by Jordan Rivet
“Princess!” he exclaimed, taking her hands in both of his. “We were so worried you didn’t make it.”
“Hello, my lord.” Selivia blinked back tears at the sight of his kind face. She had been so afraid he hadn’t survived this long either. “I was hiding over in King’s Arena. I have not been able to—”
“Sel!” A vision in a pink dress barreled into them, hugging Selivia so fiercely she was afraid she’d pop.
“Jully!” Selivia returned her friend’s hug enthusiastically. “I missed you so much.”
“You must have been having such adventures,” Jully gushed. “Wait until I tell you what we’ve been up to. We turned spy and helped—”
“Perhaps the little princess would like to breathe,” Lord Silltine said with a chuckle.
“Oh, sorry.” Jully released Selivia and hopped excitedly beside her. Other survivors were beginning to crowd into the entryway of the greathouse. Selivia didn’t recognize most of them, but they were a welcome sight after encountering no one but dragons for three days.
“Did you meet any handsome princes on your journey?” Jully demanded, still bouncing up and down. “Did you hear about your sister and Kelad Korran? Did you—?”
“There’s no time for that now,” Selivia said. “We have to . . . Wait. What about Sora and Kelad Korran?”
Lord Silltine cleared his throat with a grumble.
“Tell me later,” Selivia said. “The true dragons are fighting in the mouth of the Fissure! We have to escape while they’re busy.”
Jully’s eyes widened. “But what if they come back?”
“This might be our only chance,” Selivia said. “How many people are hiding here?”
“Twelve,” Lord Silltine said, “But most are elderly or injured. We need a lot of time to make our way down. Do you think we have it?”
Selivia hesitated, looking around at the group in the entryway. Toff the butler was there. Old Lady Farrow leaned on the shoulder of a boy with a bandage around his ankle. A woman with a brand new baby clutched the little bundle tightly to her chest. Lord Silltine himself had trembling knees, and his eyes were cloudy.
“We can’t stay here forever,” Selivia said. “Let’s see what they’re doing now.”
“Come to the balcony,” Jully said, grabbing her hand. “It has the most magnificent view.”
Selivia followed Jully up a nearby staircase. Deep shadows covered most of the elegant balcony. Hoping not to attract the attention of any stray dragons, they crept to the edge and leaned out over the railing, straining to see through the gloom and the distant flashes of light.
Suddenly, a great shape loomed in the Fissure. Moonlight glimmered on wings and scales.
“Blast,” Selivia said. “They’re coming back already.”
“Let’s get inside,” Jully said nervously. “You can stay with us now. We’re—”
“Wait!” Selivia leaned farther over the railing. It was difficult to tell in the muted light, but the great beast flying toward her had a definite green tint. Was it Mav? He appeared to be alone. She squinted at a strange shape hanging from the dragon’s talons. She wished for a spurt of Fire so she could see better. She was pretty sure it was a man.
“It’s carrying something,” Selivia said.
“A body?” Jully whispered.
“I don’t think so. He seems to be kicking a lot.” Selivia was certain the dragon was Mav now, but she couldn’t see the man he was carrying very well.
Suddenly, a jet of silver as thin as a razor blade shot upward from the struggling figure just as Mav soared over a nearby slope. The dragon jolted in surprise, releasing his clawed grip. The man fell from Mav’s grasp, hit the ground, and immediately rolled to his feet. Silver glinted at his hands as he started limping for cover.
“He’s a Waterworker!” Selivia said. “Quick! We have to help him!”
Jully gaped at Selivia as she bolted for the door. Mav may have brought that man back to King’s Peak as a snack, but she didn’t want anyone to get eaten on her watch. She had to catch the stranger before the true dragon did.
Dara and Surri weren’t far behind the true dragon, so she had a good view when Latch attacked it from below. The dragon clearly didn’t expect a blast of Watermight in its nether regions, and it dropped its captive onto a cobblestone square. Latch timed it just right so he didn’t have far to fall.
