Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

  Selivia recognized a few of the castle cur-dragons. They had lived with her family her whole life, melting snow, carrying messages, and providing company as needed. They had been fed and taken care of for generations in their cozy underground roost. The Red Devil must have ousted them from their cave when he took over.

  Some of these cur-dragons weren’t from the castle, though. They had the scruffy, wild look of the feral creatures that roamed the outer edges of the city. It looked as though every single cur-dragon in Vertigon had taken refuge here, finding safety in numbers after the arrival of the bigger predators.

  The castle-born dragons pushed through the throng to nose at Selivia’s hands and huff greetings. She knew them all by name, and she hugged them as if they were her family members, taking comfort from their warm little bodies. She spotted Rumy’s siblings, the largest of the bunch by far. They had grown even bigger since she had seen them last. She patted their scaly heads, wondering if they knew that the true dragon they scented on her was most likely their father.

  A roar rattled the building. The battle was still going on out there. Selivia was afraid Mav wouldn’t last much longer. This distraction had been necessary to save the people, but she worried her friend had taken it too far in challenging the Red Devil directly.

  The unmistakable sound of a dragon screaming in pain reached them through the small windows. Selivia’s eyes filled with tears. He didn’t have to keep fighting. He should save himself. She’d be safe in here with dozens of cur-dragons for protection.

  Dozens of cur-dragons. She looked around at the little creatures. They had gathered here to seek safety in numbers, but maybe they’d be willing to help.

  Selivia dropped to her knees among the cur-dragons and told them her plan.

  Sora’s palms were bleeding, and her skirt was torn. She’d lost track of how many times she’d fallen as she hurtled down the path. It had been ages since the last true dragon attack. Selivia’s distraction must be working.

  Blasts of Fire lit up the Fissure every so often like lightning strikes, accompanied by the distant sounds of violence. With each strobe, the trees got a little closer. Sora prayed her sister wasn’t in the middle of whatever was happening up there. All she could do right now was run and urge her people to run with her.

  Another burst of light pushed back the darkness. She had reached the trees at last! She stumbled to a halt as the first sheltering branches welcomed her in. Scared faces peeked out from among the tree trunks, including Master Corren’s, illuminated by the Firegold on his collar.

  “Queen Sora! You made it!”

  “How many are here so far?” It was too dark to identify most of the people waiting for her.

  “I’ve counted thirty-two,” said a female voice, as breathless as her own. “My little ones went ahead. There are thickets where people can rest.”

  “Good. Let’s get everyone settled. We have another long march tomorrow night.”

  More survivors were hurrying into the woods after her. Sora used the intermittent light from above to organize them, sending some to the thickets to rest and others to press on to the marble caves farther down the slope. Everyone was wiped out and rattled from their flight. Now that they had reached the woods, they should be safe through the coming daylight hours. The following night, they would begin the slow march away from the mountain.

  Another group of stragglers reached her. Lima Ruminor was among them, along with her designated jailers. She looked haggard, and her eyes were flat black pools. She swayed to a halt while her guards spoke to Sora.

  “The dragons are still fighting up there,” Wora Wenden said. “I think the green-and-black one is involved.”

  Mav? “Did you see my sister?”

  “No, my queen. There’s no sign of the princess.”

  Sora bit her lip, forcing down the fear swelling within. Selivia was an Amintelle too. She had the right to fight—and to risk death—for their people. She couldn’t even look at Lima as she said, “If you can walk, continue down the path until you reach a fork. The left turn will take you to a cavern. There should be room for a few more in there.”

  They followed her instructions without question. Most moved sluggishly, as if in a dream. Utter relief at reaching the trees seemed to overtake every other sense.

  Sora gritted her teeth and prepared to greet the next group. She couldn’t relax and let anyone else take charge—not until the last of the survivors made it to the woods. She would do whatever it took to make sure her people got safely through the Fissure. Even if her sister never made it off the mountain.

  Selivia crouched at one of the spectator entrances of the King’s Arena, marshaling her little soldiers. The cur-dragons gathered around her, sniffing her hands and rubbing against her legs, as eager to please as kittens. She hoped they understood exactly what she was asking them to do.

  Mav and the Red Devil were still fighting in the skies above King’s Peak. Both were incredibly tenacious, but they were also tired. Their bursts of Fire came less frequently, and they didn’t dive at each other anymore, conserving their energy for clamping their jaws around each other’s necks and attempting to wrestle each other into submission.

  The true dragon spectators knew the end was coming. Jaws snapped and wings beat in anticipation. Whoever won would be their new ruler. Selivia knew how herds of animals worked—even dragons. The most dominant creature had to lead the pack.

  And Selivia was about to tip the balance in Mav’s favor.

  “Ready?” she said to the cur-dragons. Teall, one of Rumy’s sisters, chirped her approval. The rest gathered their haunches beneath them, preparing to launch into the sky. They’d had their home taken away from them too, and they were ready to fight back. “Let’s get rid of this big bully.”

  In the sky above them, the true dragons broke apart, preparing for their next clash. Mav roared, the sound desperate even to Selivia’s ears.

  “Now!” she called to the little dragons. “Fly for Vertigon!”

