Page 73 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
How does he get so many tankards? Ah, he bribes the barkeep and his mates. But this isn’t important.
Further back. Back to Sky’s Edge.
Training sessions blur together, then we’re in the hall, ready to come to Cinderhold.
—… your mediocrity is what drives you to surround yourself with losers.Silas tells Nate.Rhea is just like you and can’t hit a target either.
—How did you know?I ask now.
The images cascade through my mind like a waterfall of secrets. A letter, heavy parchment and Lord Basil Pyrewing’s elaborate seal. Silas hunched over it in his quarters, smirking as he reads.
I thought you’d find this amusing, son. The official reports from High Prime Stormsong to Commander Voltguard detail that Wyndward girl’s pathetic performance. Can’t even master basic techniques like Wind Spear. Embarrassing. My cousin at court secured these for me. I doubt she’s the one.
One of the officers yanks my arm, breaking the connection. Silas winces, a hand to his temple as he glares at me with suspicion. I’m disoriented, baffled by the information, especially the last line.I doubt she’s the one.What could it mean?
I scan the crowd anxiously. The High Prime’s and the Commander’s reports were breached. That’s how Silas knew. I search for their familiar forms. Neither appears. No sign of the King either, despite Cragmere’s promises. My heart sinks with each sweep of the courtyard. Have they abandoned me?
The officers march me toward a wooden platform that wasn’t here yesterday—hastily constructed overnight, its rawedges still oozing sap. The smell of fresh-cut pine mingles with the battle stench.
A man in black robes sits at the platform’s highest point, wearing a ridiculous powdered wig that makes him look like a pompous cockatoo. The judge, I suppose. Cragmere climbs the steps and takes his place beside the robbed figure, his thin lips curled into a triumphant sneer that makes my stomach turn. He leans down, whispering something that makes the judge glance sharply in my direction. Fair trial my ass.
The officers deposit me on the platform and retreat, leaving me standing alone. No table, no chair, no advocate. Just me, exposed to everyone’s scrutiny like an animal at auction.
“This is how Embernia delivers justice?” I call out, my voice carrying across the courtyard. “No advocate? This?” I gesture to the rudimentary stage, then glare at Cragmere. “What’s the hurry?”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I spot Nate’s scowl deepening, Adelaide’s fingers curling into fists despite her injury. Phoebe frantically scribbles in her little book, her eyes darting between me and the judge. They’re here for me, but their presence only highlights my isolation on this stage.
“This isn’t justice. This is theater,” I call.
Yes, a performance orchestrated by Cragmere to satisfy whatever vendetta drives him. I straighten my spine and lift my chin. If they want a spectacle, I’ll give them one they won’t forget.
Thethump, thumpof wings cuts through the dawn-light. Heads turn upward, faces paling as Zephyros appears, his scales seeming to catch on fire in the early morning sun. His wings send a huge ripple of air through the courtyard, making everyone shift nervously, and I’m sure that if they weren’t all Sky Order members, they would be scattering like ants.
He perches on the fort’s wall, his massive weight causing huge stones to break and fall to the ground with a thunderous crash. The judge jumps to his feet, wig askew, as Cragmere clutches the table as if to stop himself from fleeing.
“Control your beast!” he shrieks at me.
I laugh, the sound wild even to my own ears. “He’s not mine. He chose me. There’s a difference.”
Zephyros opens his massive jaws and roars, the sound vibrating through my bones. Then he creates a huge vortex that spirals upward, over the crowd. The wind picks up debris, whipping cloaks and hair into frenzied dances.
It seems he’s of the same mind as me. He’ll also give them the show they want. Without thinking of the consequences, I raise my hands and add my power to my dragon’s. The vortex doubles in size, a massive thing that could take everyone and shoot them into the sky if we lowered it but a few feet.
“Stop this at once!” the judge screams, but his words are torn away by the wind.
I meet Zephyros’s eyes across the distance. We hold the power of life and death in our combined abilities. We could end this farce right now as everyone’s dragons lie elsewhere, and no one can challenge us. What a poor plan Cragmere orchestrated.
—Should we?Zephyros’s voice purrs in my mind, hungry and eager.
I sweep my gaze across the terrified faces—not just Cragmere and the judge, but Phoebe, Adelaide, Nate. The injured riders who survived yesterday’s battle. And there, at the courtyard entrance, finally appearing… Vaylen, his face a mask of shock and something darker, something that might be disappointment.
The vortex wavers as my concentration breaks. My power is a choice, always a choice.
—No. This isn’t really what I want.
Zephyros sneers, his mental touch scraping against my consciousness like sandpaper on a wound.—Whatever you say,he projects, each word dripping with disdain.But I’m not going anywhere. And the moment anyone so much as breathes the wordexecutionagain, I will spear them through and take you away. No matter what you say.
His gaze burns with ancient rage, promising violence with casual certainty. The crowd below us shifts nervously, feeling the predatory intent radiating from him even without hearing his thoughts.
