Dragon Trial: Dragon Guard Series book 1 Page 5

  “It’s a parade,” Helgi whispered.

  She was right. We were smack bang in the middle of some kind of parade.

  The pen began to move, and a quick survey showed that it was perched on a wheeled platform. I laced my fingers through the thick mesh to stop myself from falling. Helgi bumped into me, her eyes wide as they stared outward at the city streets. Dragon Bloods of all shapes and sizes, all golden-haired and blue-eyed, followed along waving scarves and flags, their faces wreathed in smiles. I wasn’t dumb enough to think they were happy to see us. This was something else, but we were definitely part of it. The pen moved smoothly, propelled by unseen forces.

  The mercs were to my left, Dunstan visible to our right, and wait, there were the twins stuck in between a couple of female Skins with thick, sloping brows and slanted Dreki eyes. Where was the redhead? A cheer went up as we rolled into a wide circular space, neat and clean, with tall, glistening buildings rising on either side. The crowd here must have been a thousand strong. They waved flags painted with the Draco symbol of interlocked triangles. Their perfect faces and perfect smiles made my heart ache with anger, and then I saw him, the leader of this empire—Gustov Imperial, the man who’d slain the dragon queen, who’d led the Dragon Bloods to freedom from the tyranny of the Dreki. He stood tall and proud, his golden hair streaked with silver, his pale blue eyes alight with triumph as he looked down upon us from his podium suspended in the sky by a metal balloon. It was horrifying and fascinating and terrible, because if they could do this, what hope was there for us Skins trapped in a pen with collar bombs pressed to our throats.

  The roar of the crowd was almost deafening, and then Gustov raised a hand and silence fell on the world like a heavy blanket.

  “Citizens of Draco. Today is a glorious day. Today is the first step in freeing our noble men and women from the trial of a battle they have fought for much too long. Today is the first step in replacing our dignified soldiers with the traitors who turned their back on the cause a long time ago. Too long have the Skins left the burden of maintaining our lands’ freedom on our shoulders. Too long have they reaped the benefit of a motherland free of Dreki. It is time they tasted the blood and ash of the front lines. It is time they paid for their freedom in blood.”

  A roar went up.

  “We have reaped our first crop from the Outlands, and today we begin the process of separating the wheat from the chaff.” The sky grew dark as the sun was blocked out. It was another metal balloon, but this one hovered over us. A hatch opened and thick rods emerged, slicing down until they almost touched the top of the pen. Skins scattered to get away from the probes. Dunstan pressed himself to the bars beside me, his chest rising and falling erratically, and then the probes sprouted claws that latched onto the top of the pen.

  “Only the worthy will return,” Gustov said as the pen began to rumble and rise into the air.

  Below us, the city opened up like a vibrant flower. Tall glass buildings rose up to greet us, and vehicles of all shapes and sizes wound up and down slender gray roads. Gustov’s face stared out over the city from magic boards that captured his every move and magnified it a thousand times for all in the city to see. And people, so many tiny little people crawled about like ants. This was the Dragon Blood stronghold—metropolis of technology and wealth—and they’d brought us into it only to fly us out? Where were they taking us? Surely not to the front lines due north? The Dreki and Draco armies had set up home there in a decade-long stalemate that each side ached to break. Were they trying to swell their numbers by forcing us to fight alongside them? No. Gustov had said they wanted to replace the nobles with Skins. My stomach turned. Were we the first batch of many?

  I was so confused.

  “Anya, look.” Helgi yanked on my elbow.

  We passed over the walls that hugged Draco City, over the mounted guns and sentries and into the ruins of the world beyond. Rivers and forests crawled over land that had once been dominated by urban life. As the balloon carried us forward, another wall came into view, gray and imposing. A distant memory teased my mind. A story told to a young child in the light of a roaring fire—a tale about a place so damaged that the Dreki had been forced to wall it off and forget about it. My blood went cold. This couldn’t be that place, surely? I didn’t want to know what lay beyond that wall. Was that where we were headed?

