by JD Monroe
“The sister was just voicing her concerns,” Iceborne said. “I’ve given our men orders to collect everything that was left behind, and we’ll return to Greenspire to regroup.”
“Do we know where Sidran fled?” Kaldir asked.
“North,” the healer replied without looking at him.
“My apologies, have we met?” he asked.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. He had been on the receiving end of her scowl more than a few times. “Sister Sohaila Mara,” she said. “I have been here for over a year. Sidran is planning something big, and he was headed north.”
Sohaila.
Why did she hide her face from them? Then it struck him. She was the one who’d told Vikosh to come back. “You were imprisoned here.”
“Yes,” she said flatly. “Welcome to the conversation.” Azeria coughed and bowed her head.
Anger prickled through him. This was certainly not the greeting he’d have hoped for. “There’s no need to be rude. It was a simple question.”
She didn’t look at him, staring intently at General Iceborne.
“Why was Sidran headed north? His armies were defeated at Greenspire,” Azeria said. “Was he fleeing?”
“He has greater plans,” Sohaila said. “And at least a dozen Aesdar to carry them out.”
“I knew it,” Azeria murmured.
“And you don’t know what those plans are?” Iceborne asked.
Sohaila shook her head. “He was vague around me.”
“What exactly did you do here?” the older woman asked.
Her gaze was still high, but her shoulders sank slightly. “I helped the Aesdar transform without losing their minds. I kept them healthy.”
“Do you know how many people they killed?” Iceborne asked. For the first time, a heated edge crept into her voice. “And you aided them?”
Kaldir’s stomach flip-flopped. “General—”
“I can approximate, though you’re welcome to give me exact figures if it makes you feel righteous,” Sohaila said. “The Skymother saw fit to heal them through me. That is our way.”
She was smaller than he remembered, her frame leaner than when she was a soldier training with him. Even her scent was different; the smoky scent of the Kadirai was still there, but it was mixed with the earthy smell of growing plants and a hint of something sweet and floral.
“You aided the enemy. You—”
“I protected my sisters and healed the wounded,” Sohaila said sharply. “My actions are for the Skymother to forgive, not you.”
The general sighed. “We move out by midafternoon. Sister, if there’s anything you’d like to take with you, gather it now. We’ll return you safely to the temple.”
“We need to go after Sidran.”
“And if you wish to do so, I’ll have someone point you north,” Iceborne said mildly. “I’ve sent a hunting party to follow him, but you’re welcome to go alone if you think you can do the job.”
“General,” Kaldir said sharply.
“We return to Greenspire as soon as possible,” Iceborne said, ignoring his interjection. “Sister, I will give you the choice of whether you accompany us.”
“This is a mistake,” Sohaila snapped.
“I have made many, and will continue to do so,” Iceborne said. “But I don’t think this is one of them. You’re dismissed.”
“I am—”
“You are dismissed from my private briefing,” Iceborne said firmly. “Thank you for your contribution.”
Sohaila whirled on her heel. Her amber eyes met his, filled with fire and rage. Her head tilted slightly, as if she was telling him to do something. But before he could react, she stormed past him. He turned to watch her go.
“That was refreshing. Nothing like being scolded by a holy woman to start your day.” Iceborne rubbed her temples. “General Dawnblaze. Are you well?”
“I’m fine,” he said absently. “Would you not consider going after Sidran?”
“I’ve sent a hunting party to track them, but they have orders only to observe,” Iceborne said. “We are even less equipped than we were, and he has a dozen of his Aesdar fully rested. We would be fools to chase that trail right now, and you know it.”
“I agree with you,” he replied. “But he has one of the Marashti.”
“And I will pray for her safety,” Iceborne said. “But I will not throw dozens of my men to their deaths for one healer. They are valuable, but I won’t risk that.”
“What did we gain?” he asked. “Please tell me we got something.”
