by Sarah Noffke
Rider and dragon fell in a heap but were on their feet immediately, startled and disoriented from the assault. They didn’t waste any time, and the rider was soon back on the brown dragon, this time running for safety around the side of the building.
Wilder caught all this as he closed in on Gray, who was distracted by watching his mate being thrown against the side of the building by a gust of wind. That’s why he didn’t know when Simi was right on top of him.
She slowed in front of the gray dragon, lifted her front feet, and grabbed the dragon around the neck. Using incredible strength, she lifted the dragon and slammed it down toward the fountain. The pair fell like a stone and created a huge splash when they plummeted into the water.
The tourists all covered their faces from the wave that splattered out of the fountain. There was a great flapping of wings below as the gray dragon pulled itself up out of the water, its rider barely hanging on as it took flight, staying low and landing when it made it to the pavement where, like the other Rogue Rider, it chose to run rather than fly—and fled the scene at once.
Chapter Fifty-One
Tala opened her mouth and as quick as lightning shot out a stream of fire that was faster, hotter, larger, and more forceful than what the silver dragon had sent in their direction.
The two assaults met and like two stones, stopped each other in midair. The fire rained down on the ground below and made the crowd disperse.
A few people helped the robot to its feet, and they hurried off. Mahkah hoped they’d stay out of the way. The last thing he needed was to have to worry about defending mortals when stopping this Rogue Rider. He suspected the silver dragon and rider would use the mortals to their advantage, making them barriers and hostages of sorts.
“We don’t have to fight,” Mahkah said over the space, Tala hardly beating her wings to keep them aloft.
Conversely, the silver dragon struggled to stay in place. That was so much more difficult than flying. That’s probably why the silver dragon lowered to the now-clear ground and looked up at Mahkah with menace in his eyes. The demon dragon would know that fighting the Dragon Elite member was futile. They wouldn’t want to admit it, but dragons were logical, and if they went into a real fight, it would be decisive and over quickly.
The Rogue Rider held up his fist. He obviously didn’t have the same sense as his dragon and probably wasn’t listening to it. “You don’t want to fight because you’re scared. The Dragon Elite don’t know how to fight because all they do is sit on their hands and avoid conflict. Come down here and get what you deserve!”
Mahkah sighed, wishing it hadn’t come to this. At least the silver dragon had made it easy for him, putting itself and its rider straight down on the element that Mahkah controlled—the earth.
He held his arm out straight, his fist closed.
The Rogue Rider frowned up at him, confusion evident on his face.
Mahkah twisted his fist upward in a swift movement, and a second later, the ground buckled under the silver dragon and rider. The concrete fractured severely in multiple places. The cracks spraying out resembled a spider’s web.
The rider stumbled and fell on his backside. The dragon flapped its wings to avoid falling into the chasm opening up in the ground. Its wings hit the rider in the head and knocked him back several yards.
The silver dragon recovered once in the air and hovering above the mini earthquake. Realizing that he’d knocked out his rider, the silver dragon swooped down and picked up the guy by the shoulders and one leg a little clumsily. They slumped, and for a moment it appeared that they’d both crash back down onto the pavement. However, the silver dragon beat its wings extra hard a few times, and they lifted into the air, gaining height as they retreated the opposite way, leaving Mahkah and Tala staring after them.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“Stop!” Sophia yelled, making the ground under the Rogue Riders and magicians shake, or so she imagined the earthquake created by her voice.
Everyone started, suddenly fearful of the dragonrider whose voice could make the ground vibrate.
They all tensed and gave Sophia their attention.
“The magicians have every right to be angry with you Rogue Riders,” Sophia began, all eyes on her. “You show no respect to the race you come from or the community that serves us. You take and take and pillage and destroy. It has to stop. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself with a war on your hands. That’s the last thing the Dragon Elite wants. If we battle, there will be casualties. There could be no end in sight, and the result will repeat history where we destroyed each other until there was nothing left.”
“Destroy the Rogue Riders!” a magician in the crowd yelled. “They deserve the Dragon Elite’s wrath.”
Sophia turned her attention to the crowd of her fellow magicians and fae and mortals. “Our wrath will come at a price. Dragons aren’t meant to fight each other. Riders should be able to coexist. The magical races must stop fighting us as well. We’re here to create peace, but as long as we meet with resistance, there will only be more battles.”
Sophia sat tall on her dragon, looking out at the crowd before glancing over her shoulder at the Rogue Riders trapped in the protective dome. “Hear this final warning. Respect each other. Respect the Dragon Elite. We are your friends. However, if you or anyone challenges us, there will be hell to pay. We are the supreme governing body on this planet, and we make this declaration. If the Rogue Riders don’t find a place that stops causing problems for the world, they will pay. That is our job to do and not magicians'.”
She glanced out at the crowd. “Is that clear?”
There was a collective murmur of yeses from the group along with reluctant nods, but no one fought her authority. She looked directly at Nathaniel and the other Rogue Rider.
“Get out of here and don’t cause problems in this city or any other, or you will have hell to pay. I promise that.”
