Shiloh looked them over quickly and frowned at Ava. He pulled a thread from the fabric of his shirt and handed to her.
“Bind your hair,” he said. “Or they will find offense in you.”
Ava frowned at the flimsy piece of string. Does he even see my hair? It’ll never hold. But when she gathered her mess of curls into the dragonthread, she found that it seemed to be made of spun steel.
“We leave you with this.” Shiloh looked at his feet as he talked to Ava. “Others would warn you to be silent before the judges. To you, Rane would say follow your mind.”
Shiloh hummed, then faced Cale. “To you, he would say to remember yourself.”
“What does that even mean?” Cale asked.
“You cannot expect us to both speak and interpret,” Shiloh said, his voice harsh again.
Ava could hardly contain her frustration. Too much in the dragon world was unanswerable, based on some instinct that even the dragons did not understand. It frustrated her how often they could know without knowing.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Be grateful. “Thank you, Shiloh.”
Shiloh frowned, looking at Ava for just a moment before his eyes darted away. “It is not me you should thank.”
Ava grinned despite her surroundings. “Then thank Rane for me.”
Shiloh nodded. “Follow,” he said to Cale. And to Ava, “You, human, are not summoned to this court. You must wait. If you are called, you will join him.”
Cale didn’t want to let go of Ava’s hand, and until then, he hadn’t realized that he had been holding it. He blinked, fighting the fear that half-crippled him. He stepped into the blinding lights of the grey court, one of the few dragons to ever have done so. Of those few, none had ever lived.
The door closed soundlessly behind him.
The room was alight with a thousand candles. They shone a piercing white instead of the golden glow of fire Cale loved. It was unnerving, that light, almost unnatural.
“The case of Cale of Anders Nest, of the Red Race.” The voice did not shake the room as Cale thought it would. It didn’t bring Cale to his knees like the call of the no-ir. It didn’t cause him to shudder in terror. It was ordinary. Surprisingly ordinary. And almost muffled, as if the candlelight acted as a barrier. “Are you present?”
Cale couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. He shielded his eyes against the glare and could just make out the blurred faces of seven persons.
“Cale of Anders Nest. Are you present?” the voice repeated.
“Um…yes. I’m here,” Cale said. His own voice echoed before it disappeared into the air. It sounded as though a vacuum had sucked it away.
“Accuser, Judge Sirce of the Seven. Are you present?”
The man’s silver hair swept the floor as he walked through the light. He kept his hands folded in the sleeves of his robe and each of his steps was purposeful. Though his eyes were glass, Cale saw nothing behind them.
He spoke. “Do you confess that you are guilty of attempting to upset the balance of this world?”
It was all Cale could do to keep from reaching out and touching the grey dragon. He was spectacular in ways Cale never thought he’d see. His skin was marble; his voice, no longer muffled by the candles, was hypnotizing. It was thunder bottled up in a crystal vase; it was a knife ripping through velvet. Fear and awe at once.
“Silence is guilt in this court,” he said. “I…I don’t remember the question.”
The judge blinked slowly, impatiently. “Confess your guilt, and we will be finished here. My day is full, dragon.”
“I don’t know what I’m guilty of.”
The grey dragon let the seconds float by before he spoke again. “This world is delicate. You have caught onto a thread, and refuse to stop pulling. If we let you live, the fabric will be undone.”
“Forgive me, but which thread?”
“You lift what should be lowered, boy, and you lower what should be made high. If I had my way, you would never have been born. This day, I will right that wrong.”
“I still don’t–”
“Execute him, Sirce.” The voice that interrupted from behind the candles was more youthful than Sirce’s, and much gruffer, though it was still muddied by the light. “You’ve proven your point about the boy. We haven’t got all day.”
“I deserve to have a fair trial,” Cale blurted out over the thumping of his heart. He prayed that Ava had been right about that.
“Deserve?” Sirce glared at him, and Cale wanted to hide, to find a crevice in a wall and stay there until they had all left. “You deserve death.” The word came off his tongue in a hiss. “That is why you are here, and you will not leave without receiving it.”
