The Dragon Wakes (The Land of Fire and Ash Book 1)

by Sarah Dalton

  Karine nodded. Reva could not see the expression on her face, but she imagined her to feel as disturbed as she did, and no doubt look as pale.

  “We need both guards to go down at the same time, otherwise they will see the other being attacked and be warned. Surprise is our greatest weapon here. No one expects us to try and escape, because no prisoner has tried to escape in many years. This is our one chance, Karine. Like you said, let us live, and let us live without chains.”

  She pressed her forehead against Karine’s and then broke. The two women moved to each tower, with the rest of the prisoners touching their shoulders for support. When Reva reached the bottom of the steps, she peeked over the other prisoners’ heads and nodded to Karine.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  Reva’s grip tightened on the knife.

  Four…

  Five…

  Six…

  Seven…

  Eight…

  Nine…

  Ten…

  Could she live the rest of her life with blood on her hands?

  Fifteen…

  Sixteen…

  Seventeen…

  Eighteen…

  There was a chance she would not make it out of this alive. What if he saw her first? What if…

  Twenty-one…

  Twenty-two…

  Some of the steps creaked under her weight and the chains were always a hindrance no matter how slowly or how gingerly she moved. Yet the sound of the shouts coming from the courtyard were louder. She prayed that they drowned out her movement.

  Thirty-three…

  Thirty-four…

  She was so close now. She could smell the man’s beer. That was good. If he was drunk, she would have an easier time.

  Thirty-six…

  Thirty-seven…

  Be ready, Karine…

  Thirty-eight…

  Thirty-nine…

  He was not looking at her. That was good. She gripped the knife.

  Forty…

  He heard her. She saw him turn.

  Forty-one…

  Reva threw her weight towards the man, lucky enough to catch him off guard and send him flying. She thrust the knife up under his chin, hard enough to draw blood. With her free hand she yanked the sword from his belt and threw it down the steps. There was no time to worry about Karine, she had to hope that her friend had hit the guard as hard as she could, like Reva suggested.

  “Get off me, bitch,” the guard spat. He was young, with a pleasant, handsome face—or at least it would have been, had it not been for the large scar running across his nose and the absence of five or more teeth.

  Reva saw his hand reach up to grab her. She pushed her full weight down through her knee, driving it into his crotch. The man called out in pain, but Reva silenced him by pressing her hand over his mouth. She had to move fast if she was to get out of this alive. The easiest way would be to slit the man’s throat, but she could not bring herself to do it. Instead, she pulled some of the extra linens she had bundled into her undergarments and wrapped them around his head, creating a gag and a blindfold. Then, she turned the man onto his stomach, and bound his hands and feet. She rose, with her heartbeat running wild, and lifted her last piece of linen into the air.

  She had to wait a just few moments before she heard the grating sound of the portcullis being raised, and the barn doors opening. Reva crouched down next to the guard and let out a long sigh of relief. She wiped away forehead sweat with the back of her hand and climbed down the tower steps on unsteady legs, to be met with smiles from the prisoners. Angelica led a horse towards her.

  “You first, Raina,” the girl said.

  Reva regarded the fine, chestnut mare. “No, I must ensure your—”

  “You have earned it.”

  Angelica and Eloise lifted Reva onto the back of the mare. Because of her chains, she was forced to ride sideways, but she had learned that way back at Nesra’s Keep, and she had good balance. She took hold of the reins. The others helped Karine up next, and Lottie behind.

  Reva watched with pride as the other prisoners helped each other onto the horses and held onto one another for support. The portcullis was raised and secured. They were ready to go.

  But up ahead, the courtyard gate was opening, and the guards were filtering through.

  “We must go!” Reva called out.

  “The portcullis,” cried Oona. “I can lower it when you are gone.”

  “No!” Reva began.

  But it was Karine who kicked on their horse, sending them galloping through the gate and away from the prison.

  “Let her do it,” Karine whispered as their mare began to fly. “She will save our lives.”

