Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

  The cur-dragons no longer hid in the King’s Arena. Mav welcomed them to nest all around the castle after they helped secure his victory. Teall and the rest of Rumy’s litter visited Selivia in the Arena, bringing her blankets and nibbles of food. Somehow, she had become their pet. The true dragons were always scratching at the Fireshops and tearing up rocks to get closer to the Fire access points, but they didn’t bother trying to break into the old dueling venue.

  Selivia watched for an opportunity to escape to the Fissure, but she didn’t want to lead the true dragons to Sora. Besides, the new arrivals wouldn’t know she was under Mav’s protection. The true dragons were clearly still working out their differences after their long hibernation. Scuffles broke out all the time, and Selivia tried not to draw attention to herself in the disarray.

  Her sister had been worried the true dragons would advance into the Lands Below and spread their Fire all across the land as the old song said, but they seemed content to stay on the mountain.

  Or at least, that was what Selivia thought until the evening of her third day on King’s Peak.

  It took two days for Sora’s people to reach the bottom of the Fissure. They sought refuge in caves and hunting cabins along the way. Sora spent every waking moment afraid the true dragons would spot them. They had to be running out of goats and mountain ponies to eat by now. But the true dragons didn’t appear.

  To her immense relief, Kel and his surviving company caught up not long after they reached the Oakwind River. He filled everyone in on what he had witnessed from his hiding place the night of their flight. Sora could hardly believe the Red Devil now lay, mangled and broken, in the middle of Thunderbird Square.

  “And Selivia?” Sora asked anxiously.

  “She wasn’t with her dragon friend during the fight,” Kel said. “I watched for as long as I could.”

  “Do . . . do you think she was—”

  “I’m sure she’s just hiding until she can sneak away,” Kel said. “It’ll be hard with so many true dragons around. Give her time. Maybe Mav will give her a ride.”

  “I don’t think we want that,” Sora said. “Even if he’s still her ally, we don’t need him leading any others down here.”

  They spent the third day after their escape foraging for food by the banks of the Oakwind and preparing to march away from the mountain—maybe for good. That evening, Kel found Sora sitting at the riverside, where she was trying to catch fish for their journey. The basket she was using for the task had a hole in it, and the little silvery fish kept slipping through. She tried to fix it herself, grumbling over the cold reeds.

  Kel sat down beside her. “Slow going?”

  Sora snorted and showed him the offending device. “I can navigate delicate political situations and stand up to evil, magic-wielding usurpers, but I can’t fix a fish basket.”

  “Queens are supposed to have people for that.”

  Sora grimaced. “I have few enough people left as it is.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay. I’m just frustrated.”

  Kel plucked a few reeds from the river and began winding them together to make a patch for the basket. Sora watched his deft fingers, appreciating the chance to sit in silence for a few minutes.

  “So the others are asking about our next steps,” he said after a little while.

  Sora sighed. “We keep moving,” she said. “We keep moving until we find somewhere safe.”

  “And if the dragons follow us?”

  “I d-don’t know,” Sora said, voice breaking despite her best efforts to remain stoic.

  “Hey now.” Kel set down the basket and put an arm around her shoulders. “You’re doing the right thing,” he whispered into her hair. “I know you didn’t want to leave Vertigon, but it had to be done.”

  “It’s just frustrating after all I went through to hold onto the crown.”

  “You look cute without it,” Kel said.

  Sora smiled and slipped her hand into his, seeking warmth for her cold fingers. It was difficult to find any comfort these days, but this, at least, was precious to her.

  “Maybe we could go the East Isles after all,” she said.

  Kel made a sound low in his throat, a soft groan that somehow made it sound as if escaping to a distant paradise with her was all he had ever wanted. They had never known how much time they would have together. Sora rarely dared to entertain hopes for their future. But as the ash of her homeland sifted down around her, she snuggled against Kel’s chest and let herself relax, just for one tiny moment.

  Just then, a shout came from the lookouts posted in the trees.

  “They spotted us! The dragons are coming!”

  Dara and her father stood at the head of the Fissure Road, looking up at the three peaks of Vertigon. The skies were too hazy for them to make out the shapes of the true dragons infesting their home.

  The soldiers gathered behind them, scanning the skies apprehensively. They hadn’t wanted to believe what Dara told them about the true dragons, but today they’d see the evidence for themselves.

  It had been three days since they last heard from Vine. Dara didn’t know how far behind Siv and his followers were. Latch’s Watermight trick with the riverboats should get them to the Fissure quickly, but the Oakwind River was at least an hour’s walk east of the road here. She sent Telvin Jale to watch for them by its banks. She knew Siv didn’t care for Telvin thanks to a bit of petty jealousy, but he was one of the few people she trusted right now.

  She ordered the rest of the soldiers to make camp at the mouth of the Fissure on the western side of the road. She didn’t intend to get any closer to the dragons until Siv arrived with the Watermight supplies. And she needed one more ingredient before she confronted them.

  She turned to her father. “Are you sure you can find the Fire access point from here?”

  “It’s in an old marble quarry,” Rafe said. “It’ll be easy to find, but it may take a few hours to open up a vein through the ground to bring the Fire here.”