The grey looked to the place beyond the candles that Cale could not see. “If my words had been heeded when they were first spoken, if my colleagues were not plagued with weak constitutions, we would have prevented this tainted life altogether.”
“It is not your colleagues who are on trial, Sirce.” The voice was a woman’s. Smooth, collected.
Cale liked to hear the woman speak, but she said nothing more. He was on his own, left to defend himself against crime’s he barely understood. Think, Cale, think. “You… you can’t condemn me for something I haven’t done.”
“What is and what will be are no different to us. It is wise for you to be silent on matters you do not understand.”
“But you told him that silence is guilt, not two minutes ago.”
Cale’s eyes widened at the sound of Ava’s voice. She stepped forward, standing next to Cale, glad for his warmth. Cale noticed that she didn’t shield her eyes like he did.
Sirce’s face betrayed his surprise and fury in a flash. He quickly controlled it, returning to sobriety and dignity. “You were not summoned to this court,” he said to Ava. “Leave.”
“No.”
The grey dragon lowered his hands, revealing a small gray scepter, no bigger than his palm, clutched in his left hand. “You will obey in silence, or we will silence you.”
“Where are all the other riders? Did you kill them all just like you plan to kill us?” Ava took a step forward, choosing to ignore the cold that engulfed her. “We are the closest anyone’s gotten to forming a pact in a hundred years. And that’s because of you, isn’t it?”
“I will only warn you once more to be silent.”
But Ava knew that she had found the truth. It was all around her in the blinding court. It was in all of the faces she couldn’t see. It was in the blank eyes of the judge who held their lives in his scepter.
“All of the dragons who have gifts. All of them who were about to find their riders. You stopped them. And if you couldn’t, you killed them. Confess.”
Sirce stepped forward, his hand raised to strike, his scepter over his head. He moved toward Ava with his face contorted, his gray eyes, once empty, were wild. But Ava stumbled back and, out of instinct, Cale stepped out in front of her.
Sirce froze, his scepter still raised. The greys whispered to one another, their voices nearly muted and a look came over Sirce that terrified even Ava. It was pure rage, pure hatred. His eyes were bathed in red, his nostrils flared. And then it all disappeared in a moment. Only his scowl remained.
“Phoenix,” the judges all whispered. “Phoenix.”
“I hear you,” Sirce snapped at them.
The others fell quiet again. Sirce ground his teeth together before speaking. He bowed to Ava, keeping his eyes on her. “Forgive us. We did not know that a new phoenix lived among us.”
Who is he talking to? Ava looked over her shoulder, then back at Sirce. “A what?”
Cale turned to Ava, his mouth agape, his eyes wide. Her skin glowed gold, shimmers of amber light passing over her like waves.
“What?” she asked Cale as he stared.
He lifted her hand in his so she could see. She couldn’t breathe as she examined her own skin. What. The. Hell. She rubbed her hands off on the dress, but it did
nothing to stop the glow. “Turn it off,” she shouted to Sirce.
The grey dragon lowered his scepter, and the light faded from Ava. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go home. “Cale, what was that?”
Cale shook his head, his mouth still hanging open, his eyes still glued to Ava.
“She is,” another judge said, his muffled words sounding strangely joyous. Sirce closed his eyes as though he was trying incredibly hard to control his temper.
“I’m what?” Ava asked. “Cale, what are they talking about?"
“Ava? Is it true?” he asked in disbelief.
Ava threw her hands up, the tears finally welling in her eyes. She was exhausted, she was cold, and suddenly, she was far, far away from everything she’d ever known.
“Is what true, Cale?”
Cale took her hand in his once more. It was as if the grey court didn’t matter. He wiped the tears that slipped from her eyes with his thumb. “Are you a phoenix, Ava?”
