FLIGHT

by Katie Cross

  “I never said we had a problem.”

  A slithering, hissing sound rumbled out of him. Sanna tensed, reaching for her knife. Luteis’s wings tensed. Several seconds passed before she realized Yushi was laughing. Luteis lowered his head with a rippling growl.

  Let’s leave.

  Wait.

  “The goddesses are awakening,” Yushi said. “So are the old jealousies. Selsay, goddess of the mountains, has made foolish decisions. A fit of madness has taken hold of her dragons, poisoning their progeny and themselves. They cannot function as dragons should. Their minds are nearly lost. Selsay seeks to heal them—”

  “Hardly a reason for war.”

  “—by killing forest dragons and drinking their blood.”

  Luteis hissed.

  Sanna tensed. Of course. Forest-dragon blood had healing properties. Why hadn’t she seen that coming?

  “Not even you can dispute this,” Yushi said, seething arrogance in his voice. “Even you have seen their uncontrollable fits of madness.”

  Sanna pressed her lips together. All the information slid into place, creating a grisly—but clear—picture. Whatever Selsay wanted, her dragons weren’t well. And if Selsay knew of the power of forest-dragon blood, the forest dragons were in even more danger than Sanna had anticipated. She hesitated. Could she trust Yushi?

  “Prana has asked me to speak with you.” His liquid black gaze flickered over Sanna’s shoulder. A hint of disdain colored his tone. “As her emissary, I have been working with the desert dragons in an attempt to create peace with Selsay.”

  “Has it worked?”

  He stared at her with a flat, unperturbed expression. Heat flushed Sanna’s neck. Of course it hadn’t worked. Why else had there been an attack early that morning?

  Sanna clenched her knife hilt a little tighter. “How do we defeat her?”

  “Dragons don’t defeat goddesses.”

  “What do they do?”

  Yushi blinked lazily. “They defeat each other. A goddess is only as strong as her dragon force, which is only as strong as its Dragomaster.” He drew himself up, blocking the sun with his elegant neck. “If Selsay decides to turn her fight toward Prana, we’ll be forced to fight. Dragon to dragon. That is why it is so important that you have come. A war is brewing between the goddesses, daughter of the forest. And you are the only one who can stop it.”

  No wonder Tashi said the dragons owed you something.

  “Then we’re in bad shape,” she muttered.

  Yushi paused, tongue slipping out, before saying, “My goddess desires to form an alliance with you, High Dragonmaster.”

  “No.”

  His gaze tapered. “Interesting.”

  “Is it?”

  “There may come a time when an alliance with a powerful goddess could turn the tide in your favor. Indeed, it may be the only thing that can save the forest dragons from … dissent within?”

  Sanna clenched her teeth. “There may also come a time when the Western goddess returns,” she said, “but I don’t really see that happening.”

  “Your arrogance will get you into trouble.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “You truly don’t see yourself as High Dragonmaster,” he said. “I didn’t believe them. What fool would disdain such an honor? And yet … you stand before me.”

  “It was forced upon me at a time it was needed, then taken away.”

  “Greatness often is.”

  “It’s not mine anymore.”

  “Not if you don’t want it.”

  “If you want to win a war, do it yourself. The forest dragons can’t be expected to save you when you did nothing to save us.”

  “One could hardly have stopped the massacre of long ago,” he said. “You blame the wrong species, witch.”

  Another pause. He seemed contemplative, even intrigued. Then all emotion faded from his expression. Something strange about the ferocity in his eyes reminded her of the desert dragons.

  “If you want back-up,” she said, “talk to the forest dragons themselves. I have no right to speak for them.”

  “Interesting,” he murmured. “This means Deasylva is even weaker than Prana expected.”

  “If the dragons want to fight, I’m no dictator who will stop them. They get to make their own choices now. But things might be a little different in Letum Wood than you’re anticipating.”

  “You’re odd,” he murmured, “but at least you speak the truth.”

  She said nothing.

  Yushi retreated, taking the ocean with him. Sanna breathed easier once he slid backward. Luteis’s tense forelegs eased. Yushi acted as if he didn’t notice.

