Shance frowned. On one hand, he couldn’t argue with her. On the other, she was impossible to read, which would make working together difficult. But he had no other options.
“Relay my orders. You are dismissed, Commander Tegan.”
Tegan turned on her heel and continued to the voice-horn at the center of the ship to make the announcement.
General Markem had been as brusque about his Lawless support as he had been terse about everything else. But he was helpful. The general had managed to convince, order, and outright threaten anyone necessary to get The Silver Streak released on an early test flight. From there, it was simply a matter of Shance and his Lawless crew commandeering the vessel and turning off the radio in response to Markem’s “official” orders to return to High Command. And Tegan was Markem’s most valuable ally. Like it or not, she had to be aboard.
“Just as long as we stay on the same side,” Shance muttered.
A few minutes later, The Silver Streak was surrounded by a dense fog. Water droplets condensated on consoles and the faces of his crew, slicking the surface of the deck. The air was a blanket of grayish wetness. All they had to do was wait for the impending doom and pray to Viorstan and Fiarston for a shipload of luck. Or pray to Bonilus and his emissaries. At this point, Shance sent up prayers to the whole lot of them. Surely, if one of them existed, they would look down and help.
If they could see through the clouds.
Shance tapped the pads of his fingers against the railing, his breath loud in his ears. Outside the cloud, the faint outlines of dragons hovered and darted back and forth. The additional benefit of moisture from the cloudbanks would make it more difficult for dragons to activate their fire spewing. Or so the myth went. If it bought them even a few minutes, Shance would be happy.
A dark figure dove closer, its long tail breaking through the clouds above them for a brief moment. Shance’s heartbeat sped, and his mind filled with tension. The dragons had to be planning an attack. The only question was whether The Silver Streak would survive it, and take down a few of the beasts with them.
A small shape made a sudden plunge straight for the ship. Three crew pulled out weapons, and Shance did as well.
Tegan whistled low. “It’s only a sun-dove.”
“Kesia.” Shance watched as the small bird fluttered through the mastheads to land on his shoulder with a trill. He stroked the top of her head. She pushed off his fingers and began pulling at his uniform. First gently, then insistently.
Clothes. Right. She needed to shift back. “I got it.”
He jogged to his cabin and pulled out a pair of drawstring trousers, a shirt, and a jacket. “I’ll put these on the bed and face the wall, all right?”
The sun-dove trilled again. Shance turned away, trying not to think of her dressing and mostly succeeding.
Points for emotional growth.
“You can turn around now. Thanks.”
Kesia’s hair was loose and tangled around her shoulders. His clothes fit her decently well, with exceptions made for her more feminine figure. Her warm amber eyes smiled at him. “I knew you’d figure it out.”
“I always had a thing for sun-doves.”
“Me too. They make a delicious snack.”
He laughed, wanting to lift her up in his arms and twirl her around. Was that something brothers did with their sisters? Not now, at any rate. Not with him in military uniform and her in his clothes. Her face was decidedly all dragon, complete with scales along her forehead and cheekbones and red strands in her brown hair.
“What does it look like outside?”
Kesia pressed her lips together and rolled up her sleeves. “Not good. Zephryn is out there Cloaked. He has confirmed the presence of ten dragons, all of them experienced warriors. The cloudbank was a smart move, but it won’t hold them off forever. We think the best choice is to make a break for it, using your cannons and Zephryn and I as cover fire. You have the coordinates for the Lawless outpost?”
“Yes.” Shance motioned her over to a large table in the middle of the cabin where a map of Sekastra was spread. “The outpost is on the far side of dragon airspace, nearer to the Scepter of Knowledge. It’s possible for a ship to skirt the edges of dragon and human airspace.”
She leaned over him, her eyes blank for a moment, then she nodded to an unheard conversation. He suspected she was communicating with Zephryn.
A moment later, she confirmed it, saying, “That will work. As soon as The Silver Streak is clear, use your alert siren at the loudest setting. Zephryn and I will land aboard, since your wind Talent is even faster than our flying.
“One problem. My Talent hasn’t returned yet.”
“What if I could try to alleviate the effects?”
“How? Is that part of your Talent? Some new development?”
“We’ll say it’s the latter.” Kesia winked. “I can’t make promises, but it’s the best we have right now.”
“That pretty well sums up our entire association.”
“Yes. Give me your hands.”
He placed his hands in hers. At that moment, a blast of fire pulsed outside the cabin window, glancing off the ship. “Was that—?”
“Zephryn’s taking care of it.” Kesia held his hands firmly in her own. “I’m sorry. This might hurt.”
“More words that summarize our experiences together.”
