by Amparo Ortiz
Then the roaring ends.
“What the actual hell was that?” I ask.
At first, all I get is silence.
Then a startled Génesis says, “They showed us the truth … I could see it so clearly …”
“See what clearly?”
“War,” Gabriela and Luis say together.
Andrew leans forward. “Did you just say war?”
“Sí,” says Edwin. “Los dragones quieren salvar al papá de Lana.”
I lean back, hands raised in surprise. The dragons want to save Papi. They can get to Brazil using the Fade. It’s the fastest anyone can get there without a wand. My best bet.
“Are you sure that’s what they said?” Joaquín asks.
“The dragons have been desperate to use their powers for something greater,” says Héctor. “It’s like I told you—the ring of fire was a call to arms.” He stops long enough to take a breath. “But they’re begging us to go with them. They don’t want to fight alone.”
I’m rocked to the core, shaking again. There’s not a single spell in the history of magic that can get rid of the jitters this time. They’re not from stress or pain; they’re an electric jolt of hope coursing through all that I am. “Then hop on!”
“No!” Victoria is on the verge of tears. “Saving people from terrorists is the bureau’s job. The dragons belong in this stadium. You’re putting our safety at risk by asking us to leave.”
With a swerve, I get past Andrew and Edwin, landing so close to Victoria that we could slow dance. “You play the most dangerous sport in the world! You’ve faced the Zmey Gorynych and the Pangolin dragon, and you’re afraid of one Dragon Knight? Are you kidding?!”
“There could be threats we don’t know about,” says Génesis. “This is clearly a trap.”
I wish I could contradict her. This reeks of a trap. But this is also my father. I refuse to do nothing just because I’m scared. I’d rather get hurt than see him suffer because of me.
“Don’t forget about our contracts,” Génesis says. “Victoria’s right regarding our safety.”
Luis holds up a hand to her. “We need to think about President Turner, too. His safety’s on the line just as much as ours. Maybe even more.”
“What do you mean?” Andrew says.
“We can’t piss the Sire off without risking Turner’s life.” Héctor tries to play it cool with a shrug. “You know how much the Sire hates the IBF, right? The president is a likely target.”
He’s right. If we go after Takeshi, President Turner could be tortured or killed. He’s the only one the Sire can hurt without relying on his cronies. Of course he’ll be the first to suffer.
“Do you think the dragons can Fade other people into the Dark Island?” Joaquín says. He pays no mind to the way Andrew’s leaning closer to him as if to check he’s hearing correctly.
“Oh yeah. They’re stronger now than ever before,” Gabriela replies.
“Then hide President Turner inside the Dark Island.” Joaquín ignores everyone’s raised eyebrows. “Magic doesn’t work there. Your contracts will be null and void. They might not even carry any magical weight once the president is brought out. You’ll be protecting him from magic that could threaten his life. Magic that can’t be undone, like those contracts.”
He doesn’t say the words “Anchor Curse,” but I can read them all over his face.
I’ve never wished to hug anyone as much as I do right now. This is the missing piece. “Joaquín … you’re a genius. An actual, honest-to-God genius!”
“Hang on, lads.” Andrew butts in. “What’s the Dark Island?”
“Shut up!” Victoria snaps at him, then zeroes in on Joaquín. “This is way too risky.”
“I would never put you at risk. Neither would your dragons. They know you’re prepared, even if you haven’t accepted it yet,” Joaquín says. “Go ahead. Ask them if my plan will work.”
Victoria doesn’t move.
Héctor closes his eyes, though, as if reaching out to Titán.
The dragons roar again, but this time, their riders aren’t bent over in excruciating pain.
“That’s a resounding yes,” says Gabriela. “They’re ready.”
“They’re ready …” Luis repeats with less enthusiasm.
Edwin pulls him close, smiling, and Génesis grabs Luis’s hand. “I get it. I’m terrified, too, but maybe the only way we’ll know if we’re ready to fight the Sire is to just do it.”
“Okay, but how do we get out of here without being stopped?” Luis asks.
“Act like you’re playing the match,” Joaquín says. “Then go find Lana’s father.”
