An effective base that, I now noticed, was under attack.
“Warships coming from the southwest!” I shouted, pointing at the fleet heading straight for the narrow beach closest to our base. Zooming in with my goggles, I saw that the decks were absolutely packed with soldiers armed with muskets and swords. The ships themselves also bristled with cannons, and while the estate we were using as our base was too far from the shore to be hit directly, they would kill many of the Elantian soldiers gathered on the beach, waiting for the enemy to strike. Dragons circled the island, roaring in frustration—they didn’t dare get close for fear of being struck down by the Zallabarians’ deadly shrapnel cannons, specifically crafted to shred dragon wings.
“Where are you going?” I cried as Muza winged off to the east, speeding away from the island. One of the ships turned their cannons toward him, but he dodged the projectile without slowing.
“He is going to Tavarian,” Serpol told me. “Don’t worry about him. Let us do something about these ships!”
Serpol flapped his wings again, generating more magic dust. But instead of coating us, the dust swirled around, then solidified into a glowing barrier. Lessie reared back as a cannonball barreled toward us, only for the projectile to explode harmlessly against the shield.
“They cannot harm us,” Serpol said, tucking his wings in at his sides. “Let’s go!”
Lessie followed suit, and I held on for dear life as the two dragons dove toward the ships. There were at least forty vessels of varying sizes, a formidable armada. As we bombarded them with fireballs and shredded their sails, a few of the other dragons tried to join in, but Lessie and Serpol ordered them back. We couldn’t afford to lose these dragons, not after all the trouble we’d gone through to rescue them from the Zallabarians’ clutches.
We managed to disable ten of the ships before Serpol’s shield began to flicker. “We need to retreat,” he panted as a cannonball broke through. Lessie dodged left, and my breath froze in my lungs as the projectile whizzed right by my head. “My magic is nearly depleted—the shield won’t hold for much longer.”
“Dammit!” I surveyed the fleet with dismay as we climbed higher into the sky, out of range of the remaining ships. The ten we’d destroyed were useless now: their sails wrecked, the decks on fire, their cannons melted into slag. But there were still thirty more ships left, and though they’d temporarily pulled back, it was only a matter of time before they took advantage of our retreat. Was there anything we could do to stop them?
“Zara, look!” Lessie swung her head east, in the direction Muza had flown off to.
I looked in the same direction, and my stomach dropped at the sight of Muza flying toward us, with two dozen or so warships at his back. More enemies? I zoomed in with my goggles, and my heart jumped in my chest as I saw Tavarian aboard Muza’s back, his black hair whipping in the wind as they flew. I hadn’t seen him at first because his silver-scaled dragon-rider leathers made him blend in perfectly with Muza’s hide.
Lessie stiffened beneath me, and she and Serpol turned tail, racing away from the island.
“What are you doing?” I cried, clutching one of Lessie’s spikes. Shouldn’t we be helping them?
“Muza said that Tavarian is about to attack the fleet,” Lessie said as the wind screamed in my ears. “He told us to get out of the way as fast as we could!”
Glancing back, I saw that Tavarian and Muza were closing in fast, much faster than the ships behind them. Tavarian pulled something out of his bag, and my entire body went rigid as I recognized the magical horn we’d found on Polyba. The secret weapon a dragon rider had hidden here long ago, one capable of reducing mountains to rubble.
“Crap!” I clapped my hands over my ears as Tavarian blew the horn.
The sound that issued forth was horrific, a terrible blare that shook the air. Lessie and I had been rendered senseless by it the first time Tavarian had used it, and I half expected Muza to drop out of the sky. But the silver dragon remained steady, flapping his wings to maintain his position as Tavarian continued to blow the horn.
The effect was almost instantaneous. The ships at the front of the armada exploded, blood and flesh, splinters and shrapnel, flying into the ocean at deadly speeds. Tavarian blew the horn again and again, obliterating more ships, turning the sea a frothy, angry red as the pulverized soldiers bled out into the ocean to become fodder for sharks and sea monsters. I shuddered, a large part of me disgusted and horrified at the carnage.
