Malcolm swung an overhead drop, nearly banging Griffin’s staff out of his hands. Griffin jabbed, hitting Malcolm in the gut, bending him over, then struck him again on the back.
Malcolm staggered backward, staying inbounds, recovering fast enough to block Griffin’s next jab, then advanced, rowing the staff, thwacking Griffin’s, backing him up until he teetered on his heels on the edge of the line. Griffin landed a sharp uppercut to Malcolm’s jaw. He fell forward—out of bounds.
The crowd cheered. He could hear Jori from the balcony, calling, “Sir Griffin!” Griffin should acknowledge him. Pay homage to his prince, but he couldn’t. Not anymore. Griffin reached a hand down to Malcolm, helping him up.
The people chanted Griffin’s name into a chorus. Griffin took a quick bow, then walked straight to Cornwall, who stood off to the side of the ring, strapping on bulky leg guards. Between his heavy chain mail over the thick leather padding and his metal body armor, Cornwall would move slower than Oak on his fastest day.
Maggie waited on the balcony, and Griffin was in a hurry to see her, but after passing off his staff to an assistant, he walked back. He had to say something to the cocky whelp before his first fight.
“Do you wish to see sixteen, Cornwall?”
“I don’t want to hear from you, Griffin. I know what I’m doing.” Cornwall lowered his helmet’s face mask down.
“You’ll move too slow with all this on. Ask your brother.”
“This is the most advanced defensive equipment the kingdoms have ever seen.” Cornwall checked the sharpening on his sword. “The sun is out. The ground dry. I will move just fine. I don’t need my brother, or you, to tell me anything.”
Griffin threw up his hands in surrender, leaving, but then stopped. “Last piece of advice, and then I’m gone. If you lose your footing or get injured in any way, head for the lift as fast as you can. The draignoch’s chains won’t allow the beast to reach that far.”
Cornwall sheathed his sword. “I’ll be the butt of the king’s jokes.”
“At least you’ll be alive to hear them.” Griffin set a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you understand? Surviving is the ultimate win.”
Cornwall stared at his feet, nodding, giving Griffin hope that something he said broke through that heavy helmet.
As soon as Griffin came out on the balcony, Jori handed him a chalice. “Well done.” The prince raised his own glass, first to the people, and then to Griffin.
“Thank you.” Griffin searched for Maggie, letting his gaze linger longer than he should when he found her. Stunning in a yellow dress, she was being held hostage by Xavier at the other end of the balcony, beside King Umbert.
An arm fell over his shoulders. “Come,” Jori said, demanding Griffin’s attention. “You won’t want to miss a second of this.” He led Griffin to the other end of the balcony.
Esmera and Sybil got up to give a standing ovation to Cornwall as he exited the tunnel. His sword in one hand and a shield in the other, he dropped to one knee when he reached the center of the ring.
The throngs silenced.
King Umbert stood, leaning on the railing so hard it creaked under Griffin’s hands. “Well, second son, let’s see if you can redeem the brothers from the North.”
Egrid wrestled with his crutch, nearly falling over. Maggie hurried to his side to help.
“Where’s Malcolm?” Esmera asked.
“In the tunnel, I suspect,” Sybil answered.
A bell gonged. The drums began their slow beat, pacing with the rise of the gate. A sharp pounding inside began, quaking the stands. People mumbled with worry.
Maggie closed her eyes briefly. When they opened, she tried to run, likely out the door, but Xavier was holding on to her wrist. He yanked her, holding on to her but not for long. She kicked him and he let go, cursing her. She headed for the door, but the guards prevented her from leaving. She found Griffin. Her mouth parted, her chest rising and falling in fear.
“It’s Rendicryss.”
The gate had barely parked when she raced into the arena, roaring with unbridled fury. Taller and thicker than she appeared in the bestiary, her skin shone black as night, but as the sun hit her back, the light broke into a rainbow of colors. Her eyes too had changed color to fiery red. Her wings unfurled, and Griffin gasped, seeing they spanned a quarter of the ring, ridged bones aligned throughout.
There was no doubt in Griffin’s mind that what he saw was real. With those, she could fly.
