by Lea Doué
They traveled a few more yards, and then their forward momentum stopped and they hovered over a cluster of evergreens. Up and down, up and down the wings flapped, slowly lowering them to the treetops.
Neylan kicked at branches, pushing herself away from the tree. Pine needles scratched her face and scrabbled against the silver-black scales of her gown. Twice her skirts snagged, but each time the wings pulled her free, only to drop her farther. Feathers rained down on her as they fought their own battle with the forest.
Zared struggled somewhere ahead of her.
Finally, her feet touched earth. She struggled forward through the underbrush until she stood in a gap between two linden trees. Feathers gone, the wings hung limp at her back, nothing more than a cape with silver threads running through it. Exhausted, she sank to the ground. The gown felt like lead, and her legs like lumps of clay.
Moments later, Zared stood before her. He’d removed his cape and the scaled tunic and wore a simple white undershirt tucked into his trousers. His face glowed with a look of triumph.
“That should give us a good head start,” he said. “No one will be able to track our movements, or tell how we got out of the city.” He removed a small silver whistle from his belt pouch, the kind rock dragon riders used to call their mounts, and blew several short, high-pitched blasts before tucking it away again.
That was nothing like flying with Keir. She still couldn’t utter the words aloud, but perhaps Zared could see the meaning in her eyes as she glared at him.
“Stand up, please,” he said.
She glared harder.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. “I don’t plan on dragging that gown with us. It’s served its purpose.” He pulled a dagger from his boot, spun her around, and in one swift move sliced through the laces down her back.
She hissed in pain and clutched the gown to her chest. Her skin burned as though he’d sliced her back along with the gown.
“Hold still. This front panel doubles as a change of clothes.” He fumbled with the red panel, cutting seams here and there with the tip of his dagger. When he stood again, he presented her with a delicate pair of red dragon-wing leggings and matching tunic.
Show off. He could have carried them in a satchel.
“Get changed.”
She clutched the bundle, waiting for him to leave, but unable to ask.
“Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” He stalked into the trees without a backward glance.
She shimmied out of the gown, quickly pulled on the new clothes, and left her shift piled in the dirt. Despite the pain, she felt better. Lighter.
Her red slippers still matched. How nice. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat, testing her voice again. She got a healthy squeak that time, and blew out a breath in relief. Whatever he’d done wouldn’t be permanent.
Zared returned riding a rock dragon. He held out a hand. “Get on. And behave yourself, if you don’t want to be tied up and presented to Master Idris like a sweet little gift.”
She climbed on without his help and hooked her thumbs in his belt to keep her balance, grimacing at his nearness.
As they sped forward, her mind raced with escape scenarios, but most of them ended in massive pain and possible broken limbs. She couldn’t outrun Zared, even if she could take the dragon out of the picture. But if she could slow them down, she might give a search party time to catch up with them.
If she could get control of the rock dragon, even better.
Spotting the hilt of the dagger sticking out of his boot, she got an idea, but she needed to distract him first.
After clearing her throat again, she croaked out, “Why?” into his hear and then burst into a coughing fit.
He waited for her to fall silent and then spoke over his shoulder. “Have you heard of the twelfth kingdom?”
What was he talking about? There was no twelfth kingdom. Unless he meant Valosa. She and Keir had only recently come across documents from the lost kingdom.
The rock dragon swerved around a downed tree.
“Master Idris is restoring it, gathering his people there. Training guardians. You’re going to legitimize his claim to the throne, dearest.”
“What?” she rasped.
“You’ll be a queen, Neylan, in name, at least. Queen of the most powerful kingdom anyone has ever known.”
Numbness washed over her as she tried to understand what he was saying. They’d begun to suspect Idris was after power, seeking to put someone on a throne who would be easily—and secretly—influenced by him. But now he was seizing a throne for himself? No, creating one—and using her to lay claim to it.