And yet, I was glad to see that the bastards had gotten what they deserved.
Several beats of heavy silence followed as we all watched the remnants of the ships sink into the water. But then whoops went up from the soldiers on the shore, and the dragons who had been circling trumpeted, shooting streams of celebratory flame into the sky.
“That was…unexpected,” Serpol said, a little dazed as he stared down at the wreckage. “I’ve never seen such terrible magic before.”
Tavarian finally lowered the horn, looking both harried and satisfied at once. My heart swelled at the sight of him, and Lessie sped toward Muza, sensing my intentions. I leaped off her back as she passed over the bigger dragon, and Tavarian, alarmed, caught me in his lap.
“Zara!” His silvery eyes widened, his hard-planed face slack with shock. “You could have killed yourself! Do you have any idea how deadly Muza’s spikes are?”
“I knew you’d catch me.” Throwing my arms around his neck, I kissed him hard, pouring weeks of frustration and longing into the kiss. Tavarian crushed me against his chest, kissing me back, and my heart sang with joy as the taste and scent of him filled me, surrounded me, sweeping away my doubts and fears and replacing them with stormy passion. There was a part of me that wanted to drag him off to some hideaway, a cozy inlet or a dark cave, and make love to him until both our minds and bodies gave out through sheer exhaustion.
Instead, I pulled away, breathing hard.
Tavarian gripped my face in his long-fingered hands. “I love you,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine. His cheeks were flushed, his hair windswept, his eyes wild and blazing—completely different from the cool façade he presented to the world. This was a side of him that only I got to see, and I relished the moments when he dropped the mask and allowed me these precious glimpses of the real him.
“And I love you.” I rubbed noses with him, soaking in the warmth of his body. We might have sat there like that forever if Muza hadn’t craned his neck around to stare at us out of baleful eyes, huffing impatiently.
Tavarian chuckled. “Muza says that we should continue our reunion on the beach. He also says that he deserves a little more than a hello, too, since he flew all this way to see me.”
I smiled. “Muza is right,” I said, patting his hide. I called for Lessie, and she drew up alongside us so I could climb onto her back and let Muza and Tavarian land separately. The other dragon riders would be shocked to see that Tavarian had a dragon, since they’d long believed Muza was dead.
But Tavarian did not go back to the island. Instead, he returned to the ships that he and Muza had been leading here.
“Warosian warships,” Lessie explained as I used my goggles to zoom in on their flags. “Muza says that Tavarian secured the alliance, and they loaned him these ships to help combat the invasion. Still, if not for us, he’d never have gotten here fast enough to use the horn in time.”
Three dragons winged their way toward us. As they came closer, I saw it was Ykos, Kiethara, and Kadryn, with Rhia, Halldor, and Jallis astride their backs. “Zara!” the three of them cried at once, drawing up alongside Lessie to hover.
“Hey, guys!” I grinned at all three of them. “Surprised to see me?”
Rhia rolled her eyes, and I imagined she would have thrown something at me if there’d been a non-deadly object at hand. “We thought you were dead!” she shouted over the wind.
“Who’s the new dragon?” Jallis asked, nodding at Serpol who was hovering nearby.
&nb
sp; “Muza’s friend Serpol,” I shouted back. “The two of them arrived just in the nick of time to rescue us. They helped us get away from the island and back here.”
“Muza is Tavarian’s dragon?” Halldor asked. “I thought Tavarian didn’t have a dragon anymore!”
“And who does Serpol belong to?” Rhia wanted to know.
Serpol snorted at that, and I hid a wince. "That's a long story we don't have time for." We'd already agreed that Serpol wouldn't speak directly to any human other than Tavarian and me—there was no way to explain that without admitting the existence of the free dragons. "We need to search the wreckage, just in case."
The four of us split up, joining the other dragon riders who were already circling the destroyed armada. As I’d suspected, there was nothing left but bits of floating wood and body parts. The ruined heads bobbing in the water were the worst, but there were only a few—I imagined most of them had exploded.
