Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Glisinil
MAGNOLIA
“There’s a dinner tonight,” Cash said as everyone started exiting the Dome.
I stalled. “Is it just for riders again?”
“No.” A smile spread across his face. “Riders and Wielders, no initiates tonight.” He held his hand out. “I’m going to go before I train you tonight. Do you want to come?”
No—I thought.
Honestly, I wanted nothing more than to run back to my room and sleep. I was exhausted. I barely slept last night, and in the little bit of time I managed to drift off, I was consumed by nightmares of burning alive.
I knew Arrik was listening. I half expected him to storm out of the balcony in front of us, but he waited. I could feel him behind me, watching.
“We’re training tonight?” I asked, knowing sleep wasn’t going to happen either way.
He nodded. “It’ll be short. I just want to check on your progress.” He gestured toward the castle, to the people slowly piling out of the Dome and already walking up the steep steps. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll just meet you in your room later.”
“No, I’ll go,” I said, knowing my exhaustion could wait.
I still had no leads. I had to figure out who Hael was. It was either this, or trekking to whatever this MonClem village was—and that’s only if I managed to not get eaten alive by a dragon first.
Cash smirked, then turned to grab a drink before leaving the balcony. I followed him down the Dome steps, then up toward the castle through the winding staircase around the mountains, trying to ignore the fact that Arrik was still somewhere behind us.
Cash’s tall frame and blonde hair made him easy to track even in the crowd.
I only managed to go transparent once during the walk back to the castle when someone bumped into me, but I didn’t delude myself into thinking that meant I was starting to get a grasp on it.
Besides knowing that I had to overcome my fear of how my Token manifested, I wasn’t getting any closer to figuring it out, because honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever get over that night.
So my stupid Token continued to be useless, which according to the king, if I couldn’t show him what I could do, my time here was limited.
I kept thinking about my interaction with Arrik last night, how he warned me to leave.
“He’s keeping you for collateral. Eventually there will be something Elion wants and if Dahes is after you, you’ll be the first thing he trades.”
It didn’t matter—I was eventually going back to Dahes anyway—but I couldn’t stop thinking about Elion.
The truth was, I did believe he was better.
When I first entered his throne room, I wanted to fall on my knees and beg him to keep me.
Hell, I would have crawled to him if it meant I could get away from Dahes.
But the longer I stayed here, the more I saw, the more I learned that the delusion was a lie.
Dahes was cruel. I hated him more than I would ever hate anyone. I was downright terrified of him. But he never pretended to be good. He was evil, and he had no qualms with everyone knowing it. He’d don a freaking devil’s mask whenever he left his castle just to prove it.
But Elion. He was fake, hiding behind a mask that wasn’t actually there, and I got the sinking suspicion that he was just as twisted and dark as Dahes. He just covered it up with an articulate set of rules that only benefited him.
My mind was whirling over what Elion’s motives were that I hadn’t realized Cash had stopped walking and we were here.
The long steps back up to the castle felt like nothing now that I had adjusted to the altitude.
And once we were inside, the hallways all looked identical.
The only way I could tell them apart was by looking out the open windows.
We entered another large room—not the throne room or the dining room—but it was just as grand. I realized this must have been a small part of the castle I hadn’t explored yet, and I was mad at myself for not paying attention on the walk over here.
Without Dahes inside my head, I wasn’t used to my own mind. It was like I was slowly waking up from a nightmare. Like I just discovered lucid dreaming and learned I could actually control my thoughts.
I was so accustomed to not thinking, to keeping my mind blank, that now, I didn’t know how to function when it was my own again.
My mind kept rambling in circles, and in turn, it made me careless. I wasn’t paying attention to details like I was used to.
Maybe having the capability to think was a weakness. Maybe it made me oblivious, kept me preoccupied in my own mental war that I didn’t pay attention to the reality pressing in around me.
Either way, I was paying attention now.
I scanned the room, taking everything in. The entire back wall had looming floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a clear view of the Dome and the hundreds of steps carved into the mountains connecting the two.