  Reva glanced back at the guards running through the courtyard gate and realised that Karine was right. Then she gazed at the cattle and goats running outside the prison camp, some heading towards the Dourwood Forest, some scurrying around the enclosure towards the Tasme Mountains in the north, all scattering like beetles. The portcullis and the lost animals would keep them busy for a while. Reva and the rest of the prisoners were heading towards the forest, and then, hopefully, to the coast. Lottie knew a blacksmith outside of Monte Port who could cut away their chains.

  “The beaches,” Reva called to the women. She was not sure if they could all hear her but she was desperate to reach them. This had always been the part of the plan she had not been able to organise well, because she had not been certain whether the beginning of the plan would work. “Remember what I said. Head towards the coast and meet on the beaches. Be careful. If you are split from the group, be careful.”

  Her words were lost on the wind as the horses sprang forward. She could only hope that the others had heard her and committed her message to memory. But for now, they rode. They rode into the Dourwood Forest in complete darkness with the howling of wolves around them. The horses had to slow down to remain surefooted, but Reva was adamant that they remain on horseback. Speed was the most vital part of their escape. Oona’s sacrifice had to mean something. She thought of what Sister Valeria would do to Oona and her stomach flipped. She shook the thought away and concentrated on their task. Alis and Oona must not die for nothing.

  They rode with shouting at their back almost all night long. But they rode true, and they came out of the Dourwood Forest to see the black smoke of the storehouse fire still pouring into the morning sky. Some of the women were struggling to remain on their horses after the exhaustion of the escape.

  “We must not stop,” Reva urged. “We must be strong now more than ever.” She kicked on her steed, but not so fast as to leave the others behind. She turned back, anxious that the darkness would end up with the girls getting split up or lost in the forest. She was so sure that they were heading in a straight line. But what if they were not? What if they were heading in a circle, or worse, back towards the prison?

  Reva chewed on her lip. She wanted desperately to stop, make a fire, and curl up on the soft leaves to rest, but she could not. There would be guards following them. They had worked hard to ensure at least a slight time advantage. If they stopped to rest, they would surely lose that advantage. She squinted through the dark trees, trying to make out what lay beyond. She could not see anything. Eventually she stopped trying to see. She just carried on. On and on, not looking back, with Karine dozing on her shoulder.

  It was daybreak when Reva first saw the thinning of the trees. She nudged Karine awake, who had forgotten she was on horseback and almost slipped straight off. With a yelp, Karine grabbed hold of Reva’s waist at the last moment, almost unseating them both.

  Reva readjusted herself and pointed ahead. “Look,” Reva instructed.

  Karine followed her finger to the glimpse of sun through the trees. They had made it out of the Dourwood Forest. They had not been attacked by ghosts or wolves, they had survived this far, and Reva’s heart swelled. When they reached the edge of the forest, Reva waited for the others to catch u
p. There was little time to perform a headcount. She hoped that no one had been lost along the way. No one spoke up to say so.

  “We ride towards the cliffs,” Reva instructed. “When we get there, we have to let the horses go and climb down.”

  There was some murmuring amongst the group, but Reva did not stop to hear the women’s concerns. She rode on. She wished she could hear them out, but there was no time, and she needed to follow her plan right to the end. It was a good plan, it would work.

  “Will your blacksmith help us?” Reva whispered to Lottie.

  “He will,” Lottie said.

  Reva noticed the slight tremor in her voice and it made her nervous.

  She led the party towards the west coast of Estala, remaining close to the entrance to Dourwood. From the location of their exit from the forest, they had not taken the most direct route between the prison and the cliffs along the coast, but she hoped that galloping the horses towards the cliffs would make up for it. They merely had to ensure that they did not get too close to Hareno village, where Reva had almost been taken by Prince Stefan’s men.

