“To bind.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe also to negotiate.”
He looked at the Wyrm.
“You want to negotiate with that?”
Elara looked up.
The creature ripped a tower roof away.
“I’m open to better ideas.”
Alaric had none.
They climbed the western tower.
Everyone called them insane.
Correctly.
The Captain tried stopping them.
Alaric picked him up, placed him gently aside, and kept walking.
At the highest platform, wind nearly threw Elara over the edge.
Alaric anchored her with one arm.
The Wyrm turned.
Its enormous eye focused on them.
Elara’s knees nearly failed.
“You said it was bound by my ancestors.”
“Yes.”
“Did they ever speak to it?”
“No idea.”
“Excellent.”
The creature opened its jaws.
White fire gathered.
Alaric stepped in front.
Elara shoved past him.
“What are you doing?”
“Being difficult.”
The Wyrm inhaled.
Elara screamed into the storm.
“I RELEASED YOU!”
Nothing.
The jaws opened wider.
“ELARA!”
She raised both hands.
“I AM NOT YOUR JAILER!”
The white fire stopped growing.
The Wyrm stared.
Alaric froze.
Elara continued.
“My family helped bind you.”
The creature’s eye narrowed.
“I cannot undo that history.”
Thunder rolled.
“But I can refuse to repeat it.”
The Wyrm lowered its head slightly.
Alaric whispered, “It understands.”
“I hope so.”
Elara swallowed.
“You want revenge?”
The creature growled.
The tower shook.
“Then take it from the dead kings who made the pact.”
Alaric murmured, “They’re dead.”
“Helpful.”
She continued.
“But the people below did not bind you.”
The Wyrm’s eye shifted toward the courtyard.
Thousands had gathered.
Soldiers.
Servants.
Nobles.
Civilians fleeing through gates.
Elara’s voice cracked.
“Neither did he.”
She touched Alaric.
The Wyrm looked at him.
Something strange passed between them.
Recognition.
Same power.
Different prison.
Alaric stepped forward.
His voice became deeper.
“You were made a monster by stories.”
Elara looked at him.
He was speaking to both of them.
Alaric continued.
“So was I.”
The Wyrm lowered its massive head.
Close enough that wind from its breath tore at Elara’s dress.
One gigantic nostril flared.
Alaric stood beside her.
Elara took his clawed hand.
The Wyrm looked at their joined hands.
Then at the palace.
Then toward the western mountains.
It screamed once.
Not rage.
Freedom.
The storm split.
Clouds opened above the western horizon.
The Wyrm spread vast wings hidden along its serpentine body.
One beat nearly threw them from the tower.
Then it rose.
Higher.
Higher.
Black against silver clouds.
Until it disappeared west.
The storm followed.
Within minutes, sunlight touched Blackthorn Palace for the first time in days.
Elara started laughing.
Alaric stared at the sky.
“You negotiated with a dragon.”
“Wyrm.”
“Do not become technical now.”