The prison cells all seemed empty as Ava and Cale slowed their pace. Their occupants were still because they were lifeless, nothing but bones and spoiled flesh. They’d met their end in solitude—maybe begging, maybe fighting to squeeze through the bars, to make some kind of contact with another life before theirs was no more. And the worst part—they didn’t deserve it. They deserved honor. They deserved to live long and well, their grandchildren around them, the songs of their herd carrying them home. Not like this. The good ones should not end like this.
The sprite stopped before the cell and pointed at it. Then, without a sound, she handed over the key and flitted away to wherever her mistress awaited her.
Ava jumped off Cale’s back and gasped. “Shiloh.”
He was there, wrapped in his black cloak, tucked into darkness in the furthest corner of the cell.
And behind Ava, without warning, there was someone else whose words tickled her neck. “My God, help us.”
Ava swiveled and almost stabbed Pendulus.
“I could have killed you,” Ava hissed at him. “What are you doing in here?”
“The others told me you came once I returned from my rounds. But how could you get in? Even I cannot.”
“A little butterfly person,” Ava answered. “She had a key.” The dragons would always be surprising to her. Tiny blue people and massive black beasts. Nothing was what she expected.
“A sprite should not have keys, either. They’re servant class. She must have stolen it. It would not be strange. Shiloh is loved by many, even in the lower realms.” Pendulus took the key, unlocked the cell and pulled open the iron bars. He rushed in and checked his friend’s vitals, touching his legs and arms and feeling for broken bones.
“How do we heal him?” Ava asked. She knew fire wouldn’t work, not like it did for reds. “What’s your core made of, Pendulus?”
He shook his head, hoisting Shiloh up. “There is nothing that can be done.” He lifted his friend as best he could and rested him on Cale’s back. “We must get him to Rane. That will help.”
Ava nodded. Of course it would. Even being near Cale made it easier for him to heal when he was injured. “Where is Rane?”
“On the roof. I cannot take you there. It is not allowed for me. It is only for dragons. But Meel can show you the way.”
“It’s okay for Shiloh to go up there?”
Pendulus didn’t have to think about it. “For Shiloh, the rules have already been broken. What is one more? But I must remain here. I will do my best to stall the others.”
“Stall them?”
He nodded. “They will be ordered to hunt Shiloh. And to kill him. I will do what I can to give him more time.” He knelt down and opened the flap of his leather satchel. Meel snarled at him until he spoke in black tongue. It was mostly vowel sounds that floated out of his mouth and down to his dragon.
The dragon snorted his refusal.
“Meel, they must go now,” Pendulus said. “Be decent for once in your life.”
Meel waited a moment, than waddled out of his bag. He led the way, his stubby legs hurrying along as they went up the stone staircase and to the roof.
The stars would have been beautiful. They powdered the deep of night, a shimmering network of silver and blue and gold. But on the roof, the heaving of a roaring, wailing dragon overtook all. If heartbreak could be a sound, it would be the call that came from Rane. He was chained to the center of the training circle with metal links pinning him down beneath a net of iron.
He strained, every muscle near tearing as he fought to get free. He couldn’t change size beneath his prison. Ava attacked the chains with her dragonblade, but they were made of something else. Something too strong.
“I can’t Cale,” she shouted as sparks flew from metal striking metal. “I can’t break them.”
Ava abandoned her efforts and rushed to her dragon, helping him slide Shiloh off his back and resting the rider’s limp body on the gravel. Cale gnashed at the metal net with his fangs, tore at the chains with his talons. They were impossible.
“Fire, Cale,” Ava said. “Breathe on it.”
She could hear shouting beneath them, as if someone was coming. As if everyone was coming.
Cale blasted the chains with all he could and they lit up a brilliant orange. But nothing. They wouldn’t budge. And Rane was hurting himself, the chains pressing grooves on his back that had already been worn into his hide.
