Book 3: Chapter 45: Brix Ate Too Much
Arthur experienced a second shock when he realized his body lay on a bare sliver edge of the cot’s mattress. A hard bulk pressed into his back.
Joy climbed into my cot again, he thought irritably.
Arthur shoved his arm back. His elbow hit hard, unyielding scales.
“What’s that noise?” came Cressida’s thick voice from somewhere on the other side of the room, from her bed. She sounded about as bad as Arthur felt.
He could have sworn he had just closed his eyes to sleep a moment ago, but when he forced his eyelids open, he saw light peeking out from around the balcony curtain. It was daytime. He’d been asleep for hours, at least.
And still, that shrill alarm was going off. Ugh.
Arthur didn’t even have room to turn around without falling off the cot. So, reluctantly, he slid off in a controlled fall to the floor. Then he finally looked back.
It hadn’t been Joy pushing him off the mattress after all.
“Brix?” he breathed.
His dragon was huge.
Well, not huge for even a purple. But the bulk of his body was about the size of a small donkey – the same ones that used to pull Red’s cart when Arthur rode with them on the caravan. His tail was again the same length and so long that it flopped off the other end of the cot.
It wasn’t just that he had grown. He had also visibly matured, with plates of hard scales like armor down the length of his spine and over his elbow, wrist, knee, and ankle joints. Those covering scales were mat-black and curved at the edges into vicious points. The rest of the scales covering his body had a shimmery black with an iridescent purple sheen to them. There were flashes of true royal purple between the larger scales as if the dark covered his purple skin.
Scales curved into points on the sides of his jaw which had also lengthened. His nose looked pointier and more vicious.
Even asleep, and somewhat undersized, he still was an intimidating dragon.
“Brix,” Arthur breathed. “Look at you. You’ve grown! Brix, wake up.”
But the dragon didn’t so much as stir. Not even when Arthur reached to shake him.
He felt the weight of him now – he easily weighed as much as Arthur himself. Considering dragons usually remained lighter than they looked to get up in the air, that was substantial.
“What? Brixaby?” came Cressida’s voice from the other side of the mattress. She sat up and stared.
Joy’s head popped up from behind her rider. She looked equally as shocked.
“He’s not waking up.” Arthur reached for the link between himself and his dragon but found it strong, sure, and steady. No sign of sickness or distress.
“Wow, he’s big now,” Joy said, adding, “Not as big as me. But still really big. Half the size of a normal purple, maybe? So not pink-big but—”
“What happened?” Cressida asked.
“Brix ate the Legendary card.” Arthur frowned and stroked a hand down his dragon’s back. “He’s breathing fine, and his temperature isn’t up.”
“He’s probably digesting the magic,” Joy said. “You know how if you eat a really big meal and then you feel really, really sleepy and—”
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“But what’s that noise?” Cressida asked. “Are those alarms?” She seemed groggy still. Arthur finally peeled his eyes away from Brixaby to take a good look at her. Dark circles ringed under her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept for a week rather than having just woken up. And, more unusually, she was a beat or two behind Arthur.
He saw the moment the realization clicked. Her eyes widened and she hissed, “Do you think the alarms could be—do you think the council’s discovered what we’ve done?”
“At least that the combat cards are missing,” Arthur confirmed grimly. “They’d have guards at our door if they thought it was us.”
“Then we must act as normal as possible.” Cressida started to get up but wavered on her feet.
Joy squawked in alarm and pushed her head and neck forward to brace her.
“You haven’t recovered yet,” Arthur said. “Sit back down and stay with Brix.” He glanced down again at his dragon. Despite his anxiety, he got the strong impression that he wasn’t in danger. Just processing the magic. Considering it was a Legendary card, that meant a lot of magic.
But it was inconvenient. If his suspicions were correct, this was going to be awkward timing.
Cressida sat, but still protested. “Arthur, no—”
“I’m the Legendary rider, which means I can speak for us. I’ll just say Brixaby is out crafting or something—”
“I’ll go with you,” Joy offered.
Arthur shook his head. “No, I need you to protect Brixaby while he’s sleeping. He’s too vulnerable right now. In fact…”
Arthur reached into his card anchor, pulled out his 20 Point Boost card, and shoved it at the still protesting Cressida. “Put this in your card anchor. If the worst happens, use it.”
He rose and turned to the balcony.
Halfway there, he felt something different in the room. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on. His eyes told him nothing had changed. His ears didn’t catch a sound.
But the difference – the dissonance in the air – resonated with his stealth class.
On instinct, Arthur looked at the curtain that had been drawn across the mouth of the cave. The one he now knew was an illusion.
“Hello, Ghost.”
Abruptly, the dragon flickered into view.
He had stuck his head under the curtain and was looking around. From his expression, Arthur guessed he hadn’t heard much of the previous conversation. If they were lucky, he’d just arrived.
“How did you know I was here?” Ghost demanded and then looked past Arthur, grumpy expression blanking in shock. “Is that Brixaby? What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?”
“He ate too much,” Joy said.
That gave Arthur a seed of an idea. “He fed on the card shards we’ve been collecting over the last few weeks. It’s taking a while for him to digest.”
Ghost gave him a flatly disbelieving look. Only then did Arthur remember Laird said Ghost was the one who tipped them off. Had he followed them under stealth? Whose side was he on? The Council? Laird?
The dragon seemed to be on the verge of calling out his lie. Or, perhaps he had reported to Laird last night and not followed up. Either way, he glanced again at Brixaby and scowled.
“He ate shards--? And that’s what’s made him grow? Well, he can sleep it off some other time. Chablis and the rest of the council need him. And you,” he added, as an afterthought.
“Why?” Arthur asked. “Does it have to do with that racket outside?”
“Those are alarms, foolish boy. And I don’t ask questions of the council—”
Another deep dragon voice echoed from outside. “There’s been an attack on our hive.”
Ghost withdrew his head to look out. Arthur followed him past the curtain. Sure enough, Laird stood outside, claws half dug into the stony wall to keep balance. There wasn’t enough room on the balcony for two full-grown dragons.
“So, the rumors are true then?” Ghost asked Laird, flicking his tongue out in distaste.
Laird didn’t look at him. His yellow eyes were fixed intently on Arthur. “There was an attack last night,” he said heavily. “From, we believe, another hive. The dragon you arrived with, Shadow, was unfortunately killed.”
Joy let out an overly dramatic gasp from back inside the cave. “What? Shadow! Oh no, not him. I’m so surprised—”
Cressida hushed her.
Thankfully, Ghost didn’t seem to be paying much attention. His attention was fixed on Laird. “Which hive? Which kingdom?”
“Another Free Hive,” Laird said.
Ghost rocked back. “That can’t be possible—”
“They’ve sent an emissary to take responsibility for the killing,” Laird said, still looking intently at Arthur, “and have come to negotiate our surrender.”
“What makes them think we’ll accept that?” Arthur asked.
“They seem to be under the impression,” Laird said, still staring hard at Arthur, “That the dragon they killed was a Legendary.”
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