The drakon roared. It zeroed in on the smaller ships first, pounding their hulls, tilting them against the waves and rolling the men into the water. Its powerful wings sent tsunami-like splashes of toxic water onto the ships’ decks. The drakon used the black ocean as a weapon. The frigates swayed and bobbed, and soon toppled over. The black ocean became thick with smoke.
Nat watched as the drakon dove beneath the dark water, disappearing into the depths only to emerge a moment later beneath one of the ships—lifting it up above the waves and breaking it in half as if it were a child’s toy. With a mighty screech, it grasped another ship and tossed it high into the air. When it fell, it slammed it into another boat, sinking them both.
The surviving soldiers beat a retreat into their lifeboats, and other ships begin to follow.
We’ve won, Nat thought, as the armada scattered and ships began to turn away from the green island. But a fresh volley of gunfire exploded from the two massive supercarriers. Their guns fired in elaborate patterns, guided by computers that tracked, plotted, and anticipated the creature’s course as it dove and wound through the sky.
Hide, hide, Nat sent urgently, and the drakon rose upward, its ashen underbelly blending with the dark clouds. But the gunfire continued its relentless rhythm. Red and orange flares sparked through the smoke.
The drakon was nowhere to be seen.
Nat panicked until the creature reemerged. The clouds disappeared into steam as flames shot down from the sky, dissolving the fog like mist meeting the morning sun. The drakon’s fire lit the dark ocean with a light that the black water had not seen in a hundred years.
Its flame as bright-white as day, its wings tucked behind its back, the drakon descended like a bomb towards the middle of the nearest destroyer. Its fire engulfed the ship, and the air reeked of burnt plastic and molten steel. The ship collapsed into the waves, its hull crumpling like twigs before flame.
Another supercarrier released an array of missiles directly at the drakon. The creature rolled away, but the ship’s guns met their mark. A rocket shell tore the drakon’s wing and the clouds glowed a fiery red once more.
Down below, Nat collapsed on the deck.
50
“HIT! I’M HIT!” SHE WHISPERED, holding her arm.
“Nat!”
Wes was by her side. “Nat!”
“The guns! You have to stop their guns!” she told him.
“Right—what was I thinking—just waiting for you guys to save our skins—Shakes! Farouk! Roark! Brendon! The guns!”
They’d never match the naval firepower, but Wes guessed they wouldn’t have to. Not with that thing—Nat’s drakon—on their side. A few of the remaining ships had open gunners on their decks. The soldiers sat behind heavy artillery shields, but he could still see glimpses of them as they trained and rotated their guns to follow the creature.
Wes grabbed his sniper’s rifle and climbed to the highest point of his ship. He motioned to Shakes. “Hold my leg and try to steady me; I need to get a clear shot at these guys.”
“But, boss, you’d be totally exposed.”
Wes knew he was right, the gunners were distracted by the drakon, but as soon as he fired, they’d turn their attention to him and he’d be a sitting duck. But he needed the height to get a clear shot and he’d just have to take his chances afterward.
Wes turned to his targets. He aimed low on the first shot and put a bullet through the hand of the first gunner. The second gunner spun toward Wes. He was manning a gun big enough to obliterate anything within a yard of him. The soldier smiled at Wes, wanting to let him know he was going to enjoy cutting him into shreds.
But Wes didn’t respond; instead he fired, and the bullet pierced the man’s armor before he could reach for the trigger. There’s always just a fraction of a second between life and death, Wes thought. Take every second you can.
With the sky cleared of gunfire, the drakon reappeared beside Alby. Its wing had healed, and it was beating glorious waves of air as it hovered above the water, its torso casting a jagged shadow before it descended to the deck.
The ship tilted as it received the creature’s weight. The drone of battle faded, and for a moment the crew stood, captivated by the drakon.
Its breath was like a whirlwind, raspy and strong like a hundred men sucking in air at once. Deck plates buckled and screws unwound from their fastenings—the creature was as heavy as stone. It drew in its mighty wings and lowered its head with a thud that shook the deck.