Azeria opened the ledger in front of her. The pages were filled with her neat handwriting. She’d taken responsibility for the Scalebreakers while he was incapacitated. He expected no less from her. “Two of the Aesdar were slain. Another three taken prisoner. As best as Sister Sohaila could tell us, there were eighteen remaining here before our arrival.”
“Eighteen,” he breathed. That many white dragons would obliterate a city before his men could respond.
“Thirteen left,” Azeria said.
“I can do the math,” he said drily. “Any others?”
“We took a number of prisoners. Two full blooded Kadirai and three hybrids. They’re not talking. We also got sixteen human soldiers that were asleep when we got here.”
“Asleep?”
“The sister drugged them,” Azeria said, her lips pulling into a smirk.
That sounded like Falmina. He suppressed a smile.
“We’ve questioned a few of the humans, but none of them knew where the Chosen were headed, just that Sidran told them they were heading north,” Azeria said.
“What is your plan?” Kaldir asked Iceborne.
“Exactly what I said to the Marashti woman,” she said. “We’ll return to Greenspire to gather the rest of our forces. We’ll continue to aid their efforts to recover the dead and establish order. Perhaps our zealous sister would be happy helping with relief efforts there. Once we’re certain that Greenspire will stand on its own, we will return to Adamantine Rise and share what we’ve learned with your—the Firestorm.”
Ignoring Iceborne’s slip, Kaldir glanced at Azeria. “Do you think Sidran will attack Farath? He tried it once before.”
“Possibly,” Iceborne said. “Which is why we should cut our losses and get back there sooner rather than later.”
“Agreed,” Kaldir said.
“What about the prisoners?”
“Keep them locked down,” Kaldir said. “Marlena can question them when we get them back to Adamantine Rise.” The Scalebreakers had their own secret weapon; one of the Aesdar who had defected from the Chosen. Along with one of the powerful Arik’tazhan, she had trained the Scalebreakers to deal with the Aesdar. They would have suffered far greater losses without her aid.
“Agreed,” Iceborne said. “We’ll leave for Greenspire by midday. In the meantime, we’ll continue questioning the prisoners.”
He turned to Azeria. “Did you secure the Aesdar prisoners properly?”
“Of course,” she said. “They’re all manacled and heavily drugged.”
“Good,” he said. “If there’s nothing further, I need to check on my men. Just send for me if I’m needed.”
Iceborne nodded to him, turning her attention back to her lieutenants as he got up. His back ached as he stood, with Azeria close behind him. As they walked into the main hall, Azeria’s dark eyes swept over him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said. There was a half-healed cut on her forehead, edged by dark bruising. “You?”
“I’m fine,” she said. She planted herself in front of him, arms folded over her chest. “What the hell was that last night?”
He frowned at her. Her dark eyes were full of fury. “What?”
“Throwing me off your back and hiding me under your wing like a helpless child,” she said. Heat rolled off of her. “You could have died.”
“Hiding you had nothing to do with that,” he replied. “I didn’t want you to g
et hurt.”
“We protect each other, remember?” she said. “We carried your naked ass all the way back here and I thought I’d lost you. You scared the shit out of me.”
He shrugged. “So you protected me, just like I protected you. There was nothing you could have done about that fire, and I had a better chance to survive it than you did.”
She shook her head. “I’m extremely displeased with you. And if you weren’t the general, I would punch you in the face right now.”
“Duly noted. However, I don’t recommend you punching me in the face,” he said. “And if you’re seeking an apology, you’re not getting one. I’m not sorry in the slightest, and I won’t apologize when I don’t mean it.” Fire flared in her eyes. “But I appreciate you dragging my naked ass back here. I do prefer being alive to the alternative.” Her frown faltered for a split second before she remembered she was supposed to be furious. “How are the rest of our people?”
“We lost Khel,” she said. Her lip curled. “He shouldn’t have even come, but he’s stubborn. One of the Talons pulled him right off Kamina’s back and dropped him. He didn’t stand a chance. They’re fighting dirty.” She scowled
“Talons?”
