Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

  You have to find your own way out of this.

  She peeled her face off Mav’s scales and scanned her surroundings, still clinging to the blunt spines on his back. Mav had landed on top of a greathouse not far from where Pen Bridge used to be. It and most of the other bridges crossing this section of the Fissure to Square Peak had been destroyed. She counted a mere handful still intact.

  A hint of movement flickered on Stork Bridge. Was that a person? Could people be alive over there?

  Mav shifted his position, and she lost sight of the figure on Stork Bridge. It could have been her imagination. The dragons were still shrieking at each other, but Mav barely paid them any attention. He settled down as if to nap after their long journey. Selivia didn’t dare leave his protection, even as the minutes stretched into what felt like hours.

  Her rigid muscles were beginning to feel as if they’d solidified in place when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She twisted as much as she could without losing her grip on the dragon’s neck, but she couldn’t see anyone. Was it her imagination? Had sheer terror finally driven her mad?

  Then she felt the tap again, like a brush of a finger on her arm. She went still, beginning to understand what was going on. She screwed her eyes shut and concentrated on clearing her mind, trying to make it as easy as possible for the person trying to reach her.

  Then the chatter of the dragons quieted, and she heard a man’s voice in her ear.

  “Welcome home, Princess Selivia.”

  “Who’s there?” she whispered. If the speaker was using the Air, he should be able to hear her.

  “A friend,” said the voice. “I’m hiding in the greathouse your dragon companion is using for his roost. Would you like to join me inside?”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Nowhere is safe in Vertigon anymore.”

  Selivia grimaced, not sure what to do. She was afraid to abandon Mav now. He might decide they weren’t friends anymore, and she had a feeling she was going to need his help.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked the voice. “Are more people hiding with you?”

  “Some. Your sister fled to Square Peak. She is caring for a large group of refugees in the caverns there.”

  “Sora!”

  “Yes, Princess.”

  Tears sprang to Selivia’s eyes, and she felt a lump the size of her fist in her throat. She wanted to see her sister so badly. Mav shifted beneath her, as if he could sense the tremor of her emotions.

  “I have to go to her,” Selivia whispered. “Can you tell me where?”

  “Find the tunnels,” the voice said. “I will attempt to alert them, but not everyone is receptive to the Air in Vertigon. It is taking a great deal of concentration for us to talk, even though you are right above my head.”

  “Who are you?” Selivia asked. The voice seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. An old man, certainly.

  “I am Lord Silltine,” the voice said proudly. “I am here with a number of others who couldn’t make it across the Fissure. Your friend, Lady Jully Roven, is especially eager to see you.”

  “Jully!” Selivia was tempted to climb down into the house beneath her. But as much as she wanted to see her friend, she had an intense need to see her sister, to know that at least one Amintelle still lived in Vertigon. “Tell her I say hi. I have so much to tell her! I met the Far Plains Sensors, and I made a deal with—”

  “Princess, there is little time. I must use the Air to attempt to reach the other peak.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Lord Silltine. Are you well in there?”

  “As well as can be expected.” She heard a chuckle through the Air. “I hope you’ve learned something on your travels that can help us with our dragon problem. You may be our only hope.”

  Oh dear. Selivia still couldn’t control her dragon. She couldn’t even get the ungainly thing to move when she wanted.

  Suddenly, Mav gave a snort and launched himself into the air. She clutched his blunt spines as he soared higher, feeling as if she’d left her stomach back on the roof.

  “Where are we going?”

  Mav squawked indignantly and wheeled around in a circle. The other dragons watched with great interest. Selivia couldn’t tell what he was trying to do. Then he looked back over his shoulder and snapped his jaws at her, and she had a sudden hunch. Perhaps he had been listening in on Lord Silltine.

  “Can you take me to a tunnel opening on the other peak?”

  At once, Mav turned and swept over the Fissure, great wings churning. Selivia felt a wild whirl of hope as he soared straight to Square Peak. They flew along the lower slopes, where the shadows hinted at workshops and dwellings in the side of the mountain.