  “I’ll give you time to ponder this, daughter of the forest.” Frothy white waves swept around him. “No doubt Selsay will convince you soon enough just how much you need an alliance. The time will come when you cannot win alone. My offer stands.”

  With that, he slipped back beneath the waves.

  “You’re leaving.”

  Tashi stood at the mouth of the cave, her sheer linen skirt whipping in the breeze. Sanna shoved a hunk of airy bread and a woven bag of seeds into her blanket. She tied it, then slung it over her shoulder.

  “We must.”

  Tashi placidly surveyed her.

  Sanna scowled and breezed past her. “Are you going to lecture me on my duty to become High Dragonmaster?”

  Tashi swiveled to follow. “Do I need to?”

  “I’ve heard enough. I’ve seen enough. The last time we had a leader, it destroyed all of our history and could possibly be the reason for the extinction of the forest dragons today. I won’t be responsible for that.”

  “That may happen anyway.”

  Sanna scowled. “I won’t be responsible for it.”

  “So you think.”

  “Yushi is a sea dragon that, clearly, has enough power to take care of this problem for both of you.”

  “Sea dragons cannot fight on land, except perhaps right along the coast where they can use the ocean to their advantage. You see the desert dragons—they pose no threat. Forest dragons, however, can fight on land. You are the only force that can fight against Selsay in the mountains. Until she is controlled, she will allow this wild breeding and eventually take over. The consequences extend far beyond dragons, but to the world.”

  Sanna scowled and headed toward Luteis, perched on top of the cave. His eyes scanned the sky. Elis stood next to him. Both appeared regal in the glimmering, relentless sunlight. Jesse stood with a group of witches—mostly female, which only perturbed Sanna more—a few paces away.

  “Jesse,” she barked. “We’re leaving.”

  As soon as he saw her, he turned back to the amassed witches, pressed three fingers to his chin, and drew them away. The witches did the same. Young desert dragons hid in the rocks, some buried in the sand with only their eyes peeking out. Both Elis and Luteis ignored them.

  “Whatever will happen, will happen, Sanna,” Tashi said. “Do you want the weight of that on your shoulders?”

  “The forest dragons won’t act,” Sanna said. “Do you not understand? They don’t know how. Talis ruled them for the last century and a half. They can’t … they can’t even fly or hunt. I’ve tried, and they don’t care. I won’t be a tyrant, even if some irresponsible goddess did force me into the position of High Dragonmaster at one point. If the desert dragons need us, they’ll have to figure something else out.”

  “They need you, daughter of the forest.”

  “Yushi can figure it out on his own.”

  “I didn’t mean Yushi.”

  “Fine. The desert dragons.”

  “Or them.”

  Sanna stopped. Tashi stared at her, eyes full of expectation.

  “The forest dragons?” Sanna asked. “That’s what you mean?”

  “No. You. Regardless of whether you will help us fight or not, Pemba is about to be your problem. No amount of denying what—and who—you are will stop that. Like it or
not, you are the High Dragonmaster of the forest dragons, or the closest thing there is to one. Perhaps you will not fight for the desert dragons, but soon you will be forced to fight.”

  A grouping of desert dragons soared overhead, drawing Sanna’s gaze. She watched them fly, wings outstretched, with a catch in her belly. Even feral, they were regal. Like all dragons, they possessed a sort of unbound beauty.

  Sanna turned away.

  “Look, the forest dragons are a mess. They’re split into groups of two, maybe three by now. There’s no solidarity. We’re just coming out of a tyrannical, disastrous rule. Leadership—and a goddess who abandoned us to slaughter—isn’t really high on the forest dragons' trust list. Even if I was High Dragonmaster, it wouldn't matter. They don’t listen to me. They blame me for all their current problems.”

  “For the betterment of the world, you must figure it out,” she said quietly. “We cannot stand divided. For centuries, we have tried. If we fail, so do the dragons, with consequences far deadlier than anything we've ever seen.”