Cale backed up, panting. They were running out of time. The no-ir had been ordered to apprehend the intruders and there was nothing they could do but obey, even with Pendulus trying to hold them off. The no-ir would capture them all. And if Ava still refused to honor her agreement, if she refused to help Sirce, he would end them.
“We have to leave him,” Ava said. “We’ll come back for Rane. We’ll come back.”
But Cale roared at her, his slivered eyes trying to tell her no. No. They couldn’t leave Rane. The pair would not survive another night apart.
“They’re coming,” she said. “They’ll do the same thing to us, Cale. They’ll separate us until we can’t take it anymore.”
But Rane had stopped struggling. He beat his wings and huffed at Ava, as if he meant to say, ‘Look at me, rider. Listen to me.’
Ava touched his smooth, cold hide. She knew it wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same as his rider’s touch. She put her forehead against his nose. “If I could do it, I would, Rane.” She closed her eyes and her heart threatened to break, her will flaring to life inside her. “If I could…”
Rane spread his wings, and that time, there were no chains holding him back. He flew forward, his wingspan so wide it took up the entire roof. He clutched Shiloh in his talons and snatched Cale up in his other paw. It only took a moment for Ava to scramble up his back and hang on to his scales. There was no time to adjust the saddle, and no Shiloh to tell him where to go. The void was in control, and it took the oxygen right out of their bodies. The darkness pushed and pressed, pulled and prodded. And Ava thought, just maybe, Rane could not navigate without his rider. That maybe they’d be lost to the void forever.
And then light.
Light that danced and halted. Red and orange and yellow beams of horrendous throbbing light and music so loud it pinned Ava to the floor. There were gasps and screams, and for a moment Ava wondered if they’d crash landed in hell.
But when she sat up, she saw the familiar brooding of basement walls. She smelled liquor and sweat and smoke. And she saw Onna’s pretty face, mouth pulled into a tight line. The girl hustled over in her stilettos, past the crowd of red dragon onlookers, and knelt beside Cale.
She opened wide brown eyes at Ava and shouted over the club music. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Ava scrambled to her knees, ignoring the pang of dizziness that threatened to knock her back down. “We need a doctor,” she shouted. Her lips were so dry they cracked. She could taste the blood as she licked them. What she’d done to free Rane had taken too much out of her. She needed a break. She needed a place to rest. She needed ownworld.
But there was something else wrong, something thick and haunting in the air. All the red dragons—with their makeup done and their clothes alluring and provocative, already drenched in sweat from a night of dancing and underground fights—only stared at her.
Ava could hear the whispers begin. No-ir. No-ir. They were terrified. Yet too curious to leave. The pair was unconscious, lying on the floor, together. Ava didn’t understand how they’d all gotten to the Cave, but
it didn’t matter. None of that mattered.
“Onna, we need a doctor,” she repetead. And where’s my dragon? Where’s Cale?
Onna was too busy staring at Shiloh. “Is that…is that a….”
“Yes. And they’re injured. Call Karma. Call someone.”
Shiloh was still as lifeless as when they’d taken him from his cell, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving as he breathed. Rane was his full size beside him, ta
king up much of the dance floor.
No, Ava thought, her stomach aching at the thought. No, they can’t die.
Ava looked around. Suddenly, she felt alone. And it made her hate ownworld, made her hate the very idea of a life without her dragon. Freedom be damned. Freedom be damned to hell. “Cale?” And the panic in her voice was so clear it cut.
He took her hand from behind, letting her know he was there. “Needed clothes,” he said through clenched teeth. He had sensed her panic, and he was there. God, he was always there.
Ava wanted to hold him, but urgency was pressing in around them. There was a buzz in the room that made sweat break out on Ava’s brown skin. “No one’s listening, Cale,” she shouted over the music. “What’s going on? What is that…that feeling?”
“I don’t know what Karma’s talking about,” Onna said, interrupting and waving the phone in the air. “She’s being all blue-dragon-y.”
“Give it,” Ava said, snatching it from her and ignoring the prickling on the back of her neck that told her to be careful. Karma’s voice always grounded her. She couldn’t wait to hear it.
