by Julie Kagawa
Mist sighed and glanced at Ember. “I have a feeling I know who’ll be leading it.”
Martin’s gaze slid to me. “And what about you, Sebastian?” he asked. “You’ve been very quiet over there. What are your thoughts on this operation?”
“I’m just a soldier, sir,” I replied. “I’ll go where I’m needed. And I’ll do what has to be done.” Though I already knew my part in the operation, where I would be. At Ember’s side, fighting to get her and the others into the room with Talon’s vessel army, making sure they had a chance to save us all. Martin seemed to realize this, as well, for he gave a faint smile and shook his head.
“So, it’s decided,” Riley announced. “We have forty-eight hours to get ready. Get everyone together, gather all the supplies and weapons we need, make sure everyone knows the plan. In two days, this is going down. And we’ll either succeed and stop Talon from taking over the world, or we’ll die trying.”
Silence fell over the room as Riley finished. As we all realized what we were up against, and what it would mean for everyone. This was it. The final confrontation. The last battle with Talon, where the only outcomes were victory, or death. Retreat was not an option. No matter how much opposition we faced, no matter how grim the odds, we could not leave until we finished what we came to do. Talon’s army had to be destroyed.
Even if that meant the death of every last soul in the resistance.
* * *
“Crazy times, ain’t it?” Tristan muttered.
I nodded absently. We were sitting on the roof of the farmhouse, Tristan’s rifle over his knee, gazing over the endless fields, forest and pastureland surrounding the property. It wasn’t Tristan’s turn for guard duty, but this was his favorite spot: high overhead, lonely and isolated, where he could see everything for miles.
“I was wondering...” Tristan mused again, looking down at the yard, where a duo of soldiers passed a small group of rogues headed for the farmhouse. The two groups nodded stiffly to each other, and then continued on their way. “Let’s say a miracle happens. Let’s say, somehow, Talon crumbles and we actually win this war. What’s going to happen to the Order, now that we’ve fought beside ‘the enemy’?” I can see the council demanding that we turn around and slaughter every dragon here, but I know that some of us—hell, maybe most of us—are going to have a problem with that. If St. George decides not to kill dragons anymore, what’s going to become of the Order? Where will we fit in?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself, and there’s no good answer, for either side. I just know the Order has to change. We can’t continue as we’ve always done, not with what’s happened.”
“Yeah.” Tristan sighed. “Guess we can worry about it when it happens. If it happens. Because, let’s face it, we’re probably all going to die when we assault that laboratory. I can’t imagine Talon is going to leave those things unguarded, even if they aren’t expecting us.” A smile crossed his face as he looked toward the distant hills. “It’s going to be huge,” he said in an almost wistful voice. “This battle, it’s more important than anything we’ve ever done. At least we’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”
I didn’t answer, and he gave me a sideways look, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Mr. Perfect Soldier,” he said teasingly. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess in the first place.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“No?”
“No.” I was, but not for the reasons Tristan thought. Constant fighting and the teachings of St. George had effectively smothered any fear of dying in battle. We all accepted that death was a certainty, a fact of life for the soldiers of the Order. We had all been trained to give our lives for the cause, and to have no regrets.
I had regrets. I regretted all the senseless killing I had done. I regretted that I wasn’t able to save more of us, and that most everyone I knew would probably die in battle, as Tristan had said. We were both soldiers. We knew the odds. I wished it hadn’t taken the Order of St. George being nearly wiped out to convince them they needed help, that the only way to stand against Talon was to ally with their greatest enemies.
But mostly, I wished I could’ve had more time with a certain red-haired girl. Not that we hadn’t seen each other lately; Ember had taken it upon herself to train the hatchlings to both fight and use a weapon, and had recruited me to help. I had spent the past two days going over gun safety, how to reload and how to shoot, while Ember took them through sparring as both a human and a dragon. A few hours of training wasn’t ideal, but it was better than none at all. At least they wouldn’t be going into battle completely unprepared.
So Ember and I had spent quite a bit of time together, preparing for and getting our side ready for the assault. We’d had a few quiet moments alone, stolen between mission briefings, updates and day-to-day tasks. But with our base of operations so crowded with dragons, soldiers and rebels, even those moments were few and far between.
I wondered what she was doing now. After dinner I’d gone looking for her, only to find a scowling Nettle barring the door to the room they shared. The black dragon had informed me that Ember had passed out on her bed from exhaustion, and that I could just keep it in my pants until she woke up again. Not wanting to disturb her, or argue with a bristling dragonell, I had retreated.
Tristan was still watching me with a dubious look on his face. “I’m not afraid,” I said, staring out over the fields. “I just... Ah, it’s not important. Forget it.”
“Uh-huh,” Tristan said, and I heard the grin in his voice. “I see.”
“What?” I muttered.
“Oh, nothing,” Tristan drawled. “Just... I remember the Garret from two years ago. All you talked about was guns, bullets and killing things. You were about as fun as a used dishrag, and the only thing that scared you more than inactivity was talking to a girl.” Leaning back on his palms, he regarded me with a lazy smirk. “You really are head over heels, aren’t you? It’s kind of adorable.”
