The Dragon Games

Balthasar Manor

A few passerbys wandered by the gates. Regan knocked them out with one hand, while keeping the other in her hair to redo her braid. She took off the dress, but Viper stopped her from hanging it from the fence like a flag. Sammy would have thought it was funny. Viper just stared at her with dull, empty eyes. While Regan patrolled the gates, he patrolled her, practically salivating for an excuse to add to her punishment. He only looked away to check on Handeater, who was curled under the shade of the barn. The horses had run to the other side, straining against their ropes to put some distance between themselves and the dragon.

At high noon, Regan began keeping an eye on the manor, ready for the raiders to rush out at any moment, bags heavy with the loot. But as the sun crawled across the sky, the manor did not stir. Regan dabbed her sweaty forehead with the hem of her dress. Waiting was miserable in the summer heat, hot enough to fry an egg.

"Quit it," Viper growled, stilling the fence bars.

Regan glanced at her foot, realising she had been tapping it against the gate. "What's taking them so long?"

"He'll be ready when he's ready," Viper said.

"We should have left half an hour ago."

"He'll be ready when he's ready."

Regan shot him a loathsome look and turned back to the woods. Another hour crawled by, the most painful one yet. Each second made her want to crawl out of her skin. Say what you will about Drax's character, but the man knew how to get shit done. Jobs usually ended early with him, with few hitches to the plan. The raiders had never stayed past a job's departure time — and not just because they didn't need to. The longer it took to flee, the closer they got to the noose, because that's what would happen if they were caught. Straight to the gallows, each and every one of them. Suddenly, a faint noise caught her attention. Regan stopped breathing. It almost sounded like the clop of hooves.

"Did you hear that?" Regan said.

Viper's face had turned a ghastly gray. He pushed past her and climbed the side of the barn to stand on the roof. He peered through his spyglass at the miles of woods lying ahead, not moving for several long, excruciating seconds.

"What'd you see?" Regan shouted up at him.

Viper jumped down and ran straight for the manor. When he returned, he returned alone.

"So there wasn't anything?" Regan asked. That was the only explanation the raiders wouldn't immediately flee the manor.

Viper shook his head. "A group of knights on white stallions, several miles out." Then he leaned against the gate as if he had just announced the weather.

"Stallions?" Regan said. Only one group of knights rode white horses. "You mean the Sword Brethren are on us?"

"Yes," Viper ground out.

Regan gawked at him. The Sword Brethren were the best knights in the kingdom, hand picked by the king. "And we're not leaving?"

"The Sword Brethren are several miles out. We have at least an hour before they arrive."

"What does Drax need an hour for? It's a heist. Just grab the shiny crap and go."

"He'll be ready when he's ready."

"So we just stand around, dick in hand, waiting to get captured?"

Viper scowled, his voice sharpening. "Watch your tongue. He'll be ready when he's ready."

"The Sword Brethren are breathing down our necks!"

"He'll be ready!" Viper bellowed, twice as loud. "When he's ready!"

Regan glared at the manor as if she could see through the dragon glass and stone and straight into the chambers Drax occupied, doing gods know what. In the time it took him to steal the Balthasar's paintings, she could have gone to art school and created them herself. Sammy would have never been so sloppy. He would never put the job before his crew, and Viper was too fear-struck to notice. Or perhaps he did notice. Perhaps he didn't bank on making it out of the heist alive; perhaps he banked on the knights killing him faster than Drax would. Well, screw that. Screw the job, screw the raiders, and most of all, screw Drax. Drax could hunt her to the ends of the earth all he liked. She wished him good luck finding her, from whatever dungeon the Sword Brethren threw him into, from whatever rope they strung around his neck.

"I'm going to take a piss," Regan said, but before she could get far, Viper cut in front of her path.

"Where I can see you," Viper said.

"Viper, I'm a lady."

Viper didn't so much as twitch. "Do not make me repeat myself."

"Fine," Regan said. She square her feet and lifted her hands into a fighting stance.

Viper sneered. "What's this? Trying to intimidate me, Nine? Are we fighting now?"

"Ay." Regan put on her mask. Then she ripped the the nine dots off sown into the fabric off and tossed them over her shoulder. "I don't follow pretender captains."

Viper's whole body went tense as a wire. After months of simpering and bowing down for Drax, it was the last thing he expected to hear, and it felt damn good saying. Letting Divine seep into her fingertips felt even better.

Viper stepped forward, brandishing a dagger. "You will leave," he growled, "over my dead –"

An arrow sprouted through his chest. Regan reeled back. She whipped around to find three knights facing her, arrows at the ready.