by Julie Kagawa
“I’m still not entirely sure how I’m going to do that,” I admitted, finally voicing the concern that had been plaguing me since I’d received this mission. “Yes, we have a few leads, but I have no idea how I’m going to convince a dragon to show its true self. I mean, isn’t that exactly what Talon trains them not to do?”
I felt very weak then, admitting that I was unsure, hating that there wasn’t a tangible enemy I could take down. I wasn’t like Tristan, patient, calculating, willing to wait as long as it was required for the target to show itself. I wanted to see the target right then, to know what I was up against, what I could shoot at.
Tristan shook his head and returned to scanning the sky.
“Trust,” my partner murmured, “is a very powerful thing. If you can get them to trust you, they’ll share their thoughts, their fears, their friends’ secrets, anything. They’ll tell you if their best friend can sometimes breathe fire, or if they saw some strange creature flying across the moon one night. Everyone slips up, makes a mistake. We just have to be there when they do.”
I didn’t say anything to that, and for several minutes, we scanned the horizon in silence. I thought about what Tristan had said and wondered, vaguely, how I could get a perfect stranger to open up and trust me when I could never reciprocate.
Suddenly restless, I stepped back from the edge, causing my partner to frown at me. “Where are you going?”
“This is useless.” I gestured to the sky. “We don’t need two people looking over the same spot. We’ll have better luck if we split our efforts. You stay here, keep an eye on the beach. I’m going out to scan the cliffs.”
“By yourself? And if you see the sleeper flying around, you’ll...what? Take it down alone?” Tristan shook his head. “Even hatchlings are a two-person job, Garret.”
“If I see the sleeper, I’ll observe quietly from a distance and inform you immediately.”
“Charred corpses have a notoriously difficult time placing a call.”
“It’s not going to attack me right out in the open. And when did you get to be such an uptight pain in the ass?” I walked back toward the stairs, pulling keys out of my pocket. “I’m going. If you see something, let me know, and I’ll call you the instant I spot anything remotely interesting.” Opening the door, I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll be back at 0500. If you don’t hear from me in a couple hours, I’ve probably been eaten by a dragon.”
“Fine. If you don’t hear from me by then, it’s because I hope you were,” was the reply as the door slammed shut behind me.
Ember
Lover’s Bluff, as it was called by the locals, was a lonely outcropping of rock that jutted over the ocean, several miles past the main beach and in the middle of nowhere. In the daylight hours, it was a sightseeing and picture-taking spot. At night, it was known as the place where couples would go to prove their love, joining hands and leaping to the foaming waters below. If their love was strong enough, rumors went, they would survive. If not, one or both would drown.
Lexi claimed it was wonderfully romantic. I thought it was pretty stupid myself.
I rode my bike down the narrow road until I reached the tiny parking lot in the shadow of the bluff. At the end of the pavement, a flight of steps zigzagged to the flat outcropping of rock overlooking the waves. A guardrail hemmed in the perimeter, and a large danger sign warned you back from the edge. Not that it did much good.
I left my bike by the railing and climbed the steps to wait. Overhead, a huge full moon peeked through the clouds, keeping silent company. I wondered if the rogue would show; if he would really risk discovery to go flying with a virtual stranger. Maybe he was testing me, gauging how serious I was about breaking the rules, making certain I wouldn’t expose him to Talon. Or maybe he was just playing the stupid hatchling, having a good laugh at her expense.
As the minutes ticked by, that worry grew. I’d checked my watch a dozen times on the way here; one more glance showed that it was fifteen minutes past midnight, with no rogue dragon in sight.
Well, what did you expect, Ember? He’s a rogue, after all. Untrustworthy, just like Talon said.
Angry now, I walked to the end of the pavement and, in defiance of the ocean, hopped onto the rail and leaned over, peering into the roiling water.
Well, now what? Do I go home? Or do I say “screw it” and go flying by myself? The thought was tempting. After all, I’d snuck out, broken curfew and had come all this way; it seemed a waste to go back home just because some lying stranger wasn’t here like he’d said he would be....