She squeezed his hands, just shy of breaking bone. “The only other time I did this was with Zephryn, and I’m not kissing you, Shance. I’ll have to try another way.”
She closed her eyes. Flames erupted from her hands. Shance tried to pull away, but Kesia held him fast with her iron grip. A penetrating burning sensation consumed him, as if every cell in his skin was splitting apart. After a few seconds, Shance felt nothing but pain. Sharp pins and needles rushed over his skin, stabbing into his very bones until his entire body was on fire.
He gritted his teeth. Sweat lined Kesia’s face. Gradually, he noticed a greenish smoke emanating from his pores and smearing his skin. The more it prickled through his flesh, the more intense was the pain from the pins that tore him apart atom by atom.
At last, she dropped his hands. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes opened slowly, as if she’d been asleep. She stood in a cloud of green mist, the color tinging her skin and hair. “That’s all I can do right now. Come on, let’s see if it worked.”
“And then you’ll take a rest?”
“I’ll rest as soon as you and everyone else does.” Kesia managed a weak but defiant smile. “Try to make a breeze.”
Shance reached toward the pillow on his bed, trying to collect enough wind to lift the cushion up. Nothing.
Kesia shut her eyes and rubbed them with her palms. “Try again.”
A flash of fire and heat singed the ship. The dragons were close.
Shance gestured again. This time, the pillow shifted slightly, rising several inches off the bed. “Well, that’s something.”
“Not nearly enough for a ship. It was worth a try.” She trudged over to the door, the green mist clinging to her. “I need to join Zephryn out there. We will try to buy you enough time to get through.”
Shance strode past her, forcing himself between her and the door. “The last I knew, you both were priority figures in this rebellion.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you shouldn’t get killed.”
“We don’t plan on it. Do you have any other ideas? Do you want to go up there?” She glared at him. “Don’t make me move you. I will.”
“I won’t let you get killed.”
Kesia’s eyes flashed to slits. “And I won’t let you dictate what I can and cannot do, especially when it comes to the welfare of my embermate.” Kesia grabbed his arms, forcing him away from the door. “Move, Shance!”
“No!”
A blast of wind blew her back three feet. Her mouth parted in shock. “Did you—?”
“I think so.” Shance pivoted and ran outside, their quarrel forgo
tten. He raised his hands and felt the breezes come at his call. Gusts and gales swirled around the ship, filling the sails and wrapping around him like the embrace of an old friend.
The honor and pride of Windkeepers had returned to him.
Kesia grinned in relief, her green and brown hair whirling about her face. “Do your best, Shance. I’ll see you when the ship is clear.”
“Kesia, wait, your—”
She shifted into a sun-dove and flew away into the clouds.
“Sir.” He glanced over at Tegan. Her brows wrinkled. “Her hair. Her file says she has red strands. But they looked—”
“—Green. I know.”
Green like the smoke. Only deeper.
He pushed his thoughts aside. “No time right now, Commander. Let’s get out of here.”
Shance spun his hands, creating a funnel of wind around the vessel, one that would both protect them from attack and propel them forward faster.
“All hands on deck! Grab onto anything bolted to the ship.” Shance beckoned Tegan forward. “Turn off the turbines, Commander.”
“Sir?”
“Kill the turbines! You’re about to find out the reason for those sails.”
The ship wheeled around. Shance held out his hands, palms up, and felt the deck fall away beneath him. The wind carried him into a protective current where he could feel the breezes and hear their voices clearly.
The only place he was free.
A cheer rang out from below him. With the barest breath of wind, he could feel the location of each crew member and alter the currents to ensure each and every one of them stayed safe and secure on the deck, no matter how fast they went. Within reason.
A hideous screech broke through his calm. Shance squinted, the mist still partly obscuring his vision. A gray dragon careened toward The Silver Streak.
“Hang on!”
He pulled the funnel tighter around the ship, increasing the speed of the wind until it acted as a shield. Then Shance dropped his arms, and he and The Silver Streak fell through the air and flew in a diagonal evasive maneuver, narrowly avoiding the trajectory of the gray dragon.
It wheeled around, opening its gaping maw to flame The Silver Streak.
“Fire!”
At Commander Tegan’s order, five of The Silver Streak’s guns opened fire with bioelectric cannonballs, modified to track and zero in on dragon heartflame frequencies.
Shance held his breath.
Kesia, Zephryn, stay clear. By Bonilus, stay clear.
The gray dragon pulled up, but it was too late. Three of the bioelectric cannonballs hit their mark in an explosion of bluish-white currents, smoking scales, and dragon blood. Shance took hold of the winds again, sending a gale against the dragon to deflect the worst of the carcass.
“Good firing, Commander!”
“Sir! It’s badly wounded, but still active.”
