Ember
I should probably be terrified.
I was pretty nervous. I was inside the St. George complex, surrounded by a whole army of dragonslayers who’d kill me without a second thought if they knew I was here. We still had to find Garret and somehow sneak him out without being discovered. And that close call with the soldier…my nerves were still singing, my hands shaking with adrenaline. I hadn’t even thought. I’d just seen him and…boom, he was on the ground. Would I do that again? Could I do that again, if I had to?
Was this what my trainer meant when she said I’d be an amazing Viper?
I pushed those thoughts away. Focus, Ember. Find Garret. That’s why we’re here.
“Where to now?” I whispered to Riley.
He huddled against the wall, speaking softly into his wire. “Wes, we’re in.” A few seconds passed with Riley listening to whatever the human was saying. Finally, he nodded. “Right,” he muttered. “Heading there now.”
“Did he find Garret?” I asked.
“No,” Riley answered, making my heart sink. “But he’s jacked into the security system and says that there’s a prison floor somewhere below us. If your human is scheduled for execution in a couple hours, that’s where he’s going to be.” Riley cast a wary look down the corridor. “There are still guards wandering about. Be careful.”
I nodded, and we started down the hall, which at this time of night was empty and deserted, but way too bright for comfort. Doors lined the corridor, most of them closed, but a few sat open, showing office-type rooms with desks and computers. I wondered what the soldiers and officers of St. George did when they weren’t killing dragons. It was hard to picture them doing normal things like checking email and IMing with friends.
As I passed yet another office door, a glint of metallic red caught my eye. And, for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I paused just outside the door and peeked in, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. At first glance, it seemed like just another office, with standard office furniture: chairs, metal cabinet, giant desk in the center. Nothing strange or out of place…until I saw where that faint glimmer was coming from. For a second, I frowned, not knowing what I was looking at.
Then it hit me like a punch to the stomach, and bile surged up my throat, burning the inside of my mouth. I was frozen, unable to look away, unable to do anything but stare at what lay through the door.
On the wall above the desk, spanning nearly corner to corner, hung the hide of a small red dragon. I could see the long elegant neck, the lighter belly scales, the curved black talons still attached to the feet. Its scales were a darker red than mine, almost rust colored, and it had thin stripes down its back and tail. From its size, it had been a hatchling at the time of its death, my age or younger. At one time, this lifeless skin had been a dragon, just like me. And now…now it was a trophy decorating someone’s office.
I think I made a choked, strangled noise, because Riley was suddenly at my side, pulling me away. “Shit,” I heard him growl, almost yanking me from the door. “Don’t look, Firebrand. Don’t look at it. Come here.”
I was shaking. Riley dragged me into the hall and pulled me to him, holding me close. I buried my face in his shirt and squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t forget the horrible image seared into my brain. I could still see that limp, empty skin hanging on the wall, and I knew it would probably show up in my dreams.
Riley’s arms were around me, a shield between me and the rest of the world, a world that slaughtered teen dragons and nailed their hides to the wall. “You okay?” he whispered, his head bent close to mine. I wasn’t, but I nodded without looking up, and he blew out a breath. “Damn St. George,” he muttered, and his voice was slightly choked, too. “Murdering bastards. Damn them all.”
“I’m…okay,” I whispered, though I really, really wasn’t. It was like something out of a horror movie, seeing someone’s skin nailed to the killer’s wall. I wondered what they’d done with the rest of the dragon once they’d peeled its hide away, then immediately wished I hadn’t. “It’s all right,” I managed, drawing back, though his grip didn’t loosen. “Riley, I’m fine. It’s…”
A door squeaked somewhere in the mazelike hallway. We tensed as footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder every second. Riley jerked up with a whispered curse. As the steps drew closer, we gazed frantically around for a hiding place, but, other than the open door behind us, there was nothing.
Sorry, Firebrand, Riley mouthed, and yanked me into the room with the dead dragon. I bit my cheek, feeling tainted, as if the ghost of the murdered dragon lurked in the room with us, and I might glance up to see a pale, bloody figure watching accusingly from the wall.
Pressing into the corner beside the file cabinets, we held our breath as the footsteps came toward the room. I turned my face into Riley’s arm and clenched my jaw, trying not to look at the grisly symbol of death on the wall in front of us.
The footsteps passed the room without slowing down and continued down the corridor. Riley waited a long moment after they had faded away and silence fell once more, before finally leading us from the room. I kept my face down and my eyes half closed until we were out of the office, but I could still feel the dead dragon’s presence at my back.
“Damn St. George,” Riley hissed again, sounding almost as sick as I felt. “Depraved, murdering… Ugh. I’m sorry you had to see that, Firebrand.” He put a hand on my arm, steady and comforting. “Sure you want to keep going?” he asked. “It’s not too late to turn around. Do we keep looking for the human, or get the hell out of here?”
Frowning, I pulled back to look at him. He gazed back grimly. “This is the true face of St. George, Ember,” he said, and his voice was almost a challenge. “This is what they do. What they all do.” He nodded to the room behind us. “How many times do you think your soldier saw that hide hanging on the wall and thought nothing of it? It was just a skin, a trophy, not a living creature with thoughts and fears and dreams, like everyone else.” His eyes narrowed. “We’re not people to them, Firebrand. They don’t see us as anything but monsters. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but your human was raised to think exactly like them. He saw you in the same way he did that hide on the wall.”
I shuddered, remembering the skin, tacked onto the wall in plain sight, and for a moment, my resolve wavered. Was I making a mistake? Was it really possible for someone to change his entire perspective? Garret had grown up in St. George, where these awful tokens of death and murder were considered trophies. Decorations to hang in someone’s office, like a stag head or a tiger pelt. Because to St. George, we were monsters. Animals. What if Garret still thought like that?
What if he doesn’t?
I swallowed hard. Regardless of what Garret believed, I couldn’t leave him. If I didn’t get him out tonight, he would die. Even if he saw me as a monster, I wouldn’t abandon him now.
“No,” I told Riley, turning from the office door and the horrible trophy hanging within. “We don’t stop. We keep looking. I’m not leaving him to die.”
Riley shook his head. “Stubborn idiot hatchling,” he muttered, though one corner of his mouth curled up. “All right, we keep going. Wes, you there?” A pause, and
