“Fine, thanks.” They were being oddly formal with each other. Keriya knew Fletcher didn’t like Thorion, and that had widened the gulf between them. “What about you?”
“Can’t complain,” she said, in a tone that suggested she would have loved to complain.
“Worrying about Necrovar?”
“Sort of.” She fidgeted with the ends of her sleeves, not meeting his eye. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think we should bring Thorion to Noryk. He shouldn’t be fighting.”
“Yes he should,” said Fletcher. “Unless you want the Shadow to take over the world and do all that terrible stuff Empress Aldelphia talked about.”
“I know he should fight, but I can’t—I don’t want to ask that of him. He’s too young, and it’s too dangerous. What if he gets hurt?”
“Would you put the life of one dragon above the lives of every Allentrian?” Fletcher squinted at Keriya, trying to figure her out. That had been a lot easier to do in Aeria, when they’d been young and the world had been simple.
“Tell me, why would you choose them over Thorion? Think about Cezon and Blackwater, the Imperials, the empress, the Aerians. Why should I force Thorion to fight on their behalf?”
Fletcher sighed. “I understand why you’d think that way. I mean, what have the Aerians done for us, right?”
His attempt at levity brought a tremulous smile to Keriya’s face.
“But this isn’t just your quest anymore,” he continued gently. “We’re all invested in this. It’s my quest, too, and I care about doing the right thing. Because if I was in Aeria or Noryk or wherever, and I knew there was someone who could save the world, I’d want them looking out for me.”
“But Thorion doesn’t owe them anything.”
For a moment, Fletcher’s jaw hung open. Struggling to find the right words, he said, “If that’s how you feel, why bother with Shivnath’s quest at all?”
She frowned. “Hold on. This isn’t about me—”
“You’re right,” he interrupted, “it isn’t about you. It’s bigger than you, and I don’t think you understand that. Shivnath said you were going to be a hero, so you’ve gotten this idea that you’re going to fight Necrovar, and you’re stuck on it for the wrong reasons.”
“What does it matter who’s saving them, or why it’s done?”
“Clearly it doesn’t matter to you, and I guess it doesn’t matter to them, as long as they get saved,” Fletcher conceded in a dark voice. “But I think it matters to Thorion. If he’s going to fight, he should understand why he’s fighting.”
“He shouldn’t fight at all. He shouldn’t be involved in this. That’s my point,” she declared, stalking away.
Scowling, Fletcher started after her, but a bronze head popped out of the reeds a few heights ahead, eyes wide and ears quivering. Thorion snaked out of the brush to join Keriya. He chirruped a question and Keriya responded, placing a protective hand on his head.
Fletcher paused, letting them go. A small pang echoed in his chest. For as long as he could remember, it had been him and Keriya against the world. She was the only family he had left—and, if he were truly honest, the only family who’d ever cared about him.
But now she had Thorion, and the closer she grew with the dragon, the more obsolete Fletcher felt. How did he fit into this new, complicated world? What part could he possibly play in a war of this magnitude?
I’ll cross that mountain when the time comes, he thought, squaring his shoulders and setting off, wending his way between twin sparkling pools of water where frogs sunned themselves on lily pads. Until then, I’ll do the best I can with what I’ve got.
When they stopped to rest that night, Effrax made a merry fire and performed some magic tricks.
“This is for you, Lord Thorion.” He waved his hands, and a web of conjured flames spread from his fingertips to form a fiery dragon. “Your name shall live in legends long after the rest of us have turned to dust. You shall restore honor and glory to the Fironem. You will lead us into a new and better age.”
Fletcher applauded the show, but he was the only one. Roxanne wore a stony expression and Keriya was staring into space with a lost expression. Thorion lay calm and still with his head resting in Keriya’s lap, but his wide eyes followed the burning dragon’s every move as it circled overhead.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Fletcher thought he caught a glowing glint in the drackling’s gaze—a glint that had nothing to do with the firemagic.
When at last they doused the campfire, Fletcher had trouble sleeping. He tossed and turned fitfully and woke twice from night terrors.
