by Julie Kagawa
Shouts of alarm came from inside, just as a retina-burning flash pierced the darkness, followed by a muffled boom of energy. I lunged through the frame and saw a pair of dazed, reeling soldiers just before Tristan and I slammed into them. My soldier didn’t resist as I snaked an arm around his throat and sent him into unconsciousness.
Lowering the limp sentry to the floor, I looked up at Tristan, who nodded grimly as he released the second unconscious guard. That took care of this car, but the one with our objective in it was surely going to be more of a challenge. Any soldiers in it had certainly heard the explosions caused by charges and flashbangs and would know that they were under attack. They’d be ready for us.
Swiftly, we moved to the other end of the car. As we pressed to either side of the frame, Tristan nodded at me, and I quickly pushed open the door.
A hail of machine gun fire rang out. I jerked back as a storm of bullets peppered the frame, sparking off the railings and metal walls. Apparently, the guards had decided to take the initiative and not wait for us to kick in the door. From the sounds of the weapons, two soldiers stood to either side of the frame, firing M16s in sharp three-round bursts at us. Tristan and I pressed back behind the doorframe, sparks flying around us, and waited for an opportunity to move. I had a flashbang in hand, but the soldiers were giving us no chance to counterstrike. If I poked any body part out of cover now, I would get a bullet through it.
There was a roar overhead, a swooping of leathery wings, and a curtain of fire suddenly appeared between us and the soldiers. It blazed against the darkness, blindingly hot and intense, and the storm of gunfire ceased amid loud cursing and cries of alarm. The shadow swooped up and out of sight, too fast to be seen clearly, but for a few seconds the soldiers gaped after it, stunned. Long enough for me to pop out and hurl the flashbang at their feet.
The force of the explosion threw one soldier into the wall, where he collapsed, motionless. The other staggered back, reeling, and Tristan leaped over the space between cars, kicked him in the stomach and followed with a savage right hook to the guard’s temple that knocked him senseless.
The way to our objective was clear. Quickly, we ducked through the door, wary for more soldiers lying in ambush, but the car was empty save for a narrow wooden table in the middle of the floor. A lamp sat atop it, bathing the table in a dim orange glow, and in the center of the light lay a long case of glimmering metal.
Tristan let out a breath, reached out and pulled the case toward him. It was almost certainly our objective, but we had to make sure. The case was padlocked shut, but a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters took care of that problem. The latch released with a click, and Tristan yanked it open.
“Oh, yes,” he murmured as the lid fell back. A long, long black barrel lay gleaming in the cutout foam padding, much larger than a standard rifle barrel and three times as thick. It was obviously meant to be fired from a stand or tripod, as it would be far too heavy for a single person to lift, much less aim. The rest of the weapon had been disassembled and lay in pieces in various foam cutouts, but Tristan stroked the length of the barrel with an almost maniacal glint in his eye. “Hello, beautiful,” he purred. “Would you like to come home with me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Romeo, ask it to dinner later. We gotta move.”
Almost at the same time, a bang came from the door at the far end of the car, and angry voices echoed through the barrier. More guards were on their way.
“Shit.” Tristan closed the case with a snap, then hauled it off the table. It was almost too big for a single person to carry, but he set his jaw and started for the door. “Let’s go.”
We left the car, hurried to the ladder and together managed to drag the prototype case onto the roof. Wind buffeted us, cold and savage, and the tops of the empty train cars stretched on in either direction.
“All right,” Tristan panted, holding tightly to the case as he scanned the sky. “Where the hell are those lizards? We’re sort of sitting ducks out here.”
“They’ll be here—”
“Freeze!”
I looked up. Three soldiers had ascended the roof of the car from the other side, and a pair of M16s were now pointed in our direction. One of the men, the one out front, looked to be a captain or sergeant, for he was dressed differently than the near-identical soldiers behind him. I raised my hands as he approached, the two guards flanking him, to give me a hard smile.