A cry echoed over the distant waves, and my heart stopped.
Backing away from the railing, I stood rigid, counting the seconds, scanning the darkness for any signs of movement. The cry came again, closer this time, and I held my breath.
And then, a massive winged creature exploded through the waves beyond the rail, surging into the sky in an eruption of foam. It rose above me, beating the air with powerful wings, the downbeats whipping violently at my hair, before it dropped to the ground with a crash and another bellowing cry.
I staggered back, even as my dragon surged up with a joyful shriek, nearly bursting out of my skin. I barely kept myself from Shifting right then and pouncing on the stranger just ten feet away.
He was older than me, probably by a couple decades, given his size. Dragons aged slower than humans and remained hatchlings until our fiftieth year, when we became young adults. In my true form, I topped out at maybe five hundred pounds, about the size of a large tiger. This dragon had a few hundred pounds on me, all sleek muscle and sinew, and though he wasn’t nearly as huge as a full-grown, bus-size adult, he was still impressive. His scales were a deep navy blue, the color of the ocean depths, and his eyes gleamed a brilliant gold in the darkness. A sail-like fin ran from between sweeping ebony horns, all the way to the tip of his slinky tail. Which he wrapped around his clawed feet as he sat down, catlike, and watched me.
I gazed up into the narrow, scaly face, and realized he was smirking at me. Looking very Riley-like, even in dragon form. Annoyance quickly replaced excitement, and I crossed my arms. Here I was, gaping like a stunned human at my own kind. If Dante knew, he’d never let me live it down.
“That was quite the entrance,” I said, only now realizing that I was completely soaked from the explosion of seawater caused by beating dragon wings. Which were now folded neatly over his back, dripping puddles onto the rock. “Would you like me to applaud?”
The dragon—Riley—grinned, showing a set of sharp white fangs. “Did you like that, Firebrand?” he rumbled, his voice low and mocking, and if I’d had any doubts that this was the same rogue, they would be gone now. “Frankly, I wasn’t expecting you to show.”
“You don’t know me very well.”
“I guess not. Though it’s nice to hear you haven’t forgotten everything about being a dragon.”
He’d been speaking in Draconic, I realized, the native language of all our kind. I’d grown up speaking Draconic, only learning English when our human education had begun, years later. I hadn’t been answering in Draconic, because not only did the language consist of verbal communication, but many words and phrases required complex and subtle nuances to get the point across. It was physically impossible for the human body to mimic important things like tail position and pupil width, so speaking flawless Draconic in human form wasn’t possible. But I understood it perfectly.
“You’re one to talk,” I challenged. “You’re the rogue, the one who abandoned everything Talon stands for. Are you even going to tell me your real name? Or was that just a lie to get me out here?”
“It wasn’t,” the rogue said mildly. “My real name is Cobalt, or it is when I’m in this form. And don’t spout Talon’s garbage at me. I’ve forgotten more about Talon than you’ll ever know, hatchling.”
“Rnesh k
arr slithis,” I hissed back, which was Draconic for Eat your own tail, the dragon version of Go screw yourself. No extra translation needed.
He laughed. “Ouch. Language, Firebrand.” The rogue rose to his feet like a cat and spread his wings. Leathery and blue-black, they cast a dark shadow over me and the rocky ground, making me feel small beneath them. “So, are you all hot air and talk?” Cobalt wondered, and his head rose on a long graceful neck as he looked down his snout at me. “Or are we actually going to fly?”
I raised my chin, feeling my dragon squirming with excitement, with impatience. Turning, I walked a few paces away and then spun back, breathing deep. But I noticed the blue dragon still watching me from the edge of the cliff, wearing that careless grin. I scowled at him.
“Uh, a little privacy, please?” I snapped, and the rogue blinked in surprise. I tapped my foot and waited, but he didn’t seem to get the hint. “Okay, I’ll be a bit more clear. Turn around.”
He cocked his head, frowning. “Why?”