  “Do it as quickly as you can,” Dara said.

  Rafe didn’t move. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Dara hesitated. Her father had told her about the Fire access point at the foot of Village Peak and suggested drawing a vein toward the road so they could reach the power more easily. It seemed like a good idea, but she felt nervous about sending him to collect the power without her. She hated having him as a liability at her back. On the other hand, she wanted to be with the army when Siv joined them, and she needed to get that power as close to the river as possible so she could use it when the Watermight arrived.

  “No,” she said at last. “Go get me some Fire. I’ll send a guard with you.”

  Her father gave her an unreadable look then disappeared into the trees in the direction of Village Peak, accompanied by a dozen soldiers Dara was reasonably sure she could trust. She hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision, but she had to believe her father wanted to help Vertigon too.

  She checked on her prisoners, who had been herded into a clearing on the western side of the Fissure Road. The Vertigonians guards kept looking at the sky and fiddling with their sword hilts and bows, and the Soolen and Truren prisoners seemed just as nervous. The Far Plainsfolk looked positively serene in comparison. A large group of them even settled into a circle to meditate. Dara thought she saw a familiar face among them, but it disappeared into the crowd before she could get a closer look. She didn’t have time to worry about the prisoners right now, anyway.

  She returned to the road to wait for Telvin to return with Siv and the others, keeping watch on the distant cliffs with a company of soldiers. With luck, her father would return with a channel of Fire, and Siv would arrive with the Watermight long before the dragons noticed the army at their gates. Dara hadn’t come up with any way to deal with them besides mustering as much Fire and Watermight as possible and knocking them from the sky.

  Surri and Rumy joined Dara’s vigil. The
Cindral dragon was restless, prowling back and forth across the road and ruffling her sleek feathers. Rumy stayed at Dara’s side, resting his scaled head on her boots. Dara wondered if he felt as conflicted about coming home as she did. The last time either of them had seen those peaks, they’d been running for their lives from the man she’d just sent to retrieve a massive supply of Fire. She tried to stay calm, breathing steadily and quieting her thoughts the way Vine had taught her. As she timed her breathing with that of the cur-dragon at her feet, she thought she was finally getting the hang of this meditation thing.

  The sun was sinking behind Village Peak, sending deep shadows across the Fissure, when the warning call sounded.

  “The dragons are coming!”

  “Where?”

  “There, like great big thunderbirds!”

  “Are you sure they’re not actually thunderbirds? How can you tell at this distance?”

  “Look at the tails.”

  The soldiers lurched into action, drawings swords and nocking arrows. The distant shapes swarmed in front of the setting sun, rapidly getting closer.

  “There are so many!”

  “Fifteen . . . sixteen . . . seventeen . . .”

  The soldiers looked to Dara, fear plain on their faces.

  “I thought there were only supposed to be a dozen.”

  “Can you fight that many, Nightfall?”

  “Twenty . . . twenty-one . . .”

  Dara studied the black shapes in the sky. The soldiers were right: far more than a dozen dragons were flying toward them. Her stomach lurched. It was too soon! She didn’t have the power yet. She needed Siv and all that Watermight. And where was her father with the Fire?

  “Nightfall?” one of the soldiers prompted. “Can you beat them?”

  Dara looked down at Rumy, who gazed at her with solemn eyes. His Fire would get her started, but she’d have to get more power herself. Surri bumped her arm roughly and snapped her jaws. The two of them would help, but with that many true dragons attacking, Dara didn’t see how they could possibly win.

  “Prepare for battle,” she said to the soldiers. “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”

  The riverboat bumped and jolted along the Oakwind River. Moving with the help of Watermight made the journey quick, but it wasn’t smooth. Siv felt as if they were sledding uphill over piles of ice and rock as they sped upstream. The Cindral Folk did their best to keep the dragons calm, while the rest held on for dear life.

  By the time they entered the mouth of the Fissure, Siv never wanted to ride in a boat again. They stopped in the shadow of the mountain, and everyone tumbled out of the boats, all but hugging the trees lining the shore.

  They had made it. Siv waited for his stomach to stop heaving as he took in the familiar sights of Vertigon. Summer flowers, towering peaks, red-speckled apple trees. The dramatic cliffs rising up ahead were a welcome change after his travels in the wide, flat world of the Lands Below. The dirt itself had a familiar scent, and Siv had to resist the urge to drop to his knees and press his face into the warm earth of his home.

  Because it wasn’t entirely the same. Ash mixed with the dirt, and charred swaths painted the slopes above. The smoky smell that had been constant in Trure met them here too. Siv couldn’t see the damage to the city itself from the river. He couldn’t tell if there was any Vertigon left to rescue.

  He didn’t have much time to wonder about it, though. Minutes after Siv and his companions piled out of the boats, a man crashed through the trees and burst onto the bare riverbank. It was one of the most decent and noble men Siv knew—and also his least favorite thanks to the interest he’d once shown in Dara—the guardsman Telvin Jale.

  “Your Majesty.” Telvin marched straight to Siv and snapped off a perfect salute. Travel grime coated his boots, but his uniform was pressed, and his face was clean-shaven. “It is an honor to see you again. Dara Ruminor sends her greetings.”