  The sight of the edge of the forest was painful to Reva. It was where Ammie had been murdered. Part of her wanted to stop and find Ammie’s body, if it was still here. Had it been eaten by wolves, or stray dogs? She could not think about it. She could not stop, either. She knew that. She steeled herself and rode on.

  When they were close enough to the edge of the realm, Reva and the others dismounted and let go of their horses. Reva gave hers a hearty pat on the shoulder. The horses had served them well. They had been brave through the forest, and strong, too. Without them they would surely be captured and dragged back to the prison.

  Karine walked along the cliffs before dropping to her belly and leaning over the edge. Reva walked over to join her.

  “We take this path,” Karine said. “It’s not as steep here. We might be able to walk the first section. Then there’s that jagged face to climb across. If only we had rope.” She frowned. “We’ll need to hand holds. Then, there’s something of a path leading down to the beach. It’s narrow, but it seems safer than anywhere else.”

  Reva squeezed Karine’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Reva and Karine gathered the women in a line. Karine went first, demonstrating the tiny steps and handholds in the rock. During their late-night whisperings, Karine told her that she had spent much of her childhood living on the coast of the Sea of Kings, where she would clamber up and down the cliff to collect mussels along the shore. Reva herself had spent the first ten years of her life living on the Fiuryn Coast, but she had been a lady, and ladies were not supposed to climb cliffs. Now she wondered if she would be strong enough.

  The line of women made their way down the cliffs, with Reva taking the rear in case any of the prison guards or Sisters of the Enlightened were following. She still had the knife tucked into the waistband of her tunic. For once she was glad of the lack of boots. Through the thin footwraps she was able to feel the crevices with her toes. The rock was hard and hurt her feet, but it did not matter, all that mattered was finding a place to put her toes. And not looking down. Karine had told all the women that. Do not look down if you want to survive. Down is where Sister Valeria waits for you. Down is nothingness. Life is keeping your head up and finding a toehold. Reva followed that advice completely, never looking down, not once. And when her tired, hurt feet touched the sandy beach, something extraordinary happened. She was covered in arms. The faces of the prisoners pressed against hers. She was kissed on the cheek, and hugged tightly. Her hand was grasped and squeezed, her shoulders patted by hard hands. There were tears. And then she turned to her left, and she saw the sea.

  Luca

  “That wasn’t the foretold battle.” Geraldo shook his head. “I didn’t see it. Why didn’t I see it? That was not it.” He kicked the soil and tensed his fists, his face puce with anger and frustration. They had lost Bea, the young wolf shifter, as well as two alchemists, and the infirmary tent set up by Nico was full of injured rebels. Geraldo blamed himself. In truth, the battle could have ended much worse. They were lucky.

  Luca could not find the words to comfort him, so he remained silent. He did not think the battle was Geraldo’s fault, but he wished he could go back and convince the man to take better security measures. The rebels had been safe for years. They had wrongly presumed that their location remained a secret kept within Xantos. But it would seem that the word had reached Estala, and with Luca’s arrival in the camp… No, the blame did not lie entirely at Geraldo’s feet; it also fell on him. He had not told anyone of his true identity, and by coming here he had risked all of their lives.

  Luca pressed his hands against his knees and stared up at Zean. It was mid-afternoon and the Xanti sun baked down on the camp. Or, what was left of the camp. He was sat in the mud, but he did not care. He thought of Stefan, and what he had seen.

  Stefan was a dragon.

  He tried to piece together everything that had happened during the fight between him and his brother. Luca had taken a slight advantage during their sword fight but what came after was a blur. A hawk had attacked Stefan’s Governor and saved his life. Then, in a fit of rage, he had used his fire power to attack Stefan. That is where his reminiscence faded even further. He remembered hitting Stefan with the fire, and Stefan changing into a dragon. His fire had killed one of Stefan’s generals, but he was not sure about the Governor.

  Stefan himself had been a dragon. A great ebony dragon with orange flames. He thought of Stefan’s wings that had spread out as wide as a house, and a shiver ran down his body. Luca was not the only Menti in his family. As it turned out, Stefan was even more powerful than Luca, and had Tania not showed up when she did, Luca would most likely be dead.

