Lira darts toward the weapons rack, drawing the ashblood's attention. It lunges, but its chains jerk it back just short of her position. She seizes several spears, tossing one to Sariah, who catches it despite her injured ankle.
The fire drake finally dislodges the spear from its throat, spitting it out with a shower of blood and saliva. It roars, flame once again building in its throat.
I break cover and sprint directly between the two dragons.
The ashblood's head whips toward me, jaws snapping. At the same moment, the fire drake unleashes a stream of flame. I dive into a roll, feeling the heat sear my back as the fire passes overhead—and directly into the ashblood's face.
The larger dragon screeches in rage, more insulted than injured by the flames. Its attention shifts from me to the fire drake, ancient instincts overriding its focus on smaller prey. The two beasts roar challenges at each other, straining against their chains.
“The platform!” I shout to Lira, who's already moving, using the dragons' distraction to reach the wall beneath the hanging maintenance deck. I race to join her, my lungs burning with exertion.
“What exactly is your plan?” she gasps as we both begin to climb the tiered seating.
“Try to cover for me,” I breathe. “And throw me a spear if I scream for it.”
I reach the highest tier and assess the dangling platform. It's attached to a pulley system, with one chain already broken.If I can reach it, I might be able to drop directly onto the ashblood's back—it’s the only approach I can see to end this. The only approach that avoids those deadly jaws.
Below, the dragons' mutual rage has reached a fever pitch. The fire drake unleashes another blast of flame, scorching the ashblood's flank. The larger dragon retaliates by whipping its spiked tail into the fire drake's side, drawing blood.
“This is unprecedented.” I hear someone’s voice in the viewing area. “Ashbloods never engage with lesser dragons.”
“They're not supposed to be fighting,” Selen shouts, her voice rising above the chaos. “Voss, end this now!”
But Voss merely smiles, his misshapen face twisting into something ghoulish. “Let them earn their meals,” he calls out.
The ashblood suddenly goes still, its massive head turning toward me. Our eyes lock across the chamber, and something passes between us—a moment of recognition, of assessment. Unlike the uncontrolled rage of the fire drake, I see more calculation in those eyes. More intelligence.
“Veyra, move!” Lira screams.
The platform chain groans above me. I tear my gaze away from the dragon just as the second chain snaps. The platform plummets, and I dive forward, catching the edge of the metal grating as it swings wildly. My fingers scream in protest as I hang suspended above the pit.
Below, the dragons' fury reaches new heights. The fire drake, sensing an advantage, blasts another stream of flame at the ashblood. This time, the larger dragon doesn't merely endure it—it inhales, its throat expanding as if drinking in the fire itself.
“Gods,” Nyx yells from her position near the wall. “It's absorbing the flame.”
The ashblood's scales begin to glow with inner heat, blue-black iridescence taking on an ember-like quality. The serrated spines along its back pulse with the same energy.
“Ashblood counterstrike!” someone shouts. “Clear the pit!”
All handlers retreat toward the exits, ready to step out at a moment’s notice—while I hang from the platform, directly above the center of the storm, every breath sharp with terror.
The ashblood rears back, its chest expanding, then contracts with explosive force. What erupts from its jaws isn't fire. It's a concentrated blast of blue-white energy that strikes the fire drake squarely in the chest. The smaller dragon screeches as scales melt and flesh sears, collapsing to its side in the sand.
In the sudden silence that follows, I can hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. The ashblood turns its attention upward, to me—dangling like bait on a hook.
“Cut her down,” Voss orders, and I see a handler reach for the platform's release mechanism.
“No!” Selen's voice cuts through the chamber, but it's too late.
The final support gives way. I fall, tumbling through open air toward the ashblood's waiting jaws.
The seconds fracture, shattering into slow shards. I see individual scales as I plummet, the pattern of iridescent blue and midnight black swirling like the night sky. I see the dragon's eyes tracking my descent, pupils dilating. I see the spines along its back flare, preparing for the kill.
In that suspended moment, training and instinct meld into desperation. I twist mid-air, trying to angle away from those waiting jaws. But the ashblood's head jerks, tracking my movement. So instead of fighting the inevitable, I do the unthinkable. I stop thinking. I stop breathing. I just move—straight into madness.
I reach for it.
My hands grasp one of the serrated spines along its neck as I slam against its back, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Pain explodes across my palms as the edges cut into my flesh, but I hold on, fingers slick with my own blood.
