Secret of the Dragon

by Jessica Drake

  Finished dressing, I stuffed all the belongings I could manage into my pack, then slung it around my shoulders and climbed out the window and onto the mansion roof. I regretted having to leave so many of our things behind, but I couldn’t haul all of it up to the roof and onto Serpol’s back.

  “Zara,” Serpol said, and I heard the distant beat of his wings. A powerful gust of wind nearly knocked me off the roof as he landed. “I’m on the east side.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out,” I told him, walking in the direction the wind had come from. I smacked straight into his hide, but he caught me with his foreleg before I could topple over. Chills raced along my arms as I slid a hand along his scales—it was strange, knowing the dragon was there, feeling his hot breath on my skin, but not being able to see him.

  “I think I’m gonna need a little help getting on,” I told him. “I’ve never mounted an invisible dragon before.”

  Serpol chuckled, and flapped his wings ever so slightly. The invisibility spell flickered for just a moment, allowing to see his body so I could find the best spot to climb on. He shot into the sky the moment I was situated, high above the silvery clouds where Lessie and Muza were waiting.

  “Thank the skies you’re all right,” Lessie said, nuzzling me gently. I jumped on her back, and a wave of relief swept through me—it felt like we’d been apart for ages, even though it was only a day or two.

  “Does Muza know where Tavarian is?” I asked as I stroked the side of Lessie’s neck. As a bonded pair, the two of them could sense the other’s location, just as Lessie and I could.

  Lessie nodded. “He says he can feel Tavarian heading east. He is alive, but unconscious, so that means someone is transporting him.”

  “Really?” My stomach twisted itself into knots of dread. It had been over an hour since Tavarian had been taken away—he should be locked up in prison right now, not on the move. “How far away is he?”

  “Not very,” Lessie said after a few seconds. “We should be able to catch up with him if we leave now.”

  The three of us headed east, staying above the clouds so as not to be spotted. “We’re only a few hundred yards from Tavarian’s position,” Lessie said as we slowed.

  The clouds had thinned, so I peered through them using my goggles to see what was below. “We’re above Briarwood Forest,” I said. “You think he’s down there somewhere?”

  “Actually, Muza says Tavarian is up here, in the air,” Serpol said. “He must be in an airship.”

  Serpol cast invisibility on us, and we ducked below the cloud cover to check it out. Sure enough, a huge airship hovered above the forest. It was painted entirely black, even the balloon, so that it blended seamlessly with the night sky. If not for the flame powering the balloon, we wouldn’t have seen it at all.

  “What do you want us to do, Zara?” Lessie asked. “Should we bring down the airship before you try to board it?”

  “No. The chance that Tavarian might get hurt or killed is too high. Besides, someone is bound to notice, and I don’t need a patrol sending more ships to blow us to pieces with those shrapnel cannons.” I shuddered, remembering the devastating damage those horrible weapons did to dragon wings and hide. “I need to get on board while it’s still in the air and sneak Tavarian off. Serpol, do you know any spells that we can use to incapacitate everyone on board?”

  “I know a sleeping spell,” Serpol said. “If we get closer, I should be able to put those aboard into a slumber.”

  “But won’t that affect Tavarian too?” Lessie demanded. “You can’t very well lug his body off the ship!”

  “I’m banking on the fact that he’s already unconscious to make him immune from the spell’s effects,” I said. “Or will the magic just make him fall into a deeper sleep?” I asked Serpol.

  “In theory it should pass over him,” Serpol said, “but I do not know for sure. You must be prepared for the worst.”

  Decided, the three of us took off toward the ship, counting on the night to give us cover. The moon was only a slim crescent in the sky, which meant we would be less visible than usual. The only real risk was slamming into the ship, since it too was barely visible in the night.

  When we were about fifty yards away, the dragons stopped, and Serpol flapped his wings harder, sending magical dust floating toward the ship. Several minutes passed, and then he said, “They should be asleep now.”

