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At these words my bravado wavers. I manage to snatch it back and demand through the wall, “So what? You don’t have any hope at all? You’ve just quit? Accepted your lot in here?”

“No, I haven’t quit.” He sounds indignant now. Better that than the draki on the other side of me that sounds half mad with incessant whispering. “I’m just trying to stay sane and alive down here. The friend you’re calling—Miram? She gave up a long time ago.”

I shake my head. “You’re content to live out your days here?”

“It’s living.”

“Hardly. We’re breaking out of here,” I vow. “Just watch.”

The grating laughter returns. “Well, if that happens, I’ll be close on your heels.”

I lower back to the cold floor, resting my legs that still feel as insubstantial as jelly. I eye what I can see of the room on the other side of the Plexiglas: the long observation desk, various cameras positioned at every corner. The few enkros in the room talk in low voices. They seem to be in the process of deciding something. One lab coat glances at his watch and motions to all of us lined up in our cells. Another lab coat looks at me pointedly and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing about something.

I lean to the side until my shoulder touches the Plexiglas. I try to decipher their muffled voices, sure that whatever they’re talking about has to do with me. I need to be ready.

More enkros arrive, and the ones behind the observation table practically bow and scrape before them.

I’m taking it all in, when another draki speaks, her young voice carrying from a couple cells over.

“If
they
don’t get you, the gray one will.”

She sounds just like a child
, I think, angling my head. “What do you mean?”

“If the enkros don’t finish you, then he will.” She pronounces
he
like I should understand her meaning. “The gray one.”

“Who’s the ‘gray one’?”

“Oh, he’s mean. He’s been here longer than any of us.” She makes a sniffing sound. “Probably why he’s so nasty. You gotta stay away from him.”

“What is he?” I’ve never heard of a gray draki before. He must possess a talent I don’t know about. Instead of fear, excitement quivers through me … to meet other draki, learn about a draki I never even knew existed. It’s not something I considered coming here. Too many other thoughts consumed me.

“You better hope you don’t find out. Just stay out of his way. Hide.”

I’m about to ask when I would supposedly meet this draki—we’re kept in these cells, after all—when a low siren begins to ring and a flashing red light suffuses the room.

“What’s going on?” I demand, looking around wildly.

Even from my cell, I can hear the draki scrambling to their feet. In the back of my mind, I wonder if Miram moves, too. Or is she still a lump on the floor of her cell?

“Get ready!” the male draki who spoke to me commands.

Ready? Ready for what?

Even so, my muscles tighten and bunch beneath my flesh. Suddenly the back side of my cell slides open. The wall isn’t a wall at all. It just drops down into the floor like a car window, revealing a lush world of vegetation.

There are several whooshes of wind as other draki flee through the air and disappear into the thick vegetation. They’re gone in a blink, ghosts on the air, lost in foliage humming with life, too fast for me to process them or identify if Miram is among them.

I edge forward carefully, not sure what to expect. As soon as I clear the threshold of my cell, it slides shut after me. No going back.

I release a breath slowly, flexing my bare feet in the soil. It’s just me. No other draki in sight. Not even useless curled-up-in-a-ball Miram. But I know they’re all out there, in this vast simulation of a forest.

What are the enkros doing? What are they hoping to accomplish? I glance around, scanning the thick press of trees, and that’s when I spot them. Cameras. Everywhere. Perched high in the leaves of a tree. In the knothole of a trunk. I doubt there is an inch of this mock forest they cannot see.

Which makes me wonder what they’re expecting to film. Us interacting? Because as far as I can tell, no one is interacting. Everyone is … hiding.

At this realization everything inside of me seizes up. I remember the warning about the gray draki.

Stay away from him
…

Out of his way
…

Hide
…

Just like everyone is doing now. Except me. Suddenly I know I shouldn’t be standing out in the open like this. Too late, a growl rumbles across the crisp air, and a second realization steals over me.

I’m not alone.

He’s gray. Just like the draki girl described. A slate gray like liquid steel, quite possibly the largest draki I’ve ever seen. He stands taller than the onyx back home. He’s obviously strong. Maybe fast, too. His wings are leathery, but an ashy color, spearing the air high above his massive shoulders. I don’t think he’s old, but then there’s something about his eyes … that pewter gaze contains such cunning, a savage menace that seems ancient.

Suddenly, I wish I’d asked more questions, demanded more answers from the girl when she’d been offering her advice.

“Hi,” I say, holding myself still, unsure what to do. My fingers tap my thighs in agitation. I’ve never come face-to-face with a draki who didn’t belong to my pride before. Historically, prides are fractious, warring tribes. That’s what led to the last Great War.

The old texts chronicled several hundred prides, too many to know for certain. We learned about them in school. I’d even read about some of the history in our librarian Taya’s tomes, fascinated with the time before the wars when the prides were united as one great nation.

As I stare at him, I accept that it shouldn’t be a shock to meet a new draki. I’ve always known they’re out there.

But it
is
a big deal. Every fiber of my being pulses with the instinct to fight, to defend. It’s the same reaction I had when the hunters pursued me, but I never thought I’d feel this way around another draki. It seems somehow sacrilegious. We’re the same, after all.

Oh, sure, there are the troublemakers like Miram, and even those that make me feel intimidated like Severin and Corbin. But facing off with this draki … this is different.

Now, in this moment, I feel as though my next move will signify life or death for me.

He doesn’t respond to my greeting. Ash and char rise in my throat and my muscles twist tighter, ready to spring into action.

Facing him, I’m reminded of a prison movie I watched long ago, lodged deep in my memory. It’s a strange sense of déjà vu. Like I’m cast into that movie. I’m the new inmate, standing in the yard, squaring off with the established bully.

