Enemy of the Realm

by Wesley King

  Nathaniel nodded. “We have to rebuild the Riders as well. That means finding the descendants of the old Riders and training them to ensure the legacy continues. And now perhaps . . . to help restore the dragons to their former numbers.”

  “That will take time,” Lourdvang said gruffly. “We have lost almost three-quarters of our population since the war began.” His great blue eyes narrowed, reflecting the campfire. “Francis will pay for that.”

  “First we have to beat the drones,” Jack said grimly. “Everything else can wait.”

  “Yes,” Abelard said. “And on that note, we had better get some sleep.”

  Everyone rose to their feet, and Marcus started for his little makeshift cot of crumpled clothes. He felt someone grab his arm, and turned to see Jack ushering him to the side. Marcus followed him, frowning.

  “What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.

  “Oh . . . no . . . nothing is wrong,” Jack said, shifting uncomfortably.

  Jack’s cheeks were a little flushed, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “What is it, then?” Marcus asked.

  “I just want to let you know that I really am proud of you. Whatever happens tomorrow, I always have been proud, even if I never said it. I know . . . well, I wasn’t really a great father figure. Never had much practice, you know. You deserved someone to take you to school in the mornings and help with homework and cook dinner and all that stuff . . . you had to do it all by yourself since you were just a little kid. And you never complained once . . . in fact, you grew into the young man I see now. I’m sorry, Marcus. I guess I just wasn’t ready to be a father, and I should have done more.”

  Marcus shook his head. “You were a role model for me, Uncle Jack. Maybe you didn’t always cook dinner or go to my parent–teacher meetings, but you taught me about robotics and programming and things that I loved. You think most kids got that? I know it probably wasn’t easy on you when my dad took off. But you never complained to me either. And I know I wasn’t exactly the easiest kid to raise . . .”

  Jack snorted. “Why? Because you were chasing thunderstorms and building robots?”

  Marcus laughed. “Both. But I wouldn’t change anything. Thank you.”

  Jack fixed his glasses uncomfortably, and for the first time in Marcus’s life, he reached over and gave him a hug. Then he stepped away again, scratching his neck. “Well . . . uh . . . time for bed, I think.”

  “Yeah,” Marcus said, shifting. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  Jack hurried off to his corner, and Marcus went and lay down on the makeshift cot.

  “You two are so awkward,” Dree said. “But kind of cute.”

  “Thanks,” Marcus muttered.

  “Get some sleep. Try not to think about the massive battle we have to fight tomorrow.”

  Marcus sighed. “Yeah. I’ll do my best.”

  There was a long moment of silence, and then Dree turned to him.

  “Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m glad you showed up in that storm, Marcus Brimley.”

  He smiled in the darkness. “So am I. We’re going to win, Dree. We have to.”

  She rolled back, staring up at the distant stalactites. “You sound like a Rider.”

  “I hope so,” he said. “I’m not sure that I feel like one yet.”

  “You will,” she whispered. “You were born to be one.”

  Dree lifted her hands, and they flickered with a radiant red-and-blue flame.

  “Stay close to me tomorrow. Let’s find out what two Furies can do.”

  Chapter

  23

  Dree woke to the sound of footsteps, and she rolled over sleepily to see fighters and dragons already moving about outside of their chamber. Despite her brave words, a sick, nervous feeling settled into Dree’s stomach almost immediately. She tasted acrid bile in her mouth, and her tongue felt as coarse as sandpaper. Marcus blinked awake beside her, and by the stark whiteness that immediately spread over his face, she knew he was thinking the same thing. It was the morning of the battle.

  A true battle, the kind that not everyone came back from—in this case, maybe not any of them.

  They both put their jackets on and strapped their swords to their hips in silence, neither finding reason to have a conversation. Lourdvang rose and stretched in the far corner, his eyes on Dree, and she saw Jack get up and start inspecting Teen Hybrid, readying her for battle. The silence in the cavern was heavy—broken only by the footsteps and quiet voices echoing through the tunnels. Everyone was preparing.

