THE GLASS FLATS CIRCLED THE edge of Drakopolis, beyond the districts of skyscrapers and apartment blocks, past the factories and warehouses and the high-rise farms.

Once, the Flats were a great sand desert. Before that, they were a lush wilderness, or so the stories said. But back in the Before, when the dragons were wild and there were no people in the world, the unruly monsters of the sky feasted on the animals and the insects and the trees and the grasses. They glutted themselves on everything they saw until there was nothing left and the wilderness became sand. Then they began to devour each other. As they fought and bled and fought some more, their fiery breath burned the sand to glass, creating a smooth and lifeless waste. The dragons nearly drove themselves to extinction.

The few survivors, mad and starved and surrounded by an endless desert of colorful glass, would have died off too, if they hadn’t been saved by the humans who arrived—the stories never said where the humans came from or what they’d been up to before.

The humans founded the city of Drakopolis and pacified the dragons—the stories never explained how—and they built a home where all would have plenty of food and shelter. Humanity saved the dragons and made them useful, and by being useful, the dragons found peace.

Dragons must be given purpose, the stories said, so they don’t fall to warring again. They must be given jobs and kept busy serving humanity, the stories said, for their own safety.

So the stories said.

It was all a long time ago, but even now when it came time for dragons to fight, they went back to the desert, back to the Glass Flats. That was where all kin battles started.

It was just after sunset when Ally and the Thunder Wings arrived at the place. Dark but not so late that the city behind them wasn’t bustling. People were just heading home from work, or going out to dinner, or finishing up practice or play rehearsal. Abel’s mother was probably just clocking out at the feed plant and starting the long bus flight home.

The lights of the city bent and shimmered in the colorful glass all around where Abel stood. The sight was breathtaking. The starlight up above made him think of Karak, back in the warehouse. He could see the swirls of distant galaxies, the whirl and streak of shooting stars, constellations he could never see from his window in the city.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” Roa agreed.

“Savvy,” Topher sighed. Not even he could be sarcastic in the face of the entire universe twirling above them.

“Hey, eyes down,” Jusif snapped at them. “You’re the ground crew, not the stare-at-the-stars crew.” He grunted at Topher. “And you. Go help Olus with the supplies before I make dragon snacks out of you.”

Topher scurried over to the Thunder Wings leader, who was sorting all kinds of tools and supplies and weapons systems to enhance their dragon. It was like a real-life stack of DrakoTek cards.

“Get me the hex wrench, you slobbering salamander,” Olus snapped at Topher. “Unless you want to me to use your teeth on this bolt!”

Poor Topher scurried from Olus to the tool chest, rummaging frantically.

“Our job is to fix Ally’s equipment, patch up any wounds we can, and keep Zoonia in flying shape,” Jusif explained. “Roa, you’re on medical, obviously. I’m the lookout. I warn her of incoming trouble. Olus is the Fix-It, doing repairs and upgrades when Ally comes back to the pit.”

“Your leader is your Fix-It?” Abel asked, watching the kin leader scold Topher about the size of the wrench he’d brought back.

“Thunder Wings value smarts above all else,” Roa said. “Some kins idolize their dragon riders, but we admire our Fix-Its and our Healers. That’s why they’re letting you fly Karak with, like, no training, but I have to apprentice for years to be a dragon vet.”

“It’s not no training,” Abel corrected them. “And it’s Karak letting me fly, not the Thunder Wings.”

“Right, of course,” Roa said. Abel suspected his friend was humoring him.

They’d outfitted the Yellow Stinger with armor and weapons. The spikes on her tail were now tipped with impact grenades. She had on a helmet with a targeting laser and loops of wire that went from the helmet’s base to the back of her jaw so that her breath weapon was calibrated to the laser for targeting. Yellow Stingers breathed fire, the most common for all the dragons, but it wasn’t as hot as a lot of others. So the Thunder Wings had designed a kind of mask for the end of Zoonia’s snout. When the flame passed through the mask, it hit a chemical that was like syrup. Whatever the dragon hit with a fireball, the flame would stick to and burn slow and hot, smoldering for a long, long time. It could melt armor. Abel shuddered to think what it could do to a person.

Just then, a wide-winged shadow passed over them. The jagged shape of a dragon blotted out the starlight. It circled in for a landing on the Glass Flats with a clattering of claws. Then, rearing back on its hind legs, it let out a roar.

The Red Talons challenger had arrived on a Ruby Widow Maker.