* * *
Nat knew what came next; she just needed the nerve to go through with it. The moment was surreal and stretched for what felt like minutes. She looked at the crew, who smiled at her hopefully. Liannan nodded, and Wes was the one who offered his knee for her to step on, to climb.
He took her hand and hoisted her up. “Give them hell,” he whispered in her ear, his eyes shining with admiration.
The drakon turned its neck, and Nat climbed onto his back, digging her heels against its side. When she reached his neck, the creature’s thick shoulder muscles adjusted to her weight, giving her a seat upon its mighty spine. She gripped its hard scales, and the drakon pushed off with a force that nearly tore her from its back.
Smoke filled her eyes as they soared upward. The cold wind rushed at her cheeks and in a moment they were above the battle. In one glance she could see the whole scene, laid out like a photo on a page. She saw the remaining ships rocking in the great black waters, the long sea of ice, and the brilliant fringes of the small green island.
From this height, the earth looked different—flatter, and even the noise from the battle was muted. They were so high in the sky they were invisible to the ship’s guns. The gray smoke covered them, and Nat held on tightly. She felt the drakon’s muscles contracting with each flap of its mighty wings.
The creature inhaled a mighty breath—its long muscular torso flexing beneath her—and her lungs, too, filled with fire once more.
“To battle!” Nat screamed, and the drakon surged upward so quickly that her hands ripped away and she fell from its back and she was flying.
She was airborne, just like that night at MacArthur when she had jumped out of the window. This was the same, and as she glided through the air, she felt no fear.
She could do this. She could fly.
She called to her drakon again and willed it to come to her. She caught it by the neck but they were moving too fast and her fingers gripped his scales for the briefest moment before her momentum pulled her away. She fell downward, but once again she was not afraid.
Drakon Mainas, to me, she urged, as the sea rose up to meet her.
Just as she was about to fall into the water, the drakon appeared beneath her and she slammed into its back. She righted herself and dug her feet into its hide.
They circled for a moment, then plunged toward the remaining ships.
Breathe deeply. We will need all our strength. Now exhale, Drakon Mainas directed.
Nat felt the same dark fire suffocate her throat, but she did not fight it, she breathed it in. Drakonfire. As she exhaled, a wild blue flame burst from the drakon’s mouth, covering the largest supercarrier in a swirling iridescent blue blaze.
They turned to the stealth cruiser next. Its surface was perfectly smooth and sleek, and the drakon bathed the entire ship in a flame so hot that the oxygen around the ship ignited in a wild orange fireball. The ship’s armored exterior contracted like shrink wrap—the hatches fell inward, the guns warped, and the windows slid from their frames.
The drakon roared its joy and flew higher and faster. With Nat directing its movements, when it flew back down to attack the remaining ships, it was able to evade the torrent of gunfire with a new and surprising agility. Nat held on with all her might, and the drakon’s spikes cut into her hands, but she felt no pain.
They exhaled together once more, and the blue flame bathed the final warship in a blinding cone of fire. The dark water boiled, clouds vaporized, the air crackled. A
s the ship sunk, its myriad guns let loose with a final volley. Shells sprayed in all directions.
A single explosive round cut through the drakon’s chest, piercing not just the creature’s flesh, but Nat’s as well.
The two tumbled, falling toward the sandy beach as the last warship sank into the fiery sea.
51
WES’S CREW CHEERED AS THE FINAL cruiser sank into the ocean. The smoke began to clear. The drakon had done its work. Wes scoured the sky and the sea for the drakon but saw nothing. They had stopped the armada, but at what cost?
The waters surrounding them swirled with blue flames as the ocean’s chemical sludge caught on fire.
“Where is she? Where’s Nat?” Wes demanded.
Shakes held up the binoculars but shook his head.
“Come on, take us to the shore,” Wes ordered.
They docked the ship by the green island, and Wes made his way to the coast. The air was cloudy with black smoke. Wes coughed. He thought he could see the drakon lumbering in the distance, but the sky was dark and his eyes were watering. The water was filled with wreckage from the battle, and those who survived were swimming to lifeboats.
