Night of Flame (Steel and Fire Book 5)

by Jordan Rivet

Latch joined her a second later, moving slowly on his damaged leg. “I kept a little power back,” he said. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  “Can you get Mav’s attention? I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Latch gave her a level look, his eyes searching her face for a brief, intense moment. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, Princess.”

  Selivia grinned at him. Latch Brach. The foreign lord she’d arranged to marry. He seemed a little dour, but she had a feeling she was going to like him. Right now, though, Selivia had more important things to worry about. She wouldn’t let Dara down.

  “Let’s see what you can do.”

  37.

  The Army

  SIV fought as he had never fought before. Instead of enemy swordsmen, he fought the darkness and the flames. The true dragons had laid waste to his force before he had a chance to launch a proper defense. After Dara’s departure, he assembled the surviving men and dragons from the massacre at the riverbank and led them into the woods, hoping to reach the Vertigonian army on the Fissure Road. Siv couldn’t count on Dara and Latch’s quick return. Without their magic, his only hope was his sword—used mostly for hacking at the undergrowth—and the men at his side. They fought their way through the trees, by turns black with soot and glowing red. The smell of charred flesh lay heavy on them, and their strength was fading.

  “This way!” Siv’s voice rasped from calling out again and again in the darkness. “We’re almost there.”

  “We’re with you, Your Majesty.” Telvin Jale was stalwart at his side. The damn soldier was proving to be as noble as ever. Captain Lian was with him too, though a mere handful of his men had survived.

  “Head count?” Siv asked.

  “Twenty-three men and two dragons,” Lian replied. “There’s at least one other group in the woods.”

  “One of us has to get through,” Siv said. “Damn it. Can’t go that way.” They came upon another patch of wildfire. The flames from the feuding dragons spread quickly, catching in the summer-dry trees. Smoke filled the air, confusing their senses. Siv feared they’d gotten turned around while avoiding the latest inferno. But he couldn’t let his men see his concern. “Here!” he called. “We can get through this way.”

  The men followed, coughing and wheezing in the ever-thickening smoke. They held onto their swords, more talismans than weapons now. They were frustratingly ineffectual. What use was steel against true dragon Fire? Two of the Soolen Waterworkers supplied by Prince Chadrech were with him, but they had long since exhausted what little power they had salvaged at the riverbank. The two Cindral dragons, one with speckled gold and brown feathers like a hawk’s and the other a dull rose, were even more frightened than the men. Their huge eyes rolled in their elongated heads, and they were losing feathers at an alarming rate.

  Siv pushed to the edge of another grove of trees, pausing to study the sky. The true dragons had picked off several of their number, swooping out of nowhere and carrying them off to their deaths. He thought he saw an open space ahead, hard-packed with dirt and exposed to the air.

  “That’s the road!” he called, praying it wasn’t his imagination. “We’re going to make it!”

  The men surged forward, following his lead. Mercifully, his guess turned out to be correct. He broke through the trees onto the road first, unwilling to send any more men into the jaws of death if the dragons were waiting above it.

  The Fissure Road was empty, but fresh boot prints suggested the army had come this far. Siv and Telvin exchanged strained smiles. They left their two Cindral dragons and a dozen men led by Captain Lian just inside the tree line to avoid alarming the Vertigonians and hurried across to the other side of the woods, where the army should be waiting.

  Siv, Telvin, and the remaining men found the Vertigonians hidden deep in the trees, their camp still untouched by the wildfire spreading between the river and the road. The sentries had seen them coming, and General Pavorran met them at the edge of camp.

  “So you’re alive,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Happy to see you too, General.” Pavorran had never approved of Siv’s conduct as king. Even if he hadn’t been a direct participant in the coup—a definite possibility—he hadn’t objected to the change in leadership. Siv’s earlier fear that his own army might not want him reared its head again.

  “Where’s the Lantern Maker?” he asked.

  “His daughter sent him on an errand.” General Pavorran’s mouth twisted, as if he didn’t approve of this arrangement. “He has not returned.”