  “Higher?” Selivia said. Mav obliged, carrying her toward the crown of the peak. She spotted dark shapes that could be the entrances to tunnels. Deep burn scars marred the landscape, as if the tunnels had been assaulted by numerous blasts of Fire.

  “There!” Selivia pointed at one such opening. A few other dragons had flown across the Fissure with them, as if curious to see what the newcomer was up to. She didn’t trust them not to eat her, so she’d have to dismount as close to the entrance as she could get.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Mav streaked toward the tunnel. Selivia’s stomach plummeted. She’d never get used to diving on dragonsback. At the last second, Mav’s wings flared, and they came to a stop by an empty goat paddock. Nearby, two other dragons landed, scraping at the earth as if trying to dig up worms. Selivia prayed they wouldn’t find their way in, not when she was so close.

  “Thanks for the ride, Mav!”

  She leapt down from his back and ran as fast as she could toward the tunnel. The entrance was severely burned, and huge chunks of char broke away in her hands as she clambered down into the darkness. She was safe!

  An affronted screech came from outside. She froze for a brief moment of indecision. Her heart thudded, relief and adrenaline rushing through her. She wanted to continue into the tunnel and never see another dragon for the rest of her days, but Mav had always treated her well, no matter what was natural for his species.

  She crept back to the entrance. Mav hovered just outside, sheltering her from the view of the other true dragons. If he weren’t so big, she would invite him into the caverns with her. As it was, he could only stick his nose in the entrance. She laid a hand on his huge black snout and looked him directly in his cobalt eye.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said softly. “I . . . I have to see if my sister is okay.”

  The dragon grumbled in agreement.

  “I’d still like to be friends,” Selivia said. “Please don’t eat me if we see each other again.”

  Mav snorted, and she wished she could understand him as easily as he understood her. Then he opened his mouth, and for a moment she feared he was going to swallow her up at last. Instead he huffed a soft, warm breath around her. It smelled like ash and charred animal bones, but it felt as warm and comforting as a hug.

  “Thank you,” she said again. Then she turned and started down the dark passageway.

  It didn’t take long before the Vertigonians found her.

  “It’s the strangest thing, Princess,” said the guard who reached her first. He wore an Amintelle-blue coat, nearly black with burns, and a scarf to protect himself from the smoke. “I got a feeling someone was whispering in my ear, telling me to take this passage, and here you are!”

  “Is my sister here?”

  “She’ll be very excited to see you.”

  Selivia felt a bubble of emotion forming deep in her chest. She hurried alongside the guard, who was wiry and not an inch taller than her. Voices and footsteps filtered in from other tunnels, and more ragged, soot-covered people joined them as they walked deeper into the mountain. There were so many! The bubble of emotion inside Selivia swelled with every step.

  There was something familiar about the guard who’d found her, though with the soot in his hair and the scarf protecting his face,
he could be anyone. As they neared the end of the tunnel, the smoke lessened, and he pulled down his scarf to reveal a very handsome face. She quickly connected it to his wiry frame and spritely movements.

  “You’re Kelad Korran!” she gasped. “The famous duelist! Are you a Castle Guard now?”

  “Yes, Princess.” Kel laughed. “Though this cavern isn’t much of a castle.”

  “I-I’m sure it’s lovely.” Selivia blushed deeply. Kelad Korran was one of the most popular duelists on the mountain—especially with the young ladies of Vertigon. Wait until she told Jully she’d had a whole conversation with him! It wasn’t nearly as easy to giggle over handsome young men with her sister, but even Sora ought to see how terribly pretty Kelad’s face was.

  It looked even more handsome when he grinned at her and said, “Shall we go see the queen?”