Still, when he rolled to his feet, he was limping. He hobbled for the edge of the square, seeking shelter before the dragon picked him up again—or decided it was tired of messing around and burned him to a crisp.
Dara urged Surri to go faster—and received a wordless retort about how she was already flying as fast as she could. Dara held her breath. They had to reach Latch, or their frantic chase up the Fissure would be for nothing.
The big green true dragon wheeled around, preparing to dive at his escaped prisoner. Then he caught sight of Dara and Surri. He pulled up abruptly, wings flaring, and a roar shattered the night. Then he blasted a huge fountain of Fire at his pursuers.
Surri pulled up sharply, and Dara absorbed as much of the Fire attack as she could hold. This dragon was bigger than the purple one they fought earlier, and the power it exhaled was immense. Her bones creaked ominously as she filled to bursting with Fire. All she needed now was the Watermight Latch carried to smash the true dragon out of the air.
But Latch had disappeared. The cobblestone square was empty. Blast. She couldn’t just throw this Fire back at the true dragon without adding Watermight. She had no way to fight the green dragon as it swooped around for another attack.
Surri grasped the situation at once and dove, her belly pressing close to the slope as she retreated from the larger creature. The green true dragon wasn’t quite as agile as Surri, so she led it on a frantic chase around the mountain, weaving in and out of the last remaining bridges, forcing it to constantly change directions. She was trying to tire it out, but Dara feared they’d crash into the mountainside with every dodge and dive.
HAVE A LITTLE FAITH.
Surri changed directions yet again and sped across Orchard Gorge to Village Peak. Scenes of destruction flashed beneath her wings. Dara couldn’t believe the creatures had done so much damage to her home. Stone Market was nothing but a crumbling, scorched edifice. The goat paths that used to meander between teetering buildings and beneath porches were exposed like damaged veins. They flew a little higher, coming closer to the old Ruminor dwelling with every beat of Surri’s wings.
Dara searched the mountainside, but she saw no sign of the porch where she used to sit and chat with her mother when times were good. She couldn’t see the house where she and Renna had grown up or the workshop where her father had created his famous Fire Lanterns. All that remained of the Ruminor dwelling was an exposed tunnel, covered in vicious scratches and scorch marks. It looked as if the true dragons had tried to scratch and claw their way into the Fireshop like povvercats digging into a morrinvole burrow.
The true dragons craved the Fire. It would never defeat them. She needed that Watermight.
“We have to go back!” Dara shouted to Surri, using the tenuous bond between them to compel her to obey. “Find Latch.”
Surri shrieked as if she were a duelist struggling to get the final hit. Then she made a sharp turn. Dara clung to her neck, almost losing her seat at last. They crossed back over the Gorge. Fell Bridge was still intact beneath them, and Surri followed its line, zooming up and down as the green true dragon tried to catch her. At the last moment, Surri dove into the Gorge and flipped all the way around. She came upright again directly behind the other dragon.
The huge animal couldn’t adjust quickly enough and crashed into the cliff, knocking stones loose from the mountain. It roared in frustration, wings spread wide as it tried to regain balance. While the true dragon was occupied, Surri sped away toward the square where they last saw Latch.
Dara scanned the darkened slopes. Latch must be hiding, not aware she was on the back of th
e black dragon streaking toward him.
“Come on, Latch. Where are you?”
YOU HAVE OTHER TOOLS.
Dara started. Despite her desperate flight, the Cindral dragon was more focused than she was at the moment. Dara closed her eyes and felt for hints of Watermight in the vicinity. With the Fire blazing through her, she was especially sensitive to it. Latch wouldn’t elude her for long. She felt a tingling sensation, like ice on the back of her neck.
“There!” Dara called. “That greathouse on the eastern slope!”
Surri didn’t need to be told twice. She descended once more.
Selivia reached the square as the man who had fallen from Mav’s claws limped toward safety. He was a well-dressed young fellow with the smooth, dark skin of the southern Lands Below. He wore a familiar uniform. What was a Soolen soldier doing here?
