by Amparo Ortiz
The rain of fire ends about a foot before the first Block Zone. I plow right into it. When Kirill drops to the sand, blocking my path, I have no choice but to stop.
“Good afternoon, Bullet!” Kirill says with that contagious smile. “Let’s dance, shall we?”
“Come and get it, Blueberry.”
I’m about to run past him when I seize my chance to throw a punch.
Kirill evades me. He grabs my arm, then hammers his fist down hard on my shoulder.
“Ugh!” I plummet onto the sand then roll over.
Kirill steals the Iron Scale at once, then throws it back to the beginning of the path, where I’ll lose my advantage recovering it. “That was a shorter dance than I expected,” he says. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll save you the next one so we can spend more time together.”
He mounts his dragon and blows me a kiss goodbye.
I run full speed back to the base of the mountain.
“Russia scores!” Jeffrey Hines shouts into the mic. “The first half of the match is over!”
Ziven Belinksy zooms up his mountain. I swear it takes him five seconds flat to get to the first Block Zone. Edwin is his opponent. There are punches and kicks thrown everywhere. I grab the Iron Scale, clip it to my belt again, then keep my speedy momentum on the journey to the top. Kirill’s dragon is coming at me with less mercy than before, an explosion of fireballs shadowing my every move, but I escape. When I step onto the first Block Zone again, Ziven has already defeated Edwin. He’s fleeing farther up his mountain, holding a solid advantage.
Keep. Going.
Kirill greets me in the first Block Zone. “You really need to stop following me. People will start getting ideas.”
The jerk makes me smile. “You did promise me a second dance. I’m here to collect.”
I’m back to full combat mode. Kirill and I spar longer than the first time, with Kirill using those hammer fists over and over, but I don’t expose the Iron Scale to his grasp again. I dodge one of his blows, then kick his legs out from under him. Kirill lands flat on his back.
I bolt out of the first Block Zone. I don’t even have time to celebrate my victory over a Volkov. Ziven is sparring with Génesis in the second Block Zone. My heart sings in the highest notes as Génesis yanks the Iron Scale from Ziven’s belt. She throws it all the way down to the foot of the mountain. He has to start the entire path again.
OH MY GOD. YES, I LOVE YOU, GIRL.
As I enter the second Block Zone, Artem drops in front of me this time, stopping me dead in my tracks. “Hello, Lana,” he says with a curt nod. “Pleasure to finally fight you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
I wait for him to strike first. He doesn’t. So I take my chance to outrun him. He kicks my legs from under me, tripping me in the process, but I don’t fall. I pull on Artem’s arm, then send an elbow to his chest. He barely retreats. I don’t even think he’s hurt. Despite my numerous efforts to clock him, he keeps evading me like the pro he is. Artem’s doing everything he can to make this last an eternity, never hitting me first, never blocking my blows, but instead deflecting my fists and kicks only to punch me in return. Even though I’m keeping the Iron Scale away from his reach, he never tries to grab it, either. It’s like he doesn’t even want to steal it.
I stop. I’m a panting, sweating blob of a human being, but I haven’t stopped because of my exhaustion. I stopped because I have no idea what Artem Volkov is trying to do.
“You could’ve taken the Iron Scale already,” I say.
“I could have.” Artem is also frozen in place.
Then he drops us both to the sand. He snatches the Iron Scale and rushes off.
I tackle him from behind, then pry the Iron Scale from his grasp. He chases me, but he never catches up. I zoom past the second Block Zone. At some point, Artem mounts his dragon. I lose count of how many fireballs I dodge. Kirill’s dragon is no better. My boots pound the hardened sand without pause. I’m a wreck of even mightier rage than ever before.
I make it to the third and final Block Zone. Artem drops into the combat area.
“Give me your all, Torres,” he says, “because that’s exactly what I’ll give you.”
He’s not lying. Our fight starts the same way as the last one, with me hurtling onward, and Artem avoiding every blow like he’s made of water. I can’t shake him off. He’s not grabbing at the Iron Scale. Then Artem kicks me in the shin and slams his shoulder into me, so I fall.