Shance opened his mouth to order another attack, but before the words could leave his mouth another screech sounded through the mist, melodic and deadly. A moment later, a slender, deep red dragon drove through the air, flames bursting from its jaws.
The crew scurried around below, readying more cannons.
Kesia.
“Commander!”
“On it!” Tegan’s voice blared over the voice-horn. “Stand down! We have a friendly dragon! Repeat, stand down!”
Kesia pounced on the gray dragon, claws out, teeth ripping and tearing. Both of them fell out of view, the gray dragon giving a final, pained screech.
Relief flooded Shance. Kesia could take it from there.
“All hands, brace yourselves! We’re going faster!”
Tegan’s voice echoed his orders on the voice-horn, and Shance took a deep, cleansing breath of winds. Never mind the carnage. They were fighting for something worthwhile. Finally.
A peaceful future.
He summoned more gales of wind, shoving them along the sails as much as he dared. The new synthetic canvas was meant to withstand any wind speed, but it hadn’t been tested by a Windkeeper at full power.
The Silver Streak raced ahead, straight through three more dragons in attack formation. Screeches and deafening roars echoed through the air. Blasts of flame singed the edges of one sail. Below, Shance heard Tegan ordering sailors to shore up the canvas.
“Belay that!” Shance shouted. “We’re going for the final push! Tegan!”
She glanced up at him. “Sir!”
“Sound the alert! Make sure everyone is strapped down. And sound the alert siren at maximum volume.”
“Aye sir! Make sure you strap yourself down as well!”
A moment later the siren blared, blocking out even the sounds of roaring dragons. Shance stirred a few breezes, landing on the deck and starting to strap himself to the main mast. Ahead, he viewed open sky for miles. He tensed. A rare, clear path.
Come on, Kesia. Zephryn. Get your asses on board.
Protocol demanded the safety of his ship and crew was paramount. But Shance wasn’t leaving the dragons behind.
They were key figures in the Lawless. And his friends.
He finished strapping himself in, then pulled on even more wind currents, funneling some of them around the ship and holding others in reserve for one final acceleration.
“Incoming!”
His pulse jolted. Two dragons aimed straight for the ship. One was midnight blue, the other dark red with a greenish tinge to the scales.
Tegan shouted, “friendlies! Friendlies! Captain, as soon as they’re aboard—”
“Copy that!”
Kesia and Zephryn landed in a corner of the deck, both in skin form. Teagan rushed them into the cabin.
Dragons roared behind him.
Shance exhaled. Released the winds.
The Silver Streak shot ahead into the blue.
Chapter 25
Kesia’s head rose and fell gently, as if on the slightest, softest breeze. A breeze that was as warm as the heartflame inside her. She snuggled closer, wanting to feel the warmth all over her, but something was in the way. Some horrible barrier kept her from the warmth. She took the wall between her fingers, tugging at it, a low growl rumbling in her throat.
The voice was familiar. Safe and compelling as her own heartbeat.
Zephryn.
She opened her eyes. A small cavern room came into focus around her. A dresser and table sat against one wall, and a lamp hung beside the bed.
A bed where she lay curled up next to Zephryn, his chest beneath her cheek. Sort of. A loose shirt was in the way. Her face flushed.
Kesia lifted her head and grinned at Zephryn.
He raised a black brow, his bronze face creasing into a slow smile.
She sighed. They had been trained in endurance flying at high speeds, but after the fight, every muscle in her body had been put to the test. They’d taken half-hour breaks in shifts on The Silver Streak, sleeping on the deck, ready for any fresh battles. By the time they’d reached the Lawless outpost near Edgefell Peaks, there had been no energy left, not even for mental communication. She barely remembered donning the sleeping clothes laid out and falling into bed next to Zephryn.
He trailed a finger along her cheek, lightly caressing her scales.
So much better. So much more intimate, being so close to her embermate. She ran her fingers over the cobalt scales at the open neck of his shirt.
His hand drifted to her hair.
Zephryn tugged a
t a lock with a frown.
The pleasant warmth left her, and she pushed away from him.
Her breath grew shallow.
Zephryn sat up too, his cobalt eyes intent.
She breathed out smoke.
Zephryn’s frustration and concern filtered through their bond.
Wetness trailed down her face.
Zephryn squeezed her hand.
The quiet sadness in his mental voice prompted Kesia to look at him. Zephryn’s face, normally calm and impassive, held a sorrow that wasn’t evident in his scale form.
Open. Caring. Accepting.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled her into his arms. She burrowed her face against his chest, taking in his heartbeat until nothing mattered except the two of them.
Embermates.
What were the words Shance had said to her?
Lawless Page 24
