Stealing the Dragon’s Heart by Kiersten Fay

43

Something’s happening, Aidan thought as he stepped outside a gift shop after inquiring of the owner if he’d seen a man fitting the description Onnika had given. The merchant had just shaken his head and then attempted to sell him, of all things, a protection charm. Amused, Aidan had seriously considered buying it for Onnika as a memento of their first meeting. Then the crowd began to stir with low murmurs that grew in the chattering excitement while an odd whisper of unease skated over his shoulders.

“What do you suppose has everyone riled up?” he asked the merchant, whose own curiosity had led him to follow Aidan out.

“Someone must have entered The Gauntlet,” the merchant replied. “See there? They’re flocking to the higher level for a better vantage.”

Sure enough, the lower level of the arena was thinning out. The best view would be from the second floor or higher.

Aidan scanned the bustling crowd, hoping to spot Onnika’s familiar white head, but he noticed with irritation that too many fans had bleached their hair to be as near in shade to hers as they could get, or perhaps were wearing synthetic wigs to achieve the desired look.

He reminded himself that she was no longer in danger. Those who hunted her were dead and gone. There was no reason for the palpitating dread that was accosting his heart. Yet he couldn’t shake it.

“There are two of them in there now!” someone hollered, and the commotion grew louder. That gave him a modicum of relief. A duo of competitors were attempting The Gauntlet together while Onnika still doggedly searched for the old man.

Motion from a high floor of the station caught his attention…

Bright lights reflected off the silver skin of a man who had leapt from the fifth floor. Aidan watched with his jaw slightly ajar as Asher fell through the air and landed on the base level in a crouched position, resulting in a resounding quake and the groan of metal bowing under him. The surrounding crowd screeched in fright and confusion, swiftly backing away. With barely a pause, Asher was up and racing toward the open door of The Gauntlet, his expression tight with aggression…and panic.

That sinking feeling plowed into Aidan’s chest once more, and he suddenly knew the identity of the contestants who’d entered that deathtrap.

He shot into action, racing for that opening as well, only a few yards behind Ash and closing fast. I have to get to her. Just as he felt burgeoning hope that they would make it in time, a stone slab crashed down in front of them and they both slammed into it, banging and clawing and bellowing.

It didn’t budge.

Aidan rushed the registrar and grabbed him by the neck. Wide eyed, the man yelped and put up his hands.

“Let them out,” he snarled, not recognizing his own voice…because he was on the verge of changing.

“I-I cannot, sir. I have no control over what goes on in there.”

“Who does?”

“The c-commissioners, I expect.”

From above, a great roar echoed through the space and multiple screams rang out. Apparently, Lear had finally figured out what was happening, had transformed into his dragon form, and was now perched on the edge of a seventh-floor balcony, staring down at The Gauntlet like it was his greatest enemy.

Aidan decided it was time to follow his prince’s example. He shoved the registrar away. “Then we’ll rip our way in.”

If Caryn hadn’t cried out, Onnika would have been a crispy critter. She’d jumped back a millisecond before that glowing tile had burst into a shooting fountain of flames. The heat was immeasurable, scalding even from where she now stood, plastered against the edge of the room on her tiptoes, terrified of the floor. What kind of hellish game had she just walked into?

Caryn, still standing motionless on her own tile, angled her body away from the heat so that her front was protected from the molten castoffs sizzling all around.

Finally, the flames died down and the tile was once more deceivingly innocuous. The air carried the bite of strong fuel, and the temperature had notched up several degrees.

“Caryn,” Onnika wheezed. “What are you thinking, coming in here?”

Caryn opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden thunderous noise shook the wall behind her. Onnika thought she heard someone—or several someones—yelling, but the thick stone muted it to mere babbling.

She glanced all around, trying to get her bearings. The room was of average size with four walls, that tiled floor, and a solid stone roof…or she thought it was stone at first. On a second examination, she could tell it was simply a simulated roof, comprised of either hologram tech or a giant screen. Cameras were probably set up all over the place in here, hidden in cracks. She imagined everyone watching having a grand ol’ time, while her and Caryn’s lives were on the line.

“It’s a maze,” Caryn finally explained. “They call it The Gauntlet.”

The ominous name sent icy shivers over Onnika’s shoulders.

“We need these vouchers,” Caryn continued. “I can get them. You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“You’re insane. You’ve been poisoned. You need to be in bed. All this exertion is going to make the poison spread through your system faster.”

Caryn wore a look Onnika had rarely ever seen outside of a mirror. It was equal parts certainty, determination, and stubborn righteousness. “We won’t make it in time without these vouchers.”

Another shudder ran through her. The idea of Caryn’s life forever doused made her want to scream at the universe.