  “Jale. I can see you haven’t changed a bit in my absence.”

  “Changed, Your Majesty?”

  “Never mind. Where’s Dara?”

  “She and the Vertigonian army are camped at the junction of the Fissure Road and the High Road an hour’s march from here.” Telvin gave a little jump when he noticed the Cindral dragons gathered near the boats, surrounded by Soolen fighters. “Are those—?”

  “Yes, yes, they’re on our side. Tell me.” Siv lowered his voice after a quick glance at his companions. “Is Dara definitely in charge?”

  Telvin gave a crisp nod. “She commands the army now.”

  “Excellent. And is the Lantern Maker safely caged somewhere?”

  Telvin hesitated. “Dara sent him on an errand, Your Majesty. He was heading toward the base of Village Peak to retrieve a Fire reserve of some kind.”

  “What?”

  Siv knew Dara had spared her father’s life, but he had expected her to tie him up or something. Instead she had sent him off to collect Fire? At Siv’s shout, Latch glanced up from where he’d been talking with one of the Cindral dragon handlers. Vine noticed the look on Siv’s face and immediately engaged Vex and a group of the Soolen soldiers in conversation to distract him. It was a good thing they didn’t come over to investigate, because Siv was muttering a litany of highly colorful and unkingly curses.

  Telvin picked up on the fact that the news about the Lantern Maker’s lack of restrictions might not go over well with Siv’s allies and lowered his voice. “Dara spared her father when she took control of the army. She has been seeking his counsel on our journey here.”

  “His counsel?” The news about the lack of restrictions wasn’t going over particularly well with Siv either, come to think of it. “Is she serious? What if—”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” Telvin interrupted. “May I suggest that we speak along the way? I think we need to get these . . . these dragons to Dara as quickly as possible.”

  “Sure. You’re probably right.” Siv turned to the others, who had finished unloading the boats by now. “Gidon? Are your scaly friends ready to march?”

  The Cindral man patted the nearest dragon on the flank. “I believe so.”

  “Latch?”

  “We’re ready, but maybe you should warn your men not to panic when we bring in the dragons.” He stepped closer and said under his breath, “You’d better make sure they’ll welcome you back too. We haven’t spoken to Dara in a while. You don’t know what’s changed.”

  Siv sighed, wishing his friend’s caution weren’t so sensible. “That’s a good point. I’ll go ahead with Jale here, but don’t wait long.” Siv rolled back his shoulders and turned back to Telvin. “Take me to Dara.”

  Telvin saluted and strode toward the woods, casting backward glances at the Cindral dragons milling along the shore. Siv followed, feeling apprehensive. He hadn’t seen his own subjects in a long time. What if they didn’t even want him back as their king?

  It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You’re here to help take back the mountain. Whether you end up king or not afterward isn’t the point.

  He rehearsed the speech he had been practicing on the journey, designed to win over his soldiers before he led them into battle. But he didn’t come close to being able to deliver the rousing oration. He and Telvin hadn’t made it a hundred yards into the woods before a warning sounded from back at the river.

  The dragons were coming.

  35.

  The Dragons

  THE true dragons swarmed like locusts, a mass of churning wings and flashing scales. The hum of their wings echoed through the Fissure as they soared down from the mountaintop. He was their leader, a green-and-black giant, a monster more terrible than any legend. His power outmatched that of every magic-wielding human within a thousand miles. None could stand against him. These petty humans squabbled over power, beating each other up every time they learned a new magic trick. But they would never be stronger than him.

  Who would be his first victims? The survivors hiding near
the riverbank, whose homes had already burned? The army gathered at the mouth of the canyon? His feathered cousins farther down the river, who dared approach his territory with their band of fighting men? Perhaps it didn’t matter who he attacked first. All would fall before him in the end.

  Sora and Kel leapt up and dashed away from the river, gathering the others as quickly as they could. They ran for the nearest marble quarry to hide yet again from the monsters that terrorized their lands.

  This is it, she thought frantically. They won’t let us escape this time.

  Sora snatched up a child who had wandered into the open and bolted for a dip in the earth where its mother waited, arms outstretched. Lima Ruminor was crouched in the ditch beside the woman, face white with terror.

  Sora passed the child to its mother then grabbed Lima by the arm and hauled the older woman to the other side of the hollow and pushed her against the earthen wall.

  “What are you—?”

  “You have to know something,” Sora said desperately. “How can we stop them?”

  “There’s no way,” Lima said. “I told you al—”

  “Just think. A theory. Anything.”

  A great screech sounded as a true dragon swooped lower over their heads, its massive shadow blotting out the light of the setting sun. Lima shuddered, and for an instant, Sora saw the purest fear she’d ever witnessed on the woman’s face. But the dragon didn’t see them and continued on to seek other victims.

  “Air m-might work,” Lima said as it disappeared.

  “What?”

  “The Air magic of the Far Plains,” she said. “It could make the Fire useable against the true dragons. Otherwise, they can resist anything the Workers throw at them.”

  Sora tightened her grip on the woman’s arms. “How do we get some?”