Maggie looked at him, helpless. She was too far away to even attempt cutting those chains. Rendicryss canvassed the ring, swinging her head back and forth, pausing at the balcony, at Maggie. Maggie gripped the railing, her stare locked on her dragon.
Jori moved between them, his hand falling over hers. “Don’t worry, Maggie. I’m here. And I’m sure the draignoch will be fine.”
“Are you mad? Cornwall is untested!” Griffin yelled at Jori.
“This is for you, Griffin. For your benefit. You said you wanted to see it before your match,” Jori said.
“Stop this,” Griffin cried. “For the love of the crown, don’t do this.”
“Griffin,” Jori said in a placating tone, “Cornwall has been told a thousand times to step out of the competition. He refused. I cannot stop it. Look at his father.”
Griffin found Egrid leaning forward, a smile of anticipation on his lips. Did he actually believe his son could win against the creature that faced him?
Rendicryss let out a high-pitched scream that had all covering their ears.
The audience chanted, “Corn-wall. Corn-wall. Corn-wall.”
Cornwall scooped his spear, jogging across the ring from her, as far away as he could get.
Rendicryss lowered her snout, bared her teeth, all chiseled fangs, and sprinted at Cornwall, her chains giving plenty of lead.
“What is that? That’s not a draignoch. Is it?” Esmera asked for all to hear. “Jori! Stop the fight! Stop it now!”
“Sit down, Esmera. No one needs to hear your whining, particularly not me,” Laird Egrid snapped.
Cornwall raised his shield. The dragon swiped, raking a claw, the toes catching the edge, flicking it out of his hands. It flew into the lowest row, hitting a man in the head with such force he was knocked into the row behind him. Blood ran down his face.
Cornwall threw his spear—his best weapon. The tip hit its mark, but didn’t penetrate Rendicryss’s hide. It bounced harmlessly to the ground.
The crowd gasped.
“Did you see that?” Sybil said, sounding panicked.
“Cornwall! The lift! Run!” Esmera cried. But her brother didn’t listen.
Zigzagging to avoid Rendicryss’s snapping jaws, Cornwall pulled his sword. He thrust at her side, but Rendicryss anticipated every move he made. The dragon whipped her wings, lifting off the ground the few feet the chains allowed, twisting out of the blade’s range.
The crowd reacted, ducking and shouting.
Cornwall jabbed, cutting across the dragon’s hip. A move that would’ve been enough on a draignoch, but it was only a nuisance to Rendicryss. The dragon jumped, landing on Cornwall’s legs. His bones snapped like twigs. He howled in terror and pain.
“Stop this! Stop this now!” Sybil yelled. “Cornwall!” Her cry echoed every part of the arena.
“Please . . . no,” Esmera whimpered softly, dropping her face into her hands, refusing to look at all.
Egrid sat stiff as a board, barely breathing.
“Cornwall!” Malcolm yelled, his voice coming out of the tunnel. The lift still at the bottom, he grabbed hold of the pulley rope, intending to slide down, but guards grabbed him. It took three to hold him back.
Unable to move his legs, Cornwall did the only thing he could. He slashed his sword wildly, trying to keep Rendicryss’s lowering fangs from taking his head off. The blade nicked the dragon’s snout. She recoiled, blood streaming over ridges, falling like boiling rain around Cornwall. Every drop that hit Cornwall melted
through his armor, through his chain mail, until it found skin. Cornwall screamed. He thrust his blade at the same time Rendicryss’s hind leg whipped forward. The sword stabbed, but not nearly hard enough. Her claws dug into Cornwall’s chest—into his heart—killing him instantly.
“No . . .” Maggie clutched her chest.
Griffin wasn’t sure if her pain was for Rendicryss or Cornwall. He suspected, like his, it was for both.
“Cornwall!” Sybil wailed.
Griffin pulled her to him. “Don’t look. Keep your head down.”
Sybil shoved him away. She ran through the door. The guards were so transfixed on the dragon, she pushed them aside and left. Esmera went with her.
Maggie slid over, her hands cupping the railing, finding Griffin’s.
“Look at what they’ve done to her . . .”
“I’m so sorry, Maggie.”
The people quieted. Stunned into horrified, mouth-covering silence. Not even a whisper floated on the breeze.
