Page 37 of Wild Bond (Wild Bond #1)

M y conversation with Rake this morning had helped strengthen my resolve some, but not much. I was still insanely nervous and felt like I might be ill when it was finally my turn to be called down into the chamber for the Second Trial.

I was wearing a new pair of the brown riding leathers, since the ones I had been wearing in the First Trial were unsalvageable. Skye sat perched on my shoulder. A female dragon rider from Zehvi escorted us from the room where all the prospects from the three kingdoms waited—those who had yet to go anyway—and down a flight of stone stairs that felt like they just kept going and going, before finally leveling off in a large stone chamber.

Skye’s steady presence and calm reassurance in the bond was the only thing that kept me from fleeing back up the stairs. The room that looked remarkably similar to the cave at The Great Temple. I could feel the familiar hum of panic in my blood, threatening to overwhelm me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and my palms began to sweat.

Once again, the chamber was only lit by flaming sconces set in the walls overhead; not nearly enough light to chase away the darkness from the corners or the memories in my mind. The walls and floors were engraved with strange symbols that didn’t resemble any language or lettering I had ever seen. Set in the far wall, a massive pair of ornate double doors stood open, revealing a large obsidian stone chamber.

Rake had warned me what to expect, walking me through what he was able to tell me of the trial—the discussion I had missed when he carried me from the chamber that day. It helped me a little now, and I was able to momentarily stave off the dread at the thought of being closed into that dark chamber.

An older woman with kind, sad eyes, who wore the long dark green robe of a Baldorian priestess, a Hollow One, approached us. She nodded to my escort, and the Zehvitian rider bowed in a sign of respect before taking her leave and heading back up the stone stairs without a word.

The priestess regarded me, and then Skye, before introducing herself. “My name is Alma,” she said. “I am one of the caretakers here at Three Points, and one of those assigned to help trainees through the final trial.”

I nodded, taking a steadying breath. I didn’t feel capable of speech at the moment, all my energy was focused on not sinking into that remote place I retreated to in my mind once before. Realms. It felt like these trials were specifically designed to torment me, ferreting out several of my deepest fears. And this one was just beginning.

For some reason, I latched onto the fact that this woman said she was a caretaker. I couldn’t help thinking it must be a rather lonely existence living up here. Though Rake had told me that Three Points was also a sanctuary dragon riders could visit year-round, with a temple, library, and large collection of ancient dragon rider relics—all things I had yet to get to see. So maybe it wouldn’t be quite so lonely. I also knew that, thanks to the war, there were a lot more Hollow Ones at present than there usually were. Even still, I saw the pain in Alma’s eyes and thought of the queen when she had spoken of her lost dragon, and decided that maybe this woman didn’t mind the solitude so much.

“Now, once you and your dragon enter the obsidian chamber, the doors will be shut, and you will be locked inside,” she explained, without any preamble. “Smoke from the burning of magical herbs will be released into the chamber to help put your minds into a relaxed state. Then the trial will begin. You will have a quarter hour to free yourself from the illusion, though to you it will feel like much longer. If you are successful, you will wake on your own, without aid from us, and the door on the far side of the chamber will open, meaning you have passed.”

I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand. “I cannot tell you more than that. The Second Trial is different for each bonded pair, and there is no telling what you will see or experience inside.”

I gulped down some of my trepidation and even felt a hint of wariness from Skye.

“Remember, this trial is meant to test the strength of your bond,” Alma reiterated. “Rely on each other, otherwise, you cannot hope to master it.”

A priest clad in the Halmarish blue robes stood by the open chamber doors, waiting to close them once Skye and I entered.

“Good luck,” Alma said, bowing slightly.

As we stepped through the doors and into the chamber, I took another deep breath and focused on the calm coming from Skye. The chamber was massive, big enough for even the largest dragon to fit inside. Facets of the glossy black stone covered the entire surface of the walls, floor, and ceiling, though the floor itself was smooth. Another pair of doors were visible on the far side. There was a slight smoky quality to the air, and a fragrant scent I wasn't familiar with.

Skye leapt from my shoulder and shifted to her natural form at my side. I had been so focused on examining the chamber, that I turned just in time to see the stone doors rumble shut behind us.

Once again, I found myself in darkness that was utterly complete. Skye’s muzzle bumped against my shoulder, and I stroked her nose absently as we both waited for something to happen. I talked myself off a metaphorical cliff in my mind, trying not to let myself sink into that dark place again. The unfamiliar scent increased in strength, and before long, I began to feel slightly lightheaded. At first, I worried that the panic was overtaking me, but I could tell through the bond that Skye was experiencing it too.

I sank to the floor, my strength leaving me, and Skye did the same behind me. Her body curled around mine, and I leaned back against her.

Before long, my entire body relaxed, and my mind began to drift . . .