In one dream he was running from the Elders. Their angry shouts grew louder and louder, until Fletcher realized the shouts were real.
He roused himself and rubbed a hand over his face, blinking. The golden rays of dawn were creeping across the fen. Mist spiraled from the damp ground. Waterbirds floated through the sky, singing to one another.
And Roxanne and Effrax were locked in battle with three Imperial Guards.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“An ounce of blood is worth more than a pound of friendship.”
~ Moorfainian Proverb
“Keriya, wake up!”
Groaning, Keriya opened her eyes. Fletcher crouched next to her, shaking her shoulder. Through a patch of reeds, she saw Roxanne and Effrax wielding against three gray-clad Imperials.
“Shosu, get behind ‘em,” cried one of the guards.
Keriya’s senses sharpened. She recognized that man—it was Officer Blackwater, the degenerate who’d been helping Cezon.
“No names!” snapped the tallest of the three. His dark hair was tied back to reveal narrow blue eyes and a bitter mouth. Given how Blackwater flinched, it was clear he was the leader.
“What’s happening?” whispered Keriya.
“I don’t know,” said Fletcher, pulling on her arm. “I woke up in the middle of this, Thorion is missing, and—”
“What?!” Panic flared within her. Thorion had probably—wisely—fled as soon as he’d perceived a threat.
Struck by inspiration, she worked on forming a word in her mind and broadcasting it. Pain tickled the center of her brain as she attempted to reach him telepathically.
She was sure it hadn’t worked until a faint answering thought drifted back to her. Thorion was too far away to hear clearly, but at least she knew he was safe. She wanted to say more, but her head was already throbbing with the effort of sending out the thought.
“Let’s find him,” she whispered to Fletcher.
“What about them?” He nodded to Roxanne and Effrax. “They’re fighting because you can’t!”
His words ripped off a scab on a wound that had barely begun to heal. She had come far since Aeria, but there was no denying she’d be hopelessly outmatched in a violent, fast-paced magic fight. Keriya had no intention of abandoning Roxanne and Effrax; it was just that she could help more by ensuring Thorion’s safety.
Before she had a chance to explain this, a cry sliced at her ears. Shosu had gained the upper hand against Roxanne. The burly guard bound her with water that he quickly wielded into ice. Blackwater pulled a tiny dagger from his robes and plunged it deep into her side.
All of Roxanne’s spells unraveled. The earth she was wielding crumbled to pieces. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed among the reeds.
Keriya lay on the ground in silence. Numbness spread through her, seeping outwards from her heart until it engulfed her in an icy, dizzy haze.
Her brain disengaged from her body. She felt herself rise on trembling legs, though she had no plan of action. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Roxanne’s prone form.
Fletcher, his face ashen, stood beside her. He ran forward and wielded, manipulating a sm
all chunk of dirt at Blackwater. The guard dodged his misshapen missile and produced another dagger. He grabbed Fletcher and stabbed him in the chest.
“No!” Keriya cried, reaching out in vain as Fletcher slumped to the ground.
This can’t be happening. It can’t end like this!
She and Fletcher had protected each other, gone on adventures, grown up together . . . yet she had been so distant with him these past few weeks, angry for reasons that hardly mattered.
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. All she could do was stand there, struggling to breathe, trying to hold on to sanity. Without magic, she could do nothing to avenge his death.
Then someone did scream. A tortured howl filled the air, a howl that embodied the tempest of fiery fury and icy anguish churning within her. Keriya wrenched her gaze from Fletcher to see whence it came. The sight that met her eyes was, in a way, more terrible to behold.
Thorion was galloping toward the guards, wings outstretched so that he did not so much run as glide across the ground. Fury was etched onto his face, distorting his features into a mask of hatred.
He slammed into Shosu. The burly guard crumpled beneath the dragon’s weight. Bunching his hindquarters, Thorion whirled and sprang for Blackwater. Blackwater shrieked in terror and wielded a steaming jet of water that hit Thorion head-on. The drackling growled and vanished into the marsh vegetation.