  No. We veered away alongside the city walls until a viaduct came into view. A snake made of stone that led to a vast arena at the center of which sat a dark abyss.

  The balloon began its descent, and Big Red was suddenly at my side. He laced his fingers through the mesh beside mine as he stared down at the amphitheater. His jaw was tight and his nostrils flared as if tasting the air.

  “What is it? Do you know what this place is?”

  He slid a glance my way. “No, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

  The pen jolted as it lost altitude, and then we were hurtling toward a smaller enclosure connected to the arena. This whole area was closed off to the air, but we were aiming for a spot just outside of it.

  The claws suddenly released the pen, and the cage began to fall. Screams ripped the air. This was going to hurt. “Helgi, brace yourself in a crouch.”

  She didn’t question, just acted. I pressed my lips together and prepared myself for the collision. We slammed into the ground so hard that the impact sent a lance of pain through my shins and knees. Sharp cries of agony were followed by angry sobs. How many fractures had just occurred? If Helgi and I hadn’t fallen into position, we’d have been one of the injured.

  The balloon floated down and kissed the ground behind us. A door opened and several Dragon Bloods climbed out. They were dressed in royal blue and crimson, the uniform of the Vorn—Draco’s defense against the Dreki—and heading them up was the golden-haired guy who’d captured us in the Outlands.

  My fists clenched at the sight of his smug face.

  The Bloods lined up with the barrels of their guns trained on us.

  “In a moment, the pen will open,” golden boy said. “When it does, you will file out and line up facing the wall to the left.”

  The wall in question had a huge door in it—reinforced steel, no doubt—which meant once we were in, there would be no getting back out that way. The clank of metal was followed by a surge of bodies as Skins scrambled to escape the pen.

  The mercs strode by us, and Bran locked eyes with me for a moment. He lifted his chin in silent communication. It was a be ready gesture—optimistic under the circumstances. Luckily optimism was my middle name, so I gave him a nod and followed the bodies out onto the dusty ground. Dunstan and the twins stood to my left, eyes fixed on the wall as if contemplating its monolith existence.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Big Red said. “Follow the instructions and you may yet live.”

  “Thanks for the tip, but if I get a chance to run, I’m out of here.”

  “Look around. There is nowhere to run.”

  Barren land at our backs, wall and door at our front, and Dragon Bloods with guns to our left, not to mention the blow-your-head-off collars. He was right. Escape potential was close to zero.

  The Dragon Bloods nudged us forward. “Line up. Over there. Now.”

  My teeth ached from gritting them. Only one person gave me orders and got away with it, and he was in the Outlands, probably wondering what the fuck had become of his daughter. I did as instructed because they had the upper hand for now. Skins weren’t always stronger than Bloods, but what some of us lacked in physical prowess we made up for in sheer crazy. The mercs were a prime example. Crazy was a prerequisite for that breed, and the glint in their eyes told me they were preparing for attack if the opportunity presented itself. Dammit, they probably weren’t even thinking logically right now, acting on fight or flight instinct—the Dreki part that was fueled by aggression. There was no way to warn them, though, to tell them to hold fire on making any desperate moves.

  The Bloods stepped back as the powerful
ly built, golden-haired guy strode over to us. He stood a meter in front of us, hands clasped behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart.

  “Welcome to the arena. My name is Commander Royce of the Draco Vorn. You’re here because you’re worthless scum. Shit on the bottom of my shoe. The chewed gum stuck to the bottom of a desk. You’re nothing, Skins. Do you understand?”

  My fist begged to break his smug face, but common sense and self-preservation had me holding my peace. Bran, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He turned his head to the side, hawked, and spat on the ground.

  Royce’s lips curled in a sadistic smile, and then Bran made a strange gurgling sound and began to convulse. His hands clawed at the collar, and his eyelids began to twitch.

  “Stop! Stop it!” Bran’s companion shouted.

  Bran fell to his knees, gasping, his fingers still curled around the collar at his neck, shoulders heaving as he struggled to regain his composure after the attack.

  Royce cocked his head. “Anyone else want to express their derision?”

