by David Estes
“Siri!” she shouted above the wind. “My soul! I will die for you! If that will bring you peace, I will die. I am yours. Do you hear me? Yours!”
You. Are. Not. My. Soul.
The tightness around Gwen’s chest vanished as Siri’s claws opened, and she fell.
She tumbled from the sky, her ears popping, her stomach dropping, the very air sucked from her lungs. Wind buffeted her body, and her cheeks slapped against her teeth. Even with her heromark, she knew she could not survive a fall from this height, not onto the hard, cracked Calypsian ground.
Memories flashed before her eyes. Her bonding day, how handsome Alastair had looked in his dress armor. Carnage and dragonfire. A last poem uttered from the most beautiful lips she’d ever kissed. Years cast in shadow and more loss. Years of hate and vengeance. And then a light in the form of a fair-haired fatemarked man voicing a message she didn’t want to hear.
Roan. Oh Roan. I am sorry I failed you. So sorry. If I could do it all over again…
What? She would change things? If so, she might’ve never met Raven, might’ve never understand the truth that Roan had known all along:
There can be peace. But first we must be willing. All of us. Even me.
Her body began to spin, corkscrewing as the ground grew closer. Time had finally turned against her, and yet she felt freer than she’d ever felt before, like she had her whole life ahead of her.
Thank you, Siri, for showing me this. I am honored to share your great Soul for a short time. I will miss you.
The ground was so close now she could see the individual stones on the pyramid with the broken capstone, the one Siri had shattered. She could see people, too, most of them stopped and watching her fall. Witnesses to her transformation.
She was an Orian, yes, but suddenly she felt a great love for these people, too. Not just the ones she knew, like Goggin and Whisper, but all of them. She didn’t want them to drown in the dark tide that rolled toward them. She wanted to throw them a rope.
She felt giddy now, laughter bubbling from her lips but stolen by the wind.
The ground opened its arms to receive her, and she closed her eyes.
Thus, she didn’t see the dark shape that swooped past her, accelerating beyond the speed of freefall, darting beneath her to catch her as gently as if she’d plopped onto a nest of feather pillows.
With a shriek, Siri rocketed upwards, two words filling every mind in all of Calypso.
MY SOUL.
And Gwendolyn Storm, Orian by birth, finally knew what it meant to be a dragon rider.
Sixty-Two
The Southern Empire, Calypso
Whisper Sandes
“You.” Whisper spat the word, feeling the familiar fires of anger as they were stoked.
Seeing this man was the last thing she needed, and yet she was glad for it. Giving herself to her anger meant she could hide from her loss for a little while longer.
Gat Vaid dragged chains behind him, surrounded by guards. His eyes were downcast, his muscular body seeming to sag further with each step. Why is he still in Calypso? Whisper wondered. Her sister had given him free passage back to Phanes, and yet here he was.
He stopped before the steps leading up to the dragon throne, falling to one knee of his own volition.
“He came to us,” one of the guards said. “He turned himself in. Said he was guilty of treason of the highest order.”
Whisper stared at the prisoner. She didn’t know what to make of him. First he’d aided Viper as she usurped the dragon throne. Then he’d betrayed her and helped them retake the empire, only to help Viper issue a lawful challenge, the very same that cost Raven her life.
And now he’s here.
Whisper wanted nothing more than to stand, descend the steps, and stab him through the heart.
But she didn’t, because she was empress now. What would Raven do? she asked herself. Gather information first. Understand the facts. “What treason have you committed?” she asked, her voice cold-sounding even to her.
The man looked up, tendrils of hair falling across his face. “I helped Viper Sandes usurp the throne.”
“And my sister pardoned you for that crime after you helped us retake it. What else?”
“I threatened the empress before you, Raven Sandes.”
Whisper wanted it to be true, but it simply wasn’t. “That was no threat. Viper used Calypsian law to her benefit. You helped her. That is no crime.”
“I—I will…kill…you.” The words seemed to come with great difficulty, and Whisper narrowed her eyes. Several of her guards began to draw their weapons, murmuring, “He threatened the empress’s life.”
“A false threat, under the circumstances,” she said. “You are weaponless, in chains, surrounded by my guards.”
“I’ll kill you!” Gat screamed, spit flying from his lips. He lowered his voice and it took on a more menacing tone. “Unless you kill me first, I will kill you. I swear it. I swear it on all the gods of old, on the very life of your sister.”
There were too many witnesses, and anyway, why shouldn’t Whisper give this man the swift death he wanted? If not for him, Raven might still be alive.
And yet, something gave Whisper pause. Her sister hadn’t wanted to punish this man. At the time, Whisper hadn’t understood it, but now, she thought, maybe she did. He’d been sent to Zune, just like them. The fighting pits changed a person—that much Whisper knew. So she did something mad, something that, in the moment, surprised even her.
“I pardon you,” she said.
All around the prisoner, the guards frowned, several of their mouths dropping open.
“What?” Gat said, his shadowed eyes never leaving hers. “You can’t do that.”
“I am the empress now, so yes, I can.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to do something more productive than die. I need you to fight for me. Can you do that?”