Whimpering, Egrid leaned forward, using the railing to pull himself to standing. King Umbert got out of his chair, taking his chalice with him, and peered down at Cornwall’s lifeless body still stuck on Rendicryss’s claws.
Xavier peeked over the edge. “Poor boy. Least it was quick. All we can ask for. A quick death.”
Griffin wanted to throw that idiot over the railing.
Rendicryss’s head shifted until she found the king. Her red eyes narrowed. Nostrils flaring, she reeled back. Cornwall’s body flew through the air, heading straight for the balcony.
Xavier somehow yanked the king out of the way. But Egrid wasn’t so lucky. Cornwall’s body hit the old laird so hard he barreled through a table, plowing into the wall behind it.
Shocked silence followed. For several long seconds no one moved.
Malcolm, Sybil, and Esmera burst through the door, onto the balcony. The Northman gently lifted Cornwall off Egrid. “Fath . . .” He never finished. He saw what Griffin did. The old man was dead. His eyes fixed beyond, to whatever came next.
The people looked on, their faces a mixture of horror, compassion, and disgust.
Griffin helped lift Egrid into Malcolm’s arms, unable to take his eyes off the insanity he saw in the king. With a sharp turn, Malcolm carried away his father’s body, while Umbert leaned on the railing, a low wicked laugh escaping for only the balconies’ ears. He looked back at Sybil cradling Cornwell’s head in her lap, sweeping his hair out of the blood on his face. His nostrils flaring, he stamped his foot, jerking his head, indicating for the few remaining guards to get on with removing the body. They made for a messy pulpit.
But the guards hesitated. Sybil was crying, mumbling, “Time to go home. It’s time to go home.”
Esmera knelt beside Sybil, pulling her off Cornwall so the guard could more easily get to him.
As he lifted Cornwall’s body, Esmera took Sybil’s hands off, hugging her sister from behind. They got up together, leaving with their brother’s body.
Rendicryss lunged forward for King Umbert, screaming an ungodly sound from deep in her throat. But the chains held fast. Umbert raised his fist at Rendicryss, taunting her, then turned to address his people. “I foresaw this! This monster is what comes next from the forest. Do you see? An omen stands before you! The wall, my soldiers, and my magic will protect you! Your king will protect you!”
A few clapped for their king, but most stared at Rendicryss, mouths hanging open, clutching their heaving chests or holding their children against them.
The dragon’s throat rumbled a growl. She lunged once more but the Phantombronze chains would not yield an inch. Umbert laughed, shaking his head at her as if to say, You will never win. By the look in her eye, Rendicryss took that as a challenge. The gauntlet thrown. And Griffin would never bet against that dragon.
She chuffed.
“A mocking lizard for sure,” King Umbert yelled, stepping away from the spectators’ view.
King Umbert yanked Jori beside him. He nodded for Xavier to stand by his other side. Jori gestured for Griffin, but Griffin refused. He remained with Maggie.
Rendicryss reached back, biting down on Cornwall’s blade still stuck in her hindquarters. Without flinching, she ripped it out, hurling it at her enemy. The sword should’ve hit the king, but a guard jumped in front of him, blocking it with his shield, sending it spiraling downward on the Bottom’s rows.
Rendicryss roared.
“This is madness!” a woman wailed. “Let us out of this place!”
“Silence her. Throw her to the beast,” King Umbert ordered.
Griffin couldn’t believe his ears.
The woman sprinted up the aisle toward the exit, only to be captured by the king’s soldiers. Three from the Bottom’s rows came to her aid, trying to fight them off, only to be seized by other guards, dragged to the edge, and thrown over with her.
It was only then Griffin realized that one of the brawlers was Thoma.
“This can’t be happening. . . . Get out of my way!” Griffin ordered the guards at the door, but the king shook his head, and they refused to let him leave.
“Do you wish to save them, Sir Griffin?” King Umbert bellowed. He held his hand over the rail. “Go on, then. I grant you permission to jump.”
“What?” Griffin would die from the fall.
“If those Bottom feeders mean more to you than your king, go ahead. Jump to save them, and I’ll let the draignoch feed on you as well.”