On the way to the ground, I drive my fist with all the power I can muster to his nose. There’s a loud crack, followed by a smattering of blood droplets. I push myself up as he doubles over. Ziven is still sparring with Génesis in the second Block Zone. I’m free to win the match.
The mountain ends on a peak so high, I can almost touch the dimming sun. I jog to the stone platform. After unhooking the Iron Scale from my belt, I drop it where it belongs. It clicks into place. A beam of the hottest flames shoots out of the stone and into the afternoon sky. It remains in a rigid straight line, as if it’s conjuring up a Bat-Signal to send for help.
The match is over.
“Puerto Rico wins!” Jeffrey boasts to thunderous, never-ending applause.
I don’t know when my team swoops onto the mountaintop. I don’t know whose arms crush me first, but soon, more are crushing me even tighter. “¡Ganamos!” They all yell that we’ve won.
I flash a huge smile for the cameras, but it’s not nearly as big as it would’ve been had I won without the Sire threatening to kill me. This day will be remembered as the day I sent my team to quarterfinals. The history books won’t mention the Sire as one of the reasons why. They won’t talk about how he’s promised to burn a random city if the Cup continues, even though he’s the one who can cancel it. That he’s making himself look like a hero while he pulls our strings.
But I’ll always know.
Now I just need to know what he’s planning.
“How do you define power? It’s a simple question, but most people answer it incorrectly. They think it means telling others what to do. Control over someone’s actions isn’t enough. You need to make sure everyone knows what you’re capable of. My rivals on the Blazewrath field are well aware of my talent. But I don’t speak to them. All I do is show up, and they cower before me. Power is nothing more than a promise. Don’t cross me, and I won’t hurt you.”
—Transcript from 2015 paparazzo footage of Antonio Deluca exiting a nightclub in Milan, four months before Hikaru’s murder and Deluca’s disappearance
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WE’RE ALL HUDDLED CLOSE IN THE LOCKER ROOM, ABOUT TO head to the showers, when Joaquín shuts the door behind us and says, “Tell us everything that happened when Esperanza Faded.”
He’s speaking to Victoria. Like me, her smile flickers on and off”, available only when someone is paying attention. But unlike me, she’s shivering.
“V? You okay?” Luis asks.
“I think my suit’s broken. It stopped cooling me right after I got back.”
No one speaks, but we’re all in the same “What the hell is going on?” boat. Even Manny looks like he’s been slapped. He’s stationed close to the wall, far away from the team. I can’t blame him. As if the thought of watching a city get scorched down tonight isn’t terrible enough, now we have to deal with whatever’s happening to our dragons’ magic, too.
“What do you think is making your suit malfunction?” I ask.
“I’m not sure, but that Fade was intense.” Victoria sits on a bench, hugging herself. “Whenever I’ve been Transported, there’s been a crack of white light. This time, there was just black sand for miles and miles. There were small puddles here and there but no ocean. It was like a half-formed beach at the end of the world.”
What. The. Hell. Could the dragons be getting stronger? Or at least Esperanza? She’s the only one capable of Fading with her rider mounted on her back. Then there’s Victoria’s suit. Can Esperanza’s magic mess up o
ther spells? Or did something else make the suit go haywire? The timing of Esperanza’s reveal kills me more than anything. Why not wait until we were back at the Compound house? This isn’t our secret anymore.
“Once you were inside this half-formed beach,” Joaquín says, “what did Esperanza do?”
“She kept flying across the sand. It was like she knew the way all along. She never acted surprised by what happened. Then we were back here.”
“And there was no white light?”
“No white light.”
I pipe in. “Do you think this … dark island place … is real? Like, an actual place on a map that she took you to. Or do you think her magic created it?”
“This.” Joaquín points at me. “I have my theories, but I want to hear you first, Victoria.”
“I don’t think it’s real,” she says. “I think Esperanza created it like an Other Place.”
