Tears welled in my eyes until I squeezed them shut, clenching my teeth against the sharp pain constricting in my throat. Maybe the end, my end, would be quick and painless.
“Enyo,” I rasped her into the dark. With my eyes still shut, I could almost picture her face. “H-Hecate, if you can still hear m-me. Tell Enyo I’m sorry. Tell her I love her. Tell h-her … it’s all going to be okay.”
* * *
I’d just begun to get the feeling back in my fingers and toes when the cell door banged open. Propping myself onto my elbows, I raised my head shakily to see a company of armored Tibran soldiers file in, surrounding a … little girl? I blinked a few times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
She couldn’t have been an inch over five feet with ginger-orange hair pulled into two wildly curly pigtails right behind her ears. Her face was mottled in freckles, and a long leather apron and soot-stained dressed was draped over her scrawny frame. She stared down at me, her wide eyes as blue as bird’s eggs, and nibbled on her bottom lip.
She turned to one of the soldiers beside her. “How long has he been like this?”
He shrugged, making his bronze shoulder pauldrons clank.
The girl frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Bring water right away. If Lord Argonox wants this to work, then it might be in everyone’s best interest that he doesn’t die of dehydration first.”
The soldier obeyed, disappearing back into the hallway. Interesting. Since when did a scrappy-looking teenage girl give marching orders to Tibran soldiers?
“Hello there.” She spoke softly as she approached and knelt at my side. “I’m Phoebe. We’re going to be … working together.”
I furrowed my brow into the most threatening scowl I could muster. “T-Tibran scum,” I growled hoarsely. It sounded more menacing in my head.
Her expression dimmed. “I guess so. I’m sorry we’re meeting this way, but Lord Argonox has already given orders.” Her lips thinned as she looked away, her delicate brows crinkling with distress. “I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
Painless? What the hell was she going to do to me?
Reaching into one of the pockets of her apron, Phoebe withdrew a strange device—a glass cylinder tipped with a long, thin needle. It was filled with a black substance, and she held it up to the dim light that bled in from the doorway, giving the glass a few taps before turning back to me.
No way. I had to get away from her and that needle.
Floundering backward, I struggled to crawl away over the cold, gritty stone floor. I only managed a few steps before my body gave way, still too numb and weak from hunger and thirst to attempt an escape.
She shook her head. “It’ll go much easier if you cooperate, I promise. I just need to—”
“I’d rather see you in hell,” I shouted.
Suddenly, a deafening roar shook the cell around us. The stones rattled like chattering teeth, and the soldiers at the door flinched for their weapons.
“Can’t you do anything to steady her?” Phoebe barked at the soldiers.
“I’m sorry, Miss Artificer,” one of them replied. “She’s strong. Even with the bridle in place, she continues to resist.”
She? That beastly cry sounded so familiar. Why? Where had I heard it before? Before I could even process it, the word left my lips like a scream. “Vexi!”
They had my dragon.
Another bellow made a shower of dirt spill from the ceiling. I coughed and wiped my eyes, body beginning to quake under the strain of keeping myself upright. Everything hurt. My head swam in and out of consciousness. Through the haze, I spotted Phoebe coming closer with that needle poised.
I kicked away wildly, scrambling into the furthest corner of the room and gritting my teeth. If she wanted to stick that in me, she was going to have to fight me first—however pathetic and brief it would be.
“I guess I will need some help restraining him.” Phoebe sighed. She motioned to the guards at the door, and two stepped forward.
My pulse thrashed, making my vision tunnel as I staggered to my feet. I had barely made it there before the guards grabbed my arms and wrenched me around, crushing my body against the wall. One had a grip on my hair while the other used a wrestling hold to keep me still, my arms and legs pinned.
All I could do was scream. And every time I did, Vexi roared and the room shook, as though she were pitching and fighting to get to me. As the cold pinch of the needle sank into the skin of my neck, I realized what that meant: Vexi had come back.