“Well, well. End of the line, it seems.” His voice had a trace of a Southern accent, breathy and somewhat smug. “I guess I’ll have to give you props for this ballsy little heist. Though, for the life of me, I don’t know where you thought you were going to go, unless your plan was to sprout wings and fly away.”
Tristan snorted, managing to turn a laugh into a rather painful-sounding cough that didn’t fool anyone. The officer’s eyes narrowed, and pointed a black handgun at my face. “Put down the case and step away, now,” he demanded. “Nice and slow, and keep your hands where I can see them.” When neither of us moved, his voice turned hard. “Boy, don’t make me shoot you,” he said as the soldiers behind him took aim. “It’s over. There’s nowhere to go. Your choices are either death by jumping or death by lead poisoning. Or you can surrender now and live awhile longer. Personally, I’d take the last option.”
There was a ripple of shadow over the trees, and I smiled. “One more,” I said, making the officer frown. “There is one more choice.”
“Yep,” Tristan agreed, the smirk on his face indicating that he’d seen it, too. He kept a tight hold of the case as he nodded to the soldiers. “Time to go. Sorry, boys, but we’re doing you a favor, trust me.”
The officer’s frown turned to a scowl. “All right, that’s enough of that. Shoot—”
A roar boomed overhead. The two soldiers whirled, and managed to prostrate themselves on the roof as the two dragons came swooping in. The officer screamed, raising his gun to fire, but was hit by a passing wing and knocked to his back, barely stopping himself from going off the edge. Cobalt didn’t slow; I heard Tristan’s yelp of surprise as the blue dragon grabbed both him and the weapon case and flapped away over the trees. A half second later, talons closed around my arms, my feet left the roof and I watched the train fall away beneath me as Ember rose into the air, beating her wings furiously, and we soared over the tree line and disappeared into the night.
Ember
“You should have had them destroyed!”
That was the first thing we heard upon returning to Order headquarters, a loud, angry voice echoing down the hall to the command room. I paused, as did Garret, Riley and Tristan, listening as the indignant, hate-filled words carried through the corridor.
“What has gotten into you, Lieutenant? Speaking to dragons? Letting them into our ranks? Promising to help them? Can you be any more blasphemous?” The voice turned into a sneer. “You might as well sacrifice a goat and try to summon the devil himself.”
I sighed and, beside me, felt Garret tense. We did not need this right now. We’d just gotten to the point where at least some in the Order didn’t view us as soul-sucking demons. For the first time, dragons and the Order had worked together on something that wasn’t a life-or-death situation. The last thing we needed was someone trying to destroy the very shaky truce we’d established.
I shot a glance at the others, all of whom looked as grim as I felt. Garret and Tristan were tense and had that look of wondering if they should go forward or not. Riley’s mouth was twisted into a smirk, but it was one of his dangerous ones, and his eyes were hard.
“That’s Lieutenant Ward,” Tristan mused, sounding like he’d just stepped in something nasty on the sidewalk. “I didn’t know he survived. He must’ve just gotten here.” He and Garret shared a somber glance, and Tristan blew out a breath. “Well, this is going to be interesting.”
“Who is this bastard?” Riley wanted to know.
“He’s the lieutenant of the Eastern Chapterhouse,” Garret answered. “He can be very...verbose in his beliefs.”
Tristan snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. When you graduate the Academy, the Eastern Chapterhouse is where you’re sent if your teachers didn’t like you.” A particularly loud portion of the rant echoed though the hallway, and he winced. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to announce we just robbed the military,” he suggested in a wry voice. “I say we do a tactical retreat and come back when Ward has cooled off a bit.”
The officer’s voice rang through the corridor again, berating Martin for not shooting us all in the back of the head as he should have done, and I narrowed my eyes. “No,” I said. “If we let this continue, word could spread. The other soldiers might start to listen, and then everything we’ve accomplished so far will be for nothing. We’ll be back to square one.” I gazed down the hallway and set my jaw. “Besides, I want to talk to him. I want to look him in the eye and have him say those things to my face.”