  “Are you listening, boy?” Geraldo demanded. “I said that was not the battle foretold.”

  “What of it?” Luca snapped. “Does it matter? We beat them anyway. They ran away like frightened dogs.” His bravado hid the guilt churning away inside.

  “Oh, it matters,” Geraldo continued. “It matters because we’ll be facing them again, mark my words. You’ll be fighting that dragon brother of yours again.”

  Luca did not want to think about fighting the dragon again. It had been hard enough this time. The thought of facing the dragon again made his bowels want to loosen.

  “Hypocritical piece of shit,” Geraldo exclaimed. “He teams up with the Order of Insight and fights against the Menti when he’s one himself. You mark my words, a reckoning is coming. It’ll be your family against the rest of us. Your family. The ones you failed to tell us about. That’s not very trusting is it, Luca Sarinthia?”

  Luca had nothing to say, so he hung his head.

  “Trust is earned, boy. For what it is worth, I care little about your status at birth. You’re one of us now. You’ve earned that right at least, even if I like you little.”

  Luca turned to Geraldo for the first time. His words had surprised him.

  “Now be gone. Go and help that pudgy son of mine to tend to the wounded.” Geraldo made a gesture akin to shooing away an annoying dog.

  Luca did not linger. He made his way to Nico’s infirmary, where he was healing as many of the wounded as he could. The tent had been hit with fire arrows during the battle, leaving scorch marks on the torn canvas. The camp had worked hard to put out the fires, starting with Nico’s makeshift infirmary so that the wounded were safe.

  “What can I do?” Luca asked.

  “Those soldiers need their dressings changed,” Nico instructed. “The bandages are on the table over there.” Nico wiped sweat from his forehead. The boy was pale and his hands were trembling.

  “You need to rest,” Luca said. “You have used too much of your power.”

  Nico shook his head. “I have to help them.”

  Luca’s gaze travelled across the tent. Every space was filled with wounded—of both Menti and Stefan’s soldiers—helpers, like Tania and Win, or equipment l
ike bandages and ointments. In the tent across the camp, the Menti alchemists were brewing healing potions.

  “You cannot help them if you make yourself sick,” Luca reminded him. “And I think you are exhausted enough to be unwell. Take an hour. Take two. Sleep. I will look after the wounded.”

  Nico frowned, but Luca saw that the boy was heeding his words. He handed Luca a damp cloth and made his way out of the tent.

  “I’ve been telling him the same thing for hours but he doesn’t listen to me,” Tania said. Her dark skin had taken on a slight grey colour. She was tired, too, but seemed to be holding up better than Nico. “The kid’s as stubborn as his father.”

  Luca collected bandages to take to the wounded soldiers. He smiled briefly at Tania and was about to continue on with his work when he stopped instead. “Thank you.”

  Tania’s eyes dropped to the ground. “It was nothing.”

  “You saved my life,” Luca said.

  “It was nothing.”

  “You were the fiercest fighter out there,” Luca continued. “I never knew that water could be so deadly.”

  Tania’s eyes flashed and she shot him a mischievous grin. “Oh, you would be surprised.”

  As Tania’s eyes found him, Luca felt a flush of heat work its way up his body again. He dropped his gaze and turned to tend to the soldier. He busied himself with treating the wound rather than thinking of Tania. His reaction to her gaze and her touch frightened him. It was as though the more he knew of Tania the less he thought of Reva, and he did not like that. Ever since he was a boy, Reva was his love. She was his intended, and then she was the one thing he wanted but could not have. He had even thought of her when he lay on his deathbed in Nesra’s Keep months ago. It seemed even longer. So much had happened, so much had changed, that it seemed a lifetime ago. Matias, he thought, with some pain. He longed for his brother to see him now. He longed to share these thoughts with Matias.