She was most definitely not marrying a crazy, power-hungry sorcerer. She had to tell Baz and Father, so they could send word to all their allies.
Hoping her distraction had worked, she waited for Zared to speak again before making her move.
“With Princess Sissi in position to take the throne in Maglyn, Idris will—”
Neylan grabbed a handful of Zared’s hair and yanked hard, at the same time leaning forward and pulling the dagger from his boot.
A guttural scream escaped from his throat. The rock dragon tripped and faltered as Zared writhed, wildly jerking its head to the side.
She stabbed at Zared’s ribs, but he deflected her hand with his elbow so that the blade barely sliced his skin. He grabbed for her arm.
Changing her target, she muttered a silent apology in her head, twisted around, and plunged the dagger into the dragon’s thigh.
The dragon heaved itself to the side away from the sudden burst of pain. It plowed through bushes, no longer taking care to keep its riders safe from branches and underbrush, until it finally slid to a halt and sagged to the earth, keening in pain.
Neylan jumped off and ran, tears stinging her eyes. If… no, when she returned to the palace, she would make sure someone found the dragon and took care of its injuries.
Listening for sounds of pursuit, she pushed herself until she felt like a ball of fire, her lungs and legs burning as badly as her back.
Something whizzed past her ear.
She jumped over a log, but her toes caught at the last minute, and she landed on her elbows. Staggering to her feet, she looked over her shoulder and gasped.
A rock dragon was running straight at her, but it veered at the last moment and rushed past.
Euna? She tried to call out, but her dry throat produced only a garbled croak.
Wist appeared from nowhere and flew circles around her head as Majesty swerved and returned to her side. The dragon stopped a few feet away and huffed in her face.
“Get on! Hurry!” Euna said, glancing in the direction Neylan had come from.
She jumped on and held on tight. “You’re not alone, are you?”
Wist landed near her ear and clung to her hair.
Euna nudged Majesty into a run. “There was no time to get help. Wist went crazy, and we saw you disappear over the hedge. Majesty climbed it for me, or we would have lost you. I thought I’d better follow so I could at least tell someone where you’d been taken.”
Smart thinking… and brave girl… but Neylan couldn’t help wishing for a dragon soldier or two. “How far is the black tower?” Her voice cracked, but the words were clear enough.
“Closer than the palace.”
She’d already worked out Keir’s location. Zared wasn’t as clever as he thought. He’d said Keir would be “in a bind” somewhere the locals might hear him “moaning.” If the lava tunnel was narrow enough, it would crush him once he transformed inside.
“Keir is trapped at the cliffs.” Her voice grew stronger by the second. “Can you get us there?”
“I think so. I mean, I know the general direction.” She altered their course slightly. “But I don’t think we can outrun Zared for long. I could barely catch up. If it weren’t for Wist, I wouldn’t have been able to find you at all.”
Majesty scrabbled over the forest floor faster than should be possible fo
r a runt rock dragon.
“We’ll be fine. His dragon is injured.” Neylan concentrated on keeping her seat as Majesty zigzagged through the trees. Hopefully, Oswald and Ysmay would be at the tower. “We should cut across the forest, though, bypass the villages. It’ll save a lot of time.”
They traveled through dawn and on into the morning, arriving at a forester’s cottage sometime before noon. The lady of the house took one look at them on the rock dragon, ushered them inside without a word, and offered refreshments. While they rested, she drew water from the well outside for Majesty and then packed a satchel with bread, water, and apricots for them to take when they left, but she refused to accept the coins Euna offered.
With the exception of a brief dip in the water bucket, Wist clung to Neylan’s hair the entire time.
They stopped thrice more to let Majesty catch her breath. Each time, Neylan paced and tried to imagine every scenario they might find at the cliffs. She’d heard of lava tunnels, remnants of underground lava flows, but she’d never seen one for herself. And Keir was likely inside one, possibly trapped, by the sound of it. She couldn’t imagine how Zared had managed that.
They needed to get Keir out before he transformed.
