I glowered at their excited faces, their raised fists, and the bloodlust in their eyes. This was just entertainment to them, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d humiliated myself up there in front of the whole of Mount Fornax.
Angry, boiling blood seared my veins and made my head pound in time with my raging heart. Right now, I wanted to marry King Magnar. Because then, the damsel denial magic would vanish, and I could wrap my hands around his scrawny neck and throw him off the royal box.
The rough hands of the drogott team members lifted me off my seat.
“Hey!” Niger shoved at his friends.
“Play with him later,” said a Griffon brother I didn’t yet know. “Right now, he’s got a tournament to enter.”
Writhing, kicking, punching, bucking… No matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the grip of the drogott team. They raised me up to the skies and carried me through the arena to the wild cheers and applause of the crowd. Even the dragons roared extra loud, as if they were looking forward to my performance. I tried pushing fire through my hands, but they just laughed. I snarled. The males were all mages and far more experienced than me in using fire magic.
Still trying to wriggle free, I stared at the clear, blue sky, hoping the weathervane would fly past and hailstones the size of cannonballs. Anything to save me from this tournament.
Fyrian circled overhead. “I’ll land in a second.”
“Hide!” I snapped. “If you’re missing, I won’t be able to compete.”
“We have to!” she said. “I promised Master Solum that we’d shovel dung in our spare time if he persuaded Master Fosco to let us enter.”
A chill spread through my gut, making me still. “What?”
“Master Fosco refused, but Master Roopal said you wanted to compete.”
“Why would he make up such an untrue—” I groaned. In History of Dragons, he had exempted those competing in the tournament from an essay. Stafford and I had raised our hands.
“Fyri.” My gaze froze on the majestic figure gliding above us. How could a dragon be so devious? Maybe she didn’t understand the depth of her confession. “Why would you enter us in the tournament?”
Several heartbeats later, she said, “I-I wanted to prove to Magnar that I wasn’t a coward as Byrrus said.”
“So, you volunteered me behind my back?”
“I had to!” she cried. “They wouldn’t allow me to enter without you.”
My eyes shuttered closed. Ice formed over my heart. No wonder she’d been tolerant of my attitude toward King Magnar. It was to hide her own scheming to ingratiate herself with him. I pressed my lips together and forced harsh breaths in and out of my nostrils. Of all the things I imagined going wrong, I could never have pictured Fyrian betraying me.
“A-Alba?” her voice shook.
I couldn’t reply. Not even when a little voice in the back of my head reminded me that Fyrian was still under the influence of the loyalty elixir. Somehow, I thought our bond might have been strong enough to dampen the intensity of her feelings.
“I don’t know what’s happened recently.” Her voice was thick with tears. “It’s like having two people you love hate each other, and all you want is for them to be together.”
My heart twitched. She could be describing how I felt about Mother and Father’s relationship.
She let out a hiccuping sob. “Because that would solve everything, and we’d all be happy. Please don’t hate me!”
A crack formed over the ice. It stretched and split and shattered. How many times had I wished Father would notice us and not spend so much time in the capital? And all the times I wanted Mother to stop putting on a brave front and stop pretending she didn’t cry at night? By despising King Magnar, I’d put Fyrian through the same torment.
The drogott team broke into a jog. They were probably parading me around the perimeter of the arena. Even though I had tuned out my surroundings, the wild cheers and roars of the crowd seeped through to my consciousness. None of that mattered in the face of Fyrian’s anguish.
“I couldn’t stand being thought of as afraid of spriggans,” she said. “Because I’m not. I needed to prove myself and fight for Magnar.”
A lump formed in my throat. This reminded me of being the only cadet in the Magical Militia without magic. Once I had failed to light the crystal on my apprentice staff, any witches who hadn’t minded my illegitimate status distanced themselves from me. Perhaps Byrrus had stirred up trouble for Fyrian.
I swallowed hard. “You should have said something if you were being bullied.”
