by Katie Cross
“I am troubled.”
The hatching?
“Yes.”
An odd ritual, to be sure. Why would one want to be hatched to an audience? You were not birthed with all the dragons watching.
“No, but it’s not like the hatchlings know any different. Maybe they don’t care.”
He thought on that with a low growl deep in his throat. Perhaps, but it still seems strange to me. What is the plan?
“Tomorrow, we meet with this Yushi witch.”
His eyes slitted, and his tongue flickered out. The desert dragons have been difficult to comprehend. They do not communicate with me at all. It’s … disconcerting.
Sanna tipped her head back to look into his eyes. “Luteis, why don’t forest dragons like witches?”
I was not raised with them. I wouldn’t know.
“They’ve never spoken with you about it or given you any clues? I always thought it was the way of things. But based on the way the witches here are so closely tied to the dragons, I can’t help but wonder …”
Forest dragons are different in temperament and intelligence. They can—and should—think for themselves.
“Yes. But …”
I’m sure something here ties back to the ancient agreement.
“The ancient agreement made by Gregor?”
He inclined his head. Forest dragons will be tied to Chatham Castle until Almorran magic is proven eradicated. Deasylva has spoken often of this.
Sanna had heard the agreement spoken of once before, but Daid had dismissed it. With the only surviving dragons living in Anguis, it had seemed preposterous that such an arrangement ever existed.
“Do you think Almorran magic has been eradicated?”
No. I can feel the weight of the agreement in my bones. I believe that would be gone if the magic didn’t exist anymore. It’s a terrible tie. Something we can never escape. Perhaps the forest dragons’ hatred of witches relates to the obligation. Didn’t Tashi say the desert dragons were a cursed race?
“She did, but I don’t know what that means. Maybe something about her goddess, Sarena?”
Perhaps.
Sanna gazed back outside for several minutes. She reached over, putting a hand on his scales, comforted by the touch. “Do you think that witches and forest dragons could ever be as close as the witches and desert dragons?”
He growled low in his chest, a warm, friendly kind of sound. Have you and I not already answered the question?
Warmth infused her.
“Yes, I suppose we have.”
Even if the rest of the forest dragons do not feel the same as you and I, that does not matter. We will be whatever we need to be. It’s up to the dragons—and, in some regards, the witches—to decide what is possible. Based on the dragons’ distrust since the massacre, I don’t foresee that happening soon. But a new generation is rising already, and you have the trust of Rosy and Junis.
“Yes.”
For some of us—he nudged her in the shoulder—being close to a human does not seem like the worst fate.
“Thanks.” She managed a wry smile. It faded, lost in the sudden urge to lie on the ground beneath sprawling trees and see nothing but the canopy. No stars. So expansive a sky made her feel lost. She drew in a deep breath.
“I miss home.”
I agree. This openness is … unsettling.
“I’m itching to get back. If things are really as dire as they say, we need to speak with the dragons and the Dragonmasters.” She scowled. “Especially Finn.”
Agreed.
“After we meet Yushi tomorrow, let’s return.”
Allow me to accompany you to the meeting. Sometimes, with witches, I have found it advantageous to be of greater size.
“Of course.” She grinned up at him. “I would never go without you.”
Sanna woke again to the sound of screaming. This time, however, there were no festivities. Luteis filled the cave door, blocking the light from outside. Elis stood behind him, taking up most of the cave. Before she could gain her feet, Luteis said, There is an attack.
“Who?”
I do not recognize them for certain, but they appear to be mountain dragons.
Still groggy with sleep, she crawled up his rigid spine and peered over his shoulder. Jesse already sat astride Elis, grim-faced. In the dim light, she could barely make out his mussed hair. Shadows swooped from the sky like wraiths. In the distance, fingers of sunlight just broke the horizon—darkness still hovered over the city.
Witches screamed. The shrieks of the desert dragons rang above the burgeoning chaos.
