Lyric felt impossibly small beneath the weighty presence of the dragons’ eyes. It was an effort to remain standing with a straight back, and if Runa hadn’t been beside her, defiantly staring up at the Old Ones, she would have cowered on the ground.
“We need your help!” Runa yelled. Her voice was fierce and determined. “Erith is dying!”
The eyes continued to watch them, and one of the dragons, its color unknown in the darkness, opened its mouth, releasing a burst of mesmerizing blue flame. In the blinding flash of light, everything disappeared.
Lyric squeezed Runa’s fingers as blindness overtook her, clinging on for dear life.
“Ow, Ly!” Runa hissed, attempting to wrench her hand free.
Lyric loosened her grip but didn’t let go, blinking furiously until her eyes refocused on her sister’s pained face, and the hissing red wyvern.
They were standing in … nothingness, the world replaced with pale gray mist. There was no visible floor beneath Lyric’s feet, but it didn’t feel like she was floating either. What was below them, holding them up? Were they back in the Veil? Inside a cloud? Or was this another in-between place, suspended between the living world and the Veil?
Lyric could still feel eyes on her. Looking up, she saw four dragons, gliding high above with wings outstretched. One dragon was pale white, like snow; another deep black, the color of obsidian; and the third dragon a brilliant scarlet. The fourth was blue and unbelievably long, with flowing tendrils curving back from its long head and fins like a gigantic water serpent. The others looked like she’d imagined, all scales and teeth, with horns and long, spiked tails.
The dragons circled, watching, the blue dragon hissing at the others, and then, just as suddenly as their arrival in this place, they were gone. Four figures appeared in front of Lyric and Runa, tall but not overly so. They seemed to be human, but she knew they were not. There was something feral in their eyes and the way they held themselves. Something ancient.
In the center stood a woman with long, white hair and impossibly blue eyes. She was beautiful, with a pale, narrow face and thin arms. A shimmering white dress, seemingly made from diamonds of ice, draped her slender frame.
To her left, was a man with dark red hair and dangerous, golden eyes. His face was strong, imperial, and his unamused stare made Runa’s glare look petulant and childish. His skin was the color of heated copper.
On the woman’s right, was another woman, taller and muscular, like a warrior, with dark, umber skin and short, black hair. Her eyes were gold, like the man’s, but a darker, deeper color. Her dress was a mixture of white, brown and black, like a beautiful stone with gemstone veins running through it.
Slightly off to the side, standing well away from the other three, was a curvaceous woman with pale blue hair and wide-set eyes that, when they briefly crossed over Lyric’s face, seemed to shift between green and blue like an ocean storm. The woman glared at the other Old Ones, an expression of pure venom contorting her heart-shaped face. “No,” she said, and promptly disappeared.
The white-haired woman sighed, a weary sound that swept from her lungs like a winter wind through the mountains, and turned her piercing eyes on Lyric and Runa.
Lyric’s wyvern shifted uneasily beside her, its eyes tracking the movements of the remaining three dragons.
Are you in danger? the wyvern asked inside her head.
Lyric didn’t respond, staring at the legendary figures in front of her. The white-haired woman had to be Aery, and the muscular woman in black was likely Rath. That meant that the man with red hair and golden eyes was Fyre.
“Who summoned us?” Aery asked. She blinked, a slow, dispassionate movement like someone still waking from deep sleep.
“We did,” Runa blurted, her fingers tight on Lyric’s hand.
Lyric searched for her sister’s emotions, the shared nervousness and awe Runa must also be feeling, but she felt nothing. Ever since Runa’s separation from her body, their connection had been muted, unreliable. Lyric still wasn’t used to it. And now that Gandara was gone, she felt unusually hollow.
Are you well? the wyvern asked inside her head.
Lyric blinked. Well, not entirely hollow. Warmth trickled through Lyric’s chest outward, moving through her arms and legs. Her fingers tingled. Was the wyvern sending her energy?
Focus, Lyric reminded herself. Runa was introducing them.