  A murmur of voices rose up to greet them as they left the tunnel. Cots were spread across the floor of a vast cavern, dimly lit with a sparse supply of Firebulbs. Selivia recognized many of the cave’s occupants: nobles, servants from the castle, children who seemed to have grown six inches since she left the mountain. Lords Samanar and Morrven sat on the ground, playing mijen, their famous animosity apparently forgotten. Lady Tull Denmore was mending a torn skirt, her delicate hands blackened with soot. Bridge carpenters, miners, merchants, servants, lords, and ladies alike were gathered together, united in the crisis of the true dragon invasion. They looked scared and hungry, but they looked like home.

  Selivia’s entourage had grown on their way through the tunnels. As people spotted them, they jumped up and surged toward them across the cavern, chattering excitedly. The crowd swelled around her, and that bubble of emotion expanded almost to the breaking point.

  “The queen is coming from the West Tunnel,” a pimply teenage boy announced. “She’ll be here in a minute.”

  “She doesn’t know it’s you,” Kel whispered. “I told her I spotted someone riding a dragon. You looked familiar, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up. I figure she hasn’t had enough good surprises in her life lately.”

  Selivia blinked at the duelist, surprised at how familiarly he spoke of her sister. Who was now the queen! They had a lot of catching up to do.

  A sudden hush spread through the cavern. Then people were standing back, making way. Selivia caught a glimpse of curly hair, a dark-green dress, a familiar pair of eyes already filling with tears. And then she was running, prepared to knock over anyone who stood in her way. Her name was whispered through the crowd with excitement and wonder. But only one of the voices calling out to her mattered.

  “Sel! I-I thought I’d n-never see you again.”

  The crowds parted to reveal a familiar face, tear-streaked and glowing.

  And Selivia threw herself into her sister’s arms at last.

  28.

  Advance

  DARA breathed deeply, practicing her footwork in the early-morning light. She had camped by a stream the night before. The babble of the water was soothing, but she still slept poorly. Only the steady rhythm of her boots on the dirt could calm her thoughts.

  She would see her father today. The prospect made her more nervous than anything she had faced in the Lands Below. Over the six months since she left Vertigon, she had experienced constant peril and learned to perform unprecedented Works. She had been pushed to her physical and mental limits. She had wrestled her emotions and desires into submission, using them to tame her power. But this moment would be the hardest of them all.

  Dara and the two dragons had followed the Low Road after leaving Cindral Forest and spent days soaring over remote farms and rolling fields, searching for signs of the Fireworker army. They stayed hidden in the clouds whenever they flew over larger settlements. As they passed Roan Town, Dara caught a brief glimpse of the farmhouse where she, Vine, and Rumy had taken refuge during a thunderstorm. Even though the father, Yen, had betrayed them to Vex Rollendar, Dara bore them no ill will. She liked to think he had no choice but to sell the information to support his large family. She often thought of something Yen had said to her: Find something you love more than the power, and hold onto it with everything you have. Dara needed that advice more than ever as she prepared to come face to face with her own father.

  Her journey through the Truren wilderness took far less time than the last one. Surri couldn’t fly too fast with her belly full of Watermight, but she was still swifter than any horse. Rumy could barely keep up with the massive black wings carrying them steadily onward. Still, the grueling days and too-short nights took their toll. Dara barely had enough energy for her hundred lunges at night, and she was constantly sore from clinging to the dragon’s back. But she kept going. This was it. The final bout. The championship match. She wouldn’t ease up in the final stretch.

  Dara had practiced withdrawing the Watermight from Surri only once to make sure she could. She didn’t want to use up any more than necessary, but she wished she could train more. Training had always been her favorite way to stave off pre-competition jitters. But the time for practice had passed.

  She had seen the first hint of her father’s force two days ago. Rumy returned from a scouting expedition and chattered at her until she mounted Surri and flew high into the air to scan the distant horizon. The plains spread out beneath them like a hazy golden sea. The sun shimmered on the summer grasses, making it difficult to judge distances. But black smoke now smudged the horizon, where before there had been nothing blue sky. Something was burning out there, so that was the direction Dara flew.

