As soon as the others flew out of sight, I let my fingers start sparking. I couldn't really stop it, not for more than a few seconds. Dangerous powers I didn't want, a dragon who hated me, and an island full of people who would love to hand me over to the enforcers if they knew what I was—I wouldn't have wished my situation on anyone.
After about ten minutes of walking, the dining pavilion still hadn't come into view. I stopped and sat down under a bluewood tree to try and calm down before I started walking again. Luckily, everyone was at breakfast, or they would've seen me sparking. Why couldn't I smother my hands? Normal elent magic wasn't even like this. They needed wands to summon anything substantial. Heh, Mother had said I would be a lot more powerful than a normal elent. How wonderful.
As much as I tried to stop them, images of my own death flashed through my imagination—a procession of enforcers leading me onto a stage in the town square where a death elent, who in this nightmare was Sarafin, would end my life.
I heard a dragon's heavy footsteps padding up behind me, bolted to my feet, and spun to face it with my sparking fists held behind my back. The dragon was Sarafin's. He and his dragon both peered down at me.
"You're a paltor, aren't you?" Sarafin asked.
I jerked back and took off running. There was no time to transform and fly off, but even if there had been, I realized that the alabri I'd brought with me was drained.
"Wait," Sarafin shouted.
I ran faster, but I didn't know the island well enough to have a good destination in mind.
The ground in front of me erupted in flames from above, and I stopped so quickly that I face-planted right before running into them. Claws pricked my back, and a heavy weight held me still.
I heard Sarafin jump to the ground and come over to me. The claws moved, and he dragged me to my feet. My hands were still sparking, but I tried to keep them from getting too hot so I wouldn't burn Sarafin. If I hurt him, he probably wouldn't wait for a public execution to take care of me.
"Don't try anything foolish." Taking out his wand, he led me back to his dragon and into the saddle before climbing up behind me. We took off a second later.
As we flew across the island, a thousand questions ran across my mind about how I could escape and where I would go if I did. There was no way Leera could know to come and help me, even if she was willing to do it. I cursed my absentmindedness for not doing the Tayna ritual needed to charge my alabri before I'd set out this morning.
All too soon, the director's office building came into view on the island's dragon-head-shaped peninsula. We landed just outside the marble-columned building, and I searched desperately for some route of escape. Sarafin didn't let go of my wrists for a second, but even if he had, he could still kill me at a distance with his wand. My heart pounded at the thought. I knew that the moment I saw the slightest chance at freedom, I had to take it. Better to die trying to escape than in front of a crowd of jeering onlookers.
Sarafin led me up to the office's double doors, keeping one hand on my wrists when he opened them. We went in, and his dragon stayed outside. The open entry hall headed in two directions—up a staircase and down a smaller hall. Sarafin headed for the smaller hall, and I decided that now was my last chance to escape. He had to think I wouldn't dare to try, so I had the element of surprise. Or so I hoped.
I let fear heat my wrists to boiling. Sarafin let go with a shout, and I ran for the stairs. I reached the second-floor landing and searched desperately for somewhere to hide. Sarafin was a second behind me, so I ducked into the first door I saw. I slammed it behind me and locked it.
"Callah," Sarafin shouted, pounding at the door.
Relieved that I had at least some time to find a way out, I turned to inspect the room.
A table full of very important-looking people were staring back at me. I'd managed to stumble into a conference room of sorts. There were half a dozen or so elents, cinems, and talmes sitting at a long, oval table made of marble. A man near the far end of the table caught my eye. He was the elent from the alley—the one who'd been selling mind-jinking collars. What kind of meeting was this?
'I believe our guest has arrived early." A pale cinem woman at the head of the table stood as she spoke, smoothing out a wrinkle in her sky-blue silk dress. White-blond curls fell to her waist, and she held herself like someone in charge.
"You were expecting me?" I furtively looked around for another escape route.
The cinem woman nodded. "Not in this precise manner or at this specific time, but I did expect your arrival to occur sometime today."
That wasn't good. How could she have known I was a paltor before Sarafin had the chance to tell her? Had she been expecting me for some other reason, like she wanted to interrogate me about Leera's mind-jinking?
Sarafin shouted "Callah!" again, and the cinem woman frowned.
"Do let him in."
"With all due respect, I'd rather not. He- he's been harassing me, actually. Is there another door I could leave through?"
Tutting, she dodged around me to unlock the door. I scrambled to find another exit, but the only window had a man sitting in front of it. There was a door. I flung it open to find a closet full of scrolls.
"Cal- I mean, Miss Dorimal, my apologies. I didn't realize you were conducting a meeting," Sarafin said.
I reluctantly turned around to see that his hands were a violent kind of red where he'd been holding my wrists. The thought of running out behind him crossed my mind, but I was vastly outnumbered at the moment. Maybe if I waited, there would be another chance to escape.
With a side glance at me, Sarafin turned to face the room at large. "I have important news. Ella is most definitely a paltor."
YOU ARE READING
Dragons Rising ✔️
FantasyTo wizards and mind readers, shapeshifters are disposable. The only way to prove that a shapeshifter is worth more than the dirt on their shoes is to become a dragon rider. Ella plans to do just that. When a stubborn, bad-tempered dragon picks her...