By early evening, they finally emerged from the forest into the clearing around the black tower. Euna gasped at the faint glow of the Burnt River in the distance.
Less than two hours remained before sunset.
“Let’s see if the caretakers are at the tower,” Neylan said.
She dismounted at the door, which was thankfully both unlocked and unstuck, and ran inside. “Ysmay! Oswald!”
Euna followed, letting Majesty weave her way down the narrow hallway to the kitchen. Once there, the dragon took care not to bump the table, although her tail swept the counter and sent a mug crashing to the floor. Wist dove into a bowl of pistachios.
Sprinting up the stairs, Neylan peeked into each room but found them all unoccupied, except for Keir’s room, which was still locked. She took half a minute in her bedroom to tear off Zared’s red outfit and pull on her own clothes, a green tunic and trousers, sturdy enough for climbing. After she stomped into her spare boots, she rushed to the storage room, grabbed the rope, and looped it crosswise over her body.
Back in the kitchen, Wist stood in a bowl of moldy strawberries, chewing contentedly.
After the recent scare with the moonflowers, Neylan shooed him away from the rotten fruit. “Spit that out, Wist.”
He stared at her, juice dribbling down his chin.
“Wist, Spit,” she said firmly.
He obeyed, spitting strawberry pulp back onto the pile, and a glob of greenish venom, as well.
Gross. She handed him a pistachio, tucked a sheathed kitchen knife and a flint into her boots, and grabbed a lantern.
Still over an hour left.
Once outside, Neylan climbed up behind Euna. “To the shoreline. We have to find the mouth of the lava tunnel that’s visible from the beach.”
Zared had said Keir would be in a bind. If he were literally bound and in his human form inside the tunnel, he would be in trouble at sundown without Gram to stop his transformation.
With Majesty’s speed increased on the open ground, they left behind the meadow and reached the cliffs and beach within minutes. The dragon skimmed along the sand, splashing through the waves in places where the cliffs jutted right up to the ocean.
“There!” Euna pointed at a hole in the rock about three stories above them.
“I see it!” They couldn’t reach the entrance from the ground. “We need to get to the clifftop above the tunnel mouth. You and Majesty can lower me down.”
Euna turned the dragon around and had them up the nearest grassy slope and in place in a matter of minutes.
Neylan dismounted and uncoiled the rope. She cut a short piece and tied the lantern at her waist.
“How will you untie yourself when you reach the tunnel?”
“A slip knot. I’ll pull the tail to loosen it once I’m safely down.” She tied one end of the rope around Majesty’s saddle and then created a loop in the other end. She climbed into it and positioned it around her upper thighs. “Slowly, if you please. But hurry.”
Euna backed Majesty away from the cliff until the rope pulled taught. Neylan sat and eased herself over the grassy edge, giving Majesty time to adjust to her weight.
Wist swooped over and clung to her shoulder.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
She focused on the rope and the cliff, refusing to look down or out or even up, and tried to keep her sore back from scraping the rocks. Dirt sprinkled onto her head, and Wist sneezed. Flying with Keir had been far less terrifying.
Soon enough, there was no cliff to scrape against or to steady her, and she dangled and spun in front of the tunnel mouth. Inch by inch she dropped, until her feet hit the floor of the entrance. She pulled herself inside, wiggled out of the rope, and tugged to let Euna know she’d made it.
She glanced at the orange horizon. Less than an hour until sunset.
Chapter Twenty-One
Standing at the entrance to the lava tunnel, Neylan lit the lantern with the flint and knife and stepped inside. Wist chirped softly into her ear, his talons firmly tangled in her hair.
“Keir!” she called. Her head barely cleared the ceiling, but at least the tunnel was smooth. No protruding rocks to trip her up or knock her out. After a dozen steps, she yelled louder. “Keir!”
“Neylan!”
She inhaled sharply. He was alive. His voice was faint, but he wasn’t as far in as she’d feared.
