by Jordan Rivet
Selivia ran, staying to the shadows. She had to get out of sight before anyone saw her. As she darted across the edge of the square, she spotted something shiny on the ground. Not thinking, she stooped to pick it up, her fingers closing on a cold, hard object. It was the icy dagger the Soolen officer had whipped forward to kill Fodorov. A thin line of blood marred the iridescent shard.
Resisting the urge to drop it, Selivia clutched the shard of icy magic tight. She had only her tiny work knife in her pocket. She might need this before she made it out of the city.
The Soolens closed in on the helpless Sensors as Selivia left the square behind, running as fast as she could.
Chaos reigned in the streets. It took three times longer than it should have to reach the outer boundaries. She darted from house to house, hiding behind sand screens and colorful curtains, a stitch catching in her side. Her hand went numb from clutching the dagger, but it didn’t melt as quickly as ice normally did. It was still wider than her palm by the time she crept from the shadows of a boundary house and charged onto the plains.
She stumbled, stunned by what she found. A huge Soolen force gathered in the desert, amassing in the shadow of the Rock while the vanguard dealt with the resistance in the city. This must be the entirety of Commander Brach’s force! Selivia prayed most of the Far Plainsfolk had made it to the tunnels. She spotted a few brightly clad figures fleeing across the plains, but the Soolens didn’t seem interested in chasing after stragglers. There was nowhere for them to go out here.
Selivia stayed well away from the soldiers as she hurried into the wilderness. Pollen hung thick over the plains, and aromas bloomed around her as she crushed wildflowers in her haste to reach her destination. Her dress was soaked through with sweat, and her breath came in gasps. She hardly dared contemplate what she was about to do. She focused on the swirling colors beneath her feet and the ice in her hand. She couldn’t let fear stop her now. This was her only chance to escape. The Soolens would never let her near the true dragon again if they succeeded in taking the city.
A different smell overpowered the scent of crushed flowers as she arrived at the true dragon’s crater: charred flesh. Someone had reached the dragon before her. Two bodies lay on the sloping wall of the pit. They had climbed down to attack the captive creature and been roasted for their troubles.
The true dragon himself looked more like a wild beast than ever. He snapped his jaws angrily, pacing about with his shackles rattling. A feral light burned in his cobalt eyes. Selivia appreciated how dangerous he truly was for the first time as he stalked across the crater floor, pulling at his chains, tail lashing like a mace. She wished she could abandon her mission when she saw how agitated he was. But there was no turning back now.
How could she get close to his chains? He didn’t look as if he’d be calming down anytime soon. Then Selivia spotted the source of his fury. Someone—one of the charred soldiers probably—had stuck a spear into the softer scales on his belly. It didn’t go in too deep, but the angle of the spearhead made it impossible for the creature to grasp it with his teeth and pull it out.
The true dragon bellowed, and Selivia’s heart cracked at the sound of his pain. He spit a jet of Fire toward his own body, attempting to melt the spearhead, but he couldn’t quite reach. He was growing frantic with pain and rage. He had to calm down before he hurt himself. Or attracted more soldiers.
“Hey,” she called.
A furious spurt of Fire answered her. She dove out of the way as the liquid magic drenched the spot where she’d been standing, heat coming off it in waves.
It took Selivia a minute to recover her courage enough to peek over the edge of the crater again. She had startled him. That was all.
The dragon sat on his haunches, watching his Fire trickle down from where he’d tried to roast her. She took a deep breath and called out again. “Hello there! It’s me. I’m your friend.”
The dragon snorted, but he didn’t spurt Fire again. He looked up at her and ruffled his wings angrily.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m glad you got those guys though.”
She nodded at the charred figures, trying not to look directly at them.
The dragon snapped his jaws, apparently proud. Then he let out a keening sound and presented his breast, where the black spearhead stood out against his pale-green scales.
“That looks dreadful,” Selivia said. “Will you let me help you?”
The true dragon cocked his head to the side.
