Chapter 18
The tithe must be paid century on century. Land and Sea must remain united if the pact is to continue.
EXTRACT FROM THE LAND-SEA PACT (VAULT ARCHIVES)
The dragon shook its head, dislodging a shower of sea spray. Its scales glistened, coated in foam, as if it had sprung from the ocean itself.
A gleam of milky white eyes flashed, a moment before it opened its mouth and roared, spewing a jet of purple flame, drowning out the screams and bellows of alarm as students rushed for the exit. But the rush of bodies created a bottleneck, trapping us all.
Steam streamed from the beast’s nostrils, its slanted apertures flaring and snapping shut in rapid succession.
The beast sniffed, head swivelling as if hunting.
Searching.
My stomach grew rock hard with dark foreboding.
“The kitchens!” Clary grabbed my arm, and the creature’s head whipped our way. The milky film over its eyes snapped back, revealing bright emerald irises. It drew one deep, intentional inhalation—then froze, horizontal pupils dilating and locking onto me.
Seriously? Again? What the Fel was wrong with this place?
“Oh shit,” Dori’s voice trembled. “Run!”
We bolted across the room in the direction of the kitchens, but a wave of other students had the same idea. They cut across the chamber, inadvertently blocking us off.
They were so young. Terrified children bound to be here by an ancient covenant, and now facing a fucking dragon. There was no option but to attempt escape, their powers would be no match for this creature. Where were the Hunters?
“This way!” Benedict veered left, toward the now-clearing main exit.
The air thinned then crackled, as if whispering a warning. Instinct had me turning back toward the beast, just in time to see its throat light up, flames churning their way upward, moments from eruption.
It was about to spew.
I should have ground to a halt, should have turned and run the other way, but instead, I bolted toward Benedict. “Watch out!” I grabbed him, yanking him back toward the rest of the group, as a terrifying roar rocked the room.
Clary screamed, high-pitched and horrible, as purple flame enveloped us. But there was no smell of burned flesh. The flames raged around us, battering at the invisible force that held it at bay.
Was this me? Was I holding the flames back?
The fire dissipated with a hiss, unsated and unsatisfied.
The dragon roared and charged at us.
Instinct took over. I slammed into Benedict, using all my body weight to fling us to one side, narrowly escaping the snap of lethal teeth.
A gust of air hit us as the beast swung our way again, determination blazing in its emerald eyes, smoke billowing around it like an epic backdrop of doom.
“Ana! Benedict!” Dori shouted from the now-empty kitchen doorway.
We scrambled up and broke into a sprint toward them.
The air crackled in warning of another blast of fire.
Benedict shoved me aside, diving in the opposite direction. Heat seared my face, hot air tearing at my hair, whipping it over my shoulders as flames devoured the spot where we’d been a moment ago.
I pulled myself up, each breath a battle, and hurled myself toward the kitchen exit where Dori and Clary jumped up and down with urgency. Benedict ran parallel to me on the other side of the room.
We were almost there, but the dragon couldn’t be far behind. Like hell would I break stride to check though.
“Ana, look out!” Dori yelled.
Something hit my legs, sweeping me off my feet. I hit the ground on my back, head slamming against tile. Darkness edged my vision, but I gritted my teeth and fought against unconsciousness, forcing my unsteady limbs to sit me up.
Someone screamed my name, but the ringing in my ears overshadowed the sound.
“Ana, move! You have to—”
A primal growl rumbled around me, and something blue and scaly moved in my periphery two feet off the ground, then three. It took a moment to identify it as the dragon’s tail.
Fuck, the dragon’s tail was around me!
The acrid scent of sulphur and brimstone stung my nose, making my eyes water. I looked up through a haze of tears at the dragon, looming majestic and lethal over me.
I was trapped.
About to die a crispy fried kind of death.
Or maybe it would burn me to ash. I wasn’t afraid of the pain—there would be none, and death had only frightened me when it meant I’d be leaving Mother behind.
In truth, I’d craved the oblivion, the freedom from my shitty life, at least I’d always thought so.
