Inferno

by Julie Kagawa

  I hoped I would prove to be as worthy.

  He smiled at me as he approached, but paused a few feet away, sweeping his gaze around the room. “I’m...not entirely sure how to address the president of Talon in her office,” he said in a low voice, as if people could be listening. “I wouldn’t want rumors to spread, especially if their president is alone with the commander of St. George.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I told him, waving an airy hand. “I had the Archivist do a thorough check. No cameras in the Elder Wyrm’s office, no security devices, and the walls are completely soundproof. What the president of Talon does in her private chambers is no one’s business but her own.”

  His smile widened. “Good to know,” he said, and closed the distance between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he slipped his around my waist, pressing us close. As his lips met mine, I closed my eyes, breathing him in, savoring the moment as long as I could. With all the changes to Talon and the upheaval within the organization and St. George, I hadn’t seen Garret in over a week, and I’d missed him more than I’d thought possible. It had killed me a few short minutes ago, glimpsing him over the table, knowing I couldn’t go over and hug him or even talk to him like I wanted to. No, I was the CEO of Talon now, and I had to behave accordingly, even among my closest friends.

  Pulling back, Garret regarded me with solemn eyes, his pupils contracted until they were thin black lines against the gray. My heart sped up, and Garret must’ve sensed it, for his brow furrowed, and he gently stroked my cheek. “What’s wrong?” he murmured.

  I shook myself. “Nothing,” I replied, seeing my reflection in those silvery irises. “It’s just...hard to believe that we’re here. That we’re alive, and together, at the end of everything.” He bent forward and kissed me again, long and lingering, and I sank into his touch.

  Several minutes passed, and the windows along the wall were in danger of fogging up, before I forced myself to pull away.

  “Garret, wait. There’s something I have to show you. I didn’t call you in here just for...this.” He cocked his head, looking puzzled, and I felt color creep up my face. “Not that I’m complaining, at all, and what the CEO does in her own office is not anyone’s business but her own, but... I’m going to stop talking now, because the CEO of Talon does not stutter like a vapid teenager.” I frowned at the grinning soldier. “And you will tell no one what transpired here, especially the Archivist.”

  Garret chuckled and released me. “Of course not, Madam President,” he said, looking far too innocent as he stepped back. “The CEO of Talon and the commander of St. George are nothing but professional. In public.”

  Firmly telling myself not to blush, I walked around my desk, pulled open a drawer and withdrew a large manila envelope.

  “These are the results of the tests you wanted,” I told him, sliding the envelope across the desk. “I had our scientists run a thorough examination of your blood, and you were right.” I paused, swallowing hard, as Garret picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. “There is a large percentage of dragon DNA in your blood,” I told him, “and traces of it throughout your body. From the tissue samples they took, the scientists were able to conclude that your cells regenerate at an amazing speed, almost identical to a dragon’s healing capabilities. They’ve never seen anything like it before. A couple of them wanted to know your identity so they could ‘detain’ you for further study. I told them absolutely not, your identity would not be revealed, and I would eat them if they asked me again.”

  Garret smiled at this, still studying the documents. “But you’re in no danger of this killing you, Garret,” I continued. “Quite the opposite, in fact. The scientists noted that the dragon DNA continuously regenerates and heals the human tissue, to the point where it actually seems to prevent normal human aging.”

  Garret blinked and looked up, a frown crossing his face. “What does that mean?”

  “They’re not sure exactly,” I admitted. “It’s all theory at this point. But they’ve posited that you could have a longer lifespan than an average human. Much...longer.”

  Garret’s voice was quietly awed. “As long as a dragon’s?”

  “Maybe.” I took a breath, trying to control both the fear and wonder that had been hovering inside ever since I’d heard the news. “Like I said, they’re not really certain. They would have to run more tests, but it will likely be years before they have any sort of real answer. But I did want you to know that there is the possibility of you living...for a very long time, Garret. Maybe as long as a dragon.”

  Garret didn’t answer right away. He stared back down at the papers with an unreadable look on his face. “I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a shock,” I said at last, wondering what was going through his head. “And I hope this won’t threaten the truce between Talon and St. George. The Order might get suspicious if they notice that the commander never seems to age.”

  He gave his head a little shake and tossed the envelope back on the desk. “I’m sure the Order will have a few questions,” he stated softly before giving me a faint smile. “In a decade or two.”

  I cocked my head at his nonchalance. “You’re not worried about this?”

  “About spending a few centuries with you? I think I’m okay with that.” The faint smile turned into a full-blown grin that lit up the room. “Though Riley might have something to say about it.”

  My heart swelled like a balloon, even as a lump caught in my throat. Turning, I walked to the enormous windows lining my office wall, and gazed out at the sky. Far below, the city glittered with a million blinking lights, but I looked toward the distant horizon and the final sliver of sunlight sinking into the dark.

