by Brandon Mull
“Wait a moment,” boomed a deep voice powerful enough to vibrate the glassware. It was the bulky dragon with the bull horns. “Before everyone gets too comfortable, I formally challenge Celebrant the Just for the kingship.”
Challenge
The vast room inside Skyhold became utterly silent. All eyes turned to Celebrant.
Seth failed to suppress his grin. How was he this lucky?
“Madrigus, my faithful servant,” the Dragon King said smoothly, a hint of warning behind the words. “This is a poor occasion for rude humor.”
“Bah,” Madrigus replied harshly, stomping his heavy feet and shaking his wings. “I’m no jester. Prepare to surrender your crown.”
Celebrant shook his head. “You are a member of my personal guard. Second in seniority. This verges on treason. And it is a matter for dragons. We do not handle such affairs before company. If you insist on a challenge, issue it after our visitors depart.”
“Afraid to fall in front of your fellow caretakers?” Madrigus asked. “Adjourn to the proving ground with me now or face your puny guests as a coward.”
Celebrant’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intensifying. “Very well. But for this insult I will disperse your bones without honor.”
“You’ll have to win first, small one,” Madrigus said.
Seth pumped a fist. “Yes. Dragon fight.”
Beside him, Kendra looked shocked. Most people appeared astonished. Lord Dalgorel’s mouth hung open. Seth looked down the table to Eve and finally saw his joy reflected.
Tugging on a pair of white gloves, Dalgorel stood. “This spectacle is a rarity indeed.”
“How rare?” Seth asked.
“I’ve lived a very long time,” Dalgorel said. “I’ve never seen it. Nor met anyone who has.”
“Will it be dangerous?” Kendra asked.
“Two of the most powerful dragons alive are about to fight to the death,” Dalgorel said. “We are here by invitation and are not to be harmed. But I will not be pressing for a close seat.”
“There are close seats?” Seth asked.
Raxtus approached. “Sorry about this. You don’t have to watch.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Seth said. “Where is the proving ground?”
“Right here in the castle,” Raxtus said. “It’s basically a big courtyard. Father wants me to escort you and see to your safety.”
“How do you know?” Seth asked.
“He can speak directly to my mind,” Raxtus said. “How would you like that? Unfair amount of parental supervision, if you ask me. Come on.”
Raxtus led them up a wide, slowly winding corridor. Tanu walked between Seth and Kendra. Seth realized there were no doors in this castle, or small hallways—only spaces that could accommodate dragons.
“Can Madrigus beat your dad?” Kendra asked.
“Madrigus is tough,” Raxtus said. “He has killed more than a few dragons over the years. He has thick, strong scales and seems built to shred dragon hides. His whole body is like a can opener. But no dragon has ever scratched my father. Not a single scale has even been damaged.”
“What would it mean to have a new Dragon King?” Seth asked.
Raxtus chuckled. “Not going to happen. Here we are—the royal vantage.”
They emerged onto a high balcony above a huge, open-air arena. Below, dragons gathered on all sides to watch the contest. The sleek white dragon with crystal-blue eyes already rested in the balcony, gazing below.
“Hello, Mother,” Raxtus said. “This is Kendra, Seth, and Tanu, along with Lord Dalgorel and his daughter, Eve.”
“I am Raina,” the dragon said with a mesmerizing voice. “I’m sorry Madrigus interrupted your feast. Waste of a strong dragon.”
Down below, Celebrant entered one side of the arena, Madrigus the other. The sunset was fading, but magical globes of light flared to life around the arena, bathing it in sterile, white radiance.
Seth studied the challenger. Madrigus had a relatively short, thick neck supporting a large head and wide horns. The huge plates of his scales armored him like a tank, and spikes protruded everywhere, some straight, some barbed, some hooked—all sharp. The swollen lump at the end of his tail bristled like a pineapple.
“To honor your centuries of service, I offer you one last chance to yield,” Celebrant said loudly. “Choose banishment and live.”
“I return the same offer,” Madrigus replied. “Leave the crown and go into exile.”