“You couldn’t have done anything about it, and even if I spoke up, it would have looked like I was pressuring you to like Magnar.”
“Wait.” I stilled. “The other dragons were being horrible to you because I rejected King Magnar?”
“Not all of them,” she replied.
“Fyri, I’m so sorry.”
The drogott team put me on my feet, and I opened my eyes. The noise and light and chaos of the stadium shook my senses. I clenched my teeth and sucked in several deep breaths.
Fyrian sat in the middle of the arena, her head bowed. “Will you ride with me, then?”
“All right, but don’t expect us to impress anyone.” I climbed on Fyrian’s back to thunderous roars and applause. They probably thought Aunt Cendrilla’s son had come to give his support to the reign of King Magnar.
Up at the royal box, the blond-haired monarch stared down, lips parted, turquoise eyes wide. If it hadn’t been for Fyrian’s admission, I would have thought his surprised expression was a pretense.
Fyrian launched herself in the air and flew a circle around the arena. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” I stood on her back and waved at the crowd. Not because I was pleased to be there, and not because I wanted to make a good show. It was important for all the dragons persecuting Fyrian for my rejection of King Magnar to see that she had convinced me to stop resisting him. Besides, with his crown and the piece of parchment with the antidote stolen, we were even closer to freeing Mount Fornax of his influence.
“You know, if we don’t make this exciting, everyone’s going to start booing.”
She spat out a stream of green vapor. “Set that alight.”
I unsheathed my parched sword and pushed my power into its hilt. Fire shot out of the tip of my blade and caught the tail end of Fyrian’s vapor. The resulting fire took the shape of a snake, which floated down to the arena in a loose spiral.
The crowd burst into applause.
A laugh huffed out of my chest. “When did you learn to do that?”
“You always ask me to spit my venom in all our adventures,” she replied. “Sometimes into really small places. So, I’ve been practicing.”
“I’m impressed.” Warmth filled my insides. Riding around on Fyrian’s back while she made pretty shapes made for amusing entertainment for the crowds, but it would no way qualify either of us to compete against the likes of Albens.
I lit another cloud of venom, which turned into a flaming stingray that flew through the air. Maybe this little display would get King Magnar to stop glaring at me during mealtimes. But if he took it as a sign that I was coming to terms with being forced to marry him, I’d have to explain that I did it as a favor to Fyrian, who was being persecuted by the other dragons because of us.
With my sword at the ready to light another cloud of green vapor, I asked, “What will you make next, Fyri?”
Shadows descended from above. I glanced up to find a dozen green dragons circling us. “Who are they?”
“Civilians who don’t have a partner. I told them they can join us.”
I tilted my head to the side, squinting at these new dragons. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s too late for them to bond with a rider. They’re going to use our bond to fight with us in the war.”
“Fyri, I’m not—”
“It’s all right. I won’t let them crowd out your mind.”
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“Huh?” I spluttered. Could these dragons get into my head? I didn’t even know them!
“If you give them an order, I’ll pass it along. It won’t be like that time we talked to Ardenti or the sleeping dragons.”
“I didn’t agree to this!” My hands balled into fists.
After several moments of silence, she said, “If you won’t work with them, they’ll work with me.”
I ground my teeth. “You’re making me look like I can command thirteen dragons!”
“More.”
“What?”
“You could command more if you wanted. That’s what you can’t see. You’re the greatest dragon rider who ever lived. When you’ve finished training, you’ll be the greatest dragon mage, too. Magnar can see it, the spriggans can see it, but you’re too stubborn to acknowledge it.”
I closed my eyes and let out a hot, angry breath. What did she expect me to do? Marry King Magnar and declare myself Queen of the Dragons? It was one thing to have a telepathic link because of my fairy blood, but that didn’t entitle me to command a dozen dragons and it didn’t obligate me to join King Magnar’s cause.
The green dragons kept to the skies, performing daring feats of acrobatics and weaving streams of green vapor through the clouds. Fyrian descended in a downward spiral of increasingly tight circles.