Effrax, chest heaving and face shining with sweat, looked to see what had become of the dragon.
“Effrax, watch out!” Keriya cried, lurching toward him. The tall officer had raised his hand against the Fironian, brandishing another dagger.
Before Keriya or Effrax could do anything, Thorion re-emerged with a bloodcurdling cry. He burst from a clump of reeds, talons outstretched, lunging for the officer’s throat. The man raised his arms to shield himself, dagger in hand. Thorion collided with him and they went down, tumbling head over tail into an algae-infested pool. They landed with a splash, and then everything was still.
“Oy—Doru, you alright?” Blackwater asked. Keriya glanced back and saw Effrax sagging in Blackwater’s arms, a dagger lodged in his neck.
A pang of realization struck her, as deep and distant as the tolling of a midnight bell. She couldn’t process it because of the emptiness that was suddenly whispering through her body.
She was alone.
Blackwater dumped Effrax on the ground and approached the tangle of limbs that was Thorion and Doru. He kicked at them, but neither one moved.
“Thorion?” Keriya wrenched herself out of her horrified stupefaction and staggered toward the drackling. She saw movement, and a small trickle of relief broke through the glacier of despair growing inside her.
But it was not Thorion who stirred. Doru groaned and shoved the dragon off him. Keriya froze in her tracks, watching as the bronze-scaled body slid limply into the water. Doru stood on shaky legs, his uniform stained black and slime-green from the mud and algae.
“We got him,” he gasped.
“Can’t hardly believe it,” said Blackwater, kicking at Thorion again.
“Don’t touch him,” Keriya spat, her voice cracking.
Doru looked up sharply. “Why haven’t you dealt with her?” he demanded of Blackwater. Blackwater remembered himself with a jump and pulled another dagger from his robes. Somewhere in the back of her head, Keriya wondered how such a tiny blade could be so deadly.
“Won’t hurt a bit, wench,” he said, advancing on her.
Keriya stooped and grabbed a rock next to her foot. She hurled it at Blackwater. It caught him in the thigh and he yelped in pain.
“Ow! Whatsa matter with you, you tronkin’ blood-burned shifter?”
“You killed my friends!” More tears were hazing her vision now. She was spiraling into a dark abyss.
“They’re not dead,” Doru wheezed. “We wouldn’t kill the dragon. We still need it.”
“What?” Keriya squinted at Thorion and saw his chest slowly rise and fall. She glanced around—first to Fletcher, then to Roxanne and Effrax—and noticed faint signs of life in each of them.
“Thank you, Shivnath,” she whispered, covering her face with shaking hands.
Doru produced another dagger from an inside pocket of his robe. “Darts dipped in evasdrin poison. If this gets in your blood, you can’t use your magic. It’s powerful enough to knock you out like that.” He snapped his fingers in emphasis.
Before she could respond, heavy hands latched onto her from behind. Shosu had regained consciousness and snuck up on her. Keriya kicked and screamed, but her struggles were useless against the man, who was twice her size.
“Wait—don’t waste that on me,” she said, squirming away from Blackwater and his evasdrin dart. “It’s for people with magic, and I don’t have magic. Why do you think I haven’t wielded against you?”
Blackwater paused, tapping his chin and frowning in thought. Now that she’d said it aloud, Keriya asked herself the same question. This was a moment when Shivnath’s powers would be useful, yet she remained an empty husk.
“Everyone has magic,” Doru scoffed. “I know what you are, rheenar. Your kind almost destroyed the world once, and I will die before I see you ruin Selaras again.”
He nodded to Blackwater, who drove the dart deep into her shoulder. A burning sensation rippled from the impact, followed by an icy numbness. Her heart was on fire. It was thudding too slowly, every beat more agonizing than the last. She was falling, spiraling into an abyss . . .
Darkness collapsed around her, and she was gone.