“I’ll take it out if you promise not to breathe Fire at me. Is that okay with you?”
The true dragon huffed. Then he made that expression that she was certain was meant to be a smile. She took another deep breath and swung her legs over the edge of the crater.
“Here goes nothing.”
She slid on her bottom down the side of the pit, staying well clear of the corpses. She kept her eyes on the true dragon’s cobalt ones, watching for any hint that he had changed his mind. But the dragon simply watched her as she scooted nearer.
She approached cautiously, trembling hands raised. She shouldn’t make any sudden movements or get close too quickly. Easy. He had to get accustomed to her presence. Easy there.
Suddenly, the dragon lowered himself toward her and presented her with his injured belly, imposing and insistent. It happened so fast that she squeaked and fell to the ground. The dragon simply hovered with the spearhead directly within her reach. Okay, so he didn’t want to wait while she grew accustomed to him.
Before fear could overwhelm her, she reached out and laid a hand on the true dragon’s scales. They were hard and exquisitely smooth. The belly scales reminded her of the softness of a baby cur-dragon. She stroked the true dragon gently and tugged on the spearhead with her other hand.
It didn’t budge. The true dragon roared, the sound a mixture of pain and impatience.
“Be quiet, you big baby,” she said. “I need a better grip.”
The true dragon snorted, but it settled lower, making it easier for her to grasp the wicked black metal.
She gave one sharp pull, and the spearhead slid out.
The dragon shuddered. His scales seemed to rearrange themselves to protect the tender wound—but not before she saw a shocking sight: the dragon’s blood was pure silver. She ran a finger over the silver staining the spearhead, wondering at the sheen. In the second she was looking down, the true dragon shifted around, and suddenly his cobalt eye was even with her face.
Selivia jumped, dropping the spearhead, as the dragon brought his head within inches of her. It really was the size of her body. The morning sunlight slid over the obsidian scales on his nose as if they were made of glass. She stared back into that glorious cobalt eye.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered. She was sure the true dragon chuckled, his hot breath huffing around her.
Then he shot out a quick spurt of Fire and melted the offending spearhead into a smoldering lump.
“It deserved that,” Selivia said.
The true dragon pulled back to look her over. She accepted his scrutiny, figuring it would be a good idea for them to get to know each other.
“My name is Selivia,” she said. “I’m a princess. Aren’t princesses and dragons supposed to be friends?”
The true dragon tipped his head sideways.
“Okay, I don’t know either. But I want to be your friend. I think we can help each other. We don’t have a lot of time. Can we escape now and get to know each other later?”
The dragon snapped his jaws within an inch of her face. The sudden movement almost made her heart stop, but she thought it meant yes.
“Okay, then. Let’s see about getting you unchained.”
The true dragon huffed then pointed his massive nose at the lump of melted metal that had once been the spearhead.
“It won’t hurt you anymore,” she said.
The true dragon shook his head and pointed at the metal again, shuffling his feet
beneath him.
“I don’t understand.”
“He can’t melt the chain.”
Selivia’s surprise at the new voice was nothing compared to the dragon’s. He leapt up and sent another jet of Fire roaring toward the rim of the crater. It went on for a long time, and Selivia feared there would be nothing left of the newcomer before she even knew who it was.
“Will you tell him to stop?” the voice called after a minute. “I’m trying to help.”
“Ivran?”
“Yes! Tell him not to roast me.”
The dragon was still merrily spitting Fire at the rim of his prison, the liquid gold running down the walls in shimmering waterfalls. She tapped on his scales.
“Would you let him talk?” she asked. “He’s a friend. Well, not a friend, really, but I don’t think he’ll hurt us.”
The true dragon stopped expelling flame at last and sat back.
“Promise you won’t hurt him?”
The true dragon sighed heavily then shuffled back even farther, somehow managing to look as innocent as a kitten. The shift in his position revealed the chains on his ankles, which appeared to be made of iron. Fire was supposed to melt iron, wasn’t it?
