The Firedragon Read online

  Maybe Vilk was right. Maybe the Challenge was all a charade to show the people how scary the supernatural could be.

  But she shook her head. It doesn’t matter. I have to finish, or the Triumvirate will win. If she did as Williams told her to and quit, the people would see a Norm fighter running away from the competition. Instead of showing that Norms were as good as Enchanters, she would be reinforcing the idea that only the magical could fight the monsters and protect the cities. The government would keep scaring people into absolute obedience … and the world in which she lived would remain unjust. But if she defeated the greatest enemy the government threw at her, she would prove once and for all how capable Norms were. The future of her kind was in her hands.

  She wouldn’t let them down.

  A fangbeast is nothing but a pack of wolves, and I’ve taken on a pack of wolves before. She squared her shoulders and marched forward, determined not to let the fear enter her mind again. Instead, she repeated to herself the reasons she’d had for wanting to win so badly: Beat the Enchanters, prove that magic doesn’t make them superior to Norms.

  And change the world.

  This was it: The final contest. And Williams had been right – the champions were up against a fangbeast.

  Aurelia had thought she’d be put in the arena with the monster, on her own. Instead, though, the Challenge officials had transported her and the other nine champions to random areas of a city that had been destroyed during the war against the Lord of the Underworld. A fangbeast – the first to surface in fifty years – had been spotted there.

  The thought of facing it made her heart quake. She couldn’t keep her mind from wandering back to the tales of horror she’d heard about past fangbeast encounters – like the one about the monster who got past one city’s perimeter and attacked a factory full of workers. By the time the Sentinels arrived, there was nobody left to save. She may have been the best in the qualifying round, but she was still just one girl, up against a never-ending army of beasts. Why had this seemed like such a good idea? Why had she thought she could take it?

  She closed her eyes. Fear made her tense and shaky, both of which hindered her ability to fight. She needed to think about something to relax herself. The first comforting image that popped into her head was Connor’s friendly smile, but the warm feeling it brought quickly disappeared as she recalled what she’d done to him. She hadn’t been allowed to see him since she knocked him out, and though she’d considered finding a way to sneak into his room anyway, she’d known he wouldn’t want to see her.

  The thought of facing his accusing eyes had been unbearable.

  Realizing that she was letting her mind wander, she brought her focus sharply back to her surroundings. The last thing she needed was for the fangbeast to catch her while she was lost in thought. Now she regarded the burnt shells of broken buildings towering over her, some of them looking ominously close to collapsing. Cracked, faded signs hung crooked over the dark doorways, which led to rooms littered with destroyed furniture. A featureless gray sky stretched overhead, and the smell of rotten garbage mixed with ashes wafted through the air.

  “Manhattan,” she muttered to herself, repeating the name of the dead city. “Weird thing to call a city.”

  She and the other champions had each been given a motorbike to get around, a mini Procul Mirror to see what was being broadcast to the viewers across the globe, and a simple instruction: Find the fangbeast and kill it. A handful of Sentinels, cloaked in invisibility, were flying above the city with Eye Stones to capture the action, watching her every move. And Williams wanted her to beg them to save her from the monster.

  Screw that. I’m going to kill it. She was more determined than ever to win this competition, now that she’d seen how serious it was. The Enchanter who’d been mauled by the manticore had only been the first of the contestants to fall. At least a third of the nominated Defenders and Enchanters had been killed in the qualifying round – felled by monsters in gruesome, terrifying ways. But while that fact disturbed her, she couldn’t let it distract her from her goal.

  Norms around the world were counting on her, and she refused to let the Triumvirate get away with their plot. They were setting people up to die, and counting on the Norms to die first, so that the Enchanters had a reason to stay in power. But if she, a Norm, killed the fangbeast, then their scheme would be ruined.

  With that in mind, she jumped onto her motorbike and sped down the empty asphalt streets, narrowing her eyes against the wind.

  Where to start? She knew from fangbeast lore that they liked ashes, and were attracted to supernatural fire. But this city was full of ashes, and she didn’t have anything magical on her. That didn’t leave her very many options. So she’d start the hard way – by driving around and searching until she found the beast.

  Suddenly, the motorbike’s engine went dead. Aurelia tried to restart it, but nothing happened, and she tensed, feeling beads of sweat form on her face. This was no time for the bike to fail her. It could have been a mechanical malfunction, but given where she was, she knew better than that. A haunted, destroyed city like Manhattan was certainly home to more than a few spirits, and their presence would cause anything mechanical to fail.

  Something supernatural was lurking.

  She jumped off her bike and pulled her double swords out of the sheaths strapped to her back. The temperature around her dropped, but she wasn’t sure if it was actually growing colder, or whether her own nervousness was chilling her. Even the overcast sky seemed to grow darker. The hollow concrete buildings around her trembled, filling the air with a low rumble, and then the ground beneath her feet shook. An icy wind, carrying a disembodied cackle, blew sharply past her.

  She shuddered. Specter …

  This was bad – really bad. Her silver blades would keep the spirit away from her, but she had no way to get rid of it. As a Norm, she was physically incapable of banishing a specter, and practically a sitting target.

