Chapter 12 #2
She rolls her eyes, while Nelly looks me up and down. “It’s beautiful.”
Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I hear a tinge of resentment in her voice, and I can’t blame her. There’s an ocean of difference between my outfit and hers, and it probably feels unfair.
“I didn’t choose it.” More thunder echoes outside, and I ask, “Can people even talk during the storm?”
“The early part is for food.” She points at the appetizers. “We’re supposed to eat when it rains, then dance and socialize after. They’ll bring the shutters down to protect the windows, don’t worry. And part of the guard and some recruits will leave.”
“I’m not worried. Not too much, at least.”
“Auranius hasn’t slept in a while,” Nelly says.
“He has gone without sleeping for a month before.” I turn to Celine. “Did you learn anything about it in your classes? Why Auranius’ schedule is so random? Why we can’t predict when the dragons show up?”
She shakes her head. “We just learn to always be ready, so… It’s unfortunately unpredictable.”
Thunder roars in the sky again, and the first raindrops splatter on the colorful windows.
Celine and Nelly approach one of the tables, and I take one little appetizer, a round, dry bread roll with some cheese in the middle. In truth, I’m terrified of getting this dress dirty. As I look around, I find another face that I recognize. A face with so many memories, so many promises.
Marcus is wearing a dark, elegant suit, probably from the uniform supply room, but even then, he looks dashing like I’ve never seen before.
He glances me up and down, and, for the first time, a flicker of recognition crosses his face. I smile, planning to greet him, but he sneers and turns around.
It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. It stings.
Maybe it’s fine that we were never meant to be anything special, maybe his life changed so much that there was no more room for me, but still, can’t he at least acknowledge my presence? Be polite? We don’t need to become best friends or anything.
I turn to the table and grab another little bread roll, eating it carefully not to let any crumbs fall on my dress. Thunder splits the sky outside, lightning illuminating the otherwise dim room, as the sun has been covered by gray clouds.
We’re standing somewhat close to the royal area, so when a trumpet sounds, muffled by another thunderclap, I see the king up close, entering by a side door.
Accompanying him are the princesses—and Alayel. Of course he looks breathtakingly beautiful. How could he not? When does he not? His eyes scan the multitude and stop when they meet mine.
Instead of smiling, he seems startled as if he saw a ghost—or someone he didn’t expect to be here. He looks away quickly as if he hadn’t noticed me. Odd.
Or not. Maybe he was just surprised to see me in such a beautiful dress. But it’s not what it looked like.
I turn to my friends and smile. “Look who arrived.”
If Celine noticed any look of admiration coming from Alayel, I’m sure she’ll tease me about it and end my inner argument on whether he wanted me to be here or not.
Instead, she narrows her eyes. “Your friend looks sulky today.”
“Probably busy. Or stressed,” Nelly says. “I think I would be.”
It makes sense. Again, I don’t know why I’m disappointed. It’s not that I was hoping he’d jump over the partition and hug me, or wave and say hi, but at least acknowledge me. Give me a subtle smile, maybe?
Lightning and thunder rip the sky at the same time, with such a roar that I fear it might break the castle in two.
And then a sudden wave of dread takes over me.
The hatchlings. All alone.
What nonsense am I thinking? I found them on an island with as many storms as here. Had they grown up there they would hear thunder just the same.
But they wouldn’t be alone.
Celine says something, but I can’t hear her over the rain or perhaps with the buzz in my head. Something’s wrong, and my skin is tingling with anxiety.
“What?” I ask.
She says something about the food, but I can’t focus. Can’t listen. Can’t stay here even a minute longer.
Maybe it’s nonsense. Maybe it’s my humiliation after Alayel didn’t even acknowledge me. It doesn’t matter. My chest is going to explode if I stay in this ball even a second longer.
“I’ll be right back,” I say close to Celine’s ear, to counter the sound of the thunderstorm. “I have to pick up something.”
Then I run.
My feet are quiet on the marble floor, the shoes soft and comfortable as I leave the ballroom. People are still coming in, and I feel like I’m swimming against the current.
The staircase is thankfully empty as I descend to the dungeons.
I doubt someone wouldn’t notice this dress and wonder what I’m doing here.
My fingers are trembling as I open the door to the hallway leading to the hatchlings’ room, my heart beating fast in my chest. Horrific images flash through my mind, and now it’s not only fear that the storm might be bothering them, but that they could be hurt or sick.
Danger is like a cloud surrounding me, an odd scent reaching my senses.
