Page 7 of City of Secrets and Shadows
Septimus ran a hand through his dark hair, wincing as his fingers brushed the bruise on his temple. “The Imperial City is three weeks’ journey from here, through the most dangerous territories the Empire controls. Every soldier, bounty hunter, and mercenary will be looking for three escaped gladiators on a stolen dragon.”
“I’m aware of the risks.”
“Are you?” Septimus leaned forward, intensity in every line of his body. “Because this sounds like throwing away the freedom we’ve just won.”
“What freedom?” I shot back. “Running forever, looking over our shoulders until old age or imperial steel finds us? That’s not freedom. It’s just a larger cage.”
The dragon shifted behind us, its massive tail curling protectively around our small circle. The wind had strengthened again, sending hot, dry air gusting through the clearing, carrying the scent of the coming storm.
“We could go south,” Tarshi suggested, his voice careful. “Beyond imperial borders. Start new lives where no one knows what we were.”
“And leave the dead unavenged?” I shook my head firmly. “I can’t. I won’t.”
A heavy silence fell. I watched both men, reading the conflict on their faces. They thought I was being foolish, reckless. Perhaps I was. But the need for justice burned too fiercely to ignore.
“I’ll go with you,” Tarshi said finally, his voice quiet but certain. “Though I think it’s madness.”
I turned to Septimus, waiting. His green eyes were troubled, his mouth set in a grim line. “Three weeks to certain death,” he muttered. “With him.” He jerked his head toward Tarshi.
“Your choice,” I reminded him. “Stay or go.”
Septimus sighed, resignation and determination mingling in his voice. “Then I go too. Someone has to keep you alive long enough to realize this is insane.”
Relief washed through me, though I was careful not to show it. However fragile this truce is between them, it was a beginning. “We leave at dusk then,” I decided. “Travel by night while it’s cooler. The dragon can carry all three of us, yes?”
As if in answer, the creature stretched its wings, the vast leathery expanse momentarily blocking out the sun. It was larger than the arena dragons we’d fought in exhibitions, its scales adeeper shade of bronze, patterns more complex. Not just a beast of burden but something altogether more magnificent.
“It can carry us,” Tarshi confirmed. “Though not indefinitely. It will need to rest, hunt.”
“Then we plan accordingly.” I stood, suddenly eager for action after the night of waiting and worry. “Let’s organize the supplies, figure out what we’re missing.”
As the men began sorting through the packs, I walked a short distance away, needing a moment alone to steady myself. The enormity of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm me – the Empire hunting us, the Imperial City looming like an impossible fortress in my mind, and the face of Commander Aurelius, the architect of so much suffering.
The wind whipped my hair across my face, and I tasted sand on my lips. The storm clouds had conquered half the sky now, turning day to premature twilight. We would need shelter before it hit.
The dragon followed, its massive form surprisingly quiet as it moved to my side. It lowered its head to my level, those ancient eyes studying me with what could only be described as concern.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted in a whisper, pressing my forehead against its scaled snout. “I just know I can’t let it go. They deserve justice.”
The dragon made a soft sound, almost a purr, vibrating through its body into mine. Then, something extraordinary happened – a feeling brushed against my mind, not words exactly, but an impression: understanding. Approval. Protection.
I pulled back in shock, staring into those intelligent eyes. “Was that you?”
It blinked slowly, deliberately, and the sensation came again – stronger this time, a sense of connection that went beyond physical contact. Not speech, but communication nonetheless.
“How is this possible?” I whispered, awe replacing fear as the connection strengthened. Through it came impressions rather than thoughts – flight, freedom, hunt, protect. Simple concepts but unmistakably intentional.
The dragon nudged me gently, and one final impression came through with crystal clarity: mine.
I wasn’t its master or its rider. I was its chosen. Its companion.
“Livia?” Tarshi’s voice broke the moment. “Storm’s coming. We should find shelter before it hits.”
I turned to find both men watching me with concern, their earlier animosity temporarily set aside. The dragon straightened, the mental connection fading but not disappearing entirely – a gentle presence at the edge of my awareness.
“Yes,” I said, noting the darkening sky. “There’s a rock formation a few miles east. We might find a cave or overhang there.” There was. My father had often taken Tarus and I there. It would only be another two or three miles to where our village had been, but I couldn’t face the idea of going there. I doubted there was anything left anyway.
We gathered our supplies quickly, the wind now strong enough to send small pebbles skittering across the ground. The dragon bent low, allowing us to mount, all three of us settling awkwardly along its neck. Septimus positioned himself behind me, as far from Tarshi as possible, but he didn’t complain.