  “Okay. Here goes nothing.” Lessie swooped directly over the ship, and I dropped into the crow’s nest, just below the balloon and the searing heat of its pilot light. Slipping on my goggles, I surveyed the decks, looking for any sign of patrols, and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a dozen or so men slumped onto the ground in various positions of slumber. I’d been worried that Salcombe might have come aboard and brought that infernal artifact with him, but there was nothing to fear. For once, I seemed to be ahead of him.

  Satisfied that the danger was minimal, I climbed down the mast and wandered around the ship, looking for Tavarian. The aircraft was luxurious, expensively furnished and bedecked with Zallabarian flags and coat of arms in every spot. Certainly no mere prison ship, and I guessed that this was the autocrator’s personal conveyance. He’d probably landed here, then taken a smaller aircraft to Dragon’s Table. But where was he now? Was he planning to come back to the ship, or was he spending the night at the King’s Palace?

  “Lessie,” I asked as I moved down the main hallway on the first level, “Can Muza help guide me in the right direction? This ship is enormous—it could take me all night to find Tavarian.”

  “Yes,” Lessie said after a protracted silence. “He will fly around the ship and help pinpoint Tavarian’s location.”

  I spent the next fifteen minutes following directions from Muza and Lessie as they tried to lead me to Tavarian. In theory it was a good idea—Muza could sense where Tavarian was in the ship, and Lessie could see where I was thanks to our bond—but Muza couldn’t see the internal obstacles, and I took several wrong turns before finally getting on the right track.

  “Okay, make a left here,” Lessie was saying, “and then a right at the—”

  Her voice cut off abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in the bond. Panic froze my lungs, and I groped frantically for the bond, trying to reestablish the connection. “Lessie!” I screamed, both in my head and aloud. My palms were clammy, my heart hammering in my chest—it wasn’t just that I couldn’t hear her, I couldn’t sense her at all. Which was impossible, because we were bound together. Even when we were too far away to talk via the mental link, I’d always been able to feel her.

  But the place inside my head where Lessie’s consciousness rested was terrifyingly empty. As if someone had carved out her soul and left a gaping hole.

  "Serpol, what's happening?" I cried, hoping he would be able to hear me even though I was inside the ship. We didn't have a bond like Lessie and me, but I was hoping he was tuned into my thoughts. "Why isn't Lessie answering?"

  “Lessie and Muza flew off without warning,” Serpol said, sounding troubled. “They are headed back to Zuar City.”

  “What?” I braced a hand against the wall, my head spinning. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, but I expect they are being compelled somehow,” Serpol said in a low growl. “I felt a sudden urge to head in the same direction, but I fought off the manipulation. I fear this is the dragon god’s work, Zara.”

  “No.” Cold horror spiraled inside me. “No, it can’t be him.” A vision popped into my head, one of the many nightmares the dragon god had tortured me with during my journey to Derynnis’s Forge, of Lessie turning on me, her mind bent to the dragon god’s will. I couldn’t bear the thought of that coming to pass, of the world eater pitting the two of us against each other after we’d fought so hard to defeat him. “Please, there has to be another explanation.”

  “We will find out more,” Serpol promised, “but you need to get Tavarian off that ship first. Hurry!”

  Pushing off the wall,
I forced myself to keep running, compartmentalizing my terror for Lessie by shoving it into a mental lockbox so I could deal with it later. I turned left, then a right at the end of the hall and found myself standing in front of a cabin with a special metal hull and three locks in the door. I used my magical lockpick to get the locks open, then burst inside to find a bruised and bloody Tavarian lying unconscious on a cot.

  “Dragon’s balls,” I swore as I pushed aside a lock of matted black hair. His face was pale and streaked with blood, and there was a nasty wound on his scalp that looked like it needed stitches. To my dismay, he didn’t react at all when I tried to shake him awake, which told me he’d either been injured very badly, or Serpol had been wrong about the spell only affecting those who were already awake.

  Swearing under my breath, I collapsed the cot, then used it as a makeshift litter to drag him through the hallways and onto the upper deck. Along the way I found some twine, and when I made it to the railing I lashed Tavarian’s body to mine.