“I’ve never even been to Arizona!” She put her hand to her head. “Why am I a human lightbulb?” She looked around, overwhelmed at the fantasy that flooded her reality. Nothing makes sense, anymore. All of a sudden she realized that she must have been enduring a long, wicked nightmare. It can’t be real. “Why are those candles white? Why does that guy have a scepter? Why can you spit lava? Why am I in a floating castle in the sky?” She was hyperventilating, the air evading her and crushing her at the same time.
“A phoenix.” Cale shook his head. “That can’t be possible.”
Ava sniffled, looking to the judges who, for some reason, were all gathering around her. They were each beautiful in their own way, holding their own majesty in their postures, in the regality of their faces. Ava shook her head, trying to pretend they weren’t there, trying to convince herself that life was normal, that there was nothing to be afraid of.
She cleared her throat. “You mean… you mean the bird that dies and comes back to life? Like from mythology?”
Cale nodded his head, then shook it, then nodded it again. He wasn’t breathing either.
“Cale, I’m not a bird.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sirce said, quieting them all with a wave of his white hand. “The phoenix, of course, can be spared for now. We can still rid ourselves of the dragon.”
Cale stepped in front of Ava, his chest raised, his eyes sharp. “She’ll be spared forever.” He’d had enough. “No one touches Ava.”
“Leave them be,” one of the judges said. His eyes were diamonds, his silver hair cut short. He stared at Ava as though she was something glistening he could put in his pocket. “If the phoenix favors the dragon, let him live.”
“Silence.” Then Sirce closed his eyes, putting on a more respectful air. “You know nothing of what I speak, Brother Lor. It is their union we must prevent. I have seen how it shifts the balance. We cannot allow him to live again. The same mistake twice is more than unwise.”
“I am no fool, Sirce.” Lor crossed his arms. Silver scars crisscrossed his wrists and forearms. Another ran the course of his face, angled from his hairline, across his lips, and down to his chin. “The red will not be able to complete such a pact,” he said. “Not with a Blessed One. Leave the phoenix with her pet.”
Sirce grinded his teeth together. He looked at the other judges, then at Ava. He bowed again, more gracefully, his robe billowing about him. “I will be glad to let the phoenix have her dragon. If only she would grant me a request.”
Ava swallowed. What choice do I have? “What is it?”
“Allow me to be close to you, Blessed One. I will serve you well.”
“You want to…serve me?”
Cale studied the faces of the other judges. Their lips tightened, their eyes narrowed as they observed Sirce. It was an arrangement they did not approve of.
“When your time comes,” Sirce said, still bowing. “Choose me as your patron. And I will gladly let your dragon leave here with you today. Alive and well. Give me your word and you will have mine.”
The potion Shiloh had given her was beginning to wear off. She shivered, longing for the warmth of a bed, for the feeling of a full belly. The lights of the court made it hard for her to concentrate.
Cale wanted Ava to deny him. But he knew it would be suicide. No dragon had ever come back from a grey court hearing alive. If Sirce honored the agreement, if Ava said yes, Cale would be the first to ever be spared–the first and only since time began.
Ava wiped her nose with the back of her hand and tilted her chin up to the judge.
“Deal.”
Nineteen
Descent
Cale and Ava were led to a small room on the other side of the court by a tiny girl with greenish-blue skin. The other sprites who served the grey dragons scattered wordlessly, taking with them the stitch work they had been immersed in before dragon and rider entered the room. It was well furnished compared to the rest of the bare castle. A white fur rug covered the stone floor. Large, wooden arm chairs faced a crackling fire. Cale was about to let out a sigh of relief, but stopped when the door creaked open behind them.
Sirce.
Without the blinding light of the white candles, Cale could see that his gray robe was intricately beaded with the same crystals that were stitched onto the clothes he and Ava wore. In the courtroom, the candles had illuminated every inch of the judge. But with the natural fire flickering throughout the room, shadows played across the grey’s face. He remained near the door, his hands folded together within in the sleeves of his robe.
“You should know that I do not enjoy being bested,” he said. “Especially by a simple red dragon.” And he looked to Ava, handing her a rolled piece of parchment. “But for you, Phoenix, I am nothing but elated.”