It was breathtaking, just like everything in Viven was. The ceilings were vaulted, probably a few levels high, with intricate gold molding creating a dimensional design all ending toward the center where a large chandelier hung down, illuminating the room in a soft fiery glow.
The same gilded trim lined the other walls, breaking up the windows, giving the illusion of multiple smaller panes.
The two adjacent walls carried over the design, making me feel like I was in a golden bubble, except the windows didn’t go nearly as high.
The trim breaking up the room cut directly through the center of the wall, and above each window were six massive oil paintings of dragons—three on each side, all with different scales and colors.
The left side of the room had more colorful dragons depicted on the paintings, their scales glowing against the gilded frames.
Red, blue, and green. Each dragon looked massive.
I swore the red scales gave the appearance they were on fire, while the blue had gills carved around its neck, and the green had roots crawling up its hind legs, circling around its massive tail.
On the right, the colors were more muted—the three dragons were black, white, and gray, making them look more ominous and terrifying. My gaze lingered on the depiction of the white dragon. I hadn’t seen any of the other species up close before and I was surprised by how different they all looked.
I forced myself to take in the rest of the room.
There were a surprising amount of people that came from the Dome.
A few riders still had on their uniforms, and besides Cash telling me that initiates weren’t invited to whatever this was, I knew based off their chest plates.
The onyx ‘E’ for Elion etched over their right breast was indication enough.
They already fought and survived the Vargothi.
But the Wielders… no one was in uniform. Everyone wore high-end dresses or tunics. Bran was right about the tournament—it was just as much about fashion as it was about fighting.
I originally loved the diamond gown he picked out for me, but I was starting to regret it now.
The more I walked, the more stiff and uncomfortable the dress became.
Dahes only dressed me in next to nothing, and while I loved the coverage, the diamonds were heavy.
I wanted to change into soft cottons and crawl into bed, pulling the thick comforter over my head, getting lost in—
Snap out of it, Magnolia. Nothing about my life was a comfort, and I couldn’t pretend like I deserved a bit of it now. Not while Masin was still somewhere on the streets of Moriann. I had to do this. I couldn’t give Dahes a reason to go back on our deal.
“Care for a drink?” It was Cash. I wasn’t sure if I was happy he stayed by my side or infuriated.
My mind screamed at me to get as far away from him as I could.
I couldn’t explain it. Besides the fact that I hated his training, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I couldn’t shake the gut feeling I had whenever I was around him.
Something about his presence had my radar going haywire, but right now he was familiar, and every single Vivenian in the room was looking at me like I was a ghost—and I wasn’t transparent.
I glanced down at my dress, having no idea why I was getting so many glares.
“Don’t mind them, convict,” Cash said with a sly smile. He was in the same black suit from earlier, but while his jacket had been off and shirt undone before, everything was pristine now.
“They’re all just jealous they didn’t have your guts to wear gems during the Vargothi,” he commented. I could feel him staring at me as I glanced around the room again.
I was the only one in a beaded gown. In fact, most people weren’t even wearing jewelry. Their dresses were beautiful, full of lace and frills, but simple. Just various materials sewn on top of more material.
I looked down at my dress. “Is it against the rules?” I hadn’t realized it before, but the stark contrast to what I was wearing compared to everyone else was startling.
“Tomorrow it will be, but nah, not the first two days. No one wears them because they’re all just terrified that a dragon might actually show up.”
“What do you mean? What’s my dress have to do with dragons?”
“They love to eat glisinil, and while you look nothing like the fish they hunt in the Triovian, you sure as hell stand out as much.”
“Glis-lin-what?”
“Glisinils. They’re some of the largest fish in the ocean, and their scales are known to sparkle against the suns—like diamonds.”
“Great,” I said, as I realized Bran picked out my dresses for the tournament. “So everyone knows that I’ve been dressing up like a dragon’s snack this whole time except for me?”
“Pretty much,” he smirked. “But you’re not the snack. Glisinils are rare and dragons go fucking feral for them. Which is why when they see pretty things that sparkle, they tend to eat first and think later.” He smiled at the pure mortification flashing across my face.
I was going to murder Bran.