Saipha hardly resembles the girl she once was—the girl I’ve known since we were little kids. The thin sheen of sweat now glistens on arched rows of scales. Her body has become three times its size. A tail grows from the base of her spine. Ice and frost made real by sheer magic hide the most gruesome parts of the transformation as flesh and muscle tear, changing and elongating. Swelling.
Her skin now shimmers with a brilliant blue hue, the color hardening fully into mature scales that gleam under the arena’s light.
Arms and legs are still there, though thicker—more powerful—and ending in talon-like claws that could rend metal in two with one determined strike. Wings so vast that they nearly touch the lights above unfurl from her back, the frosty membranes illuminated from behind, casting bony, veined shadows. A chilling gust sweeps across the stadium as they unfurl, forcing the Mercy Knights that had been racing toward her to brace.
Lucan spins us around, shielding me with his body—daring to put his back to her. Even still, frost coats my hair and crusts my eyes. I pry them open to look over his shoulder.
“We need to get farther away,” he says.
“I can’t leave her.” I grab him by the vest and plead with him to understand. I have to save her. What good am I if I can’t? I was helpless to save the other supplicants, Cindel’s mother, Father… I can’t abandon Saipha, too. “She’s still in there. I know she is.”
He doesn’t object. That alone gives me hope that he understands, maybe even agrees.
A roar shakes the very foundations of the arena, followed by the rumbling of the beast landing on all fours. Lucan and I nearly fall over. We’re close enough that Saipha could bite us clean through if she wanted.
Crossbows fire. A scream lodges in my throat. Every instinct tells me not to object. This is a dragon before me now. Let the knights do what they’ve been trained for. But all I can see is my friend. Even in that elongated face that’s both terrifying and majestic, I see her still trapped behind those all-blue eyes. Still screaming for me todo something.
The swirl of Ether around her deflects the projectiles that aim for her vital organs as she finishes her transformation.
“Close the line! Move in!” a leader shouts from somewhere. More Mercy Knights condense around the upper rim of the stadium floor.
Her father has recovered, and Marius races forward, pulling a crossbow from his hip. The arms fly out automatically as part of his draw. In one fluid motion, he’s readied a bolt with sigils etched onto it—a projectile engineered to cause the most harm to a dragon.
“Don’t!” I can’t stop myself.
He fires.
He shoots at his own daughter. The bolt is deflected by a wave of her wing that’s almost followed by a swipe of her claw. But she halts. Saipha’s massive head turns to her father, and I can see her draconic eyes widen. For a second, slits are pupils. Blue irises seem greener. He must see it, too, because he stops, frozen to the spot.
Your daughter is still in there, I want to say. But Lucan speaks before I can.
“Isola, pull yourself together.” Lucan shakes me, half dragging me back. I fight him. “That’s a dragon.”
“That’s myfriend.”
“You’re dead if they hear you say that.” The words are harsh. Yet, somehow, I continue to ignore them even when I know he’s absolutely right—when for my own good, I should let him pull me away.
“I can’t leave her.” I lock eyes with his, showing I’m not backing down. “I can’t. I made a promise to her—to all of Vinguard! I’m supposed to be everyone’s savior, but what good am I if I can’t even save my friend?”
“Steady. Aim. Fire!”
The knights unleash another barrage on the dragon. Saipha snarls, spinning, using her frost-covered wings to deflect the attacks. She retaliates with a roar that sprays icy breath on the upper ring of the stadium.
“Bring the rifle!” It’s the vicar’s voice.
My blood turns as cold as the gusts of wind rolling off her body. I’ve heard my father speak of this weapon—something he’s been working on ever since he had the idea for the cannon. A smaller version that could be wielded in two hands by just one knight. Weaker than a cannon but stillmuchstronger than a crossbow. A weapon that he hoped could change the tides of war and let us go fully on the offensive and push into the mountains.
I didn’t know he finished it. Is that why he’s dead? Did he outlive his usefulness?
“Saipha.” I struggle out of Lucan’s arms, stepping around him. This time, he lets me go. His eyes are distant and filled with defeat. I ignore them. “Saipha, I know you’re in there!” I raise my voice, and her massive, scaled head whips around to me. I hold out my arms in a gesture that hopefully shows I have no weapons—that I mean her no harm. “Don’t do this. Come back to us all. We don’t want to be without you.Idon’t want to be without you.”
I dare to draw Etherlight. It sparks in the air around me and her. No wonder she could see it on the rooftop… She wasbecoming a dragon herself.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner,” I whisper.
“Clear the area!” a knight barks from up along the top of the stadium. I think he’s talking to me. But I don’t budge.
Saipha has stopped moving; she’s focused solely on me. As if acknowledging she’s listening—that my instincts are right.
