Eight #2
My eyes flick up to Nora. “She’s in the castle. She’ll hopefully be here soon.”
“Yay!” She jumps up and down. “Ewf was pwetty in a dress.” She means when she was on the stage part of the Enclave.
Fuck, did she see me kill that guard?
“She is always very pretty.”
“Yes!”
“Come on, Melle,” Nora says softly. “Let’s help around the camp, yes?”
“Hewp!” she says, smiling at her mother.
I swallow roughly as I watch them go. They don’t belong here. She doesn’t belong here.
My clan scatters, whispering amongst themselves, giving me lingering looks as Tofa and Beau come over.
“Alara isn’t here?” she asks, and I nod, looking back at the gates, wanting to go to her and take her far away.
She wasn’t meant for our harsh life, yet when I think of the things she’s told me, of the underground, of Emerish, she’s been through worse than us.
And I once called her weak.
I shake my head at myself.
“Halen wants her close for now, but she’ll come here, I’m sure of it.”
“Is she safe?” Beau asks, and I turn to look at him.
“As safe as we all are.”
Which isn’t safe at all.
Their faces fall, and Tofa sniffles and nods, accepting my answer before Beau guides her away, Calian watching from outside the tent.
Lykke comes over next. The eleven-year-old was already looking weary. “Dragonbond? I… I need to get my mom out of here.”
My eyes go to Maery as she talks with another, but her eyes drift back to her son.
“I know.”
“If I tell them that I’ll stay, that I’ll do whatever they want, can she leave?”
I place a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at me like I can give him the answer, that I can help him.
“I’m sorry, Lykke. They won’t do that.” His lip trembles and I squeeze his shoulder. “You are a great son. Stay with your mother, help her in any way you can. Try not to worry. I’m going to get us out of here.”
“You are?”
“I’ll die trying.” And I mean it. I will.
“Lykke?” He looks to his mother before glancing at me.
“Go,” I tell him, and he runs over to his mother who holds him close.
She nods at me, but it’s in an understanding way.
She knows I will try, but I could also fail.
She knows, just like the others, how many don’t make it back from the Enclave, and now we are all here…
A roar rips through the air.
My head snaps toward it.
Drogonah.
I make my way through the black tents, the color marking our area. We have the basics provided for, much like when we travel. The other Dragonbonds have their own set of colored tents, all of us having our own small space in a circular fashion.
The members look at me from clan Highwing, some nod their head in respect, some in fear.
I go to the back where a large section is blocked off by walls and a gate, further to the side of that on the outer wall, is a gated tunnel that leads underground to the Enclave, spilling off into its own routes to enter at different sides.
We’re not the only ones who use it either. Creatures and other people are forced down the tunnels to meet their fate in the Enclave.
I head for the gate where the pens lay beyond. There’s a door built into the wall at its side.
I knock on it, and a little window slat in the wood pulls open, revealing a scowling guard within.
“What?” the man says, voice gruff.
“Let me in.”
He eyes me. “You’re not having the keys yet. Only after the first game did the king say the clans can have them.”
“Fine,” I grit out.
He slams the wooden slot shut, and then the gate is lifting up.
I walk through it, cresting the top of a hill and see the cages, so fucking many of them it makes my blood sizzle.
Making my way down, ignoring the pain in my body, I search through them, looking for my dragons.
They sense my presence, growling, and the sound is so familiar to me I head to the back, spotting Agnar straight away.
I go to him, stroking down his nose through the bars.
“Hey.” I look around the cage and nearly growl at the sight. There’s nowhere near enough room for him to stand. “I’m going to get you out of here as soon as I can.”
He purrs, nudging his head against my hand.
I spot Solia next, then Alter, who is curled up in the center of his cage. I grind my teeth, going to each of them.
Vex and Blaise are next. Then Hakkon, Magnas, and Hedoric. Then Doren who is chuffing at me.
That’s when I spot Drogonah, right at the back near the wall. He raises his head at my approach, teeth gleaming, chest rumbling. He looks behind me for a moment, seeing if I’m alone.
“I’m here,” I tell him, stroking down the side of his face and he closes his eyes, leaning against me.
He shuffles, and that’s when I see the netting on his wing, the same type from when Magnus came to us in the Wilds.
