Page 63 of The Flame King's Queen

The moment I seize the last flag, the drumbeats cease and so do the musicians.

I lean forward and pat Scourge’s scales, feeling the tension drain out of his body.

Magnificent, I tell him as we head back to the others. But was it enough for us to win? I can tell Scourge is wondering it as well as he has his head turned in the direction of the Temple Crone.

I slide down Scourge’s flank and scoop my mate into my arms. Panting slightly, I listen for the Temple Crone announcing our result.

“Scourge and Zabriel collected every flag in one hundred and ninety-five drumbeats.”

My heart soars hearingninety, but plummets back to earth with thefive. Merrex and Sundra were faster by three beats. Just three beats.

“Dragon piss,” I mutter.

Isavelle brushes the backs of her fingers over my sweaty cheeks. “You’re disappointed. But you and Scourge were wonderful.”

“I wanted to win to make my queen proud.”

“I’m already proud of you,” my mate reminds me.

I know she is, but I want the heady taste of victory on my tongue when I kiss her. “We will just have to try even harder during the next event, won’t we, Scourge?” My dragon raises his head proudly and snorts sparks in agreement.

At the end of the event, Sundra, me, and Stesha are presented with our gold, red, and white ribbons, respectively, and the Temple Mothers update the leaderboard. Sundra has seven points and is in first place. Pavel has five in second place. I have two points in third place, and Stesha and Rhan each have one point and share fourth place.

“You and Scourge did well,Ma’len. I’m impressed by both of you.”

I turn and see that the dragonmaster has approached so he can also inspect the board. Stesha holds out his right hand to me, and we clasp wrists in mutual congratulations.

“So did you and Nilak,” I tell him.

“I’m proud of my dragon, but this was never our event. I’m too easily irritated.” The dragonmaster is calm, but behind him, Nilak’s bandaged tail lashes as she glares at the namyr players crossing the dragongrounds back toward the castle. They see her watching them with her teeth bared and walk a little faster.

I remember Stesha’s maxim that he drilled into our skulls when he was teaching us to ride. If a dragon makes a mistake, it’s always their rider’s fault. In this case I’m not certain I’d agree, but I don’t dare argue with Stesha while his dragon is in such a foul mood.

Stesha jerks his chin at the sky behind me, and I turn and see a dragon approaching from the east. Auryn lands, his scales flashing in the sunlight, and Kane drops to the ground. Dragon and rider stand apart from the rest of us, their hard black eyes glaring at all who dared laugh at them.

“So he’s come back,” Stesha murmurs. “Good.”

“Still determined to best him in the Dragon Games?”

“If my heart is beating, you can assume so.” He takes a long, slow look around the dragongrounds and spies Aurissa and Auriana with their riders. “Those two idiots haven’t been turned into dragon fodder yet. Normally I would hesitate over dragons who have tasted human flesh, but when their riders are so pathetic, I don’t believe we can hold it against them. The right rider need never worry it will happen a second time, under the right dragonmaster, of course.”

“Stesha, what are you talking about?”

“Did you know it’s possible to assimilate wild dragons into an established flare?”

Aurissa and Auriana came to the dragongrounds to compete today, but both Rhan and Corin didn’t believe it was wise to enter the Three Howls, or the sisters refused. The dragonmaster is watching the sisters closely.

“You’re a dark beast sometimes, Stesha. Once I was afraid you were trying to steal my mate. Kane lost his mind over you taking Ravenna from him. Now you’ve got your hungry eyes on Aurissa and Auriana. You’re always interfering with someone’s woman.”

“What on earth would I do with someone else’s woman?” he says, but his attention returns to the golden sisters, and his eyes gleam. “Dragons, though. Dragons are another matter entirely.”

21

Isavelle

The Dragon Games continue, each event drawing bigger crowds than the last. The third event begins at dusk, and I understand why it’s held in the dark when I witness the competing dragons shooting flames and sparks at great distances across the dragongrounds. This event favors bigger dragons, so Esmeral and I decide to sit this one out. I cheer and applaud as Scourge breathes a line of flame across the ground at least a dozen lengths of his body from nose to tail.

Zenevieve, who’s sitting by my side, applauds and whoops along with me. “That will be difficult for the other dragons to beat. Zabriel has a chance of winning this event.”

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