ILLYRIS | ii. "A DRAGON CAN'T BE BOUND BY CHAINS." INFEROS
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BEX WAS THE first to pull Thea aside. She stared at her best friend in horror and shock, finally realizing why the dragons had been brought along and shrunken. However, the sheer possibility of it was never something she accounted for. Worst of all, when Bex took one look at Thea, she saw serenity. Like she made her final decision.
"Thea," Bex whispered, her brows furrowing. "No, no you can't."
The maegi snuck a glance towards the Stormcrow who was joking with his fellows. Bits of insults— calling her a child, a worthless little girl— jumped out. The prickling in her vein heightened but she inhaled deeply to calm herself down.
"Teddy, come on, it's not worth it," Peter protested. Thea couldn't see what his face wore but she knew it was the puppy-dog eyes he had whenever something deeply upset him.
Serafina bent her head down, her voice tough and lecturing. "You have a better chance at taking back Dragonfort with two dragons."
A stare from Thea had the three of them setting their jaws but backing away. Warmth rose to her cheeks and she felt like she was being berated by a parent in front of strangers. The Stormcrow looked at her idly, even failing to hide a yawn. He muttered something to his associate about turning them away and finding new buyers.
Bright blue light filtered down through the diamond-shaped panes of tempered glass set in the sloping triangular walls. Techno music pumped in the distance but they were muffled by the thick wood surrounding them all in that warehouse-like garage.
Everyone was silent, watching Thea step forward with her hands resting plainly at her sides. "Five thousand soldiers and the ones who are untrained, ninety-five ships... for one dragon."
The Stormcrow narrowed his eyes, his sparse English heavily accented, "Two dragons."
"One," Thea stated firmly, her eyes stone as they met with the crime lord's.
They conferred amongst themselves once again. She could not quite make out all that they were saying, but she could hear the greed. Each of the six brokers was attended by one or two associates. The Stormcrow was flocked with five. They all looked different; some mixed-Crolazi men, others with dark skin, and even a Russian she pointed out from a deeply accented refusal of her offer. Their hair was black, blue, or red. All wrapped themselves in fancy, bejeweled suits and extravagant earrings. One of them was covered entirely in tattoos, it was hard to tell what was skin and what was ink. He wore a fringe of gold chain necklaces that clinked together softly when he shifted in his seat or moved an arm.
"We cannot sell untrained boys to this girl."
"We can if her trinkets are worth something."
The one with the tattoos stood up straight and the curtain of gold chains dangling from his neck clinked like wind chimes. "They are not true Valoqar. They have not attained their weapons. If they fail in her missions, they will shame Madripoor. What would we tell the next buyer who comes seeking to purchase Valoqar?"