“No fire,” she whispered.
None.
Something thick and stinging filled the air, however, whispering by with every small gust of wind. It stung the back of Sanna’s throat.
“Mountain dragons, indeed,” she murmured, recalling that heady stench from when Daid died. “Let’s go.”
You desire to fight?
“Those monsters killed my daid.” Sanna gripped her knife hilt tighter. “You have no idea how much I want to fight.”
“We’ll go too,” Jesse said, meeting Sanna’s gaze. “For Rian.”
Luteis fell silent.
Shouts called out over the terrified screams. Bodies flashed by the cave as Luteis stepped outside. Sanna tightened her knees around the place where the base of his neck met his body. The magic held her secure, but she felt better with a firmer grip.
Within moments, he was airborne, nearly silent amongst the shrill cries from below. They flew higher. In the waning moonlight, she thought she saw desert dragons darting through the air. Even in flight, they blended in with the sand from above.
We must be careful, Luteis said, likely more to Elis, who flew alongside them, than Sanna. Night fades quickly.
Shadows appeared in the air. The mountain dragons. Their transportation ability gave them a distinct advantage, even over the speed of the desert dragons. But Luteis and Elis were almost invisible in the night, and their size would benefit them in direct attacks. Besides, there seemed to be no witches with the mountain dragons.
Mountain dragons and desert dragons battled in the air above the sand, while the scurry of witches continued below. Most hurried toward the caves, leaping into crevices that provided some cover. Mountain dragons flew by the witches, or appeared out of nowhere with gleaming talons. Sanna drew an arm over her nose and mouth. Her throat burned like coal. Their acid is foul, she said. Let’s get this over with, shall we?
It would be my pleasure, Luteis purred. Then he dove.
Wind tore through Sanna’s hair, sending it flying behind her like a banner as they plummeted toward the ground. Three mountain dragons, flying abreast, darted toward a group of women running for the hills, slowed by small children.
Luteis—there. The children.
Luteis leaned to the right, changing course toward them. Within seconds, he swooped above the dragons. The middle mountain dragon looked up, shrieked, then disappeared.
The other two crunched beneath Luteis’s hind legs.
He grabbed them by their necks, and then unfurled his wings. The rapid descent halted as he pulled them back into the air. Sanna gritted her teeth against the quick change in direction. The two mountain dragons in his claws flailed, gnashing their long, pointed teeth. Could they vanish? It didn’t seem so—at least, they hadn’t yet. Isadora had said something about not being able to transport if someone was touching her.
Luteis’s body jerked back and forth despite his powerful wingbeats counteracting the mountain dragons’ mad thrashing. A tingle flared in Sanna’s chest, as if heat had just been poured over her heart. It flowed through her arms, all the way down to her fingertips, which warmed like fire. Below, the women and children disappeared into the rocks.
“We’re going to crash!” Sanna called.
Luteis curled his talons into the dragons’ necks, then reached down with his head, snapping at their wings. The mountain dragons hissed. Something caught
Sanna’s eye from the side. She turned. Her eyes widened.
“Luteis!”
His head popped up seconds before another mountain dragon—this one almost equal in size to Luteis—slammed into them.
Sanna felt the impact all the way up her spine.
Her teeth jarred. She shifted to the right, clinging to Luteis’s back. He bellowed, released the mountain dragons, and lashed out with his tail and fire. The bigger mountain dragon screamed, the muscles of his strong neck taut all the way to his powerful chest. A pendant hung from his neck—something round. Thin. As if hollowed out of bone. Clouds of yellow billowed from his mouth. Sanna ducked, throwing her arms over her face. Luteis spun, angling her away from the cloud, and absorbed it with the scales of his belly.
Acid! he said. Don’t breathe.
The strange heat in Sanna’s chest expanded, demanding release. But how could she let it go? What was it? The mountain dragon followed as Luteis maneuvered away from the poison. Luteis threw his tail in an arc, but the dragon disappeared, reappearing only a few wingbeats away. His eyes seemed wild, almost lost.
