Page 73 of Rise of a Fallen Man

Short blue posts marked the openings in the sand. They weren’t easy to spot unless one was looking for them, but the sand over the opening formed a shallow funnel. I noted both the posts and the funnels, then headed toward the mountain with Nave chained at the top.

For the audience, it looked like the wild man was escaping the fire explosions bursting from the sand and came to the mountain for a refuge, then spotted the goddess.

Most of the monster-demons had left already. The few that remained tried to fight me, but I threw them off the mountain quickly enough, unstoppable on my way to the goddess.

Of course, the goddess was supposed to be appalled by my unkempt appearance, and Nave acted that part perfectly.

At the opposite end of the arena, gates opened, releasing the three-winged dragon.

He was a magnificent creature with shimmering royal-blue scales that shone with silver in the sunlight. Massive, the size ofabout six horses, he soared over the arena, his powerful wings whipping the fire of the worms into an inferno.

“Holy mother of gods.” Nave paled.

“It’s fine. Lerrel is in control,” I assured her quietly, climbing up to her.

The games master stood at the foot of the mountain, hidden from the audience by a prop boulder. She held onto a transparent cord. It was thin but strong, infused by magic, unseen to anyone who didn’t know about its existence. One end of the cord was tied to a massive ring in the arena’s floor. The other end was secured to the dragon’s foot. He lurched higher, but Lerrel jerked on the cord, stopping him from getting away.

Staying in character, I growled and bit with my teeth at the knot of the rope that tied Nave’s hands to the mountain. I had two swords on my back, but Lerrel thought untying the rope with my teeth would be more entertaining. She was right, as the noise of the crowd surged when Mountain Bear snarled, bit, and gnawed on the rope—wild and unhinged.

The dragon roared and spewed a burst of fire up into the sky, to the screams of awe from the crowd.

Unlike the orange-red flames of the fire worms, the dragon’s fire was bluish white, casting a moon-like glow down onto the arena.

“Open the mirror,” I urged Nave, who seemed to freeze in shock, her eyes fixed on the magnificent creature soaring above.

The small mirror on her shoulder was obscured by the remnants of her cape on purpose. She was supposed to reveal it after the dragon’s dramatic entrance to make him fly to us. The reflection of sunlight in Nave’s mirror would attract the dragon, mimicking the glistening of the mirror trout in the streams of the dragon’s native Ekans Isles. The trout was the preferred food of the three-winged dragons, and they hunted it from the air by spotting the sun reflecting on the fish scales in the water.

Once the dragon would come closer, I was supposed to catch its tail. Lerrel then would tug onto the cord again, sending the dragon into a tailspin. He’d roll in the arena, and I’d tackle its third wing, preventing him from rising back into the air. That was the plan.

The dragon beat its wings over the arena, fanning the fire of the worms and raising clouds of sand. His third wing bellowed like an iridescent sail above his back. It helped the creature navigate in the air, allowing the massive animal to make sharp, tight turns during the flight.

Lerrel pulled on the cord. The dragon lurched to the side. He roared, blowing fire and frantically beating his wings.

The games master suddenly dropped her arms. Alarm replaced the calm concentration on her face. She tugged at the barely visible cord, gathering it into a coil with no resistance.

Unrestrained, the dragon soared higher.

“It got loose,” Nave gasped. The rope had long slipped from her wrists, only her legs remained tied to the mountain.

“Open the mirror, Nave!” I growled through my teeth, tugging at the knot next to her ankles.

She reached for the shredded remnants of the cape over the mirror on her shoulder.

“Why?” She hesitated, a wave of reflection running through her skin and clothes. “I don’t want him here now. He’ll kill us.”

I couldn’t blame her for refusing to be the bait for the unchained beast. The dragon flew in jerky uncoordinated loops over the arena before spiraling downward.

The audience screamed. Those who still believed this was all a part of the show shouted in excitement. The few who’d realized that something was wrong screamed in horror, ducking in the wind raised by the dragon’s massive wings.

A blast of white-blue fire set aflame the queen’s banners over the top row of seating. Horror spread through the crowd.

Nave grabbed one of my swords from my back.

“Mirror, Nave!” I yelled as the dragon dipped lower over the seats. “Just bring him over here. I’ll deal with him.”

With trembling fingers, she fumbled with the rags over her shoulder as people screamed for help. The dragon zoomed over the rows of seating.

Then, I saw what the dragon must’ve spotted too—the royal platform glistened with the sea of gems, diamonds, and shiny fabrics with golden embroidery. The long train of Ari’s gown draped down the stairs like a waterfall of precious stones. As she turned, the sun reflected in the lenses of her eyeglasses, just as it would’ve in Nave’s mirror.

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