Thoma helped the woman to stand, yelling, “Run!”
The four sprinted toward the lift, but the dragon beat them easily. Rendicryss swung her head, crashing into their only way out. The lift flew into the air a few feet off the ground. The dragon’s hind leg caught it midair, slamming down, crushing it. She roared then, thrashing her head from side to side.
A tear fell down Maggie’s cheek. “She’s in pain, Griffin. The chains are burning her.”
“Maggie . . . please . . .” He said her name in prayer.
She looked down at the four. Thoma stood with his back to the other three, trying to protect them. As she had so many times the night before, Maggie closed her eyes, stretching her hand ever to the sky. From a point Griffin couldn’t see, the moon answered her call. A light beam as long as a sword was all that was visible.
“By the gods!” someone called.
“Look!” another yelled.
And they all did.
“Is she doing that?” King Umbert cried.
“No, sire.” Xavier remembered his staff beside him and held it aloft.
His stare fixed on Maggie, the king pushed Xavier out of his way and started for her, but made it only three steps before slipping in a pool of Cornwall’s blood.
“Father!” Jori gasped, looking for help. “Get my father out of here!” he yelled at the guards left. Three guards rolled the king to standing and rushed him off the balcony. The prince headed for Maggie. Griffin put his back to her, arms stretched, refusing to let the prince near her.
“Griffin, you’re making a mist—”
Griffin kicked him. He fell into the guards behind him. The prince recovered, returning, turning red with fury.
“Take him,” Jori ordered.
The guards advanced. Griffin heard the snap of Maggie’s power coming closer. He ducked.
She whipped her arm back, striking the guards. Their bodies went rigid, as if struck by lightning. They crashed to the floor, and never got up. Maggie threw her arm out, the beam expanding. She drew more power than Griffin had ever seen her do before. Like Phantombronze in daylight and tilted on edge, the moonlight was rendered invisible, but Griffin could feel the cold power emanating off her. It was most definitely still there.
Frothing at the mouth, her fiery red eyes sparking with sun, the dragon tossed her head back and forth, working into a frenzy.
“Rendicryss!” Maggie swung overhand. A thunderous snap shattered the crowd’s awed and terrified screams. Moonlight struck the ground beside the dr
agon. If she was trying to hit the chains, she missed, badly.
The dragon stopped roaring. Jori, Xavier, every single person in the arena stopped too. Rendicryss craned her neck to look at Maggie.
Maggie shook her head. She held out her hand, her palm up. Rendicryss lowered her head so it was on the ground. Her eyes closed. When they opened again, they were no longer red, but blue, like Maggie’s.
“Raise the keep’s gate!” Griffin called. “Get them out of there!”
The throngs joined in, transforming Griffin’s orders into a riotous demand. Before the prince could say yea or nay, the marshal’s voice yelled, “Raise it! Raise it now!”
Pulleys creaked. The heavy metal rolled up.
Thoma’s wide-eyed gaze flipped from the opening to Maggie.
“What are you waiting for?” she shouted at him.
The woman pushed the others, crying, “Hurry!”
They sprinted across the ring, skating around Rendicryss and through the gate. All the while, the dragon stood still, as if waiting for Maggie’s next command.
Rendicryss lowered her wings, tucking them to her back. She opened wide, squeaking, then her three sharp claws stabbed the dirt. Then again, scraping. She stepped closer to the keep, so all could see. A symbol. She’d drawn it in the dirt. Xavier’s gasp was so loud, Griffin heard it from the other side of the balcony.
The symbol. It was Maggie’s.
Seventeen
Maggie
Soldiers flooded the balcony, Raleigh leading the charge. I glanced at Griffin. His jaw clenched. He spun to attack at the same time I stretched, reaching for a blessing from the moon. Two men grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back.
Four more wrestled Griffin to the ground as they yanked me away from the railing.
Rendicryss screamed, running across the ring until her chains would allow no more. She reared, thrashing her head from side to side, flailing her front legs, claws extended.
Soldiers manning the exits refused to let panicked attendees leave. The fleeing masses stacked up, climbing over each other, the small and unfortunate falling underneath, trampled.
“Get her out of here!” Jori ordered.
The Color of Dragons Page 26
