Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

  The huge Fireworked doors shuddered ominously. Sora cast about for what to do. She was no longer sure the castle walls would save them.

  “Let’s get everyone to the dungeons and the cur-dragon tunnels while we figure out—”

  “My queen!” A cur-dragon keeper burst into the entryway. A livid burn stood out on his arm. “They’re trying to come through the cur-dragon cavern. One of the beasts is perched on the opening in the mountainside.”

  “Forget that plan,” Sora said. She could hardly breathe. Her exits were being cut off one by one. “We have to get everyone underground. It’s the only way.”

  “What about Square Peak?” Oat said. “The caverns beneath Square can hold hundreds.”

  “How are we supposed to get over there?” the young guard demanded, his adolescent voice breaking. “We can’t go out there with those hell demons!”

  “We must stay calm,” Sora said, feeling nothing of the sort. “What’s your name again?”

  “Taklin, my queen,” said the young guard. “Son of Hirram.”

  “Well, Taklin, where’s—”

  A crash shook the walls, knocking her sideways into Oat. A huge hole had been punched through the ornate front doors of the castle. They glimpsed claws and a flash of red scales before flames burst through the opening, setting the tapestry on the opposite wall alight.

  “It’s getting through!” the cur-dragon keeper shrieked.

  “We can’t stay here,” Sora said. “Gather as many people as you can, and meet me in the kitchens. I know another way out.”

  She’d have to hope the dragons would be too busy attacking the castle to notice them sneaking out through her brother’s secret tunnel. They ran toward the underground kitchens, picking up a trail of servants, cooks, and guards. Too few of them were in any condition to fight. They had no choice but to run. Why had they sent so many able-bodied men down to the Lands Below?

  “Wait.” Sora paused in the corridor outside the kitchens. “We can’t leave Lima.”

  Oat frowned. “She’ll be safe enough in the dungeon.”

  “But she may have information,” Sora said. “I think she knew this might happen. We have to take her with us.”

  “I say we let the witch burn.” Kel had appeared. He was covered in soot, and he carried a bow and a half-empty quiver of arrows on his back. Sora felt a moment of dizzying relief, before it was overwhelmed once more by terror.

  “She could know a way to fight them,” Sora said. “We need her.”

  “I’ll get her then,” Oat said. He pushed through the crowd in the corridor and disappeared.

  Sora turned to Kel. “The archers?”

  “The arrows bounce right off their scales. We tried to get them in the eyes or something, but it was no use. Yuri got a shot right into that red devil’s throat, but the arrow was incinerated before it even hit flesh, steel arrowhead and all.”

  “Are they still trying?”

  “They’re all dead,” Kel said. “Roasted right off the battlements. Arrows aren’t going to be enough.”

  “We can’t fight them with so few Fireworkers.” Sora would feel sad about Yuri and the others later. If there was a later. “We have to hide.”

  They gathered in the kitchens, waiting for stragglers. Taklin returned with a frightened serving girl on each arm. There was still no sign of Oat and Lima. Before long, thick smoke began to pour down the corridor and fill the kitchen.

  “We can’t wait much longer,” Kel said.

  “Agreed,” Sora said. “Do you know how to get to the caverns on Square Peak?”

  “I do. But the risks of crossing—”

  A huge crack sounded above them. The true dragon had broken through the doors at last.

  “Well, we can’t stay here,” Sora said. “Follow me.”

  She opened the entrance to the secret tunnel her brother didn’t realize she knew about. She had never used it herself—being far more interested in following the rules than Siv had ever been—but she’d watched him sneak out before. The tunnel let out in a quiet street not too far from Pen Bridge, which crossed the Fissure to Square Peak.

  Sora led the way into the darkness, choosing not to bring an Everlight or Fire Lantern to light the tunnel. She had no idea what had drawn the true dragons here, but their attack concentrated on King’s Peak, where the Well was located. She had a suspicion they were drawn to the Fire, and she didn’t want to carry any Works in case they attracted the dragons’ attention.

