Firedragon Rising (4 page)

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Authors: Mary Fan

BOOK: Firedragon Rising
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She leaned down, drinking in the map’s
details with her eyes.


Unfortunately, I can’t
let you take this with you. If you’re caught with it, that could
lead the Triumvirate back to me, and because of what I know,
ultimately back to the Rising. So I’m afraid—”


Don’t worry, Professor, I
got this.” The map’s black lines were already etching themselves
into Aurelia’s mind. She’d always been good at memorizing things,
and there wasn’t all that much to remember in this case. She
already knew the layout of the Capital itself—she’d committed every
building and street to memory so that if a monster ever breached
the perimeter, she’d know the terrain for the chase. And she’d been
sent on enough missions that she was familiar with the area
immediately surrounding the city. The rest was just a handful of
abandoned roads usually left out of official Triumvirate maps.
Since Enchanters goldlighted everywhere and could use magic to
transport whatever they wanted, there was hardly any need for
highways outside the protected cities anymore. The roads on the map
were probably overgrown slabs of cracked pavement winding through
untamed wilderness.

Good enough for a
motorbike, though
, she thought. The
vehicles were designed for all terrains, since Defenders often used
them to pursue monsters in the wild.

Williams raised his wand. “I must lift the
silencer spell soon. How long will you need?”


Done.” She grinned at the
startled look in the professor’s eyes. “Thanks. I’ll see you at the
Rising.”

Aurelia spun and strode out the door. Her
whole body felt tingly with anticipation. Traveling through fifty
miles of monster-infested wilderness in the dead of night, when the
supernaturals were the most active, wouldn’t be easy. And getting
away from the Triumvirate was going to be chancy at best. But no
beast would stand between her and her chance to take down the evil
government.

Freedom was near, so near she could hear it
calling her name. Before the sun rose the next day, she would be
gone from the Academy for good.

 

 

 

 

AURELIA
RUSHED THROUGH THE ACADEMY
, aiming to get
from Williams’ office to her room in the residential wing as
quickly as she could. She reached her door, but froze the moment
her hand touched the knob. Something was off. The plain wooden
slab, the red bricks surrounding it, and the yellow ceiling light
looked no different from the last time she’d seen them, but she had
an uncanny feeling that someone was
in
her dorm, and she knew better
than to ignore her gut. A nervous chill ran down her spine. What if
it was Everett or one of his goons, waiting in ambush?

She considered running away without the
things she’d returned to her room for, then realized how stupid
that idea was. Without any weapons, she’d be dead meat in the
wilderness.

Deciding to confront whoever was in her room
head-on, she threw open the door and marched across the threshold.
Then she stopped in her tracks, so startled by what she saw that
she barely noticed the door closing behind her.

Explosions of color filled her room—bursts
of reds and blues and greens erupting through the air with
glittering sparks. It took her a moment to realize that they were
enchanted fireworks, created by a spell. Showers of silver sparkles
floated down like snowflakes, yet she felt neither coldness nor
heat when they landed on her skin. A swirl of gold spiraled through
the air, then took the form of a shimmering dragon with red and
orange flames leaping from its outstretched wings.

She’d been prepared for
danger, or conflict, or hostility, but not for something ...
pretty.
What in the
world was happening, and who was behind it?

Her question was answered
an instant later when the flaming dragon—or rather, the
firedragon
—released a
brilliant yellow blaze from its jaws, which formed the words “Happy
birthday, Aurie!”

It’s my birthday?
She furrowed her brow as she tried to recall the
date, then widened her eyes.
Holy crap, it
totally is!

Only one person would have remembered:
Connor. He was her one true friend, the brother she’d never had,
the boy who’d befriended her when no one else would. For the
longest time, she hadn’t been able to figure out why he’d always
been so nice to her, especially since he was an Enchanter. And not
just any Enchanter—the son of the Gold Triumvir.

Now she knew. He’d known what his father had
done to her mother and felt terrible about it, especially because
the Triumvir had forbidden him from saying anything. Yesterday,
he’d finally confessed the truth to her. While guilt drove him to
approach her the first time, their friendship had sparked, and then
grown into something real over the years, and she couldn’t bring
herself to resent him for harboring the secret. She knew what the
Gold Triumvir would do to him for disobeying. Salvator wouldn’t
spare anyone—even his son—from his cruelty.

A mix of guilt and sadness wound through
her, pricking her conscience. In her anger at the Triumvirate and
impatience to get away, she hadn’t even thought about the person
she’d be leaving behind. But now she realized that once she left,
she’d probably never see Connor again. A great weight dropped onto
her heart.


Connor?” she called,
knowing he was somewhere in the room, probably concealed by a
camouflage spell. A lump formed in her throat, and she shoved it
down with a forceful gulp. “You’re not gonna sing that stupid happy
birthday song, are you?”

The glittering display spiraled into a
whirlwind of color, then shrank into a single point of light. As
the fireworks vanished and the dorm’s electric lights came back on,
Aurelia spotted the tip of the wand the light was attached to. The
rest of the golden-brown rod appeared, and then Connor faded into
sight, all smiles and sparkly blue eyes. He must have received
every bit of those good looks from his mother; if he carried any of
his evil father’s traits, Aurelia couldn’t see them, outside or
within.

