FOR A LONG TIME AFTER ALTAN LEFT, I SAT ON MY bed, counting panicky heartbeats. One hundred fifty-three, one hundred fifty-four, one hundred fifty-five . . .
TWO HUNDRED SEVENTY-THREE, two hundred seventy-four, two hundred seventy-five.
DEAR DAMYAN AND Darina, what was I supposed to do now?
I’D LONG AGO curled over until my forehead touched my knees. There was no farther for me to bend, not without crushing bones, but still I wanted to shrink down into nothing. Because I was nothing.
“Decide whether you’ll tell Altan your secret,” Gerel said, five hundred heartbeats later. “Lying isn’t one of your options. You’re clearly a terrible liar.”
“Don’t you think she knows that?” Ilina snapped. “Can’t you see that she feels awful enough without you telling her how badly she messed up?”
Hristo cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that helps.”
I tried a little harder to collapse into myself.
“Don’t bother to defend her,” Gerel said. “I told her decans ago that she needed to decide to tell Altan her secret or not. I told her to stick with whatever she decided, because Altan won’t give up his quest to learn it. Planting your feet and fending off attacks is the only thing you can do against him.”
Everything inside me shriveled.
How had my life come to this?
How could I fix this?
Maybe . . . Maybe just one person at a time.
I couldn’t bring myself to move for another hundred heartbeats, but at last I crawled under the bed. ::I’m sorry. There are so many things I should have told you from the start. Like who I am. Then you’d have known it’s not safe to be nice to me.::
It wasn’t a surprise when the only answer on the other side of the hole was silence.
::I want you to know that this was never my intention. Not that knowing helps you now. I was wrong. I should have been more careful, but I wanted to be your friend, even though I knew it wasn’t possible. Idris and Damina never got along.::
My chest expanded and dropped with a long sigh. I’d been so foolish. So naïve.
::Nothing can make up for what happened to you,:: I went on. ::Especially nothing I can do. I know that. But I also know that I owe you, and I won’t forget it.::
I closed my eyes, but I saw him in the interrogation room again, strapped to the chair with noorestone heat pressing through him.
::You may not want my attempts at making amends,:: I said, ::and given what just happened, I wouldn’t blame you. Or if you never want to speak to me again. But if you’ll accept my efforts, I will help you however I can. Anything I can do. I want to start with getting you and the others out of the Pit.::
That hadn’t gone well so far, though.
::That’s all I’ve wanted since coming here—to get out.:: I closed my eyes. ::And I want to get you out. That’s why I came back. For you.::
Two long taps. One short. ::Me?:: Or maybe there wasn’t a question in that. Maybe it was simply a repeat: ::Me.::
Tension burned through my whole body, and my heart leaped up into my throat. “You.” The word came out like a puff of smoke. I pressed my mouth into a line and went back to the quiet code; I wanted to use his language. ::I will find a way.::
::How?:: Somehow, he made the quiet code sound doubtful. And of course he doubted me. I doubted me.
::I don’t know anymore. Nothing I’ve tried has worked. I wanted to sneak food for you, but instead the Luminary Council took me away. I wanted to make sure you got a job, but the noorestones—:: Had shredded his feet. Were they better yet? Could he walk now?
Long notes of silence played between us.
::I haven’t given up,:: I said. ::I have to get out, and I want you to come with me.::
With me.
I wanted him to come with me.
One. Two. Three. Seconds pounded by until finally, a shadow fell on the far side of the hole and Aaru peered back at me, his face silhouetted by the dim noorestone light. All I could see was the slope of his forehead and tip of his nose and gaunt cheeks until he turned and it was all lost.
He tapped on the floor. ::I want to escape. My family needs me.::
His family. Of course. ::I’ll make sure you reach them.::
Though how I’d get a fugitive to the most isolated and protected island without getting us all arrested again, I had no idea.
One thing at a time.
First, I had to get us out of here.
I scrambled out from under my bed and went to my door. “Gerel.” I kept my voice as low as possible.
