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WE ARE UNITED, WE ARE FLIGHT, WE ARE WE

I thought my heart might burst waiting…

Tearloch stood with his hands on the wall before him and stared up at me. I fought the urge to bury my face and weep. This might be all we would have together.

Griffon’s parting words to Lennon resounded in my head. We didn’t need eternity to find perfection. But at least they’d had some time. Months, years. Tearloch and I had only a few days, and after learning of our bond, we’d had mere minutes together.

To whom could I take my complaint?

Certainly not to Ciro.

We waited along with the monsters to see if Dower would recover. But despite Bain trying to wake him, the younger brother never moved. It didn’t make sense. Did Hestia’s laws of nature not apply within The Soundless?

It must have cost Bain his sanity to have to remove Huxor’s head, and now…Dower’s dwindling hope was costing him his heart.

Thankfully, the power of the wicked sorcerer had ascended through the center of the arena, out the crosshatched dome and into the sky without anyone catching it. Of course, plenty of those monsters reached out, but they were left cursing their luck.

They had no idea how lucky they were.

The tall, gaunt announcer stepped into our box, offered Ciro a quick nod, then handed over his wide-mouthed horn before retreating. Ciro stepped forward, then turned to give me a fresh, sly wink before addressing the crowd. I barely listened as I debated whether to run at him and propel us both over the edge. But alas, the drop wasn’t far enough to do real damage. Still, it might postpone the rest of the events…

“Lennon!” he called. “Please join your dragon in the center of the arena!”

Lennon? Not Tearloch? Didn’t he intend to keep her in his unholy collection of DeNoy?

Lennon patted Kivi’s cheek then started forward. Naturally, Griffon tried to join her but was blocked by a wall of spears and bodies. She sought him for one last poignant look, then lifted her chin and continued on.

Meanwhile, Dower’s body was removed and a grieving, unseeing Bain was ushered back to his seat.

“Fellow DeNoy,” Ciro called. “Lennon has declined my offer and will not be joining our little community. Instead, she prefers to be treated as her criminal friends. And I have decided to allow it. However, there is no one worthy of fighting a DeNoy but another DeNoy. And since I will not risk the life of another one of you, her only option is to fight…to the death…against her own dragon!”

The masses gasped in shock. Apparently, such a duel wasn’t done. And from what little I’d read, I assumed it would be no easier to kill one’s dragon than to kill oneself.

Lennon laughed and shook her head. “Not gonna happen, old man!”

Ciro was taken aback. He certainly didn’t appreciate being called an old man. But his smirk quickly returned. “Then you have doomed you both.” With his arm, he summoned someone from the right end of the arena. Soon, six guards came around the corner pulling a long wagon that contained some tall contraption. When the wagon turned to the side, sunlight glinted along the edge of a monstrous, angled blade. It hung precariously at the top of a frame fifteen feet tall. If it fell, it could sever whatever was laid in the gap--even something as large as a dragon’s head.

“No, Marka .” The dragon enunciated clearly. Marka, in the old tongue, meant rider . “I will not allow it. You will face me and defeat me.” After a moment of stunned silence, the onlookers squealed with delight. But that delight turned to concern, and they began calling for mercy—for Kivi. Obviously, they thought it wrong to kill a speaking dragon. And what crime had she committed?

Ciro was unprepared for their response and stood speechless for an awkward amount of time. Finally, he raised his arms and demanded their silence.

“Good people of The Soundless, the price for justice must be paid. Her crime was entering the skies of Hestia and bringing the prophecy down on our heads. But we now declare…Kivi’s will be the last blood of a blue dragon to spill in this arena. Unless she kills her marka …”

Again, they complained, pointed out her ability to speak, which brought him to the end of his patience.

“Enough! Lennon and Kivi, do you fight, or will you choose death for you both?”

Kivi’s head swung, catching Lennon off guard and knocking her off her feet. The beast then charged for the wagon and paused beside it. She looked once more at her marka and spoke. “Táimid aontaithe. Táimid ag eitilt. Táimid táimid.” We are united. We are flight. We are we. She plunged her head through the gap and struck the frame with her shoulders, jarring the blade loose. By the time the diabolic slice ricocheted around the arena, it was over.

Kivi!

The massive head rolled once and stopped, right side up, its eyes closed.

I couldn’t breathe! My heart had stopped completely! I couldn’t move.

Kivi! Oh, Kivi!

Still on the ground, Lennon put her hands to her head and screamed. Griffon trampled the guards keeping him from her and sprinted to her side. He pulled her up against his still-bloody chest and rocked her while she wailed. Over the top of her head, he glared at Ciro, silently promising the fiend would pay dearly.