  The tunnel was dry and warm. Her fingers brushed smooth rock as she led her little group into the depths of the mountain. She had managed to gather two dozen people from the castle, but more had been left behind. She hoped Oat would show them where to go when he returned with Lima. She hated risking her friend on Lima’s account, but the woman was privy to more Fireworker knowledge than anyone else left on the mountain.

  The refugees soon filled the tunnel with the smell of smoke and sweat. Sniffles and sobs accompanied the sounds of footsteps as they stumbled through the darkness. And they weren’t even through the worst of it yet.

  “Everyone listen to me!” Sora called, her voice echoing back along the line. “We cannot allow fear to overtake us. We must run to the caverns on Square as quickly and quietly as possible so we don’t draw the dragons’ attention.”

  “Can’t we stay in the tunnel?”

  “We wouldn’t have much room. The caverns will have space for all of us to hide. Besides, there are more people out there.”

  “Let them find their own tunnels,” one of the women said.

  “We don’t know how long the dragons will be here,” Sora said. “We have no food and water and no space to move around. Still, anyone who wishes to stay here may do so. I’m going out there. I have to get as many people as I can to safety.”

  “I’ll go with you, my queen,” said Taklin.

  “Me too,” said a young serving girl. “We can’t let the queen cross the bridge alone.”

  “Thank you,” Sora said. “Here is the exit. We’ll run straight to Pen Bridge. Stay in the shadows, and if you see anyone else, get them to come with us. Shout if you see a dragon. We’ll hide in the nearest building until it passes.”

  She took a deep breath and pushed open the tunnel door. The street outside was empty. A faint glow filled the sky. King’s Peak was burning. The dragons swooped and soared over the mountainside, the light of destruction glimmering on their wicked scales. Sora’s throat tightened. The greathouses and shops and taverns that filled the slope were being destroyed. And they had just started to rebuild after the Surge. How many more people had she lost to the Fire tonight?

  She steeled herself against despair. All that mattered right now was getting this little group of people to the shelter of the caverns.

  “All clear,” she said. “Follow me.”

  They hurried out into the night, flitting from building to building, sweeping up survivors wherever they found them. Sora led the way, and Kel took up the rear, an arrow nocked despite how ineffective they’d been against the dragons.

  Smoke rolled through the streets, choking them, making their eyes water. It was so thick it obscured the moon above, but they had plenty of light from the homes the true dragons had already torched.

  Sora didn’t understand. What did the true dragons gain by burning her city? Why had they awoken from their slumber hell bent on destruction? She could think of only one person who might have the answers, and she still hadn’t caught up with them.

  They came upon a group of nobles huddling in a greathouse parlor. They hurried out to join the retreat. One was Lord Roven, who had been enjoying a late Eventide drink with his wife and their friends.

  “Where is Jully?” Sora asked as the noblemen and merchants joined the band of servants and Castle Guards.

  “She’s at home,” her mother said. “We have to go get her.”

  Sora’s heart stuttered painfully. “We can’t.”

  “She’s our daughter. And your fri
end!”

  “We can’t fight those dragons, not when we know so little about them.” The Rovens’ greathouse was in a prime location on King’s Peak. It was far too close to where the dragons were wreaking havoc. How many more families were spread across the mountain, separated because they’d been enjoying the Eventide traditions? “We have to get these people across the Fissure first.”

  Lord Roven met her eyes. He looked scared, but he must know she was right. He may not be able to make the decision to leave without his daughter, but she could order him to as queen. She said a prayer for her friend as she led her little band of survivors through the night. After a moment, the Rovens followed.

  They were almost to the bridge, and the dragons still hadn’t spotted them. Sora felt as if eyes of Fire were roving across the slope of the mountain, seeking her out. With every addition to their party, she was sure they would be noticed at last. But she couldn’t leave anyone behind. The caverns on Square might be the only place they could hide.