  “So this is what war feels like,” Marcus said quietly. “Before, we were always sneaking around, or getting caught unaware and just getting thrown into it. This is the first time we’ve gone into a full battle knowingly—no sneaking around this time. A real battle where two sides meet full on. Now I get it, I think. It’s not what I thought. War is a sick feeling in your stomach and shaking hands and wishing that you were anywhere else in the world.”

  Dree nodded. “Not exactly what they sing songs about, is it?”

  “No.” Marcus stopped and looked at her. “Are you afraid?”

  “Very. You?”

  “Terrified.”

  Dree smiled and took his hand. “Listen . . . about what I said during our fight—”

  “It’s in the past, Dree. You already apologized.”

  She shook her head. “I know. But I just want you to know that you belong here as much as anyone I have ever met. And I am proud to be defending our home together.”

  Marcus smiled. “So am I.”

  Dree squeezed his hand. “We’d better go join the others.”

  The four of them hurried to the war room. From there, the Resistance army would leave through an opening on the side of the mountain and make their journey to the city. Forost was lit only by torches, as ever, but Dree knew that it was morning outside. There would be no more stealthy raids. They were going to attack in the light of day.

  Dragons, Resistance fighters, and displaced families were milling about everywhere, preparing for the departure. Dree saw her family waiting with Abelard and hurried over. Abi wrapped her in a hug.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

  Dree met her eyes. “I have to, so that we can go home again. You keep an eye on the boys.”

  Her two little brothers were holding on to her mother’s legs, for once completely silent. Dree suspected that even they could feel the tension in the air. Some people were crying, and many were saying their goodbyes, wrapped in the kind of embraces that surface only when you know you may not come home. Nathaniel stood alone, his eyes on the floor. She wondered if he was thinking about poor Emmett.

  “See you soon, boys,” Dree said gently, and her brothers hurried over and gave her a hug.

  When she stood up, her mother took her shoulders, fighting back tears. “You be careful, Driele, do you hear me? No doing anything stupid out there. Just take out that awful man and get back here safe.”

  Dree smiled. “I will, Mom. I can do this.”

  Her mother hugged her, the tears spilling out now. “When did you go and become a woman?”

  “I don’t know. But I had a good role model,” Dree said.

  Her mother sniffled, hugging her tighter. “I’m proud of you. Take care of your father.”

  “He’ll be fine too,” Abelard said gruffly, scooping up one of the boys and tousling his hair. “He may be an old man, but he’s still got a little fight left in him. Right?” he said, tickling Otto.

  Abelard looked at the family. He wore full dragon armor, crimson and black, and a great sword hung at his side. A beard had crept down his neck and past his cheeks, but he still looked much younger than the ghost of a man Dree had lived with for so many years.

  He was to ride Erdath into battle—the two leaders riding as on
e.

  “We’ll be back for dinner,” Abe said. “And tonight we will eat in Dracone. Maybe in the palace?”

  “Really?” Abi asked, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

  He winked. “Maybe so.”

  He put Otto down and gave Dree’s mother a kiss. It was the first time Dree had seen them kiss since she was a child. They had been so distant for so long, but it seemed that all of those difficult years were now forgotten.

  “Remember, you’re not twenty anymore,” her mother said sternly, wagging a finger at Abelard.

  He laughed. “Don’t I know it. Come on, Dree. The sun is rising.”

  The group of fighters started down the tunnel toward the hidden opening, and the families stayed behind to wave them off. Dree waved goodbye to her sister one last time, wondering if she would ever see her again.

  Don’t think like that, she scolded herself. She had to focus on the battle.

  Before she did, though, she grabbed her father’s hand.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Be safe out there, Dad. I feel like I just got you back, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

  Abelard pulled her into a hug, a strong hand resting on the back of her head.

