Page 143 of The Queens and the Kings
“Well,” she murmured, “you understand far more than I expected. Are you as rude as him?” She jerked her chin over her shoulder. “Because he’s a real bastid sometimes.”
She judged the next glare to be one of reproach, and ignored it.
“The clasp is different, Den.” She trailed her fingers along the edge of it, running her finger across a whittled edge. “Similar, but stronger. It’s a different metal. Which makes sense. I suppose the other clasp was supposed to dissolve in case the ship went down, though I can’t imagine why the mainland would care to save you.” She hastily added, “I would, of course. You have great value. But would they feel the same?”
An irritated snort preceded the wyvern equivalent of an eye roll. A hole in the metal caught her attention. Far to the right, she discovered a key hole along the edge that would make it difficult to open.
“Very inconvenient spot.”
Denerfen landed on her forearm, bent over, and propped his head on the dirt to execute a headstand. It was comical the way he somersaulted onto his back with a squawk.
“Yes, Den. There must be a key.”
Straightening, she turned to find the freed wyvern not far behind, likely listening to every word. Urgency and irritation heightened his restless gaze.
“Presumably,” she drawled, “you want me to set all of you free?”
His nostrils flared. The wyvern leader, as she began to think of him, might have nudged her again, but she dodged him with an arm held out in warning. One of these times, he’d knock her flat on her back and break something.
“Calm down, presumed King. Are all of you under lock and key?”
The gentle rustle of wings, rimming along the arena edge, sounded like confirmation. Britt dragged a hand through her tangled hair.
“But . . . how?”
The wyvern leader’s eyes slotted. She rolled her own. “Fine, Mr. Judgment. It’s pretty simple. I need to find the keys. That’s only one step in the plan, which inevitably involves setting you free, next. First, do you know where the keys are?”
His tail pointed off to the side. She had to climb on top of a rock, Denerfen hovering above her, to see where he gestured. In the distance was another cave-like feature with a wooden structure in front. Similar to a shed, it had a wide window that allowed whoever stood inside to speak to someone outside or to pass things through to them.
“Den, go look?”
He zipped off with an eager cry. Britt spun, grateful that the focused stares of all nineteen wyverns made sense. If they wanted her to set them free, they wouldn’t kill her. Yet. She had only to maintain her usefulness.
No small task.
Curiosity propelled her gaze around the pen, which lookedverydifferent from the ground. Locating the crevice where she’d snuck through last time eased the knot in her chest. Problematically, it was across the arena on the other side. She’d have to pass at least ten wyverns in order to dart away.
Possible, but notprobable.
Greater curiosity sparked her interest, however. Something big—no, colossal—was happening. She’d been inexorably involved.
Denerfen’s bright eyes returned.
“You found the keys?”
Wings fluttering, he butted his head against her jaw in confirmation. Before she could form a reply, somethingslammed into her from behind. Arms wheeling, she stumbled forward, nearly tripped over a handful of rocks, and skidded on her knees.
Scowling, she shoved off the ground, whirled around, pointed a finger at the looming wyvern, and shouted, “If you want me to set you free, stop pushing me! If you touch me one more time, I will sit on the ground and scream until a Keeper finds me. Got it?”
The wyvern lowered his head along the floor, eyes slashes set in a dusty, exhausted face. Whatever he wanted, there was clearly a time crunch. Before the Keepers arrived, perhaps? He appeared equally as testy after flying for who-knew-how-long. A low growl built at the back of his throat, rumbling into a hiss. She snarled back, teeth bared.
The wyvern recoiled. Astonishment rippled through his savage eyes. Britt brushed her skirt off, though it was long beyond saving.
“Now that’s settled,” she sent him a final silky glare of warning, “let’s come to an understanding. You want me to find the keys, unlock all of you, and set you free?”
The wyvern rumbled. She waited for the voice in her head, but it didn’t come. Exasperated, she motioned to the sky. “I can’t just . . . let you go! There are huge political ramifications. If the mainland found out that I had set you free, they might retaliate on my island.”
The wyvern moved so close that his proximity unnerved Denerfen. She resisted the urge to plant a hand on the wyvern’s gigantic face and shove it away. The wyvern looked to Denerfen, then back to her.
