Empire of Flame and Thorns (Flame and Thorns #1)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

S teel rings faintly through the chilly midday air as I use a whetstone to sharpen my knife. One of my fellow guild members rolls a wooden barrel along the street. It produces a wooden rattling sound as it turns over and over. I keep my eyes on my blade.

“Here’s the next barrel,” he says when he reaches me.

With a grunt, he grabs the side of the barrel and tips it back up so that it’s in an upright position. I raise my gaze from the whetstone right as he uses a crowbar to pop the lid of the barrel.

The smell of fish wafts towards me.

I stare at the mountain of fish waiting for me in the barrel. It’s the same thing every day. Transporters bring me barrels or buckets of fish, and I clean it, gut it, and cut it. It’s boring, monotonous, and smelly. But at least it has helped me develop great skills with a knife.

“Thanks,” I say to the transporter who is dusting off his hands after straightening the barrel.

He nods and then heads back down towards Lake Andun, where the actual fishermen work to catch the fish that I and other low-level guild members get to clean.

My gaze flits down to my hands. After I finished the previous barrel, I had a few minutes to spare, so I was able to wash and scrub my hands. And since I want to enjoy the sensation of clean and soap-scented hands a little longer, I keep pretending to sharpen my knife even though I’m already done.

Hopefully, it won’t be too long now before?—

“DRAGONS!”

I snap my head up right as the massive bells atop the watchtower start to ring.

“DRAGONS!” the watchmaster bellows across the city again, his voice amplified by magic. “THE DRAGONS ARE COMING!”

I leap up from my stool so fast that I knock over the empty buckets next to me. The wooden clattering joins the loud metallic clanging of the bells and the shouts that rise from people up and down the streets.

My heart flips in my chest. But not out of fear. No. My heart lurches with excitement.

It has been two and a half weeks since I signed up for the Atonement Trials.

If the dragon shifters are coming in force now, it can only mean one thing.

The tournament is about to start.

Anticipation burns through me as I ram my knife into the holster on my thigh. Then I leave the barrel of fish behind and take off down the street.

All around me, people are doing the same.

The shifters from the Red Dragon Clan fly in and out of the Seelie Court all the time since it’s their responsibility to manage us. But sometimes, other clans, or even the emperor and empress themselves, come to visit for one reason or another. And when they do, they expect us to greet them properly.

One time, about forty years ago, the farseer atop the watchtower, the fae man or woman with magically enhanced eyesight who is responsible for watching the skies for approaching dragons, didn’t spot the Brown Dragon Clan until they were almost at the city. We didn’t make it out to the Dragon Field in time to greet them. It… did not end well.

So the moment the announcement comes, we all rush out to the grasslands on the west side of the city, which have been named the Dragon Field since that’s always where they land.

My heart pounds in my chest as I race through the streets and out through South Gate.

Brisk winds whirl across the grasslands, making my hair flutter behind me. But the midday sun shines down from a clear blue sky and warms my cheeks.

I draw in deep breaths as I slow to a walk and then come to a halt on the grass. Anxious murmuring fills the air as we arrange ourselves into neat rows, but I feel only excitement. The time has finally come. At last, I will get to show everyone just how much of an asset I can really be to our cause.

Sunlight shines down over the palace to my left, making the pale stones glitter like gold. I cast a glance at it while both pain and longing tug at my heart. The dragon shifters will be living inside the palace for the duration of the trials. As will the contestants. I don’t want those damn dragons in there, desecrating our sacred halls. But soon, it will be all ours again.

The woman next to me sucks in a sharp breath.

I whip my gaze back to the grasslands in front of me.

My stomach dips.

There .

On the horizon, high over the massive forest of thorns, dragons become visible as they swoop across the grand mountains to the north called the Peaks of Prosperity.

I draw in an involuntary breath at the sight. I might hate them all with every fiber of my being for how they treat us, but by Mabona, I can’t deny that it’s a magnificent sight.

Two massive silver dragons fly at the front of the procession. Light glints against their scales, making it look like glittering starlight.

To their right and a little behind them flies another gigantic dragon. This one is black like a moonless night.

There is a larger space behind that dragon, after which an entire row of dragons can be seen. One red, one green, one orange, one white, one blue, one brown, and one purple.

An entire host of dragons, in all colors, fills the sky after that.

I let out a long exhale. We can do this. I can do this.

The booming of wings fills the air as the mass of dragons draws closer. Trees shake as the winds that their wings produce slam down over the forest. The red dragon at the edge of the row lets out a deafening roar.