“Hey!” she called from the alleyway where she had taken shelter. “Over here!”
The man hobbled toward her as quickly as his injured leg would carry him. Meanwhile, Mav had turned away, distracted by the approach of another dragon. In a blast of Firelight, she saw that it was small, as black as coal, and it had the feathers she had first seen on the dragons with Commander Brach’s army. A Cindral dragon and a Soolen soldier? Hope flared in her chest.
“Do you have somewhere to hide?” the man said as he joined her in the alley. “We’re exposed here.”
“Yes, come with me,” Selivia said. “Oh dear, you’re injured. Let me help you to—”
“I’m fine,” the soldier grunted.
“I can—”
“It’s just a sprain. And I aggravated a recent injury.”
Selivia couldn’t tell if the gruffness in his voice was due to pain or if he always sounded like that, but she wasn’t going to put up with it. She put her hands on her hips and glared up at the man, whose features were indistinct in the shadows.
“Don’t take that macho tone with me,” she snapped. “Let me help you unless you want that dragon to eat us both.”
The soldier gaped at her for a minute then obediently slung his arm over her shoulder. She helped him hobble back toward Eastwind Street. He relied heavily on her assistance, occasionally grunting in pain if they moved too fast. The soldier smelled like smoke and sweat, but with something nice underneath, like fresh pine and a scent that made her think of ice.
“Where did you come from?” she asked. “We saw the true dragons fighting. Are there more soldiers?”
“We’re here to help, my lady,” the soldier said. “We brought Watermight and dragons from Cindral Forest. Your friends here didn’t like that too much.”
“Were you with my brother?” Selivia asked eagerly. “Is he all right?”
“Your bro—?”
“Sel! Are you crazy? You shouldn’t run off like that!”
Jully burst out of the doors of House Silltine with several others in tow. They rushed to help Selivia and her rescued soldier, all scolding her like mother furlingbirds.
“His leg is hurt,” Selivia said, not relinquishing her spot at her charge’s side. “I had to do something.”
“I’ll be okay,” the soldier said gruffly.
They were ushered through the doors and into the greathouse sitting room, where a steaming pot of water and piles of bandages waited for them. Selivia got her first good look at the soldier in the light of the antique Fire Lantern hanging from the ceiling. He was young and very handsome, with broad, strong shoulders and the loveliest brown eyes. She blushed at the thought that his arm had been wrapped around her a moment ago, and she hadn’t even known how good-looking he was. Despite the hubbub around them, he kept looking at her as if he knew something special about her.
Lord Silltine directed the setting of the soldier’s ankle and the cleaning of an older wound in his thigh, which had broken open when he dropped into the square.
“Can you tell us of the battle?” Lord Silltine asked. “Who has come to challenge the dragons?”
The soldier locked eyes with Selivia when he answered. “I traveled here with King Sivarrion Amintelle, a small group of fighting men, and fifteen dragons from Cindral Forest. All of the dragons carried Watermight, but we lost most of it when those big Fire dragons attacked our party.”
“And the king?” Lord Silltine asked.
“Still alive when I got snatched up.”
Selivia frowned. “Why did Mav—the dragon—only grab you?”
“I think it sensed I was collecting the Watermight the Cindral dragons dropped while defending themselves.”
“You’re still holding Watermight now?” Lord Silltine said abruptly. He glanced at the window, his face going a little gray.
“I am.”
“Can you fight with it?” Selivia asked, remembering the other Soolen soldiers she’d seen wielding Watermight in the Far Plains.
“Everyone in my family can,” the soldier said.
“Just what we need!” Selivia moved closer to his side. “Do you think—”
“Dragon approaching!” shouted Toff the butler, who had been keeping watch upstairs. “It’s heading right for us!”
“Probably sensed that power you’re carrying,” Lord Silltine said grimly.
