by Jodi Meadows
But the man . . .
The story I’d gotten from Gerel and Chenda had been vague, but the essence was that commandeering a ship was not as hard as I’d expected. At least, if the pair doing the commandeering included a trained warrior and someone who could bend shadows to her will.
They’d ambushed the man and tossed him in his own brig, then set sail the day following our departure from Val fa Merce. But when they arrived in Crescent Prominence, it was just in time to see our frenzied escape from the Falcon, as well as the dragon following us. So they’d pushed harder to catch up, only for the dragon to set fire to their new ship.
The sails took the worst of the flames, but when the mast fell, it hit next to the prisoner. So while Gerel was practically ripping off part of the hull for Chenda to float on, the prisoner was inhaling smoke and suffering severe burns. They hadn’t known until Gerel went back for him.
The ship’s medic was not optimistic about his survival.
But given what else Gerel and Chenda had said about him, we were all hoping he’d make it:
“He is a spy. When he figured out that we know you, he freely admitted his allegiance to the Algotti Empire.”
“How did he learn that?” Hristo had asked.
“It’s a small ship,” Gerel replied. “He overheard. But that’s not what’s important.”
Hristo had looked as dubious as I felt, but we waited for her to finish.
“He said he would gladly tell Mira everything he knows about the treaty, the empire’s involvement in it, and the threat to the Fallen Isles—but only Mira.” Gerel frowned. “We stayed in Val fa Merce long enough to learn that Altan had been there, but left around the same time you did. We debated going after him, but thought we could get more information if we brought the spy to you. When we’re ready for him, Altan won’t be hard to find.” As she spoke Altan’s name, her expression tightened.
Maybe, after the fight, she and Chenda were just as reluctant to discuss him again. So I didn’t push to find out what they wanted to do about him. I let them focus on the man lying unconscious in the infirmary.
He was a spy from the empire, which made him untrustworthy by default. But he was a spy from the empire who was eager to tell me everything, which meant we needed him.
And he might die.
THINGS I WORRIED about as midnight approached:
1.The spy and his potential demise. What if he died? Were there more? Could I find them? And if I did, would they be willing to talk to me, too?
2.What did it mean that there was even one imperial spy in the Fallen Isles?
3.This new bond with Hush was . . . not unwelcome, but potentially a problem if she couldn’t tell the difference between an exhaustion-induced panic attack and real, true terror. I could certainly do worse than having a Drakontos titanus on my side, but considering how deadly she was, I needed about a thousand calming pills.
4.What was I going to do with a huge dragon? The little ones were already enough work.
5.Were my parents alive? Dead? I hadn’t seen them die, so I had to believe they still lived. I wouldn’t be able to function if I let myself believe they might be gone.
6.And what about Hristo’s father?
7.Then there were Ilina’s parents—somewhere in Anahera with dragons waiting to be shipped to the Algotti Empire. We would be so close to them. It seemed unthinkable that we wouldn’t mount some sort of rescue, but how? There were so few of us and Anahera was such a huge island.
8.Zara, of course, hated me more than ever. Mother—perhaps as her dying wish—had promised I’d protect her, but Zara wanted nothing from me. Certainly not my protection. I had no idea what to do with her, or how to make things right, or if it was even possible.
9.Altan. He’d been on the Falcon, which meant he was likely responsible for the destruction of the council house. But why? What did that accomplish for him?
10.Dragons in general. Were they scared? Ill? Worried? The more I imagined all those dragons in captivity, the tighter my chest felt.
After trading stories about what happened during our separation, Chenda brought up the giant noorestones from the shipping order. “We cannot forget what the empire could do with noorestones that powerful.”
“You’re right.” I leaned against the wall of the infirmary, cradling LaLa in one arm. She was picking at her splint, either bored or annoyed with it. I couldn’t tell. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before, Chenda.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I think—” I pulled a strip of linen out of LaLa’s mouth to give myself a moment to steady my thoughts. “What you said about not looking at the wider scope of what’s happening—I think we both fell into that trap.”