  “Everything is changing,” I murmured, feeling Garret slip his arms around me from behind. “There’s so much to do, and we’ll both be so busy. I have to lead Talon, and you’re the commander of St. George. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

  “I don’t, either.” Garret bent close, resting his head on my shoulder, as we both gazed out over the city. “But I spent the last year thinking that I was going to die. Now that the war is finally over and we’re both still alive, I don’t want to waste a single moment of the time we’ve been granted. Especially now.” His arms tightened around my waist, his breath warm on my cheek. “I love you, Ember,” he whispered. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here. And who knows? Maybe it will be longer than we thought. Maybe it’ll be forever.”

  “Forever,” I mused, as the last sliver of sunlight finally vanished into the dark. “Forever sounds good. Let’s go for forever.”

  * * * * *

  Read on for an excerpt from Legion by Julie Kagawa.

  Legion

  by Julie Kagawa

  Dante

  She was always the favored one.

  “Ember,” Mr. Gordon sighed for the second time that hour. “Please pay attention. This is important. Are you listening?”

  “Yes,” my twin muttered, not looking up from her desk, where she was doodling cartoon figures into her textbook. “I’m listening.”

  Mr. Gordon frowned. “All right, then. Can you tell me what the fleshy part of a human’s ear is called?”

  I raised my hand. As expected, Mr. Gordon ignored me.

  “Ember?” he prompted when she didn’t answer. “Do you know the answer to the question?”

  Ember sighed and put down her pencil. “The earlobe,” she said in a voice that clearly stated, I’m bored and I want to be somewhere else.

  “Yes.” Mr. Gordon nodded. “The fleshy part of a human’s ear is the earlobe. Very good, Ember. Write that down—it will be on the test tomorrow.

  “All right,” he continued as Ember scribbled something in her notebook. I doubted it was the answer, or anything to do with the test, so I jotted the definition down, just in case she forgot. “Next question. Human
hair and fingernails are made of the same substance a dragon’s claws and horns are made of. What is this substance called? Ember?”

  “Um.” Ember blinked. Clearly, she had no idea. “I dunno.”

  I started to raise my hand but stopped. There was no point.

  “We discussed this yesterday,” Mr. Gordon continued sternly. “All through class, we talked about the human anatomy. You should know this. A human’s hair and fingernails, and a dragon’s claws and horns, are all made of...?”

  Come on, Ember, I thought at her. You know this. It’s in your brain, even if you were staring out the window most of class yesterday.

  Ember shrugged, slumping in her chair in a pose that said, I don’t want to be here. Our teacher sighed and turned to me. “Dante?”

  “Keratin,” I answered.

  He gave a brisk nod but turned back to Ember. “Yes, keratin. Your brother was paying attention,” he told her, narrowing his eyes. “Why can’t you do the same?”

  Ember glowered. Comparing her to me was always a surefire way to make her mad. “I don’t see why I have to know the difference between scales and human toenails,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “Who cares what it’s called? I bet the humans don’t know that hair is made of kraken, either.”

  “Keratin,” Mr. Gordon corrected, frowning back at her. “And it is highly important that you know what it is you are Shifting into, inside and out. If you want to mimic humans perfectly, you must know them perfectly. Even if they do not.”

  “I still think it’s dumb,” Ember mumbled, looking longingly out the window at the desert and open sky beyond the chain-link fence that surrounded the compound. Our teacher’s expression darkened.

  “Well, then, let’s give you some motivation. If you and Dante don’t make at least ninty-five percent on your tests tomorrow, you both will be banned from the game room for a month.” Ember jerked in her seat, eyes going wide with outrage, and Mr. Gordon gave her a cold smile. “That is how important you knowing the human anatomy is to Talon. So I would study, both of you.” He waved a hand at the door. “You’re dismissed.”

  * * *

  “It’s totally unfair,” Ember raged as we walked across the dusty yard to our dorms. Overhead, the Nevada sun beat down on me, chasing away the chill of the air-conditioned classroom and warming my skin. Or, should I say, my epidermis?

  I smirked at my own joke, knowing Ember wouldn’t get it. And, in her current mood, she wouldn’t appreciate it even if she did.

  “Gordon is a bully,” Ember growled, kicking a pebble with her shoe, sending it bouncing over the dusty ground. “He can’t ban us from the game room for a whole month—that’s completely insane. I’d go crazy—there’s nothing else to do around here.”

  “Well, you could try paying attention,” I suggested as we neared the long cement building at the edge of the fence. As expected, the suggestion did not go over well.

  “How am I supposed to pay attention when everything is so boring?” Ember snapped, wrenching open the door. Inside, the living room was cool to the point of chilly. A pair of leather sofas sat in an L around a coffee table, and a large television hung on the opposite wall, its huge screen shiny and dark. It had over a hundred channels, everything from sci-fi to news stations to movies and sports—an attempt to keep us pacified, I suspected, though it never really worked on Ember. She would rather be outside than sitting in a room watching TV all day. The room was also spotlessly clean, despite the mess a certain sibling made of it nearly every day.

  Ember stalked to one of the couches and tossed her books onto the cushions. “They never give me a break,” she continued, ignoring the texts as one of them slid off the leather and fell to the floor. “They just keep pushing me—do better, go faster, pay more attention. Nothing I do is ever good enough.” She gave me a half joking, half sour glare. “They never do that with you, Tweedledum.”

