Page 29 of The Fire Dragon's Mate
I drew sword and dagger, taking a stance to fight, only to watch people gasp and skitter away. These were laborers, not sailors or soldiers. Their loyalty was to their jobs, not the security of the docks.
Bromley must’ve realized the same thing, because he held his weapons at the ready but walked through the parting crowd easily enough. The rest of us hurried to follow him.
An explosion made me duck yet again, but this time when I looked back, I saw that our ship was burning. Why? Had the other ship fired on us and hit our gunpowder storage? But we hadn’t been burning any torches that could’ve lit something?
“Declan!” Phineas yelled as he grabbed my elbow. “Quit staring and run!”
“What happened?”
“A distraction.”
I glanced back as we rounded the first building into town to see a flurry of activity as those laborers who’d let us pass now fought to put out the fire. With the ships, dock, crates, and nearby buildings all constructed of wood, a fire here could spread fast and devastate the area. Even those on the other ship might have to choose between saving their ship and pursuing us.
“Brilliant,” I muttered and trotted after my peers.
By the position of the sun, I thought it might be late afternoon, but the crowds were thinner here than in Besia at this time of day. The people seemed depressed, subdued, and spoke quietly to each other. Was this normal in Xanthous? I would’ve felt more comfortable if they were loud, if the sellers called out their wares and people gossiped at the fountain. Though no one approached us, this near-silence was unnerving.
Phineas led us through the streets, following the directions Gilda had provided for the palace, the most likely place the king might display his captured dragon. As the buildings changed to stone and became grander and gilded, my anxiety built to know we were getting close.
And then, there he was.
They had Cighyss lying in a metal cage in the center of the courtyard outside the palace. Several people milled about, whispering and staring, while a pair of guardsmen in full regalia stood at his head and feet. Shiny and pressed in armor and silks, they held spears with swords at their sides and stared straight ahead.
I wanted to kill them immediately.
But then I watched as a young woman holding a bucket and ladle approached the guardsman at Cighyss’s head. I couldn’t hear what she said, but by the way she dipped the ladle andnodded at Cighyss, I wondered if she was asking for permission to let him drink.
Violently, the guard shoved her away. She fell back, the bucket overturning all over her, and ladle cracking on the cobblestones. Another woman raced forward to help the first one back to her feet.
I grabbed Hagen’s crossbow from his hand and shot the guardsman in his throat. Another arrow flew out and hit the other guardsman in his eye. I was already running toward Cighyss before either man fell, the small crowd scattering.
“Declan?”
His voice was scratchy, eyes bloodshot, and his once warm brown skin was red and peeling. There was no shine to his scaled half and his wings…
“Oh gods, Cighyss.”
They’d cut off his wings, leaving only stumps behind.
I shoved my hands between the bars of his cage, wanting to touch him and afraid to hurt him. He clasped my hand and kissed the palm as he stared up at me with those beautiful golden-brown eyes of his.
Warfield and Fatima were battering at the foot of the cage where it looked like there might’ve been a door once. It was crudely welded as though they’d shoved Cighyss in and sealed the door behind him. Panic surged inside me, and I used the crossbow I still clutched to batter at a seam, desperate to get my dragon free.
“We don’t have time for that,” Phineas said above me.
Anger spiked inside me, and I stood to shove at him. “How dare you say?—”
He grabbed my shirtfront and clapped a hand over my mouth. “He can’t free himself, and I don’t know about you, but I didn’t bring a blacksmith with?—”
“It’s not bolted down.”
We both looked to Hagen as he set the foot of the cage back onto the stones. It wasn’t bolted. It wasn’t bolted down! Phineas and I shoved away from each other and grasped various points of the cage as the others ringed around it and did the same.
I had to look down at Cighyss staring up at me to reassure myself because this felt far too similar to carrying a coffin. Cighyss caressed my fingers before doing the same to everyone he could reach. Eglantine and Fatima walked behind us, their attention fully on our surroundings, weapons at the ready. Warfield walked ahead of us, guiding us back through town.
Though weak and sickly, our dragon still weighed more than a man his size should, so I was grateful when Warfield steered us toward a two-wheeled cart. It might make more noise down the cobblestone streets, but it would let us be faster as we ran for the docks even with no horse to pull it. I stayed beside Cighyss while others held the shafts on either side of the cart and started pulling.
I could see him wincing as the cart and cage jostled from the cobblestones, a mixture of rage and grief making it hard for me to breathe. I could feel my tears falling and swiped them away.