  Sanna turned away, scowl deepening, and approached Luteis’s side with relief. The urge to get away bore down on her. She wanted to be back now. In the forest. Amidst the trees.

  Are you ready? Luteis asked without tearing his gaze from the sky.

  Been ready since we left home.

  Rustling came from nearby. Clods of tightly packed sand dropped from the cave face, revealing a small collection of hatchlings gathered on top. They slithered backward but stayed within sight. They weren’t total cowards, anyway. Their eyes flickered to Luteis, then back to Sanna, then back to Luteis.

  Luteis nudged Sanna. We must be on our way. Storms arise in the south and move quickly.

  “I’m sorry, Tashi,” Sanna said. “But there’s nothing I can do to help. The forest dragons are scattered. Not even a High Dragonmaster can change that.”

  Jesse climbed atop Elis, waving to his new friends, while Sanna settled herself high on Luteis’s shoulders. Seeing Tashi so far below gave Sanna no comfort.

  “May the goddess look down on you, Sanna of the forest,” Tashi said, eyes squinting as she gazed up at her. “For all our sakes.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sea foam lapped at Isadora’s ankles.

  Stars smattered the sky like an open scroll. A hint of marmalade lingered near the horizon, where the storm had retreated an hour before sunset. In the distance, a spout of water broke from the ocean. The staff told tales of massive creatures beneath the waves—dragons, sharks, whales. Magical fish with teeth as long as her hand.

  Isadora shuddered.

  The distant clink of armor betrayed Guardians nearby, but they had already passed on their rounds. The laugh of a chef rolled out from the kitchen windows far away. The sound of a distant aquila crying rang in the background, but no flapping of wings followed. Candlelight winked in several windows, as if La Torra were on fire. Another small bank of land lay off La Torra’s shores, not far beyond the break of waves, invisible in the darkness.

  Isadora tossed her knotted stockings behind a spindly cocoanut tree with a grimace. The bright pink fruit on the inside of the hard discs tasted mildly sweet—she’d take a fallen one back to her room after this.

  The magic burned bright, triggering a headache behind her eyes. With the magic acting like a wild thing, she’d never be able to help Lucey. Nor could she leave now—it would take any other Advocacy member twice as long to integrate in, earn trust, and find out more information. And time ticked away. With La Torra mostly empty thanks to the raid, there would be no better time to release her magic.

  She glanced over her shoulder before advancing into a hissing wave, intent on the small bank of sand not far away. It would have to do.

  The warm water lapped around her shoulders when she slipped into it, the salty taste of the ocean on her lips. Thanks to the frantic flapping of her arms and legs—and a gentle ocean in the wake of the storm—she stayed afloat as she battled the rolling tides. Only a few minutes of treading the warm water passed before she felt sand under her feet again.

  Her eyes adjusted to the darkness just before she caught the rocky shore with her toes. A darting movement captured her attention. She looked down.

  “What the—”

  An underwater world teemed with life beneath her.

  Bright sapphire fish glided by with lazy ease. Elegant, flowing tendrils, like bright green fingers, waved back and forth. Beneath it all crawled a network of … something riddled with holes. Tiny fish flittered in and out of the spots nearest her. The surface below felt sharp beneath her feet and stretched as far as she could see in the murky water.

  “Beautiful.”

  A sudden attack of nerves arrested her. She glanced at La Torra, winking with candlelight, then at the sky. No aquilas or East Guards. Despite her fear, the calm atmosphere lulled her with the reassuring swish of the waves. Did she have a choice? The magic careened in her mind, plunging her back into agony. No. No choice. She’d have to hurry. The Defenders could return at any moment. She lay back in the sand and let the water rush around her.

  A violent, breathtaking jerk took her away.

  The powers opened on their own. She stood beneath the familiar, soaring canopy of Letum Wood again. Light raced through the forest in unbroken streams, so bright she recoiled. Crisp lines infused every leaf and twig with details that hurt her eyes. She shielded her face with an arm. Wild wisps and sharp jerks of the trail appeared. The air itself hummed with frenetic energy. She tried to shove her power free, as if she could bundle it together and dump it all at once.