Ava took the scroll. It was lighter than paper, as if it was woven from clouds. “I thought we were free to go.”
“You may leave whenever you wish, Blessed One.”
Ava wanted to scream. I’m not a phoenix! I don’t even know what that means! But whatever the judge was talking about had spared their lives. Ava was too smart to deny it until she was sure they were both safe and far, far away from the grey court.
Sirce’s smile sent a shiver up Ava’s spine. His ancient lips slithered upward, showing gray stubs of teeth set in gray gums. Each one was pointed, short, and razor sharp.
“I’m sure you will comply with the rites of rebirth, as are detailed in the scroll, for all our sakes.”
Sirce bowed once more, but when he straightened up, his smile dripped off of his face like a melting candle. “Mark my words, Blessed One. I will have a phoenix. Or I will have a pile of ash.”
Not a moment after the grey left, Shiloh threw the door open, frowning at both Ava and Cale. “Follow. Quickly.”
Cale and Ava could hardly keep up with him as he walked. “Why are we rushing?” Ava questioned. “We’re free.”
“Do you feel free?” Shiloh asked over his shoulder.
Ava glanced at Cale. He reached out and took her hand in his, just for a second. Her fingers were ice in his grasp. They both felt it. The danger pressing in on them. The eyes of the walls and rafters soaking in their every move.
“I am not wrong.” He tapped his chest. “Rane also has seen it.”
“Seen what?” Ava asked, still trying to keep up with the no-ir rider as he traversed the maze of hallways.
“In four months’ time, you, rider, will die.”
Ava stopped in her tracks. Her mouth was dry. Her mind refused to entertain what Shiloh had said and instead, it shut the words out, choosing to ignore them for its own preservation.
Cale, however, reached out to the shoulder of the black rider. The cloth of Shiloh’s shirt was thinner than leather, so the touch seared Cale’s hand, but he tried not to let it show on his face. “I’m not taking another step until you tell me what you mean.”
Shiloh narrowed his black eyes at Cale. “Then I will leave you here.”
Ava looked to Shiloh,
to the rider who was hardly human, hardly dragon. She was unable to hide the fear from her eyes, but she knew that none of that fear came from Shiloh.
“Help us,” she whispered. “One more time.”
Shiloh’s face remained unchanged, not because he didn’t care to help, but because he had already decided he would. “I will show you the way back down.”
“What about Ava? What you saw?” Cale wanted to wrap Ava in his arms and hide her from the world, from Sirce, from Shiloh.
Shiloh stepped closer to them, his eyes looking to the ceiling, to the spies that Ava and Cale couldn’t see. “Perhaps the phoenix already knows the answer.”
The pearl, Ava thought. The answer to every question.
Shiloh stepped onto one of the windowsills in the hallway. Although the court was much closer to the ground than the dungeon, Ava and Cale couldn’t see anything besides clouds. Silver clouds and the night sky.
“We will jump now,” Shiloh said, his black cloak billowing around him as he stooped on the sill.
Rane’s wings sounded like a tornado as he hovered just below the window. Cale shook his head, stepping backwards. “No no no no. I can’t ride that thing.”
Shiloh frowned. “Why can you not fly yourself? You are pacted now.”
“We won’t know if it worked until sunrise at Great Nest.”
Both Ava and Cale chose not to speak of what the judges had said. They didn’t dare look at each other. Cale felt miles away from his rider, like maybe he had imagined her. Or worse. Maybe I imagined what I felt for her.
“Will you take us, Shiloh?” Ava asked. She put an arm on Cale, but his muscles stiffened beneath her touch.
“Staying calm for my sake won’t help, Ava,” Cale said, chewing on the inside of his mouth, losing the battle against his anxiety. “I’m not meant to ride a black dragon. I just can’t.” He pulled away from her, inching backwards. “I’ll walk.”
Shiloh stared at him. “You cannot walk out of the sky.”
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