Selivia exchanged a fleeting look with the handsome soldier and then left his side to dart up the stairs. She hoped the approaching dragon would be Mav, whom she might still have some influence over, though she was less certain of that with each tick of the clock. What if Lord Silltine was right, and she had attracted the wrath of the true dragons by helping the handsome stranger?
She heard a loud thud as she reached the top of the steps, where Toff crouched in the shadows. A dragon had alighted on the balcony. But instead of her green-and-black friend, it was the smaller night-black Cindral dragon she had seen earlier. A ball of glowing light appeared out of nowhere, and the beautiful feathered wings shifted aside to reveal Dara Ruminor sitting on its back.
“Dara!” Selivia burst onto the balcony before Toff could stop her. “You’re back! You have a dragon!”
“Selivia?” Dara said. “What are you—never mind. There’s no time. Is Latch Brach in there with you? I need him.”
Selivia’s jaw went slack. “Latch Brach?” Did Dara mean Latch Brach, her betrothed?
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and the handsome soldier appeared at her side.
“I’m here, Dara,” he said. “Ready for the Watermight?”
“As quick as you can,” Dara said. “That beast will catch up any second. I’m going to knock him out of the sky.”
Without hesitating, the soldier—Latch—lifted both hands, and a silver-white film appeared over his beautiful brown eyes. He appeared to be concentrating very hard. Selivia gasped as a silvery rim appeared at the tips of his fingers, and streams of silvery Watermight flooded out of them and curled through the darkness toward Dara. Incredibly, she opened her mouth and began swallowing the substance like water from a fountain.
Selivia was so transfixed by the power transfer that she almost didn’t register what Dara had said.
“Wait!” she said. “You can’t kill the lead dragon. He’s my friend.”
“That big green monster?” Latch said.
“He has been through a lot,” Selivia said defensively. “But he controls the other dragons, and I’m trying to get him to leave on his own.”
“How?” Latch said. “By asking nicely?”
“Oh, like fighting them is working out so well,” Selivia snapped.
“Sel, the dragons are killing our men down there,” Dara said. “I don’t even know if Siv is—”
“Don’t say that,” Selivia said.
“We have to fight them.” Dara’s fingers tightened in the feathers lining her mount’s back. “Unless you can control that dragon directly, I have to kill it.”
Selivia wished she could make them understand. She didn’t want to lose Mav, however tenuous their friendship had been. Killing him wasn’t fair after everything he’d been th
rough since the Sensors woke him.
“The Sensors!” Selivia said suddenly. “They called him. Air Sensors used to control the ancient true dragons. There has to be a way to send them away without slaughtering them.”
Dara hesitated. “We have some Far Plains Sensors, but they’re sort of my prisoners.”
Selivia blinked. “Why?”
“They attacked—it doesn’t matter right now. Do you have any idea how it works? I can do things with the Air,”—Dara grimaced as if the statement caused her physical pain—“when it grants my requests.”
“I don’t know exactly,” Selivia said. “Let me talk to the green dragon before you fight him. He listens to me.”
Dara met her gaze for one swift second, then Latch’s. His eyes were clear of the silvery film now. Dara, on the other hand, seemed to be shivering, as if caught in a stiff wind no one else could see. That must be all the Watermight she had just swallowed. And she was clearly holding Fire too. Selivia was amazed she could even carry on a conversation.
“Please,” Selivia said. “Don’t kill him. I’ll ask him to leave you alone.”
The black Cindral dragon tossed its head, eyes glinting. Dara pressed her hands into its side and went still, almost as if she was listening to something.
“Fine,” Dara said at last. “I’ll go help Siv and the others with this power. Is it okay if I kill or drive off the other dragons attacking us out there?”
“Oh yes,” Selivia said. “You can get rid of all of them.”
“Good.” Dara looked over her shoulder. A flare of light lit up the darkness, outlining a huge shadow. Mav was almost to them. “I’m making a run for it. It’s now or never, Sel. Good luck.”
And then Dara was gone, soaring into the darkness on the back of her strange black dragon. Selivia ran to the balcony rail as she disappeared into the night.
