Page 11 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

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 powerfulspecies 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.

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