She didn’t look up from where she sat cross-legged in the center of her cell.
“Gerel,” I repeated, just a little louder.
“I can hear you.” Her relaxed hands became fists. “I was just ignoring you.”
“Oh.” I glanced downward. But then I remembered I was trying to help her. I steeled myself. “Tell me about Altan.”
That got her attention. Gerel jerked straight up and met my eyes. Hers were hard and cold. “What? You think you can make peace with him? After lying to him?”
“I didn’t lie to him,” I said. “I told him what he wanted to know.”
Gerel climbed to her feet, as lithe as a cat. “And what was that?”
“The reason I’m here.” I could feel Ilina’s and Hristo’s attention from the neighboring cells. Chenda’s and Aaru’s, too. “I learned of treachery. In the Crescent Prominence sanctuary, dragons are being captured and sent to the Algotti Empire. But when I told the Luminary Council, they betrayed me. I thought they would put a stop to the exportation. Instead, they put me here.”
Gerel was shaking her head. “Why would anyone send dragons away? Doesn’t everyone know that without dragons to keep the gods here, our very islands will get up and leave us?”
“Everyone knows about the Great Abandonment,” Ilina said. “But apparently there are people who are willing to risk that it’s a myth.” Bitterness edged her voice. “And some who will do anything for power—even deliver the children of the gods to our enemies.”
Gerel pressed her face to the bars to look at Ilina. “And what do you have to do with any of this?”
“My parents work for the Luminary Department of Drakontos Examination in Crescent Prominence. I was the first to notice that dragons were missing.”
“Hmm.” Gerel turned to Hristo. “And you?”
“I am Mira’s protector.”
“Some protector.” Gerel motioned at her cheek. “She has a terrible gash on her face, if you didn’t notice. But you’re Hartan. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t protect her. You’re too soft for that sort of work.”
Hair stood on my arms and my lips curled back with a snarl. “You will not talk to him like that. Hristo has saved my life more times than you could imagine.”
Gerel’s gaze whipped toward me. “The little dragon can spit fire after all.”
“I would give my life for Mira.” Hristo spoke low and even, like the shooting anger all around him wasn’t even there. “As for your accusations, no one is more aware of my failure to protect her from the snakes on the Luminary Council than I. Nevertheless, my mission remains the same.”
“It’s my fault I got hurt. Not Hristo’s.” I dragged my fingertips over the cut on my cheek; it was hot with inflammation.
“If you say so.” Gerel crossed her arms. “So what are you going to tell Altan? Insist that you were truthful before? Try to appeal to his better side?”
I shrugged helplessly.
“You’ll gain nothing there. He doesn’t have a better side.” She almost sounded sad for me. “We were in the same trainee group and he constantly battled me for top position. He never won—not until I ended up in here.”
“Then what do you suggest?” I asked.
“Nothing. He will expect you to tell him the truth this time—”
“I did—”
“And whatever you held back before. You’ll have to give him what he wants.”
That was all the encouragement my anxiety needed. As though my body wasn’t connected to my mind at all, my fingers and hands spasmed. My mouth pulled into a grimace, tugging painfully at the gash. And my heart drummed in my ears loud enough to deafen me to every other sound. Even my eyes betrayed me, with my vision tunneling.
I couldn’t breathe.
Then a door opened at the end of the cellblock, and the screech of keys and cells opening sang through the hall. One by one, someone opened every unoccupied cell.
Altan.
He strode in with his usual swagger, as though he owned the entire Pit. The map of thin scars across his face was a reminder of the battles he’d won, and that he was second only to Gerel. He stood before me, a sinister smile twisting over his mouth.
“What’s happening?” I rasped. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to have a talk.” He grazed a finger across the ring of keys on his belt. “But first, I need to ensure you’re properly motivated to tell me everything. The truth this time.”