My eyes snapped open. I shook my head to try and clear my foggy vision. My head throbbed as I stood there in confusion. Where was I? Hadn’t I been sitting?

All around me were high stone walls that formed several pathways leading off in different directions. Feeling compelled, I followed one, the thick pounding in my head still present, until I came to a dead end. Turning around, I returned to where I had started. Then it occurred to me where I was.

A maze.

How had I gotten into a maze?

That was also when I became aware of the fact that Skye wasn’t beside me and was calling out to me in the bond. The desire to go to her—to find her—was strong, and I heeded it without thought. I started off in the opposite direction, taking a different path than I had before. I didn’t run into any dead ends this time, taking turns at random, all the while trying to head in the general direction of where I sensed Skye.

The odd disorienting feeling wouldn’t clear completely from my mind, and every once in a while, the walls and even the floor beneath my feet felt like it shimmered and moved or warped slightly like how I imagined a mirage in the desert might look.

The fog wasn’t just in my mind, though. It was also in the air around me, obscuring the space above me and the tops of the stone walls overhead. I got lost and had to double back several times all the while feeling this intense need to get to Skye. Pulled by that invisible string to my dragon. In some part of my mind, I knew that I wasn’t really here; that in actuality, Skye was lying right next to me in the chamber, but I couldn't pull myself out of it. Whatever magical herbs they used were strong.

I wandered for what felt like close to an hour or maybe it was only a few minutes—my head was still throbbing, and time felt weird here—before I finally stumbled around a corner and halted abruptly at the sight of a figure standing at the end of the passageway.

The fog around me cleared a little, and I was able to take in the figure as I cautiously approached.

The man was tall, with a lean frame and subdued but expensive looking clothing. His hair was dark, his facial hair cut into a pointed goatee, though his face itself was rather unremarkable. It was his eyes though, bright, calculating and assessing that made me pause and a chill go down my spine. There was something about him that instantly put me on edge. All my senses felt newly heightened. I wasn’t scared, necessarily, just wary. Watchful.

I halted again with about a dozen feet of space still between us.

“Welcome, Corrine Darrow,” he greeted, with a half-smile that was really more of smirk, as if he found something supremely amusing. “This is a rather unique opportunity for me. Usually, it’s my brother that most of you dragon riders get to help you. But you,” those cunning eyes looked me up and down, “get me.” He grinned. “How fascinating.”

Confusion reigned. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

His grin widened even further before he waved my question away and began rolling a gold coin, that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, between his fingers. “That’s not important. What is important is what I’ve been sent here to tell you. Though, admittedly, that isn’t much.”

I just stared at him, trying hard to mask my growing annoyance as I folded my arms. “You aren’t making any sense. If you’ve been sent here to help me, you aren’t doing a very good job.”

He chuckled, the sound gravelly and rough as though it didn’t happen often. “Not one to mince words, I see,” he commented. “Well then, I shall endeavor to be brief.” That shrewd gaze locked with mine. “As you travel the maze, don’t make the mistake of thinking anything is real. Think. Control your emotions, and use the bond. Remember, it is the rider who is on trial, not the dragon. Skye is here to guide you through this, and it is only through that bond that you can ever hope to master yourself and come out the other side.”

I frowned, about to ask him to clarify what he meant when he grinned again and offered a simple 'good luck' before he disappeared.

I blinked, then glanced around, but he was simply gone as if he had never been there in the first place.

“Thanks a lot,” I muttered. I could have sworn I heard that raspy chuckle again, and then nothing.

I stood there for a moment longer amidst the stone walls and the fog before continuing on. I went back over what he had said in my mind. It always seemed to come back to the bond. I checked in on Skye again, but even though I could feel her there, she still felt like she was some distance away.

I was about to call to her when a shrill scream split the eerie quiet.

“Stop!” the voice cried, and it sounded like a young girl. Fear for the girl shot through me, and before I even consciously thought about it, I was sprinting in that direction.

There was an oddly familiar thumping sound, and another cry rang out, closer this time, more pained. I ran faster. My heart was pounding in my ears as I rounded a corner and came upon the scene.

A girl no more than ten was crumpled on the stone path ahead. She was dressed in rags, and her pale blonde hair was a mess that covered her face as she sobbed, “P-Please stop. You’re hurting me.”

A man stood over her holding a long thin cane. I could just make out the red welts forming on her hands and across her back where her shirt had ripped open.

“Get away from h—,” I yelled, but the words died on my lips and I stumbled to a halt when I saw who the man was.

“Safan?” I breathed. Disbelief, fear, and confusion all warred for dominance in my tone as I took in his familiar face. The look of pure rage. “But you-you’re dead. This-this isn’t . . . it can’t be . . .” My voice trailed off as I looked down at the little girl at his feet. She peered up at me through her hair—her white-blonde hair—and I reeled in shock at the tear-stained face that stared back at me. Big green eyes blinking wide. My eyes.