  By the time they reached Pen Bridge, everyone was too scared for tears. They followed her with wide, wooden eyes and pale faces. She paused in the shelter of a greathouse within sight of the bridge. Her group crowded together in the shadows as if to gather strength before the final stretch. But someone was already hiding there.

  An old man popped his head out of the doorway of the greathouse. It was old Lord Silltine, Vine’s father. He’d wrapped himself in a thick cloak despite the warmth of the summer night. His butler stood at his side, supporting him so he wouldn’t lose his balance.

  “We have been watching the true dragons, my queen,” Lord Silltine said. “Two of them circle through the Fissure every few minutes, but most are concentrating on King’s.”

  “What about the Village?”

  “Difficult to say from this angle. Hopefully, people will hide in the mines.”

  “We’re going to hide in the caverns on Square,” Sora said. “Do you think we can cross the bridge while the dragons circle around?”

  Lord Silltine considered for a moment. “Yes, but you must all try to make it in one pass.”

  “Thank you.” Sora ordered everyone to prepare to run as soon as the dragons made their next circuit through the Fissure. Kel joined her at the front of the group so he could lead the way to the caverns on the other side. Taklin the teenage guard volunteered to take up the rear.

  “I’ll make sure everyone makes it, my queen,” he said.

  “Thank you, Taklin. We’re counting on you.”

  Sora turned back to Lord Silltine. “Can you make it across? Forgive me, but I understand you are not well.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Lord Silltine said grimly. “I’ll stay here and send anyone I see along to the caverns. I’m too old to dash across bridges.”

  Sora gripped his hand briefly. Despite his ill health, his handshake was firm.

  “House Silltine is a friend to the Amintelles, my queen,” he said. “We will be true to the end.”

  “Here they come!” Kel called. “Take cover.”

  The group huddled in the shadows, staying as still as possible as a pair of dragons soared toward them through the Fissure. The creatures flew over and under the bridges, their cries echoing through the vast canyon between King’s and Square Peak. They pulled their massive wings close to their sides when they dove into the gaps, then spread them wide to climb into the air once more.

  The true dragons were the largest creatures Sora had ever seen. Their powerful bodies were easily fifty times the size of a typical cur-dragon, but some of their mannerisms were similar: the way they gamboled through the air, the way they batted at each other with their wings, as if playing around after their long slumber. They seemed to take joy in diving close to the bridges, making the lines sway.

  Then one of the dragons opened its mouth and shot a jet of Fire at Furlingbird Bridge. It ignited instantly, the flames spreading outward toward the peaks. The creature shrieked in triumph.

  “That’s not good,” muttered Kel at her side.

  Another bridge went up in flames. Light stretched across the Fissure as the bridge burned. Bits of blazing wood and rope fell into the depths.

  The dragons drew nearer to Pen Bridge. If it burned, they would have no hope of getting across to Square Peak. They’d be spotted for sure on their way to the next closest bridge. Sora hardly dared to watch.

  But the creatures had tired of their bridge-burning game. They soared right over Pen Bridge and continued their circumnavigation of the mountain, leaving it intact.

  “Now, my queen,” said Lord Silltine. “Go now.”

  Sora and the others ran. They gave up on stealth. The only thing that mattered was getting across the bridge and into the caverns before the dragons noticed them. Sora’s slippers hit the first slats of the bridge. She wished she were wearing boots. The others’ footsteps drummed behind her as more and more of them crossed onto the bridge.

  A stitch caught in Sora’s side as she sprinted through the darkness. She could hardly see the wood beneath her feet, making it feel as if she were running through thin air.

  Halfway there. Somewhere far beneath her, the wild Oakwind River raged in the depths of the Fissure. The fall was so far that hitting the water would be like striking stone.

  Don’t think about that. You’re not going to fall. You’re going to make it.

  She gasped for breath, each gulp of air full of smoke. She could smell her fear, feel it pounding in her as she crossed the bridge. She had to get these people to safety.