  She looked around the street, but didn’t see anything other than the quivering buildings, whose dark and empty windows stared like dozens of vacant eyes. Rusted lampposts, all of which were either fallen or close to falling, lined the sidewalks, and bits of trash – torn clothing and wads of paper – tumbled past them. Otherwise, there was no movement. That was good. As long as the specter wasn’t strong enough to become visible, she stood a chance of outrunning it. She shook her shoulders to make herself relax; specters fed on fear, and the more frightened she was, the quicker it would find her.

  Before she could move any farther, a chunk of concrete fell from one of the shaking buildings, smashing onto the pavement. High, wicked laughter followed it, reverberating through the street, and circling her. Which meant the specter knew she was there – and was targeting her.

  She was out in the open, totally alone, against a spirit she couldn’t defeat. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew from the swirling wind that it was closing in on her.

  She whipped her double swords by her sides like a pair of propellers. If the specter tried to attack her, the silver would keep it back. Keeping her blades moving, she bent her knees and dropped into a defensive position, ready to make a mad dash. But where would she go? Would she be able to keep spinning her swords as she ran? She didn’t know – she’d never tried. Each time she’d found herself facing a specter before, she’d had at least one or two Defenders as backup, and they’d warded off the spirits with their silver-loaded pellet guns.

  Just then, a gruff voice shot toward her. “Get down!”

  Aurelia dropped to the ground, and a loud blast split the air. Something stung the top of her head, and an unearthly shriek echoed against the buildings. Another blast rang out, and then another … and another … and another. The specter’s cries crew more and more piercing, and she wanted to cover her ears, but had to keep all her senses alert. Wind whipped around her, so cold it seemed to carry with it all the chill of winter. Meanwhile, the blasts kept coming, forcing the specter to
retreat.

  One final, ghostly scream tore through the street, and then went silent. The air became still, and the buildings stopped shaking.

  Aurelia jumped up, her eyes darting around to see who had fired those shots. She saw Vilk striding toward her, holding a large pellet gun – the kind she was accustomed to seeing in the hands of Defenders – and did a double take.

  “Two swords?” he asked, regarding her with a look of disbelief. “That’s all you brought?”

  “They’re all I need!” she shot back, annoyed that he’d barged in and helped her.

  “What would you have done about that specter if I hadn’t shown up? Twirl those things forever? It’s a good thing the Sentinels were watching you and broadcasting your activities with the Eye Stones, or I wouldn’t’ve known where to go to save you!” he snapped.

  “You didn’t save me!” she shot back.

  Vilk shook his head. “You’re a real brat, girlie.”

  “And you’re a jerkface, so bug off!”

  “Like hell.” He grabbed her arm. “You’re sticking with me from now on. Last thing I want is to see a little girl torn to pieces.”

  Aurelia sputtered indignantly. Little girl?! She twisted her arm to free it from his grasp, and he released her. She wished she could kick him for treating her like a child, but held back. After all, he did just help her out of a sticky situation, whether she liked it or not.

  “Look at this.” He yanked his mini Procul Mirror from his belt. “They make the Challenge sound like some noble quest. The world’s best monster fighters, killed in a gallant effort to rid the Triumvirate of the Underworld’s most fearsome beast. Lovely tale, isn’t it?”

  He shoved the mirror in Aurelia’s face, and she couldn’t help looking at it. The image in the mirror showed one of the other contestants – an Enchanter from the Confederacy of Western Europe – holding up a domed blue force field. The man’s eyes were intense with concentration, but something about his expression revealed the fear he had to be feeling. He must have already found the fangbeast.

  The view widened, and her blood ran cold as the fangbeast – fangbeasts – came into sight. About a dozen hound-like creatures, with sharp teeth protruding over their jaws and glowing horns twisting between their ears, jumped at the Enchanter’s shield. Each tore ravenously with its ferocious claws, snapping its jaws and staring with blazing, merciless eyes. The Enchanter straightened his stance and hardened his mouth, but his wide, darting eyes betrayed his terror. Though the monsters were many, they all had a single goal: killing him.

  They were real. No longer just illustrations in textbooks, but actual living, breathing fangbeasts. She’d known that, of course, but seeing them in action was something else entirely.

  Then they abruptly stopped clawing and backed away from the enchanted dome surrounding the Enchanter, moving in unison. Aurelia felt her whole body tense, right down to her fingers, which gripped her swords so tightly that she could feel every groove in the hilts. Why had they stopped? What were they doing?

  Without any warning, each fangbeast clone split down the middle and became two. Their sudden calmness was even more menacing than their clawing had been. They formed a perfect circle around the Enchanter, and then, all at once, charged at the force field, their glowing horns simultaneously hitting the shield and ripping through it. The Enchanter shouted a spell and raised his wand. Red blasts burst from the tip, hitting several of the charging creatures, but they ricocheted off the monsters’ black fur.

  Aurelia, knowing the Enchanter was good as dead, turned away and pressed her clenched fists, still gripping her swords, against her ears in an attempt to block out the horror. Her heart pounded, but she kept her mouth firm. She wouldn’t let Vilk see her fear.