A icy drizzle brought Keriya back to consciousness. She’d been tossed onto the bed of a small wooden cart. Her wrists were tied with a coarse rope. Her body ached and there was a particularly sharp pain in her upper arm. She winced and looked at the dart—it had torn a hole in her dress, and her skin was green and swollen around the wound.
“Look who’s up.” Shosu leaned into view, leering at her. A sluggish surge of heat bubbled through Keriya. She kicked at him and missed.
“If you’re well enough to kick, you’re well enough to walk.” Doru appeared next to his subordinate. He grabbed Keriya and hauled her off the cart.
Shaking off the lingering haze of the poison, Keriya struggled feebly as Doru wrapped another length of rope around her midriff, tying her to Fletcher, Roxanne, and Effrax. Their wrists were bound and their ankles were tied loosely to prevent them from running. The rope that connected them kept them uncomfortably close.
“Come on,” Doru growled. He grabbed the end of the rope and tugged them along like they were animals on a leash. As the caravan set off again, Keriya noticed Thorion. He lay on the cart, riddled with darts, his front and hind legs lashed together, his mouth clamped shut with a rusty iron muzzle. She strained closer, trying to assess the damage done to him.
“Don’t you dare!” Doru’s voice sliced through the air and a razor-thin tendril of water cracked across Keriya’s cheek. “No one touches the dragon.”
“You alright?” Effrax whispered as she stumbled, reeling from the sting of the attack.
“I’m just peachy,” she muttered. “What about you three?”
“Never better,” he said in the driest of voices.
“I’m okay,” Fletcher murmured, his voice low and shaky.
“I’ve been through worse in Aeria,” said Roxanne. Keriya couldn’t tell if she was joking. It didn’t particularly seem like she was.
“And . . . how’s Thorion?” she asked, glancing at the limp bronze body trussed on the cart.
Effrax’s eyes clouded. “I don’t know. They’ve kept him sedated with a huge amount of poison. Prolonged exposure to evasdrin can cut you off from your source forever.”
Keriya shook her head. “This is all my fault—”
“No talking, either!” Doru passed the lead line to Iako, who was pulli
ng the cart along a dirt path that cut through the fen. He backtracked and fell into step beside Keriya.
“If you try anything, if you hurt my men, you’ll regret it,” he threatened. She glared at him and was pleased to see him draw back from her gaze. “There are a lot of people looking for you, and not all of them would be as hospitable as I’ve been.”
“If you know who I am, why are you doing this? We’re not criminals. We’re working for Empress Aldelphia. She wants Thorion to fight Necrovar.”
Doru gave her a sad, knowing smile. “You’re making the assumption that we’re on your side.”
Keriya felt her jaw fall open. “You’re working for the Shadow? Why would you do that? He’s evil!”
“What do you know of evil? Dragons were painted as benevolent guardians for a ten-age, but they wielded a terrible magic that would have destroyed us all. Necrovar isn’t evil—he’s trying to save the world.”
Keriya scoffed. Doru was delusional. “You’re a traitor.”
“What has the empire done for me?” the guardsman shot back. “No one sent aid when the bogspectre attacked my town. No one cared when the crops failed in the north and people starved over the winter. I don’t owe the empire anything—they betrayed us. I need no more reason to support a new Master.”
Doru stalked away, but his words lingered with Keriya.
I said the same thing to Fletcher, she thought. Am I really so awful? Am I any different from Doru? Are we the same, just fighting on opposite sides?
A worse thought surfaced from a dark part of her drugged mind: Which side is the right one?
“There’s more to your quest than you let on, Dragoneyes,” Effrax whispered, glancing back at her. “How long have you known about Necrovar?”
“Long enough to know I shouldn’t tell every spy who blackmails his way into our group exactly what I know. How long have you known?” she asked, realizing that there was more to Effrax than he’d let on, too.
“Long enough to know I needed that dragon to save the Fironem,” was the heavy reply.
The Imperials made camp at nightfall. Doru seemed convinced that Keriya was capable of unspeakable acts of horror, so he tightened her bonds and gave them all water laced with evasdrin.
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