“What happened?” Leonard barked, his voice firmer and more authoritative than Cael had ever heard it.
One of the keepers turned, a Windrider male with fleshy charcoal wings and a braided mohawk. He held up a rod with an iridescent white scale the size of a dinner plate skewered on the end. “Sorry, boss. My aim was a little off.”
Leonard fisted the male’s shirt, fury distorting his features. And despite the keeper’s height—a good eight inches, at least,above Leonard—he had the sense to look cowed. He raised his palms, and the rod clanged to the pit floor.
Leonard seethed, “How manyfuckingtimes have I told you to be more careful? That’s the third scale you’ve pulled off this month. If it happens again, you’re fired.”
The keeper held Leonard’s stare, jaw hardening, and his eyes flicked toward Cael. Likely worried about what Cael might say to his father.
“What does it matter?” the keeper grumbled. “She’s a machine. She’d still breathe fire if we stripped offallher scales.”
Leonard shoved the keeper in the chest. “Pick up your rod and get back into position.”
The keeper grunted, but did as he was told. He plucked up his rod and wrenched off the scale, then tossed it aside as he retook his place in line.
Leonard turned to Cael, his hands trembling. “These keepers… Sometimes I think they forget she’s a living, breathing being.”
Cael pulled Leonard into a pocket of shadow. “Iwilllearn her name and break the spell.” He pulled the crucibles from his pocket. “But in order to achieve that, I’m going to need a few samples of her fire.”
Leonard glanced at the graphite containers, then sauntered to a metal cabinet from which he grabbed a pair of long-handled pliers. “Take some when they prod her again. Do you need gloves?”
Cael shook his head, reiterating what Trophonios and Tristan had told him. “These containers keep the fire alive while the outside remains cool.”
Leonard chuckled. “Do I even want to know where you got them?”
Cael smirked. “The less you know about the intricacies of our plan, the better.”
Leonard clapped a hand on Cael’s shoulder and squeezed. “Let me know what else I can do to help.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Cael took a position on the line between two keepers, placing both crucibles into the pliers. He eyed the dragon, swore he could feel her pain and anxiety as she awaited the next prod.
A plan coalesced in his mind.
Be ready. He sent the thought drifting toward her. Her muzzle twitched and her eyes cracked open, understanding glowing with them.
A keeper started a countdown, at the end of which the entire group poked the dragon with their rods.
She didn’t roar this time, merely spewed a long jet of flame. Cael angled the pliers into the stream, then pulled them back, flicking the crucible lids closed to keep his samples secure.
The flames dissolved and the dragon slumped back down to the floor. But Cael could sense the tension priming her muscles.
She was waiting for his signal.
Cael gave Leonard a two-finger salute, then slipped the crucibles into his pocket. They were warm to the touch, but certainly not the skin-melting temperature of the seeds of dragon-fire now contained within.
Cael strode for the metal stairs, and as he passed the mohawked keeper, he stumbled into his back.
“Oof,” Cael said, louder than necessary. “Sorry, mate.”
“Watch yo—” The keeper turned, then bowed his head. “My fault, Master Zephyrus.”
Cael looked down at the same moment the keeper did.
At the same moment the keeper realized he was well beyond the carved line.
“Oops,” Cael whispered, flicking his gaze over the keeper’s shoulder.