From the shadows of the green forest, a few sylphs appeared. Like Liannan, they were clad in white raiment. They looked at Wes with somber faces.
“Where is she? Where’s Nat?” Wes asked.
“The drakonrydder was shot from the sky,” the nearest sylph replied. “She is gone.”
No way. No way. Wes kicked at the sand, unwilling to accept it. He knelt on the beach, his hands to his face, and stifled a scream of rage.
The waves lapped on the shore, and when he looked he saw a familiar-looking black boot.
He ran to the body and turned it over. It was Nat, still in her black coat and jeans.
In the distance, the drakon nodded its head. Wes wondered whether it had laid her down there for him to find.
“Nat! Wake up!” he yelled. Her flesh was cold from the icy water. Dark burns covered her skin. He laid his head down and put an ear to her mouth. She wasn’t breathing. He began to pump her heart, just as he had been taught. Three quick pumps, then he held her nose and breathed into her mouth. Nothing. He did it again and again. Nothing happened.
Liannan walked over the waves toward him. “I can help, please, bring her—follow me,” she said, leading Wes deeper into the island.
He lifted Nat in his arms and carried her, running after the fast-moving sylph as the crew followed behind him.
Liannan led them up the coast, over the burnt sand, and into the island’s interior. Wes looked around in wonder at a dense forest, with trees arching into the shape of a doorway. He had never seen trees before other than in pictures or on the nets, and these trees were like unlike anything he had ever seen. The branches curled with inch-long thorns, and roots reached up out of the soil. He laid Nat on the ground. He looked around in wonder at the green grass, the sky filled with life, birds chirping and fluttering, the buzz of insects, the smell of grass. The Blue was alive, alive as their world used to be.
The crew gathered around Nat’s still form.
Wes put his ear to her chest and listened for a heartbeat. There was none.
“We’re here, Nat. We’re here. We reached the Blue. Now wake up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse from crying.
He waited.
Finally Nat opened her eyes. She smiled at him.
Wes grinned. “You owe me ten thousand credits. Hand them over.”
52
NAT LAUGHED, SAT UP, AND LOOKED around. It was the Blue. Her home. Vallonis. There were no more clouds, no snow or fog. Just brilliant sunshine falling on her skin, warming her face. It felt like nourishment, as if the sun were giving her sustenance she’d been denied her entire life. Her ears filled with the sound of birdsong and the buzzing of insects. A soft, warm breeze fell on her face and tickled her cheek. The smell of blossoms, intoxicating and sweet, filled the air.
But nothing compared to the sky. The endless blue sky—there was no more gray, just a majestic blue. So this was why they called it the Blue. How could you name it anything else? She could feel the strength return to her body. The joy of breathing clean air. She was whole, she understood now, whatever rot had threatened to destroy her was expunged completely. She could return to New Vegas. She looked in wonder at the array of creatures passing through the doorway.
A dark-haired sylph was talking intently to Liannan, who was shaking her head sorrowfully.
Liannan returned to the group. “This doorway has been compromised; my people have no choice but to close it. It is too dangerous. We had hoped to leave it open for those of us who had been born in the gray land. But they must seek another way home.
“I must return to my task, to search for the source of the sickness. I have much more to do still, but the rest of you must cross before it closes,” she said.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Shakes said, taking her hand.
She smiled at him tenderly.
“What about you, boss?” Shakes asked.
Wes shook his head. “I can’t, you know I can’t. I’ve got to go back for my sister.” He stepped away from the green forest door and back toward the smoky beach. “Eliza needs me. She’s out there . . . somewhere. I have to find her.”
“Right.” Shakes nodded. “Don’t worry, boss, we will.”
“I can help; I think our goals may be linked in some way,” Liannan said. “If you’ll have me.”
“We will, too,” Roark said.
Brendon nodded. “We will help you find your family. You saved ours, and so we will do the same for you.”
Farouk was the last. “I’ll come, too—to earn your trust again.”
His team was assembled. This was his family now, his crew. There was just one person missing. Wes looked back at Nat, who stood alone by the doorway. “Nat?” he smiled, reaching out his hand for her to take.