Gasps and whimpers rip from our ranks, and several people around me shrink back.

I stand my ground even as the two silver dragons and the black dragon swoop down towards us at breakneck speed. Others around me scramble back. The dragons get closer.

Booms cut through the air as the first three dragons hit the ground in a cloud of smoke.

Everyone holds their breath.

And out of the dissipating smoke stride the Wings of Freedom, the Forger of Worlds, and the Shadow of Death.

As one, we all drop down on one knee and bow our heads.

Side by side, the Empress and Emperor of the Iceheart Dynasty stride towards us. Draven Ryat walks on their right, two steps behind them.

Briefly closing my eyes, I send a quick prayer to Mabona that Draven won’t recognize me. After all, there is nothing about me that stands out. Silver hair is rather common in our court, and all fae have elegant facial features, so it’s not as if I’m unusually beautiful or anything like that. Nothing special. Nothing remarkable. Which means that Draven won’t recognize me. Probably. Hopefully.

I open my eyes again as several more booms echo across the grasslands. While still keeping my chin lowered, I study the scene before me.

The second row of dragons has landed and shifted. When they shift, it produces smoke, so it temporarily blocks the view of the forest behind them.

Once the smoke clears, the leaders of the other seven dragon clans are standing there on the trampled grass.

Gremar Fireclaw, the leader of the Red Dragon Clan, sweeps a glare dripping with threats over all of us, as if to warn us to be on our best behavior. Since he is responsible for managing our city, any wrongdoing on our part would reflect badly on him. But he doesn’t need to warn us to behave. None of us would be stupid enough to try something when the leader of every dragon clan as well as the empress and emperor themselves are here.

I keep my chin lowered but watch discreetly as Draven and the Icehearts come to a halt a short distance in front of us.

Empress Jessina Iceheart, nicknamed the Wings of Freedom, stands with her back straight and her chin raised. Her pale gray eyes shift casually over the sea of kneeling fae before her. A strong wind makes her long white hair ripple over the regal silver dress that she is wearing. It matches the elegant silver wings visible behind her shoulders.

Beside her, Emperor Bane Iceheart, also known as the Forger of Worlds, watches us all with a smug tilt of his lips while he flares his silver wings slightly. His long black hair has been swept back, barely a strand out of place as it cascades down his back, and a cruel glint shines in his black eyes.

In terms of physical appearance, they couldn’t be more different. And yet, they are mates. Both of them are equal leaders of the rare Silver Dragon Clan. An incredibly powerful species of dragon that, as opposed to all other dragons, breathes ice flames instead of fire. It was those dangerous ice flames that made it possible for the Silver Dragon Clan to conquer all the other clans and bring them to heel underneath their rule.

“Well,” Jessina Iceheart says, sounding incredibly bored. “Is this it?”

Tense silence hangs over the Dragon Field like a suffocating cloak. No one dares to respond since we don’t know who she was addressing.

Behind them, Gremar Fireclaw flicks a quick glance between us and his monarchs while a hint of panic pulses across his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but Bane beats him to it.

“Just wait until the tournament starts.” A wicked smile curves the emperor’s lips. “Then we’ll have some fun.”

“Yes,” Jessina agrees. Then she sweeps her gaze over us again while a sharp smile spreads across her mouth as well. “We traveled a long way for these trials. Make it interesting.”

Before anyone can figure out how to respond to that, the Icehearts turn as one and start towards the Golden Palace. The leaders of the other dragon clans follow. In the sky above, the rest of the dragons are circling as if to keep their leaders safe from threats.

I stare at Gremar’s broad back as he reaches the path lined with dead trees that leads to the palace. He tilts his head up and scowls at something. Following his gaze, I find one tiny little leaf that has sprouted on one of the dead branches.

Hope fills my heart.

Gremar raises an arm, making his red dragon scale armor shift with the motion.

And then he uses his lava magic to incinerate the leaf.

A collective sigh of misery washes through our ranks, but no one says anything. I shake my head at his back as he continues towards the palace with the others.

“Everyone who has not registered as a contestant for the Atonement Trials, get back to the city,” a commanding voice suddenly calls.

Clothes rustle as the vast majority jump to their feet and hurry back to the city. I remain on one knee since I haven’t been told that I’m allowed to rise.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find other people still on one knee as well. My competitors. I’ll have to study them more carefully later, so that I can make a plan for how to beat them.