Takeshi could have a battalion of Dragon Knights protecting him, with Un-Bonded dragons guarding the sanctuary. I could be sending myself off to my death. My teammates could be, too. But if their dragons feel this is the way to go, I trust them. There’s no greater guarantee against the Sire’s pawns than those six majestic creatures from the Caribbean.
“I’m in,” I say.
Then I turn to Andrew. He’s frothing at the mouth to find out what we’re talking about. Or maybe he’s eager to beat the crap out of the boy who was once worth believing in. I know I can save my father without Andrew. I just don’t want to. If anyone deserves to witness Takeshi’s downfall, it’s him. Maybe this is how he lets go for good. How he heals and moves on.
“Come with me, Andrew. The more fighters we have, the better, especially if they’re as fast as you. Besides”—I press a hand against his chest—“we both know the Cup isn’t your dream. Let’s fight for something you do care about, and let’s fight for it together.”
Andrew nods like he’s been waiting for me to say that. “He was my best friend,” he says firmly. “He’s hurt me, too. I’d like the chance to spit on his face—to see me standing against everything he’s become.” He turns to my teammates. “Now whose dragon am I hopping on?”
Holy. Crap. I wouldn’t have guessed this moment would ever come. Andrew Galloway is no longer a Takeshi Endo apologist. Better late than never.
“You can ride with me,” Héctor says.
“Thanks, mate.”
“I hate you all,” a red-cheeked Victoria whispers. She’s made of tremors and crackling rage. “Esperanza and I are staying behind. You can go ruin everything without us.” She’s glaring at me now. “Your dad’s probably dead. Now you’re killing my hopes, too. Thanks a lot.”
“Victoria.” Héctor stands between us. “Don’t.”
A dragon’s shrill cry fills up the stadium, a song of the heaviest misery and grief.
Esperanza. She sounds … destroyed.
Victoria winces but recovers just in time for the staff to pull us all into position again. As Andrew disappears to rejoin his team, a sharp pang hits me hard. I despise Victoria for not letting Esperanza, the strongest and largest dragon in the lineup, come fight with us.
But Victoria can hate us all she wants. Her dragon hates her more.
We’re called out to march, despite Esperanza’s cries. The crowd is as welcoming as ever, cheering for us and waving that beautiful Puerto Rican flag high. I try not to focus on them for long. I can’t watch them hope for something that’s not going to happen. The Scottish fans are also lighting up the stadium with their flags and chants while their team files out.
“Captains, shake hands!” the referee commands.
Andrew and Héctor do as they’re told.
“Runners, to the starting line! Riders, mount your steeds!”
Andrew and I jog to the starting line. A sourpuss Victoria is the slowest to mount her steed. Esperanza is still weeping, but no one checks what’s wrong. I’m hoping no one can see how bad my knees are shaking, how hard my chest pops up and down from the frantic heartbeats pounding inside. All six dragons are flying high. While the Scottish Striker positions himself near the referee, Héctor nods to the teammates who’ve chosen to help me. They all nod back.
Five Sol de Noche dragons shift their b
odies toward the box seats. They leave Victoria and Esperanza to face the ref, who’s holding up the Rock Flame.
The ref blows his whistle. “Everybody back in formation! The game’s about to start!”
All five dragons face a confused President Turner. To be fair, everyone inside the box seats is super confused except for Joaquín, who’s beaming. The dragons roar at the exact same time, lifting their heads, closing their eyes. Black smoke swirls around President Turner, slow at first, then faster and faster until he’s smothered in the darkest cloud.
He’s gone.
“Now!” Héctor yells.
The five dragons descend. I sprint to Gabriela and Puya, who both dive down to fetch me. Whistle after whistle goes off. A few poorly aimed spells fly past me. While Andrew’s jumping onto Titán with Héctor’s help, Gabriela yanks me up onto Puya’s back. The saddle is only big enough for one rider, so Andrew and I sit on the dragon’s scales. Thankfully, our suits protect us from discomfort or injury. Once I’m settled behind Gabriela, she tells Puya to soar high. The wind slaps the crap out of me on the way up. I can’t hear anything but the flapping of massive, glorious wings and a dragon’s battle cry.
