The Cobra's Cage: Chpt. 2

***In process of editing

Phoenix

As she exited, her platinum blonde hair swung behind her, catching the light of the sun. It was braided today, slung over her shoulder like a bow, her favorite weapon.

I waited several seconds, then followed.

A jungle of surprised faces met mine.

"Lunch is over?" I said.

"You still hungry, man?"

My hand drifted to my abdomen. No way--no thanks. Not after some stomach lining had joined the bile on my floor. This morning, I'd paid a visit to my doctor, but his words hadn't changed. This is perfectly normal for someone who's contracted grief.... Symptoms vary from person to person. Here, these pills might help. Strengthen your immune system.

Somehow he'd forgotten, again, that I was already taking them.

The agent walked off. Oops. I'd neglected to form a reply. Others began grumbling as they passed, their limbs snagging on mine. For a moment, my hips rotated, unsure what to do. Then my feet seized control of my body, carrying me down the current. Maneuvering through the chaos, much like I did for Siv. It was time I found a shoulder myself. Time I consulted my sister.

---

She was exactly where I expected--in the lounge. She always spent her break time in the lounge.

She and a few other twelve-year-olds. The rest of Candon just stuck in their dorms or roamed the campus. The lounge, with its cheap furniture and colorful carpet, could've passed as a playroom.

Then I saw her. Curled on a chair, a book in her lap.

Her name was Sphinx. Our parents' idea of a joke, I suppose--naming their children Phoenix and Sphinx. She'd been the apple of their eye. Her hair was so black it looked blue, and she walked with exceeding grace, shoulders swinging and chin tilted towards sky. So delicate and petite, I couldn't believe she was named after a crossbreed.

"Sphinx! Can I have a sec?"

---

" My voice shattered, as did my balance. I struck the ground. Now? I was thinking. Why now?

In a flash, she stood over me. "Easy, Phoenix. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

She checked my forehead.

"Hi," I managed, before choking out some saliva.

"Nessa! Get a doctor!"

---

Once again, I was staring into the eyes of not-so-blithe Dr. Blythe. He'd gained weight since I last saw him. His chin was hanging onto his neck for dear life.

"Now," he clucked, "you really need to get over this girl."

I HAVE!

"We need to cut you open," he continued matter-of-factly.

Siv

The corridors of Candon were near impossible to navigate. They wove around the school like threads of a gargantuan spiderweb. As the floor sloped steeper downward, my footsteps acquired a sharp edge, slicing through my eardrums.

I rounded a corner, and the breeze flowered into a wind. At this point, the tears were ready to spill; I was cold, lost, and frightened, and the highest authority of Candon awaited me in his office.

"You all right?"

A Trainer was walking on my opposite side. With each step, his knees sunk low toward the naked floor, like he was tiptoeing on level feet.

"Yes, sir," I said, relieved. "Would you, um, point me out to the Director's office?"

"The Director? Of course. I was only on my way to the cafetorium." The smile lines crinkled around his eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"No, no, no," he said. His voice was strangely feathery. "They're serving dragonsteak, I believe?"

"Not sure. I was running errands."

I fell into step beside him. He looked awkward, but that made him more comfortable to be around. How old was he? Forties? I couldn't tell; his skin glowed so clear. Old enough to be my father, at least.

"So," I said, hoping to ease the tension, "what's your na--?"

"Don't you feel like a murderer eating--?"

We stopped walking and chorused, "You first."

A laugh bubbled up my airways. "No, you."

"Alright," he said. "I'm Dr. Omega, and--"

"Doctor? That's a Trainer's uniform."

"No. This is a doctor's uniform." He indicated the badge by his sleeve. "Anyways, don't you feel like a murderer eating dragon?"

I hefted an eyebrow.

"Some breeds are wiser, more intellectual than humans. We only dominate Korath because--"

"--because our magic is superior," I finished. "All they're able to do is breathe fire or fly."

The air was getting damper now--damper and colder, but I realized I didn't mind. Dragon history had always fascinated me. And this Dr. Omega, with his words overlapping in his haste to speak, seemed well-educated.

"Not quite, Delta."

I froze. "What did you call me, sir?"

"Oh." He smiled apologetically. "You just ... remind me of one of my friends. Your name is Asiva, correct? My cousin--he's a Trainer--told me a bit about you."

Delta. Delta. Where had I heard that name before? Delta. Omega.

"Hauser!" I exclaimed. Dr. Omega backed into the wall, breathing harshly.

I halted. "Sir?"

"I think that I'll leave you here." The words barely squeezed through his numb lips. "Good luck with the Director."