Chapter 16 Skylar #2
“This is the arena,” Axel says, confirming her suspicion.
“On the day of the duel, you’ll enter a cage right here.
It will be locked with magic once you and the witch are inside—and it will only open when one of you dies.
” Skylar tries to imagine it—the cage, the duel, what it will actually entail.
But it’s like her brain won’t quite get there.
The space is enormous—the size of a city square.
It would have to be, wouldn’t it? Because it needs to fit a dragon.
Her mouth feels dry. She was supposed to be on the other side of the wall the day of the duel. Aldric had wanted them to perform for those who would inevitably crowd as close to the castle as they could, hoping to hear the distant sounds of the fight.
“We thought it might be useful,” Axel is saying, “for you to get a sense of the place.”
She says nothing, looking down the other end of the arena—to where Mjolnir is waiting, his scales a rippling gray. He takes a few heavy steps toward them, covering the distance in no time, and only then does Skylar see Zryan on his back.
There is a warning tingle down her spine, but she’s not quite sure if she’s afraid of the dragon or if she just respects what he can do.
But she remembers what he did to the guard.
One wrong move… Are you supposed to look dragons in the eye?
With cats, aren’t you supposed to blink at them to show you’re friends?
She tries that now, blinking very obviously, and is rewarded with a huff of hot air.
Like amusement. So maybe that was a stupid thing to do.
One moment Zryan is on top of Mjolnir, the next he is beside her, Teleporting down with ease. She stumbles back, then immediately grits her teeth, annoyed at herself for reacting. She bets that power comes in handy, doesn’t it?
“Can you take this from here?” Axel asks. “I need to see your father.”
“Rebel activity?” Zryan asks, his voice sharp.
Axel nods tightly. “He’s canceling the parade because of it.”
“So I’ve heard. Keep me posted, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Axel inclines his head to Zryan, then backs away. Well, good. At least she only has to deal with one of them.
“So,” Zryan says, pulling her attention to him, “you’re being sent to the island.”
She resists the urge to snap at him, at that even tone of voice, like they’re talking about being sent to the fucking shop.
“Snarling at me isn’t going to help,” Zryan says mildly.
So apparently she didn’t resist enough, then.
“Believe it or not, Skylar, I want you to win. I need you to win.” She wonders how true that is.
They don’t want to give up the Heart—that much she believes.
But if she dies before the duel… wouldn’t that be the best outcome for him?
“And,” he continues, oblivious to the direction of her thoughts, “I am one of the very few people who has experienced the island.”
“So you’re here to give me a lesson, are you? Put me through dragon school?” She says it sarcastically, although actually, come to think of it, dragon school doesn’t sound like a wholly bad idea right now.
“Well, you’re half right. You need to be taught.
And the best way to learn about dragons is through the eyes of a dragon.
It’s how I learned, and my father before me.
Each bonded dragon consents to do this only once.
I thought it would be a child of mine, but…
” A brief flicker of something passes over his face—the only clue as to how he is feeling.
He was no doubt looking forward to killing the witch, and to the power he’d take as a result.
Royals—they are all the same. She doubts the witch is any better.
Skylar folds her arms, and Zryan lets out an exasperated sigh. “Are you really this stubborn? You’d rather die than accept help?”
She contemplates him for a moment, trying to decide if she is that stubborn. She glances at Mjolnir, whose violet eyes are narrowed. Like he, too, is a bit annoyed with her. And okay, fine. She needs to try to survive, doesn’t she? For Cam, she needs to live.
“What do I have to do?” She looks between Zryan and Mjolnir, not sure who she’s supposed to be addressing here.
“You just need to open your mind.” Said as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Open my—” But she feels it then. A little like the sensation at the Blood Binding, there is something other forcing its way into her mind.
It feels like she needs to step aside to make room for it—only she’s not sure where to step.
Panic courses through her, the sense that she might be crushed under the weight of this presence.
She tries to fight it, to push it off. Her vision grows cloudy. She smells rain clouds and feels electricity dance along her scales. Her skin. Fuck. She pushes, her mind expanding as it fights in its desire not to be lost.
Stop.
It’s his voice. Thunder embodied.
Breathe.
A breath shudders through her and she feels herself settle, just a little. Feels his mind take over even more of hers, as the essence of her scrambles to the corners.
Good.
Is this what it feels like to be bonded? she wonders.
Not quite. But we are fortunate. It seems our minds are… compatible.
So you can hear me, then. Good to know. And good to know she can speak back, too. Easier than she thought it would be. Do all dragons share minds like this with their riders?
Only when we need to impart knowledge quickly.
She doesn’t get any more clarity on the subject before his mind bends hers to his will.
Then she is somewhere else. The world looks different—up close, it is brighter, like she can see every individual particle that makes up the blue sky.
