Core

by Teshelle Combs

  He watched Ava watch him, following every twitch of her muscles, every dilation of her pupils. Ava knew that look. She recognized the overwhelming intelligence in the pools of his eyes. A blue dragon.

  “My appearance does not alarm you. In all my years, you are only the second person who has not cowered or wrinkled their nose in disgust at first sight of me.” He tilted his head as he spoke. Too smart. His accent was identical to Karma’s, a tint of English and something else. “No,” he continued, “you feel sorry for me.”

  “What did you do to Juliette?”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not stupid. I know you that you know who I’m talking about. What did you do to her? She didn’t turn me in to you willingly. I know that much.”

  The blue dragon stood so still that he looked out of place in the forest, the leaves of trees dancing behind him in the breeze. Even the nightfolk rocked themselves in the shadows, and the werefolk shuffled their feet in anticipation. But he was carved of stone.

  “I have something she wants.”

  “Then give it to her. You have me now.”

  The blue dragon stepped up to Ava. He knelt in front of her, and Ava saw pain flash in his dark blue eyes, only for a moment. He reached out his hands, and Ava almost gasped. Up close, they looked like highways. The dark scars were ripped deep, deep into his flesh. She could see where each of the stitches had been.

  “What…what happened to you?”

  The dragon, who had been about to touch Ava’s face, stopped. He blinked at her, looking into her eyes. “Again, you are the second person who has ever dared to ask me that question.”

  Ava swallowed, her fear quickly replacing her curiosity. She wanted to be far away from the blue, from the sirens who hovered near him.

  “The first was a dragon.” He blinked as though trying to remember accurately. “A red dragon. I very much wanted to purge him. I had never tasted a red dragon before, you see.” He licked his cracked lips. “Only blue, blue, blue. And their thoughts are all so similar, though some held nuggets of gold buried in their crowded minds.”

  He halted suddenly, moving his lips, whispering under his breath in blue tongue. Who is he talking to? Ava was afraid of the answer. The dragon shook his head, and continued.

  “But I did not take the red dragon’s mind. And I will not take yours. Yet.” He sniffed the air near Ava, so close to her that she could feel the chill of his skin on hers. “You have an interesting mind. But I must be patient.”

  “If I were you, I’d let me go. Or you’ll end up very, very dead.”

  The blue dragon put his hand to his chin in thought. It was unnatural. A practiced motion. “Your dragon will come for you,” he said. “I am surprised he is not already here. When I have him, I will have my bartering chip. And then, I will make an alliance with the red court in return for your safety.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. They won’t agree to helping you with…whatever it is you’re trying to do. They’re smarter than that.”

  The blue dragon clenched his fist. Ava had insulted his intelligence. “I offer people what they want,” he explained. “To blue dragons, I will offer a wealth of information. To the greens, the greatest treasures. And to the reds, their relations. Their loved ones safely returned.”

  “And the sirens?”

  He blinked at her. “I will show you, Deceiver.”

  He snapped his fingers and a nightfolk approached. It wore the same languid expression beneath the same deathly pale skin.

  “Kneel,” the blue dragon told it.

  The nightfolk fell to its knees and lifted its hands as though it was receiving a gift. The dragon moved his hands slowly to the creature’s temples. He closed his eyes and whispered something Ava couldn’t understand. Then, without warning, the blue dragon opened his eyes once more. And in them was so much sorrow, so much that it hurt Ava even to watch him.

  The siren at his feet sighed and let out a single tear, such a deep purple that it might have been black. Then the creature crumbled into ash and became the earth around it. Nothing but dirt in the wind.

  The blue dragon caught the tear in a vial before it fell to the ground. He twisted the cap of the glass container and handed it to a werefolk, who promptly hung it from a low lying branch. Ava hadn’t noticed the tree before, but it was covered with bottles of siren’s tears, like a Christmas tree in mourning.

  “You killed it,” Ava whispered. She had never seen a death so graceful.