“Ivran? You can come down now.”
“No way,” Ivran said, creeping to the edge of the crater and poking his head into view. “I’ll stay up here, thanks.”
“Fine,” Selivia said. “What were you saying about the chains?”
“There’s an Air spell on them to keep Fire from getting through. That’s why he didn’t melt through them his first day here.”
“Can it be broken?”
“I can do it,” Ivran said. “But only if you promise to stop the Soolens.”
“Stop them how?”
“Use the true dragon. If the beast will do what you say, you should go out and roast the invaders in their boots.”
Selivia looked up at the true dragon. He gazed back steadily.
“I think we’re friends,” Selivia said. “But I don’t think he’ll do what I say.”
“Then you’re not flying him out of here,” Ivran said. “You can’t abandon us.”
Selivia looked up at the rim of the crater and folded her arms. “I don’t owe you anything, and neither does he. You kept him a prisoner for a year!”
“It was only so he could protect us,” Ivran said. “Now’s the time.”
“You can’t just order him to fight for you,” Selivia said. “You have to work together. Commune.”
Ivran’s jaw set. It was amazing how ugly such a good-looking boy could be. “If you won’t promise, then good luck breaking that Air spell.”
“Please, Ivran.”
“They’re coming!” He looked over his shoulder then back at the pit. “Get out of there before they see you.”
“Ivran, wait!”
He disappeared from view once more. Selivia couldn’t believe it. He had said he would help her! She understood he wanted to protect his people, but they couldn’t enslave others to do it. It wasn’t right.
But it was too late. Ivran was gone, and the steady beat of footsteps announced he was telling the truth. The Soolens were coming.
Selivia clutched at her skirt. What was she going to do? She couldn’t use the Air. How would she break the spell on the dragon’s chains? Then her fingers brushed something in her pocket. Something cold and hard.
“The shard!” She pulled out the bit of Soolen magic she’d picked up in the square. It had melted some, but a sliver as long as her hand remained. She looked up at the true dragon.
“It’s worth a try. Hold still.”
She crept beneath his belly, trusting he’d allow it. Neither of them had much choice right now. The Soolens would never let such a dangerous creature live.
The true dragon had a shackle around each hind ankle. Knowing she might only have one chance, she broke the ice shard in two pieces, each one shorter than her pinky finger. She crept to the true dragon’s side and jammed the first one into the lock. It slid in cleanly. The Air spell didn’t keep out the Soolen magic—whatever it was. She worked the shard back and forth, trying to spring the lock.
It was no use—the ice seemed to meld into the lock, but it didn’t release it.
She heard voices. The Soolens were getting closer. The dragon shuffled impatiently. Feeling frustrated, Selivia left the lump of ice in the lock and moved to the other ankle. She worked the second piece back and forth, trying once again to get it to work.
Suddenly, there was a burst of heat nearby. The true dragon spit a jet of Fire at its ankle, directly at the lock where she’d left the shard.
“Wait! I might be able to use that to—”
It was too late. The Fire hit the lock. Even if the Air spell protected the iron, it was sure to melt that bit of ice. It would be useless.
Instead, the shard popped like a bubble, forcing the lock to spring open with a flash of white light. The true dragon gave his ankle a mighty shake, and the manacle clunked to the ground.
“You did it!” Selivia shouted. “Quickly, let’s get the other one.”
She forced the last bit of hardened magic into the lock as the first of the Soolen soldiers reached the pit.
“Blasted rock-eating goddess!” a man shouted. “Look what I found!”
“Is it one of ours?”
“Does it look like it to you?”
The first man’s response was muffled as Selivia dove behind the true dragon’s tail, hoping they hadn’t seen her.
“There’s someone down there with it.”
“Blast,” she whispered.
The true dragon grunted and gave her an impatient look. She stared back at him for a second before she understood. Then she grabbed hold of his hind foot and used the remaining shackle to climb onto his back.