He shook his head, causing his auburn bangs
to sweep his eyebrows. “I’d never subject anyone to my singing.”
His smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

She hadn’t realized her expression betrayed
anything. She was usually good at hiding signs of weakness—like
sadness—even from people she trusted. But Connor had always been
able to read her true feelings, and she had no reason to hide
anything from him. Someone else could be listening, though, so she
stepped closer and put her finger to her lips—a gesture that was
her way of saying, “Cast a silencer spell.”

A somber look descended on his expression.
He gave a curt nod, then waved his wand, whispering the incantation
as he scattered the silvery magic across the room. “What’s going
on?” he asked, once the room filled with mist.


I’m leaving tonight, and
I’m not coming back.” A pang shot through her heart, and she fought
to keep her face from dissolving into something weepy and
pathetic.


To join the
rebels?”


Yeah. I can’t pretend
anymore. Not just because it’s driving me crazy, but because
Everett’s gonna get me if I stay.” She quickly summarized what
she’d heard in the training room, and what it had led to—her
conclusion that Everett knew what she was thinking, and that he
intended to arrest her. Or worse.

He nodded slowly. “I understand. I knew this
day was coming and … well, I can’t say I’m surprised after what I
told you about your mother.” A sad smile curved his lips. “Good for
you. I wish I could come.”


Why don’t you?” She
perked up and suddenly felt selfish for not having thought of
taking him sooner. He certainly had no reason to be loyal to his
father. During the International Challenge, the Gold Triumvir had
been willing to throw Connor’s life away just to prove that he was
committed to the contest. If Aurelia hadn’t broken Connor’s arm to
force him out of the contest, she would have lost him. Yet he
continued to play the loyal son, even knowing that his father had
tried to kill him. How could he stand it?


Come with me!” She
started to continue, but his next words caused the idea to whither
like a blossom in winter.


I’m the Gold Triumvir’s
son, Aurie.” A stormy look darkened his eyes. “My father may not
care about me, but I still belong to him, and if I ran away he’d
mobilize the army to drag me back. Not to save me or anything, but
so he could kill me himself.” His jaw hardened. “They’ll send
enough people after you as it is. If I were with you … it would be
much, much worse. First, he’d track me to see where I was going,
and then he’d order an attack. Not only would you be captured, but
they’d seize any rebels they found with us as well. Your chances at
escape are slim enough as they are, and I don’t want to make things
any more dangerous. The best thing I can do for the rebellion is
stay away from them.”

The shards of her dashed hopes pricked at
her chest. She wished she could cry like everyone else and say that
she’d miss him, but that would just open the door to weakness. If
she let herself go soft this time, then next time it would come
more easily, and the time after that she’d find herself facing the
thing she feared the most: being helpless.

So instead, she replied the only way she
knew how: with biting sarcasm. “I knew you’d be too scared to
leave.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll miss
you too, Aurie. Maybe someday I’ll figure out a way to join
you.”

She wanted to say that
she’d miss him fiercely, that she wished more than anything that he
could come with her, that she hated, hated,
hated
saying goodbye. That he was
the most wonderful friend anyone could ever know. That she was
grateful to him for always being there for her. That she’d do
anything for him, and if he asked her to stay, she probably would,
no matter what the Triumvirate did.

But when she tried to speak, the words got
jumbled in her mind, and she was suddenly unable to string together
a sentence.

Connor’s eyes widened. “I almost forgot—I
have a present for you.” He crouched by her bed and pulled out
something he must have hidden there earlier. When he stood again,
he was holding a pair of swords in black sheaths. “Happy
birthday.”

She cocked her head,
surprised. He’d given her cards and candy for past birthdays—small
things that wouldn’t draw attention—but never anything like
weapons.

He handed the swords to her. “I had a
feeling this would be your last birthday at the Academy, so I
decided to get you something you’d actually want. It’s about time
you had your own pair of blades—and not the generic
government-issued ones.”

Upon receiving them, Aurelia could tell
immediately that the swords were something special. They were
lighter and better balanced than the standard ones, and when she
pulled one out of its sheath to examine it, she found that the
blade was black instead of the usual silver.


They’re enchanted,”
Connor explained. “They’re still made of silver, but the black
coloring will make them easier to conceal in the dark, and the
magic allows them to cut through just about anything alive. That
means no more getting your blades stuck in monster bones. Also,
when you clang them together and say the magic words, they
glow.”

A grin crept across her lips. She’d never
heard of any weapon more perfect. Light attracted monsters, and
Aurelia liked to get close to her targets when she fought, since it
allowed her to attack with more strength and accuracy. She usually
had to carry a flashlight to lure monsters when she hunted in the
dark. That—and blades getting stuck in bones—were among her biggest
pet peeves. Only Connor would know her well enough to get her
exactly what she needed.


You put out the lights by
sticking them back in their sheaths,” he went on. “I cast the
enchantment myself, so I’ll vouch for it.”

The echo of Williams’ words about the Way
Station’s perimeter wasn’t lost on her, and she thought it funny
how much Connor had in common with the old professor. Both were
total nerds who were good at putting their smarts to use. Both were
a lot tougher than they looked. And both were living reminders that
not all Enchanters were bad—just the ones who obeyed the Triumvirs.
The battle wasn’t between the magical and the non-magical; it was
between those who stood for freedom and those who just wanted power
for themselves.

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