Page 59 of Red Fire

“No, that isn’t what happened at all. Iamthinking straight, I assure you.”

“You must be hungry, thirsty. You need a medical checkup. Know that the male will stand trial for his crimes. We’ll get to the bottom of it soon enough.” He looks over at Creed. “It would be his second offense, punishable by death.”

“No. You can’t do that. Creed didn’t—” I make a noise of frustration when the colonel turns and walks away. He doesn’t give a shit about what really happened.

“We shift. We fly. To the city.” He draws a circle in the air with his finger, and then all of the men shift almost in unison. One grabs me in his scaly talon.

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” I shout. “Leave him alone.”

I look over at Creed. He is unconscious, dangling from a dragon’s claws as the creature takes off. The dragon who has me takes off, too.

I scream as we take to the sky. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but I’m not. I’m glad that Creed is alive. Tank could very well have killed him. I’m glad the city dragons came when they did. I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. My stomach was all in knots over the whole thing. Now he’s on his way back, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Once we get to the city, someone will listen to what I have to say, and they’ll let Creed go. They have to. Then it’ll all be over. I’ll be able to go home and carry on with my life.

The flight doesn’t take as long as I thought it would, which is great since I don’t love dangling above the ground like this. I start seeing signs of civilization. It isn’t the big metropolis I imagined it to be, but rather a collection of smaller villages. They seem to be clustered around a huge castle. We make for the tall structure. It’s constructed of brick and stone, with many towers and spires reaching up into the sky. I can see people scurrying about on the streets below, going about their daily business.

There are also dragons flying who are not a part of the guard. They stop mid-flight and hover, staring at us. I don’t blame them; I’m sure it’s not every day that this many dragons fly in formation through the sky. Then again, how would I know? Maybe they’re staring at me. The sound of flapping wings is all around me. The dragons rumble and call to one another.

I might have been “rescued,” but I don’t feel safe. Not by a long shot.

I look over to Creed, who is still dangling like a ragdoll from one of the dragon’s talons. I want to scream at the injustice of it all. What right do they have? He is innocent. The jungle is crawling with terrible, depraved shifters. My mind goes straight to Tank, but they have beaten and detained one of the few who helped me. One of the few who is really good and kind. Why? Because they wouldn’t listen to me. Because they lumped Creed in with all the other “jungle” shifters as scum. They’ve already persecuted him. They’re so sure that they won’t listen to me at all. It’s ridiculous!

As we draw nearer to the castle – it seems like we are headed straight there – I start to take in the details. There are flags all over the structure. They wave in a light breeze. It takes me a minute to make out what is on them. It’s a crest of arms in the form of a large, white, fire-breathing dragon against a red background. Must be a Mistveil symbol…I think.

We land on wide, green lawns, and all the dragons shift at once. It’s so loud that I have to put my hands over my ears to drown out the noise. Thankfully, it’s over relatively quickly.

“Come with me, human,” the guy who carried me says in a deep voice. He grips my elbow and starts marching. I practically have to jog to keep up with him.

Many of the shifters head in other directions. I see Creed dangling over the shoulder of one of the men up ahead. They are all naked, but by now, that doesn’t bother me. I note that there are a couple of women among them. I twist back to get a better look. They’re taller than human women, which makes sense since the men are taller by a mile. They’re toned and quite pretty. Like the men, they have tattoos. Everyone has them. Dark ink with red. I’m soon too far away to see properly and look to the front again.

Walking up ahead is Colonel Taro. I am tempted to shout to him. To try to get his attention, to get him to listen but I thinkit will be futile. I am sure I will be given a chance to tell my side of the story at some point. I will make them listen, hear me, and believe me. They need to understand that what they are doing is wrong. It would never be allowed on the Mainland. This place is very different from home. I keep getting reminders of that.

I look around as we are marched up a cobblestone path and note that the gardens are immaculate. The lawn is good enough to play bowls on. My dad used to love his bowls before…before my mom died.

We are led up a steep incline, heading for the castle. Massive wooden doors open as we draw near. Two large stone pillars stand on either side of the entrance. They’re covered with carvings of dragons in various poses. I think that Creed would do a much better job. His carvings are better than this by far.

We pass through the large doorway, and I am momentarily stunned. The interior is just as impressive as the outside, with high ceilings made of beams and panels carved with intricate designs. Most of the walls are adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting battles between dragons. Others show the stages of a dragon shifting. Despite this old-fashioned touch, the rest of the interior is ultra-modern, with state-of-the-art lighting fixtures and sleek, angular furniture. The floors are made of polished marble which reflects the light from the crystal chandeliers above. At the center of the vast entrance hall is a wide staircase with gold railings. It’s grand.

The air is cool and smells faintly of lavender and cedarwood. We are led down a long corridor lined with suits of armor and more dragon-themed tapestries. The guards escorting us walk with purpose. I feel a knot of unease form in my stomach as we approach a set of doors to the right. There are guards standing on either side of the doors. I can’t help but stare at them. They’re all dressed in black leather armor and wearing long swords in sheaths at their sides. The odd thing about them is that theyare wearing masks crafted from a dark, gleaming metal that has been twisted and shaped into the eerie likeness of a human face. It’s bizarre and completely off-putting.

They don’t move or flinch, but rather, they stand at attention before the doors, where we are led down wide but functional stairs. We march down several flights. No one talks. Then we head down a wide hallway. It’s all well-lit and clean. The floors are polished and gleaming, as are the bars of the cells.

Jail cells.

What?

I start panicking. By now, I’m used to it. I’m able to keep my emotions in check. To keep my mind calm, I take deep, easy breaths, keeping my heart from racing. I’m fine. We’re fine. This is going to be fine.

I peer back, trying to see Creed, but I can’t. He is no longer ahead of me, either. Where did they take him?

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“You are safe,” the guard holding my arm says.

“Where is Creed? The guy I was with…where is he?”

“I am assigned to your care. I do not know where he is, but you do not need to worry; he can’t touch you now,” the guard says.