“But dragons aren’t known to create Other Places,” Gabriela says. “It’s never been recorded in history, has it?”
Edwin shakes his head. “Nunca.”
He’s right. This is unprecedented.
“Maybe dragons have done it before,” Génesis says. “It’s just not in the history books.”
Héctor exhales long and hard. “Something tells me this really is the first time.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Call it a gut feeling. Besides, Esperanza didn’t wait to be alone with us to do it. She waited until the cameras were on her.” Héctor nudges Victoria softly. “I think she wanted everyone to know how strong you both are.”
But wouldn’t that piss off the Sire?
I turn to Joaquín. “Did the Sire order the dragons to Fade during the match?”
“The people in this room are the only ones who know about the Fade, Lana,” he says. “Esperanza acted out of her own free will.”
The room is quiet save for our breathing. I watch my teammates revel in Joaquín’s words, sharing the same shy smiles, as if they’ve achieved a secret victory. I’m the only one drifting closer to the wall. What if Esperanza’s choice to flaunt her Bond with Victoria leads the Sire to punish us despite the fact that we won the match? Would his anger prove he really is after the Bond’s rupture? Or would it simply teach us not to do anything he hasn’t ordered us to do?
“What is it, Lana?” Manny says. “You look like your brain is melting.”
“I’m just wondering what happens next. Do you think the Sire will retaliate against Esperanza for using magic he didn’t know about?”
“Not if we all pretend we didn’t know about it, either,” Joaquín says. “And we won’t publicly call it a Fade. There will be no mention of the Dark Island. Esperanza Transported. Period.” He backs up from the bench, making his way to the door. “Hit the showers and meet me outside when you’re done. The conference room must be filling up with ravenous reporters.”
Manny says, “You heard the man. Clean up. You all smell terrible.”
So we shower. Afterward, we get dressed again, this time in our team tracksuits, then parade out into the conference hall, where dozens of reporters and photographers salivate over our arrival. We sit onstage, say hello into the microphones, and smile our best smiles.
“Victoria, what can you tell us about your dragon’s newly revealed magical talent?”
“Victoria, did you plan that move with Esperanza beforehand? Or was that spontaneous?”
“Victoria, walk us through the moment your dragon vanished from the field.”
“Victoria, why is Esperanza the only one who can perform this kind of magic?”
I tune most of her answers out, but I hear her confirm that Esperanza Transported. After the press conference, we get our picture taken with the Puerto Rican flag in the backdrop. We’re filmed staring up at the scoreboard in the stadium lobby, which proclaims us the second winners of the Round of Sixteen. When we’re finally whisked back to the Compound, I sink into a nap.
This is the only time I’m allowing myself some rest tonight.
I have to stay awake for the news.
I have to see which city burns.
ANDREW’S LEFT ME SEVEN MESSAGES IN MY BLAZEREEL LIVE APP INBOX. That was after he tried to Live Video Call me.
The app’s notification alert must’ve been going off while I napped. I go through his messages. They’re all some variation of “Your dragons can Transport? Call me ASAP!”
My shoulders drop. Why did he have to contact me? Talking about Esperanza’s Fade means keeping secrets again. But if I don’t call, he’ll know something’s up. He’s even forgotten all about his pride and called me, so this is probably something he won’t let go. Hopefully, I’ll be convincing enough to kill his curiosity.
I hit the Live Video Call icon under Andrew’s avatar. A yellow circle pulses around it.
He picks up on the second ring.
“And here I was starting to think you’d run off to join the Rockettes.” Andrew’s face fills up the whole screen. He squints at the camera as he leans in closer. “Did I just wake you up? How can you even sleep at a time like this?” Andrew shakes his head in slo-mo. “Unbelievable.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you done? ’Cause I can hang up if you want.”
“Hanging up is punishable in a court of law.” Andrew backs away from the camera. He’s ruffling his hair with both hands. “How long have you known about Esperanza’s power? Can the other dragons Transport, too?” He says it all in one breath, his eyes wide and expectant.