She had said yes. They would be together. Always.
Nat felt tears coming to her eyes because she knew the answer she must give him. Drakon Mainas was in her head. You know you cannot go with him. We are pledged to Vallonis, we must protect what our enemies seek to control. This doorway will close, but they will return, and when they do, we must be ready. You and I are the last of our kind. We are all that is left. You cannot forsake me. She realized then that another cause for the drakon’s rage was its anger when it felt her falling for Wes. Falling in love was not part of the plan. Wes was a barrier to their reunion. The drakons and their riders did not love; they only served.
But she loved Wes. So much.
He was waiting for her to take her hand.
But she could not. She must not.
This was it.
The separation that could not be averted.
The ending she knew was coming.
This was the good-bye she had dreaded from the moment she had met him. She had fallen in love with him from the start, when he had stepped up to her blackjack table so long ago, in another lifetime, when they were strangers, a mercenary and his client, a runner and a dealer, a boy and girl.
“I can’t.” Nat shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Wes.” She had said yes before, but that was before she knew what she was . . . before she understood her place in the world . . . She had answered his question with a lie, a lovely lie. A lie that she had wanted to believe, that she had wanted to be real. But it was a dream. Fire and pain. Rage and sorrow. She was made of this, her cold heart of dread.
Wes nodded, holding his bluff, not letting her see what this was costing him, his blank poker face. “Well, good luck, then,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Good luck,” she said, and shaking his hand, placed the last two platinum chips in it.
The crew came to surround Nat, to hug and kiss her good-bye. Then it was time to go, and Wes turned back toward his ship.
Nat watched him walk away and then ran after him. Hot tears fell down her cheeks. “Ryan!”
When he he
ard her call his name, his face was so full of hope that it killed her to say what she needed to say. “I love you. I love you so much, but I can’t. I can’t. I love you but I can’t go with you.”
“I understand,” he said softly, and stepped back toward the beach.
She put a hand on his arm and turned him toward her, just as he had done to her that night on the Titan, when the traders had arrived. But before she could kiss him, he swept her off her feet and kissed her, dipping her low and holding her close.
“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered. “This isn’t the end for us. I promise.” Then Wes kissed her again. More slowly this time.
Nat watched him walk away from her, her heart breaking and healing at the same time. There is hope, she had told him once. She would believe it. The feel of his kiss lingered on her lips. She hoped it would be soon, that he would return to her soon. That they would be together one day. She would like that very much. She would trust him with all the treasures in the universe. She would trust him with her very heart.
Then Nat called for her drakon and together they flew through the doorway, into the Blue.
Acknowledgments
Mike and Mel would like to thank the awesome TEAM FROZEN: our amazing, lovely and brilliant team of editor and publisher Jennifer Besser and Don Weisberg, for believing in the book from the beginning and putting their whole hearts into it. Our super-agent and partner-in-crime, Richard Abate, and Melissa Kahn at 3 Arts, for all the support. Everyone at Penguin Young Readers Group for their dedication and enthusiasm, but especially Marisa Russell, Elyse Marshall, Shauna Fay Rossano, Emily Romero, Shanta Newlin, Erin Dempsey, Scottie Bowditch, Felicia Frazier, Courtney Wood, Erin Gallagher, and Anna Jarzab. Theresa Evangelista for the beautiful cover. Lynn Goldberg and Megan Beatie from Goldberg McDuffie for spreading the news to the world. Our film and TV agents Sally Willcox, Michelle Weiner and Tiffany Ward at CAA for navigating the crazy world of Hollywood for us. Our wonderful friends in life and letters Margie Stohl, Alyson Noël, Aaron Hartzler, Ally Carter, Rachel Cohn, Pseudonymous Bosch, Deborah Harkness and James Dashner for being comrades-in-arms. To our extended family, especially our brother-in-law and beta reader Steve Green for loving our stories. To our number one girl: Mattie, one day you’ll be in the family business as well and we look forward to that day with so much love and excitement!
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