“He will, Ember,” Garret warned softly. “Ward’s hatred for dragons is something even the Order takes note of, and he doesn’t mince words. It’s probably going to be very ugly, if he doesn’t try to shoot us on the spot. Not that Martin will allow that to happen, but I do want to warn you.”
“I know.” I nodded at him. “And I’m not expecting to change his mind. I just want him to see us. Even if it’s just to hurl insults, he’ll be talking to us instead of trying to slaughter us on sight. I want him to know that there’s actually a person on the other end of his bullets, not a mindless animal.”
“Oh, good.” Riley sighed as we started down the hall again. “That’s what I wanted to do today. Get screamed at by a dragon-hating fanatic. This is going to be all kinds of fun.”
“For you and us both, dragon,” Tristan muttered. “Being known as a dragonlover around here is almost as bad as being a lizard. Just ask Garret. He knows, isn’t that right, partner?” Garret shrugged, but Tristan continued to watch Riley, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “The trick is not to stare directly at them when they’re screaming in your face, and think happy thoughts.”
Riley snorted. “Like melting their face off with fire?”
“Well, I think of girls, but whatever floats your boat.”
As they were talking, Garret reached down and took my hand, strong fingers curving around mine. He squeezed once, gently, before letting go—a quiet reassurance that he was still there, that he had my back. I smiled at him, and we entered the command room.
“Lieutenant.” Martin’s voice, calm and resolute, drifted to us as we stepped through the frame. “I understand your concern, but there is no cause for—”
“Oh, you understand my concern, do you?” interrupted another voice, the same one that we’d heard in the corridor. It belonged to a tall, muscular man with cropped blond hair and a pale mustache beneath a very large nose. He wore the black-and-gray uniform of the Order, the familiar red cross on a white shield standing out on one shoulder. Though I noticed the sleeves were slightly singed and torn at the cuffs. “You understand my concern that one of our lieutenants has apparently turned into a dragonlover? That he has allowed demons into the Order’s sacred affairs? That, in our darkest hour, the hour we must stand fast against our enemies and not bend, our sanctum has been violated and our soldiers are in danger of corruption because their superior officer has betrayed them, and the Code, to the very creatures we swore to wipe out?”
“Man, he sure likes to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?” Riley muttered. “I feel like he needs a pulpit and a choir behind him screaming, ‘Hallelujah!’ every third sentence.”
Beside him, Tristan had a quiet but very intense coughing fit, turning away and putting a fist to his mouth. It did not go unnoticed, as the men finally looked up and spotted us.
“Sebastian.” Martin’s tone was as calm as ever, nodding to Garret and the other soldier. “St. Anthony. You’ve returned.” He nodded at the glowering man standing across the table. “I think you know Lieutenant Ward of the Eastern Chapterhouse?”
“Yes, sir,” Garret said as Tristan echoed him. “I believe we met last year.”
Lieutenant Ward stared at Garret, pale eyes glittering with contempt. “Garret Xavier Sebastian,” he announced in tone of mock grandeur. “The Perfect Soldier. The traitor who ran off with dragons.” His fat lip curled as he stared Garret down, ignoring me and everyone else in the room. “And now you’re back, and it appears that your taint is spreading. That this foul brand of lunacy is affecting even those who are supposed to lead.” Ward shot Martin a quick glare of contempt before turning on Garret again. “Were it up to me, Sebastian, I would execute you on the spot,” he said, making me stiffen. “That is what the Order demands of traitors and dragon converts. That is what you deserve. But it appears I have been voted down. That you have somehow convinced Martin and the rest of your chapterhouse to welcome evil into your ranks. So be it.” He made a vague gesture, as if washing his hands of all of us. “I have no choice but to go along with this travesty. But make no mistake.” One thick finger rose, pointed in Garret’s face. “Once the Order is back on its feet, once we have dealt with Talon and have slaughtered these demons that have been sent against us, you and all your sympathizers will be brought to justice. I will make certain of it.”