“I have been concerned about the empire the entire time.” There was fight in Chenda’s tone, but hesitance as well. Neither one of us wanted to reignite the argument that had driven us apart, but we couldn’t ignore it forever.
“You have,” I conceded. “You’ve spoken about the Isles’ independence, those who rule, and our obligation to do something about it if our governments won’t.”
She nodded. “Indeed. Thank you.”
“Meanwhile, my focus was on dragons, in part because I don’t want our enemies to have them, and the Great Abandonment should terrify us all, but mostly because I love dragons.” In the crook of my arm, LaLa looked up at me and blew a puff of smoke at my face. “Even when they’re pests.” I rubbed the acrid scent from my nose.
From the opposite wall, Aaru cast a faint smile my way.
I looked back at Chenda, sitting motionless on her infirmary bed. “What I mean is that we both have valid concerns. Your nature is to always consider the political problems and try to solve them—”
“While you consider dragons and our duty to care for them, as our gods command.” She nodded. “That is true.”
I was glad she understood. “What we haven’t considered,” I said, “is how our focuses intersect. We should have been working together to solve both of these issues, but I resisted because I was afraid.” My throat tightened with the words. I was still afraid. Of Altan. Of the Luminary Council. Of the Algotti Empire. Of the Great Abandonment. I just couldn’t let that fear rule me anymore. “And I think you resisted because you didn’t think rescuing dragons was as important.”
Her mouth opened, sharp words balanced on her tongue, but then she leaned back, some of the anger leaking out of her. “All right.”
“We should have worked together,” I said again. “Instead of both of us trying to make our focus everyone else’s focus.”
Chenda closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “‘A lone shadow may be dark,’” she quoted.
“‘But many side by side make midnight,’” I finished.
“When I told you that, I was trying to make you stand by my side.” Chenda dropped her gaze in embarrassment. “I didn’t think I needed to move closer to yours as well.”
I offered my warmest smile. “We won’t make that mistake again. Together we’ll be unstoppable.”
A beat of quiet pulsed through the room—not Aaru’s, but a natural, uncomfortable moment of realizing our friends had been watching our reconciliation.
“How touching,” Gerel muttered. “Can we get back to the noorestones? I think one or both of you was about to remind us how terrible everything would be if the empire used the giant noorestones as weapons.”
“Something like that.” Chenda flashed a smile Gerel’s way.
Gerel clapped her hands together. “Then it seems pretty simple. We get more noorestones and we strike first.”
“That will be difficult,” Chenda said. “Even on Bopha, noorestones of that size are rare.” She opened one of the cage-like sconces and plucked a crystal out, then turned it over in her hands, smoothing her fingertips across the facets; shadows jumped across the walls, behaving normally . . . for now. “I’ve seen only four in my life. Three were on the Star-Touched, and one was presented to the Twilight Senate short
ly after I became the Lady of Eternal Dawn. Four. In my life. And three of them were in the same place.” She glanced down at me, one eyebrow raised in question.
“I’ve seen three,” I confirmed. “The noorestones on the Star-Touched. And I’ve heard about six others: those on the Great Mace”—that was the Khulani vessel capable of crossing the sea—“and on the ill-fated Infinity.”
“As I thought.” Chenda placed the noorestone back in its sconce and closed the lid.
“All right,” Gerel said. “So we find a different weapon. A better one.”
“Why strike first?” Hristo asked.
Gerel glared at him. “What would you propose, Hartan?”
Harta hates harm.
He lifted an eyebrow. “It seems to me there are two options. One is your idea. Immediate violence. Bigger violence. The second is to find a way to protect ourselves.”
“The best way to protect yourself is to be better armed.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. You keep reaching for swords. I’m talking about a shield.”
“What do you mean?” Ilina asked.
“I don’t know exactly.” He hesitated, and I could feel everyone struggling to not look at me.