“Madrigus is so dead,” Raxtus murmured. “I think he’s hoping to rattle Father by challenging him in front of guests and by being rude. It’s going to backfire. He’s just making him angry.”
“This is conduct unbefitting a member of my personal guard,” Celebrant said. “I strip you of all rank and honors. You die a rogue and a traitor.”
“The honor of your guard was disgraced the moment you added your son,” Madrigus said. “You expelled Obregon for Raxtus? Being a member of your guard was once a rare privilege. Your nepotism turned it into a disgrace.”
Seth glanced at Raxtus, who stared into the arena in silence, still as a statue.
“It is not your place to question your king,” Celebrant said. “I have reasons for all I do. Obregon can fill the vacancy you have created. Two other dragons have challenged me of late. How many of our own must perish?”
“They were weak,” Madrigus said.
“No dragon living has a chance against me, but they had less chance than most,” Celebrant said. “Now that I consider it, both of them knew you well. Podenholm and Rondet. Did you put them up to it?”
“I may have helped the fools toward their folly,” Madrigus said. “Fanned the flames of stupidity.”
“You were testing me,” Celebrant said. “Studying me. To prepare for today.”
Madrigus gave a roar that could have rivaled volcanoes. Hands over his ears, Seth felt the air trembling and stared at the many rows of razor teeth made visible, as if multiple mouths were nested within one another.
“Very well,” Celebrant replied as the last echoes faded.
Lowering his horns, Madrigus charged forward with astonishing speed. Celebrant twisted out of the way at the last moment, ducking a swipe from the club tail and trading sides of the arena.
“Dull,” Celebrant remarked.
“Are you going to run from me all night?” Madrigus asked.
For the first time, Celebrant snarled.
The dragons rushed toward each other, crashing together with a sound like colliding locomotives. After the initial impact, they thrashed and rolled and snapped and slashed, accompanied by the jarring shrieks of sharp objects grating across impenetrable surfaces. After the ferocious flurry of engagement, the dragons parted, prowling in a loose circle, eyes fixed on each other. Both were enormous, but Celebrant was longer from snout to tail, while Madrigus possessed more overall bulk.
Seth saw no damage to either dragon. He glanced at Eve, who gazed transfixed. Kendra had her head partly turned away. Raxtus watched intently.
Celebrant darted at Madrigus, coming in low but finishing high, claws raking at the other dragon’s face before his teeth clamped down near the base of the neck. Madrigus retracted his head almost like a turtle and bashed Celebrant in the side with his club tail. The impact made Seth think of a wrecking ball.
Again the dragons separated. Celebrant had no mark from the mighty blow, but on the shoulder of Madrigus, part of a plate had been torn aside.
“Nobody finds the seams like Dad,” Raxtus whispered.
Rising up straight, Madrigus inhaled deeply. Celebrant laughed, puffing out his chest at the other dragon and baring his teeth.
“What is Madrigus doing?” Raxtus wondered. “No breath weapon can touch my father.”
Madrigus exhaled a concentrated stream of darkness. Celebrant pivoted away from the black column at the last moment, but the exhalation struck the side of his chest before he spun to the ground. Platinum scales sprayed into the air like coins.
/> “What?” Raxtus exclaimed.
Now Madrigus was laughing.
“How?” Celebrant demanded. “Not a single dragon has mastered the seething night since Grugnar of old.”
“My ancestor,” Madrigus boasted.
“He kept that breath weapon a secret,” Raxtus said, worry in his voice. “No wonder he thought he had a chance against Father—seething night can eat away any material.”
Madrigus charged forward, and Celebrant turned, offering his back to his enemy. The resounding collision knocked Celebrant flat on his belly, while Madrigus raked and stabbed at his back.
“Father has to protect his chest,” Raxtus muttered. “He’s never been in this position before. He’s never been wounded. His other scales won’t hold out forever. Not against Madrigus.”
Seth wondered what it would mean if Celebrant died. Would Madrigus inherit the position of caretaker along with the kingship? Or would the position perish with Celebrant? Though he felt bad for Raxtus, Seth wondered if the death of the Dragon King would benefit them.
