Chapter 2 - INTO THE CATACOMBS
They scrambled down the narrow, forgotten stairs leading beneath the grand courtyard into the old cathedral catacombs. The smell of damp stone and ancient dragon scale-dust filled the air.
"We can't leave Nyx with him!" Marlo panted, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"If we get killed or locked in a cell tonight, Nyx dies at dawn regardless," Alistair said, pulling a glowing ether-lantern from his belt to light the dark damp corridor. "Voss is covering up a systemic failure. Ren wasn't the first, and Nyx isn't the last."
"Why would anyone intentionally ruin elite battle dragons?" Marlo asked as they moved through the damp tunnels. "It takes a decade to train one. The Empire relies on them for border defense."
"Unless someone is selling high-tier dragon stock to the rival syndicates," Alistair replied grimly. "If a dragon is labeled 'aggressively defective,' it gets scheduled for culling. But if it 'dies' in transit to the incinerators, it can easily be smuggled across the southern pass. A fully grown dragon with a saboteurs' leverage is worth a king's ransom on the black market."
Marlo felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. "Nyx isn't being put down... he's being prepped for transport."
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Suddenly, the heavy iron gate at the end of the corridor slammed shut. Heavy footfalls echoed from the darkness ahead, accompanied by the low growl of hunting hounds—specifically, blood-hounds bred to track dragon-scent.
Voss hadn't just sent guards; he had flushed them straight into a dead end.