And why wouldn’t they? I’d demonstrated power over noorestones time and time again. If I could command the energy contained in the giant noorestones, the empire would lose its advantage over us.
Across the room, Aaru shifted his weight. His expression was thoughtful. Inward. He, too, could affect noorestones: he could silence them.
Couldn’t we be shields?
I would much rather be a shield than a weapon of destruction.
“We’re forgetting something,” Ilina said, and everyone looked up. “The empire doesn’t have our dragons yet. Isn’t it possible they don’t have our noorestones, either? What if they’re on Anahera, with the dragons?”
“Is that where we’re heading?” Chenda asked. “Anahera?”
Ilina’s eyes darkened, but she didn’t protest our destination again. “It’s the best chance we have to hide while the Falcon is in pursuit. From there, we don’t know yet. Maybe it will depend on what he says.” She motioned toward the unconscious spy.
His clothes had been cut away, replaced by bandages covering large parts of his body: his arms, his chest, one leg.
“If he wakes up,” I whispered.
Just then, the door squealed open and the ship’s medic burst into the room.
“What are all of you doing here? This isn’t the mess. Get out. All of you.” Kursha swung around to look at Gerel and Chenda. “Except for you two. Obviously.”
“Sorry.” I shouldn’t have said anything, though, because she turned her glare on me.
“And you, still awake like this. I heard what you did with the noorestone. That can’t be healthy. Get. Some. Rest.”
Sufficiently chastised, Aaru, Ilina, Hristo, and I slipped out of the infirmary while LaLa yawned, letting a scrap of linen dangle from her teeth.
Ilina moved Crystal to her shoulder and bent toward LaLa. “She’s going to pick the whole splint apart.”
“All your hard work.”
In our cabin, Zara was already sleeping. Or, rather, pretending to sleep. When Aaru cocked his head, listening, I heard it, too: muffled sniffles and small, gasping breaths.
As Hristo climbed into his bunk, and Ilina into her hammock, I stepped toward my sister to say something. Comfort her. Touch her shoulder maybe. But she tensed, angry energy radiating off her, so I retreated to my side of the cabin and climbed into my hammock.
Before LaLa was finished making herself comfortable over my heart, I was gone—lost to dreams of furious dragons and hot, bright noorestones that devastated the world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SPINNING THOUGHTS AND ANXIOUS DREAMS FINALLY eased into a restless sleep. I awakened at every noise—Zara leaving the cabin, Hristo’s unconscious grumbling, and Ilina’s quiet snores—and drifted off again. Through the porthole, light shifted brighter as the day crept by in exhausted flashes.
It was LaLa’s tugging at her splint that fully jerked me out of sleep. She was perched on my chest, shredding the fabric into neat little piles.
“Stop.” Carefully, I pressed the scraps back against her wing, but it was pointless. She just nibbled at my fingers until I moved back, and then she continued her destruction. “Ilina worked hard on that.”
“What did I do?” Groggy annoyance filled Ilina’s tone, and slowly she reached up toward me, her fingers bent into claws. “Why are you talking so early?” She flexed her fingers out and in, as though demonstrating how she would punish me for waking her.
“It’s midafternoon.” Hristo turned the page of a book he was reading, still lying in his bunk. “Everyone else is up.”
I glanced at Aaru’s empty hammock, but before I could ask where he’d gone—if Hristo even knew—LaLa tore off another piece of fabric. “Ilina, she’s destroying your splint.”
“Still?” My friend scrambled to her feet, transferring Crystal to her shoulder as she moved. “Bad LaLa. That’s supposed to keep your wing secure.” She reached for my dragon, but LaLa puffed smoke at her, and the last pieces of the splint fell off.
LaLa extended her wing out wide, groaning as though she’d been stiff and it felt good to stretch.
“She can’t be healed already, can she?” I asked.
Hristo had abandoned his book and come to watch as Ilina took LaLa and felt along the bones of her wing. “Dragon bones do heal quickly,” she muttered. “But two decans quickly. Not eight days quickly.”