“You are ours,” Rath, the woman in black, said. Her eyes were unnerving and dangerous. “And …” Her nostrils flared as if she was scenting the air. “You are also of Serith.”
Fyre curled his lip in disgust. “She abandons us again,” he said. “Did you notice?”
“Erith is dying,” Lyric said. Her mouth dried as all three dragons stared at her, their eyes ancient and knowing. She felt completely naked, stripped bare of everything but the bones beneath her skin. Could they see her heart beating in her chest? Could they hear it?
“Dying?” Aery asked. She frowned, and her eyes lost focus as if she could see something beyond them in the mist.
Rath crouched down and pressed a hand against the nothingness beneath their feet. “The Taint,” she said. Her voice was grim, concerned.
“It’s back?” Fyre asked, eyes widening with alarm. “How? We trapped her!” He whirled, his hands clenching, and bared his teeth at Lyric and Runa. “Did you release her? Foolish children! Did she seduce you with promises of power? Of eternal youth? I should strip the flesh from your bones! I should —”
“Calm, Fyre,” Aery said, putting a hand on his arm.
Lyric swallowed; her heart had stopped beating.
The white dragon shifted her gaze to Lyric, and the tense wyvern beside her. “Soothe your guardians,” she said. “We won’t harm you.”
Lyric glanced sideways and saw blue light glowing along the wyvern’s mouth. She looked at Runa and saw flickers of flame flaring up along the red wyvern’s clenched jaw.
Calm, Lyric thought, hoping the wyvern couldn’t feel the terror inside her. Don’t attack.
It glanced at her, gold eyes uncertain, then settled atop her shoulder like a heavy bird. Lyric’s anxiety retreated somewhat as its tail curled loosely around her throat.
“How did the Taint return to Erith?” Aery asked.
Lyric exchanged a look with Runa, both frowning in confusion. “Return? All we know is it was released when someone attempted to summon you before, thirteen years ago.”
Rath, standing back up, exchanged a look with Fyre. “Someone attempted to summon us before?”
“King Rakarn of Raendashar,” Runa said. “He wanted to control you, use you in his war against the Sireni.”
Aery looked sad and regretful. “They fell to war then. The Council disbanded?”
“What other outcome could there be?” Fyre barked. “After what Serith did …”
“Yes,” Lyric said, looking between Aery and Fyre. “It disbanded centuries ago. We wish to stop the war too, but —”
“But that’s not why we called you back,” Runa interrupted. “When the ritual failed, it destroyed the cities of Thenda, poisoning the land and the Sea of Screams. We thought it contained, but the Mother Tree in Ayanar told them it’s been spreading underground for years.”
“Aya?” Fyre asked. He frowned and arched a thick brow.
“Whatever the Taint touches dies or becomes corrupted and twisted,” Lyric said. “If left free —”
“Yes,” Aery said. “We know the destruction it can cause. It is good you summoned us. Perhaps it is not too late.”
“Your fire can destroy it, right?” Runa asked. “Stop it from spreading?”
Aery inclined her head.
Relief flooded through Lyric, and she squeezed her sister’s hand. The Old Ones would save them; they’d save their father, save Mama. They could remove Kell’s silence, give him back his memories. They could end the war!
“We need to examine where it was released,” Aery continued, “determine if —” She cut off
, frowning. “Something’s wrong,” she said.
“What are they doing?” Fyre demanded, his fingers rising to brace his skull.
Rath spun, her fingers elongating into sharp claws. “Who is—”
Aery roared, throwing her head back, the sound dangerous and angry, ripping from her throat in tones no human could make. White flames shot from her mouth, rushing upwards impossibly high and burning a path through the mist.
Fyre and Rath roared with her, writhing as though something crawled beneath their skin. Their eyes glowed wild, animalistic. There was nothing rational in their eyes, no enlightened understanding.
Gasping, Lyric grabbed Runa’s arm as Rath screamed and scratched long furrows in her own cheeks.
The blue wyvern, roaring beside Lyric’s ear, gripped her shoulder hard enough that its claws pierced her skin. Lyric could feel power building in its body, and corresponding pressure in her chest.