  More Vertigonian soldiers emerged from the trees, weapons drawn. The marauding dragons obviously hadn’t come anywhere near them. Why hadn’t the true dragons attacked the army at their gates when they’d dealt so soundly with Siv’s party by the river? Had the true dragons somehow sensed the Watermight reserve, or had the Cindral dragons’ encroachment on their territory drawn their ire?

  “How many men do you have?” he asked.

  “Two thousand two hundred and seventy-three soldiers,” General Pavorran said. “Plus approximately five hundred prisoners.”

  Siv blinked. “Prisoners?”

  “Trurens, mostly,” General Pavorran said.

  “They attacked us on the day Dara joined us,” Telvin added when the general didn’t elaborate.

  “And you managed to capture over five hundred of them?”

  “We captured all of them.”

  “All?”

  Telvin nodded crisply. “Around five hundred Trurens from all over the plains tried to drive us out of their land. There were a few Soolens as well. We have every single one in custody.”

  Siv felt slightly stupid that this still wasn’t making sense to him. He looked closer at the general. “They attacked a force that outnumbered them by more than four to one?”

  “Correct.”

  “And then you captured all of them?”

  “Yes.”

  Siv waited. General Pavorran stared him down. He clearly wasn’t interested in welcoming Siv back. But a few of the men nodded at him. A man called Hirram who used to be a servant for Lord Zurren even offered a discreet salute. So some of the Vertigonians were still loyal. Would they take his side if Pavorran rejected him?

  The general spoke at last. “The victory was all Miss Ruminor’s work,” he said. “I understand you are allied with her?”

  “That’s correct.” Some might have said Dara served or followed him, but General Pavorran had chosen the term ally for a reason. Dara had as much power as Siv now—if not more—especially in the eyes of these men.

  “She overpowered her father and captured the advancing force without losing any soldiers.” General Pavorran paused then said, “It was remarkable.”

  “Dara is special,” Siv said.

  General Pavorran gave a grim nod. “If she supports your return to the throne, King Sivarrion, then I support it.”

  Siv’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s good to hear.” He gestured to the others. “These men have helped me immensely. I want their wounds treated at once. You’ll also find a pair of dragons waiting back by the road, the ones with feathers. They cannot breathe Fire. See to it that they’re protected.”

  “Yes, my king.” General Pavorran snapped his fingers, and his men hurried to obey.

  “Where are these prisoners now?”

  “We have them divided into groups spread throughout our camp.”

  “Take me to them.”

  Siv and the general made their way deeper into the encampment. At the center of a clearing, a group of men and women sat cross-legged, swaying as if caught in a breeze. The Vertigonian guards watched them uncertainly, but they didn’t interfere.

  “What’s going on?” General Pavorran demanded. “How long have they been like this?”

  “It started when we spotted the dragons,” said a nearby officer. Siv realized with a start that it was Lord Zurren, looking considerably more grimy and subdued than the last time Siv had seen him. “They all sat down and told us
not to disturb their concentration.”

  “And you obeyed?” General Pavorran said incredulously.

  “They weren’t doing any harm, and we had bigger things to worry about with the dragons approaching, my lord general, sir.”

  General Pavorran looked as though he were trying to force his own eyeballs out of his head. It was probably the most expression his face had ever displayed. Before he could explode, a Vertigonian soldier hurried up beside Lord Zurren—Errol Feln, a former member of Siv’s Castle Guard.

  “They’re shielding us, General Pavorran!” Errol said. “I can’t explain it, sir, but they’re doing something with the Air. The dragons don’t even know we’re here, near as I can tell.”

  “What are you blathering about?”

  “A few dragons came right at this clearing, sir, but they just flew around above it for a bit then headed off to join the rest. It was like they couldn’t see us.”

  “Couldn’t see you,” General Pavorran said, his voice flat.

  “I believe it,” Siv said. “I’ve seen some crazy things in the past year. Leave them be, and tell me when one of the Sensors can talk to me.”