But now, as I stared it in the face, there was no way I’d be going quietly. No way I’d go down without a fight.
I’d been targeted and attacked constantly since coming to Nightsbridge, and I was fucking done with it.
The heat of purpose surging through my limbs, I took a deep breath, then released my frustration and rage in a bloodcurdling roar that propelled me onto the beast’s tail and up into the air. “Agh!” I drew back my fist and punched the dragon in the face.
Crunch.
The impact reverberated up my arm, but did nothing to move the beast, which made sense because it was a fucking dragon, but a part of me had hoped that maybe… Maybe the Weave would have helped me again, twisting defense into offense.
Obviously not.
I expected retaliation. A snap of teeth, or a blast of flame to end me, but the dragon merely tipped its head to one side, horizontal pupils dilating to drink me in.
Its regard held a human-like awareness and intelligence that made my pulse quicken with unease, my skin prickling with a subliminal awareness.
I cradled my rapidly swelling hand and took a tentative step back. “Sorry?”
A blast of wet, hot steam hit my face, and my bladder twinged despite my bravado. The dragon’s lips pulled back, baring teeth as thick and long as my forearm, and the air vibrated with a snarl. Pressure filled my head. Clawing. Whispering.
“I…see…you...”
The voice slithered into my mind. Deep and resonant, the tone like rolling rubble and gravel. It burrowed, insidious, intrusive and—
“No!” a male voice boomed.
Cold water speckled my skin, jolting me free of whatever power had me in its grip. The dragon’s eyes flew wide before a powerful jet of water propelled it away from me and across the room toward the windows.
The beast twisted midair, shrieking with rage and baring its teeth at its attacker.
Vitra stood with one hand out, commanding a swirling sphere of water. His dark hair was unbound, floating about his head in a phantom breeze, and his eyes blazed neon blue.
The air fizzed with power, raising goose bumps up my arms. Power that came from Vitra, larger than life somehow as he faced off against the dragon.
There was no fear on his face, no hint of doubt as he locked gazes with the beast, if anything, he looked downright annoyed that the creature dared to be here—and boy was that sexy as fuck.
“Return!” he ordered the beast.
The dragon recoiled, its serpentine body trembling as if trying to resist the command.
I held my breath, gaze flicking between the dragon and Vitra.
Vitra spoke in a language I didn’t understand, yet something about its cadence felt familiar. A strange conviction took root—if I just focused a little harder, if I listened a little longer, then—
“Now!” Vitra thundered, done with the foreign words.
The dragon twisted toward the windows and smashed through the remaining glass panes, leaping out into the afternoon sun.
I rushed to the windows, but the dragon was gone, leaving nothing but sea foam in its wake.
Vitra appeared beside me. “It won’t be back.”
The swirling water sphere he’d been projecting was gone, and his eyes were back to their normal tawny shade. And when had he tied his hair back up?
He arched a brow when he caught me staring. “You’re in shock. It will wear off soon enough.”
Shock was an understatement. “That was a dragon. And it came out of the sea. What the hell?” My pulse throbbed hard in my throat, my voice barely a whisper. I sucked in a breath to calm my nerves. “Dragons are real?”
“Evidently.” He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, cool and collected, as if he hadn’t just jet-streamed a monster into the sea. “They’re also classified as Horrors. Ones the seafolk should have in check. We haven’t had a sea Horror attack since the Land-Sea Pact was put in place.”
“Then maybe someone should speak to them?” Dori said, joining us.
The others were close behind.
“Oh, Trinity.” Clary gently gripped my wrist, bringing my swollen hand up for all to see. “It’s broken.”
“I can’t believe you punched it in the face.” Benedict stared at me with wide, kohl-rimmed eyes. He reminded me of a marsupial I’d seen in an old picture book. I couldn’t recall its name.
“You did what?” Vitra demanded, his gaze sharpening.
“She punched the dragon,” Benedict repeated. “In the face.”
Vitra’s nostrils flared. “I would ask what you were thinking if I suspected you’d been thinking much at all. You’re lucky to be alive, Miss Onyx.”