I try to remember what the newbie did to survive because, of course, he’s the hero who makes it to the end. Just like I intend to. Or at least through the next twenty-four hours until my friends break us out of here.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I say.

The draki makes a strange noise, a guttural rattling sound in his throat that I’ve never heard from another draki before, and I wonder if it’s some kind of battle call. As I watch him, his scaly flesh seems to undulate and shiver.

“W-what are you doing?” I ask, knowing it could be anything. I don’t know what power he possesses. Whatever it is, it’s enough to send other draki into hiding.

I slide back a step over the moist ground, my gaze fastened on him, afraid to look away.

Suddenly his scales flip
up
. Every inch of him is covered in sharp-edged disks perpendicular to his massive body. They glint razor-sharp and I know one brush against him will cut me to ribbons.

My stomach drops. In a flash of clarity, I know why the others fled the minute the doors slid open.

With a muttered curse, I swing around and push off the ground in one smooth move, deciding that the others had the right idea. I need to get away from this draki. Fast.

Instantly, I’m lost in the roar of wind as I whip through the bramble of trees. I hear him crashing behind me. I’m quick but so is he.
Go, go, go, go
pants from my lips in an endless mantra.

The idea of him catching me, slamming his razor-sharp body into mine, fills me with a fear so intense that fire builds in my lungs and coats my mouth. And I know there is no choice. I have to stand and defend myself.

I stop midair and twirl around, my wings great flapping sails behind me—but nothing like his that tear through the air, creating sharp drafts of wind that rip the leaves from the trees.

As he comes at me, I build and gather the heat inside me, knowing that no little warning puff of steam will suffice. For him, I need fire. Killing flames.

When he’s close—his face so near I can see the hard, relentless lines of his features, the ridged nose and flaring nostrils—I release the tremendous burn of heat from inside me.

It bursts forth in a maelstrom of angry, crackling flame.

He drops to the side and under me, narrowly missing the full brunt.

I spin, looking beneath me, and see him coming back, surging straight up. The gleam in his eyes tells me he’s not intimidated by my talent. If anything, it gratifies him.

Maybe that freaks me out the most. Fire doesn’t scare him? Does he want to be burned? Does he have a death wish?

Realizing I know nothing about how this draki will react, I dive, fly low to the ground, looking over my shoulder. And, yes, he’s behind me again, relentlessly pursuing me. I don’t stop this time. I shoot fire backward, over my shoulder.

He swerves in my trail, determined to catch me. It’s like there isn’t anything but the savage inside him, the dragon of old, not a shred of humanity. He wants to destroy me.

My teeth clamp hard in my mouth and I push myself faster.

My thoughts race. I know what I have to do. I drop until I touch down, and then I flip onto my back and wait, the smolder brewing inside me, the grass soft and yielding beneath me as I stare at the draki coming at me. Steam escapes from my nose. His gaze follows that steam before locking with my eyes. There’s satisfaction in that gleaming pewter … and I get the sneaking suspicion that this satisfaction is not because he’s convinced that he’s about to kill me.
No. He wants me to win
. He wants me to beat him. So he’ll be free of this place.

Just as he’s about to reach me, we’re swarmed.

The enkros invade the simulated forest, a dozen of them garbed head to toe in white suits that make them look like spacemen. I’m grabbed by the arms and dragged away. I struggle—it’s my instinct to do so. Even if they are rescuing me from some hell-bent killer draki. Or rescuing him from me. I’m not sure which is the case.

“What are you doing?” I shout at them. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Don’t you want us to kill each other? C’mon! C’mon!” I thrash in their arms, blowing fire that does nothing as it bounces off their fire-resistant suits.

Several of them surround the gray draki. Even in their suits, they don’t lay a hand on him, and I guess it’s because he’d rip straight through the special material of their protective gear.

They stab him with a sharp stick—and then I realize it’s no stick. It’s an electric rod like the one they used on me. However it doesn’t seem to have any effect on him. Maybe it doesn’t penetrate? Or maybe he’s just too strong to care?

And it’s there, rising inside me, unbelievable maybe, but true nonetheless. Pity.

He snarls and growls, howling as they stab him repeatedly. Yet he never drops. He’s been Tased again and again and it doesn’t faze him.

God, what
is
he?

Then I’m back in my cell and the wall is sliding shut, sealing me in. I’m all alone, shuddering with great smoking breaths.

And I can’t see anything anymore.

3

“H
ey, Jacinda!” The loud whisper penetrates my fog of thoughts. It’s the young female draki who spoke to me before. “You okay in there?”

Lying sideways on the floor, still dazed from my brush with death, I crack one eye open. The fight with a kamikaze draki left me shaken, inside and out. Physically drained. Mentally exhausted. And I haven’t even been here an hour. Or have I? Every moment drags on in agony.

I sit up slowly, rubbing the side of my face. “Yeah. I’m fine. What’s your name?” I ask, figuring it’s time I knew.

The voice calls to me again. “I’m Lia.” Even through the walls I can hear her youth and innocence. “I’ve never met a fire-breather before.”

I don’t bother pointing out that we haven’t actually met. “No? What kind of draki are you?”

“I’m a water draki. For about six months anyway.”

A water draki like Az
. A pang strikes near my heart as I think of my friend back home. I remind myself that this isn’t the end, even though in just a short amount of time, this world, my role as a captive, has consumed me. It feels like everything. It feels as though I’ve been stuck down here for days. What must it be like for the others who’ve been trapped so much longer? I remember the gray draki … the hunger for death in his eyes, and I guess I know what it would be like. Then Lia’s last words sink in. Six months?