  Silence.

  “Good. So let’s continue. At this moment, you are scum, but you have the opportunity to be more than scum. You have the opportunity to serve a purpose. You have the chance to serve your motherland by fighting the Dreki. You have been chosen, and there is no going back. In a moment, you will walk through those doors, and you will be tested. If you survive, if you pass the tests, you will be conscripted into the Vorn. Your lives will finally have meaning. And if you die, then you’ll have the satisfaction of having entertained your betters while doing so.”

  “You can’t do this.” Damn. Was that me speaking?

  Royce fixed his eerie blue eyes on me.

  Okay, so it was me, but damn, it needed to be said because we were all thinking it. “The Outlands are free territory. You can’t just kidnap us and force us into your army.”

  His smile widened. “And who is going to stop us?” His expression hardened. “There is a war going on, and it’s about time you Skins played your part. We liberated you, and you betrayed us.”

  “Betrayed you? You tried to enslave us.”

  “We tried to give your lives direction and meaning, and you spat in our faces. You rose up against your betters, your saviors, and you abandoned the cause. Well, it’s time for you to make amends. It’s time you joined the fight. You are the first, but you will not be the last. It’s time the Skins were placed on the front lines, but for that we want only the best.”

  “What’s beyond the wall? What is this arena?” Dunstan asked.

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Only the worthy will emerge, so you better hope to hell you have what it takes to make it. When the door opens, you have thirty seconds to go through before your head explodes.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Good luck.”

  He turned away and strode toward the balloon with his men. The doors closed behind them and then the machine rose silently into the air. Helgi glanced at me, her lips tight, and she strode forward, parking her arse close to the doors. Bran looked over his shoulder, out at the vast beyond, at possible freedom.

  “You won’t make it,” Big Red said.

  Bran clenched his jaw, his lips twisting in frustration.

  I joined Helgi at the doors. I liked my head firmly on my shoulders, and where there was life, there was hope. Slowly, as if waking from a nightmare, the others leapt into action, pushing and shoving to get close to the metal entrance.

  And then, with a roar, the huge metal doors began to trundle open.

  Chapter Four

  The chamber beyond was circular. Smooth steel with no other visible exit. Long slits ran along the domed ceiling. Vents of some kind? The doors closed behind us, trapping us in darkness. Helgi grabbed my hand as bodies began jostling against each other in panic. Someone smashed into me, slamming me into a wall. No. Not a wall. A body, taut and strong.

  And then the lights came on, sickly green, and Big Red was looking down at me impassively—a pillar of calm in a sea of chaotic emotion so tangible it was like needles pricking my skin. The panic gripping my lungs eased off a fraction. If he could be calm, then it couldn’t be so bad, right?

  And then a hiss filled the air, and for a moment, I imagined the Bloods had released a multitude of snakes into the chamber, but then an acrid stench stung my nostrils and clawed at the back of my throat. For a moment, there was no clean air, no oxygen. My pulse echoed in my ears. Helgi’s grip on my fingers slipped away, and the world began to slide. Big Red lurched toward me and steel wrapped itself around my waist, unforgiving and secure as I fell into eternal night.

  * * *

  The heat of a body pressed against mine, the band of arms around me, and the scent of a storm, sharp and heady, assaulted my senses, bringing the world sharply into focus. Bright amber eyes flecked with gold held me captive.

  Big Red? I was on the ground wrapped in Big Red’s arms, practically straddling him. How the heck? Oh, shit. The chamber. The gas. He’d caught me as I’d fallen and they must have thrown us in here in a heap.

  He scanned my face for a long moment. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” My voice came out unsure and raspy—obviously the effects of the gas.

  He did that slow blink thing again and my pulse thudded hard in my throat. I scrambled off him, trying not to think about all the places our bodies made contact. Intimacy was always on my terms and this felt sneaky, forcing me to acknowledge the ridges of muscle on his abdomen where my palm pressed to him as I pushed up, and the thickness of his thighs between mine as I extricated myself. My pulse leapt in excitement like an eager puppy. It had been too long since I’d lain with a man. Finally free, I turned my attention to our surroundings. The fuckers had shoved us in a large cage. It had to be at least twelve-by-nine.