Black fog shimmered around the edges of my eyes, made worse with every word he spoke. Even my vision dimmed, and sounds came muted and far away. My fingers and toes were numb, and every breath I took felt like glass through my throat. One breath. Two. Three.
Not now, I prayed. This was not the time for the panic to overtake me. But it was too late. Did I ever have a chance when the panic came? No. It was the part of my own mind that loved to betray me when I needed to be strong.
A key scraped my lock, and iron rang.
“Come out of there.” Altan grabbed my arm and yanked me from the cell. I staggered out and stood in place while he shouted instructions to someone at the end of the hall. I could barely hear over the new surge of anxiety filling my head.
Movement fractured the tunnel of darkness.
Aaru.
His head dropped downward, and his stubble-covered face was ashy with grime and nearly two months in the dark. His clothes, which hadn’t fit right to start with, were tattered and filthy. And his shoulders curled inward, his posture bent under the weight of the Pit.
But then he looked at me—met my eyes. His were still the black of extinguished noorestones, framed with ragged hair, and they pierced through the panic boiling inside me. My quick breathing slowed to something normal and the black fog around my vision retreated. A sense of cool relief whispered through me, and for an entire second, I forgot—
Then his gaze cut to my cheek, and I burned with shame. I couldn’t turn my face fast enough to hide it, to prevent him from seeing what would surely become a spectacular scar. When I glanced back, he was gone.
Just a shadow in the cell.
What had he thought? I hadn’t noticed any shift in his expression—his face was as silent as his voice—but surely he’d been repulsed. I was ruined now, and if he’d ever thought of me in a way that one might call fondly, that, too, was likely ruined as well.
“Embarrassed?” Amusement filled Altan’s tone as he turned toward me again.
I’d been born with one gift: my face. There was no way Altan could understand what it was like to lose that.
“I have a surprise for you.”
Most certainly I didn’t want any surprise from Altan, but when a low whine—and a rattle of chains—came from down the hall, I couldn’t stop myself from looking.
A dragon waited in the anteroom. Drakontos ignitus.
She was a juvenile, if the nubby facial horns and brown scales were anything to go by. In a few years, she’d look like a four-legged flame with fierce horns and a wingspan that rivaled even the larger species. But for now, she was a small creature—her shoulder would come up to my hip—and she crept low to the ground, shaking her head in small, determined motions.
Then I saw why.
She was muzzled and shackled, with heavy rings on each leg. Iron chains let four warriors hold her in place.
“What’s happening?” I whispered. “What are you doing?”
“This is Kelsine.” Altan jerked me toward the anteroom—and the dragon. “Her parents were taken with the others months ago. We managed to hide Kelsine and a few of the other juveniles, but they haven’t been the same since.”
We were twenty steps away, walking fast. I hadn’t even had a chance to look inside Hristo’s and Ilina’s cells.
Altan kept talking. “The muzzle puts pressure on her spark gland, keeping her from breathing fire. This is the first time she’s been out of the Hall of Drakon Warriors. She’s probably frightened.”
Ten steps.
The dragon lashed her head as we neared, but one of the guards gave his chain a sharp jerk, and she stilled, fixing her gold eyes on me. Accusing.
Five steps.
Altan guided me around the tethered dragon and paused me in the anteroom.
“What’s happening?” I asked again.
Altan only glanced at his fellow warriors and nodded.
Together, the four men prodded Kelsine forward, into the doorway. The two at the rear bent and unlocked the shackles, and Kelsine’s talons scraped against the floor at the sudden freedom. A sharp grunt squeezed from her clenched jaws.
While the front two men bent to unlock those shackles, the two at the rear pulled copper rods the length of my forearm from their belts. Dragon reins. Kelsine didn’t notice, though. Or care, because the front shackles were off, and the guards were working on the muzzle.
Her wings twitched as the iron fell away. Flame lurched from between her teeth as the guards nudged her through the door.
“Wait—”
My cry was too late.
The guards put Kelsine, the frightened young dragon, into the cellblock with my friends.
And shut the door.