“At least they died quickly,” Lessie pointed out. “Which is more than they would have given us if they’d made it to shore.”
Leaving the others to pick through the remains, I returned to Tavarian, who was on deck on one of the Warosian warships floating just offshore, speaking to the captain while Muza waited on the beach. Lessie dropped me next to Tavarian, and went to wait with Muza while Tavarian brought me up to speed.
“Zara.” Tavarian inclined his head to me. “This is Admiral Petro Messei, the King of Warosia’s cousin. Admiral, this is Commandant Zara Kenrook, leader of the Elantian Patriots.”
I blinked—I hadn’t realized we’d chosen a name for ourselves—but quickly masked my surprise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Admiral.” I stuck out my hand.
The admiral shook it, his blue eyes twinkling. “I have heard much about the fiery redhead who stole a fleet of dragons right beneath Autocrator Reichstein’s nose,” he said, and I blushed. He was a handsome man with curling blond hair and tanned skin, and he cut a fine figure in his naval uniform. “The pleasure is all mine.”
"Indeed." Tavarian's expression was bland as dry toast, but there was a subtle undercurrent of warning in his tone that made the admiral drop my hand and take a step back. "The Admiral is here as an ambassador, and also to provide naval support for our war efforts."
“Yes, though I half-wonder if you’ll even need us, after that impressive display back there.” The admiral tried for levity, but his gaze flicked to the carnage still floating in the water, and his swarthy complexion paled. “You understand I need assurances that you will never use that terrible weapon against us.”
“Of course not,” Tavarian said, his tone turning solicitous. “You were there when I signed the alliance treaty. So long as neither side breaks the terms, you and I have nothing to fear from each other.”
Tavarian and I invited the admiral to join us for our next council meeting, then returned to the island on Muza’s back.
“Commandant! Lord Tavarian!” Captain Ragorin grinned as he strode toward us. “You’re both a sight for sore eyes. Arrived just in the nick of time!”
"We sure did. How is everything, Captain?" I asked as I jumped off Muza's back. Six-foot-tall with a trim black beard and keen blue eyes, he was the leader of the Elantian soldiers that had escaped a Zallabarian POW camp and joined us dragon riders on Polyba. While at first we'd groaned at the idea of taking on several hundred more mouths to feed, the soldiers proved more than worth their keep—they'd ruthlessly organized our base, turning the crumbling mansion we'd been hiding out in into a real, defensible fort. Not to mention the additional forces gave the locals a healthy respect for us.
“Fine, now that we’ve got a fleet to defend us, and that terrifying horn.” He eyed Tavarian. “I gather you found someone to teach you how to use it in Warosia?”
Tavarian nodded. "There is a mage scholar in the capital who specializes in ancient, mythical weapons. She taught me the secret to using it."
“Is it something I can be taught as well?” Ragorin asked.
“I’m afraid not. Only mages can use it.”
Ragorin shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re a mage,” he muttered. Tavarian had kept that secret under wraps for a long time—a mage dragon-rider was unheard of—but after he’d started using his magic to heal wounded soldiers, there was no hiding it anymore. Ragorin glanced at Muza, who was waiting nearby. “I guess you’re going to tell me that your dragon hasn’t actually been dead all this time?”
Tavarian laughed. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” Ragorin turned to me, wary now. “Are you at least going to tell me that you and Lessie were successful?”
“We were.” I smiled. “The dragon heart pieces have been destroyed, and with them, any chance of the dragon god completing his resurrection.”
“Thank the skies.” Ragorin scrubbed a hand across his jaw, looking relieved. “Now I can sleep at night again.”
The dragon riders finished searching the wreckage, and, with nothing else left to do on the beach, we returned to camp. Tavarian was quickly swept away by the soldiers, who laughed and cheered as they carried him back to base on their shoulders, ignoring his half-hearted protests. The man clearly wasn’t used to such public admiration, not when he worked so hard to keep others at a distance, but he’d just saved everyone’s asses, so he was just going to have to deal with it.
