“Conrad,” Bob said, his voice lightened by something that almost sounded like relief. “Finally.”
“That’sConrad?” Marci said, eyes wide. “I had no idea he was so big.”
“I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear you say that,” Bob said, checking his phone. “Of course,I’dbe delighted if he was more punctual.” He gritted his teeth. “Lazy snake always waits until the last minute.”
That sounded suspiciously like Bob had been worried, but Marci couldn’t think about that right now. She was too busy staring at the giant midnight-feathered dragon as he swooped in for a landing directly beside the black plume of smoke where Gregory had dragged Julius down. “What is he wearing?”
“His Fang,” Bob said. “Didn’t you notice Julius’s crown when he changed in the throne room? Conrad’s is no different, except he gets armor.” The seer smiled wide. “Grandfather always had a flair for the dramatic. Seems to run in the family.”
Marci couldn’t argue with that. She also supposed it made sense that the Fangs would change with their owners—a human-scale sword wouldn’t have been much use to a dragon Conrad’s size—but it seemed a little unfair that his would be so much bigger. Julius’s crown had barely fit on his head. Conrad got full-body coverage, and for him, that was a lot. Even now that he’d landed, he was so big she could still clearly see him over the buildings even from inside town. She couldn’t see Gregory or Julius, but a second later, Conrad solved half of the problem by lashing out with his front claws, grabbing the terrified orange-and-blue dragon and lifting him up until he was dangling at eye level with his much,muchlarger brother.
“Gregory.”
The name came out in a growl that shook the ground, and Gregory froze, staring up at the bigger predator with green eyes the size of beach balls. Marci was too far away to hear what he said in reply, but it must have pissed Conrad off something fierce, because the bigger dragon began to squeeze.
“Bethesda did not send me,” he snarled, his thunderous voice echoing across the desert as he crushed Gregory in his grip. “I am here because I am champion, and you, Gregory Heartstriker, have dealt our clan a great offense.”
By the time he finished, Gregory was almost crushed. Even after Conrad let go, he lay limp and panting in the bigger dragon’s palm. When he finally spoke again, though, his voice was loud enough for Marci to actually hear.
“In what way?” he demanded, baring his bloodstained teeth. “I’ve done nothing wrong! I’m just cleaning up the shameful mess everyone else has been too soft to—”
“The only shame here is you,” Conrad snapped, making Gregory jump. “You were granted your position in the Amazon because you were strong, but there is no strength in pummeling an opponent half your size who isn’t fighting back. If you disagree with Julius, that’s between the two of you. Kill him, maim him, betray him. Defeat him however you want, I don’t care, butthis…” He looked pointedly down at the smoking crater by their feet. “This is pathetic. There’s no fight here, only shameful, ego-driven drama, and I will tolerate it no longer.”
He spread his wings as he finished, and they were so huge, the tips actually shaded Marci’s head all the way in town. It was a move clearly meant to impress, and from the collective intake of breath in a hundred dragon throats she could hear all the way from the mountain, it was definitely working.
“Your weakness today shames us all,” he boomed, the words so loud they were physically painful. “You have insulted your clan and stained the honor of all who call themselves Heartstrikers. As Knight of the Mountain, First Blade of Bethesda, and Champion of the Heartstriker Dragons, I demand satisfaction.”
Marci wasn’t up on her old-timey dragon chivalry, but the bloodthirsty gleam in Conrad’s glowing green eyes left no question of what kind of satisfaction he wanted. Gregory must have known as well, because he began to thrash in the bigger dragon’s grip like a caught eel.
“It’s not my fault!” he bellowed, whipping his tail frantically. “It was a fair challenge! He’s the one who wouldn’t fight back!”
“That was his choice,” Conrad said coldly. “You had yours as well. You could have slaughtered him and taken what you wanted quickly and with dignity, like a proper dragon. Instead, you decided to drag it out and drag our clan’s good name through the mud in the process as you flopped and flamed and failed your way through this embarrassment of a beating.”