At the conclusion, Sophia dropped the protective shield.
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t move, and for a moment she was sure he’d try and fight her. The other dragonrider broke the stare-off by running and jumping on his dragon's back and taking off, flying to the east.
Nathaniel’s fingers flexed by his side.
Sophia tilted her head and gave him a challenging look that said, “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
He seemed to understand the meaning in her expression, or he knew that today wasn’t his to challenge her. For whatever reason, he unhurriedly strode over to his green dragon and swung his leg over its back. The pair took off, flying overhead in a circle before speeding away, Nathaniel looking over his shoulder at Sophia the entire time—menace strong in his eyes as he fled.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Why did the blonde put lipstick on her forehead?” Lunis asked Cooper, one of the new dragonriders.
He and his rider exchanged confused expressions as though looking at each other for the right answer. Tension marked the spot between Cooper’s eyes when he shrugged, seemingly afraid he’d be in trouble for not getting the correct answer.
“She was trying to make up her mind,” Lunis said and howled with laughter.
Sophia shook her head at her dragon and offered the new rider and dragon a look of apology. “You’ll get used to his humor…or, well, you’ll come to tolerate it.”
“Or if you’re Bell, Hiker’s dragon, then you’ll get a sour expression on your face anytime anything amusing is said,” Lunis offered and grinned at the red dragon not too far away on the Expanse.
Bell swooshed her tail and tossed her head in the air with a look of superiority.
“You made my point,” Lunis called to the older dragon.
All the riders were on the Expanse, training per Hiker’s orders. Well, all but Evan. He was still strangely missing, although Trin and Ainsley said that he was somewhere in the Castle, according to the messages they’d “felt” from the sentient building. As usual, Quiet didn’t offer
any information on the subject.
Hiker had been satisfied with how the three Dragon Elite had handled the situation in Las Vegas, minimizing damages and keeping the public safe. Things were still tense with the magician community, but thankfully, they knew that the Dragon Elite weren’t to blame for all the bullying and theft done by riders. The situation had worked to fix the Dragon Elite’s reputation, and for that, Hiker was even more relieved.
“We need to find you all weapons that suit your skills and strengths,” Wilder said to the three new dragonriders, who all stood stoically at attention, hardly blinking as they faced the weapons expert.
“Then why do you carry a sword?” Lunis asked Wilder, his expression quite serious. “Why not carry a scythe like the Grim Reaper?”
Wilder lowered his chin, a slight grin on his face as he waited for the punch line.
“Well, you know,” Lunis continued, “because your skill is killing all the fun in life.”
The newbie dragonriders all appeared to be covering their laughter, afraid that it would offend Wilder. However, he was the first one to chuckle at the joke and the loudest.
“At least he’s moved off blonde jokes,” Sophia offered to her boyfriend.
“For Scottish Thanksgiving, I’m only telling Mitch Hedberg lines,” Lunis stated proudly.
Sophia twisted her mouth to the side, an apology on her face. “I don’t think the dragons are invited to the Thanksgiving celebration.”
Lunis sat back on his hind legs and folded his front across his chest, looking like an annoyed teenager. “Why not? I’m American and demand to be part of the festivities.”
“You’re a dragon,” Sophia argued. “I don’t think you have a nationality.”
“That’s highly offensive.” Lunis stuck his snout in the air and pretended to be insulted. “How dare you take away who I am?”
Sophia ignored him but giggled still. “The Scottish Thanksgiving is in the Castle where dragons aren’t allowed, so you’ll have to do your own thing. Why don’t you host something for the dragons in the Pad?”
“Because I like my space and don’t want it to smell like old cheese,” Lunis stated and looked at Simi. “Hint, hint. A bath wouldn’t kill you—or maybe it would.”
The white dragon rolled her eyes and returned to snoozing with the other elder dragons who were lying on the grass nearby, soaking up the autumn sun.
Wilder laughed and returned his attention to the three new riders. “We can have you all explore weapons in the Castle. We have a large inventory, and there should be a suitable option for you.”
Cooper pointed at the elfin-made sword on Sophia’s hip. “Is that where you got that weapon?”
Wilder shook his head and answered before Sophia could. “Oh, no. The mysterious Sophia showed up with that and few details about where she got it from.”
Sophia pulled Inexorabilis from its sheath and brandished it proudly, admiring the curved blade and craftsmanship. “My sister recovered it for me. It belonged to my mother, who was a Warrior for the House of Fourteen. The famous elfin sword-maker Hawaiki created it.”
“Mysterious and boring with hardly any interesting family history,” Wilder teased.
Sophia shot him a mock look of offense. “You’re one to talk. You’re so boring with that rare skill of being able to access all the memories of a weapon.”
Lunis yawned loudly. “He’s dull. Not a single redeeming quality that I can find and I’ve really, really tried to find a single one.”
Wilder nodded in agreement. “I’m the total worst. The only one who beats me on that is Evan, wherever he is.”
“I’m sure he’ll show up right before Scottish Thanksgiving when he smells the turkey and gravy,” Sophia offered.
