The Dragon Games

In The Cave

Scalding hot air swept across the floor, waking me. Marcus must have left the blood windows open again. How many times do I have to remind him how hot the burrow gets during summer? 

A moment later, I became aware of something warm dripping onto my toe. No doubt it was the mysterious brown liquid seeping through the ceiling –

Wait. 

I didn't live in the orphanage anymore. I opened my eyes to find myself staring up at the roof of a cave. Mud water dripped down from a stalagmite, hitting my foot. All at once, the previous night rushed back to me: the ritual, the wyvern, the constellation. 

After I guessed the wyvern's true name, it dropped me off at a cave in the mountainside. While the wyvern flew away, doing gods know what, I had collapsed from exhaustion. And the wyvern has returned.

Slowly, I sat up to find two onyx pinned on my face. The wyvern perched at the cave's entrance, its eyes narrow as knives, its shoulders tense and coiled to lunge. 

A low growl tumbled from its throat. It pulled back its lips, revealing a cruel set of jaws. I didn't move, partially paralyzed with fear, partially knowing there was nothing I could do if the wyvern decided to kill me.

The wyvern threw its head to the ceiling and gagged. Tremors ran along its throat until a trout regurgitated from its mouth and splattered across the rock floor. Using the top of its head, the wyvern nudged the trout toward me. 

For a beat, I looked between the dragon and the fish, my brows climbing up my face. Bloody hell, it had brought me breakfast.

I pinched the fish between two fingers, slowly picking it up. The fish was long dead. Its head was torn clean off, and bones peaked out of the bottom half of its body, partially dissolved by the wyvern's stomach acid. 

Not my worst meal, but many years had passed since I'd been this desperate. How binding was saying the wyvern's true name? Was I in the clear forever, or would I be the next regurgitation if I offended the wyvern?

"Cheers," I said, not wanting to find out. I tipped the fish toward the wyvern, and the moment I took a bite, the wyvern's whole posture changed. It sat back on its hind legs, and its eyes softened, becoming round and innocent, like a newborn deer's. 

Their warm amber color had the most absurd effect, drawing you in, making you want to protect the same creature that could kill you in a heartbeat... I chewed faster.

I grimaced against the rotten, slimy taste, waiting for the wyvern to look away so I could spit it out. But, of course, the wyvern watched me like a hawk. I swallowed, then smiled wide to prove I had eaten the whole bite. 

The wyvern cocked its head, studying me. Then it stretched its lips back, revealing its gums in a strange imitation of a smile. The chokehold fear had on me lessened, giving me a little bit of breathing room. Keeping my eyes pinned on the dragon, I picked myself off the floor, rising to my feet. 

Every bone in my body told me to run for the cave opening. I did the opposite.

I drew closer to the wyvern, forcing my legs to move at a steady pace. I half expected the wyvern to lunge, to close its jaw around me with a vicious snap, but it stayed completely still, like a statue in the garden. 

Only its eyes moved, the cat-like slits tracking my every move. Suddenly, I was only a foot away, standing so close we were breathing the same air.

I steeled myself and lifted my hand. It was the ultimate test, what determined whether I would be its rider or its snack. But a foot away from the wyvern, my nerves gave out. I couldn't do it. Thankfully, I didn't have to. The wyvern closed the last distance for me.

I had never understood the reverence Sammy had for Rauuk. He fawned over his dragon, feeding it prime livestock, cleaning its scales till they gleaned, snapping at anyone who dared insult his beloved Rauuk. It's your dragon, I thought many times but never said. Not your son.

But when the wyvern leaned its head against my palm, its warm breath fluttering against my skin, Sammy's actions had never baffled me more. My heart rammed against my chest. I felt as comfortable touching the wyvern as sticking my hand inside a lion's mouth. All I could think of was Elio. What if I was too late? What if he didn't make it out of the woods? What if the wyvern killed him?

And if he did survive, what would he do to me? With every raider dead or missing, no one was left to expose my lie. No one but Elio's father, who had interviewed each raider before sending them to their deaths. 

It was only a matter of time until Elio discovered the truth. And even if I could find some way to reach Elio first and spin the story in my favor, what would it matter? Elio made clear his first priority was revenge.

I forced the thoughts out of my head. One problem at a time. I had to get out of this arena first. 

"Rainfall," I said slowly, testing out the name. "Can I call you that?"

The wyvern swung its head away, trotting toward the cave's entrance. It didn't bite my head off, which is probably the closest thing to a 'yes' I'll get from a dragon.

I joined Rainfall at a safe distance from the ledge. The cave perched on a mountainside, hundreds of feet in the air. The height gave a full view of the valley ahead, of the rolling green mountains extending as far as the eyes could see. 

The burning sun rose over one of the mountain's shoulders, painting the river at the base of the valley a glimmering silver.

Cassian called it the River of Tears. While the winners fly into the amphitheater, to be received by massive crowds from all around the kingdom, the pledges who failed to bond with a dragon must use the river as their guide out, making the long trek on foot. I've overheard many pledges call it a fate worse than death, but they'd have to make peace with it soon. 

Today was the final day of Blood Fest.