“Because I’m not going to ruin a perfectly good pair of shorts when I change, and I don’t feel like biking home in the nude.” He still looked baffled, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m taking off my clothes, genius, but I’m not here to give you a show. So, turn around.”
“You do realize that we are both dragons, right? I don’t care about your human concerns of modesty.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because I do.” I crossed my arms, staring him down. He glowered back. Maybe I was being “too human,” but my old instructors had pounded modesty into my head at school, claiming that we could not prance around buck naked in normal society, even if we never wore clothes in our natural forms. “Glare all you want, but I’m not Shifting a hair if you’re watching me. So if you want me to go flying anywhere with you tonight, turn around!”
With a snort, the blue dragon stood and, with a display of great dignity, turned around. Sitting with his back to me, he curled his tail around himself again and turned his snout toward the ocean.
“And no peeking!” I called.
No reply, but his wings opened, flaring out to either side, a leathery curtain separating us. Triumphant, I kicked off my sandals and stripped out of my shorts and top, placing them in a neat, folded pile under a bush. Shivering with excitement, I walked to the middle of the bluff, sparing a quick glance at the rogue to make sure he wasn’t cheating. His back was facing me, dark wings outstretched, so he was still behaving himself. Now it was my turn.
The wind hissed over the bluff, cold sea spray hitting my bare skin as I closed my eyes, breathing deep once more. As I bowed my head, all the doubts, fears, apprehension—everything—melted away, and I was aware only of the heat rising to the surface, the dragon finally breaking free.
Oh, man, it’s been way too long.
With a ripple and a snarl of pain, I shed my weak human body at last, letting my real form uncoil like a spring. My spine lengthened, stretching out with tiny pops and cracks, as if trying to shake off the stiffness. My face tightened as human skin and teeth melted away, forming a narrow muzzle with razor-sharp fangs, bony eye ridges and pale horns twisting back from my skull. Scales covered my body, overlapping miniature shields, the color of flame and sunset and as hard as steel. Rearing onto my hind legs, I gave a defiant roar as my wings finally unfurled, snapping open in the wind like crimson sails. A fierce, savage joy filled me as I gave them a few practice flaps, lifting myself off the ground to hover on the wind. Yes, this was what I’d been missing! I felt like I’d been stuffed into a box for far too long and had finally broken free.
Dropping to the cliff, I shook myself and turned to the rogue, surprised to see him still facing the ocean. “Done yet?” he asked, the tip of his tail thumping the ground impatiently. “I would hate to offend your human sensibilities, after all. Oh, and in case you’ve forgotten, those things in the center of your back are called wings. You use them for flying, in the event that we actually get off the ground tonight.”
I would’ve answered, but a blast of salt-laced wind buffeted said wings, teasing them open, and I couldn’t stand there any longer. Bounding forward, I leaped the railing, passed the still-sitting rogue, and launched myself off the cliff. “Keep up if you can!” I bellowed over my shoulder as the wind filled my wings and I shot skyward.
Waves crashed below me, sending up fountains of foam and spray as they churned against the rocks. Intimidating from the ground, perhaps, but not from the sky. I climbed quickly, rising into the night, until I flew higher than even the gulls dared to soar. Stars hung like diamonds overhead, and the air up here was thin and cold. Below me, the vast, endless expanse of the ocean stretched on forever, as did the glittering lights of the towns and cities spreading out from the beach. I’d never flown over a vastly populated area before, and was amazed at the amount of lights, buildings, cars and, of course, people. So many humans. And none had any idea that, far, far above, a dragon was soaring over their heads, watching them all.
Something shot by me with a screech and a blast of wind, disrupting my flight and making me wobble in the current. Catching myself, I looked up to where a sleek-winged form wheeled lazily around and glided back, eyes glowing like yellow stars.
“Not bad, hatchling.” Cobalt spun and dropped beside me, shockingly graceful. His grin was challenging. “But let’s see if you can keep up now!”