The bright red dragon had red armor covering its belly, and there were missile tubes at the base of each of its wings. Its forepaws had flamethrowers mounted to the backs of special dragon-sized gloves and its back paws had huge blades over its talons that doubled their length. Its helmet was just as red as its scales but had a smooth rainbow glass visor that covered its eyes completely, to protect them during the battle. Widow Makers were gem dragons, and their breath weapon fired razor-sharp gem fragments. The gem shrapnel could easily ricochet and hurt the dragon, which was why you couldn’t play any Widow Maker in DrakoTek unless you also had an equipment card with some kind of eye covering. They were one of the few dragons whose power was so strong they could hurt themselves with it.

The rider was dressed from head to toe in red armor, except for a fully mirrored helmet. He jumped down from the saddle and took it off in one smooth motion. It was Sax, the kinner who’d torn up Abel’s apartment. He smiled at Abel with yellow teeth.

“Your sister stole something that belongs to us,” he shouted. “And now it’s fallen into Thunder Wings hands. Return it.”

“We return nothing,” Olus bellowed on Abel’s behalf. “And I’m insulted they’d send you to fly. Where’s your boss?”

“Red Talons leaders have more important things to do than fight over scraps,” Sax answered.

Olus spat on the ground. “Dismantle this fool.”

“Savvy,” Ally replied with a bow, then turned to Sax. “Terms?”

“We want the Sunrise Reaper,” Sax said.

“No,” Ally said. “You only win the dragon that battles. That’s the way. Winner takes the loser’s dragon.”

“I want to battle the Sunrise Reaper, then!” Sax said.

“The rider isn’t trained yet,” Ally said. “You battle me.”

“Okay, fine. Our terms are this,” Sax said. “When we win, we get to battle the Sunrise Reaper next week, ready or not.”

“And if you lose?”

Sax laughed so hard he nearly wheezed. “If I lose, you get Zuk.” He pointed at his bright red dragon. “And … we’ll forgive the boy’s sister for her theft.”

Abel’s heart leapt. Maybe this could solve all his family’s problems and he wouldn’t even have to battle.

“His sister’s a Sky Knight,” Olus scoffed. “Why would we want to help her?” Abel’s heart sank, but Ally looked over at him and gave a thumbs-up. Olus nodded at her. “Fine,” he grunted at Sax. “For the boy’s sake.”

Abel smiled.

“Don’t be too happy about that bet,” Olus whispered to him. “We bail your sister out of her trouble for you, then you’re going to owe us, just like your friend Topher does.”

“But he’s not my—” Abel started.

“Kindness always has a price in this city, kid,” Ally cut him off. “Get used to it.”

Abel didn’t want to get used to that kind of kindness. Real kindness wasn’t a trade you made; it was gift you gave. He didn’t like the kinner version of kindness at all.

A small shape darted from the darkness between two distant floodlights on the border with the city. It grew larger as it raced toward them across the smooth glass.

Abel tensed. “Is that the Dragon’s Eye?” he gasped, terrified not only of being carted off to Windlee Prison, but having his parents find out that he and Roa and their teacher had been lying to them. He didn’t want to let them down. They had enough trouble.

“No, the Dragon’s Eye flies wyverns,” Roa said. “That is Fitz.”

The shape grew larger and larger as Fitz, the owner of Chimera’s All-Night Coffee + Comics, sped across the Flats on the back of a colorful serpentine dragon. The creature had a long, thin body, four strong scale-covered legs, and a mane of thick white hair that flowed in the breeze. The dragon came to swirling stop in between the two teams, and Fitz hopped down from his dragon’s back with surprising gracefulness for a man of his size.

Fitz was a legend around the city. Everyone thought he’d been in a kin before, but no one knew which one. He had tattoos for all the major kins on the knuckles of one hand, and the word “UNITY” on the knuckles of his other. He had tattoos that told stories up and down his arms, some from the other side of the Glass Flats, where he’d traveled in the Dragon Corps, and some from Windlee Prison, where he’d volunteered as a nurse in the hospital. He had one tooth made out of gleaming dragon glass, and it shimmered whenever he let out one of his thunderous laughs, which he did often.

“Sorry I’m late,” Fitz said. “We had a story time at the shop. You would not believe how many requests a group of three-year-olds can make! But I brought leftover donuts! Anyone want one?”

He reached for one of his saddlebags, where Abel saw a bright pink box peeking out. It made his mouth water.

“I’ll take one,” Topher said, but Olus slapped his hand away and made him sort the tools alphabetically.

“This is a battle, not snack time,” Sax snarled. “Get on with it!”

“Of course.” Fitz bowed. “For the record, I know nothing about any of this and am only out here on my evening ride.” As he climbed back up onto his dragon, he caught Abel’s eye, and his beaming smile tripped into a frown. He obviously hadn’t been expecting to see Abel. But he cleared his throat, pasted his happy expression back on, and spoke to everyone in his usual booming voice. “CHALLENGER! SURRENDER YOUR HOARD!”

