Regna’s words rang in his head:
Vask has eyeseverywhere.Even in that glittering eyesore of a palace of yours.
‘Elias means to free that damned dragon.’
And he intended to use Greta to do it.
Alarik was running before Vine could respond, spearing his way towards the mountains like a snow leopard on the hunt. They groaned as if to warn him away, but Alarik’s whole heart was inside that trembling rock, and he was going to rescue it – rescueher– even if it killed him.
CHAPTER 42
Greta
The legend was true. The beast under the mountain was indeed a dragon. It was trapped in a cavern barely wide enough to fit it and it was staring right at Greta as she knelt on the rocky path, its eyes like twin pools of ice-water.
The beast behind her was of another sort entirely. Traitor. Conniver. She could feel Elias breathing down her neck, his sharp fingers prodding her forward, into the cavern.
‘Get to it, wrangler,’ he hissed. ‘Tame that thing so we can get it out of here.’
She glared at him over her shoulder. ‘I’m trying tothink.’
‘Regna is a direct descendant of the Vaskan king who bred and gifted this very creature to Gevra. Dragons are the most loyal of beasts. Regna has assured me that this one will answer to her. So, go in there and tell that dragon it’s time to finally go home.’
Greta almost snorted. Did Regna really think that was how wrangling worked? That restless, half-starved beasts could be so easily reasoned with? So easily summoned from another kingdom with the simple click of a turncoat’s fingers?
‘It’s not that simple, Elias.’
One wrong move and they could end up as twin piles of ash.
He dismissed her warning. ‘Make it simple, before I draw my sword. If you don’t wrangle this beast, then I’ll make a human sacrifice of you and wrangle it myself.’
He prodded her again.
Greta’s thoughts spun, panic lacing her ribcage.
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. A voice stirred in the back of her mind.
Remember, Greta. You’re an Iversen. The song of the wild flows in your veins. A magic as old as the hills of Carrig, a gift beyond compare.
It belonged to her father; those vital words he had said to her before she left for Grinstad came flooding back.
Her heartbeat settled in her chest.
I am Greta Iversen,
And I am not afraid.
When she opened her eyes, her mind had settled, too. She had to be smart about this, think quickly before the dragon struck. The mountain was crumbling. The beast would crash through these walls eventually. That much was certain.
Without direction, it would wreak havoc. And who knew how hungry it must be after all this time? How long it had slept in this icy, endless dark? It could destroy Grinstad, burn the king and all of his guests. But if Greta was careful, and steady, and true to her wrangler’s spirit, she could help this ancient beast. They could help each other.
She could save Grinstad and bring Elias down.
To run now would only doom them all.
And anyway, the dragon had seen her.
It was looking right at her.
