With this new information, both girls moved at lightning speed, throwing on fresh clothes, and scrambling out of the room.
Gods, how had this happened? She wasn’t particularly punctual, but she had never wanted to miss something this important. Then the night before came back to her—the fight, the winnings, Basem Nix.
She winced. She’d fought Basem Nix. Scales. That wasn’t good. She had never seen Basem in person before, but she sure as hell knew his name. And the echo of it still rang in her ears. He was full-blooded Fae, had money, and enough connections to make her shiver. She hoped that she never came across him again.
“This way,” Clover said, grasping Hadrian’s collar and throwing him toward another set of stairs.
Kerrigan followed at a close clip. They burst out a side door that led into the Dregs, all a little breathless from the climb.
“You are going to be in so much trouble,” Hadrian said as they started forward through the crowded streets.
“I know. Don’t remind me,” Kerrigan grumbled.
“You’ve always been reckless, but this is next level,” he said.
“Hey, leave her alone, pretty boy,” Clover cut in.
He shot a seething glare at Clover. “Did you really have to come in that?”
She glanced down at the Wastes uniform she’d donned without thought and then shrugged with a smirk. “You don’t like it.”
“Leave it,” she snapped at Hadrian. “I’m tired enough without hearing you two always at each other’s throats.”
Kinkadia was arranged into six main quadrants on the city. The largest section the Dregs lay to the north and west. Central, which was full to the brim with markets, merchants, inns, and taverns, especially with all the tourists in town for the tournament. Row to the east was the nicest, most affluent part of the city with wide lanes, freshly manicured parks, and stately mansions for the Fae aristocracy. Riverfront, a new money section of the city, lay southwest and Artisan Village filled with artists to the southeast.
And the final section was the mountain. Draco Mountain towered high above everything. It housed the Society, a talented company of dragon riders and the formal government of the country, as well as her home—House of Dragons.
“I should stop being surprised that you don’t care about being Dragon Blessed,” Hadrian grumbled.
“I do care,” Kerrigan spat back.
“Dragon Blessed is only the greatest honor of a lifetime.”
“I know the spiel. The House of Dragons is an elite training program for Fae.”
She touched her ears. Fae. Not half-Fae. But no one had argued with her royal father when he’d dropped her off apparently.
“It’s more than that. It’s our duty to help raise the dragons, to better ourselves, to one day get to return to the world and make a difference, Kerrigan. And you’re squandering it all.”
Clover rolled her eyes. “It’s not like she dropped out of the program.”
“She can’t drop out,” Hadrian said as they finally passed the Square at the center of the Central district and turned south bending toward the arena. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m not dropping out anyway. I just miscalculated the time. I know how important the dragon tournament is.”
And she did. It was single-handedly the most important event in all of Alandria. Every five years, the twelve tribes came together and presented competitors to enter the tournament. A contestant was chosen out of each tribe to compete in three tasks. The winner of the event won not only a dragon but a place in the Society, a place in the ruling class. And this year there were five dragons up for grabs. The most in nearly a century. It was going to be a spectacle to behold.
It was Hadrian’s turn to look exasperated. “You’re not acting like it.”
“Yeah well…”
Clover punched Hadrian in the arm. “She had a rough night.”
“This is too important.” He dragged Kerrigan to a stop. She looked into his honey eyes and at his golden-brown skin. Saw the boy who had stood by her side all of these years. “You remember what happened five years ago. A human foreigner entered the tournament. She won a dragon and then left. She dismantled the entire system. This year has to go off without a hitch or we’re going to have riots in the streets… again.”
“I know,” Kerrigan whispered.
She could hear Hadrian’s concern. And she remembered exactly what it had been like five years ago. She had gotten caught in those riots… and nearly died.
“Are we going to go to the arena or what?” Clover asked through pants.
“Yes,” Hadrian and Kerrigan said together.
They finally pushed out of the crowded alleyways and to the entrance of the arena, which loomed in the shadow of the mountain. She panted as she stared up at the giant construction. They were late. They were so late.
Hadrian led the way to the box that was reserved for the House of Dragons. He opened the door, looked around once for Mistress Moran, the keeper and guardian of all Dragon Blessed, and then when he saw no one, ushered them inside.
A figure stood pacing anxiously in the darkness. She jumped when the door opened and her midnight eyes rounded into saucers “Kerrigan!” she gushed, throwing her arms around her roommate.
“Darby,” Kerrigan said with a laugh.
Darby laughed demurely and released her. “Hadrian, here to save the day, as usual. Where was she?”
Hadrian rolled his eyes and then gestured to Clover standing behind her. Clover’s hands were in the pockets of her black slacks. She still wore the red button-up shirt and black vest that denoted she worked for Dozan.
“Hi, Clover,” Darby said, ducking her chin to her chest at the sight of her long-time crush.
“Hey, Darbs,” Clover said with a wink.
“If Mistress Moran sees her in that outfit…” Hadrian said with a sigh, pressing his fingers to his temples. “I should have told you to change.”
“Hey, no sweat off my back, sweetheart,” Clover said, retreating into street slang as she put up a defensive position against Hadrian.
No matter how often they were together, he always raised her hackles.
“I brought an extra set of clothes,” Darby said hastily. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a frock. She shrugged as she glanced at Kerrigan “They were for you.”
“Perfect,” Kerrigan cried and snatched the clothes up to give to Clover.
“I’m not sure I’d say it’s perfect,” Hadrian muttered.
Kerrigan slung an arm around Darby as Clover went to change.
“Did we miss anything?” Kerrigan asked.
“Just a few speeches. We should hurry so we don’t miss the dragon presentations.”
Though Kerrigan had many reasons to distrust this world, Darby and Hadrian certainly weren’t part of that. Together, they were her rock.
Hadrian the straight-laced practical type, who always sighed when she ran straight into danger. And Darby her perfectly coiffed and manicured healer, who never fled from the sight of blood and at the same time somehow, wanted to be a lady in a royal court.
Darby was truly her opposite in every way. Soft and lithe with midnight skin instead of hard and fit and spattered in freckles. Long, straight black hair and depthless black eyes while Kerrigan had her mess of tangled curls, and her eyes were so green, they rivaled the emeralds mined in the north. Darby was soft-spoken, ever polite, and the best in their year for all things dancing, etiquette, and propriety.