She could see the surprise on his face. More than that, she could see the relief, lighting him up like a lit torch. He didn’t truly want to die, she thought. He was doing it because he thought it was the honorable thing. “Yes,” he whispered. “I will fight for you. I will fight for Raven. I will fight for Calypso.”
“Good. Guards, outfit him with armor and weaponry. Gat Vaid will join the army as it marches to the border. From this moment forward, no one leaves or enters Calyp without my express command. Is that clear?”
As each guard assented, Whisper thought, We are an island in a tumultuous sea. But we shall not sink.
Sixty-Three
The Southern Empire, Calypso
Gwendolyn Storm
The nub was growing. Not three days had gone by since Raven’s death, and already the nub was as long as Gwen’s forearm, the skin rough but soft, not yet having developed scales.
Siri, Gwen said, trying to coax the dragon from sleep. The dragon stirred but did not awaken, her tail curled around Gwen, who had to be careful not to impale herself on the spikes. She tried again: Siri.
This time, one of the dragon’s eyes opened, immediately locking on her. It was something she still hadn’t quite gotten used to—how quickly a dragon shifted from the fog of sleep to complete awareness. My soul? the dragon said.
Yes. I am. I am yours. Gwen had repeated these same words often over the last couple days, trying to overcome the confusion that continued to cloud the dragon’s mind.
I have nothing for you, the dragon said.
You do, Gwen said. It’s not as much as you had before, but I can feel your soul. It is mine. You gave it to me freely.
I did?
Gwen’s lip trembled. She could feel the tether to this magnificent beast strengthening with each passing day, and now it broke her heart to sense the hole in Siri’s soul.
She knew she had to stop the dragon from crossing the bridge over the chasm that led to madness. But how? Yes. You gave me all you had left. Can’t you feel our bond?
No. But…
&n
bsp; But what, my soul?
But…there is something. In the distance. A great darkness. It calls to me. I would like to explore it.
Gwen’s heart hammered. That is not a good place, she said. You should not go there. Not now. Maybe later. But not now.
Then why have my kin gone there? Why do they call to me?
They don’t understand.
The dragon said nothing for a time, her leathery black wings shifting to cover her body more fully, as if she was cold. Then she said, I won’t go to the darkness. Not yet.
That’s good. I am your soul. And you are mine.
I am?
Gwen wasn’t certain Siri was ready for this, but she also knew she might never be. Plus, with the Horde potentially marching deeper and deeper into the Four Kingdoms, time was of the essence.
So she whispered soothingly into Siri’s ear as they descended in long, slow circles. This is a safe place. No one will harm you. You are with your soul.
Though Gwen continued to sense the confusion clouding the dragon’s mind, at least she hadn’t spoken of the dark place in more than a day. And the second neck had stopped growing.
The dragon swooped lower and lower. The Calypsians had already stopped what they were doing to stare and point. Some of them ran for shelter—they had all heard the stories of what dragons were capable of when they went mad. Gwen couldn’t blame them.
Make for the palace courtyard, Gwen said. There is safety behind the walls. It will be quieter there.
I have been to this place? Siri asked, sniffing the air.
Many times. You belong here.
Belong. She repeated the word as if it was new to her.
Yes. I promise.
I trust you.
How did Raven know? Gwen wondered. Why did she trust me with the most valuable thing in her life? Am I worthy of her trust?
Raven. That name…
Gwen was still getting used to the fact that the dragon could read her every thought. She’d have to be more careful. But she also wouldn’t hide the past from her—she deserved better than that. Yes. She was your soul before me.
Dragons only have one soul.
Usually, Gwen admitted. But you are special.
She felt energy thrum through the dragon’s scales beneath her. Warmth flooded Gwen’s chest. It was the first time Siri had purred since…
Guards poured into the courtyard just as Siri landed, lowering her head so Gwen could slide off. A line of archers stood on the wall, arrows already nocked and aimed. The guards drew swords and scimitars. Siri growled, her deadly tail flicking from side to side. Stay calm, Gwen told Siri.
Whisper emerged from the throne room’s rear door. She passed through her lines of guards without pausing. She only stopped when nothing separated them. Gwen noticed the way her eyes flicked from Gwen to the dragon’s second neck, and back again.
“I told you to depart these lands. You have risked much bringing her here,” the empress said.
“She’s not mad,” Gwen said.
“Not yet. But she will descend, as they always do. And when she does…”
I…I think…I remember you, the dragon said.
Whisper flinched and Gwen almost smiled. Good girl. “I don’t understand,” Whisper said. “She destroyed the pyramid. I saw her drop you from a great height.”
“You also saw her catch me.”
“True. But still…the dragons don’t return from that dark place. It’s impossible.”
Gwen didn’t know enough to know whether that was true, but she did know Siri wasn’t like other dragons. “Siri is strong. She resisted the pull of the darkness. She didn’t have to come back because she never left. Not fully.”
“You helped her?”
Gwen nodded. “I did what I could, but it was her decision to make.”