“Shut up before I push you off this roof.”
He snickered, and I looked away to hide my burning face. Silence fell, the two of us quietly perusing the countryside, keeping watch as we’d done countless times before. No more words were passed between us; we already knew exactly what the other would say.
“There you are.”
The familiar voice made my senses flare to life. I glanced over to see Ember sticking her head through the attic window Tristan and I had used. Ducking to avoid the frame, she slid gracefully through the opening and walked over the shingles to where we sat in the middle of the roof. For a second, she stood behind me, gazing at the landscape stretching away below us.
“Wow, you can see everything from up here,” she murmured before glancing down at us, a smile crossing her lips. “So, what were you two discussing so intently?”
“Oh, not much,” Tristan said in a gleefully smug voice that fooled no one. “Certainly nothing that would make the Perfect Soldier want to hurl me off the roof.” Abruptly, he rose, yawning and stretching his long limbs. “Well, I’m tired of sitting in one place,” he announced, which was a bald-faced lie; Tristan’s specialty was remaining motionless for hours on end, waiting for his target to show itself. Something he not only excelled at, but actively enjoyed. “Think I’ll patrol the grounds for a bit, see if the guards are keeping an eye out. You two have fun up here.”
He gave me a very unsubtle grin, nodded to Ember, then turned and walked along the roof until he reached the window. After carefully maneuvering his rifle through the frame, he slipped through the opening and closed the panel behind him, leaving Ember and me alone.
Silence fell, broken only by the cicadas and the wind in the trees. Ember gazed down at me, and for a moment, I could see the outline of her other self in the moonlight, eyes glowing green, wings partially outs
tretched for balance.
“Huh,” she remarked, cocking her head. “Listen to that. You can actually hear it.”
“What?” I asked, bewildered.
“Absolutely nothing,” Ember said.
Smiling, I held out a hand. She took it and carefully stepped over my legs to sit down between my knees. I wrapped my arms around her and leaned close, feeling her body against mine, the warmth of her in the cool night air. She relaxed against me, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself sink into the feeling of peace. Tomorrow, we went to war. Tomorrow, we would lead a group of soldiers and dragons into battle with Talon, a battle in which many of us would die. Tomorrow.
“Well,” Ember mused after a moment of peaceful quiet. “This is it, isn’t it? The Very Last Battle, in capitals and italics. If we win, Talon’s army will be gone. They won’t be able to do...whatever it is they’re planning. Which is probably try to take over the world, knowing the Elder Wyrm. If we lose...”
“We won’t be around to regret it,” I murmured.
She shivered, though her voice remained contemplative. “Are you scared?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “But not for me. For everyone we could lose tomorrow.” Reaching up, I ran my fingers through her hair, brushing it from her neck. “For you.”
“I’ll be right beside you, soldier boy,” Ember said, leaning into my touch. “If we die, we go down together.”
“No,” I whispered, making her tense. Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead to the back of her neck, willing her to understand. “Ember, my life isn’t important. If I die, nothing will change. The Order will either rebuild itself or be broken completely, and Talon will continue on as it’s always done. The loss of a single soldier will mean nothing in the long run.
“But you,” I went on, before she could mount a protest, “you’ll be the one to change things, Ember. Riley, Jade, even Mist...they’ll all play a part, but if we survive, the one who will determine the future of Talon and St. George will be you. I don’t think Riley could do it—he still doesn’t trust the Order, and his underground will always come first. Jade craves the isolation of her homeland, and Mist is more comfortable in the shadows than in the thick of things. You’re the bridge between us, dragon girl. We’re all here because of you.”
Ember gave a short, humorless laugh. “No pressure or anything,” she muttered. “But you’re wrong, Garret. It’s not just me. I might be the dragon who started questioning the way things were, but I could do that...because I met you. Because I fell in love with you, a soldier of St. George, when it was supposed to be impossible. If we never met, I might still be in Talon. I could be a Viper now, killing for them, hunting down innocent dragons. Everyone here would be a target.” She shuddered. “Actually, no, scratch that. I wouldn’t even be a Viper, because the freaking Elder Wyrm would be living in my head right now.” She clenched a fist on my arm, and my stomach curled. “I wouldn’t even be myself anymore. I’d be her. The enemy of everyone here.”
Ember took a shaky breath, pressing closer to me. “If things had gone differently in Crescent Beach,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “we wouldn’t be sitting here now. If anything, you’re the reason I’m not on the other side of this war, that I’m not the enemy of the rogues and the Order, and maybe the whole world. I’m here, Garret, because of you.”
Turning in my arms, she gave me a fierce glare as a lump rose to my throat. “So don’t you dare say your life isn’t worth anything,” she finished, staring me in the eye. “And don’t you dare go into battle tomorrow with the intent of charging off into some ultimate noble sacrifice.” One hand rose, caressing the side of my face, as she gave a faint smile. “Your past has been forgiven, Garret. Those years with the Order—you’ve redeemed yourself a hundred times over. Now, you just have to forgive yourself.” Her other hand came to rest against my cheek as she leaned in and touched her forehead to mine. “We end this together, like we’ve always done. And maybe, somehow, we’ll beat the odds and win one more time. But I’m not going to do anything without you, so you’d better be there. Besides...” The smile curled at one corner, becoming teasing, though her eyes were dark with emotion. “You still have a wager to lose, soldier boy. How am I going to kick your ass in surfing if you’re gone?”
