Dylan struggled and called on his magic. But at the last second he held back, realizing that if he used his power he was really sunk. No way would the council go easy on him.
It took all his self-control to lie on the ground while a cop kneeled on his back and snapped handcuffs on him. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Even with all the stupid rules in the treaty, they still had free speech.
“We’ll figure that out later.”
Two more cops came up, and they half dragged Dylan through the chaos toward the police station, which was right next to city hall. They threw him in a cell, ignoring his objections. There were two other cells to the right of him, and soon all three cells were full of protestors.
Some of them had been paralyzed by spells. The way the cops practically dumped them on the floor made Dylan wish he’d fought back. Both of Dalton’s parents had been caught and they paced in the farthest cell.
A few stragglers were brought in. Apparently things had died down outside. The rest of the crowd had scattered, and order had been restored. Dylan contemplated the bars, wondering if he could make a fire hot enough to burn through them.
It was over an hour before they allowed him to make a phone call. An unfamiliar fear gripped him as he picked up the old-fashioned receiver. Mom would be so disappointed, and for a change, that bothered him.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.” Dylan swallowed. “I’m in jail.”
Their conversation was short, the cop standing next to him urging Dylan to hurry up. It gave him an excuse to get off the phone and cut the lecture short.
No, delay it. Dylan was sure to get the full speech later.
Back in his cell, he watched other people get taken to make their calls. A few people didn’t come back, and the cops said they’d been released. Dylan didn’t think he’d be so lucky.
He’d riled up the crowd and given the finger to the wardens. If they were going to make an example, Dylan would be at the top of the list. So would Dalton’s parents.
“This is so unfair.” Dylan dropped onto one of the narrow cots, trying not to freak out. He technically hadn’t done anything wrong, but would that stop the council from punishing him? They’d been looking for an excuse to lock him up for years, and now they had it.
“I’m sorry you got caught,” Dalton’s mom said. She gripped the bars on the closest side of the cell. “They targeted us because we spoke.”
“We’re the ringleaders.” Why had he come to this stupid protest? Now he’d ruined everything. They’d put him in prison, maybe forever.
“You spoke because we asked you to. What happened wasn’t your fault,” Dalton’s mom said.
“Don’t worry,” Dalton’s dad said. “Everything will work out.”
A while later Dylan’s parents showed up—with Mr. Johnson. Great. The night kept getting better and better. Mom had her lips pressed together. Definitely not her usual calm. Dad looked really upset.
A cop opened the door, glaring at Dylan. “Come on.”
His parents and Mr. Johnson barely said a word to him as Dylan was marched to a desk where Mom signed paperwork and they handed Dylan back his things, including his phone. The message light was blinking. Probably Aiden trying to get ahold of him.
Dylan didn’t really believe they were letting him go until he walked out of the station.
“I hope you’re aware of how serious this is,” Mom said as they got to the car.
Dylan opened his mouth to argue, but instead he said simply, “Yeah.” He climbed into the backseat.
Mr. Johnson got in on the other side. “I pulled a lot of strings to get you out of there. I’m not sure I can get them to drop the charges.”
“What charges?” Dylan had to know.
“Agitation. Starting a riot. Resisting arrest.”
“I did not!” Dylan clenched his fists. “That’s a fucking lie. They grabbed me, and I let them cuff me. I didn’t use magic. I didn’t fight back or anything.” He imagined knocking the cops down, changing into his dragon form, and flying away. Not looking back. That sounded so appealing right now.
All the way home, he got to listen to a lecture in surround sound.
* * *
Aiden paced in front of Dylan’s house and looked up when he heard a car coming down the road. His heart hammered. Only minutes ago he’d gotten a text:
Went to the protest. Sorry. Got arrested. Going home now. I’m fine.
Aiden’s dad had taken him home from school and then driven him to Dylan’s house when he got the message. In his head, Aiden found a hundred ways to call Dylan an idiot while he tried to keep his anxiety under control.
