the nearest building, and there sat him down on a table.
“We wait here until someone comes and gets them to calm down,” said a voice from the doorway. “Keep an eye out. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started breaking the roof.”
It was Bran, grim-faced and wearing his uniform. Arren tried to get up and go to him, but the guards pulled him back. “Bran, please!”
There was no recognition in Bran’s face. He looked at Arren for only a moment, then went to the door and peered out. “They’re here now. They’ll get it under control.”
“Bran, I didn’t do anything!” Arren shouted. “Someone set my house on fire, don’t you see, they’re trying to—aah!”
One of the guards had struck the side of the slave collar, making pain explode in his neck.
Bran turned to look at Arren, and the hard look on his face faded. “Arren, how could yeh?”
“Bran, it’s them, they’re trying to kill me! You’ve got to—” He broke off, crying out as the guard hit him again, this time striking his torn face.
“Stop it,” Bran snapped. “Someone get him a cloth.”
One of the guards by the door fished a bandage out of his pocket and gave it to Arren. “Here. Cover it up with this.”
It was too short to wrap around his head, so he folded it and held it over the wound, keeping his arm up with difficulty under the weight of the manacles. “Bran, please, you’ve got to help me,” he said.
This time Bran ignored him. He stood in the doorway, watching the scene outside. Arren could hear screeching mingled with commanding shouts. Griffiners had arrived to break up the flock.
They waited in tense silence until Bran turned around. “All right, it looks like it’s been sorted out. Let’s get goin’.”
Arren was pulled to his feet and the guards set out, taking him with them. They left the building and marched through several blocks and onto the main street, heading straight for the Eyrie. As Arren walked, the manacles and the collar weighing him down, blood soaking into the bandage on his face, he could see people crowding around to watch him pass, all staring at him with expressions of horror and amazement.
Quite suddenly, a wild urge came over him to break free of the guards and run at them. He wanted to hit them, hurt them, scream at them, make them feel some tiny part of the agony inside him. He wanted to burn their houses and take their belongings, clamp slave collars around their necks and twist them until they screamed. He wanted to kill them.
He made no move, but his wounded face twisted with hate.
A shadow passed over him. Griffins, these ones with riders, had come and were following from above. Others brought up the rear and more went ahead. They were guarding him, still wary of the unpartnered griffins from the hatchery, some of which had decided to follow the column. But none of them tried to attack, and most were leaving. They were satisfied that he had been caught and would not escape.
The group reached the Eyrie, and Arren was taken inside and down into an old part of the building, a part dug into the rock of the mountain itself. There were storerooms down here and rooms where slaves had once slept. And there was a dungeon. It wasn’t very large, and the cells were small and dank. The guards took Arren to one of them and threw him inside. He landed hard on the floor, crying out as his collar struck the stone; the door slammed behind him, leaving him in utter darkness.
His eyes adjusted after a while, and he could see faint light filtering in under the door, but it only just allowed him to see the walls of the cell. The floor was damp and filthy, and there was water dripping from the roof. There was no food or water and no furniture except a jar meant to serve as a toilet.
Arren groped his way to the corner and sat down, shivering in the cold. He couldn’t see anything or hear anything except the dripping water and the faint sound of the guards moving on the other side of the door. His cheek was throbbing and so was his neck.
After a while the cold seeped into the collar and the manacles as well, until they felt like ice pressed against his skin. He rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm, but it didn’t do much