heads.
I turn to find Rohan talking with Drogonah, his voice too low to make out the words but the rumbles between them flow freely, and Drogonah has his head lowered, listening intently.
He flaps his large powerful wings once, shaking them out but he doesn’t take flight, not this time.
“Come with me,” I say to the dragons walking over to them. Escor as always, at my side. “I have something to tell you all.”
I look around at all the dragons, the ones in the sky landing too, after hearing my words.
“I found Sparks.”
Their emotions hit me. Relief, excitement, hesitance.
Escor’s ears perk up and Drogonah whips his head toward me. The others lower their heads, rumbling.
“He’s alive, in the cavern. We are going to get him out if it’s the last thing we do, as well as the others there.”
They all purr and grumble, and Drogonah tries his best to act all high and mighty… but he’s listening intently.
Escor purrs, his tail wrapping around my ankles.
“He’s a little scratched up and he’s lost some weight, but he’s okay.”
Drogonah walks away then, going back to his cage and laying down, with his back to us.
I frown.
“He’s processing,” Rohan says, holding my hand. “Give him time.”
I nod as all the dragons surround us, and with the warmth of Escor leaning against me, we comfort each other for a while.
And when I look over at the other clans’ dragons, they’re also out, gathered around their Dragonbonds too, holding on to the precious moments that they may not get again.
“May Elvanan watch over you all.” I say when Rohan comes to my back, arms wrapped around me as we watch the dragons, neither of us wanting to leave.
Two people are sparring in the middle of camp, Rivertail and Greenhorn.
A rope is tied to their ankles, sweat beading on their bare chests as they throw punches at each other.
For some reason, a lot of us have congregated here in the center of the den, the small fires dotted around keeping us warm.
I think it’s because the final game is looming upon us, a tentative truce flows between clans, despite us being enemies in some ways.
A cheer goes up as Rivertail smashes his fist into Greenhorn’s face, a grin spreading across both their lips.
I will never understand the violence of it, but they seem to be enjoying themselves, all of them are, and I can’t begrudge them trying to find some enjoyment in this horrid place.
It may be their last.
Clan Firehorn, however, seems to be keeping to themselves since the angry woman shouted at me the other day. Karag hasn’t been seen either.
“Ewf!”
I turn on the log I’m sitting on as Melle runs over to me.
Her pants end above her ankles, and there’s dirt on her cheek, but she smiles at me anyway, eyes glinting with happiness.
“Hi,” I say as I open my arms for her.
She runs into them, her face going to my neck as Nora watches on close by.
“I hewp hand out bwed today!”
I gasp. “You did?” She nods, proud. “What a good helper you are!”
“Eys am!”
I laugh, moving some hair from out of her face. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” I say, tickling her tummy and she giggles, wriggling to escape my fingers.
I grin, my eyes looking over her shoulder and catching Rohan staring at me.
He keeps glancing between us, ignoring Dorkin next to him like he can’t look away.
My stomach swoops and I duck my head, cheeks heating at the intensity of that look.
“Now then, go on and get your tummy filled,” I tell Melle, and she hugs me one more time then runs back to Nora, her little hand holding hers.
And then my grin drops when I think of what’s going to happen at the Enclave in the last game.
If the dragons do manage to break free, what will happen to all of them? What of the members? Melle?
Warmth presses against my side as Rohan sits down next to me, hand going to the back of my neck.
“Stop thinking so hard.”
“It’s hard when we don’t know what’s to come,” I murmur.
“It is,” he agrees, fingers gently squeezing. “But for tonight, we rest, we eat, we prepare the best we can.”
I turn toward him. “Is it that easy?”
He huffs. “No, it’s not.”
His eyes meet mine and he runs the back of his fingers down my cheek.
“Easy would mean you are his. Easy would mean the deal I made stuck true, easy would have been me giving you up.” He swallows roughly. “But it’s not easy I want, it’s you. Remember that.”
My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and I take his hand, my mouth resting on his wrist.
“Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
“There is no life where I say goodbye to you,” he rasps. “In this one or the next. There never will be.”
“Rohan.”
“The fire inside of you is warm, alive, much more than a single ember now.”
I squeeze his wrist. “How do you know?”
“Because I feel it. Here.” Rohan places his hand over his heart, and my stomach swoops.
“You have so much trust in me,” I whisper.
“Of course I do,” he says instantly.
“I haven’t trusted many in my life, only Effy, but I trust you too, I hope you know that.”
His eyes shut for a moment, and I feel his relief swirl around me.
“You’re sure?” he asks, eyes open now, locking with mine, and I tell him the truth of it, make him feel it.
“I have never been more sure of anything.”
He pulls me to him, forehead against mine and we stare at one another, enjoying the intimacy of it, of being close.
“Just one thing,” I tell him, as his arm comes around me, holding me close.
“Just one thing.”
We remain locked in the embrace as we watch the clans around us. The fights, the laughter, the loud talking.
It’s a disguise of course, to shield all of our hurt, but it’s what is getting us through now, and we can’t begrudge anyone for that.
I spot Melle with Nora, Bellamy sitting down beside them and passing them some bread. Melle smiles up at him with a look that could only be adoration. Further down, Dorkin is beside a fire, parchment in hand as Sigrid runs her fingers up his arm. He freezes, looking like a rabbit caught in a trap.
Further back in the darkness, Adora sits with Olaf, whose head is on her shoulder. Kaldar sits on his other side, arms around them both while another man sits on the ground before them.
Beau is close to the Highwing clan, standing with a girl, his cheeks tinged red when she smiles up at him. Tofa and Calian, the older man holding the tops of her arms while her lower lip trembles with whatever he’s saying.
Fiona and Agnis seem to be sorting tunics, and others are stacking pots to wash in the river later. Others dance in a circle with no music, only one of the heart.
So much life to live, so much life that could be over by tomorrow night.
I lean into Rohan more, soaking in his warmth as he rests his chin on the top of my head.
We needed this moment, all of us.
The Dragorie may pride themselves on strength, but I’ve figured out what they are to their core.
A family.
The bonds that flow between them, their instinct to protect one another, that is who the Dragorie are—not bloodied and brutal beasts, but fierce protectors of their people and dragons.
Dracozar couldn’t be more wrong about them.
When I was thrown into The Pit, ready to die, if I had succeeded, I would never have felt this sense of family with clan Blackscale. Never found friendship, never found bonds that are meaningful.
I sit back and look at Rohan, at my braids still in his hair.
And I would have never found love.
And as I sit here, warm in his arms, I realize that it was all worth it to me, no matter what is to come.
If it meant I ended up here, with them, with the dragons, with him, I would have been thrown into that Pit many times over.
Because even if it was hard, even if I was terrified, even if it hurt, it took me to him.
My fire.
My protector.
My one thing.
We leave late into the night, and the moment we reach our bed of furs, we waste no time joining as one.
It’s slow, desperate, our bodies sweaty and shaking, words unspoken. Communicating with how we touch, how we kiss.
We don’t stop, can’t stop. The need to be joined outweighs our tired bodies during the night as we wake for more.
Because we may never have it again.
“Rohan.” I gasp against his lips, his hips rolling into me at such a delicious pace, it makes my thighs tighten around him.
“I’m here,” he says, one hand holding the back of my head, the other at my hip. “I’m here.”
We come together in a slow release, his soft kisses tracing over my face as my hands go to his back, holding him close.
And for the final time that night, still connected after I refuse to let him pull away, we fall asleep holding each other close, a thorn protecting its rose, hoping we get to have this again one day.
The horn blares for the final time in the early hours of the morning.
The last game is here.