  This changes nothing, she told herself. She lowered her hands and, hearing nothing, figured that Vilk must have put the mirror away. When she turned, she found that she was right, and raised her eyebrows at him. “Trying to scare me again? Because it didn’t work last time, and it won’t work now.”

  He tucked the mirror into his belt. “Don’t pretend that didn’t disturb you. You looked away fast enough.”

  Irritated, she took a step toward him. “What was that meant to show me? That fangbeasts are dangerous? If you think that’ll get me to quit, you’re dead wrong. It’s a monster, which means I’m gonna kill it.”

  “You don’t have to.” He furrowed his brow. “I take it Williams told you to forfeit. For God’s sake, do it. After the fangbeast kills a few more of us, you pout those pretty little lips of yours, look up, and say you don’t want to die. Save yourself. Get out of here while you have the chance.”

  She glared at him. “Look, Grandpa, you’ve gotta stop treating me like a pansy. You say this whole thing is a show? Okay then, it is a show – my show. It’s where everyone gets to see a Norm girl beat all those Enchanters, and –”

  “And what? Why would the Triumvirate let that happen? Enchanters run this world, and they want to keep it that way. Specifically, Triumvirate Enchanters. Those three contestants with the gold, white, and blue cloaks were the only people meant to win this, but they didn’t make it here, did they? One got killed, one barely made it out alive, and one had to forfeit, thanks to you. So now, nobody gets to win.”

  Though she knew from everything she’d witnessed that he was right, she couldn’t help asking, “How do you know all this?”

  “That’s how the Triumvirate works!” He let out a dry laugh. “Everything the government does is to manipulate people and keep their grasp on the power. The whole thing’s rigged to be impossible. That’s why they have the no-interference rule, and that’s why they pitted us against a monster everyone knows can’t be killed by one person. We’re not champions; we’re martyrs, tragic figures the government can use to galvanize the people to war against the supernatural. Especially you, little orphan Aurie with your doll eyes and no family to compensate. You even helped their propaganda with that gung-ho attitude of yours.”

  She wished she could brush off his little speech as paranoia, but simply couldn’t. In his words, she heard Connor’s voice telling her the same thing back in the Scholar’s Library, and the thread of doubt that had been weaving through her mind finished its tapestry, now, presenting a clear image she couldn’t ignore.

  The Challenge was a lie.

  There was one question that still bothered her, though: Why me? Why would she be chosen to die? For a moment, she thought it was because of what Connor had said about her words sounding like treason, but that didn’t make sense either. She’d spoken them after she’d been nominated, and she hadn’t breathed a word of her secret hopes to anyone before then.

  “This makes no sense,” she protested. “If I’m supposed to be a ‘martyr,’ why’d they go through all the fuss of training me? If they wanted this whole thing to be an excuse to show people how dangerous monsters were, why not throw some clueless nobody out here instead?”

  Vilk rapped her forehead with his knuckles. “Think, girlie! You and I are supposed to be the best Norm fighters on the planet. If we can’t handle the monsters, no one can. Our deaths will prove that the Sentinels are the only ones who can protect the people.”

  She considered this, her heart sinking even deeper. It made sense … too much to ignore. Now, she understood what he’d been saying from the start.

  The government she’d trusted, that she’d fought for and planned to spend the rest of her life defending, had set her up to die. Not because she’d done anything to deserve it, but because they wanted to scare people into obeying them without question, and she, being an orphan, had been a convenient sacrifice.

  Still, there was no backing out now. Crying for help like Williams and Vilk had told her to went against every fiber of her being. And it wouldn’t solve anything. It would just prove that Norms were no match for monsters. It would allow the Triumvirate to win.

  So she stuck her swords back into their sheaths and put on her bravest face. “Well then,
there’s only one thing to do. I’ve gotta find the fangbeast and gank it. That’ll ruin their plans, won’t it?”

  Vilk shook his head. “It took more than a dozen Sentinels to slay the last fangbeast. You can’t kill one. Not by yourself.”

  “You know what I can’t do? I can’t lose. Because if I do, what was it all for?” A sudden wave of rage surged through her, and she gritted her teeth. “My coaches had me throwing daggers before I could read! ‘You’ll be a champion one day,’ they said. I worked so hard. I don’t know how to do anything else! If I can’t kill this monster, then … then what am I? What was the point of my whole life?”

  She blinked rapidly, furious at herself. Now wasn’t the time to get all emotional. She was in the middle of a task, one she had no choice but to complete. Everything she did, everything she was, hinged on her combat skills. She’d sacrificed her childhood to gain them, and because all she’d cared about was being the best, she was completely alone. No family, no friends … and now, even Connor was gone. But that was okay, because if the rest of the world was going to go on with their lives, people like her had to exist. She’d never lost to a monster before, and she didn’t plan to start now. If she couldn’t beat the fangbeast, she’d have failed at the only thing she knew how to do. Her entire life revolved around her ability to kill monsters.

  If that were taken away, then she had nothing.

  She drew a breath and met Vilk’s gaze. “This is my chance to take the victory I’ve been working for all my life, and I’m not letting it get away from me.”