Page 102 of The Spark that Ignites
The oxygen depleted as the barrier fell, a fine ashy mist raining down accompanied by golden, flaming stars. It was nothing like the time in the meadow when thekhaosflame had fought back. There was no fear now. No doubt. Only power.
Emmery’s eyes sprang open, the scent of soot and crackling embers in her nose.
Vesper crossed his arms and grinned. “I’m impressed. That was flawless.”
“Yes, well”—her cheeks flushed, though they were already pinked from the cold—“Briar is a good mentor.” Emmery winced at the warm blood dribbling down her wrist. She must have cut deeper than she thought. The crimson dripped, tainting the fresh snow.
“Here, let me.” Vesper produced a cloth from his pack and took her hand. Even his gloves were frozen. “It’s the least I can do.” He bound the wound and yanked the knot with his teeth. Giving her hand a quick pat, he turned toward the cave. “Well, this place is bound to be a shithole after being locked up for so long.”
“Can’t wait,” Emmery murmured, joining at his side. “After you. I insist.”
Vesper took the lead, and they tread into the dark.
As they slunk through the tunnel, rats skittered at their feet—not toward their destination, but for the exit. And whatever they fled from brought a nervous twist to her gut. Emmery lit the way, herkhaosflame contained in her palm, but there wasn’t much to see besides glowing cave moss and blank beige walls.
Only the staccato drip of water broke their mutual silence, as if their voices would betray them to some unknown presence. But a mix of relief and nerve shredding anxiety struck Emmery as white light emerged at the tunnel’s end. The faint glow beckoned like a lifeline through the swallowing darkness.
Their pace quickened.
With the scattered light came the stench—a mix of putrid rot, sulphur, sickening sweetness like decaying fruit, and something darker. Sinister. Magical.
Emmery’s hand flew to her face. “What kind of magic is this?”
She gagged and swallowed her nausea. Vesper shook his head, his nose wrinkling but expression hard. He drew the sword from his back. Holding her breath, Emmery unsheathed her daggers, clutching them until her knuckles whitened.
She squinted through the invasive brightness, and her stomach lurched. Corpses, suspended in a state of rot, desecrated the large chamber. Bloated insects endlessly feasted, and Emmery swatted the drunken buzz grazing her ears as they bumbled through the tainted air. Engorged rats larger than her boots stumbled past and acid choked her throat. Rusty reds, mottled pinks, and tangled browns slathered mismatched entrails, mangled bodies, scattered limbs—
She had felt Death’s presence before; the slick blood and the hum of fleeting life but this ...
This was unholy. Sickening.
Every shred of her soul screamed to run. To hide. To shield her eyes from these obscenities. It was Vesper's fumbling hand finding hers, seeking comfort of his own, that kept her from fleeing with those rats.
From the impossibly high cracked ceiling, revealing slivers of sky and snowy flurries, the colossal iron chains suspended a dragon the size of a ship. Hooks penetrated its spidery veined wings—larger than life but atrophied. Devoid of colour except for the deep, hollow black, the creature's massive scaly face and body hung. Limp. Still. A morbid portrait of death.
Scarlet splattered the damp cave floor below it.
The creature was bleeding and had been for some time.
“Fuck,” Vesper choked, his voice hoarse. His sword tip dragged along the soiled ground with a grinding metallic ring. He covered his mouth, a slight tremble to his hand.
The dragon gave no indication of their presence, but its chest inflated with ragged breaths. Its palpable pain skated her skin—a sharp sorrow accompanying the prison of chains. Not only its wings were bound, but raw bloody bands circled the shackles at its legs.
Who would do this? A shiver wracked her body, and she gaped, a weight stifling her chest. “This is ... cruel.”
Vesper paled as if he may vomit. “I—I didn’t know—”
The dragon opened its blood-red eyes and fixated on Vesper. Emmery’s breath hitched as it sized him up, blinking like a feline assessing its shiny, new toy.
“Ah. Rare visitors. What adelight,” the dragon’s rough voice boomed through the chamber, lifeless yet potent. Its lips peeled back revealing fangs capable of devouring a man in a single bite. Vesper shoved Emmery behind him. “You broke the barrier. Very good.”
“Not for your escape,” Vesper replied, a quake to his voice.
“Naturally,” the dragon purred. “Have you come to relish in my torment? Or have you come to ask for something? Perhaps take.Kennaalways do.”
Vesper’s throat bobbed. “We’ve come to collect dragon essence.”
The dragon’s lips pulled back into a sneer. “A bold statement coming from the same blood that imprisoned me here.”