  The chaos brightened.

  Frightened, Isadora tried to close the magic. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision. The magic fought, tugging her back. The light brightened. With a grunt, she pulled free, slipping away from its steel-like tendrils.

  Cool water slapped her face.

  Isadora shot up with a sputter, nearly submerged in a rolling wave. She shook droplets from her face and blinked. How long had she been gone? Moments, surely. No sound lingered around her except the waves. She braced herself, prepared for Defenders to rush at her with their whips.

  Nothing happened.

  Her powers overwhelmed her, like a dam breaking again. With a shove, she fell back to the sand and tumbled into the magic. The paths shone with energy and power. Isadora closed her eyes, pushed her fears aside, and allowed the power to unfurl. Her heart fluttered. Her body felt as if it would disintegrate.

  Once the initial surge of power faded, she opened her eyes. The forest continued to glow, but without the same manic energy. For several moments she stood there, blinking. Intricate paths heavy with wisps—almost too thick to walk through—awaited her.

  She didn’t even recognize her own magic anymore.

  “Show me only Sanna’s path.”

  A confusing array of wisps popped up. Mountains. Dragons. Sanna, with a heavy frown, on the back of Luteis. None of them made sense, but she studied them anyway, moving from one to the next, drawing comfort from any sight of her sister.

  Where was Daid?

  Mam?

  The other Dragonmasters?

  Jesse cropped up in one path. When she followed it until she caught glimpses of Mam. Sanna seemed to have left the Central Network. But why? What terrible thing could force Sanna, of all witches, from Letum Wood? Surely, Maximillion would have told her if she needed to be concerned.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Isadora returned to the beginning to find new paths had populated, some occurring in Letum Wood. Perhaps she hadn’t left, then.

  She frowned. There had to be a sense to the chaos, a purpose to a magic as powerful and consuming as this. “What are you for?” she murmured to the still air. “Why do I have you?”

  The magic didn’t respond.

  “Show only my paths.”

  Wisps disappeared, decluttering the space. For what felt like hours, she wandered, searching for Lucey. Anything that might happen within La Torra�
��s borders remained blurry, indistinct. She couldn’t see the future at La Torra.

  Interesting.

  Somewhat comforted by the familiarity of wandering the paths, she returned to the beginning. The light hadn’t ebbed, but her chest felt lighter.

  “Show me Lucey’s path.”

  Sanna’s paths disappeared, but nothing replaced them. Isadora frowned. She attempted Lorenzo’s but couldn’t see his either. Too far away, perhaps. Or the suppressive magic of La Torra prevented it somehow.

  Frustrated, she turned back to the space where the paths began. Behind her, more forest lingered. Nothing new there. A thousand possibilities for testing the magic occurred to her, but she'd tried them all before. Instead, she sat at the base of the biggest tree. The roots were taller than she was.

  She stared into the forest, letting the power flow away from her.

  A blast of light tossed Isadora back against the root. Her back slammed into the tree, jarring her teeth. When she looked up, a pillar of light climbed up from the ground like bubbling water. It coalesced into a familiar pair of boots, then broad shoulders and perpetual scowl.

  Maximillion.

  Isadora clambered to her feet, not taking her eyes away.

  “Max?”

  The wind rustled, as it had before. Merciful.

  Isadora stopped only a few paces away, eyes narrowed. She’d seen this before—more than once—but this time was different. Bolder. More clear. She could even see the gritty determination in his eyes.

  This wisp had appeared on its own. That had never happened before. So why was he here?

  “You,” she murmured with a shake of her head. “You maddening … child of a man.”

  The pillar vanished.

  Seconds later, it bubbled back up, into a child half the size of Maximillion, but with the same piercing eyes. A split lip, a swollen eye, and a livid scowl graced his young face. Her breath caught.

  “Max?”

  The young wisp seemed frozen in time, caught in a moment of terrified crisis. Isadora reached out to touch the vapor. It disintegrated and reformed.