Sax, as the challenger from the Red Talons, stepped forward with a large token about the size of a trash can lid. It was covered in gems and jewels and looked like it might’ve been solid gold. The Red Talons’ emblem was made out of rubies on one side and diamonds on the other. It was definitely precious. It also looked heavy.

“Dragons, to your lairs!” Fitz shouted. Each of the pilots scurried back onto their dragons, which were waiting in the spray-painted circles on the ground, each kin’s symbol at the center. “As usual, I will hide the hoard on a rooftop within the city limits and send up this signal when it’s placed.”

Fitz pulled back on the reins of his dragon gently. It tilted its head back to the sky and opened its mouth. A ball of purple flame formed at the back of its throat, and then it shot straight up in a gleaming tower of fire. The flare turned into a great round ball of rainbow flame, which fell as colorful sparks. “Look to the horizon,” Fitz said. He gave his dragon a tug on the reins and shouted, “Ep ep!”

Two thin purple wings erupted from the dragon’s sides, and it leapt into the air, flapping away with astonishing speed. Soon, Fitz disappeared into the city skyline.

Now they had to wait. No one could take off before the signal, but once it came, the goal was to find the hoard somewhere in the city before the other team did, grab it, and get back your team’s starting circle. That ended the battle. Whoever got the hoard to their circle first won.

Each team had a ground crew who could give advice and instruction, do repairs, and offer quick healing care. Only the designated rider and their battle dragon could participate in the battle, though. Any other dragons interfering was cheating and an automatic forfeit. Also, the ground crews weren’t allowed to beat each other up.

Those were about the only rules.

“How long does it take for Fitz to hide the hoard?” Abel asked. “And why Fitz?”

“He’s the only person in the entire city that everyone trusts,” Roa said. “But that doesn’t mean everyone respects him. The kin have spies watching where he goes, so he has to be sneaky. He can’t be seen placing the hoard, but he also can’t send the signal from the same place he hid it. He’s really good. No one has ever managed to see him hide it.”

“Do the Thunder Wings spy on him too?”

“Of course.” Roa shrugged. “We value knowledge. What are spies but collectors of knowledge?”

“That’s cheating,” Abel said.

“Can’t cheat if there are no rules against it,” Jusif added. “Relax. This is gonna be fun!”

“It’s a deadly and illegal dragon battle,” Abel reminded him.

“Right!” Jusif pumped his fist “Like I said, fun! Hey, Topher the gopher, get me a soda.”

Abel frowned, while Topher glumly brought Drake-Cola from the cooler, then retreated back to Olus’s side. He looked miserable. Abel didn’t want to end up like him, trapped as a servant to these vicious kinners. He looked back at Roa, unsure what he was supposed to do now.

“It’s my first battle too,” they said. “I am kind of excited. It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

Abel looked up at the stars and then down at the way they gleamed off the Glass Flats. He thrilled at the thought of Karak’s sparkling wings spread wide out here, flying free and open, not crammed into the warehouse. The air smelled cleaner too, none of that mix of sweat, metal, and dragon dung that filled the city. And from this distance, the city itself looked beautiful. He’d never seen it from the outside before. This far away, you couldn’t tell where the dirt was, or where the buildings were run-down and the landing platforms cracked. From here, it looked like a magical place to grow up. He felt a swell of gratitude that he was lucky enough to have been born in it, to be alive and young and caught up in an adventure. It was beautiful and scary, and yeah … maybe Jusif was right. It was fun.

“Hey, focus!” Olus shouted, snapping him to attention. “Look for the signal!”

A moment later, he saw it. A ball of purple fire hovered in the air, then burst into rainbow sparks.

The Red Talons’ Widow Maker dragon was off the ground first. Ally on her Yellow Stinger launched a heartbeat later, screeching into the sky.

A blast of thick orange smoke shot from a backward-facing cannon on the Widow Maker’s side. The Yellow Stinger had to dodge it in a corkscrew spin, which slowed her down, giving the Red Talons team a chance to turn and snap at the other dragon. Talon clashed with metal, throwing bright sparks into the night. The dragons snarled and thrashed, then broke apart on the way back to the city line. Ally slowed so her dragon was behind the Red Talons’. The Yellow Stinger fired a blast of flame from her mouth that smashed directly into the Widow Maker’s armored belly. The Widow Maker roared and turned to get away, veering in a new direction. Ally accelerated her dragon and gained speed, veering in the opposite direction.

It’s a race, a heist, and a duel, Abel remembered. It took speed, smarts, and power. It looked like Ally and her dragon had all three. When it’s my turn, he thought, will I?

The two dragons disappeared into the bright city lights, and just like that, Abel’s first kin battle had begun.