For what felt like an eternity, they attempted to fight. The dragon disappeared, always reappearing in a more advantageous spot. Keeping track of him set Sanna’s hair on edge. She reached for her knife, feeling as if her hand were on fire.
What can I do? she asked. I feel so … helpless. So itchy. I need to do something.
Remain calm and protect yourself.
She frowned.
But I want to help! This doesn’t feel right.
Wind bore the acid behind them, clearing the air. Sanna coughed, eyes watering. Three other mountain dragons appeared in a semicircle. They looked to each other, as if speaking, then disappeared. Only the largest remained, glittering eyes on Sanna.
Do they communicate? Sanna asked. Is this their leader?
It would appear they have some form of organization, although I cannot see any patterns. The rest of the dragons seem … a bit wild. Not unlike the desert dragons, but obviously, with greater intelligence.
The mountain dragons roved the sky, tearing into lone, weak desert dragons. Some grabbed at the tents, snapping left and right. Other harassed the desert dragons on the cliffs. The mountain dragons’ wiry bodies changed colors with the landscape as they moved, creating a strange sense of motion below.
It doesn’t make sense, she said. What are they doing here?
One mountain dragon streaked by, shrieking at the top of its lungs. Something wild seemed to possess its eyes, as if it weren’t really aware. It continued on, screaming for no apparent reason, before disappearing into the lightening sky. Another mountain dragon flew into the cliffs, slamming into a rock. It fell, wing broken, and twitched on the ground.
We need a plan of attack, Luteis said. Theirs is madness. We cannot follow suit and expect to overcome them.
I think we aren’t the only ones attacking. Sanna motioned to the ocean.
A cloud billowed out of the water, saturating the air with unexpected moisture. Tendrils of fog slipped over the land, heading toward them. Rain pelted the ground, rolling in with the storm. Waves surged, audible even though a craggy line of sandy rocks separated the camp from the water.
The surge of rain brought the desert dragons out in greater numbers. The mountain dragons hissed, disappearing, then attempting to reappear farther away. The cloud seemed to chase them, spreading in all directions at once.
Two other dragons appeared by the largest mountain dragon, then disappeared. As if suddenly remembering them, the leader climbed toward Luteis and Sanna with surprising dexterity.
Sanna stood up, eyeing the distance to the ground. Several hundred paces, at least. The leader closed in, a glassy expression coating his eyes. Thirty paces away. In just a few seconds, he’d slam into them. The mountain dragon snarled and snapped, shrieking like the others.
They were all mad.
If there was anything that couldn’t be trusted, a mad dragon was it.
You’re confident in your diving abilities? she asked.
Very.
Then don’t let me hit the ground.
Before he could argue, she leapt off his back.
Her stomach caught as she free-fell for half a breath before landing on something solid. The mountain dragon shrieked as she wound an arm around his neck, clinging to him, before she nearly fell off the other side. He beat his wings, slowing his flight. They wobbled in the sky. Sanna’s right arm flailed with her knife, sliding along the dragon’s scales.
You have courage, little one, but not even that knife can break my scales. I am not here to kill you.
The quiet, serpentine voice that filled her mind sent a shock through Sanna—she almost let go. Her knife fell from her hands, clattering to the ground, as the mountain dragon evened out. No magic kept her safe here, which made every subtle shift feel wrong. He drew his wings to their full length, stabilizing them. Sanna paused, heart racing.
“You can speak?”
We are not wild as the desert dragons. I come to deliver a message. Call off your dragon.
Sanna glanced up to see Luteis circling, snapping as he flew. Flickers of fire illuminated the waning night. Below, the mountain dragons seemed to disappear one at a time. Rain flooded the camp. Fog loomed around them, hiding the ground. Quiet had fallen.
Luteis, she said. Wait. He’s speaking with me.