I held onto her neck and glared at the display. “What is this?”
“You’ll find out when you light your sword.”
“Why?”
She huffed. “Everyone’s worked so hard to make this happen. If you don’t hold up your parched sword, you’ll be letting them down.”
I glanced up at the dozen dragons weaving in and out of the clouds. They were probably the ones who dwelled on her terrace. Like Fyrian, they were under the influence of the elixir and were desperate to impress King Magnar.
“They’re also the dragons who cheered you on when you broke me out of prison and escaped through the wards,” she said.
My heart clenched.
“All right.” I raised my arm, pointed the tip of my sword to a thin trail of green, and pushed my power through its hilt.
Fire spread through the green vapor, twisting and turning in spirals like a fiery hurricane. When it reached the clouds, it lit their underside in a blaze of orange flames. Green dragons burst down from the clouds, eyes flashing, teeth bared. They blew down plumes of flame, made even larger by the venom they had left in the atmosphere.
My mouth dropped open. Fyrian and her friends had set the entire sky alight. Fire rained down from falling droplets of venom only to turn into tiny puddles of flame when they reached the ground. I had never seen anything so spectacular.
Not a person in the arena spoke while the heavens were aflame. My pulse pounded in my ears. Fyrian was a genius.
“I used to organize the dragonet displays for the opening ceremonies. Working with full-sized dragons isn’t much different.”
Fyrian swooped down to the ground and landed. All around us, droplets of fire rained down on us while she spread her wings and bowed.
When the last flame petered out, everyone in the area rose to their feet and applauded. It wasn’t the extreme reaction they’d given Albens, but the cheers and roars were enough to demonstrate that they were impressed.
“Well done, Cadet Bluford and Fyrian-Lacerta,” said Master Fosco. “King Magnar will now declare his choice for the finalists.”
King Magnar stood, eyes shining, cheeks flushed. He picked up the speaking horn and said, “Thank you, dragons and warriors. Only two mages will succeed into the next round, a one-to-one combat to become my Savannah Sky Commander.”
Everyone cheered, and I cringed. King Magnar had all but named the next two finalists by announcing they were mages. He probably meant Albens and me.
He cleared his throat. “The final pair of contestants to become new Sky Commander is…” he reached for something under his arm. When he couldn’t find it, he stared at his underarm. Then he turned around and examined his throne.
I held my breath and clung to Fyrian’s neck. He’d probably noticed that the parchment was gone.
“Your Majesty?” asked Master Solum.
“Someone has stolen my property,” shouted King Magnar.
Master Klauw jumped out of his seat and pointed at the monarch’s head. “And your crown.”
Master Fosco stood at the edge of the royal box, glaring down at Fyrian and me. “And I think I know who.”
Chapter 14
“Treason!” Master Fosco pointed at us. “Seize them.”
Fyrian launched herself into the air. “Fosco’s jealous. We didn’t do anything!”
My stomach dropped. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or Master Fosco. But if she flew away, they would probably think she was part of the conspiracy to steal the crown and the antidote. I couldn’t let her get into trouble for something she didn’t do.
The warriors in the crowd rose to their feet in a burst of excited cries and chatter. Since they hadn’t started booing yet, I could only assume they were confused about the nature of the treasonous accusations and had stood to witness more excitement.
Four riders on purple dragons, including Albens and Master Fosco’s apprentice, Phoenix, appeared around us.
I winced. “We’d better land.” There was nothing worse than being grabbed and teleported against one’s will by a purple dragon. “Sorry if this gets you into trouble, Fyri. I’ll tell them you weren’t involved.”
“I don’t understand.” She swooped down to the ground and landed on her forelegs with a thud. “You haven’t been close enough to Magnar to take his crown. Why would you do it, anyway?”
Albens and Phoenix descended after us on their dragons, and I swallowed hard. “It’s… complicated. Are they angry with you, too?”
