by Julie Kagawa
With a rumble of a landslide, the Elder Wyrm finally collapsed. Her massive head struck the ground a few feet from mine, slitted green eyes rolling up toward the sky. Blood pooled from her side and spread over the rocky ground in a grim flood as the Elder Wyrm shuddered, gasping for breath as her life bled away.
I pushed myself to my feet and, though my ribs felt like they would explode out of my body, forced myself back to human form. Taking a few steps forward, I came to a stop at the head of the Elder Wyrm, feeling the gravity of the moment press down on me as I watched the passing of the oldest dragon in the world. Her jaws moved, a small, incredulous voice emerging from within.
“Daughter,” it whispered. “What...have you done?”
I swallowed hard. “What I had to,” I whispered. “I’ve put a stop to your plans to rule the world, to declare war on humanity. They don’t deserve it. Dragons and humans can learn to live together. Look at what we’ve done today, with the Order of St. George. We just had to find that common ground.”
The Elder Wyrm gave a weak, raspy chuckle. “Foolish,” she whispered. “You...you are just like me. Not only in blood. We are one and the same. I once thought to change the world, to make a difference for our kind. You will see...in time. If you live as long as I, you will come to know mankind’s true colors. And you will have to make a decision, as I did.”
A shudder went through her, and she made a strangled noise and gazed up at the sky. “How?” she whispered. “How can this...be? I should have been immortal. I was supposed to live...forever.”
Then the brilliant light faded from her eyes, her body stilled and the whole earth seemed to shiver as the Elder Wyrm, the founder of Talon and the oldest dragon in existence, finally moved no more.
I took a deep, cleansing breath, feeling something hot run down my cheeks to mix with the rain. Overhead, the clouds parted, the storm faded away and the morning sun shone over the battlefield, glittered off scales and armor and the massive body of the Elder Wyrm in the center of it all.
A lump caught in my throat. I watched as the rogues and soldiers of St. George began clustering around us, cheers and shouts of triumph rising into the air. I closed my eyes, as a swirl of emotions rushed to the surface. Relief that it was done, that we’d made it. Anger at what we’d had to sacrifice to win. And a deep, bone-numbing grief for everyone we’d lost. For friends and allies who gave their lives for our victory, and for a sibling who couldn’t be saved, but who had come through in the end, as he had always done.
“Ember.”
I turned. Garret stood behind me, blood trickling down his face, his combat vest torn and shredded. He held out an arm, and I stepped into him, pressing my face to his chest as he hugged me tight. And for a moment, we just stood there, numb with relief, dazed with the realization.
It’s finally over.
There was a blast of wind, and Riley landed close, breathing hard. With a ripple of energy, he Shifted back to human form and staggered toward us.
“Hell,” he whispered, gazing up at the massive corpse. His voice was laced with both amazement and unrestrained glee as he shook his head. “We did it. We actually fucking did it. The Elder Wyrm is gone.” Laughing, he turned and threw his arms around us, pulling us all into a manic group hug. “Talon is dead,” he whispered fiercely. “The organization will be nothing without the Elder Wyrm. After all these centuries, we can finally start to breathe again.”
No, I thought as Riley pulled back, the rogue too elated to be embarrassed. We weren’t done yet. The Elder Wyrm and her army might be gone, taking with them her plans to rule the world, but the work was far from over. With the death of its leader, Talon would be in shambles, the Order was a mess and the future of both was uncertain. Neither organization would just go away; Talon was too big, its reach too extensive for it to simply vanish. Despite the Elder Wyrm’s plans, it was still the only place where dragons could exist without fear. And I realized what had to happen, what that would mean for all of us.
Talon had to continue. Too many dragons depended on the organization to keep them safe—maybe not from the Order, but from the rest of the world. We weren’t quite ready to reveal our existence, and the world wasn’t ready for us even if we were. Talon and the Order both had to change, that much was certain. But with the Patriarch, the Elder Wyrm and the heir of Talon all dead, who would step up to take their places?