“But she’s growing another…”
“The growth has stopped,” Gwen said. “For now. Speak to her—not me.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
“The truth as you know it. Tell her what is in your heart.”
“I—”
“Not out loud. In here.” Gwen gestured to her chest.
Whisper swallowed but nodded. Gwen forced her mind away from Siri’s. This wasn’t her conversation to listen to. The dragon’s tail stopped flicking. She became deadly still, almost as if she was a statue. But then she roared, fire roiling from her dark lips.
The guards tensed and one of the archers lost his nerve, his bowstring twanging as an arrow was released. Siri’s tail slapped at the air, knocking it away. She growled again, at the archer.
Whisper shouted, “Hold your fire!”
Gwen’s entire body was tensed, and she was ready to spring onto Siri’s back and command her to fly. Be at peace, she urged, hoping Siri could hear her.
Siri roared again, stalking one step closer to the wall, where the foolish archer was fumbling for another arrow. My soul, Gwen said. It was a mistake. He didn’t know what he was doing.
Tries to hurt us. Must defend ourselves.
No. Not here. We are safe here.
Lies!
Listen to the empress. She controls these soldiers. She is the truth.
She is full of lies too.
The situation suddenly felt balanced on the tip of a knife, and Gwen couldn’t be certain which way it would fall. She glanced at Whisper, wondering what she had said to the dragon. “Order your soldiers to leave,” Gwen said. Whisper looked at her like she was the one growing a second head. “Please,” Gwen said. “Otherwise all might be lost.”
“My sister trusted you,” Whisper said. “I will honor that trust. Do not abuse it, or I shall have to kill you with my own hands.”
Siri growled again, but Gwen held up a hand and she stopped. “Fair enough. But if I betray your trust, I will slit my own throat to save you the trouble.”
Whisper offered a grim smile and then said, “Soldiers! Leave us. That is a command.”
Though it was clear it went against their better judgment, the soldiers were well trained and marched away, leaving both the courtyard and walls empty save for the empress, the dragon, and her soul.
“What is it you want from me?” Whisper asked, when they were alone.
“We want you to fight.”
“If the Horde enters our lands, we will stand against th—”
“No,” Gwen said. “We want to you to meet them in battle beyond your borders. We want you to fight alongside the other kingdoms with a dragon at your head. Will you do this thing? Will you honor your sister by carrying her work forward?”
Whisper locked eyes with her. “No.”
Sixty-Four
The Western Kingdom, Knight’s End
Bane Gäric
He’d saved Knight’s End for last, because it was a place filled with screams and blood in his memory. A place where he knew he’d gone over the edge, finding joy in the killing, in the spilling of blood, regardless of the righteous intent that lay behind it all.
He’d already traveled much of the Four Kingdoms in the span of a few hours. First, he’d watched as Raven Sandes’ body was burned to ash by her own dragon. One, he’d thought, wondering who the other would be. Then he’d shifted northward to Darrin, which lay in ruin, deserted and spattered in blood. It was in the frozen north that he’d felt his chest tighten. It had felt like someone was squeezing his very heart, trying to pop it. He’d gasped and flopped on the ground, and eventually the feeling had passed. It was probably just the stress of all that had happened. He tried not to think about it, instead refocusing on his search. Next he’d visited the iron city of Ferria, but most of the legionnaires were gone, along with Gareth Ironclad. Not dead, just gone.
Now, as he looked upon Knight’s End, the city’s destruction was complete. None survived save the crows.
So much death, and though Bane had killed many times before, his was for the greater good, or so he’d always believed. This, however, was mindless, purposeless. Death for
the sake of death, half-chewed carrion left to rot or be picked apart by dark scavengers. I can stop this, he thought. I can save them all.
But…
Finally—finally—he had a partner in all this. We’re two sides of the same coin—dark and light, death and life. Together, we can end this. Only together.
But…
Bane had hurt so many. He knew he’d done it for the right reasons but it didn’t stop him from wondering whether what he’d done had been right. Have I done any good in this world? He wasn’t certain. And if he hadn’t, this was an opportunity to change all that.
But…
He knew what Roan would say—“We have to do this together”—but Bane didn’t want anyone else to die. After all, the original prophecy promised the deaths of eight rulers, a prophecy that was now fulfilled. The two additional portions of his deathmark came later. Perhaps they were only suggestions. Perhaps he could save those two lives. And why couldn’t he save rather than kill? He held the very power over death in the marking that burned on his scalp.
Yes, he thought, full of purpose once more. He would find the Horde. He would find their leader. And he would kill him. Then he would kill them all to save the rest.
Sixty-Five
The Southern Empire, Phanea
Roan Loren
Everything was so messed up.
Bane hadn’t returned with information, so Roan didn’t know who was dead and who was alive. Shae and Erric had almost destroyed all the fatemarked, including themselves. Shanti Parthena Laude had nearly buried them in the rubble from a mass explosion narrowly thwarted by Falcon Hoza. And Rhea? Rhea had a daughter marked with peace, only they couldn’t even explore what power the mark might offer to save the Four Kingdoms.
Speaking of Rhea…she was back in full form.