  When she checked on the progress of the dark cloud the next day, there could be no mistaking the source of the smoke. Hundreds of soldiers were approaching the High Road from the northwest. They marched across the plains, gold glimmering in their midst. Wagons loaded with troughs of Fire, each accompanied by Workers on horseback, were spread at intervals throughout the army. The troughs were made of solidified Fire, ensuring that the power didn’t dissipate, as Watermight would have.

  Dara would expect the power to be depleted after the hard-won victory against Commander Brach, but the stores of Fire glowed as bright as ever. Worse, another row of heavily guarded wagons brimming with Fire awaited the army on the High Road. Dara watched them take possession of this fresh supply from afar, dread seeping into her. Vine’s Air Sensor friend had warned her about the Fire being transported through the ruins of Rallion City to refuel the Lantern Maker’s weapons, but the Vertigonians had far more than Dara expected. From the looks of things, her father had enough Firepower to take both Pendark and Soole.

  Could she match that much Fire with the Watermight Surri carried? Her father responded to power, and force may be the only way to turn the tide in this war. But what if her power wasn’t sufficient after all this time?

  Today, she would find out the answer.

  She finished her lunges and washed her face in the stream. Then she combed out her hair and braided it with care. She wished she could just march into her father’s camp without worrying what he’d think of her, but she couldn’t resist the urge to make herself presentable. She wanted to impress him even now.

  “Are you two ready for this?” she said to the dragons when she couldn’t delay any longer.

  Rumy squawked and nuzzled her knee affectionately, while Surri just snorted. Surri could communicate with Dara if they were touching, but there was a limit to the vocabulary they shared. Also, Surri didn’t suffer fools. Dara had discovered the Cindral dragon’s lack of sympathy for insecurities when she expressed her fears about the coming conflict and the dragon laid into her with a skull-rattling harangue. It was worse than traveling with Berg Doban.

  “Remember,” Dara said for probably the tenth time. “I’ll talk to him first. I don’t want to fight unless it’s absolutely necessary. He’ll see you two right away, but don’t show your Watermight or Fire until I say.”

  Surri snapped her jaws and bumped her massive snout against Dara’s arm. Dara placed a palm on Surri’s head and
immediately heard the voice that wasn’t quite a voice in her head.

  WHAT IF THEY ATTACK BEFORE YOU SPEAK?

  “My father won’t do that.” Dara brushed her fingers through Surri’s midnight-hued feathers, wishing she felt more confident about that. “He’ll be interested in you—and I don’t think he’ll kill me outright if I come in peace.”

  IF YOU SAY SO.

  Dara pretended not to hear the note of skepticism in the dragon’s words.

  Rumy squirmed between Dara and his massive counterpart and stuck his nose greedily into Dara’s hand, eager for attention even though he couldn’t communicate in the same way. She gave him a good scratch and asked for a blast of his peculiar blend of dragon flame and Fire. Rumy was more than happy to comply.

  At last, Dara straightened her sword belt and climbed onto Surri’s back. With a great flurry of muscular wings and cascading feathers, they were airborne. Her stomach lurched as they soared over the plain toward where the Vertigonian army was camped along the High Road. The Fire simmered in her blood, its familiar heat protecting her from the chill of the wind at this altitude. Her heart pounded like a hailstorm, and she knew she’d have no difficulty summoning a riot of emotion if she had to fight.

  She surveyed the landscape far below as Surri carried her toward her father. The plains to the north and west looked charred and dead. The Fireworkers had already conquered there. The south and east awaited their attentions, tinder for a deadly flame. Somewhere in the distance, Siv would be preparing his new allies to meet the Fireworker attack if Dara failed.

  I won’t fail. Not again.

  A glimmer of movement far out on the western plain caught her eye, but when she looked again, she couldn’t see anything. The land around the army was deserted, as if no one dared come near after the damage they’d already wrought. Dara wondered, briefly, where all the people had gone.