  “I freed it.” The dragon sat down on a log, winded, as if the act had taken a toll. “The poor beast died long ago. I only purged it of its knowledge, its memories.” He motioned to the dozens and dozens of sirens gathered about him, some hiding behind bushes and trees. “I offer them hope. I give them a way out of their suffering. To die, blissful and ignorant. They come to me, all praying that I grant them this gift.”

  “You…wipe their brains clean.”

  “Aren’t I magnificent?” But his tone was dull, almost sarcastic.

  He stood up, and Ava could tell he was masking discomfort. The dragon studied his own hands, his network of scars. “It will all be worth it…when we find the pearl.”

  “The…the what?” She was surprised at how breathless she sounded.

  She had never seen anything as wicked as what he’d done, but she could almost feel the relief of the siren’s passing. The rest of the sirens watched the blue, all waiting their turn, all wearing crests that matched his. Ancient blue dragon crests.

  “What’s the pearl?” Ava asked again.

  The blue dragon turned to Ava, nearly smiling. “The pearl, my dear, is everything.”

  ***

  The sirens untied Ava and prodded her with their dragonblade weapons until she made it to a looming hole in the ground. It went several feet deep, so far down that it would be impossible to climb out of again. Before she could say a word, the sirens shoved her in.

  She fell hard enough that a shooting pain made its way up her right side. She spit out the leaves that had flown into her mouth as she landed. The smell was the first thing that overcame her. Waste and…something else. Something vile and unearthly. Ava put her hand over her nose, but it did her no good. Tears burned her eyes.

  She backed into the wall, trying to break the laws of physics, trying to disappear. She wasn’t alone. Some of the people in the hole with her were so thin, they couldn’t move. They were no more than skin stretched across angles of bone.

  Ava couldn’t help but whimper. They’re starved, she thought. What is this?

  “We won’t hurt you,” someone said.

  He was a red dragon for sure. Brown eyes, sandy hair, broad shoulders, surprisingly tall. “Not the most handsome group down here, but if you’ve been tossed in, you’re a friend.”

  Ava didn’t move. She was sure she’d vomit. The smell was too strong, her thoughts too scattered. Her resolve was nowhere to be found. The man kept his distance and Ava looked upward to see if she could climb out. Ten or so werefolk peered back at her, the hair prickling off of their skin.

  “If you try to climb out, they beat you and throw you back,” the man said. “But don’t worry. Sometimes he lets people go. Just pulls them out and sends them on their way.” The man licked his lips as though they were dry. “Philip,” he offered. “Philip of Coston Nest.”

  Ava whipped around to face him. “The Costons of Great Nest?”

  He nodded. “You’ve been? Well, I ought to expect that, seeing as we’re only a few miles from there. But most humans have no idea what that even is.”

  “My dragon is there right now.”

  The man’s straggly eyebrows shot into the air. “You’re a rider?”

  “Not yet. We still have to make the pact.”

  The man nodded and walked forward, crouching next to Ava. He seemed well enough. Apparently he hasn’t been in the hole of death that long.

  “Have you met my family, then? Are they well after the raid last night?”r />
  “We’re staying with them, actually, while we’re in Great Nest. They’re all fine.”

  Ava didn’t tell him that Jemma had been attacked by the siren. And she kept Juliette’s involvement to herself as well. Knowing that his daughter somehow had dealings with the blue dragon and his minions would not help anyone escape.

  “How long have you been in here?” Ava asked.

  He shook his head as though trying to clear fog from it. “A few weeks maybe. The blue tosses some meat down once in a while.” He looked around at his comrades. “But it’s never enough.”

  “Do you know what he was talking about? About some pearl?”

  “That blasted pearl!” he screamed, pulling at his own hair. The occupants of the hole watched with little reaction, but Ava inched away from Phillip. A mind who had been too close to hell for too long.

  How many people have lost their sanity in here?

  Phillip composed himself, rubbing his hand. “Always going on about the pearl, pearl, pearl,” Philip said. “All this for a piece of jewelry.”