  Errol jumped, apparently just realizing who was here. “Yes, King Siv! Of course, King Siv!”

  He bowed deeply and darted off, completely forgetting to salute General Pavorran. Word of Siv’s return would spread quickly. He knew he’d have to win the trust of these men. General Pavorran wouldn’t be the only one skeptical of his right to rule.

  “Right,” Siv said. “I need a full report on your remaining resources. And then we need—”

  “Pardon me, Your Majesty,” called a feminine voice from the group of Trurens. “I may be able to answer your questions about the Sensors.”

  Siv recognized the girl standing up from among the prisoners as Zala Toven, his sister Selivia’s handmaiden from the Far Plains who had been hired to teach her the Far Plains language. Later, she had helped Selivia flee the Stronghold in advance of Commander Brach’s attack.

  “What are you doing here, Zala?” Siv asked.

  “I was with the group that attacked the Vertigonians,” Zala said. “We wanted to make sure they never returned to our lands.”

  A few of the Vertigonians grumbled darkly. Zala ignored them.

  “We were outmatched,” she said. “We have never seen anything like what Dara did to contain us.” She nodded at the Sensors sitting on the ground. “We have spent our journey drawing in as much Air as we possibly could from the surrounding regions. We hoped to break away while Dara was occupied. We appreciate that she didn’t kill us, but we won’t be enslaved either.”

  Telvin looked up indignantly. “No one was planning to enslave—”

  “Let her finish,” Siv said. “So you’ve been gathering Air. Is that why we haven’t been able to communicate as easily over the past few days?”

  “That’s correct. Every Sensor among us has been pleading with the Air to draw near to help us. When the true dragons attacked, they used the Air reserve to mask us from their gaze. We cloaked the entire force—soldiers and prisoners both.”

  Zala met Siv’s eyes steadily, holding herself with the dignity of a royal ambassador. He suspected Zala Toven was much more than a language tutor.

  “You shielded the army holding you captive?” he said.

  “Dara Ruminor had mercy on us,” Zala said simply. “Our Air will last a few days more. After that, the dragons will be able to see us again.”

  “I understand,” Siv said.

  A Far Plains boy the same age as Zala leapt up to whisper something in her ear. “I was getting to that, Ivran,” she hissed. She turned back to Siv. “We want our freedom in exchange for our help against the true dragons, of course.”

  “And what will you do if we release you?”

  “We will return to our lands. We will not retaliate against Soole and Vertigon for their aggressions if you swear to leave us in peace,” Zala said. “Princess Selivia is my friend. We believe restoring her family to the throne of Vertigon is the best way to ensure harmony. I hope that is Dara Ruminor’s intention as well.”

  Siv inclined his head. Dara was capable of sweeping up whole armies, and others clearly recognized how much sway she would have over the future of this land. He thought she still intended for him to retake the throne.

  “I believe we all want peace,” he said. “But we have to deal with the dragons first. Please continue your good work here. You will have the assurances you desire when it’s all over.”

  Zala returned to her people, who continued to sway and sigh under the influence of the Air they had gathered. Siv wondered if the Air could offer more than just protection. Speaking of which, where on earth was Vine Silltine? He hadn’t seen her since the attack began, but he’d need her expertise to make use of this resource. And he needed Dara back. It had been hours since she went after Latch. What was taking so long? And what would happen if the Lantern Maker returned from his errand before she did?

  He tried to shake off his worries and focused on assuming control of his army. Whatever happened next, he was back in charge of the Vertigonians at last.

  Sora watched a black dragon soar directly overhead. It wasn’t one they had catalogued. She hadn’t realized how many dragons infested the mountain now until they swarmed through the Fissure and engaged in a furious battle somewhere downriver. Flashes of Fire and the screams of men and beasts had echoed back up the canyon to where Sora and her people hid. Someone had come to help them, but they hadn’t stood a chance against the monsters.