But if she tries to look farther away, everything is obscured, so that she can only make out vague shapes and color.
She is somewhere high, she knows that, and the air is warm on her scales.
Your skin. You must remember who you are.
But she can’t even figure out where she is in relation to the land around her, so remembering who—and what—she is isn’t exactly easy right now.
We are on the island—but I cannot show it to you as you will see it. Part of the trial is in navigating it for the first time unseen.
So that’s why it’s all… blurry. He makes a kind of huff sound— a laugh? Can dragons laugh?
There is a noise behind her, and she turns in the air to see a blue dragon swooping down over the ocean. Water rises to meet it, and the dragon snaps at the waves it makes, like it’s playing with them.
A water dragon, Skylar thinks.
Correct. One of the three Elemental Dynasties.
So it’s true, then? There are no Earth dragons?
There is a rumble again. That is a myth, nothing more. Earth dragons have never flown among us, despite what some may theorize.
So there are really only two Elementals—wind and water. Because the egg is all that remains of the Fire Dynasty.
Another dragon comes into view. A black dragon, bringing darkness and shadow in its wake.
A Lunar Celestial, Mjolnir says, with command of shadows and smoke that is poison to the touch. One to stay away from, if you can help it. Skylar watches the dragon whip through darkness, but she finds herself wondering about the errant Lunar Celestial, rumored to be flying around Vatra.
Are any dragons missing from the island?
A growl. She senses what she thought was offensive, somehow. Dragons come and go as they please. We choose to stay on the island—unless we find a rider.
It doesn’t totally answer her question, but… Why do dragons bond with riders?
We grow stronger, with the bond. We can draw more power, to defend and to protect. And when you die, your power flows to us—and stays with us until the end.
Ah. It’s about all Skylar can manage—the idea of her life force, flowing to a dragon once she dies…
It is weird, to say the least. But energy has to go somewhere, right?
At least that explains a little more why dragons bother with the royals.
But if that’s true—if it’s all about power, then…
Why only the royals? Why not bond with anyone Blooded?
It has been that way since Cuatra chose the first dragon rider. And riders must withstand a test—we cannot choose just anyone. If only one family comes to the island, then only they can be tested.
So is it the royals controlling that—not the dragons? An interesting idea.
Do riders get stronger, too?
Over time, yes. We amplify your natural Blooded ability. But we cannot create power where there is none.
Abruptly, Mjolnir lets go of her mind and Skylar finds herself sucking in air, trying not to topple over where she stands.
Her own thoughts and feelings seem to scrabble back into her brain, making her whole again.
She’s not sure she likes it, the way his mind felt, pressing into hers.
But then, she’s not sure she didn’t like it, either.
Zryan glances at her, briefly assessing, then looks back to Mjolnir. “Will it affect her bonding, the fact that she shows no power?”
No emotion there, just straight to the point.
She remembers her mother’s lyrical voice, sad and firm at the same time. You are not Blooded, Skylar.
I do not know. I can’t speak for the whole of my species.
“But if no one bonds with me, they’ll still let me off the island, right?”
Mjolnir gives what can only be described as a dragon shrug. Fantastic. Really confidence inspiring.
“I’m an heir, though.” It feels odd to say it out loud.
“Not all heirs come home with a dragon,” Zryan says bluntly. And the subtext is clear. Not all come home at all.
“How will I know? If a dragon chooses me?”
They will find you, Mjolnir says into her mind—and only her mind, apparently, because Zryan says at the same time, “You’ll feel it—the pull.”
Mjolnir studies her for another beat. I think many dragons will come out for you. They will be curious about the heir who was not supposed to be. Skylar doesn’t love the sound of that. She imagines a cat, batting at things it’s curious about.
“And given that,” Zryan picks up, “you need to be prepared. The dragons will test you, on the island—it’s how they decide if you are worthy.
And defending yourself against dragon powers is a bit like defending yourself against strong Blooded powers.
” He glances toward the edge of the arena, where there is now a group of hooded people making their way over.
“Luckily, we’ve got some help in that department, courtesy of my mother. ”
They’re the same people who surrounded the queen at the binding ceremony, Skylar realizes. The Blood Wielder, Flame Thrower, and Arach knows what else. Her fucking menagerie.
As the hooded people close in on them, Zryan nods to the Flame Thrower, who steps forward.
Skylar eyes the man warily. “I thought we established fire dragons were extinct.”
“They might not be able to shoot fire,” Zryan says, “but, trust me, what they can do is worse.”
She glances at Zryan. “What do you want me to do, exactly?”
Zryan’s lip curls. “Survive.”
There is a flash of fire. And Skylar does the only sensible thing she can think of.
She runs.