  “My Driele,” he said, his voice muffled in her hair. “I’m so sorry I drifted away all those years. You are much better than your father. A true Rider, I do not doubt it. And I want to be old and gray to see you become what you were born to be. I won’t leave you. And don’t you go do anything stupid either, brave as you are.”

  Dree choked out a laugh. “I won’t.”

  He released her and met her eyes. “I am so proud of you, Dree.”

  He walked toward the rest of the fighters, shouting orders, while Dree climbed up onto Lourdvang’s back and Jack settled atop Teen Hybrid. The other Riders mounted their own dragons, careful not to touch scales with exposed skin. All wore the fire-resistant armor except, of course, for Dree and Marcus. Marcus was mounted on Nolong—who had proudly agreed to partner with him for the battle—and Abelard soon climbed aboard the great black hulk of Erdath.

  Abelard turned back to the group.

  “Make no mistake, this attack is risky. There are many drones, and many soldiers, and the odds are against us. But today, we are Dragon Riders. Today we take back the city and overthrow Xidorne. With a new sun comes a new future. Fight hard and know that your cause is a just one. The drones are powerful, yes, and they are a fearsome enemy. But they are machines. We have heart and passion and the knowledge that we cannot lose. Our families, our friends, and our people count on us. And so we ride!”

  With that, Erdath burst out into open air, and with a resounding cheer, the rest of the new Dragon Riders followed suit. Marcus and Dree were first, followed by Nathaniel and his new mount, and then the dragons flooded out of the opening and swept upward on the current: fifteen armored Riders and their mounts, and another thirty solo dragons beyond that—black and gold and speckled with some green.

  The other fighters—those who didn’t have armor—had already left for the city. They would be infiltrating on the ground, trying to take out soldiers and any surface-to-air defenses as well—trebuchets, crossbows, and catapults with nets.

  Dree looked to the east as they rode up above the mountain, sailing on the cold wind.

  The sun was glowing on the horizon like a torch, turning the clouds pink and chasing the darkness away. Dree sat atop Lourdvang, the wind beating into her hair, and she glanced behind her to see the army floating on the wind. It looked like a dream, or an old memory that had long ago slipped from Dracone.

  Marcus flew beside her, Nolong’s golden scales catching the sunlight beneath him. To Dree’s left was her father, looking just like the man she remembered from her childhood—he sat tall and straight, his hair billowing out behind him, his blue eyes proud. Close behind him was Nathaniel, who wore a grim smile. The rest followed. Not all had come from Rider families, as one could see in the way they flew. Many looked scared and uncomfortable, while the true Riders seemed at home. Ciaran rode without a helmet, her long black hair flapping behind her, as if her shadow was racing to keep pace with her.

  The Riders were flanked on either side by the solo dragons—Sages and Nightwings, along with five Outliers who had joined the attack, their emerald-green skin standing out in the sea of black and gold. Dree knew that an army like this hadn’t been seen in Dracone for many decades. It was a beautiful sight, but she still wondered if it would be enough. At the very least, she had lived to see the return of the Dragon Riders—if only for a fateful morning, and one last valiant charge.

  And then, of course, there was Teen Hybrid, holding up a scared but determined Jack. He gave Dree a curt nod, and she returned it. If their plan was to work, Teen Hybrid was going to need to perform and knock out the original, as well as lead the attack on the palace to open the way for the rest of them. If she malfunctioned, they were all doomed.

  “It will all have to happen very fast,” Abelard called over the wind. “The drones will respond quickly.”

  “It will be,” Dree shouted back.

  Once again, she wondered if she would make it back. She kept thinking about the danger for everyone else, but it was just as likely that she could die in the battle too. It was a strange, uncomfortable thought, but Dree also knew that she would trade her life to rid Dracone of Francis and the drones forever.

  As long as they won today, nothing else mattered.

  “You be careful up there,” Lourdvang said, as if reading her thoughts.