I do see one thing, though. A tearful Victoria bent low atop her steed, ignoring our escape, and a wailing Esperanza watching brothers and sisters disappear from the stadium.
Then the black smoke returns, and I can’t see them anymore.
The Weekly Scorcher: How would you describe your Bond, Mr. Barnes?
Edward Barnes: Enlightening. My steed has taught me so much about his species, as well as what it takes to be a better rider. I’m constantly fascinated with the way his mind works.
The Weekly Scorcher: What exactly makes it fascinating to you?
Edward Barnes: How vast it feels. There’s an infinite amount of thoughts blasting toward me. It’s like stepping into a maze, and it can be easy to feel like you’re never getting out.
—Excerpt from a 1988 interview with Edward Barnes, on his one-year bureau anniversary
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SO FADING IS NOTHING LIKE TRANSPORTING.
First, there’s the whole matter of riding a dragon. Puya is very much used to being in the air, while I’m not. Even though he flies like a dream, without any rough dives or death-defying turns, it still takes me a minute to get comfortable. I shift from side to side as a mighty wind whips my face. With every sudden tug on the saddle, my heart hammers to the rhythm of an electric drill breaking into cement.
Second, my suit’s magic is fizzling out. The fabric might as well be cooking burgers from how much it’s sizzling. And it weighs more than usual. The magic that makes it an airy, cozy fit is no longer helping me breathe or move with ease. I feel so, so naked.
Then there’s the tunnel. Fading is like being stuck in a cylinder-shaped highway, but instead of seeing concrete walls as you fly past them, you see these white tendrils that span forever on either side. You’re swept into a void of matching ivory farther ahead, peering beyond the tendrils to catch a glimpse of the vast darkness that sweeps everything outside.
My teammates had been right about the Dark Island. It’s a deserted beach, blanketed by the night sky, where scorpion-dark palm trees sprout from the blackest sand. Even the ocean water is black, with waves crashing into one another instead of reaching the shore. That giant pit with the claw towers is there, too. So is the bone throne right at the beach’s center.
President Turner is standing a few feet away from it, yelling something with all his might. I can’t make it out. A shimmering light flickers on and off around the throne. It must be the shield my teammates told Joaquín about.
“Hang tight!” Luis yells. “We’ll be back after we kick Dragon Knight ass!”
“How’s it going back there?” Gabriela asks me.
“Still alive and still not puking!”
“Awesome. We’ll be there in a few seconds!”
Leaving the tunnel is like walking through fog. There’s a slight shift in how my eyes perceive what’s around me, but the rest doesn’t feel any different. My suit’s fabric no longer sounds like it’s cooking burgers. It’s not squeezing me, either. I’m once again wearing a snug uniform that fits like a dream. My suit is slowly being repowered, so the feeling of being naked fades.
A crescent moon hangs in the São Paulo sky. Despite the darkness, I scour the area. Perfectly round copses of trees dot every square inch of the grounds below. Some stand tall, while others have fallen into scorched heaps. Flying spells strike the area where the trees have been torn down. The majority are coming from the left side, where an army of Dragon Knights casts its vicious magic.
Eight Pesadelos, all Un-Bonded escapees, shoot flames across the forest at the handful of surviving sanctuary guards. Their wings serve as shields from spells, keeping them and the Dragon Knights safe. They bite at the air after each fireball throw, which is their way of menacing opponents. Violet #43 is nowhere to be found.
“We have to get down there. Those guards are going to die!” Gabriela says. She leads Puya closer to Titán until they’re next to each other. “Héctor! What’s the plan?”
“Get Lana and Andrew to the sanctuary! Once they’re dropped off, the four of you turn around and fight these bastards! Titán and I will stay with the Runners!”
Gabriela nods, then tells Puya to soar onward.
