Rise of a Fallen Man (A Look in the Mirror #2)

Chapter 20

Ari

F ire shot from underground. It leaped onto Salas’s hands, engulfing them in flames.

“You’re burning!” I screamed and tossed the train of my dress over his hands, trying to beat the fire off his body. But the flames didn’t die. They grew even stronger, bursting through the fabric and spiraling around his sword.

“Don’t be afraid, Princess,” he said in a strangled but eerily calm voice. “Let me fear for you.”

Heat radiated from his hands, blowing back my hair. Terror shook me from head to toe. I couldn’t let him burn alive, but he wouldn’t let me fight it.

“Stand back,” he ordered, then dropped his sword and thrust his hands forward.

Transparent spirals of reflection ran up his arms. Fire surged through them like blood coursed through vessels or water filled a dry riverbed after a storm.

Flames surged up from his hands in a continuous stream that grew wider, flowing upwards like a powerful fountain of light and heat.

The dragon stumbled in the air, as if hitting a wall. His blast of blue flame hit sideways, scorching the rocks and setting the prop shrubs aflame. His third wing tilted sharply. His tail whipped through the air, hitting a rock. He lurched toward the ground, losing the lift. Salas leaped up and grabbed the beast’s tail, yanking it down. The dragon’s wings faltered, and he hit the ground.

Clouds of sand, fire, and smoke rose in the air as the creature rolled on the arena. Salas jumped on top of him, crumbling his third wing under him.

Lerrel and the gladiators rushed to his aid. Two of the men trapped the remaining two wings. They folded them to the body of the dragon. Then, the games master helped them tie the dragon with a barely visible shimmering cord.

The gladiators tried to catch the dragon’s head next with the games master holding out a muzzle, but Salas ran back to me.

“Ari. Are you all right?”

I hugged him, pressing my cheek to his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and I kissed his bicep. His skin was slick with sweat and smeared with soot.

His muscles tensed, hard like rock. Reflection ran through his body under my touch. Only instead of the usual undulating wave or a ripple, it crackled like lightning in rugged, broken lines.

“Calm, my darling,” I whispered, stroking his back. “Whatever it is you did, however you did it, Salas, you won. It’s over. You saved us.”

A shudder rocked his body. He tightened his arms around me, holding me closer.

“You’re safe,” he echoed.

“I am,” I assured him.

The dragon’s claws left deep scratches around my shoulders, both in the front and on the back. They burned, dripping with blood. But I was alive. I was in his arms, and it felt good.

“I’m fine.”

His shoulders dropped with a breath of relief. I slid my palms up his arm. It was warm, but not hot and not burned.

“How did you do it, Salas? You shot fire from your arms. I saw it with my own eyes.”

He kissed my hair.

“No fire. Just an illusion, Princess. ‘Smoke and mirrors,’ like they say.”

The threat from the sky was gone. The ground, however, was still aflame with fire bursting all around us. The royal guards gathered on the edge of the arena, but they couldn’t get to us.

“Stop the fire!” They yelled to the games master.

“Why are the worms still active?” Salas asked the games master who ran to us.

She looked confused. “I-I don’t know.”

I’d never seen the games master so unsure about anything. Usually, she had an answer for everything. Real or evasive, but she always had a reply.

“I’ll figure it out,” she added, much more confidently.

Noil, her husband, rushed to me. “Let me take you to the guards, Your Highness. I know the safe path.”

“I’ll take her.” Not releasing me from his arms, Salas led me through the fire to the edge of the arena where the guards grabbed me.

“Wait.” I turned to him as they tried to lead me away. “Thank you...”

It felt so inadequate, but what else could I say with all of them watching us? I couldn’t even say his real name out loud here, where they could hear us.

“It was my pleasure, Princess.” He gave me a small, polite bow. “She’s hurt,” he told the guard. “She needs help, quickly.”

“Will you be alright?” I asked.

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll manage. I always do.”

“I’ll send the royal healing witch to check on you.”

He shook his head.

“You need her more than I do. Just...” He hesitated.

“You can ask for anything from me,” I assured him.

“Find a way to let me know how you’re doing. Please. Let me know how you’re healing, Princess.”

I held on to his hand for as long as I could. But he let go. He always let me go. And I had no way to hold on to him, either.

“Ari!” Mother rushed to me from the entrance to the arena. “Oh, Goddess, you’re bleeding. Get the healing witch here at once,” she ordered to the closest guard. “Let’s get you back to the palace, my child.”

With the dragon recaptured and the fire now contained only to the arena, many people lingered in the vicinity. Some of those who’d run away were now returning in hopes of more entertainment.

“How is Father? Where is Leafar?” I asked as the guards and my mother led me to the carriage waiting for us just outside of the arena.

“I sent the prince to the palace with the king. Both are safe.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Someone threw a shawl over my bleeding shoulders. A guard helped me into the carriage, along with Mother.

“Oh gods, what a mess,” she lamented.

The arena burned behind us. A thick cloud of smoke rose over the poles with burning banners, the pictures of Salas on them smoking and scorched.

With the shock and terror receding, the wounds on my shoulders hurt badly now.

What would’ve happened to me if it weren’t for Salas? How did he conjure the fire that saved us?

“Just an illusion, Princess,” he’d said.

But I’d felt the blast of heat on my face as the fire shot up his arms. Yet there was not a single burn on his skin afterwards.

Was it a miracle? It must be.