Silver and Green with Envy: A Sebastian Sallow Story

Chapter Thirty-Six

Bolton led Natty and Poppy away and down another corridor, while I turned around and came face to face with another poacher. He too, was smiling at me, but I really didn't like it. Fighting the urge to attack him, knowing it would put Natty and Poppy further at risk, I followed him against all of my instincts. He checked behind his shoulder once or twice to see if I was still there and the further we went, the more poachers appeared.

They looked at me like I was a curiosity. A new animal. Some looked terrified, some like I was fresh meat. I heard the whispers. 

"...She's friends with the spiders..."

"...Took on a whole camp with a griffin claw sticking out of her side..."

"...Urton is going to have fun with her..."

I bit my tongue and did my best to ignore it. After what seemed like ages walking further and further down, we came to a heavy metal door. The poacher who accompanied me cleared his throat a bit. 

"You can drink one potion, if you have it. But only one. Them's the rules. Well. You're the first human in one of these fights so it's a new one, but the only one."

I sighed a bit, not acknowledging being spoken to, but I dug into my pocket regardless. I felt the three potions Griffs gave us, and the one from Aesop. A man who had become a father to me. I was angry for a moment, that I hadn't appreciated it as much as I did right now.

I recalled what he'd said about only using it in the most dire of circumstances. This seemed to qualify, but...Griffs had seemed pretty adamant about the three he'd handed over. 'If you're going where I think you're going'...So he knew. He knew what was waiting for us. 

I pulled one of those potions out instead and popped the little cork, downing it without thinking. I shivered, as the sensation of a million icy needles pierced their way through my bloodstream. I realized then what it was. An ice potion...protection from fire?

"FOR THE FINAL FIGHT OF THE NIGHT WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT! A FIGHT TO THE DEATH! THE MENACE TO ALL POACHERS IN THE HIGHLANDS, THE GRIM, ELENA VARRIS, AGAINST OUR REIGNING CHAMPION, URTON THE DEFIANT!"

The stands absolutely erupted in cheers and shouts, people banging on railings as the announcer finished. I barely had time to take in the fact that I had indeed, earned a moniker. As the door opened and I got shoved forward, I realized why I needed protection from fire.

Urton was a fucking dragon.

~~~

I was thankful for a couple things as I stepped inside, the arena going dead silent.

One, the dragon, a Hebridean Black I wagered, seemed to currently be in some sort of spell induced stupor. Every breath it drew sounded like a crackling campfire, and every exhale kicked up a small tornado of dust.

Two. It didn't look to be in the best shape, though that wasn't surprising to me. It was still insanely dangerous.

Three. It was chained to the ground. 

My nostrils flared, smelling the sulfur and heat that surrounded me. I took a single step closer, and a bolt of magic was cast down toward the dragon, ending its rest. Urton blinked. Once. Twice. It's brilliant violet eyes focused, its cat like pupils dilating briefly before becoming menacing black slits, focused solely on me.

I raised my wand as Urton raised his head. 

The ground trembled as he continued to right himself, my head canting upward to keep focused on his eyes. For too long a moment, we just stared at each other, frozen.

Then, in a split second, he reared his head back, inhaling as much air and heat his lungs could muster. The sound made me think of trees being ripped from the ground during a storm, but there was no time to think as I dove out of the way before he unleashed a jet of fire right where I had been standing.