I look at the wall across my room. “Esperanza showed us she could Transport during the match. She’s the only one who can do it.”
“For now,” Andrew says. “The other dragons didn’t seem surprised. That means this kind of magic is part of their evolution. Maybe they can’t all perform it right now, but they’ll be able to soon. They must feel their magic changing.”
“Mm-hmm.” I stretch my back, even though I don’t need to. “Maybe.”
“Which means they could potentially cast other spells down the line.” Andrew chews on his bottom lip, lost in his thoughts. “Walk me through Esperanza’s Transport step-by-step. How did it happen exactly? I’m trying to see if something provoked it.”
“Nothing provoked it.” I don’t want to talk about the Fade anymore, though hanging up would be such a bad look, and I can’t have him hounding my teammates for information or snooping around on his own. “Tell me about yourself. How’ve you been since your protest?”
Andrew’s face falls. He’s the one looking away now. “Mum reached out,” he whispers.
“What did she say?”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s overreacting. But I guess all good mums are like that.”
A Warheads candy ball is nowhere near as sour as he sounds. Maybe his mom gave him the best advice in the universe, but from the way Andrew looks like he’s been shot through the heart, I’m guessing Ms. Galloway must’ve told him something he didn’t want to hear.
I slouch, rubbing my face in exhaustion. I can’t freaking believe I have to open up about my own mother to see if it’ll make him open up about his. I’m already cringing, and I haven’t even spoken a word about Mom yet. “You’re lucky. My mother would never have called me. She doesn’t care about my safety. Not anymore.”
Andrew’s so close to the camera again. “What do you mean?”
I take a long, deep breath. It does nothing to soothe me. “She signed my contract and said that was all the support I was getting from her. Mom’s hated dragons since I was five years old.”
“Because of the Pesadelo? Or did she hate them before the attack?”
I gape at him. “Wow. I didn’t know you’d been Googling me.”
“News channels have been going wild with facts about you. Not my fault you’re everywhere.” Andrew’s smile is tight. “Tell me about it, though. How it went down.”
“You already read everything that went down.”
“Tell me anyway,” he says with a soft, considerate tone. H
e urges me on with a nod.
Everything comes rushing back as if a dam has been blown apart in my brain. Reliving it all out loud makes me squirm and scratch the back of my head, even though it doesn’t itch. Mom doesn’t deserve to be spoken of like this. But from the way Andrew stares at me like he’s on the verge of jumping through the screen and tackle-hugging me, I know my distraction is working.
“And then Violet #43 tried to kill me after I invaded her habitat.”
I explain how Violet #43 had been asleep when I broke into her home. How the guards assigned to watch her had been playing cards in a broom closet. Papi and Mom had been busy with something on his computer. They didn’t notice me slipping out of his office. I’d wanted to memorize her huge violet wings; her long, thin snout; her tar-black claws. I wasn’t counting on waking her up. I remember the flames darting around me in a storm of heat and certain death. In my panic, I’d headed deeper into the habitat instead of bolting for the door. My short legs helped me soar past trees while the Pesadelo hunted me down. Her roars almost tore the building apart. Papi barged into the habitat along with six other staff members.
The way my mother screamed that night … I had no idea anyone could scream like that.
A tear slips down my cheek, then another. Damn it. I wipe them off, lowering my head before more tears tumble out of me. First, Marisol catches me off guard and coaxes me into talking about stuff, and now this crap happens. My team just won a historic match, and this is how I’m celebrating? Come on, girl. Get it together.
“Don’t do that,” Andrew says.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll stop crying in a minute.”
“No, no, no. You should cry. I mean don’t force yourself not to cry. Let it all out.” Andrew shrugs. “I can’t assume to know your mum’s thought process, but I think she still loves you regardless of how she treated you after Waxbyrne. Do I think she’s in the wrong? Of course, but the thing about people is they tend to love us their way, not the way we’d want them to love us. We can tell them loads of times. We can draw them a bloody map. Sometimes their way is the only way that makes sense to them. Our voices are just white noise.”