Luteis calmed, though his eyes glittered with malice.
“What is your message?” she asked.
Surrender or die.
“A bit dramatic,” she muttered.
My goddess, Selsay, demands your allegiance.
Sanna groaned. “Not another one!” He craned his head around to glance at her. Amidst the slivers of … something, she thought she saw sanity. Intelligence. Perhaps even desperation. His nostrils flared, as if smelling her out. He turned around.
You do not respect her.
“I don’t have any idea who Selsay is.”
Do you fear her?
“Hardly.”
Luteis, she said. Go beneath us, and be ready.
Subtle as a shadow, he descended. The mountain dragon tracked him. Unlike Luteis, with his expansive back and large body, this dragon had less room for her—and less flying finesse. Her teeth ached from bouncing up and down as he navigated in a broad circle over the field. Rigid spines stuck up from both the bottom and the top of his neck.
If goddesses had a problem with each other, why couldn’t they figure it out? The fast-growing rain clouds built overhead. The dragon eyed them.
I am Pemba, leader of the mountain dragons. If you do not surrender the forest dragons to Selsay’s will, we shall attack.
“I’m sure you will.”
You do not take us seriously! Pemba hissed. You insult the goddess of the mountains!
“Calm down,” she snapped. “Tell your goddess we’re not surrendering anything.”
If you will not, I shall—
She felt him shifting down before he finished his thought, and took the moment to roll to the side. One of his spines stabbed her shoulder as she tumbled off him, plunging to the earth. A second of perilous free fall passed before she slammed into Luteis. The magic seemed to grab her even before she touched him, anchoring him to his warm back.
If you were planning an attack on the foul creature, he said, curt, I would have appreciated advance notice.
Sorry. Last-minute idea.
Luteis plunged into a dive. Sanna grabbed his shoulders, clinging to him. Rain sluiced down his scales, pelting her face. She glanced back to see Pemba just above them in the air, then he disappeared. She frowned. The dive through the now-empty air seemed to do the trick of getting rid of them.
Pemba didn’t follow.
Let’s go see if we can help, Sanna said. I’ll tell you what Pemba said later. He’s their brood sire, I think.
There was much about that that was odd, Luteis said. I could not speak with Pemba. Or perhaps he ignored me.
>
Or he’s dependent upon touch.
Perhaps. There is much we don’t know.
They alighted on the ground amidst shrieks and screams. Sanna slid off his back, then paused. Her hands dropped to her sides.
On the ground lay a young Western Network boy and his brand-new hatchling, both stilled in death.
Isadora’s headache pounded like the tide.
It rippled across her neck, tightening her muscles all the way down her spine. She rubbed her fingers in a circle on her temples. When her eyes closed, she could feel the magic tugging on her.
She opened her eyes and grimaced. Something had to be done.
Soon.
Without admitting defeat to Maximillion.
An almost empty lavanda greeted her. All the recently cleaned linens were gone, leaving nothing but cords of firewood, driftwood, barrels, and cupboards. Darkness cloaked the room where the light from her candles didn’t reach.
Outside, a gale howled, whipping against the castle, sending rolling waves high onto the shore, which seemed perilously close. The slap of water on the wall sent cold shudders through Isadora. The ocean seemed livid enough to swallow them whole. She wondered if La Torra had ever been engulfed in waves. They didn’t seem so far away now.
After breakfast, only a few piles of laundry had awaited her, left over from yesterday. She’d sped through it, sorting with greater ease. Silk. Linen. Cotton. The bubble of boiling water and the scent of a particularly tough cleaning potion had filled her nostrils. The lavanda heated up quickly, but she didn’t mind the heat.
Two hours had passed before she had all the material stretched on drying racks or hanging from the walls.
Satisfied, she stepped into the hall.
Footsteps echoed to the left, a light, fast staccato. One of Cecelia’s maids, probably. But why would she be down here?