  The true dragons had begun to make their way back to the peaks now. Sora stopped counting them after the seventeenth dragon flew past. But the black shadow crossing overhead now was going in the opposite direction from the rest: away from the mountain. It stayed low to the trees, as if to escape notice of the dragons returning from battle.

  Sora held her breath until it was a safe distance from her hiding place then continued her careful journey through the trees. She and Kel were leading whoever was well enough toward the site of the battle to help any survivors. It was too dark to see much, so she listened for confirmation that the others had resumed walking, the rush of the river not quite muting their footsteps. They were spread out in a line on their side of the Oakwind like a great net ready to catch stragglers. A faint glow ahead hinted at the fires blazing in the mouth of the Fissure, which likely meant any survivors would be heading their way.

  Sora’s heart pounded as she crept through the darkness, afraid the true dragons would return to finish what they started. She clutched a knife in her sweaty palm. It would do little good if one of the creatures snatched her up, but at least she would be armed.

  Something moved up ahead, and she froze. A dark shape was taking slow, prowling steps toward her. It sounded too small to be a dragon, but there were other creatures out here. Could it be a cullmoran whose nest had been disturbed by the wildfires? She tightened her grip on her knife.

  The shape moved again, giving the impression of something very large and hulking. A bear perhaps? The native animals must be frantic with fear over the fire and the dragons terrorizing their homes. But a frightened animal was a dangerous one.

  Sora looked around for her companions. She’d lost track of the line while she hid from the black dragon passing overhead. The bearish shape drew nearer. Her hands trembled, and her pulse sounded loud in her ears.

  Then the shadows shifted, and the silhouette suddenly made complete sense. Sora tucked her knife into her belt and darted forward to fling her arms around Berg Doban’s neck.

  “You’re here!” Sora said. “Did you find Siv? Is he all right?”

  Berg grunted in surprise and patted her awkwardly on the back. “Gently, please, my queen.”

  “Are you injured?” Sora released him, studying his face anxiously.

  “It is from a few weeks past,” Berg said. “Those dragons are not catching me.”

  “I’m so glad to see you.”

  �
�I am feeling the same,” Berg said. “Your brother is here now also.”

  “S-Siv is back?” Sora had all but given up on seeing her brother again. She knew Selivia had been communicating with him, but she hadn’t dared hope that he himself had arrived at the mouth of the Fissure.

  “He is okay so far as I know,” Berg said. “I saw him run to the trees on the other side of the river. I . . . swam for safety.” Berg rolled his heavy shoulders, as if the swimming had been far more traumatic than being attacked by true dragons.

  “Is anyone else with you?”

  “Yes, my queen.” He turned around to scan the darkness then raised a hand in greeting. “They are coming now.”

  The first person to emerge from the trees was Vine Silltine. The young noblewoman looked somewhat the worse for wear after swimming across the Oakwind. Her long dark hair hung limply around her shoulders, and her green riding clothes looked black with mud. She clutched Sora’s hand tightly.

  “Queen Sora, how delightful,” she trilled. “I wish we had more time to catch up, but I must find a spot to concentrate. I felt the most magnificent sensation in the Air during the battle.”

  “The Air?” Sora gasped. “You know a lot of the Air?”

  “It has granted me the gift of knowledge from time to time,” Vine said. “Why do you ask?”

  “Madame Ruminor thinks the Air can help us actually use Fire against the true dragons.”

  “Madame Ruminor?”

  Sora started as a man with sandy hair and fine features stepped up beside Vine. It was Lord Vex Rollendar, of all people. Sora hadn’t expected any of the Rollendar brothers to show their faces in Vertigon again.

  “Yes,” Sora said warily. “She’s survived this far. She might prove it was actually worth saving her life.”

  The look on Vex’s face suggested he didn’t agree, though Sora wasn’t sure what issue the youngest Rollendar lord had with Lima specifically.

  “Let us return to her quickly,” Vine said, patting Lord Vex absently on the chest. “Then I must reach out to the others. Those dragons are sure to attack again.”