“I’ll explain,” she said. As they walked back toward the room where he’d slept, she explained the poisonous breath had come from the Talons, a cadre of dragons that Sidran had enhanced with blood magic, turning their very blood and breath into poison. At least he hadn’t been so weak that he was taken down by normal fire. It soothed his ego, if not the burning ache in his chest and back.
“I see,” he said. “How’s Kamina?”
“She’s upset, obviously,” Azeria said. “She tried to catch Khel, but she couldn’t get to him fast enough. The Marashti tried to bring him back, but he was long gone.”
“I’ll talk to her,” he said.
“I already did,” Azeria said. “But you’re probably who she needs to hear from more than me. I’m not good at comforting.”
“No, you’re not.”
She chuckled. “Being honest isn’t always a virtue, Dawnblaze.”
“You don’t need to be comforting to be good at what you do,” he said. “You took responsibility for the Scalebreakers while I was out.”
“Someone had to,” she grumbled.
He rested one hand on her back. She tensed but didn’t pull away. An embrace would be the wrong approach with her, but the simple touch was enough to convey his message. “You did very well,” he said. “Thank you. I am in good hands with you. We all are.”
A faint smile pulled at her lips. “Yes, you are.”
“Was anyone else killed?”
She shook her head. “A few others hurt, but we were lucky. Iceborne lost two who got caught in the Aesdar’s breath. They weren’t prepared for the second one to change as fast as it did.”
He nodded. “Understood. Where’s Kamina?”
The wind dragon sat on the edge of a bed, staring down at her hands with unfocused eyes. Her dark hair was a tangled mess around her pallid face. Kaldir knocked gently on the door frame. Her silver eyes were bloodshot, barely focused.
“Sir,” she murmured, starting to stand.
“Don’t,” he said. “I just came to check on you.”
Her jaw clenched, but her eyes were already filling with tears. “I’m fine.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Her stoic mask disintegrated, revealing sheer anguish. “They knocked him off my back,” she said. “He held on as long as he could. He practically choked me holding onto that strap, but they broke his grip. That t’haran dan keth grabbed him, flew him even higher, and dropped him. The other one targeted me, and I couldn’t catch him. That was dirty. Dishonorable.”
“That’s how they fight,” he said, crossing the room to kneel in front of her. “Azeria said you tried to get to him.”
“I killed the one attacking me, but I was too slow. I used my wind to slow him down, but I’m afraid I just made it worse. If I hadn’t intervened, he might have died instantly. As it was, I’m afraid he suffered.” She let out a clipped sob, bowing her head as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Kaldir grasped her hands. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. His chest tightened with grief. No matter how many they lost, it didn’t get easier. “We will honor him, and we will finish this. If you need time to recover, then—”
“I don’t want to quit,” she said. “I’ll stay with you until the end. Give me another partner or let me fight with the Broodguard.”
He gently kissed her forehead. “You honor Khel’s memory. Would you like to pray for him?"
She sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It would make me feel better, too,” he said. She squeezed his hands and nodded. “Blessed Skymother, hear our plea.”
After praying for Khel, Kamina finally followed his orders to lie down. He dimmed the lantern and lingered at the door as she tugged the covers up to her chin. She was asleep within minutes, and he quietly let himself out of the room.
He had mourned fallen brothers and sisters before. Even among regular soldiers, there was a sense of camaraderie, and a shared responsibility when one of them fell. But the Scalebreakers were different. They were no longer individuals. They were bonded to their partners by trust and respect, and dependent on one another for their survival. When one of them fell, it tore the other to shreds and shook the rest of the team. It was uniquely personal and intimately painful.
Kamina blamed herself because her superior strength hadn’t been enough to protect Khel. Soaring through the sky to fight dragons, Khel depended on Kamina to get him back to the ground safely. In exchange, his power protected her from the Aesdar and the other magical weapons of the Chosen. If Khel had survived while Kamina fell, he would have been equally devastated.