  Ava sat down on the ground, despite how disgusting she knew it must have been. “I don’t think he’s talking about an actual pearl. It’s a metaphor. He means a treasure. Something he’s trying to find, maybe? Like…maybe something he wants to use it to take all of our memories for himself. Purge us all at once.”

  “The grey court will never let the balance fall away like that.” Phillip said. His voice cracked in desperation. “They will send help. The no-ir will stop him.”

  A few others in the hole mumbled when he mentioned the black dragons, fear and hope mingled in their voices.

  The black dragons. Where are they? Why are they chasing me and Cale instead of finding this maniac? She remembered something the blue dragon had said. That if the greys took interest in her and Cale, it would be to his advantage to keep the two of them alive. Somehow, we’re involved in this.

  “Was the raid terrible?” Phillip asked. “I had to sit here and listen to them plan it all.” He ground his hands into fists, even the broken one. “I could do nothing.”

  Suddenly, Ava realized that something in the dragon world was not right. Phillip’s words reverberated in her mind. ‘I could do nothing’. Ava looked around the hole once more. They were all red dragons, all trapped, all helpless. He should be able to fly. They all should.

  “Philip, can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Why not? I’m sure you’ll get to know us all pretty well in this pit. I know everything about Andrew there.” He pointed to a rather dead, rather rotted corpse.

  Ava tried not to shiver. Be brave, Ava. She had to close her eyes and clear her throat before she continued. “Where’s your rider, Phillip? Why don’t you have one?”

  He shrugged, smacking his dry lips together. “Just never found him. In fact, you’re the first rider I’ve seen in my lifetime.”

  “And you don’t think it’s strange that riders are so scarce?”

  “I suppose…but times change.”

  “No, it’s more than that. My dragon and I were almost killed by a black dragon for no good reason. Then we were exiled by the grey court. Again for no good reason.”

  Another dragon, this one short and stocky, coughed. “Had to be a reason. Greys don’t act without reasons.”

  Ava stood up again and paced, ignoring the smells coming from the ground. “What if the reason isn’t something we’ve done? What if it’s what we’re trying to do? Maybe they don’t want us to pact.”

  The stocky dragon grunted. “Greys only care about the balance. Not about silly little girls.”

  Ava folded her arms and glared at him. “And who are you supposed to be?”

  The man spat on the ground. “Sherwin. Of Culvers Nest.”

  “Well, Sherwin of Culvers Nest, let’s say you’re right. But take into consideration the fact that we haven’t done anything wrong. What reason would the greys possibly have for killing off the only dragon with a rider in the last hundred years?”

  Sherwin ran a hand through his blonde and unbelievably full beard. “You sure you aren’t evil? Maybe they don’t like evil.”

  “She wouldn’t be in this hole with us if she was evil, Sherwin,” Philip said, rolling his eyes. Then he turned to Ava. “Don’t waste all your energy standing and pacing around, rothai. Sit down to keep from getting tired.”

  So Ava sat down once more. “Rothai? Cale called me that once. What does it mean?”

  “Means 'rider',” Sherwin explained. “It’s red tongue. And it’s an honor for him to call you that.”

  Ava pushed aside something she hoped was a chicken bone and not the remnants of a dragon. “I don’t get it.”

  Sherwin sighed. “Of course you don’t. A dragon’s tongue comes from its core.” He tapped his chest. “From who they are in their deepest parts. If Phillips calls you rothai, it’s because he believes it in here. He feels it.”

  Up until then, Cale had been the only person to call her rothai. She wished she could talk to him at that very moment. She wished she could tell him not to come find her, not to fall into the blue dragon’s trap. She wished she could save the first person who ever bothered to care for her, to call her rider.

  Ava looked Phillip in the eye. “Thank you. I’m honored.”

  Phillip and Sherwin exchanged looks until Sherwin sighed. “Alright, alright. I suppose she’s not so bad.”