When everyone else had given up and left me for dead, my dragon had tried to rescue me.
And it now it was going to cost us both dearly.
PART TWO
JENNA
FOUR
The sight of the black dragon perched atop the keep, its decaying hide rotted away to reveal places of white bone, stopped us in our tracks. Standing on the frozen lake of Cernheist, we gaped up at the undead monster as it let out a shattering cry and spat a burst of burning venom into the frigid air. It was a creature of pure nightmare. It shouldn’t have been alive. How? How was this possible?
And the rider …
The figure seated in the creature’s saddle wore armor like polished obsidian. Even from a distance, I could pick out the shapes of golden wings painted onto the shoulder pauldrons and breastplate. How many times had my father described those markings to me during our bedtime stories? More than I could ever count.
It couldn’t be. It was impossible. Beckah Derrick was dead. She’d died a hero’s death forty years ago at the end of the Gray War. I’d seen the place where her body was buried on my father’s family land in Solhelm.
“Jenna.”
I startled and glanced up at Jaevid. Standing tall beside me, his scimitar firmly in his grip, his whole face flushed as his expression closed. His glacier blue eyes smoldering ominously, and his jaw went rigid. There was no mistaking it. He recognized that beast and rider, too.
“You must take the others away from here,” he commanded softly. “Now. I will draw their focus. Make for the mountain pass and do not stop until nightfall.”
My body shook with a sudden surge of adrenaline. I couldn’t fathom what he must be feeling. Did he remember her? Did he know who and what she’d been to him before? According to my father, Jaevid and Beckah had been … more than close. They were not just lovers; their bond went far deeper than just a physical attraction. Beckah had died protecting him, sacrificing herself so that he could complete his mission to destroy the god stone.
So why, by all the Fates, would she come here to challenge him?
As he stepped away, I lunged to grab his arm. “Wait, Jae, you don’t have to do this alone. My men and I—we are ready to fight with you. We are dragonriders. We should stand together.”
“No,” his voice cracked over me like the bite of a whip. “This is not open for debate. You evacuate the city. Defend the people. Protect them at all costs. Their safety is all that matters.”
I didn’t believe it. Not for a single second. Perhaps he did want to make sure everyone got out safely—but there was more to it. This wasn’t duty or heroism. He wanted to fight her alone. It was contrition.
I seized the front of his breastplate and jerked him down an inch or two, so I could look him squarely in the eye. Demigod or not, he would hear me. “You need to remember your place in this mess. If you go out there and get killed over some grand gesture of atonement, then Maldobar falls with you. So, fight her, if you think you must, but don’t kill yourself doing it. We still need you.”
Jaevid’s eyes went wide. He blinked a few times, mouth hanging slightly open. Then a thin, sad smile spread over his handsome face. “You sound like him.”
I didn’t have to ask whom. “As long as you listen, I don’t care who I sound like. Do whatever you think you have to, but come back. Swear that you will.”
He nodded once. “I swear.”
Throw
ing my arms around his neck, I gave him a quick hug as tightly as I could. Then I had to let him go.
Jaevid started for his dragon at a sprint, climbing into the borrowed saddle fixed to the beast’s spiny back. Mavrik was an impressive specimen, able to match the undead King Drake pound for pound in size. He crouched, powerful legs rippling as his black claws gripped the ice. His wing arms flexed to spread their leathery membranes wide in the freezing wind. With the sunlight dancing off scales of royal blue, he launched skyward with a booming roar. The frozen surface of the lake shuddered, sending out more cracks like growing strands on a spiders’ web.
I watched, captivated by the sight of Jaevid Broadfeather forging headlong into battle as the opposing black drake also took to the air with a screeching cry. My pulse thrashed in my ears; racing so fast I could scarcely breathe. Never in my wildest childhood dreams had I imagined I would see this in person.
But I couldn’t waste any more time gawking.