  “You too, little brother,” she admonished. “Protect those wings.”

  He snorted, shooting out a puff of black smoke. “We’re going to have to try to get close to the Destroyers. Their armor is too strong for my fire. I need to rip them apart.”

  “I know. If you can get me close enough, Marcus showed me where their control panels are—he said that should be their most vulnerable section. A sword in the right place will put one down.”

  The army flew over the mountain range with the rising sun, and it was not long until the city rose up before them, perched on the edge of the sparkling lake and surrounded by the vast ring of death and destruction that the drones had wrought: thousands of homes turned into nothing but rubble. From the skies, the full extent could truly be seen—piles of stone and wood lined the road, while starving survivors huddled in the ruins.

  Dree’s anger rose inside her again, controlled now, and she tightened her grip on Lourdvang and exchanged a look with Marcus. He nodded grimly. As one, they drifted gracefully on the wind, angling toward the white palace that sat in the middle of the city—Francis’s seat of power. Dree’s eyes widened.

  There weren’t just ten drones sitting above the palace, as they had guessed.

  Francis must have known they were coming.

  The entire army had been assembled: Some fifty drones hovered there. Destroyers and Trackers filled the sky like a murder of crows just waiting for battle, their terrible weapons brimming with death.

  She heard gasps and cries going up from the other warriors, but she knew they couldn’t go back now. The drones would chase them and carve them up. There was only one thing they could do. Attack.

  Dree raised her sword overhead as Lourdvang angled his wings and swept toward the city.

  “For the dragons!” she shouted, her voice carrying over the wind.

  “For Dracone!” Abelard said, raising his own sword.

  The swarm of dragons straightened into an arrow phalanx as they approached the drones, with Dree, Marcus, and Abelard at the lead. Lourdvang roared, spewing fire and smoke, and the other dragons followed suit until the roar split through the air like thunder. Dree saw people below running for cover.

  Dree felt her anger swirling through her, and she lifted her free hand off Lourdvang’s scales, watching as the crimson fire swirled
around her fingers, growing ever larger. Dree narrowed her eyes.

  Then she closed her fist and launched a fireball toward the waiting drones.

  Chapter

  24

  Marcus watched as Dree’s massive fireball streaked across the sky like a meteor bursting through the atmosphere. It must have been ten feet across—neither of them had ever created anything like it.

  The fireball slammed into one of the Destroyers, expanding larger still and enveloping the entire drone in flames just as the gathered drone army surged forward to attack. Marcus heard a great cheer go up from the rest of the Riders around, but they were quickly silenced. The armor-plated Destroyer raced right through the fireball, almost completely unscathed. The drones opened fire.

  “Watch out!” he screamed to Nolong, as a missile raced right toward them.

  Nolong dove sharply, and the missile flew right past Marcus’s head, screaming into the main bulk of the attacking dragon army and exploding spectacularly. The thud of machine guns filled the air as the Trackers and Destroyers started shooting, and the dragons responded with a wave of fire—the orange of Nightwings, the autumn colors of Sages, and the acid-green of the Outliers. The multicolored flames spread across the sky like a second dawn, brighter than anything Marcus had ever seen.

  “We need to clear the way for Teen Hybrid!” Marcus shouted.

  Nolong wheeled upward again, pursuing one of the ponderous Destroyers through the cloud of drones. Its ivory wings were shaking as it unleashed deadly volleys of bullets, tearing through an Outlier’s wings. The two sides had merged fully now, and Marcus could see Dree and Lourdvang being chased by two Trackers. The Destroyer ahead of them turned right, and Nolong followed, his eyes locked on his prey.

  “You have him,” Marcus urged, trying to keep track of the Destroyer in the chaos.

  Nolong closed on the Destroyer quickly and locked his great talons on a wing, sending them both into a free-fall. Fighting the violent g-forces, Marcus struggled to hold on. “Pull!” he shouted.