  “Are you there?” I called to Serpol.

  “In position,” he confirmed.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath, then jumped off the side of the ship. I landed on Serpol’s back ten feet below, miraculously missing the spikes, and grunted loudly as Tavarian’s weight slammed me into his hide.

  Serpol immediately took off, speeding away from the airship. Every fiber of my being screamed to seek out Lessie, but we needed to assess Tavarian’s injuries so we landed several miles away, still in the same forest. It took Serpol nearly thirty minutes to heal him— the terrible-looking head wound was not life-threatening, but a broken rib had perforated his liver, and he was suffering from severe internal bleeding.

  “There,” Serpol finally said, slumping in exhaustion. Between the invisibility spell, the sleeping spell, and now this healing, he’d used a lot of his energy. “He will be fine, once the sleeping spell wears off.”

  “Great.” I stroked the side of Tavarian’s face. The purple bruise on his cheek had not gone away, but he was sleeping more peacefully now, his breathing deep and even, the lines of strain gone from his face. “How long until he wakes up?”

  “Another thirty minutes, at least.” Serpol lumbered to his feet. “I smell deer nearby, so I will go hunt to replenish my energy. Watch over him while I’m gone.”

  Alone in the clearing, it only took a few minutes for the gnawing ache in my chest to make itself known again. “Lessie?” I cried through the bond, calling to her repeatedly, but an answer never came. Tears slid down my cheeks, and I trembled at the possibility that I might never hear from her again. Serpol had to be wrong about the dragon god—there must be some other explanation—

  "Muza!" Tavarian shot upright, nearly banging his forehead against my chin. He panted, clutching at his chest as if he felt pain there. "I can't feel Muza anymore." He whipped his head around, met my gaze with wild, panicked eyes that made my own anxiety skyrocket. I'd never seen Tavarian look so helpless—not ever. “What is going on, Zara?”

  “I—” the tears came faster, and I choked on the ball of grief in my throat. “I can’t feel Lessie either,” I whispered, my vision blurring. “I think they’re gone.”

  “Gone?” Tavarian echoed in disbelief. “They can’t be gone. We’re still alive, aren’t we? Dragon’s balls, this must be some terrible dream I’m having.” He scraped a hand through his hair, sounding a little dazed. “The last thing I remember is getting kicked repeatedly while on the ground. What happened to me?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear it enough to focus on Tavarian’s words. “You were taken prisoner by the autocrator’s soldiers,” I said. “Salcombe was at the reception, with some kind of artifact that nullifies magic. Our disguises were exposed. I managed to make it to the bathroom before anyone saw the change, but you were caught immediately. We found you all banged up on the autocrator’s airship, but Serpol healed you and brought you here.”

  “Serpol?” Tavarian looked around. “Where is he? Can we still communicate with him, at least?”

  “Yes. He’s out hunting to replenish his strength.”

  I called to Serpol to let him know Tavarian was awake. He returned promptly, a huge deer in his maw, and ate it in the clearing while we talked over our options. “You really believe this is the dragon god’s doing?” Tavarian demanded.

  Serpol nodded as he wolfed down an entire deer leg. “I felt his call at the same time Lessie and Muza did,” he said as he crunched down on bone and sinew. I suppressed a shudder—even though I was a meat eater itself, it was always a little disturbing watching a dragon eat because of how brutal it was. They ate the entire animal, pelt, hooves and all, and the bones never seemed to get stuck in their throats or cause any digestive issues. “They were unable to resist, and I only managed to do so thanks to the shielding spell my mother and I have been working on for this. Hopefully the other free dragons have been able to resist, too.” He swallowed, then hurriedly ate the other haunch. “I heard noises coming from the ship as I flew back here, so I assume Salcombe’s artifact must be within range. That is why your man woke up early,” Serpol explained to me.

  “Dammit,” I swore under my breath. The three of us fell silent, and we became aware of other noises—the clop of horse hooves, the rumble of carriages, the distant shouts of human conversation.