“They just told me not to help you run away or I’d get into trouble, too.”
I patted Fyrian on the neck and slid down her foreleg. “Stay out of it. I’ll settle things with King Magnar.”
As soon as my feet hit the ground, Phoenix appeared by my side and grabbed my bicep. His pinched features and the look of disappointment in his eyes made me flinch. Without a word, Albens wrapped a meaty hand around my other bicep, and the pair of them escorted me across the area to an exit amidst boos and heckling.
I glared at the crowd. Up until my arrest, they’d only displayed excited anticipation. What had they been expecting, a swashbuckling sword fight followed by a daring escape on dragon back?
“Fyrian didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.
“Worry about yourself, Bluford,” said Albens.
“That poor young dragon has been trying so hard to be a good citizen here at Mount Fornax.” Phoenix led us through an archway that stretched out into an underpass of polished, sandstone walls. “You’re not helping her plight with your rebellion against His Majesty.”
My heart sank. Up until today, Fyrian hadn’t bothered me with her personal problems. I had thought she had a wide range of friends among the green dragons on her terrace and the other dragons she had met during her time as a messenger dragonet. It had never occurred to me that the other dragons might turn against her for my actions.
I kept my side of the bond open, and a quick glimpse through her eyes told me that the dragon masters were on the ground, questioning her about what I had stolen from King Magnar. They seemed to believe her ignorance of my plans.
“In you get.” Albens opened the door to what looked like a waiting room of benches carved into the stone walls. It wasn’t as comfortable as the jailhouse, but better than I had expected for someone arrested for treason.
“What’s going to happen next?” I asked.
He gave me a gentle shove in the back and closed the door.
I sat on the bench and rested my head against the wall. As long as Evolene reached Master Jesper with the gold and the parchment, nothing else mattered. They would make the elixir, break everyone out of their ridiculous loyalt
y to King Magnar, and release me from this holding cell. Folding my arms, I clenched my jaw and waited. It was only a matter of time before everything straightened itself out.
Closing my eyes, I peered into Fyrian’s side of the bond. She sat on her haunches, staring down at King Magnar, who was flanked by Masters Fosco and Klauw. A warm, giddy feeling filled her chest. I hoped it was her buoyant air, but the fluttering in her stomach told me she was nervous about upsetting King Magnar.
He turned to Master Klauw. “Ask her if she ever challenged her bondmate’s treachery.”
Master Klauw turned to Fyrian. “Well, did you?”
“Alba isn’t a traitor! She’s just confused. It’s her friends. They’re always saying horrible things about Magnar and want her to like them.”
“Fyri,” I snapped. “Don’t get anyone in trouble.”
Master Klauw narrowed his eyes. “Fyrian-Lacerta has been compromised. It is best that we postpone this round of questioning until her bondmate is otherwise occupied.”
“Can he hear me?” I asked.
“He’s loyal to King Magnar and conducting an official investigation,” replied Fyrian. “It didn’t seem right to shield my mind against an ally.”
My shoulders slumped, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. None of this was the dragons’ fault. They were victims. King Magnar should never have taken advantage of them. He was just as wicked and chaotic as the dark fairy artifacts he had snuck through the wards all those weeks ago. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, hoping Master Jesper had finished the elixir already and had gotten Evolene to pour it in the ale.
Hours later, the door opened. Albens appeared with five other burgundy-clad mages. Two held Niger, two held Stafford, and the fifth held Evolene.
Every last hope burst into flames and drifted onto the sandstone floor like droplets of flaming, green venom. I stumbled to my feet and spluttered, “What’s going on?”
The mages shoved my friends into the room and slammed the door shut.
“What happened?” I asked.
Niger swaggered forward, the first to answer. His hair was a mass of tangles, and his jacket askew, as though he’d been wrestling, but no bruises marred his face. “King Magnar had me arrested for trespassing on the arena floor.”
Dragon Mage Academy Page 13