“Ava, what’s happening? What is all that noise?”
“We’re in a red dragon club and a no-ir pair is dying. What do I do?”
A pause. “Did you just say…no-ir?” Even karma was afraid. And there was no time for fear.
“Karma, what do I do?”
“I’m coming. Where are you?”
“The Cave.”
“May I have coordinates?”
“I don’t know the coordinates, Karma!” She tried to think, but her brain was blocked up by…something. Something so real she could almost taste it. Fight it, Ava. Concentrate. “Cale, where are we?”
But Cale was far too distracted to answer.
Victor stepped out of his back room, his large forearms crossed, his shaved head gleaming from the flashing lights. The crowd parted for him as if he was their king.
“Finally. The Anders reject is back to finish what he should have never started.” He turned to an employee. “Wake my brother. Ahora.”
Cale put his hands up in an effort to appear diplomatic. The last thing he needed was a senseless fight. To his dread, he was nearly shaking. He needed to eat. He needed to sleep. He needed to get his people out.
“Victor, the last time we were here, we left on good terms.”
“Good terms? The last time you were here, you had the gall to challenge me to a fight in my own club.”
Gall? Since when did Victor use words like gall? “Look, I didn’t even mean to come here, but we have a situation on our hands. We don’t want any trouble. But we could really use some help.”
Victor’s eyes lit up, and he seemed almost manic. Even the scar above his eyebrow moved as he laughed. “You didn’t mean to come to my place? You just ‘poof’ showed up?” Even on his worse days, Victor had always put aside his own animosity for what he thought the herd needed. But not this Victor. Every word he spoke was charged with hatred.
Cale put careful hands up. “If you want to know the truth…we traveled through something called the void on the back of this dying no-ir. And we have much bigger problems than silly club feuds.”
Victor gave a crooked smile that made Cale sick to his stomach. “You think I’m afraid of some no-ir?” And he spit on the ground.
The crowd gasped. Stepped back to give a wider berth. Even Cale blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. Victor should be afraid. That’s how every dragon worked. The fear of the no-ir was natural, right. Which meant something about Victor was very, very wrong. There was a current running through the room that was greater than fear. Cale and Ava both felt it rumbling beneath their feat. Hate. Hate was everywhere.
Cale narrowed his eyes. “Victor, what’s going on here?”
Manuel, victor’s brother, who was a shade smaller and a few degrees meaner, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stepped out beside his brother. He ran a hand over his buzzed platinum blonde hair, then put his fists up. Didn’t matter who Manuel was fighting. He was always up for it. Just point him in a direction.
Cale needed to talk his way out of it. But his brain was too foggy to move quickly enough. The last time he’d been in the Cave, he’d been welcomed as the dragon who’d taken on the no-ir and survived. So why do they hate me? What changed?
Lightning. That’s what Victor’s fist felt like as it collided with Cale’s face. There had been no whistle, no countdown. It was a cheap move, but no one dared call him out on it. The fight had begun.
Cale staggered, blinded for a moment by the sucker punch. But there was another blow, this time to his abdomen. It knocked the wind out of him, so there was nothing for him to exhale when Victor’s fist met with his ribs a second time.
Hands and knees. One second was all Cale wanted—one second to catch himself—but he knew he didn’t have it. He went in low since he was already on the ground, drove his foot into Victor’s knee hoping it would cave. And god, how he wished Rory was there. How he wished he wasn’t fighting alone.
When Victor faltered, Cale moved upward, taking two rapid jabs to meet Victor’s chest. The bigger dragon winced, no doubt feeling his heart do the same. But the kick that came to Cale’s face wasn’t from Victor at all. Manuel didn’t wait until Cale stood back up. They both pummeled their stony fists into Cale without hesitation.
Ava couldn’t wait with Shiloh anymore. Not with them doubling up on her dragon. Not with him fighting all on his own.
“Get off him,” she screamed.
She had every intention of making that happen. They had every intention of ignoring her. But before she could make her way to Manuel, someone grabbed her arm and jerked her backward, hard.