Without fully rolling over, Celebrant arched his head up and back, and his jaws found the flesh beneath the other dragon’s damaged plate. Roaring, Madrigus tore away, and gore fountained into the air. Celebrant tried to rise, but Madrigus charged back in, shoveling with his horns in an attempt to flip the Dragon King and expose his chest. In a flash, Celebrant whirled around, outstretched claws ripping the wound at the base of his enemy’s neck, tearing away more scales. Madrigus lunged for Celebrant’s damaged chest, but the Dragon King vaulted the attack and created space.
Squaring up to face the Dragon King, Madrigus inhaled again, but as he prepared to open his mouth, Celebrant blasted him in the snout with a bolt of white lightning. Stunned, Madrigus staggered back and started to inhale again. Celebrant raced forward and slashed into his mouth as it opened, severing part of his tongue.
“Dad won’t let him use seething night again,” Raxtus said. “It takes Madrigus too long to muster it. It was foolish to keep trying. Now he’s really hurt.”
Celebrant now ran quick circles around Madrigus, twisting away from attacks and occasionally hacking at his wounded opponent. Madrigus continuously coughed dark fluid from his mouth, and gore streamed down his front from the wound beside his neck. A patch on the side of Celebrant’s chest lacked scales and looked charred, but that didn’t seem to hinder him.
“Madrigus is slowing down,” Raxtus said. “This is over.”
Like a striking snake, Celebrant streaked forward, clamping his jaws around the top of the other dragon’s throat, just below the head. Seth winced at the crunch. Without releasing his grip, Celebrant inhaled deeply, then exhaled powerfully. White flames erupted from the eyes of Madrigus as well as from his nostrils, mouth, earholes, and the wound at the base of his neck. Celebrant released his grip, and Madrigus collapsed in a lifeless heap, smoke rising from his roasted head.
“Yikes,” Raxtus murmured. “Father is angry.”
Celebrant looked fiercely at the crowd. “This fight was wasteful. But now I’m in the mood. He wounded me. Who wants to try next?”
Silence prevailed after his question as his gaze swept the crowd.
“Who is your king?” Celebrant cried.
“Celebrant the Just,” the dragons answered as one.
Celebrant gave a nod. “I am true to my word. We will deal with the corpse after the feast. His bones will be scattered across Wyrmroost.”
After stretching his wings wide, Celebrant folded them and went back into the castle. The light globes dimmed, and the other dragons followed. Raina withdrew from the overlook, and Raxtus started leading the others back toward the feast. Seth noticed Tanu lingering, staring down at the proving ground, then followed his gaze to the corpse of Madrigus.
Seth approached Tanu and whispered, “Ingredients?”
Tanu gave a slight nod, eyes misty. “A treasure trove.”
“You could make some amazing potions,” Seth said.
“Celebrant means to disrespect the body,” Tanu said. “A fresh kill—blood, glands, tissues, organs—a male in his prime. It will all go to waste.”
“Some of it probably got fried when Celebrant filled him with fire,” Seth said.
“The eyes got cooked,” Tanu said. “A lot of the tissues and fluids in the head and neck might be toast. But there is plenty left. Dragons are very durable. And who knows? Maybe a baked tonsil has interesting properties.”
The globes dimmed further.
“Want me to sneak down there?” Seth whispered.
Tanu looked at him sharply. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Give me a container,” Seth said. “I can at least collect some blood. Don’t forget I can shadow walk. I’m almost invisible in the dark. And I have stealthy boots on.”
Tanu hesitated, taking a couple of deep breaths. “And if you get caught, relations with the dragons get even worse. They might even have an excuse to harm you.”
“They’re going to scatter the bones,” Seth said. “Is there a chance Celebrant would give you permission?”
Tanu shook his head. “No way. He knows what those ingredients could become in the hands of a potion master. And we’re his enemies.”
“Can Celebrant make potions out of Madrigus?” Seth asked.
“I don’t think so,” Tanu said. “I’ve never heard of dragons using potions. Most potions only work on mortals.”
The light globes went out. The sunset dwindled against the mountaintops. Deep shadow engulfed the proving grounds.