Something hot slid down my cheek, even as I smiled back. “You’re awfully confident about that,” I said, and my voice came out slightly choked. Ember gave me a defiant grin.
“Prove me wrong, then.”
“I will,” I promised, and kissed her. She slid her arms around my neck and pressed close, and for a few fleeting heartbeats, with the moon shining down on us and stars fading from the sky, the past and future disappeared, and the present was the only moment that mattered.
Pulling back, Ember shifted and curled up against me, resting her head on my chest, as we gazed at the horizon. Overhead, the moon climbed ever higher, ticking down the minutes until dawn. It wouldn’t be long now; a few hours, and then nothing would be the same. Not for the rogues, the Order, perhaps even the rest of the world.
Ember reached back to slide her fingers into my hair. “Can we stay like this a little while?” she asked. “It’s so crowded downstairs, and I’m not going to get much sleep tonight, anyway. It’s nice to be away from everything for a few minutes.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “We can stay here.” All night if you want to. Lowering my head, I kissed the side of her neck, making her sigh, and wrapped my arms around her. “If you get tired,” I told her, “go ahead and sleep. I won’t let you fall.”
She chuckled softly. “That would be the height of embarrassing—a dragon breaking its leg by rolling off a roof. Riley would never let me live it down.” She paused, lightly tracing my arm with her fingers. “We’ve come a long way,” she mused. “And we’ve done so much in a such a short time. The Order and the rogues are working together. Riley finally got to the facility and rescued everyone like he wanted, but more important, we wouldn’t have succeeded without St. George’s help. There’s hope for us, for dragons and the Order, I can feel it. I just...” She lowered her head, her next words almost inaudible. “I wish Dante was here to see it, too.”
Dante
“Are you ready, Dante?” asked the Elder Wyrm.
Standing in the Elder Wyrm’s new office, I took a breath to calm the emotions churning in my stomach, and nodded.
Everything was in place. The men, the security, the special “surprises” we had planned. All was foolproof. Nothing would slip past us this time. When Cobalt and the Order of St. George finally made their move, no matter what they had prepared, we would be ready for them.
And when Ember inevitably showed up, when I stood face-to-face with my twin once more, I knew what I had to do.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said confidently. This was it, the end of an era. It was time to stop these games, once and for all. “I’m ready.”
Ember
In military terms, the darkest hour before dawn was known as Before Morning Nautical Twilight. Historically, according to Garret, it was a favorite time to launch a surprise attack on enemy forces, because it was the time when the human body was at its least alert. It also gave you a full day of war during which, hopefully, you could press your advantage and leave the enemy scrambling for control the rest of the battle.
That was the theory, anyway.
I sat beside Garret in the back of the semi truck, feeling every bounce and rumble of the gravel road through the metal walls of the container. Outside, it was dark; the only light came from a couple lanterns set on the floor of the semi, but at least it wasn’t cold. Not with the amount of bodies surrounding us.
Beside us, covering nearly every square inch of the container, a small army of dragons waited in silence. Hatchlings, Juveniles and dragonells sat quietly along the wall, their expressions grim with anticipation. A few were asleep, curled up in corners or
leaning against a friend, and I envied them the few hours of oblivion. We’d been traveling through the night, and even with several pillows, blankets and mattresses scattered about, the bed of a semi truck was not comfortable. Riley was up front driving the rig, with Wes and Mist beside him in the cab, and I also envied them the additional comfort of padded seats. But I had volunteered to stay in the back with the rest of the hatchlings and dragonells, so I couldn’t complain. At least there were no soldiers of St. George in the container with us—well, besides Garret. The rest of the Order were trailing behind in a second semi, and it was a relief not to have to worry about certain soldiers taking offense over sharing space with dragons.
Though, there being less of them, they probably had a lot more room in the back of the truck. Stupid St. George prejudices. We were allies, yes, but there was still a long way to go.
Beside me, Garret was calm. He was dressed like a soldier, in a black armored vest, gloves and combat boots, with a variety of weapons holstered to his belt or across his chest. I was dressed similarly, with a vest over my Viper suit, an M4 over my shoulder and a pistol holstered to my belt. His gloved hand was curled around mine in the space between us, and I could feel the easy rise and fall of his breath.
I wished I could find some of his tranquility. For the past hour, I’d been trying to calm myself, to ease the frantic writhing of nerves in my stomach the closer we got to our destination. I knew the hatchlings and the dragonells were just as scared, probably more so, and they were all holding up remarkably well, considering the situation. But to me, gazing over the crowded container, they all seemed very young. Which was silly, as most of the hatchlings were my age or older, and some of the dragonells were Juveniles. They had their whole lives ahead of them, centuries of living left to do. But, for some of them at least, it was all going to end today.
I shivered, and beside me Garret turned his head, a worried look on his face. “You all right?” he asked.