I turn my head back so that I’m facing forwards again once all the non-contestants have left. The blue-eyed dragon shifter who interviewed me and filled out my registration form two weeks ago is standing on the grass before us.

And so is someone else.

Dread flits through my chest as I notice a pair of legs wearing familiar black armor.

Crap.

Why hasn’t he left with the other clan leaders?

I keep my head bowed while I silently try to force Draven to leave by simply the power of my mind. I even consider using my magic to manipulate his emotions so that he will feel impatient and restless enough to leave. But I decide against it. I can’t risk the administrator seeing it. If he does, he might disqualify me before the trials have even started.

Clothes rustle as the final non-contestants hurry away to my right.

I barely dare to breathe as I keep my eyes on Draven’s black boots.

He takes a step forward.

Shit .

Dry grass crunches underneath his boots as he strides towards me.

Shit, shit, shit.

I discreetly slide the knife from my holster and hide it behind my back instead.

Draven continues advancing on me.

My heart slams against my ribs.

His boots stop right in front of me.

The distinct ringing of steel fills the air as he draws his sword.

I tighten my grip on the knife behind my back. If he tries to execute me right here, I will have to fight him. I know that I won’t win. But I’ll have to try.

Sunlight glints against metal as Draven moves his sword towards my neck.

My fingers tighten on the hilt of my knife.

Cold steel kisses my skin as Draven places the tip of the sword underneath my chin. With a firm push, he tilts my chin up so that I’m forced to meet his gaze.

His golden eyes lock on mine with such intensity that I forget how to breathe.

“You,” he says. “I remember you.”

“No, you don’t,” I blurt out before I even know what I’m saying.

Mabona’s tits. I want to slap myself. What the hell was that? I sounded like a delusional five-year-old who tries to deny that she was found during a game of hide-and-seek.

Something almost like a breath of amusement escapes Draven’s lips. But the smile that follows is all threats. “Yours is a face I’m not likely to forget.”

“Understandable.” I flex my fingers on the knife behind my back. “And now, you’ve… what? Come to take an eye for an eye?”

That lethal smile on his mouth widens, and his eyes glint. With a firm push of his blade, he forces me to tilt my head farther back, exposing my throat completely to him.

“An eye for an eye sounds too fair.” He flashes me a wicked smile. “I’ll be taking the whole head.”

My heart skips a beat. I squeeze the hilt of my knife hard, getting ready to yank it forward and slam it into his leg.

But right before I can begin my desperate and doomed fight, he abruptly removes the sword from my throat, flashes me a threatening smile, and walks away.

I stare after him, dumbfounded. My head spins, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or even more worried.

“Right,” the administrator says, a tad awkwardly, as if he’s not sure what to make of that either. His blue eyes flick to me for a second, and a scowl creases his brows, but then he simply clears his throat and presses on. “My name is Imar, and I am the overseer for this century’s Atonement Trials.”

Everyone who was staring at Draven immediately snaps their gaze to the blond dragon shifter still standing on the grass before us. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. We all dip our chins in a quick bow of acknowledgement and respect.

“The trials will begin tomorrow,” Imar says.

Relief washes through me. That’s great. That means that I can go home and get a good night’s sleep and pack everything that I need to bring before heading off to the Golden Palace.

A knowing smile blows across Imar’s lips as he watches us in silence for a second. Then he adds, “But the registrations will finish tonight.”

Some of the fae around me exchange glances since no one seems to understand what that’s supposed to mean.

The smile on Imar’s lips grows into a full-blown smirk as he spells it out. “You have until sundown to make it inside the iron walls. Anyone not inside the walls when the sun sets will not be allowed to compete in the Atonement Trials.”

Deafening silence falls over the grasslands.

We all turn our heads to look at the palace and the iron wall that circles it. The Iceheart monarchs and all the other clan leaders have already made it inside. And so have the rest of the dragons who were guarding their leaders from the sky. I watch as Draven, in his half-shift form, flies the final stretch and disappears through the now open iron gate as well.

Clothes rustle faintly as we glance around at each other.

Because we all know what this means.

The trials haven’t technically started yet, but they have started. The people who make it to the gate first can hold it so that no one else can enter. That way there will be less competition once the trials actually start.

I cast another worried glance at the people around me. I won’t be able to fight my way through the gate. Which means that I must make it there first.

Imar flashes us another broad grin filled with wicked glee. “Dismissed.”

We all sprint towards the gate.