“So everyone keeps telling me. It came for me. Directly for me. Just like the mudarks.”
“I very much doubt that the Horror leapt from the ocean specifically to accost you, more likely that you were the closest, easiest target.”
But it hadn’t been like that—I was ready to argue, but my words wilted on my lips when his long fingers curled around my wrist, branding me with pleasant heat.
“Your hand does look broken,” he said. “But Darla will have something to speed up the healing.” He canted his head, his gaze shrewd and probing. “It must hurt.”
Shit. With all the chaos, I’d forgotten to keep up my act when it came to pain. “Now that you mention it, yeah, it fucking kills. The adrenaline must be wearing off.”
“Yes,” Vitra agreed, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on my wrist tightened a fraction.
I was quick to let out a pained gasp.
“Apologies.” He released my wrist. You should get to the infirmary.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes and my pulse fluttered in my throat. Had the wrist squeeze been a test? Was he suspicious? Had he guessed the truth?
Vitra released me from his dark regard, gaze flicking to the ocean once more. “It seems that the ocean patrol needs a reminder of the terms of our agreement.”
I swallowed my sigh of relief. I wanted to keep control of when and with whom I shared the details of my curse. Having someone deduce it and corner me into revealing it wasn’t ideal. The longer I kept it to myself, the more useful it could be.
Students filtered back into the room, taking in the carnage with wide-eyed shock.
Vitra sighed and broke away from us, crossing the room toward them.
“Nothing more to see here. Get back to your classes.” He threw a look my way.
“You escaped death twice in one day. I’m not sure if that’s luck or talent—so do the wise thing and don’t test it.
” He ushered the students from the room, leaving me wondering when Selethis had shared the ratakan information with him. A little lunchtime tryst, maybe?
Pip hurried into the ruined dining hall followed by several sweeping brushes. “Everybody out. We have cleanup to do.”
Seriously? “That’s it? Cleanup? Get on with classes? We were just attacked by a water-Horror-dragon thing.”
“It almost burned me to a crisp,” Benedict said. “But you stopped it.” He was doing that wide-eyed marsupial look again.
It made me uncomfortable.
* * *
“I didn’t do anything…at least not consciously.”
“I’ve never seen a reflexive defense response like that,” Dori said. “Using the Weave, whether as an incantor or a sorcerer, always involves intent.”
“I don’t know. I have no idea how it works, or even if it’s consistent, but I’m sure that dragon was after me.”
“It attacked everyone,” Dori said. “Maybe you just pissed it off when you threw up a shield.”
“I did that after it gunned for me…” Hadn’t I? The whole incident felt like a blur now. Had I imagined the Horrors' focus on me? Did I have some kind of victim complex? It wouldn’t be surprising considering all the shit I’d been through.
“If Vitra hadn’t shown up in time…” Clary hugged herself. “The Hunters are on a recon excursion for the Carvers today. We’d have been toast.”
But the dragon hadn’t made a move to attack once it had me trapped. Not even when I punched it. Instead, it looked at me with eyes that held thoughts. Feelings. There’d been a presence in my mind. Words that I couldn’t recall now. Had the dragon been trying to communicate with me?
Clary interrupted my thoughts. “I didn’t know nagas could manipulate water like that.”
Vitra was a snake shifter? Those were rare, like one in a million rare.
“I doubt anyone does,” Dori said. “I’ve never heard of him using his power before.”
“I heard he’s a royal,” Benedict said.
“Yeah, he is,” Dori confirmed. “The last of his bloodline.”
Brooms wielded by invisible spectres converged on us, scraping broken glass into dustpans held steady by phantom hands.
“Out,” Pip snapped.
“We didn’t get any lunch,” Clary grumbled as we made our way out of the dining hall.
Our boots crunched on broken crockery as we dodged spilled spaghetti and sauce, stepping onto the scorched part of the floor where the purple flames had cracked the tiles.
How Pip was going to fix this mess was beyond me. My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d missed out on the Onyx hot pot once again. But there was a new hunger inside me now, a hunger to know more about the magnificent Tower Master with the ability to single-handedly subdue a sea dragon.