Read Online Gentle Chains (The Eleyi Saga Book 1) by Nazarea Andrews - Free Book Online Page B

made
of shadow and smoke and flame looms above me, wild and gorgeous.
    Draken. What
humans once called dragons—that is the closest description anyone could find of
the dangerous creatures made of mist and fire.
    Without realizing it, my weapon has dropped, the hook digging into the
dust of the arena floor. The draken regards me solemnly, a heavy presence
brushing my mind. I shudder under the psychic assault, almost falling.
    Then it belches fire. My wings and hair ignite and I scream.
    I fall into a crouch as heat burrows into me, and then it’s gone, faster
than it came, and I’m left hunched, blinking in the suddenly bright, empty
room. Deevid and Kristoff stand to one side, watching me like I’m a fascinating
insect. I lick my lips and demand, “What the hell was that?”
    Kristoff frowns, and but doesn’t say anything about my impertinence.
Deevid answers instead, “That’s a holostim, Brielle. A simulated test to see
how you’d fare in the arena.”
    I straighten slowly, back aching. “And how did I do?”
    Kristoff shrugs, “Better than I’d expect. Until you saw the draken and
froze. Not the brightest move if you’d like to survive long. Aside from that,
you have a natural talent—it’s raw but there.”
    I look away, embarrassed. How do I explain that seeing a draken was like
seeing a god, a creature of ancient legend, alive and breathing? Breathing
fire, no less.
    “I was startled,” I tell him.
    “She’ll make a good glad,” Deevid says, “And a pretty picture on the
sands, with those wings. She’s savage enough to last a while”.”
    “But?” Kristoff prompts, and the old Pente squints at me.
    “But she’d make a better trainer. Even in the holostim, the draken
hesitated at the sight of her,” he says at last.
    Kristoff makes a frustrated noise, and shakes his head. “Ja Argot won’t
agree to that after he sees her fight. He won’t hide her in the cages when he
will make money in the arena.”
    “Do you want to live?” Deevid asks without preamble and I blink. His
mind is rough, but not completely uncaring, and there is genuine interest, as
if I’m a challenge that he’d like to puzzle with.
    “Of course,” I say, working my way through his emotions.
    “Then become something the Ja has never shown the audiences,” he says,
and I frown, glancing at Kristoff. His eyes are distant. Deevid’s advice has
given him reason to think.
    The old man turns and re-enters the tiny shop. “A whip and tips for
those wings. She won’t fly, but they can be weapons if she uses them properly.
And that hurkya—it’ll give her a longer reach, which she’ll need in the arena.”
    “Armor?” Kristoff asks quietly.
    Deevid pauses, looks back at me. “When she’s done training, contact me.
I’ll send what she needs. Including her wings.”
    As Kristoff holds out his wrist for the arms dealer to scan, my mentor
grins, startling and young. “How many of the others have been by?”
    Deevid snorts, scans Kristoff’s wrist, pulling creds from the embedded
chip. “Three today. But I’ve only seen one other new slave. A bat-winged
fellow. Watch him; he’ll be fodder on the sands.”
    With that rather dismal assessment, he hands over my newly purchased
weapons and I follow Kristoff back to the boarding house.

 
    I’m sore. So unbelievably sore. A bruise has blossomed on my shoulder
where I landed when the hukron charged me and it hurts to breathe. When I woke
up this morning, I didn’t think I could hurt any more. Now, two hours before
dinner, I know I was wrong.
      Kristoff stares at me with
indifference and I lift the wooden hook again. “I thought training didn’t begin
until we reached the jakta,” I say and Kristoff grins.
    “I’d be bored just sitting in the room, and this edge might save your
life.” He rushes me suddenly and my staff swings up, too late. His wooden
swords slaps across my neck, and I hack, trying to breathe. Kristoff sighs.
“Dead. Again.”
    My prowess the