Cael couldn’t take his eyes off the dragon as its roar dissolved into a whimper, its wings straining against the chains. As if it were trying to protect itself when the keepers moved in again with their rods. Another powerful blast of fire surged through the tubes and Cael’s chest constricted.
“Quite a show, isn’t it?”
Cael nearly jumped out of his skin as the forgemaster shouted into his ear.
“Amazing,” the male said, looking down and shaking his head. “The fire never runs out. You could prod that bitch every minute on the minute all day long and the fire will be just as hotthe hundredth time as the first.” Cael choked back his horror. “Come. I’ll show you the forges.”
“Actually, I’d rather go down to the pit floor. See the creature up close. Who here is responsible for its care? I’d like to speak with them.”
The forgemaster raised a bushy brow. “Your father never goes to check on it. Last time he did, about eighty odd years ago, she broke one of her chains and nearly melted him alive. Took twenty keepers to subdue her. Since then, whenever High Councilor Zephyrus visits, he only inspects the forges. Are you sure you want to go down there? You share his blood; she might react just as violently.”
“I’m sure,” Cael said firmly.
The forgemaster muttered, “Your funeral. Turn around. We need to go back the way we came.”
Cael stepped aside, letting the forgemaster pass by him before he followed along the walkway, then down a set of metal stairs.
As they descended into the pit, Cael realized the dragon’s scales weren’t black at all. They were coated in soot. Shimmering white streaks shone through in several places.
They reached the bottom, a circular expanse of stone floor to which the chains were bolted. The keepers gathered against the wall, chatting and laughing as if they hadn’t just been torturing the poor thing. Cael wanted to rip their limbs off.
The dragon lay on her side, eyes closed, her wounded belly expanding and contracting with her steady breaths. A substance oozed from the punctures, unlike any blood Cael had ever seen—goopy and translucent with an iridescent shimmer.
“Leonard!” the forgemaster called out. “Master Zephyrus would like to speak with you!”
An ancient Beastrunner poked his head out of a small alcove carved into the stone, then shuffled over to Cael and theforgemaster. Leonard’s thick white hair was brushed back from a tanned face lined with deep-set wrinkles. A long, scraggly beard cascaded over his protruding belly and a pair of spectacles perched on his nose.
He wiped his hands on his leather apron, then reached one toward Cael. Before Cael could grasp it, Leonard looked down and squeaked.
“Back up, back up!” He pulled Cael backward and pointed to a line carved into the stone beneath their feet. “That’s the range of her chains. If she catches you inside that line… Chomp. Crunch. Dragon lunch.” Leonard doubled over with hooting laughter and Cael couldn’t help his own soft chuckle.
The forgemaster turned to Cael. “If you don’t mind, Master Zephyrus?—”
“Just Cael is fine.”
“—I’ll leave you here. Need to show my face in the forges. Can’t afford any slacking right now! Leonard can escort you out when you’re finished.” The forgemaster grabbed Cael’s arm, then leaned in, his sour breath coating Cael’s nostrils. “I trust you’ll give a good report to your father? Tell him how hard we’re all working? Would be nice to see a little bonus in this month’s pay.”
Cael nodded as the forgemaster retook the stairs. Though he doubted his stingy father would honor such a request. He turned to Leonard. “I’d like to hear about the dragon’s care, please. What’s her routine like?”
Leonard cocked his head. “Really? Why? Is Arran asking?”
Cael was a bit taken aback that Leonard had used his father’s first name so casually. But he didn’t probe as he took a step forward, towering over the male.
“I’masking.” He speared the male with his storm-cloud glare and flared his wing.
Leonard chuckled. “Don’t need to get all dominant with me, lad. I’ve dealt with far more dangerous creatures than you.” He darted his gaze toward the dragon, then let out a sad sigh. “I begged him not to do it, you know. A magnificent beauty like that doesn’t deserve to be in chains.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “A tragedy, if you ask me. But your father always gets what he wants, in the end.” The male eyed Cael’s wing. “As I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Her care?” Cael probed, not bothering to correct Leonard’s assumption that Arran had something to do with Cael’s missing wing.
“You saw the livestock fields when you arrived, yes? She’s fed a head of cattle once a day to keep her strength up, keep her fire productive.”
“Does she ever leave the mountain?” Cael asked casually.
“Yes,” Leonard answered, brows knit warily. “Every day, if I can manage it. After dusk. She’s frightening enough if you catch a glimpse of her shadow in a darkened sky. If I let her out during the day, the Fae in the surrounding villages would probably shit themselves.”
Cael glanced toward the dragon. Her horned head rested on the stone floor, eyes closed, tendrils of smoke curling up from her nostrils. Cael could sense her pain, as if he could feel it in his own body. In his own blood.
I’m sorry they have done this to you, he thought.