Ciro tossed the horn toward the waiting announcer and stomped back to his seat. Every sycophant around us tried to slink backward to avoid catching his eye. He signaled for another drink, then slouched back in his chair.

“I have lost control,” he said. “Not at all what I had planned. But they can’t blame me if she threw herself under the blade.” He stared into the distance for a minute, then looked around as if he’d forgotten where he was. When his gaze fell on me, his expression darkened, and I knew I was in trouble. “Time for the princess to take her turn.”

He gestured to someone behind me, and before I could stand, a guard grabbed me under the arms. Another guard seized my legs, and I was unceremoniously hauled out of the box. Thankfully, when we reached the stairs, they put me on my feet and allowed me to descend unaided to the arena floor.

I should have had a plan by then, but I didn’t. And I didn’t think Ciro had one either because, when I reached the center of the arena floor, it looked like he was still in his chair, frowning and talking to himself.

The mob seemed intrigued by my gown and my crown. No one had explained who I was. And I wondered if I might win their pity, like Kivi had done. But a talking dragon was a trick I couldn’t beat.

When they slowly but surely started chanting the names of dragons, I knew my time was up. If I didn’t think of something fast, that maniac was going to pit me against Nogel. Or worse, Tearloch!

It was just the kind of poetic torture that Ciro reveled in.

“Good people of The Soundless!” I shouted as loud as I could. “Surely a princess should be allowed to call down the dragon of her choice!”

Ciro jumped up and came forward. The crowd cheered my suggestion. The man looked around the stands and realized the mood had improved. Then he looked at me for a long time, probably hoping I would beg for mercy.

“Asper!” Tearloch was outraged. “Stop talking!”

I turned to face him, smiled, and tried to say goodbye. I kissed my fingers then pressed them to my heart. He might be wounded by my actions, but at least he would live. I was confident that whatever he was faced with, he would win.

“Very well.” Ciro had his horn back. “Choose the name of thy doom, Princess Asper.” And with a sweep of his arm, he indicated my brightly colored choices perched along the rim. The rim made of heartstone— where the dragons drew power!

I spun so fast a muscle in my neck burned like fire. I bit back my grimace and gave Tearloch a big wink. The last thing I wanted was for him to vault over that wall again and get in the way. I needed him to live. And I intended to live too.

I put my hands on my hips as if considering my choices. The bloodthirsty monsters quieted, waiting, wagering. When the anticipation was about to prove too much for them, I looked Ciro in the eye and shouted, “Skullcrusher!”

The mob approved of their obvious favorite and called the dragon’s name. Ciro kept his smile, but I could see even from a distance that he was suspicious. When the chanting peaked, he gave a signal with his hand. The black lifted off his perch and slowly swept around the arena, circle after circle tightening until there was no more room to fly.

He lit on the arena floor and moved toward me, drawing out the drama enough to prove his master was controlling his every move. When he halted, I started closing the distance. He cocked his head and watched me come, amused.

“Can you hear me, Ciro?” I asked quietly.

From high above, I heard the man laugh. “Yes! I can hear you!”

I kept walking. “You know where you went wrong?”

He didn’t offer a response, but I could tell he was listening when Skullcrusher moved his head forward to see me better. I imagined Ciro watching my every move through those giant blue and black eyes. And I wondered if he could feel it when I reached up and stroked the bumpy snout.

“Where you went wrong,” I repeated, “was the second you decided to toy with my family.” I took a step closer and wrapped one arm around the dragon’s leg—that leg that had stomped on Zelan’s remains. I held tight and stretched out to lay my hand over its heart. Then, with all my might, I willed every ounce of Hestia’s power out of the beast and into me. Even if it killed me to receive it all, I hoped it would kill the beast to lose it.

If it worked, I might not be able to torture the man or even put a blade in him, but at least he would feel the same anguish Lennon was feeling. That was, if he had any tender thoughts for his own dragon, like I’d been led to believe.

Skullcrusher tried to stomp, but it did no good. He could barely lift his leg, let alone shake me off. The murmuring crowd must have thought me mad. I was certain Tearloch did. But still, I held. And when the dragon stopped trying to push me away, I felt a punch of energy come through my arms. After that, it flowed freely.

I adjusted my position when the beast settled on its haunches. A moment later, it lowered the rest of its body to the ground. I’d drawn all the power of Hestia from it, but I needed more. I needed it all. So, I commenced again.

From a distance, I heard Ciro shouting, heard the creak of leather as guards hurried toward me. But there was a wind in my head that pushed those sounds away—a spinning tornado of power looking for a place to settle.

All I could do was swallow it.

My ears popped and I heard the protests of the mob clearly once more. They didn’t appreciate losing their favorite killer. And neither did Ciro. But his howling was interrupted when someone used something very hard to hit my head.