“But I didn’t!” Gregory cried. “I wastryingto kill him, but he just wouldn’tdie!”
“That makes your situation even worse,” Conrad growled. “We all saw the moment when Julius decided not to run and not to fight. Whether or not that was wise is immaterial. What matters is that even when he was on the edge of death, he did not falter in his resolve. That is determination deserving of merit. You, on the other hand, couldn’t kill a whelp who wasn’t fighting back. That makes you a failure as well as an embarrassment.” He grinned wide, revealing a wall of teeth that glared blindingly white in the midday sun. “Heartstrikers have died for less.”
“But this was all the Heartstriker’s idea!” Gregory said, his blatantly panicked face reflected in Conrad’s glistening fangs for all to see. “Mother’s the one who ordered me to kill Julius and save the clan!”
The accusation rang across the desert like a shot. Knowing what she did about Bethesda, Marci had zero trouble believing it, but Conrad just shrugged. “So what?” he said. “If you did this on Bethesda’s order, that’s just another failure. If you’re lying, then you’ve shamed our mother by dragging her name into your disgrace. Either one is grounds for death.”
“You can’t!” Gregory roared. “I did this for Heartstriker!”
“If this is your idea of helping the clan, I think we’re safer without you,” Conrad said casually. “But stupid and shameful as your actions are today, it is the privilege of the strong to be merciful.”
Terrified as he was, that seemed to throw Gregory into a rage. “Merciful?” he shrieked. “Don’t tell me the patheticnice dragonis wearing off on you, too!”
Conrad snorted, sending a black cloud of smoke into Gregory’s face. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said as the G began to cough. “You think this started with a whelp like Julius? Chelsie and I have always been merciful. Why do you think any of you are still alive?”
That shut Gregory right up. The whole desert was silent, actually. Even the dragons watching from the shadows of the mountain had gone still, leaving hundreds of wide, unblinking green eyes staring silently across the sand.
“As I was saying,” Conrad continued, “it is the privilege of the strong to show mercy, and since you have been a strong asset to the clan for many years in South America, I have decided to offer you a choice in your death. You can either fight me now and die with honor as, per your own words,a dragon should, or you can run away and live the rest of your life as a coward. Either way, your time as a Heartstriker ends now. You have already left the clan. If you fight me now, your status will be posthumously restored, and your corpse will be burned as a Heartstriker. If you run, though, your defection becomes banishment. Your name shall be stricken from our ranks, and every dragon who meets you from this day forward will know you only as a failure and an outcast. If you set foot on Heartstriker lands again, you will be killed as swiftly as any other trespasser. So tell me, Gregory No-Longer-Heartstriker, which death do you prefer? Your life, or your pride and status as a dragon? Either way, you’ll be dead to us forever, but such is the price of betraying your clan.”
By the time he finished, it was clear Conrad was no longer speaking just to Gregory. The last sentence especially was directed at the dragons watching from inside the mountain. But even though the champion was no longer looking at him, Gregory had already gone limp in Conrad’s claws. For a moment, Marci thought for sure that he was going to save his brother the trouble and slit his own throat on the champion’s cargo-container-sized claws. But then, just as Conrad was turning back to finish him, the orange dragon burst into motion, his long body moving like a striking snake as he leaped into the air and flew away as fast as his wings would carry him.
Conrad watched him go with a look of supreme disappointment before turning to address the mountain. “He has made his choice,” he announced, his voice echoing off the stone. “From this day forward, Gregory is banished. Any with vendettas or debts still standing against him may pursue those on their own time, but his life as a Heartstriker is finished. Any dragon who has a problem with that can take it up with me.”
He paused, letting the threat hang in the air, but nothing in the mountain moved. When it was clear no one was going to challenge him, Conrad folded his wings and crouched down. When he straightened up again, he was holding a small, blackened heap of once-blue feathers. It was so mangled, Marci didn’t even recognize the sad little pile as Julius until Conrad took off, cradling his broken brother against the smooth, bone-white chest piece of his armor as his enormous wings carried them both back to the mountain.