“To work, boys!” I shouted as I whirled back to face my dragonrider brothers. Calem and Haldor were already mounted on the backs of their dragons, waiting for orders. Aubren was bound and thrown over the back of Haldor’s saddle like a prisoner. He kicked and pitched against his bonds when I strode past, as though whatever dark power Argonox had infected him with were driving him to kill me by any means necessary.
I’d deal with him later.
“Easy, girl. I know it hurts,” Phillip spoke soothingly to the sleek green dragoness who hunkered before him. I had not seen Reigh’s dragon since Barrowton. The sight of her without that redheaded troublemaker on her back made my stomach turn. What on earth had happened to him at Northwatch?
Either from terror or fatigue, Vexi didn’t resist as he inspected the contraption that had been clamped around her head. Her blue eyes panned between us, as her emerald hide shivered, and her ears drooped. It was a barbaric muzzle of some sort, with a pinching bit far at the back of the jaw that was angled so it would dig into her sensitive tongue if she rebelled. My blood pressure spiked to think of what sort of person would do this to a dragon.
There had been a time when the Dragonriders of Maldobar had fallen far from our original calling. We’d bred dragons like cattle and treated them as dumb animals. My father had done much in his reign to begin rectifying that. Wild dragons could no longer be captured or taken from their natural environment. It was illegal to steal their eggs or cut wing tendons, as well. But never in our history had we ever stooped this low. This was torture.
Closing his fists around a heavy iron chain at the back of the muzzle that ran behind her ears and horns, Phillip’s thick arms bulged as he gave a swift jerk. The chain snapped like a thread. I blushed and looked away. Phillip’s new strength would take some getting used to.
“There we go,” he crooned as he slowly started to slide the rest of the device off her head.
She gave a weak, low murring sound and pressed her snout against his chest like a frightened puppy wanting comfort.
Phillip chuckled and ran his hands over her scaly head. “You’re welcome, girl. Stay with us, all right? We’ll watch out for you.”
She chittered sadly in response.
“Can you can talk to her?” I asked as I stopped next to him, bending over to get a better look at the iron and steel muzzle that had been fastened to her head. It was a crude looking thing—with rough edges and unpolished finishes, as though it had been slapped together quickly and without much forethought.
Stranger still was the marking engraved onto the very top of it, right where the center of her head had been. A single glyph was etched deep into the metal. Was that how Aubren was able to control her?
“In a way,” Phillip replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I suppose it’s some kind of mutual animal understanding. I wouldn’t say we’re ready to start debating politics, though.”
“Maybe she can help us figure out what’s happened with Reigh,” I murmured as I lifted a glare to my brother. He had gone quiet again and hung limply over the back of Haldor’s saddle. I sighed. “But that will have to wait. Jaevid is right. We need to secure the mountain pass and get the city evacuated.”
As I stood straight again, the rest of my companions gathered in to listen. “Phillip, you ride with Calem and take point. I’ll have them follow you to the beginning of the pass. Haldor, you guard the rear and make sure we don’t leave anyone behind. Keep your eyes on Eirik. We’ll be counting on him to let us know we’ve got everyone. Phevos and I will circle and make sure nothing else interferes. If another one of Argonox’s surprises turns up, we will intercept and hold it off as long as possible.”
One by one, my riders responded with a dragonrider salute. Phillip nodded in agreement, his arms crossed and long tail flicking anxiously. Behind us, the air shuddered under a sudden burst of green light, flame, and roaring chaos. Everyone turned to look.
Jaevid and Mavrik had reached the keep.
My pulse throbbed in my fingertips as I watched the two king drakes collide midair. Their wings spread, and hind legs raised to attack with talons, they snarled and snapped as they grappled. They plummeted toward the earth together, only to break apart at the last second and begin another bout of aerial pursuit. It was a deadly dance that reminded me of two eagles battling for territory.