Tucking his wings, he dove toward the water, leaving a blast of cold wind in his wake. With a determined flap, I plunged after him, and we fell from the sky like rocks, the air shrieking around me. As we neared the ocean, my third membrane slid across my eyes, protecting me from spray and salt, but Cobalt still didn’t slow down.
We were seconds from hitting the water when a swell rose up behind us, a wall of water nearly fifteen feet high. Cobalt’s wings finally opened a few feet from the water, pulling him up at the last second, skimming the surface. I snapped mine open, too, barely managing to keep from diving snout-first into the churning sea. But we were both in the shadow of the huge wave, and it was starting to curl, an avalanche of foam and seawater and pounding surf, descending right on us.
Cobalt gave a screech of defiance and pumped his wings, shooting ahead of the wave. I flapped after him, keeping ahead of the swell just like I did when surfing, skimming the surface of the wall. As the wave began to break, we banked to the left, following the curl of the wave, and suddenly, I was flying in the pipe. Thrilled, I stuck out a claw and traced the wall of water, letting it slide through my talons just as I did while surfing. I could see the end of the tunnel, starting to collapse with water and foam, and gave my wings a final push.
Cobalt broke from the pipe, rocketing into the air with a triumphant bugle. I was right behind him, shooting through the curtain of white just as the wave collapsed with a roar, churning furiously as it pounded at nothing. I howled in pure glee, spiraling into the air after the rogue, every fiber of my being surging with adrenaline.
“That. Was. Awesome!” I panted, switching to English for the last word, as there was nothing in Draconic that actually meant awesome. Cobalt, grinning as he hovered in the air, beating his wings in rapid, downward sweeps, didn’t argue or even taunt me. “Why hasn’t anyone ever tried that before?”
The rogue laughed. “I don’t think Talon wants it catching on, Firebrand. They’d have a coronary if they knew we were out here tonight.” He snorted, rolling his golden eyes. “But screw what Talon thinks. This night is ours. Ready for another go?”
I flashed him a toothy smile. “Race you to the water!”
* * *
We “wing surfed” for the rest of the night, cruising above the ocean until a wave rose up behind us and we raced it to shore, breaking away just before it collapsed into pounding foam and surf. It was amazing. It was just like surfing, only better, because now I was flying. Cobalt stayed right with me, even through the waves where I thought I’d wi
pe out. He was shockingly graceful, twisting and looping through water as easily as air, and some of his aerial stunts were pretty impressive, though I didn’t tell him that. He’d obviously been doing this a long time.
Still, I was no slacker when it came to flying, either, and didn’t wipe out once, though I came really close a few times. It helped that I wasn’t bound to a surfboard when racing monster waves in dragon form and could always fly away when I thought I might eat it.
Finally Cobalt broke away to perch on a boulder jutting up from the water, beckoning me over with a claw. Reluctantly, I flapped up to join him, digging my talons into the jagged stone and sinking to my haunches, facing the rogue.
“What’s the matter?” I teased as waves crashed into the rock, drenching me with spray. I didn’t want to stop. I hadn’t had nearly enough. “Getting tired already?”
He flashed me a knowing smile and folded his wings comfortably behind him. “Don’t get too big for your fire gland, hatchling,” he warned, though it lacked the bite of before. “I just wanted to point out that sunrise is about two hours away. And that if your guardians are early risers, you should probably flap on home soon, before they wake up.”
I jumped and looked to the eastern horizon, where a faint blue glow had snuck up and chased away the stars. The dragon bravado shriveled a little, and my human sensibilities rose up to take its place. “Oh, crap! What time is it? Did we really stay out all night?”
“And then some.” Cobalt regarded me with intense, half-lidded eyes. “And I bet you’ve never had so much fun breaking the rules. So, what were you saying about rogues again?”
I scowled at him. “You never answered any of my questions, either. Or was that your plan all along?”
“Pretty much.” The rogue’s grin was smug, and I bristled. “Don’t glare at me, Firebrand. You know asking questions was the last thing on your mind. Now you have an excuse to do this again.”