Echoing her thoughts, violent roars sounded from outside, horrendous, screeching sounds that vibrated throughout the room. Aidan. And probably Lear. Caryn bit her lip, and Onnika got the sense she was more worried about their reprimand than she was of losing her own life. Onnika scanned Caryn’s intentions and found there was no way she could talk Caryn out of doing this. Still… “They’ll bring this building down before we ever finish.” Aidan was probably going insane. Empathy and guilt stormed her system. So much for staying out of trouble.

“Then we’d better hurry.” Caryn tossed away what looked like a white handkerchief. As it fluttered through the air, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Onnika watched the fabric parachute down, down, down, and barely kiss a tile piece before it was incinerated by another fountain of flames. She looked at her sister, awestruck. “What did you just do?”

“I’m finally trusting myself.”

Onnika studied her for a long moment. She almost appeared taller. Leaner. And though the evidence of poison hovered around the creases of her face, there was a newfound confidence there, too. “All right. Tell me what to do.”

Roaring with frustration, Aidan hammered the barrier with his claw-tipped paws, gnawed at it with his razor-sharp fangs, blasted hot molten flame at it from deep within his belly. Rage and terror had overtaken every cell in his dragon form, making him wild in his panic.

Yet The Gauntlet barely had a scratch.

The roof was an impenetrable force field. The metal casing was some kind of indestructible alloy. Even the glass that ran along the sides, revealing small rooms to onlookers, would not shatter. Likely it was protected by the same force field as the top.

Lear dove from his perch on the seventh floor, joining him in his desperation to tear open the structure with claws and teeth and fire, slithering along the surface, seeing a way to breech it. His desolate roar cut through the air, mirroring the wretched pain in Aidan’s heart. They were not strong enough. He felt hopeless and helpless. Impotent.

Even Asher was gaining no headway, slamming those iron-hard fists of his into the slab of stone that covered the doorway over and over, a war cry ripping through his lungs each time. Aidan knew the mighty power in those fists, had seen him render boulders to dust in a matter of minutes, knew he could wallop a bloody dragon into unconsciousness with a single blow. He always had to temper his strength, being scrupulously careful to keep constant control lest he shake a man’s hand and grind the bones to dust, or open a door and pull the handle clean off. He’d once confided in Aidan, over many, many strong drinks, how he sometimes feared his own strength.

And now all that aggression was being aimed at The Gauntlet’s impervious outer shell.

Still, the structure held.

From his position, Aidan could see through the clear surface to the vestibule where Onnika and Caryn stood, both tediously studying a tiled floor. With the racket he, Lear, and Asher were making, they had only glanced around a couple of times and looked up once, giving him the impression that they could neither hear—at least not very well—what was going on outside, nor could they see through the protected ceiling. They couldn’t see the utter madness clawing at the brains of the three frantic males desperate to save them.

Why had they entered this infernal device? What would drive them to such madness? Aidan knew the answer. Onnika would do anything to save Caryn. She would die for her if need be, even if it meant leaving him behind in tatters. More than ever, he cursed himself for not trusting Onnika sooner. For not protecting her from Tag in the first place. He put the blame on himself and let the pain of his failure slice through him like an icepick through the chest. If either of them died, Aidan would forever carry the sin as his own. Another black spot on his soul that could never be washed away.

That is, if he could bring himself to go on living at all.

While they grappled to reach the girls, flying contraptions approached, surrounding them. Some were undoubtedly cameras, while others were meant for defense, simultaneously blasting Lear, Asher, and Aidan with explosive force. But this ammunition was not made for the likes of them, with their thick skin and hard, scaly armor. Each blast was an insect’s bite. A nuisance…at first. Hidden compartments along the perimeter of the arena slid open, and from those dark, hidden depths, larger machines rolled in, cannon-like and bloodthirsty.

Aidan felt the first blast on his hindquarters. It knocked him sideways. The second landed on his vulnerable gut, punching the wind out of him and burning a black mark onto his belly. Lear was bombarded next, and an agonized wail thundered out of him. When Asher was hit, the force flung his body up against the door he’d been battering only moments ago. Aidan thought he spotted a crack in the slab, but before he could take a closer look, another blast caught him in the jaw. Sparks raided his vision. He shook his head, and then narrowed his gaze on the offending machines, no doubt controlled by some underpaid lackey who was finally seeing a little action.

Letting loose a prolonged, prehistoric growl, Lear crawled up beside Aidan, eyes flashing death. Asher slowly stood, turned toward their faceless attackers, and then cracked his knuckles. They made quick work of the offending machines, tearing them apart with a base rage that had no other outlet. Ripped wires, metal hinges, and splatters of oil made up the remains of their carcasses.

Everyone had evacuated to the higher floors of the arena, feverishly watching the gruesome scene play out. Cameras still hovered about, but they weren’t a threat.

Desperate to see what was happening within The Gauntlet, Aidan returned to his position atop it and could only observe as Onnika stepped forward onto a sinister square tile that began to glow the moment it felt the pressure of her weight.