The little girl was me.

My breath caught, and my mind swirled as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

The moment I recognized her, the girl— me —disappeared, and I was left alone with Safan and his cane and that look of rage. A look which he now turned on me.

“You,” he snarled, pointing the cane at me. “This will teach you for disobeying my orders again. I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay my kindness?” He stepped towards me, and I stumbled back. It was an instinctual response, a decade of childhood memories and fears flooding back.

My back came up against the stone wall, and I raised my hands. “Wait, Master I—” I started.

He was on me in moments, moving with surprising speed as he raised the cane.

I sank to the floor in response, curling into a ball as I had so many times, trying to present a smaller target as the blows rained down on me. The familiar, all-consuming pain lanced through me with each strike. I tried to remember that this wasn’t real. It was a test. Safan was dead. Someone had killed him. But no . . . no that wasn’t right. There was nothing I could do. He was so much bigger than me. So powerful. It was best to just wait until his anger cooled and he stopped. No one was going to stop him. No one was going to save me. I was alone. I was—

All at once a strong, warm presence flowed through me. A presence, I realized, that had always been there. Skye. Skye, reminding me that I was strong, that I wasn’t that scared ten-year-old girl anymore. I hadn’t been for a long time. I had been homeless, become a thief to survive, endured two years in prison for a crime I hadn’t really committed, and now I was a dragon rider.

Suddenly that same anger I had felt when I confronted Safan in his office overcame me. I stood in one fluid motion and caught the cane as he brought it down again.

Staring directly at him, I murmured in cold fury, “Enough.”

Instead of taunting me like I expected—like the real Safan would have—he vanished. The cane vanished as well, and I found myself gripping empty air. The pain from the welts disappeared and I was left standing alone again.

My body still shook as I lowered my arm and took several deep breaths, trying and failing to settle my racing pulse and control my emotions as the mysterious man had advised. I knew that wasn’t all, though. That there had to be more, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I sent a thank you down the bond to Skye, and she hummed in satisfaction. I could tell that she had no doubt we could do this, and I wished I had her confidence.

Knowing there was nothing for it but to continue forward, I did just that. This time I decided to take the maze of pathways at a jog, heading in the general direction of the innocuous pull.

But as I ran, from one moment to the next, in that dreamlike fashion that made no sense, I found myself suddenly staring at my mother.

The maze around me had opened to form a rectangular passage from which several paths branched off. My mother was lying on the depressingly small mat we had shared in our little hovel all those years ago. She wore the same nightdress I remembered so well, and her golden hair was matted and plastered to her wan but still beautiful face with sweat. She began to cough, a deep, wet, hacking sound that had my blood freezing in my veins. I knew that cough. Knew what it meant.

“Mama?” I sobbed, rushing over and collapsing by her side. I immediately clutched her too-thin hand in mine. Everything else dropped away, my worry about the trial, Skye, the incident with Safan, everything. All of it swallowed up in the fact that my mother was here.

My gaze greedily moved over her face, memorizing and relearning every forgotten and half-remembered detail.

“Corrine darling, is that you?” my mother asked. Her eyes were half delirious from the pain as she raised a frail hand and cupped my cheek.

“Yes, mama it’s me,” I replied, holding her hand to my cheek.

Her face softened in a warm smile. “Look how you’ve grown . . . my beautiful girl.”

I opened my mouth to respond, hot tears racing down my cheeks, but then her face contorted into a grimace of pain, and she began to cough again. Her entire body shaking with it.

The scene reminded me so much of the night she died. I again felt that same desperation to help her, while at the same time knowing very well there was nothing I could do.

She coughed up blood into her hands, and I urged her to lie back. Time was slipping away too quickly. My movements were sluggish, and I couldn’t help her . . . there was so much blood, and I couldn't help her . . . I didn’t know how. There was nothing I could do as her glossy eyes stared upward, her wheezing breaths becoming more and more shallow and labored.

“Mama?” I cried.

Then her eyes went vacant, and her breath left her in a gentle sigh as her whole body relaxed.

“No, please!” I shrieked, gripping her harder. I couldn’t help shaking her. “Please don’t leave me. Mama!” My entire body was wracked with sobs as it collapsed onto hers. All the emotions I had felt when I was young returned with full force. I wasn’t sure how long I cried. Until again I became aware of that tug from the other end of the bond and Skye’s gentle presence in my mind. It washed over me in a soothing balm, and I was reminded again that all of this was not real. At least, not any longer.

What is the point of all this, Skye? I whispered to my dragon. What was I supposed to be learning from all this? How was making me suffer through some of my worst memories a test?

But Skye had no answers, and as I stood from the bed, staring down at my mother’s face one last time and closed her sightless eyes, I knew I wouldn’t get one. I had no idea why this time the memory didn’t disappear into smoke, but all the same I forced myself to turn and leave my mother behind.