I swallowed hard. Well, Dante, I thought as Garret slipped his arms around my waist from behind. Looks like you got your wish, in the end. I’ll be going home, after all. I took a deep breath and swiped a hand over my eyes. I just wish you were here with me.
“Hey,” Garret murmured in my ear, and I peeked back at him, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. He gave a sad smile and brushed a fingertip over my skin. “Don’t think about it, dragon girl,” he whispered, drawing me closer. “There’ll be time to mourn everyone soon enough. We won, and we’re alive. Savor this victory, for what it’s worth.”
I smiled shakily and looked back at the cheering, celebrating soldiers and dragons. Soldiers grinned and slapped each other on the back, while hatchlings bounced around each other and the humans, uncaring that they were once their greatest enemies. Wes had ventured close and gave a yelp of surprise as Nettle pounced on him in ecstatic glee, knocking him on his back. His cursing demands for her to get off were lost in the chaos around him, until a soldier pulled him upright and gave him a hearty slap on the arm, making him wince.
A pale-haired girl walked around the body of the Elder Wyrm, coming to a halt at the edge of the crowd. Mist watched the celebrations with an amused detachment, a faint smile on her lips, though her blue gaze scanned the area, searching for something.
Breaking away from Ward, Riley turned around, strode across the yard and, without hesitation, pulled her into a deep kiss. Mist’s eyes went huge, her body stiffening. Most of the hatchlings stopped what they were doing to stare and, after a moment, began cheering Riley instead. When he finally pulled back, Mist’s eyes were still wide as she stared up at him, and for a moment, we all held our breath, wondering if she would slap the rogue or shove him away. Riley offered a tiny, crooked grin, and Mist’s jaw tightened, right before she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down again.
I smiled and leaned into Garret, feeling his arms tighten around me, the solid thump of his heart echoing mine.
The Elder Wyrm was dead.
Time for a new beginning.
Epilogue
Riley
Two weeks later...
“I bloody can’t believe I have to do this.”
I watched Wes stuff his laptop into a bag and zip it shut with a fierce exasperation. His scowl was even deeper than normal as he swung the bag onto his shoulder and turned to glare at me. “I once promised myself that I would never go back there,” he said. “I don’t even know why they want me to attend—it’s not like I’m the bloody war hero.”
“You were part of the final battle,” I told him. “You were my second in command for years. According to most, you are a bloody war hero.”
Wes snorted. “Yes, well, the day I start taking the masses seriously is the day I set fire to my computer.” He shook his head and scowled out the door. “I was supposed to be on a plane to London right now,” he muttered. “You know, back home, to see the folks who thought I was dead for nearly a decade? And now I have to postpone the thing I’ve dreamed about for years, because some bloody hatchling decided she needs to hold a meeting right now.”
“You’ll get your chance to go home.” I sighed. “That ‘bloody hatchling’ has even agreed to pay for it, and to provide information for whatever cover-up story you’re going to tell them. Which you’re going to need. I trust you’re not informing them that you’ve been working for dragons for the past several years.”
Wes’s look of blatant disgust could strip paint from the walls. “Yes, Riley, that�
�s exactly what I’m going to do,” he scoffed. “Just waltz in and say, ‘Oh, hi, Mum, hi, Dad. Yeah, I’ve been gone a bloody long time, haven’t I? Well, funny story—I’ve been helping these rogue dragons wage a war on an oppressive organization that is also run by dragons. Sorry I didn’t call.’”
I rolled my eyes. “So stop complaining,” I said. “You’ll get to go home soon. You’ve been away for nearly a decade, another day or two isn’t going to matter.”
“I’m a bloody war hero. I’m allowed to complain.”
With a rustle of cloth, Mist walked into the room and my senses prickled. The Basilisk was dressed in heels and a dark skirt, and her silver hair was pinned atop her head. She did not look like the quietly aloof girl of the past few days. She looked poised, elegant and businesslike, and gave my jeans, boots and leather jacket a critical raised brow. “You’re wearing that to the meeting?”