  The cur-dragons lunged out of their hiding place, filling the air with the thunder of their wings. They soared up in a great mass, moving like a single creature of darkness and flame. Selivia hollered encouragement as they left her behind on the ground.

  The cur-dragons swarmed like bees and shot straight at the Red Devil. He turned the instant before they reached him, and Selivia swore a look of shock crossed his crimson face. Then the cur-dragons slammed into him, tearing at his wings, blasting flames in his face, pecking at him like dozens of angry birds. The Red Devil shrieked as the cur-dragons forced him downward. He may be a big bully, but he was no match for all the cur-dragons of Vertigon when they worked together.

  The Red Devil crashed down in the center of Thunderbird Square with a great cry. The cur-dragons swarmed over him, quickly making sure he’d never fly again. A great commotion erupted from the other true dragons when they realized what had happened.

  If Mav was surprised by this turn of events, he hid it well. He soared higher into the sky, crowing in triumph and lighting up the night with a burst of Fire. He took ownership of the victory, roaring at the other true dragons as if to warn them this would happen to them too if they crossed him.

  Mav soared over the fallen body of the Red Devil in Thunderbird Square and called out to the cur-dragons. The little creatures zipped into the air, trumpeting their greetings, and Mav answered with a welcoming growl. The cur-dragons formed an honor guard for their larger cousin, and together they flew once more around King’s Peak, their triumphant cries echoing all across Vertigon. The other true dragons beat their wings and dipped their heads again and again in a show of obeisance.

  As Mav looped around King’s Peak, still celebrating his victory, he passed directly above the King’s Arena. Selivia swore he winked his massive cobalt eye at her. Then he flew up, up, up, all the way to the broken castle at the top of the peak. He settled onto this perch as the cur-dragons swarmed around him and let out a deafening roar. The message to the
watching host was clear. There was a new dragon king in Vertigon, and he dared anyone to challenge his right to the throne.

  33.

  The Ruminors

  DARA walked beside her father over the charred earth, surrounded by the soldiers of Vertigon. She’d dreaded facing her father, but she never imagined the two of them would go into battle side by side. Yet they were marching steadily across the twice-conquered plains of Trure to save their city from beasts of legend.

  They discussed their shared craft as they walked, shying away from more sensitive issues. Rafe’s eyes practically glowed as Dara told him about learning Watermight from Wyla and making discoveries about the magical substances on her own. It reminded her of when she used to sneak into the Fireshop to listen while her father taught her sister the Work. He had been so proud of what Renna could do.

  For all his faults, Dara’s father was still the most dedicated practitioner she had ever met, and one of the only people who might understand her struggles with her growing power.

  “Do you ever feel like the Fire is taking over?” Dara asked one afternoon as the sun beat down on their heads.

  “In what way?”

  “Like you’re not yourself anymore when it rushes through you.”

  Rafe frowned. “I am more myself when I have Fire in my blood.”

  Dara rolled her shoulders uncomfortably, remembering the destructive thoughts she’d had while Wielding huge quantities of power.

  “You’ve never done something you might otherwise avoid?”

  “Such as?”

  Invading the Lands Below. “Being harsh on your enemies. Killing rather than neutralizing, for example.” Like you did to Zage Lorrid.

  “Neutralizing?” Rafe chuckled. “There is no such thing as a neutralized enemy, Dara. The stakes are too high in any fight for power.”

  “But—”

  “I suppose that’s something you learned from the Amintelles.” He sighed, looking up at Rumy and Surri gamboling through the skies above. “We should have put a stop to it the moment we heard you were dueling at the castle.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I did not believe you would choose another family over ours.”

  “You murdered the king!” Dara’s hand strayed to the hilt of her Savven blade, the unnaturally warm hilt reminding her of those life-changing months the previous summer. “It was wrong.”

  “Blood is stronger than right and wrong.”

  “Is it?” Dara stopped and turned to face him. The nearest soldiers eased back a few feet, not wanting to be anywhere near another Ruminor family spat. “You left Mother behind, knowing the danger the true dragons could pose to Vertigon. How is your blood stronger there?”

  “Your mother is a warrior, much like you,” Rafe said. “She still had work to do in Vertigon.”

  Dara narrowed her eyes. “What kind of work?”

  “The kind that doesn’t take place in Fireshops.”

  “What if the true dragons kill her?”

  “Then she will have fallen for a greater aim.”

  “Not a greater good?”

  “Good?” Rafe raised his chin and adjusted the collar of his coat as if it were the clasp of a royal mantle. “There is no such thing.”

  Dara’s fingers curled around her pendant necklace, on which two dragons reared back to back, connected by a single filigree spine. She didn’t agree with her father. Siv was good. His sisters and his father were too. They wanted their people to live in peace and prosperity, an ideal that didn’t require dominance over foreign lands. Dara had seen enough burned farms and fallen soldiers as they traveled through Trure to know her father’s actions were anything but good.

  Sometimes she wondered if Rafe had been set on his deadly trajectory from the beginning. The intensity of the power scared her, and she worried it could have caused her father’s treachery. She didn’t want to go down the same path.

