Ajax stood outside of Dog’s stall, a dagger in hand. Dog poked his nose through the tarpaulin curtain for nuzzles, which Ajax had no time for.

“Be a good boy, all right?” Ajax knelt before the dragon and shoved his head away.

“My lord Ajax,” Camilla said as the high priests entered. Petros wrinkled his nose at the aerie’s smell. Camilla held up a handkerchief to mask the odor. She’d addressed him in the most condescending tone possible, and Ajax’s balls retracted a little. “Might we ask what prompted you to request our presence?”

“This.” Palms sweating, he held up the basilisk vial. He’d swiped it from Vespir. It hadn’t been hard. Neither priest spoke. “I know you murdered Emperor Erasmus. If the world found out, you’d suffer a death even worse than a chaotic’s, wouldn’t you?” He licked his lips. “But you don’t have to if you do as I say.”

“What, pray tell, must we do?” Camilla murmured. She didn’t sound so bold now.

“Two things.” He flipped his dagger in a shining arc, catching it by the handle. Just for show. “First, no matter who really wins, you crown me Emperor of Etrusia. And second, you pardon the other four from the Cut. Nobody dies.” He had to do this; the others would never understand, but he had to. There was no other way he could win, and that woman with her sad green eyes must find him on the dragon throne one day. The whole Tiber household must bow to him. Emperor Ajax, Ajax the Great. He must. He must.

Besides, he would still pardon the others. That was awful grand of him, right?

This was an Emperor’s Trial, after all.

“Those are your only demands?” Petros sounded wary.

“Do that, and I get rid of this vial. No one needs to know.”

“What led you to this theory?” Camilla asked. Smart. No confirmation.

“I have my sources. If I’m wrong, you can just walk out of here, can’t you? But you’re probably wondering what other proof I might have. Let’s say I do have it, and you won’t know what it is until I’m crowned and safe. This is your one chance to avoid execution. Take it.”

He pressed forward, a dragon. The dragon.

The priests exchanged unreadable glances.

“You’re right,” Camilla whispered. Her black eyes found him. “We did kill Erasmus.”

So close, so close to that golden line of glory.

The vial tumbled from his hand, and so did his dagger, both clattering to the floor at his feet. His body was a block of stone; he could not blink. When he tried to speak, not even a whimper emerged.

Oh. Oh, shit. He’d forgot about the damn stasis magic.

“But if you think we’d ever set a bastard upon the imperial throne, you are as ignorant as you are ugly,” Camilla finished. She grinned, showing her teeth. “What shall we do with him?”

“Hmm.” Petros stroked his chin. He touched the priestess on her shoulder with two fingers, gave a little shove. “It would not be the first time a competitor lost his nerve and took his own life.”

“We had one of those last time, didn’t we?” She chuckled. “Pentri?”

“No, Aurun. She poisoned herself. You recall finding the body?”

“The puffed face?” Camilla rolled her eyes back and stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth. Petros gave a high, whinnying laugh. It was, Ajax thought, like watching two old friends reminiscing. The fond camaraderie made him sick.

“Well, my dear. Does he go over the side, or do they find him in bed with his wrists slit?” Petros mused, pulling at his lip.

“Cutting him and getting him back into bed requires coordination, and we’re not young anymore, Pet.” Camilla tsked. “Send him over the edge. I’ll write a note and leave it on his pillow, though I must make sure to misspell a few words. He doesn’t strike me as the bookish sort.”

Ajax’s eyes stung from staying open. Move. He had to move! Help me! I’m an idiot!

“Whatever was the Dragon thinking when he sent us this runt?” Petros clucked his tongue and walked toward Ajax. “I’ll lift him, if you get the feet.”

Ajax wanted to scream, run, and throw himself into Vespir’s room to hide under her bed. She was the first one he thought of for protection, more so even than Lucian or Hyperia.

I’m never going to get to tell her how sorry I am.

As Petros drew nearer, a shape lunged out of the stall to Ajax’s left. Dog threw himself between the priest and the boy, and this time the dragon did not gawp.

He roared.