Garret’s voice was quiet, unruffled. I was amazed he could speak to this disgusting human without swearing in his face. “The Order of St. George has been scattered, sir,” he stated. “There is virtually no one left but us. Talon is on the move, and St. George, what’s left of it, cannot stop them alone. We’re going to need all the allies we can get.”
Ward snorted. “Where are your lizards, Sebastian?” he demanded. “Where are the devils that Martin claims are helping us? Are they afraid of a true son of the Order? Bring them to me. I would like to see these dragons who would have us believe they are working against Talon.”
“You’re looking at them,” I said, trying very hard to keep the growl out of my voice. “There’s no need for threats, Lieutenant. We’re standing right here.”
Ward’s gaze jerked to me. For a moment, his pale eyes widened as he took me in. “You?” he said in disbelief as I raised my chin and stared him down. “You’re a girl. A child.”
“Yes, because dragons hatch fully formed out of the egg,” Riley broke in, the smirk on his face not quite able to mask his anger. “Already grown and hungry for human souls. They certainly don’t start life as innocents. Where would the Order be if they knew half the dragons they’re slaughtering are kids who haven’t hurt anyone?”
“Innocents?” Ward’s face twisted so hard I thought he might be having a seizure. “That’s like saying fire is cold or a wolf is a vegetarian. There is no such thing as an innocent dragon. I don’t care if they’re five or five hundred, every soulless lizard will get the exact same treatment—a bullet to the back of its skull. If I can kill them while they’re young, that’s one less dragon to plague humanity when it’s an Adult.”
I felt Riley’s fury rise like an inferno, felt the subtle shift of energy that said Cobalt was very close to the surface, ready to burst out and char this insufferable human to ash. “You wanted to see us,” I said quickly, before things spiraled out of control and someone ended up shot or incinerated. “Here we are. Was it actually for a purpose, or did you just want to throw insults in our faces?”
Ward’s jaw tightened. “I would prefer bullets to insults, but that will have to wait for the moment.” His pale eyes narrowed, and he stepped around the table, looming over me. I felt Garret lean close, as well, his presence bolstering me as I stared up at the lieutenant. “Why are you here, dragon?” the officer demanded. “Martin says you are not part of Talon, but even if that were true, it does not explain why you have chosen to seek out your enemies. Why did you risk coming here? What do you hope to gain from the Order of St. Geo
rge?”
I met his gaze. “Hasn’t Martin told you?”
“Some things.” The officer’s voice was unyielding. “But I want to hear it from the dragon’s mouth. I want to hear it from you.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” Riley broke in. “Because I don’t feel like telling you a damn thing, St. George. Maybe if you hadn’t called me a soulless demon we’d be more inclined to share. As is, I’m not about to reveal anything to someone who might shoot us all in the head, or the back.”
I hesitated. I could feel Riley’s gaze burning the side of my face, hard and angry. Don’t tell him anything, it was saying. Certainly I could understand his reluctance. Letting this man set foot on an island of breeder dragons seemed like a very bad idea, as was letting him know that we now had what could be a very powerful weapon in our possession. How much had Martin already revealed? If he hadn’t told Ward our plans, I didn’t want to be the one to fill him in.
I exhaled. If we refused to say anything, that would only foster more mistrust and enmity between dragons and St. George. I didn’t like this man; in fact, I was pretty sure I hated him. He was everything that was wrong with the Order, all their the bigotry, elitism and narrow-mindedness rolled into one awful human being. I didn’t want to answer any of his questions. But that wouldn’t help our cause. It wouldn’t help the numerous breeder dragons trapped on Talon’s horrible island. I knew that, around this human, I had to be very cautious, but I could still attempt to be civil.
I felt a slight brush against my arm—Garret, quietly letting me know he was still there. I drew strength from his touch. Garret would be able to do this, I thought. Even in the face of constant, blatant hatred from the very people he used to know, when they were screaming for his execution and calling him all sorts of terrible things, he could still be calm and polite. I would never have his patience, but I knew that there were issues larger than myself and my feelings. For now, anyway, I would be the bigger person and not tell this human what he could go do with himself.