  But she also knew Rafe had yielded to her precisely because she was the more dominant force. Being strong had saved her from needing to end his life. She was even able to give her father a chance to redeem himself—if that was what he wanted. Perhaps this was an instance where massive earth-shattering power could bring about a greater good. She just hoped Siv would see it the same way.

  Vine had filled her in on Siv’s progress as he forged a peace between the Soolens, Pendarkans, and Cindral Folk. He was returning to Vertigon with an army of allies and a large supply of Watermight to use against the true dragons. Dara needed her father’s knowledge of the magical substances more than ever. He had studied far more than her, and she hoped they could figure out a Work that would help them defeat the fiery monsters. That was why she risked getting so close to him on their journey. Her hopes for his redemption hadn’t blinded her to the fact that he was a treacherous man. He deferred to her now, but she didn’t trust him.

  Dara took frequent breaks from her father’s company so as not to fall under his spell. She ordered General Pavorran and the other officers to steer clear of him so they couldn’t conspire against her. She had worried the Vertigonians wouldn’t follow her orders, but they showed no interest in crossing her after witnessing the full extent of her power.

  Her blast of combined magic had killed or incapacitated every single Fireworker in the host. She had hoped they’d be able to resume their peaceful occupations under Siv’s reign. Instead, they’d paid the price for following the Lantern Maker. Dara felt sick to her stomach whenever she thought about the Fireworkers she had killed. She had produced so much destruction in just a few minutes. Sometimes she wished she had never combined the two magical substances, but the sheer force of that power may be their only hope of defeating the true dragons.

  Surri was the only reason Dara got any sleep on their journey. Otherwise, she would have been too worried about what her father would do while she slept. The Cindral dragon and her smaller companion remained aloof from the army, flying off in the mornings to hunt and staying at a distance throughout the day, but they returned to curl up beside Dara when night fell. Their hot, steady breathing helped to soothe her worries.

  Dara had been surprised to find a friend among the officers in the Vertigonian army: former Castle Guard Telvin Jale. He joined her training sessions as they traveled through Trure and told her more about what had happened in Vertigon in her absence. He wasn’t as remorseful over the invasion of the Lands Below as Dara had expected.

  “I thought the Lantern Maker would destroy himself,” Telvin confessed when they finished their lunges one evening. “That’d leave us with an expanded kingdom we could give to Queen Sora.” He always spoke highly of Sora and, like most of the soldiers, was fiercely loyal to her. “The continent would be better with her as ruler.”

  “Instead, you took the land Commander Brach conquered and trampled it further into the ground,” Dara said.

  “We did as we were ordered,” Telvin said. “I couldn’t let my comrades go into battle without me. This wasn’t just about the Fireworkers.”

  Dara didn’t answer. She glanced toward the center of camp, where her prisoners were preparing to sleep after the long day’s march. The Trurens and Far Plainsfolk, along with a few renegade Soolens, had made a desperate effort to charge their invaders one last time. Dara had stopped their attack without shedding a single drop of blood, but she couldn’t let them go in case they tried again.

  The Trurens had been the biggest victims of the past year. The evidence was in every singed field and ruined village they passed. Occasionally, they came across fine Truren racehorses picking through the ash for food, their owners nowhere in sight. The human survivors hid when they saw the Vertigonians coming. Dara wondered if the kingdom would ever fully recover. Most of the royal family had been murdered on her father’s orders. Maybe she could bring the plains under Vertigon’s thrall in order to protect it from further encroachments. She could offer protection to Cindral Forest too in exchange for the continued use of its Watermight-carrying dragons. />
  Not you too. Dara clutched the pendant at her neck as she realized what she’d been thinking. Sure, just take over two sovereign lands because you have lots of magic. She couldn’t fall into the trap that had ensnared her father and Commander Brach. She didn’t want or need an empire.

  Focus on your own bout. Nothing she did would matter if the true dragons prevailed. Theirs was a dominion no one would welcome. She felt as if all the kingdoms of the continent were balanced on the edge of a cliff. She didn’t know which way they’d fall.

  Still, she considered pressing the prisoners into service against the true dragons. There were over five hundred of them, and the motley bunch knew how to use their weapons. Besides, there were Sensors among them, and Vine had taught her not to underestimate the practitioners of the elusive Air arts.

  It became more difficult to make contact with Vine with each passing day. Precious little Air could be found in their vicinity, as if the entire land were holding its breath. As they drew nearer to the mountain, there wasn’t enough Air to sustain a conversation or learn what lay ahead. They would be riding in blind.

  At last, the tall form of Vertigon Mountain rose in the distance.

  34.

  The Fissure

  SELIVIA stayed in King’s Arena after Mav triumphed over the Red Devil. She half hoped he’d lead all the true dragons away from Vertigon once he took control. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as though he was planning to do anything of the sort.

  To her horror, more true dragons arrived on the mountain over the next three days. Selivia watched from her hideout as they swooped in from the Burnt Mountains, greeting each other with loud cries and squabbling over the best roosts. None were big enough to challenge Mav, but Selivia feared even more would follow. They would never get rid of the dragons at this rate! And it was only a matter of time before they noticed the humans traveling through the Fissure.