Petros and Camilla screamed as the dragon’s cry trembled the rafters. Dog expanded his wings, and his tail lashed to signal aggression, breaking a wooden stool against the wall. The dragon must’ve shaken their concentration, because Ajax could move again. He dashed the tears from his cheeks, swiped his dagger, and climbed aboard. Without a saddle, he felt the baking heat of Dog’s body, the rumble of his fire-acid stomach.

“Fly, boy,” he whispered. Dog lifted off the ground. Two flaps, and they were out of the aerie, the priests’ astonished faces rapidly diminishing. Ajax looked to the stars above, tried to think. He had to run first and then find some avenue of getting back here and warning the others of his mistake. Mistake? No, his damned idiotic notion—

“No!”

Ajax gripped Dog’s neck as the dragon stiffened and plummeted ten feet to the ground. Mercifully, they landed on the runway and didn’t plunge to their deaths. Ajax dismounted and tugged at his dragon’s face. No. No.

Dog was frozen; they’d locked him into stasis. He whimpered faintly, so apparently their hold on him was weaker than on Ajax. Just not weak enough. Ajax touched the dragon’s face.

“Fight. You can get out of this,” he whispered as the priests exited the door. Ajax crouched, dagger in hand. “Come on!”

“As if we’d engage in knife fights,” Camilla scoffed. She gave a low whistle.

The night exploded with a uniform line of guards running in lockstep. In perfect formation, they surrounded him with their swords unsheathed. Numb, Ajax’s dagger fell to his side.

“It’s always best to be prepared.” Camilla’s smile was acidic. “Your note gave us some pause.”

Ajax played what few bad cards he had left. Fear ruptured his mind.

“She poisoned Emperor Erasmus! They both did!” he screeched, looking around at the soldiers. A circle of expressionless eyes watched him from beneath shadowed helms. “They used basilisk tears! Ask the cook! She thought it was medicine and put it into the emperor’s stew!”

“Ah, Hestia.” Camilla clucked her tongue. “Poor woman. Such terrible eyesight. Makes so many easy mistakes.”

Ajax realized that he had now doomed the cook as well. He was stomping on innocent lives left and right. Frantic, he struggled to rebound. He had to be persuasive, smart, smarter than the damn priests.

“I, I mean, maybe she did. Maybe I made it up! To, uh…” He’d cratered everything around him, his words more destructive than a chaotic’s touch.

“Arrest him,” Petros said. Guards seized Ajax and pulled him away from Dog. The creature was still able to move his protruding eyes; they swiveled to track Ajax’s every movement. More whimpers poured from the dragon’s throat.

“I’m telling the truth!” Ajax wailed. “I…I have proof!”

“Proof is nothing to power.” Petros gestured to one of the guards. “The dragon.”

The guard obeyed without hesitation. Dog whined as the man stood before him, sword at the ready.

Ajax could not breathe. Dog. The colorful, bug-eyed, gawping, idiot love of his stupid life whined as the man lifted his sword…

“Stop! Stop!” Ajax didn’t care if he sobbed now. He would have crawled to the priests if they let him. “I made it all up! Just don’t…don’t do this! Not Dog! Please, not my dragon!”

The last word came out as a ragged shriek. Ajax would hear it echoing for the rest of his life.

“The eyes,” Petros said simply.

Dog whimpered.

Ajax screamed as the soldier sliced through the dragon’s protruding eyes with two clean strokes.

Wild with pain, Dog must have become too much for the priests to hold. He stampeded forward, bellowing in agony as his wings flared and receded. His head whipped side to side, drops of blood spattering onto the ground like a cruel rain. Dog began to wipe his poor head along the flagstones, as if all he needed was to get the blood out of his eyes to see again. He did not spew fire, and in his gut Ajax knew it was on his account. Dog would never do anything to hurt his rider. Not ever.

Ajax could not move. He was helpless.

No emperor, no Ajax Sarkonus. Just a fifteen-year-old boy.

“Dog.” He wept. The dragon gave a low, mournful cry as he hopped forward. The guards stayed out of his way, and the priests laughed.

“Such a noble creature,” Camilla drawled. “So, my lord Ajax? What have you to say now?”

Ajax could not see through his tears. He could not speak.

Someone broke through the crowd of soldiers. A protective wall of a boy stood in front of Ajax.

“What have you done?” Lucian shouted.