“You know,” Halldor grumbled under his breath as we walked a little ways behind the crowd, “you should be up there with him. If not for you, we’d all be dead.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t do this for the praise, and besides, no one really needs to know just how close we were to annihilation.” Let the soldiers have their celebration. With more battles looming on the horizon, I knew there were dark times ahead. We needed to take advantage of all the happy moments we could get.
5
When we arrived back at the estate, I was pleasantly surprised to see everything was even more organized than before. Over a thousand people were staying at the base now, with more Elantian refugees arriving every day. That meant more mouths to feed, but many of them were skilled laborers—carpenters, blacksmiths, seamstresses, cooks, farmers, and more. Captain Ragorin had wasted no time putting them all to work, and with new supplies coming in via airship on a regular basis, we were fast turning this formerly barren island into a real civilization.
“This is very impressive, Captain,” I said as we toured the estate. “How are the natives taking all this…change?”
“They’ve come around,” Captain Ragorin said with a grin. “Now that they’ve realized we’re not the enemy, the clans have set up trade agreements. We practically have an unending supply of goat’s milk and cheese now.”
“That’s great.” But I knew that the natives didn’t have enough goats to keep us all fed, not with more and more Elantians arriving daily. We were going to have to start importing livestock, and grain to plant. But would there be enough water? Though the island was big, it certainly wasn’t large enough to sustain the entire country of Elantia. We’d have to cut off new arrivals at some point, which I wasn’t looking forward to at all.
“We could expand to other islands,” Lessie suggested. “I know there are others not far from here that are uninhabited as well.”
“We could,” I agreed, “but we didn’t come back here to colonize these outlying islands. We came back to win this war and take back our country. That’s the real solution, and we can’t lose sight of that.”
Tavarian and I spent the rest of the day with the dragon riders and soldiers, getting caught up to speed. We also made sure the Warosian admiral and his crew had everything they needed. They’d decided to stay on their ships, but we gave them plenty of food and wine to supplement their rations. Though they’d proven unnecessary during this most recent battle, they made themselves useful now by patrolling the nearby waters for any more Zallabarian ships, and I knew we would need them in the future. Ta
varian couldn’t be everywhere at once with that horn, after all, and he was the only one who could use it.
By the time we stumbled back to our tower room, the two of us were well and truly exhausted. “I feel like I could sleep for a week,” I groaned as I flopped onto the bed. “Can I sleep for a week?” I asked jokingly. “I think I deserve it.”
Tavarian smiled as he removed his dragon rider armor, stripping down to the tight trousers and shirt he wore beneath. “You do deserve it,” he agreed as he pulled off the shirt, too. My blood stirred at the sight of his bare torso, lean but well-muscled, with a light dusting of black hair that disappeared in a suggestive trail down the waistband of his trousers. His full mouth curled up at the corners as he noticed the look in my eyes, and he moved toward the bed. “But surely sleep isn’t the only thing on your mind, is it?”
“Not anymore,” I agreed as Tavarian pushed a curl away from my face. He kissed me, long and deep, then proceeded to slowly strip my armor off, kissing and nipping at each inch of skin he revealed. My exhaustion lifted, replaced by burning desire, and we made love fiercely, reveling in our shared passion, in the fact that we were both alive and well and together once again.
Well and truly spent, we fell asleep almost instantly, and for once, I didn’t dream at all.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but I woke at the sensation of fingers skimming along my side. Opening my eyes, I saw that I was lying on my side, facing Tavarian. The moonlight filtering in through the window limned his perfect face, which was soft with emotion. There was an almost dreamy quality to those silver eyes, and for a long moment we simply lay there, lost in each other’s eyes.
Eventually, I reached out, tracing the keen edge of his cheekbone. "I saw you, when I visited the Underworld," I whispered. "It was just an illusion—part of a test—but it was so real that for a time I was afraid something had gone wrong, that the Warosians had killed you. I would have been devastated if Muza hadn't come to rescue us afterward."
Secret of the Dragon Page 4
