Grondi Dragonscale's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Three days after the dragon fell, the glow had not faded. Grondi knelt by a cold stream and clawed at his chestplate. The scales would not lift. They had sunk into his skin, warm and fixed, like roots. He pulled until his fingers bled. The armor held. Mordecai Blackthorne watched from the trees, leaning on his staff. "You can't tear it off," Mordecai said. "It's part of you now. Fight it and the power only digs deeper." "Then tell me how to get it off." Grondi stood. His breath came hard. "You said you knew what this was. So fix it." "I know one who might." Mordecai pointed through the trees. A dark castle rose against the sky, all sharp spires and cracked stone. "There's a door behind that gate. What lies past it can loosen the scales. But the doorkeeper decides who passes." They crossed to the gate. A skeleton stood before a tall stone door carved with twisting lines. He wore a black suit, neat and old. His bony fingers rested on the frame. He looked Grondi over with empty sockets. "Name," the skeleton said. "Grondi Dragonscale. I need through." The skeleton did not move. "Not on the list." "Then change it." "I don't make the list." His jaw clicked shut. He turned his skull toward the road, the way he turned it for everyone he sent back. Grondi stepped closer. The glow at his chest brightened. The skeleton flinched, the first thing that had moved him. He stared at the burning scales. "That light," the skeleton said slowly. "The list changed. New names. One of them carries a dragon's fire." He looked at Grondi again, searching. "Maybe you. Maybe not. I wasn't told." "Bittamen," Mordecai said. The skeleton stiffened at his own name. "You know who rewrote your list. Let him through, and you'll learn where the others went." Bittamen stood still a long moment. Then his hand dropped from the door. "Go," he said. "But I never saw you." The stone door swung inward on its own. Cold air poured out. Grondi stepped through into dark. The glow lit the walls. Then the scales flared white, and pain ripped across his chest. He fell to his knees. The armor cracked along every seam. For one breath it loosened, floating off his shoulders. He grabbed the helm and pulled. It came free. He tore the chestplate loose and flung it down. The fused scales lifted away in sheets. But the light did not stay in the armor. It poured out of the bare metal and into his skin, sinking under his ribs. The glow burned now inside him, with no shell to hold it. The armor lay empty on the stone, cold and dull. Mordecai knelt and touched it. "You're free of the armor," he said quietly. "But the power found a better home. It's in your flesh now. There's no taking it off."