Runa pulled away from her.
The dragons leaped upwards, their bodies changing, growing impossibly large as they clawing up into the sky, their human shapes abandoned. Fire blasted from their mouths.
“What’s going on?” Lyric yelled, turning towards her sister. She staggered; it felt like she was moving, shifting sideways.
The mist vanished, the clearing popping back into view. Trees burned to her left, lighting the night, and screams filled the air.
Lyric gasped as pain exploded in her head. She reeled, reaching shaking fingers to her skull. The pain fled, almost instantly, and she blinked tears from her eyes, focusing on Runa.
Her sister’s wyvern shrieked, back arching, and then it focused its eyes on Lyric. Fire shot from its mouth.
“No!” Runa screamed, her hand flying out.
Lyric shrieked, falling backward as a burning bolt rushed straight towards her.
Danger! her wyvern screeched inside her head. It spun and something curved out in front of Lyric glittering as the fiery arrow exploded across it.
Lowering her arm, Lyric stared at the shield with wide eyes as it flickered and died, red spiderwebs of color crackling across its surface as both faded away. It’d absorbed the fire from Runa’s wyvern.
“It tried to kill me!” Lyric yelled.
She’s compromised! I’ll protect you, the blue wyvern said.
“What?” Lyric turned and saw her wyvern erupt with blue light. “No!”
An arrow of water shot away from it, aimed at Runa.
Runa yelped and dove sideways, her wyvern throwing up a shield and deflecting the attack away from her.
“Lyric, stop!” Eleden yelled, his voice loud and commanding from somewhere to Lyric’s right.
Sashala appeared beside her, running out of the darkness, her hand clamping onto Lyric’s wrist and wrenching her hand sideways.
“It’s not me!” Lyric gasped, twisting in her grip, trying to put herself between her wyvern and Runa.
Danger! the wyvern shrieked inside her mind.
“Stop it! Stop attacking!” Lyric yelled. She could feel a connection to the wyvern, a tether of power inside her chest, but when she tried to grab it, it slipped away from her.
She turned wild eyes to Sashala, who stared at her with grim confusion. “Get me out of here!” Lyric yelled, pulling the Sireni woman towards the trees. “I can’t stop it!”
Without a word, Sashala yanked on Lyric’s arm and sprinted into the forest.
Towed along, Lyric ran after her, ignoring the pain in her feet as she dashed across rocks and twigs. She looked behind her and saw the blue wyvern flying after her, its head moving between Runa in the clearing and Lyric.
Eleden and Laerdi moved in front of Runa, blocking her from Lyric’s view.
Stumbling, Lyric nearly fell over a green-clad body on the ground, as Sashala yanked her around it. “What happened?” Lyric gasped, as they fled into the trees. “The dead!”
“The dragons,” Sashala yelled over her shoulder.
“Where’s Kell?” Lyric asked, sudden panic surging through her. “Where’s —”
Kell ran at her from the left, intersecting with their path as he jumped around a fallen tree. He was breathing hard, his face and clothes dirty and covered in sweat and blood.
Lyric stopped abruptly and was almost yanked off her feet by Sashala who was still running.
The Sireni woman stopped, letting go of Lyric’s arm as she saw what had caught her attention.
Tears sprang into Lyric’s eyes, relief flooding into her, as Kell grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against the top of her head. Head against his chest, Lyric could hear his breath, fast and ragged, and the cadence of his heart beneath her ear.
“You’re alive,” Kell breathed.
“We’re far enough away now, I think,” Sashala said. “Your …dragon isn’t attacking anymore.”
Lyric pulled back from Kell, remaining in his arms, and looked back at the blue wyvern.
It was no longer glowing and had landed on a stump nearby, staring at Kell, unblinking. Blessedly it only seemed curious, if that was the right emotion.
“A … friend,” Lyric told it.
Kell made a surprised noise. “Is that a dragon?” he asked.
“It’s a wyvern,” Lyric said.
“Where did it come from? Is it … one of the Old Ones?” Kell asked. “Seems rather small …”
An amused sensation filled Lyric’s head, and she realized the wyvern had sent it.