  “That’s because I actually pay attention.” I set my bag on the table and headed into the kitchen for something to drink. Our live-in caretaker, Mr. Stiles, was not in sight, so I figured he was either out or in his room. “They never have reason to come after me.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t know how lucky you are,” Ember grumbled, heading down the hall to her quarters. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room cramming for this stupid test tomorrow. If you hear a crash, don’t panic. I’ve probably just smashed my head through the wall.”

  Right, I thought as the door to her room opened and closed with a bang. Lucky.

  Alone in the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of orange juice and perched on the breakfast stool, brooding into the cup.

  Lucky, Ember had said. Of course it would seem lucky to her. She was the favorite, the one they all paid attention to. It had always been that way. In our eleven years together, our instructors always seemed to ask her questions first, show her things first, make sure she knew what she was doing. They pushed her hard and insisted she do things right, not noticing—or seeming to care—that I already knew the answers. And when I did get them to notice, it was always to set an example for my sister. See, Dante knows the answers. Dante already has this down. I would kill for half the favor they showed her.

  Draining the glass, I put it into the dishwasher before heading down the hall to my room. I just had to do better, I thought, resolve stealing over me. I had to work for the attention that came so easily to my sister. Ember was hotheaded and always getting into trouble; it was up to me to watch out for us both. But at the same time, if I kept working hard and excelling, eventually they would realize that I always did better than my twin. They would realize that I was the smart one; I was the one who did everything right. If Talon didn’t notice what I could do, I would just make them see.

  * * *

  “Mr. Hill? The Elder Wyrm is ready for you. Please, go in.”

  Sitting on the couch in the cold, brightly lit lobby, I raised my head as the present caught up with me, shaking away dark thoughts and the memories of the past. I’d been thinking of Ember a lot recently, her presence weighing heavily on my mind. Guilt, perhaps, that I had failed her? That I wasn’t able to keep my twin safe from her worst enemy—herself?

  Standing, I nodded to the human assistant and walked toward the huge doors of Elder Wyrm’s office. I couldn’t think like that anymore. I wasn’t eleven years old, desperate to prove I was worth something. I wasn’t the pathetic, overlooked twin of the Elder Wyrm’s daughter. No, I had proved myself, to all of Talon, that I was worthy of my heritage. I was the Elder Wyrm’s right-hand man, the one she trusted with Talon’s most important campaign.

  And someday, if everything worked out, I would lead all of Talon. Someday, this would all be mine. I was close, so very close, to achieving what I’d set out to do all those years ago. I couldn’t falter now.

  The enormous wooden doors to the CEO’s office loomed above me, brass handles glimmering in the light. I didn’t knock or wait for the Elder Wyrm to call me in. I simply opened the doors and entered.

  The Elder Wyrm was sitting at her desk, manicured nails clicking over the keyboard as her eyes scanned the computer screen. Her presence still filled the office, massive and terrifying, even though she wasn’t looking at me. I walked quietly across the room and stood at the front of the desk with my hands clasped behind my back. Having an open invitation into the Elder Wyrm’s office was one thing. Interrupting the Elder Wyrm, without waiting for her to acknowledge your presence, was another. I was heir to one of the largest empires in the corporate world, but she was still the CEO of Talon and the most powerful dragon in existence. Not even the son of the Elder Wyrm was exempt from protocol.

  The Elder Wyrm didn’t say anything or look up from her task, and I waited silently for her to finish. Finally, she clicked the mouse button, pushed the keyboard tray beneath the desktop and looked up at me. Her green-eyed gaze, identical to Ember’s and my own, pierced the space b
etween us.

  “Dante.” She smiled and, unlike that of many other dragons who could only imitate a smile, hers seemed genuine. Of course, that was what made her so dangerous; you never knew if what she was showing you was real or not. “Good to see you again. How was your trip back?”

  “It was fine, ma’am. Thank you.”

  She nodded and rose, gesturing to the duo of chairs in front of the desk. I sank into one obediently and crossed my legs as the Elder Wyrm came around the desk to pin me with her stare. The weight of her gaze was suffocating, but I settled back with a calm yet expectant expression, careful not to show any fear.

  “Plans are in motion,” the Elder Wyrm said, and her low voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Everything is nearly in place. There is just one thing missing now. One last thing we must take care of.”

  My heart beat faster. I could guess what that final piece was. Of course it would be her. Even now, she didn’t realize her importance.

  “Ember Hill must be retrieved,” the Elder Wyrm went on, her tone becoming frighteningly intense. The hairs on my arms rose, and something inside me shrank down in terror as the Elder Wyrm speared me with that terrible gaze. “It is imperative that she return to Talon. No more mistakes. This is what we are going to do...”

  Copyright © 2017 by Julie Kagawa

  Author Note

  When I was in high school, I wrote a fantasy about a cold, hardened dragonslayer who met and fell in love with the dragon he was hunting. The setting was different; it was a typical medieval world with castles and knights and swords, but those two characters—Ember the dragon and Garret the dragonslayer—stayed with me for years and years. I’m thrilled that I finally got to tell their story.