  Kel ran at her side, determination in every line of his body. They were going to make it across. They had to.

  Then Lady Roven shrieked. “They’re turning around!”

  Sora risked a glance to her left. The two dragons had banked, and they were soaring in a wide circle, turning back toward the bridges they had left unburned. When the dragons spotted the line of people running for safety, they gave a terrific cry that echoed up the Fissure like rolling thunder.

  “Hurry!” Sora shouted. “We’re almost there.”

  The light from the fires on King’s Peak illuminated every nook and cranny on Square Peak ahead, every alleyway where her people could hide from the dragons—if they only made it to the end of the bridge.

  Sora had never run faster in her life. She couldn’t give up if she wanted to live to see the morning. She shouted a wordless battle cry and forced her legs to move faster.

  Her feet hit the stones of Square Peak. The dragons drew nearer, almost within range. Sora scrambled up the winding path and dove behind the nearest tavern.

  “Faster!” she shouted to the people behind her. “Run faster, for Firelord’s sake.”

  Kel sprinted past, leading the way to the cavern entrance. One by one, her people leapt from the bridge to solid ground and followed him up the hillside. Sora huddled by the tavern wall, urging them on.

  The survivors bolted past her, gasping and straining, their eyes alive with fear. They weren’t going to slow down now. Stones skittered away beneath their feet as they charged after Kel, who led the way through the night.

  A dozen people were still on the bridge when the dragons reached it. The creatures shrieked in anger, as if they resented these puny little humans for daring to survive. They opened their mouths and released a torrent of dragon Fire. The bridge ignited, and flames darted toward the stragglers.

  “Move!” Sora shrieked.

  Another person reached the peak, Lord Samanar, then another, Lord Morrven. The two lords grabbed hands and helped each other up the slope. The flames were spreading. The bridge wouldn’t last much longer. The dragons turned again, soaring above the burning bridge as if admiring their handiwork—or waiting for their victims to fall.

  The people running for safety were silhouetted against the flames. A few more darted past Sora, and she pointed them in the direction Kel had taken the others. But she couldn’t join them until everyone was across.

  Hurry. Please hurry.

&n
bsp; Only two people remained on the bridge now. Smoke obscured their figures, and she couldn’t tell who it was. Perhaps it was Taklin, the teenage guard who had so bravely offered to take up the rear? Or had Lord Silltine decided to cross the Fissure after all?

  The pair burst through a ring of flame, hands raised to protect their eyes from the smoke. Both of them stood tall against the glow. It was Oat and Madame Ruminor!

  Lima wasn’t as fast as the young duelist-turned-guard, but he urged her forward, almost dragging her through the flames. Oat knew how important it was to the queen that they get whatever information Lima had. They were almost to the end of the bridge.

  But it was too late. The dragons grew tired of their game and shot another jet of Fire at the bridge. The lines gave way at last. With a terrible creaking sound, the bridge collapsed, the debris falling in a torrent of sparks.

  Oat and Lima jumped, reaching for the cliff edge, the unburned patch of ground that would mean safety. Oat pushed Lima, lending her his momentum. Sora shouted, knowing her words wouldn’t help.

  Lima seized the post that held one of the bridge lines, wrapping her hands desperately around it as the bridge fell out from beneath her.

  But Oat wasn’t close enough. He shoved Lima forward just in time, then he disappeared from view.

  Sora leapt from her hiding place and hurtled back down the slope. Not Oat. Not the kind, unassuming guard who had been one of her first allies. She skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff, barely sparing a glance for Lima, who was still holding tight to the post, feet dangling over the chasm.

  Sora looked over the edge, praying Oat had grabbed a line or a ledge or even Lima’s foot.

  But he was gone.

  The dragons let loose an ear-shattering roar, reminding Sora she wasn’t safe just because she had made it to Square Peak. She wanted to leave Lima where she hung, but she couldn’t let Oat’s sacrifice be for nothing. Tears nearly blinding her, she hauled the evil woman out of the precipice.