Bastards. They know Nighturn won’t knock him out easily so they had to do this to get him in the cage.
“We will burn them all this time.” He peels his eyes open at my words, and I bend down, looking at him directly.
“We will kill them all.” He growls, lips peeling back in agreement.
“You will not be caged again. No more. This cannot go on.”
Another growl, this one from the cage next to him and Escor is there, sat up, smoke curling from his nostrils as he looks past me.
“She’s in the castle,” I tell the young dragon. He whines, laying down, head on his front legs. “I know. I want her here too.”
He grumbles in agreement, even Drogonah flicks his ears to listen.
The grumpy dragon was also wondering.
I sigh, looking at both of them.
“Have you seen Sparks?”
Drogonah closes his eyes, and Escor purrs slowly, a painful sound which soon echoes the others.
I rest my head on the bars, shoulders slumping.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m sorry, Frelia.
I grip the bars, my knuckles whitening as fury takes over, my vision tinging red so suddenly I go dizzy with it.
Drogonah roars, trying to stand, his mouth opening to spew flames, but he crashes into the bars instead, the whole cage shaking from his strength.
I breathe through my rage, placing a hand on Drogonah’s snout to calm him, his chest rumbling deeply.
He can’t breathe fire inside the cage, it’s made from metal that has been infused with Terbium, a metal that somehow stops any magic.
It’s forbidden to be used in any of the lands. The leader of each land, many, many years ago deemed it was too powerful. Vrohkaria, the Elven Lands, even reaching further to where humans reside near the fae in the north, and then further still in Evermorn, the demons to the northeast.
Yet here it is, and Drogonah or any other dragon won’t be able to breathe fire within it.
It makes me wonder if they’re used for more than just dragons…
There are other creatures and beasts in all the lands, but there are also the king’s children.
The Lothmere line has produced many with more elemental powers than anyone else before, but it was never from the male’s side that their powers came from, always the females.
Halen’s mother had no magic, which bore him none when he was born. Halen’s wife… or mistress, it’s unknown, passed magic down onto his children, and yet, it hasn’t been used directly against us.
Why haven’t they been used against the Dragorie whenever the king would try to assassinate us? Why hasn’t he used them in The Games to kill more of us instead of just having his children create environments we have to survive in?
I wonder if the sister has any… although she’s too young, I think.
I look down at my hand and flex my fingers. Drogonah rumbles, and my eyes flick to his.
So many questions that I haven’t bothered to find answers to before, but maybe I need to start asking them now.
“Dragonbond.”
The voice doesn’t surprise me or the presence. Drogonah warned me she was coming.
“Have you come to make me bleed too?” I ask her.
She scoffs, coming closer.
“No, the others, however…”
“You know I would kill them, Sigrid.”
“I know that,” she says, standing next to me. “They also know that, even though they would deny it and try to kill you anyway.”
“A meeting?” I guess.
“Of course. I think it’s time you filled us in on what the fuck is going on.”
“And if a traitor is in our midst?” I turn to look at her, and her brows furrow.
“The eggs?” I nod. “Then they would already know what you are about to tell us.”
“Maybe.” I look back at Drogonah. “We need to get them out.”
“We do.” She steps away and I follow. “But first, we need to make a plan.”
We walk through more caged dragons, all of them belonging to the five clans until conveniently, there is a space in the center of them, where the other Dragonbonds await.
“Ahh, if it isn’t the king’s pet,” Karag mocks.
“Careful, Karag,” I drawl. “You sound jealous.”
If only he knew what being the king’s favorite means.
His nostrils flare as he advances toward me.
“I may still be bleeding,” I tell him, standing straighter. “But I won’t hesitate to put you down, Karag. I’m not in the mood for your dick swinging.”
Durruk places a hand on Karag’s shoulder, halting him.
“Come on, fighting will get us nowhere,” Varan tries.
“No, he got us into this situation.” Karag points at me. “You caused this. You are who caused all of our clan members and dragons to be here.”
Said dragons all growl around us. And it seems I’m not the only one whose bonded dragon is the furthest back from here.
“Karag—” Durruk starts.
“He’s right,” I say, and they all look toward me. “I made a deal with the king last year. I give him an elf, he leaves us alone.”
“You did fucking what?” Varan asks, eyes wide.
“I wanted it all to stop, our dragons are dying.”