The Dragon Games

Quota

Some called the raiders the downfall of good society. Regan called them good fun. Used to, that is. Lately, the crew felt more like a prison than a home, a fat green wart on the tip of her nose. Some days, the only thing keeping her going was counting off the days until she'd cash in her one way ticket out of dodge. Today was one of those days. Every Friday, Drax, the new captain of the raiders, sent one of his cronies to collect spoils from the raiders. Even tonight, the night before the Balthasar heist.

Under the cover of night, the raiders filed up into a line against the back of an alleyway. The air was thick and foul, reeking of a sewer problem that had yet to be fixed, but no one dared complain. As if Drax's name wasn't deterrent enough, Rauuk prowled across the rooftops, the wooden panels crying under the dragon's six-ton weight.

When the knights rolled into town for the qualifying tournament, they presented dragons as beautiful, noble creatures. But if all dragons were beautiful, then Rauuk was the exemption to the rule. Rauuk reminded Regan of the mutts that ran wild down the burrow's darkest alleyways, the result of too many generations of careless breeding. His hide had no real color – it was the grey goop left behind after mixing too many colors together. His snout was short and mishapen, stuck in a perpetual sneer, but it could tear through steel like it was paper. Regan's Divine made her powerful among humans, but it was nothing compared to a dragon. No one wanted a reminder of what happened to those that step out of line and angered Rauuk, least of all Regan. Her new alias was reminder enough.

As the minutes ticked by, Regan began to worry. It was nearly midnight, and all raiders were accounted for except Trixie. Just as Regan was about to step out of line to search for the girl, Viper arrived. He was Drax's most loyal crony. He told the raiders to get out their coin bags, then went down the line. Once he confirmed the coins matched the designated quota, he stuck them in his jacket. If a raider fell short of quota, the rest of them had to stare ahead, doing their best impersonation of a blind, deaf man as their fellow raider cries, begs, and screams for help. The days of loyalty and comradery among the raiders were long agon. Under Drax's command, all that was left was a hierarchy of fear.

As Viper moved down the line, come closer and closer to Regan, Regan's heart sped up. Trixie was running out of time. Falling short of quota was bad, but the punishment was no where near as sever as not showing up entirely. Suddenly, a soft tap brushed Regan's shoulder. Trixied had arrived, flushed faced and breathing hard. Wordlessly, Regan stepped aside to make room, allowing Trixie to slide into place like she had been there all along. But all of Regan's relief dissparead the moment Trixie pulled out her coin bag. There was barely any weight to it. No way in hell had Trixie made quota.

"Trixie," Regan hissed, barely moving her lips. "What were you messing around at the tournament for if you hadn't made quota?"

"I had made my quota," Trixie whispered back through gritted teeth. "But I was pickpocketed on the way home. I didn't realize what happened until I woke up the next morning and found everything gone. This is all I managed to make back."

"Viper won't accept excuses." In between kicks, he'd tell you how stupid you were for walking around with large sums in crook infested areas.

Trixie raised her chin, putting on a brave face, but she was trembling like a leaf. "I know."

A low growl rose from Rauuk's throat. Both girls whipped forward, becoming perfectly quiet and still. As Viper made his way down the line, Regan snuck glances at Trixie.

Trixie was quite possibly the unluckiest girl Regan had ever met. She came from a large, poor family with five brothers and one sister. It was a tale as old as time in the borrow, of too many hungry mouths and not enough food to feed them. Someone had to go, so on her ninth name day, her parents sat Trixie and her sister down and had them flip a rock to decide who stayed. When the rock landed on the side with Trixie's name on it, they chucked it at her — among other sharp things — until she left their home.