Perhaps LaLa’s bones hadn’t gotten the news, though, because when she tested her wings, she caught air and flew a wobbly circle through the cabin while I dropped out of my hammock. When she landed on my shoulder and purred, I stroked the warm scales along her face and neck, then bumped noses with her.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, little dragon flower.” My soul warmed as she pushed off my shoulder, flew at Crystal, tapped her, and raced away. Her flight wasn’t perfect yet—she quavered on one side—but it was a small space and she’d just recovered. I looked at Ilina. “Should we take them up for fresh air?”
“We’ll have to be careful of Hush.” But Ilina was already grabbing our hunting equipment—jesses, gauntlets, lines—just in case.
Minutes later, we emerged onto the main deck, our tiny dragons upon our shoulders, stretched as tall and proud as they could be. LaLa strained, eager for flight, but I rested my fingers on her back while I scanned the sky for Hush.
The Drakontos titanus was nowhere in sight, though my connection with her still pulled—a gossamer thread from my heart to hers. She was probably eating or resting, since dragons didn’t usually travel long distances, but she hadn’t left us.
“All right, little lizard.” I let go of LaLa and she shot into the sky, Crystal right on her tail.
If a thread connected Hush to my heart, LaLa was my heart. She was my soul. Ecstatic joy burst through me as my dragon took flight and played chase with her sister.
Ilina and I grinned at each other as we walked to the foredeck, Hristo in our wake. “It’s nice for something to go right for a change.” She lifted her eyes to our dragons.
“I’m sorry about Anahera,” I started. “I know you don’t want to go there.”
Her shoulders tensed. “Let’s just watch our dragons for now. When the spy wakes up or we get to Flamecrest, we won’t have time for anything happy.”
I swallowed back more questions. The Book of Love reminded us that we were not entitled to explanations. We could ask, but if someone didn’t want to share, we had to respect that.
Still, Ilina was my best friend. Shouldn’t I know these things about her?
Above, LaLa chased Crystal around the masts, ducking between lines and sliding down sails.
“I hope they don’t slice the canvas. Captain Pentoba will kill us.” Hristo leaned against the rail, gazing up as LaLa and Crystal z
ipped past, gliding ahead of the ship. They danced around each other, breathing fire and somersaulting through the air, as though they had no worries at all.
“Don’t you wish we could be like them?” Ilina’s expression was soft. Wistful. A mask hiding some kind of pain I didn’t understand.
The Chance Encounter cut through the water, making salt spray fan across my nose and cheeks. Wind and the brilliant afternoon sun dried my skin. Slowly, the light shifted to gold as the day folded in on itself. The mountains were just scrapes of brown against the bright blue sky, but closer in, the forests and fields boasted every shade of green imaginable.
It was the endless ocean east of us that felt like the edge of the world.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
And somewhere beyond that, the Algotti Empire.
Why couldn’t they just leave us in peace?
Why had it taken the threat of invasion to unite our islands?
Ahead, the dragons called to each other and slowed their flight, allowing the Chance Encounter to catch up before they took off again.
As the sun dipped toward the west, my awareness shifted to the presence behind me. Like a tether snapping into place, or two hearts synchronizing.
I looked across the bustling deck to see Aaru emerging from the hatch. Immediately his dark eyes found mine.
Neither of us moved, but my pulse quickened and all the nearby noorestones flared before I pushed them away.
“Are you all right?” Ilina followed my gaze. “Oh. He looks like he needs to talk.”
“I think so.” But I couldn’t tell whether I was answering her question or agreeing with her statement. Maybe both.
Ilina gave two sharp whistles, and the dragons dived toward her, flaring their wings at the last second as they landed side by side on her outstretched hand. “Come on.” She deposited LaLa into Hristo’s arms and grabbed the basket off the deck. “Shout if you need me, wingsister.” She bumped my shoulder before she and Hristo strode down to the main deck.