The instant she was secure, the true dragon blasted another jet of Fire at the shard in the second lock. It burst open in a shower of metal and white light. The true dragon gathered his strength, spread his jet-black wings, and launched into the air.
Selivia screamed. The dragon scales were hard and slippery. The beat of the wings threatened to send her falling to the earth with every stroke. She was too stunned to take in her surroundings at first. She knew only the heave of the wings and the light of the morning sun on the jet scales protecting the dragon’s head. The sharp crown of spikes cut into the blue sky beyond. They were flying! Actually flying!
She was riding a real live true dragon! She had never been more scared or happy in her entire life.
The dragon banked sharply, and Selivia tightened her grip on its neck to keep from tumbling off. It was much harder to keep her grip than she would have expected. Warm wind whistled around her, ripping her scarf from her hair and making her skirt fly up around her thighs. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered but the glorious rush of the sky and the dragon and the utterly terrifying feeling of being in the air.
The true dragon tested out his strength after his year in captivity. He flew in a wide circle, the black membranous wings almost transparent in the sunshine. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave the sunset lands just yet.
Selivia worked up the nerve to look down. The sight made her stomach plummet, but they weren’t too high up yet. The true dragon’s crater passed beneath them, and the soldiers gathered at its edge looked as small as cats. They stared at the dragon soaring overhead with wide eyes and open mouths.
The dragon turned, and they glided toward the city. Flashes of silver appeared below, and stones continued to explode. People darted around in groups, but the Soolens had occupied most of the eastern border, blocking their access to the Rock. The Far Plainsfolk were trapped.
As she soared high above the chaos, Selivia felt a tinge of regret. She couldn’t just leave them. Yes, the Far Plainsfolk had planned to use her as a hostage, but they had also offered her refuge. She counted Zala and Ananova as friends still. Plus, Fenn was down there. Her bodyguard would be safer without Selivia at her sid
e, but she still felt uneasy about leaving her. She wondered if she and the true dragon could even the score before making their escape.
Before she could ask, the true dragon let out a vicious roar and banked so sharply that she almost fell off his back.
“What?” she gasped. He probably couldn’t hear her above the rushing of the wind. She looked down, stomach lurching when she realized how high they had climbed now. She spotted the source of the dragon’s cry. A Soolen officer stood in an open square, gathering a coil of that silvery power. He hurled it at the dragon, trying to lasso him as he soared overhead.
Selivia shrieked as they swooped to avoid the silver rope. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around the true dragon’s neck. It was folly to think she could control the creature. The true dragon would do exactly as he pleased.
Heat built within him suddenly, his scales becoming so hot, it hurt to hold on. An instant later, Fire spewed from his mouth in a deadly fountain and engulfed the Soolen officer. The officer screamed, sharp and short. A blinding flash of light filled the square.
The true dragon shrieked in triumph. Selivia had no idea whether the destruction pleased him or if he was just happy to breathe Fire and soar through the sky. He banked sharply and spat a jet of Fire over a group of Soolen soldiers. He didn’t seem to care that these soldiers weren’t the ones who’d held him captive.
The dragon’s rampage drew the attention of more Soolens. The soldiers ran toward him, throwing glittering spears and trying to shoot him with silver arrows. Selivia clung to his neck, body rigid with terror. But fear and confusion filled the eyes of the soldiers too. Every company focused their efforts on the true dragon. As they tried to shoot him down, more Far Plainsfolk slipped through their grasp.
The dragon wheeled for another pass, boiling a trio of soldiers where they stood. But more were coming, arrows nocked, and at least two additional magic workers were now sending ropes of silver high into the air to try to catch him.
He roared and climbed higher, sailing away from the carnage he had wrought. He must have decided he’d had enough excitement for one day.
Selivia’s arms tired quickly from holding on, but she didn’t dare shift into a more comfortable position. Her dragon hadn’t flown for a year. He must need rest soon. She was still rigid with exhaustion and rank terror.