“It’s protecting her,” Sashala said, “or thinks it is. Why is it attacking Runa and not us?”
Lyric frowned and studied the wyvern with a worried expression. “I don’t know. Why did you attack my sister?”
She’s corrupted.
“No, she’s not!” Lyric said.
“Is it … speaking to you?” Kell asked uncertainly.
“Yes,” Lyric said.
“What did it say?” Sashala asked. She stepped closer, eyeing the wyvern warily.
“It said Runa’s corrupted. I don’t understand.”
She’s dangerous.
“Not to me,” Lyric said.
“Did Laenadara do this?” Kell asked. “Some consequence of the ritual?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to ask her.” Lyric narrowed her eyes. What had happened with the ritual? The dragons had been ready to help, and then they’d changed. Was it something the priests had done? Or had someone else interfered?
“You can’t,” Sashala said.
Lyric blinked and looked at her, her anger faltering as confusion took over. “Why not?”
“The dragon, the red one, killed her,” Sashala said.
“Oh.” Numbly, Lyric glanced back towards the clearing, hidden by the trees. She could see smoke in the distance.
“What happened?” Kell asked. “You disappeared, and Laenadara and the other priests kept chanting. Then she sliced open her wrist, and there was blood everywhere. We tried to move forward, but the archers stopped us. I didn’t know where you were, I was yelling, Laenadara was screaming at the sky, and then the dragons came back. They ripped into the priests, killed some of the archers, set fire to the forest. They were enraged, wild. We didn’t know what to do, and then you just reappeared and —”
“Attacked each other,” Sashala said.
“Not us,” Lyric said, looking at the wyvern. “The wyverns. They must both think we’re dangerous to each other. I don’t understand.”
You may call me Azora, the wyvern said in her mind.
Lyric blinked. Azora?
“What did you see?” Kell asked. “When you disappeared? Were you with the Old Ones?”
“Yes,” Lyric said, looking back at him, “but they were human, became human. They talked to us.”
“It must not have gone well,” Sashala said.
“No, no it was,” Lyric said. “They were going to help us and cleanse the Taint, but then something happened. They said something was wrong, and then they became beasts, turned back into their drag
on forms.”
“The priests,” Sashala said, “whatever they did after you disappeared.”
“But why?” Lyric asked. “Why would they want the ritual to fail? It doesn’t make sense. The dragons turning savage, how does that help them? And the dragons attacked them and set fire to the forest.”
“Maybe they didn’t realize how dangerous the ritual was,” Kell said, his voice tight.
“Perhaps they wanted to control them, like the Butcher,” Sashala said, spitting on the ground.
“Did any of the priests survive?” Lyric asked. “We should question one who performed the ritual with Laenadara.”
Sashala glanced back towards the clearing. “I can go and see who is left. The dragons flew off, heading east, so it should be safe enough.” She eyed the wyvern and looked at Lyric. “You should wait here.”
“The dragons …” Lyric said. She glanced around them with a worried expression. “What do you think they’ll do?”
Kell’s arms tightened around her, and Lyric leaned against him. “Nothing good,” he said grimly.
30
Runa
Runa sat on the ground. Her wyvern, Raith, was sitting beside her and watching the tree line. She’d demanded to know why they’d attacked Lyric, but the damned creature kept repeating that her twin sister was compromised and dangerous. When pressed, they couldn’t tell her why. When Runa insisted Lyric was safe, and Raith had to trust her, the wyvern maintained it had to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from herself.
Eleden, pacing in front of her, scrubbed his hand through his hair and gave Runa a worried look out of the corner of his eye. He’d sent Laerdi and Teaeth to get Egan from the pit, worried the Ayanarans had abandoned him when the dragons attacked.
Before the dragons had flown east, they’d set fire to a swath of trees leading away from the clearing. From the smoke in the sky, the forest was currently burning northward in the direction of Runa’s father and the village. It should have been too wet for the dragon fire to advance, but it burned through the trees like they were nothing more than dried sticks.
Daughters of Fire & Sea Page 36