She wrenched her arm away, but it did no good. There was more than one person pulling her back, keeping her from getting to Cale. And when she tried to yell that he had to change forms, just one more time, there was a hand over her mouth, one across her neck, one around her waist, one grasping her hair. They held her, even when she twisted and wrenched—and she knew what Rane must have felt, to have someone she loved so close, needing her. To know there was nothing she could to save him. To know he was alone. To know she wasn’t enough.
They were killing him. Ava knew enough about martial injuries to know that Victor and Manuel and whoever else had jumped into the fight were rupturing his organs, crushing his bones, and tearing his face to shreds. And the hate on their faces, the hate in their twisted eyes and their pummeling fists.
She bit, pulled, fought the hands that held her back. She willed things to change. A phoenix can do anything. Could free Rane’s chains. Could form clouds out of nothing. She could even bring herself back from the dead. But the hate was too strong. And in horror she watched the world being murdered before her very eyes. Until, without her permission and against her will, her world went dark.
Nine
Own
A familiar voice. Clammy hands—surprisingly gentle—touching her face. Ava couldn’t open her eyes at first. It was as though they’d been sewn shut. She knew she was fine. She was just fine. But her heart was on fire.
Her first thoughts ran to Karma. What if she’d come to help Shiloh? What would the red dragons have done to a blue entering their territory?
Then Shiloh. He could be dead. He and Rane could both have died right there on that beer-drenched floor.
And…oh god. Oh god…Cale.
That same familiar voice called her from her thoughts. “Ava, please. Please wake up.”
Her eyes finally obeyed her. It was dark, wherever they were, and there was noise in the background. She was lying on the floor in a tiny room, someone cradling her head. She made herself sit up. Didn’t matter how much it hurt. When she tried to speak, nothing came out. It was like her throat had been burned, then crushed. She pushed anyway.
“Where’s Cale?”
Onna had been crying, was still crying. She threw her arms around Ava’s neck and sobbed. “I am so glad
you’re okay, Ava. Oh my god.”
Ava shoved the girl off, hissing in pain as she made the movement. She didn’t need to glance at her wrist in the dark to know it was broken. And she didn’t need a doctor to tell her that her wrist was the least of her problems.
“Cale.” She meant to shout it, but it came out in a croak, barely audible.
“This is my fault,” Onna said, still crying, gasping for air in between sobs. “This is all my fault.”
No. Ava knew exactly whose fault it was. She looked past Onna and to the door. It seemed normal enough. No sky dungeon iron. If Onna can’t take me to Cale, maybe I can force my way through. She stood up, almost screaming when she put weight on her leg. Broken.
She didn’t care. She hobbled to the door, tugged at the handle with her good hand. It wasn’t locked.
But Onna pushed it closed from behind her. “You can’t go out there, Ava. Not yet.”
Ava tried the door again, but Onna wouldn’t let her by.
“Move,” Ava said, the word grating.
“Ava, I can’t let you go out there.”
“Move.”
She pulled and pulled at the door, but she didn’t have anything left. She fell a little, stumbled, Onna trying to catch her until Ava snatched her arms away.
She knew she was crying. Hot tears that burned her bruised eyes. “My Cale….” she managed. “He needs me. He needs me.” She was a liar. She needed him. She needed him.
Onna put each of her hands on Ava’s cheeks and held her gaze. The girl’s makeup was no more than black smudges, her hair for once knotted and her clothes torn. “He’s going to be okay, Ava. We’re fixing him up right now. You just need to wait a few hours until he’s in better condition. For your sake, Ava.”
“I don’t believe you,” Ava choked out. “Let me see him. If he’s okay, let me see him.”
Onna shook her head. “You can’t see him yet. Not like this. You’re not okay, Ava.”
Ava’s mind was unraveling, her thoughts on fire inside her. Calm down, she told herself. Calm down and make her understand. What would Cale say? What would he do? She put her hands over Onna’s and tried to take a deep breath. “Onna…he needs me.”
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