Another burst of green light made me jump back, bouncing off Phillip’s chest. He grasped my shoulders to steady me, and together we watched for a few seconds, frozen in silent awe. Standing in his saddle, Jaevid cast his earthen magic with concussive force, conjuring blasts that sent the wicked undead dragon reeling every time he got too close. It was a game. Jaevid was baiting them—leading them further and further from the city so we could get away without being caught in the crossfire.
Or so I hoped.
“He’ll win,” Phillip rumbled earnestly.
“He has to,” I whispered back.
* * *
Every second seemed like an eternity as we worked to get the townspeople and refugees safely out of Cernheist. Eirik and Aedan were leading a group of soldiers going door to door as fast as they could to be sure that no one was left behind. Progress was agonizingly slow. There were so many still injured that took time to get onto wagons, so they could be taken out of the city. There were many women, children, and elderly, too.
Cernheist had become a place of sanctuary for so many fleeing the Tibrans. However, it was not a fortress meant for battle. There were no city walls or ramparts to guard it or legions of soldiers to defend it. It was vulnerable and Argonox must have known that. He didn’t need an army to raze it—just one monstrous king drake and a few good sprays of its burning venom.
We could not afford to give him that chance.
Wheeling far above the frozen lake, Phevos and I watched the surrounding wilderness for any more signs of approaching Tibran forces. So far, there was no sign of a cavalry or support. Argonox really had sent two agents to take the city? I didn’t understand that. Then again, a king drake was a considerable force—especially pitted against an unfortified city.
Good thing we had one of our own to match him.
Jaevid and Mavrik pressed in hard, bringing fire and a hailstorm of that glowing green magic whenever the undead mount got in close. So far, they seemed evenly matched. Standing in her saddle, Beckah brandished a strange golden bow. I only assumed it was her. Her stature seemed too petite to be a man, but dressed out in full battle armor, it was impossible to tell for sure if it was a man or a woman in that saddle. Still, that did look like her armor from all the stories and paintings, although the helmet was new. It hid her face behind a visor painted to resemble a pair of eyes weeping golden tears.
She moved on Jaevid with a ruthless precision I tried not to envy. Her aim was deadly, and she fired arrow after arrow with unshaking precision. The only thing sparing Jaevid from each strike was his ability to cast some sort of deflective shield with his power. He blocked blow after blow, firing back and
snarling out words I couldn’t understand over the roar of battle. As far as I could tell, she never answered.
Landing on the top of Cernheist’s keep, I let Phevos take a quick breather while I took account of all my men. Perish, Calem, and Phillip made low passes back and forth, guiding the people out of the city toward the mountains. Aedan and Eirik were galloping down the streets on horseback, trying to organize efforts to make sure no one was left behind. Haldor and Turq, with Aubren in tow, made low circles while he waited to take up the rear position behind the crowd of refugees.
So far, so good.
Suddenly, the keep shuddered beneath us. Phevos flapped wildly, nearly losing his balance and letting out a yowl of panic. I gripped the saddle handles and brought him around, looking toward where Jaevid and Beckah had been dueling in the sky. They were gone. But there was a brand new, dragon-sized hole in the ice of the frozen lake.
Oh gods.
“What happened?” Haldor signaled as he and Turq landed next to us.
I shook my head. I hadn’t seen it. My heart thumped with wild panic as I watched the surface of the lake and waited.
The keep shuddered again as the two dragons burst up through the ice so close I could feel the force of their blows like a shockwave in the air. They were locked in combat, clawing and snapping as they rolled like two feral cats. Mavrik snagged the monstrous black dragon by the back of the neck and began trying to get leverage enough to break his neck. Would that even work on a dragon that already looked like it should be dead?
Then they emerged from the water, as well.
Jaevid came out first, sputtering and coughing as he heaved himself back onto the solid ice. He laid flat out for a second or two, catching his breath, and then got to his feet.
Not twenty yards away, Beckah emerged, too. She leapt out of the water, bow still in hand, and strode directly for him without missing a beat. Reaching back to draw another arrow from her quiver, she stalked toward him with smooth, even strides.
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