  “That could be the autocrator himself, returning to the ship,” Tavarian hissed under his breath. He struggled to his feet and stumbled over to Serpol, who had a saddlebag awkwardly tied to his side. Muza and Lessie had most of our supplies, of course, but Serpol had carried some to lighten the load. “I need a weapon,” he muttered, rummaging through the bag.

  “Tavarian.” I took him by the arm and gently turned him to face me. “You’re in no condition to be wielding any kind of weapon. You look like you’re going to collapse.”

  Tavarian wiped at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I don’t care. We need to kill him.” But his legs wobbled, and he fell against Serpol’s side.

  “You’re not going to kill him if you fall straight into someone’s sword,” I scolded, slinging his arm around my shoulders. I helped him over to one of the trees so he could sit, propped up by the sturdy trunk. “Serpol and I will take care of them. You stay here.”

  I hopped onto Serpol’s back before Tavarian could protest, and the two of us took off, heading for the airship again. It felt strange to be riding into battle with another dragon, to not have the comfort and familiarity of the bond I shared with Lessie, but I forced myself to focus rather than dwell on what I’d lost. There would be time enough to figure out what happened to the bond after we’d taken care of the danger.

  “Salcombe is definitely in the area,” Serpol confirmed as we flew. “I’ve been unable to cast any sort of spell.”

  “As long as your fire still works, we won’t need any spell,” I said.

  We were a half-mile from the airship when we spotted a caravan of carriages surrounded by uniformed horseback riders heading up the path. Slipping on my goggles, I zoomed in to see Salcombe riding next to one of the carriages and speaking to someone through the window. Was it the autocrator? And why wasn’t he inside with everyone else?

  “This is our chance,” I told Serpol. “They’re exposed now!”

  Serpol needed no encouragement. He tucked his wings and dove at full speed toward the caravan, maw opening wide. Even from his back, I could feel the heat building in Serpol’s chest, and I grinned fiercely as the soldiers cried out in panic.

  But Salcombe did not panic. Instead he met my gaze with an indolent stare. That was the moment I should have warned Serpol something was wrong, but it was too late. The huge dragon crashed against an invisible barrier, bouncing backward and crashing into the ground. I jumped off his back before I could get crushed beneath his bulk, tucking and rolling, and sprang into a crouch just a dozen yards away from the caravan.

  “So you are still in the game, Zara,” Salcombe said, his thin lips curling into a smirk. He l
ooked as old as ever, like a shriveled up piece of paper ready to blow away, but he sat his horse firmly, and I knew he was stronger than he appeared even if the dragon god had taken away his youthful looks.

  “Like I would give up,” I spat, drawing my dragon blade. The two blades elongated and I hefted the weapon over my shoulder like a javelin. Would Salcombe’s barrier repel it, like it had done with Serpol? Was it worth the risk of possibly losing my most precious weapon?

  Salcombe snorted. “No. You are too stupid for that. You could have joined me, but instead you choose to stand on the wrong side of history. It is a shame that none of my teachings seem to have penetrated that thick skull of yours.”

  “You mean you’re disappointed that I didn’t turn out to be a cold, evil, selfish bastard like you?”

  Serpol chose that moment to lumber to his feet, and the soldiers went still, their expressions wide and fearful. They cowered when the dragon spread his wings wide and let out a thunderous roar that nearly ruptured my eardrums. I clapped my hands over my ears and hurriedly backed up, out of the line of fire in case Serpol decided to attack again.

  “What is happening, Salcombe?” the autocrator yelled, poking his head through the window of his carriage. He tried to look angry, but behind his glare I could tell he was just as frightened as the others. “Where did this dragon come from?”

  “No need to worry, Your Excellency,” Salcombe said, barely sparing the autocrator a glance. His eyes glittered with fascination as he stared up at Serpol, not even remotely afraid of the dragon. “I had always suspected there were some dragons who had escaped the Dragon War, but I never did find their location. Still, they should be as susceptible to Zakyiar’s call as all the others were.”