“What?” I grinned at her. “I’m wearing a nice shirt. Besides, everyone there knows who I am. Why spoil their expectations?”
Wes shook his head. “I’ll wait in the car,” he muttered, and swept by with a last rueful look at Mist. She waited until he had left the room and the farmhouse door had closed behind him before turning back to me with a pained smile.
“I spoke to the Archivist this morning,” she said, and her voice was subdued. “He...relieved me of my duties to him. I’m no longer part of that circle. Or welcome back in the Vault.”
I frowned. “Any idea why?”
“Apparently, he believes I can do more good here, with you. That my Basilisk training will better serve this new faction he and the CEO have implemented.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course, with the upheaval and the restructuring of every existing department within Talon, no one is really certain what is going on. I imagine it will be months before the Basilisks are truly back on their feet. And even then, I doubt we’ll be doing the same things that we’ve done before. No more stealing company secrets or blowing up buildings, not with the new management.
“So...” She shrugged. “Until that time, or until Talon calls for me again, I guess I’m stuck with you. Lucky me.”
I sobered. “You can leave if you want, Mist,” I told her, though I wanted to kick myself for saying it. “No one is stopping you. You’re not beholden to Talon, the Archivist or anyone now. I would hate it, but...you truly have that choice. If you want to leave and see the world, that’s up to you.”
Her lips twisted in a half smirk. “That’s assuming I know what to do without Talon,” she admitted, a strange note of bitterness in her voice. “You forget, I’m not like you and your band of outlaws, Cobalt. Talon, my job with the Basilisks...that was my whole life. Without the organization... I’m not really sure what I’m going to do.”
I took two steps forward, closing the distance between us. She peered up at me, wary but almost defiant, and I smiled back. “Well, it is lucky for you that I happen to be an expert on life without Talon,” I told her. “If you like, I’d be happy to show you.”
Her brow arched sardonically, making me shrug. “Up to you, of course,” I went on. “But I don’t expect I’ll be babysitting the hatchlings forever, now that there’s no need to hide from the organization. And I’ve seen a fair bit of the world myself. Someday, I’d like to get out there again, without having to worry about my network and keeping everyone alive.”
I reached down and took one of her hands. A shiver ran up my arm as her fingers curled lightly around mine. “I’d...be happy to have you along, Mist,” I said quietly. “There are places in the world where we can both be ourselves, with no humans around to see. I’d love to show them to you.”
“Mmm.” The Basilisk gave me a scrutinizing look, but didn’t pull back. “And the new CEO of Talon isn’t going to want you around to help rebuild?” she asked. “The hero of the final battle? The leader of the free dragons?”
“I’m sure I can convince her that I’ve earned a vacation.”
She laughed. Inside, Cobalt stirred lazily, content to let me take the lead on this. There was a dull ache whenever I thought of Ember, but it was barely noticeable now. I still wasn’t sure if dragons could feel the same emotions humans did, but...what the hell. If this was the start of something bigger, so be it. I didn’t think I would ever get a second chance.
“Well, then,” Mist said, smiling up at me. “I guess we’ll have to see where this goes.”
Garret
When I walked into the room, the line of soldiers waiting for me snapped to attention.
“At ease,” I told them, and they relaxed, including Tristan, standing at the head of the line. Coming to a halt in front of the men, I took a moment to study each of their faces, evaluating my forces, the ones who had survived.
Eleven soldiers. That was all that was left of the Order of St. George. On this side of the world, anyway. If any of our neighboring chapterhouses had survived, we hadn’t heard from them. The Order had shrunk from a few hundred individuals from chapterhouses across the United States, to these eleven soldiers before me. Talon’s devastation had been almost absolute.
Almost.
“Lieutenant St. Anthony,” I said, glancing at Tristan. “Have the men been informed of the situation?”