“I’m coming! Hold on!”
Wist dropped down and clung to the top of the lamp. He grasped the handle tightly and leaned forward, peering into the dark. The light threw giant Wist shadows onto the walls.
“Neylan!” Keir’s voice sounded much louder.
“I’m almost there!” She sped up and bumped her head on the ceiling. No protrusions, but the height undulated like a wave. Blood trickled down her temple.
“I can see your light.”
Wist flew on ahead, and Keir spoke to him, but she couldn’t make out his words.
When she finally saw him, the tunnel continued on beyond where he sat against the wall. His hands were bound by a cord tied to a metal ring embedded in the floor. He was covered in dirt and wore only trousers, his feet bare.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He blinked at her with tired, red eyes, taking in her dirt-stained clothes and mussed hair, and smiled. “You look amazing.”
“Sweet talker. You’re a sight for sore eyes, yourself.” She set the lamp down and knelt beside him. The cord had cut into his wrists. “How did you get here?”
“I had decided not to attend the ball last night, and Zared found me minutes after I’d transformed. He showed me a note from a friend back in Maglyn who said Idris had appeared there. Laid out some lost kingdom scheme the conniving sorcerer is supposedly up to.”
“He told me about that, too.”
“It’s not true, is it?”
“I’m afraid so.” She took out the knife and sawed the cords, which were made of weaver dragon silk. Strong, but not unbreakable. “I guess cursing you and Baz, not to mention an entire kingdom, wasn’t enough for him.”
He shook his head. “Zared said Idris had kidnapped you and taken you to the tower to fetch something from the king’s collection. I had no way to verify anything or ask him any questions while I was a dragon. I think he was counting on that. He insisted I was the only one who could get to you in time and said he would inform the king of what had happened. He seemed really worried about you.”
More secrets and lies. “He’s an excellent actor. And he was trying to get you out of the way so he could carry me off.” Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead as she continued hacking at the cords. “Long story short, I got away.”
His jaw tightened. “I arrived as the sun came up. Fetched some clothes at the tower, but the caret
akers were gone. Then I was ambushed by a bunch of lackeys Zared had hired to drag me from the tower and stuff me into this cave. Luckily, he couldn’t pay them enough to kill me outright.”
Wist joined her and tried to chew through the cord, but nothing was working.
“Neylan, I—”
“I can’t cut this! It’s almost sunset. I have to get you out of here.”
“What about fire?” Keir nodded at the lantern.
She opened the door of the lantern and shoved an inch of the cord into the flame. Nothing happened. It didn’t even smoke. “What in the… he’s done something to the cord!”
Ignoring them, Wist had begun to pick at the knots.
Brilliant dragon! “Yes, Wist! Untie the knots!”
He glanced at her and then plucked at them in earnest. They were too small and tight for her fingers, but with his tiny talons, he made headway quicker than she would have imagined possible.
“Thank you for coming,” Keir said. “I don’t know how you found me, but at least I got to see you before—”
“Don’t say it.” This was no time for goodbyes. In fact, it was the perfect time for her to say something she should have said long ago. The final words that would break the curse. Gram had told her from the beginning to mind the words.
“Keir, I have to tell you something.”
Wist chirped, his tail lashing from side to side.
“What is it?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Growling in frustration, she cupped his face in her hands. “Be still. He’s on the final knot, and you don’t want him to pull it tighter at the last minute.” Her heart hammered so loudly in her ears she was surprised it wasn’t echoing off the rocks.
Slowly, she leaned forward, looking into his eyes. “I love you.” As her lips touched his, he leaned into her kiss.
Wist crowed in triumph and shot into the air.
Keir stumbled to his feet, narrowly missing the ceiling with his head, and then helped Neylan up. “I love you, too.” He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again.
Her toes tingled, and she pulled away to catch her breath.
“Let’s go!” He grabbed the lantern and took her hand, pulling her with him as he ran, hunched over.