Page 131 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

Nick’s voice is grim. “Keep your senses sharp and stick close together. Follow me.”

We follow him toward a pillar. Mist begins to pour into the arena, the moisture thickening in spots and hindering visibility. A scream rings out from the densest area. Metal clangs. Red soon tinges the edges of the vapor. Blood.

A throwing star cuts through the mist and lands close to the stands. Several in the crowd yelp and skitter back.

My throat tightens, and I struggle to swallow.

The patter of rain draws my attention. My mind immediately assumes Thorne, but the source comes from a pillar to my left. Beneath the shower, Mark Levine has cornered an alicorn and rider from another team. “Give me your box.”

“No.” The rider attempts to fly around him. The blur of something whizzing through the air leads to a scream. The dagger rams into the fledgling’s right eye clear through to the back of his skull. His mouth falls open, his good eye blinking as confusion colors his gaze.

“This isn’t real.” The wounded noise Olive makes is echoed by my soul. “Oh gods, it’s not supposed to bereal.”

It is now. I wait for someone—anyone—to call the trial and remove Mark for violating the rules, but no one does. I glance up and find the king watching. He sees what’s happening, and yet allows these horrors to continue.

Bastard. Him and every last one of the Flighthaven staff who do nothing to stop this.

The fledgling slumps over his alicorn, slides from the saddle, and plummets to the ground, his bones cracking…his blood gushing.

My heart hurts. I can’t breathe.

Olive reaches over to me and squeezes my fingers. Flapping noises call my attention overhead.

Torno flies an orange dragon toward the stands. The beast perches on the stone awning above Xenon’s thronelike seat, saliva dripping from its open jaw and serpent’s tongue.

Rage, fear, and sorrow bombard me—eliciting a flinch and a shiver—each emotion bursting from the dragon’s thoughts and tearing at my mind. My heart quickens, and my throat clenches, the beast’s proximity allowing the assault.

As nausea overwhelms me, the arena I’m in disappears.

Chapter Forty-Seven

My mind is taken to the Cyne mountain range, with snowcapped peaks, crisp air, howling winds. Images snap on and off in my head, no different than my dreams, as I experience what the dragon does…

Flying over the range.

Landing near the cavern the beast calls home.

Fire spilling from its mouth to heat its eggs, making certain the warmth isn’t too hot or cool, ensuring some of the offspring hatch as females, and others as males.

Air spills from my lungs. Earth magic in all forms ambushes me—or rather the dragon—in rapid-fire images.

Water magic drenches then freezes the beast’s wings to prevent flight.

Fire magic pushes against flames pouring from the creature’s mouth, its human adversaries trying but failing to cow the dragon this way.

Mountains rumble from earth magic. Loosened boulders tumble down and seal the entrance to the creature’s cavern…trapping the well-tended and loved offspring inside where they’ll die instead of hatch.

Air magic pushes the dragon off the cliff it clings to and into a metal net held by humans, imprisoning the magnificent creature born to be free.

Sorrow grips me at the awful scenes, at the memories of this traumatic time the dragon endured. My queasiness returns, and I struggle against the dimming corners of my vision. I can’t vomit, weep, or lose consciousness. Fighting is my only chance to succeed and someday free the dragons.

The ground beneath the column trembles. Unlike other times, the pillar doesn’t tilt right or left in an effort to smack those on the course.

The earth’s groans startle me back into my own mind. The pillar in front of us doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck’s happening?” Fear and bewilderment lace Nick’s question. “What’s the column going to do…Oh,shit.”

Beneath us, the earth separates and eyril tendrils shoot up, their tips curling like fingers as they try to latch onto our alicorns’ hooves to pull the creatures below the…

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