  Big Red stood and then held out a hand to me. He was being chivalrous, of course, but there were no damsels here.

  “I’m good, thanks.” I stood fluidly and surveyed the room.

  It was pretty huge and our cage was one of nine. There were four on our side of the room and five opposite. The Bloods had provided mattresses for us to sleep on and a large bucket to use as a toilet. How fucking hospitable.

  Around us, the other Skins lay silent and unconscious. It looked like Red and I were the only ones standing. “How long have you been awake?”

  Big Red shrugged. “A few minutes before you came around.”

  Helgi was here in the same cage as us and so was Bran and one of the twins. Where was the other twin? Ah, in the cage opposite us, and was that one of the other mercs lying next to him? Dunstan was on his side up against the bars of the opposite cell too. What the heck was going on here? I grabbed the bars, testing their strength.

  “Don’t bother, that’s Obrilian steel. Only the best for us Skins,” Red drawled.

  Damn him, how could he be so blasé about this? Obrilian was a combination of several metals, and once it was forged, it was unbreakable. I doubted even dragon fire could soften it, which was why many of the Bloods favored it. We were screwed.

  Okay, think, Anya.

  The Skins in the other cells were a mixed bunch just like us. There’d been almost fifty in the pen when the balloon had picked us up, and now there were only forty of us split into groups of four or five. Each cell had a plaque bolted to it, sticking out so those inside and out could read it. We were all numbered from one to nine. Did the numbers mean anything specific? Had they split us into these groups for a particular reason? And where the heck were the ten missing Skins? Too many questions and not enough information to formulate any kind of viable theory. The lack of control made my skin itch.

  “This can’t be happening.” I leaned back against the bars. “I’m supposed to be packing up and leaving for the Furtherlands, not trapped in a cage in Draco City.”

  His gaze grew speculative. “The Furtherlands? Why would you go there?” His voice was honey, thick and smooth. It soothed the frazzled edges of my nerves.

  My pulse, which
had been fluttering like a trapped rabbit since waking, slowed down. “Because my father seems to think we’d be able to make a home there.”

  He canted his head, sweeping his gaze over my face. “And what do you think?”

  My thoughts weren’t for sharing with strangers, but my lips seemed to have other ideas. “I think he’s crazy, but he’s also my dad, and he’s never been wrong before, so I’m willing to play. As long as I get my workshop, I’m golden.” Why the fuck was I telling him this shit?

  “Workshop?”

  “Yeah, I make stuff. Fix stuff.” And there it was again, the urge to talk. “Pretty handy with a wrench.”

  I pressed my lips together. Damn, who knew nerves could make a motor mouth out of me? I blew out a breath and then inhaled to ground myself. Chit-chat wasn’t going to get us anywhere. It was a bloody waste of time.

  His lips quirked in amusement. “Knowledge of machinery and tech is rare in the Outlands. Who trained you?”

  “No one. I just kinda picked stuff up.” I ran my gaze over the room, past the other cages, looking for anything that we could use to get out of here.

  “And you hope to take this knowledge into Dreki territory?” Red asked.

  “It’s not like I can leave it behind.”

  “No. No, it isn’t.”

  He was watching with that speculative gleam in his eyes again, and gooseflesh pricked my skin as the penny dropped. Dreki were manipulators of the arcane. Technology was alien to them, just as the arcane was alien to the Bloods. What did that mean for a tech-savvy Skin in Dreki territory?

  “Dreki prize technological knowledge,” he said, with a contemplative smile.

  “Well, we’ll just have to stay on the outskirts of the Furtherlands and off their radar.”

  He arched a brow. “Optimistic, considering you have no idea what you’ll be walking into.”

  He was echoing my fears perfectly, but I’d put my trust in Dad and he’d never steered me wrong. “Skins have been leaving for the Furtherlands for a while to make a home for themselves.”