Dylan climbed out of the backseat, wearing an epic scowl. He looked fine, physically at least. Mr. Johnson got out on the other side, but Aiden barely noticed him.
“I got your text. God… why did you go? What did you do to get arrested?” Arrested. Dylan was already being watched by the wardens. Would he go to prison? Would they find out about what he’d done? Selfishly, Aiden wondered if his involvement would come up and if he’d get in trouble too.
Would he go to prison for lying? Aiden was still a minor, so out in the regular world he would probably get community service or something, but the rules were different here.
Dylan glared. “I didn’t do anything.” But his gaze slid away, and he looked at the ground.
Dylan’s mom—Bryn—looked between them. “Maybe he’ll listen to you. Why don’t you go up to his room?”
Aiden followed Dylan upstairs. His friend didn’t say anything until his bedroom door was closed behind them.
“I didn’t do anything,” Dylan repeated. “Just talked.”
“Talked?” Aiden pulled out the gaming chair, trying to breathe normally.
“In front of the crowd. Sort of a speech thing.” Dylan rubbed his hands on his thighs.
Aiden’s heart dropped. “Oh God, what did you say?”
Anger flashed across his face. “We still have free speech. They can’t arrest me for talking.”
That only made Aiden sure he’d said something awful. Had he threatened the wardens?
Dylan’s expression softened a little, maybe as he saw something on Aiden’s face. “I said some stuff about those wardens kidnapping me and how everyone treats me like a criminal for being dragonkin.” He looked away again. “And I um, sort of said, ‘Fuck the wardens’ and gave them the finger.”
Aiden pressed a hand to his stomach, feeling sick. “Why? Why did you even go? You promised me you wouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have, and I probably screwed up everything, but I felt like I had to go. For the first time I thought maybe things could change. People are mad enough for something to happen, and I’m so sick of being stuck here, and now that damn warden is breathing down my neck all day…”
Aiden had a lot of other questions, but most of them wouldn’t make a difference. The most important question was… “How much trouble are you in?”
“I don’t know. I think mostly they were trying to scare me. Us. Did you know Dalton’s parents were there?”
Aiden shook his head, surprised. But it made sense. Their son had been killed by evil wardens, so they might blame all wardens.
“They got arrested too. And they made a speech. It was, uh, worse than mine.” Dylan glanced at him. “Did you hear what happened?”
“Kids at school said there was some kind of riot.” And when Aiden still couldn’t get ahold of Dylan… Well, he’d spent some time in Mr. Emery’s office. The councilor had offered to call his parents to come take him home. At first Aiden hadn’t wanted to bother them and make one of them leave work, but as time passed and his anxiety built, he called his dad. “But they were probably exaggerating, right?” Aiden really, really hoped so.
But his hopes were dashed by the look Dylan gave him. “I’m not really sure it was an actual riot, but someone threw a bottle and things went pretty nuts. People were throwing around spells, but I don’t know if that was just the wardens or if people were fighting back.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t use any magic, I swear. I was trying to leave when the damn cops arrested me.”
That made Aiden a tiny bit relieved. Dylan had mentioned that attacking a warden was instant prison time. Maybe there was some hope of Dylan getting out of this without too much punishment.
Aiden coaxed more details of the story from Dylan, and it sounded pretty bad. If the wardens had it out for Dylan, they sure had some ammo now. And if they wanted to discourage further protests, making an example of Dylan would be a clear statement. Of course, that might make things worse.
If people were already mad enough to protest and throw things at wardens, what would happen if they threw a town hero in prison?
“But they let you out?” Aiden asked. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Dylan shrugged. “I’m out on bail. It’s not like I have anywhere to run, right? And if I do, the wardens have a perfect excuse to kill me.”
They were just words, but it felt like a punch to the gut. “Don’t talk like that.” Especially since they both knew the harsh reality of such a statement.
Some of the anger dropped away, and Dylan just looked lost. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t even know if they’re gonna let me in school on Monday.”