Something’s wrong.
I reach their door and wrench the key in the lock, shoving it open. From here, the sound of rain is muffled, and a small lumos jar provides some light, but I can’t see or hear the little dragons.
“Hello!” A hint of panic taints my voice. “Ava? Vos? Hello?”
I walk to the place where I slept and can’t find them. “Ava?”
A soft squeak catches my attention, and I rush to the other side, to a small sandpit. Ava is lying down beside her brother. I crouch, and she flies to my knee, then to my shoulder. Vos follows, even if he’s still staring at me like he doesn’t trust me. To be honest, I don’t blame him.
The hatchlings are fine. They look fine. Feel fine. Then why is my heart still screaming in my chest? Why do I have this hollow feeling in my marrow?
Something’s coming.
Someone’s coming.
Shit. I place the little dragons back on the sandpit. “Stay here. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t make any noise.”
Ava squees softly. Right. Of course she can’t understand what I’m saying. Either way, I leave the room, lock the door behind me—and my heart stops.
There’s a hole in the place where the door of the hallway used to be. A hole. And steps coming in my direction.
I know who it is even before he steps across the threshold.
The rider.
The man who almost killed me.
He wears a simpler circlet this time, but still holds that strange staff, and still looks eerily majestic.
His long black hair is wet and loose, falling on a dark robe with strange embroidery, his dark eyes angry and vicious, black blazes directed at me, then taking in my appearance, from the top of my hair to the bottom of my skirt, his stare branding me with a strange fire.
Terror seizes me, cold and sharp. For a heartbeat, I’m paralyzed.
Then an image of Ava and Vos, small and defenseless, cuts through the panic.
The fear doesn’t vanish, but it transmutes into a single, desperate thought: I don’t need to defeat the rider, just delay him.
Buy time for help to arrive—if he doesn’t kill me first.
“Ooooh. Fancy seeing you here,” I say casually, hoping my bizarre, friendly tone will bewilder him. “Are you coming to the ball?”
“Move.” Surprisingly, his voice is not harsh but melodious, like waves in the distance, even if a threat hangs beneath it.
My body shivers, but the image of the hatchlings smothers the fear before it can take root.
Raising my shoulders up and down, I ask, “Like this? You want me to exercise?”
He takes a shaky inhale as if trying to control his fury. “Move. I don’t wish to kill you.”
“You changed your mind? Because last time—”
“I dealt a killing blow. I’m aware.” He raises an eyebrow.
A chill runs through my body as I realize how close I came to dying, but I don’t let him see my reaction and keep my tone light.
“Surprised I’m alive?”
“No,” he says curtly, his gaze sweeping over me as if searching for something. For a moment, he looks beautiful, like a figure from a dark legend. Certainly even more stunning than Alayel, except that the rider’s a murderous brute. “Move,” he insists, his voice strangely calmer.
My strategy might be working, if he hasn’t yet used his strange staff on me. I stretch my hands and touch each wall. “I’m not going anywhere. But maybe you can convince me to let you through.”
He snorts in disbelief. “Convince? You have no clue who you’re up against, do you?”
Someone more powerful than I’ve ever dreamed, the words come to me.
A warning. I ignore the chill raising the hair on the back of my neck and smile. “No. But I’d love to know.”
I’m hoping some guards show up soon, as I’m pretty sure this rider’s patience is about to run out at any second.
Indeed, he points the staff at me, his eyes calculating, thinking.
I recall the feeling when his magic hit me last time, recall the blood on my chest and my life fading away, but I don’t let fear terrorize me.
“Wait!” I’m not sure how I can keep my tone light and a smile on my face. “You said you had no wish—”
“I have no problem hurting you.” There’s no emotion in his voice, not even anger or irritation, and he keeps his magical object pointed at me.
Somehow, his cold, matter-of-fact tone stirs fear into my insides. This is someone who wouldn’t hesitate to blast me to pieces, someone who sees no difference between me and a rock on his path.
Before I can even register what he’s doing, he flicks his wrist, and a blast of that strange, brilliant energy comes my way.
It’s death again, about to embrace me. Pain, ready to take me.
Instinctively, I put my hands in front of me, as if they could do anything against his formidable magic, and my eyes shut as I brace for impact—which never comes.
When I look, I see the rider swinging an arm, and sparks of energy flying everywhere, ricocheting on the walls until they dissipate.
My palms tingle, and I don’t understand what happened. Was his burst of energy just a warning?