The forest stretches farther and farther, until there it is, right at the center of burning green—The São Paulo Sanctuary for Un-Bonded Dragons. It has five separate buildings, which all are connected by metal bridges in the shape of dragon tails. The eastern wings are offices and meeting rooms. The western wings are observatories and labs. Habitats are located in the middle. One western wing has been laid to waste, smashed and scorched and useless. Half of the other western wing is still there. So are both of the eastern wings.
I point to the left building in the east. “My father should be there!”
Gabriela gives Puya the command to drop. There’s no sign of Dragon Knight activity near the mechanical doors. Still, when Puya hovers close to the dragon-tail bridge, I wait for Héctor’s signal before jumping off. He nods at me, then at Andrew.
We get down at the same time.
The bridge is as steady as I hoped. The only commotion is miles away, where the guards are slowly losing the battle. Luis and Edwin shield us on either side while Héctor dismounts Titán. Gabriela and Génesis stay a little higher than the boys, looking out for airborne threats.
BOOM!
“Take cover!” I duck and shield my head with both arms. Even though the explosion went off right in front of me, there’s no debris flying around. No sparks, no smoke. There is, however, a pair of recently polished Nikes. And they’re camel colored.
Samira Jones, BFF extraordinaire, has Transported to Brazil.
She holds up her Copper wand, decked out in black Nike sweatpants and a pink hoodie.
I almost faint. “Oh my God! Samira? Is that really you?”
“Yes, dummy! I wasn’t about to let you run off to fight Dragon Knight trash without my help this time.” Samira stares at her wand, terrified that it’s going to break in half. “Please don’t embarrass me, baby. I love you. Please don’t fall apart right now. Pleeeeeaaaase.”
The wand doesn’t fall apart. It’s as sturdy as ever.
“It didn’t break! Yessssss!”
“How did you know I was here?” I ask.
“Bureau agents came to take us to another Other Place. President Turner alerted them of your dad’s kidnapping. They wouldn’t say where he was or who took him, but I hung around close enough to overhear them talking about Takeshi and this sanctuary.” Samira backs away from me. “I watched your team disappear from the stadium as we were abandoning our Other Place. I knew you’d come here. I couldn’t let you face danger by yourself, girl.”
“So now we have a witch on our side?” Andrew says with a huge grin. “Brilliant.”
Samira gapes at him. “You
’re Andrew Galloway …”
Héctor claps his hands. “Can we get back to the mission, please?”
“Yes. Sorry, Héctor Sánchez.” Samira fawns over him, too. “Carry on, team captain.”
Héctor blushes as he looks up at the other riders. He clears his throat. “Um … Get back to the battleground! I’ll join you as soon as I can, but if you need more help, call out for us!”
“Got it,” Génesis says. She zooms out of view with Rayo. Luis, Gabriela, and Edwin trail behind with their steeds, boldly hurtling themselves into the thick of the Sire’s war.
BANG!
Blasts of magic strike the bridge.
Three Dragon Knights barrel toward us from the opposite building.
Titán launches himself in front of us. He blows a cloud of flames at the Dragon Knights. When the fire clears, all that’s left are dark cloaks and the bones underneath. Holy freaking crap, the Sol de Noches can incinerate humans in a snap. Not that I feel bad for these guys. It’s one thing to know your team’s dragons are strong, and it’s another to actually witness their strength.
Héctor signals for us to run, so I bolt to the mechanical doors.
They’re jammed.
“Let me try,” says Samira. She uses her wand to lift a piece of concrete into the air, then magically slams it against the doors. They shatter at once. “Okay. Go time.”
BANG!
More Dragon Knights scurry in from the opposite building, along with the level below, scattered everywhere like ants.
“Inside now!” Héctor mounts Titán. Samira takes aim at the Dragon Knights on the bridge, but Héctor shakes his head. “I’ll handle it! Run!”
I grab her at once. We disappear into the building, along with Andrew. The corridor ends a few steps before it should, since the stairwell’s been smashed to bits. Flickering electric lights surround us. I shudder. I’ve never walked into a haunted house, but this place is giving me VENGEFUL GHOSTS LIVE HERE vibes. Samira manipulates each chunk of concrete to make a staircase. I’m the first to jump up, careful not to lose my balance. I make it to the third floor.