He could still picture poor Thana, wailing over Navor’s body in the second day of the battle for Arvelor. “I had one job,” she’d told him later, staring numbly at the harsh afternoon sky. “He needed me for one thing, and I couldn’t do it.”
Never mind that Thana had six arrows protruding from her back and still managed to hold on to Navor’s bloody scales until the seventh pierced her wrist and broke her hold on him. She’d been lucky not to fall to her death. There was nothing else she could have done, nothing more anyone could have asked of her, but that didn’t matter. Thana still carried the impossible burden of Navor’s death.
His list of names to remember in prayer grew longer each day. He longed for the day that they brought Sidran under their talons, when he would answer for it all.
After checking on the rest of his men, Kaldir went in search of a bath, or at least a bucket of water and a rag. Halfway down the narrow hall, the clank of glassware and rustling paper caught his ear. He paused in the open doorway and saw Sohaila Mara bustling around a cramped workshop. His heart thrummed. He hadn’t seen her whole face yet, but he knew those eyes, and he certainly knew the sharp tongue that challenged Ralna Iceborne.
She was pulling items from wooden shelves and packing them into crates. The workshop smelled of dried herbs and pungent medicinal mixtures. As she worked, she slowly turned, then jolted backward. “Kaldir—General Dawnblaze,” she amended. “Do you need healing?”
“No,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “I know who you are.”
“I’ve made no secret of it,” she replied. Her amber eyes met his. She’d undone the braid, letting loose, copper waves hang down her back. It was nearly impossible not to reach out and touch it. He remembered burying his face in that fiery hair, breathing deep while she slept in his arms. “Do you need something?”
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“About?”
His stomach plunged through the floor. He had hoped for a happier reunion than this. “I…I don’t know. Are you well? You said you had been here for a year.”
“I’m fine,” she replied curtly. Her hand drifted toward her face, fingers brushing
over her ear and tugging slightly at the thin chain connected to the veil. What was she hiding? “I’m glad to see you’re well.”
“Did you heal me?”
“I did,” she said. “You should be more careful around the Talons.”
“Good to know,” he said. He frowned, shifting uncomfortably as the silence yawned open like a chasm between them. “I suppose I’ll leave you to your work. Perhaps when we arrive in Greenspire, we can find a few minutes to talk.”
“Perhaps,” she said absently. She deposited a bundle of herbs into one of the crates. After working for a few minutes, she glanced up again and frowned at him.“Did you need something else?”
I need you not to pretend I’m a stranger. “You were very upset with General Iceborne. What can I do?”
Her harsh gaze softened. “Sidran has one of my sisters,” she said. “It should have been me. And I’m afraid he’ll take out his anger on her.”
“Why?”
“Ayla and I drugged half the people here. We put something in their dinner,” she said. “We figured it would make them slower to react and make it safer for whoever was coming.”
“It worked,” Kaldir said. “We captured nearly two dozen of them still asleep.”
Sohaila shrugged, apparently unfazed by his endorsement. “I snuck into the kitchen to drug the food, so Ayla went back out to find Veraxa, the other Marashti. She said it would be less suspicious, but neither of them made it back before the attack. Considering one of the Aesdar transformed and one flew away with Sidran, I’m assuming he made her help them transform. I am afraid Sidran will blame her for the attack.”
“And you’d have preferred it was you that he took.”
Her tattooed brow furrowed. “No, but she was only here because I wasn’t cooperative,” Sohaila said. “I feel responsible for her.”
He scoffed. “The man is a monster. You’re not to blame for what he does.”
“I didn’t say I was,” she said sharply. “But I also can’t leave her to suffer.”
“We’ll find him, and we’ll get her back,” Kaldir said. “I give you my word. And even if you’re pretending otherwise, you know what that means.”