“It’s abandoned,” Seth said. “They all went back to the feast. Let me go down there quickly.”
“You’ll be missed,” Tanu said.
“Let me go,” piped a small voice.
Seth had nearly forgotten about Calvin.
“I’m small,” the nipsie said. “Nobody will notice.”
“It’s also really far for you,” Tanu said. “And you can’t carry much.”
“Far never bothered me,” Calvin said. “And something is better than nothing.”
“I’d rather you stay with Seth,” Tanu said. “Go on. I’m going to loiter here for a few minutes.”
“You’re going to try to swipe something, aren’t you?” Seth asked.
“Don’t be absurd. Only a maniac would take such a risk.” Tanu bent close, his lips almost touching Seth’s ear. “But if your manservant gets caught doing something unacceptable, swear to me you will disavow me.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t—” Seth began.
“This is a never-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” Tanu whispered. “Won’t happen again. And war is brewing. I’ll just dawdle for a minute or two. Maybe take a closer look. Pay my respects. You are needed inside. You’re not sure what that manservant of yours is doing.”
“Don’t get caught,” Seth whispered.
“Swear you will disavow me or I can’t do it,” Tanu said.
“Do what?” Seth asked.
“Good boy.”
“Let me join you,” Calvin said quietly. “What’s the harm? I may be able to access otherwise unreachable cavities.”
Tanu paused.
“Take him,” Seth said, removing Calvin from a pocket and passing him to the potion master. Tanu accepted the nipsie and turned away.
Seth hustled back to his table.
Declaration
Kendra watched Seth return to his seat beside her. “What took you so long?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want that to end. Now I can die happy.”
“Where is Tanu?” Kendra asked.
“I think he’s trying to find a restroom,” Seth said.
Celebrant stood once again at the front of the room, the dark wound on the side of his chest now interrupting his platinum perfection. “I apologize for the unplanned diversion. Please enjoy your meal.”
Seth cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Are you all right?”
“I am just fine,” Celebrant assured him. “Don’t le
t me distract you from the meal. The wound is ugly but shallow.”
Kendra turned her attention to the food. She had not been sure what to expect at a dragon feast, but to her relief the fare on the table was not an assortment of bugs or bizarre unmentionables but rather beef, chicken, potatoes, cheese, bread, squash, and soup. She sampled most of it—the meats and vegetables were heavily seasoned but still tasty, the cheese was a little too sharp, the bread was warm and delicious, and the soup tasted like some kind of gooey, creamy punishment.
She was taking a bite of bread when a bugle blared.
“Creya the Eagle, standing in for Raj Faranah of the Zowali Protectorate,” the goblin announcer called.
A large golden eagle glided to a halt beside Kendra, perching on the back of Lord Dalgorel’s chair. “Hello, Dalgorel,” the eagle said in a female voice. “Raj sends his regards.” The bird looked down at Kendra. “You must be the new caretaker.”
“I’m Kendra, and this is my brother, Seth,” Kendra said.
“You’re wearing the medallion, Kendra,” Creya said.
“My turn today,” Kendra said. “We switch off.”
“She’s a proper caretaker,” Karzal said from across the table. “Speaks Gnomish.”
“Did I miss anything?” Creya asked.
Dalgorel chuckled. “Take a look at Celebrant.”
“Sweet mercy!” Creya exclaimed. “What happened to him?”
“Madrigus,” Dalgorel said.
“No—he’s one of their top dragons. He’s part of his guard.”
“Challenged him tonight,” Dalgorel said. “In front of us.”
“I missed it?” Creya complained. “Events like this tend to be dry.”
“Not to a discerning eye,” Dalgorel said. “The currents of politics are always swirling. Tonight certainly had some extra thrills.”
“Somebody finally injured Celebrant,” Creya said.
“It’s the beginning of the end for him,” Dalgorel said.
“Really?” Kendra asked.
“No time soon, mind you,” Dalgorel clarified. “But now he has been challenged by a real contender, and he has been hurt. The scales will grow back, but the memory is forever. Kendra started it all by standing up to him. Authority can be fragile.”