“Yes, sir,” Tristan replied in a tone that made me wince inside. I was still getting used to being called sir by everyone, including my former partner. But after Lieutenant Ward had suddenly and unexpectedly resigned, claiming he no longer had a place in this new world where dragons were not monsters, the vote had been unanimous: I was the new commander of the Western Chapterhouse. Which meant, unless someone of higher rank showed up to challenge me, I would lead the United States Order of St. George.
Such as it was.
I wished it didn’t have to be me. I wished Martin had survived; he was the best suited to lead the Order. After the assault on Talon, the lieutenant had been brought home and buried with the rest of the fallen, his cross rising above the others in the cemetery, somber and proud. I wished he was here now, to tell me how a true leader should act. But St. George needed someone, someone who knew dragons, and who would make decisions based not on fear, but on understanding. The Order needed me, but more important, the dragons needed someone to be their voice. I couldn’t falter now.
I faced the men before me, recognizing each of them. They had all been there, in the last, terrible battle. They had all seen the horror of the clones and the terror of the Elder Wyrm. And they had all stood with a hatchling or rogue dragon fighting beside them as an ally. They were ready to begin something new.
“Today is a new day for the Order,” I began. “Today we will take the first steps toward peace with those we once considered enemies. Today, Talon and St. George will finally reach an accord. I know this goes against everything the Order taught us, but everyone here has seen the truth, just as I did. They’re not monsters. Just like humans, they’re individuals with their own fears, ambitions, regrets, everything. Most important, they don’t have to be our enemies. We can learn to work together, but the Order has to change to see that happen. I’m committed to seeing that change, but know that if you stay, we will face opposition. It will be a hard road at first, and if there are other survivors within St. George, some of our own will certainly challenge us.” I paused, and saw some of them nod; they knew, as well as I did, the minds of the Order would not be changed overnight. “But we must stand firm,” I went on. “We cannot let blind hatred drive us any longer. This is just the first step toward peace with dragons—it will take all of us to make it last.”
“Sir.” One of the men stepped forward; I recognized him as a soldier named Alexander, maybe two years older than me. He’d been part of Ward’s group, but had yet to develop the sadistic hatred the Eastern Chapterhouse soldiers were famous for. “I have a question,” he continued as I nodded at him. “Sir, what will happen to the Order if we’re not at war with the dragons?
What will be the purpose of St. George, if we are no longer called to fight? Will the Order eventually be disbanded?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. Not for a long while. Perhaps, someday in the future the world will no longer need the Order of St. George. But right now, we are the only human organization who is aware of the existence of dragons. We will provide...not opposition, but a counterbalance to Talon. There will be dragons who share the Elder Wyrm’s view, who might wish to harm the organization or humanity itself. Talon will call on us if they need the Order’s help to deal with problem individuals within the organization. And as we grow and rebuild our numbers, the Order of St. George will stand vigilant, ready to act should Talon attempt a hostile takeover once more.”
He nodded gravely. We might not be at war any longer, but we all knew the threat the organization represented. I didn’t want to think it could happen, but if the worst came to pass and another Elder Wyrm rose to power, the Order of St. George was still humanity’s best defense against Talon and the threat of dragons.
I hoped it would never come to that.
“Are there any more questions?” I asked, and when no one answered, I turned to Tristan, standing rigidly beside me. “Are we ready to go, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir,” Tristan replied. “The car is waiting out front now.”
“Dismissed,” I told the soldiers before me. “Alexander, you’re in charge until we return. Contact me if anything unusual happens.”
“Sir.”
“Let’s go,” I told Tristan, and we left the room, heading outside into the hot Arizona sun.
* * *
“Damn,” Tristan muttered a few hours later. He craned his neck, gazing up at the skyscraper towering overhead. It loomed against the evening sky, a monolith of glass and steel rising into the twilight. “To think, an office of the Elder Wyrm was right here, and we never realized it.”