“Probably,” Wilder answered while striding for the Castle. “Well, how about we go explore the weapons before dinner?”
Mahkah, Sophia, and the three new dragonriders followed him, heading for the Castle.
“Don’t worry about me,” Lunis called. “I’ll be here listening to Tala snore.”
“We’re not worried,” Wilder sang over his shoulder.
“If anyone wants to bring me some mashed potatoes, I won’t stop them,” Lunis said in a rush.
“We’ll see,” Sophia called over her shoulder and winked at her dragon.
“With extra gravy,” Lunis added. “Like, I want those potatoes swimming.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Evan was breathless, sweat running down his brow, his hands gripping the corner of the hallway in what he guessed was a distant corner of the dungeon far under the Castle.
The weeping angels had “transported” him over two dozen times to various places in the building. None of the locations were remotely close to others, his room, the kitchen, or the exit.
Evan was starting to think that he’d be “lost” in the Castle for the rest of his life. Or until he starved, which felt like it wouldn’t be that long.
He pressed his head into the corner of the cold stone wall and muttered to himself, “Please don’t be there. Please. Please. Please.”
Drawing in a breath, Evan straightened, knowing that he couldn’t put this off anymore. He thought that he’d figured out the trick to getting past the stone angels, but it wasn’t easy. The last time he’d tried it, they’d blotted out the torches, cast him in darkness, and ruined his chances. Then they’d transported him to another part of the dungeon. The torches lining the wall were still lit, but that might not last. He only had to make it to a part of the Castle with windows, then that little trick of the mean angels wouldn’t work anymore.
He prepared himself and released the breath he’d been holding. He then stepped around the corner and faced the long dark hallway lined with torches.
Stiffening, he found exactly what he’d expected—at the far end of the narrow corridor was another stone angel with their face covered with their hands.
Wide-eyed, Evan stepped forward and approached the angel that divided him from the dungeon's exit on the other side.
“Don’t blink,” he told himself, thinking that was the answer to the riddle of the stone angels. When he took his eyes off them, they moved. If they got close to him, they transported him.
“Don’t blink,” he repeated and took another step.
The torch closest to him snuffed out.
“Oh, damn it,” he seethed. If there was no light, then the point went to the angels, and they transported Evan yet again.
His stomach rumbled. He could swear he smelled fresh bread and other savory aromas wafting down from the Castle’s kitchen.
I must be losing my mind. Another torch extinguished ahead. “Oh, hell no.”
Evan didn’t have much magical reserve left after playing this game with the Castle for what felt like days. However, he would drain the very last of his magic to get to the feast happening upstairs.
Holding out his palm, Evan created a light orb. It bobbed above his palm, glowing brightly.
All of the torches in the hallway extinguished at once, but the light orb did its job. Evan could still see the stone statue not too far ahead.
He kept his eyes wide, feeling them start to burn from not blinking. As quickly as he dared, Evan strode forward while keeping his gaze on the weeping angel.
When he was to it, he stepped around it, walking backward to ensure he kept his eyes on the angel. He was almost there…
Evan’s heel found a step, and he nearly fell back on the stairs behind him. Then the light orb would have gone out, and he would have found himself transported once more.
Carefully, Evan climbed the stairs backward, keeping his burning eyes focused on the back of the stone angel. Light began to stream in from the space up ahead. He was almost to the first floor and the entrance to the dungeon off the Castle’s entryway.
He’d almost defeated the weeping angel. He only needed not to blink for a little longer—a few more steps. Freedom was right ahead. Evan could taste it.
Chapter Fifty-Five
“I haven’t slept for ten days,” Lunis said casually.
“Oh, really?” Mahkah fell for the joke.
“Yeah, that would be too long,” Lunis replied and howled with laughter. The others at the dining room table joined him, the new dragonriders giggling conservatively. It had been weird for them at first when Lunis poked his head through the Castle’s open window to join them for Scottish Thanksgiving. Then the Castle created a bank of larger windows, and many of the other dragons joined, their long necks poking through as they regarded the spread of food on the dining table.
However, the blue dragon was the only one eating a large vat of potatoes drowning in gravy.
“That was another Mitch Hedberg line,” Sophia confessed to the table while taking the green beans Wilder handed to her.
Lunis sighed. “You don’t have to inform everyone every time I quote the great Mitch Hedberg.”
She spooned a pile of green beans on her plate, next to the “chips” that Trin had insisted on serving with the Thanksgiving meal, although it wasn’t traditional. She said it was because French fries were Evan’s favorite, a bit of longing in her tone. The housekeeper still got the impression from the Castle that Evan was somewhere inside the building, but no one had seen him and it was starting to become worrisome.
“Everything is delicious, Trin.” Ainsley smiled across the table at the housekeeper, who had finally taken a seat after serving the turkey—well, what was supposed to be the turkey. That was the one thing the Castle hadn’t supplied. Instead, it had offered a huge haggis. The new dragonriders were eyeing the gray sheep’s stomach stuffed with various other organs and grains with trepidation.
Wilder leaned over and whispered to Cooper, “It tastes as bad as it looks.”