  Ava sat for hours amid the waste and the death and the dying while Sherwin and Philip took turns telling stories and singing songs to the others. Ava quickly realized that these men were the reason the surviving dragons were alive. She had never heard dragons sing before, but as she listened, she felt the truth in their voices. It’s coming from their core.

  The men’s voices lifted and fell, twisting and floating along, and she could tell they’d been singing together since they were children. She had no idea what the words to the song were. It was all in red tongue. But the melodies moved the soul so that even the other dragons closed their eyes and joined. When Ava closed her eyes, she imagined a dragon soaring through the skies. Cale was right, she thought. Red dragons were made for flying.

  When she opened her eyes again, there were dozens of werefolk peering over into the hole, watching and listening as the dragons finished their ballad. It gave Ava an idea. A risky one. She stood up and pulled Phillip and Sherwin to their feet.

  “How would you guys like to get out of here? Tonight?”

  The dragons exchanged skeptical looks. “We told you. It’s not wise to try to climb out.”

  Ava shook her head. “We’re not going to climb out. We’re going to get them to climb in.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up as the scattered pieces of her plan came together in her head. “Who wants to dance with me?”

  Sherwin frowned the deepest, so Ava took him by the hand. “Phillip, I need you to sing for us.”

  Phillip nodded, confusion on his face. He began to sing a heart-crushing ballad when Ava smacked him in the shoulder. “Don’t make me cry. Sing something happy. And sexy.”

  Phillip blinked at her. “You want something…sexy…so you can dance with Sherwin?”

  Sherwin grinned, his pudgy face lighting up. “I’ve never danced with a human before,” he said. He cracked his knuckles.

  Ava almost laughed. “I don’t mean a fight,” she said, remembering Onna’s version of a dance. “I mean a real one. You guys dance for real too, right?”

  “Of course,” Sherwin huffed. He put a hand on either side of Ava’s waist. She was taller than him by more than six inches, but she wiped the smirk off her face.

  “Go on, Phillip,” Sherwin said.

  Phillip began to sing something different. It was low and guttural, and he stomped his feet to the rhythm. Ava could imagine dancing to it at some sort of ancient party, where everyone sipped mead and flailed torches around.

  Then, all of a sudden, she realized she was nervous. Crap. What am I thinking? I don’t know how to dance like
this. She stalled, then sucked in a breath and started again, uncertain of what she was doing as she swayed her hips from side to side. The faster Phillip began to sing, the easier it was for Ava to move along to the music, until Sherwin stepped aside and just let her go on. She twisted and turned, moving her arms to the ups and downs of Phillip’s song.

  “That’s not bad,” Sherwin said.

  “Give me better compliments than that,” Ava said in her sweetest voice.

  She touched Sherwin’s chin, pretending to beckon him toward her. “I’m serious, Sherwin. Compliment me. A lot,” she whispered into his ear. He turned red, stammering over his words.

  “What…uh…what a beautiful girl,” he said loudly, awkwardly. It sounded so forced that Ava almost stopped to give him a piece of her mind.

  “Move,” someone said. A boy Ava had hardly noticed. He had been on the far side of the hole and Ava could have sworn he’d been half asleep the entire time. He was pale blonde and thin, his face sunken in from lack of food. “You’re making them jealous?” he asked.

  “Exactly.”

  He nodded, took Ava’s hand, and spun her. “I’ll show you how to handle a woman like this,” he said loud enough for everyone listening to hear.

  He pulled her in close and Ava gasped, playing the part like a professional. Try to be like Onna, she told herself. She would be perfect at this. The boy moved along to the beat with her, sliding his hands over her hips, making sure that his eyes chased her every curve.

  It was better than compliments. Ava could hear the sirens hissing their jealousy.

  Sherwin folded his arms and scowled. “Hey, you can’t just steal a dragon’s partner,” he objected. The boy reached over and shoved him away.

  “She’s mine,” he said. He returned to Ava and ran his hand down her spine as he pulled her closer to him.