by Julie Kagawa
Things like magic. Magic still existed in the world today, otherwise how could a fifteen-ton dragon shrink down into a two-hundred-pound human body? Just because nobody used it anymore didn’t mean magic didn’t exist. In the Elder Wyrm’s time, at least according to the stories, magic was everywhere. There were witches and demons, monsters and ancient swords, wizards, the Good Neighbors and even the rare unicorn, wandering the deepest parts of the forest. But with the rise of civilization and technology, magic had been long forgotten. Even the Elder Wyrm didn’t use it anymore, or maybe there wasn’t a lot of the ancient power left in the world. Because we had lost the capacity for it—or perhaps because we really didn’t need it anymore—Shifting into human form was the last bit of old magic we could do.
But, in recent years, the Talon laboratories had been coming out with strange, crazy, unexplainable things. Bodysuits that wouldn’t tear when you Shifted, drugs that specifically targeted the dragon anatomy, weird crap like that. According to rumors, they were experimenting with blending old magic and science, mixing them together, though that should’ve been impossible. There were also whispers that these tests were just preliminary; that the scientists were working on something “big.” Something that would change the dragon world forever. I didn’t know how much of that I believed, but whenever the labs came out with a brand-new “toy,” somehow my trainer was the first to get his hands on it.
I could feel the old Basilisk watching me, his gaze burning the side of my head, and stifled a sigh. “Of course, sir,” I muttered, not meeting his gaze. “Whatever Talon needs me to do.” Because that’s what they expected me to say, even though my insides roiled with anger as I did. A pause and then, though I knew better, my curiosity got the better of me. “What kind of thing will I be testing out, exactly?”
My trainer chuckled. “Oh, I think you’ll like this, Agent Cobalt,” he said, his hard smile making me realize I would feel the exact opposite. And the old bastard knew it, too. “In fact, I believe it’s right up your alley.”
Garret
“Bloody hell,” the man beside me muttered.
I turned from the window and gave him a wary glance. We’d been traveling for nearly an hour, fleeing down dusty roads with the sun beating down on us, turning the inside of the van into an oven. Knowing St. George was still out there, we’d avoided the main strip of highway, taking back roads and constantly looking for vehicles that could belong to our pursuers. No one seemed to be giving chase, and with every mile, we drew farther and farther away from the St. George chapterhouse, but being out in the open like this made me nervous. The Order wouldn’t stop hunting me, especially now that I was in the company of dragons. Dragons who had broken into their chapterhouse and escaped with a traitor. We had to find shelter soon. I hoped my rescuers had a place they could go.
The driver, Wes, I think his name was, pursed his lips at the dashboard before raising his head to call over his shoulder. “Running on fumes here, Riley,” he said, his voice tight and sharp. “I’m going to need to stop for gas, or we’ll be hauling a bloody dragon carcass across the desert on foot.”
“Dammit,” came the low voice from the back. “All right, pull off when you get the chance, but let’s do this quickly.”
Wes immediately made a right turn and hit the gas pedal, presumably heading toward the highway again. I turned in my seat to peer into the back. Riley crouched at Ember’s side, fully clothed with a bloody rag in hand, pressing it to her ribs. We’d switched places not long after the van started moving, as I had no idea what to do with a wounded dragon, and Ember was bleeding all over the place. She now sprawled across the floor of the van, large wings brushing the windows like leathery curtains. Her scales gleamed metallic crimson in the sunlight through the glass and threw fragments of light over the walls. She was not, I realized with a chill, something small or subtle that we could easily hide. All anyone had to do was peek in the window to see a large red dragon curled up on the floor.
The smell of blood soaked the back of the vehicle, making my stomach turn. “How is she?” I asked, and the other dragon shot me a murderous glare.
“Not good.” His voice was clipped, as if he was speaking to me only out of necessity. “She’s lost a lot of blood, and that slug is still inside her somewhere. I’ve stopped the bleeding for now, but we have to get her somewhere safe before we can take care of the wound.” He put a hand on a scaly foreleg, his forehead creasing with worry. “Probably a good thing she’s unconscious, but she won’t be able to Shift back until we get it out. It could tear something vital if she changes back with the round still inside her.”
My stomach twisted with worry. Not only for Ember, but that we wouldn’t be able to get somewhere safe without anyone noticing the large mythological creature in the backseat. As if reading my thoughts, Riley’s gaze flickered to me and turned hard. “So you’d better hope no one sees her between then and now,” he growled, “or we’ll have the Order back on our tail faster than you can pull a trigger. And probably Talon, come to think of it.” He snorted, lip curling with disgust. “It would be just like them to show up now.”
I frowned, not sure I’d heard him correctly. “Why would Talon be after you? I thought all dragons—”
“Well, you thought wrong.” He gave me a look of contempt. “There’s a lot about us you don’t know, St. George,” he went on, an accusation and a challenge. “Maybe if you tried talking to us instead of blowing us to pieces, you’d realize that.”
“Riley,” Wes broke in before I could answer, “gas station in three miles. If we don’t fill up now, we might not get another chance. And I need to visit the loo.”
“All right.” Reaching down, Riley grabbed the edge of the canvas Ember was sprawled on top of and began tugging it free. “Do it, but hurry up.”
I turned in my seat and watched the desert flash by. Watched the pavement stretch on, until a lone gas station appeared on the side of the road, shimmering in the near distance. My apprehension grew. It was not a tiny little outpost in the middle of nowhere. It was a huge truck stop with a restaurant and mini-mart attached, and there was a crowd. I glanced back as Riley gently peeled one of Ember’s wings from the wall and folded it carefully against her body before pulling the canvas over her. Her tail and the tips of her claws poked out, but at least she wasn’t as blatantly noticeable as before. Still, if anyone got too close, they would immediately know something large, scaly and inhuman was sprawled on the floor of the van.
We pulled up to one of the pumps, and Wes leaped out and slammed the door behind him, leaving the keys in the ignition. I scanned the station warily, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary; families wandering back to their cars, a couple large trucks sitting off to the side. No soldiers, black SUVs or anything that belonged to the Order. So far, so good.
Wes wrenched the pump off the handle, shoved it into the tank to start the flow of gas, then went hurrying into the store. I scanned the area once more before glancing at the two dragons behind me.
“You’re not part of Talon,” I confirmed, as Riley smoothed the canvas over Ember, covering the exposed parts as best he could. It was a strange concept. All dragons, we were told, belonged to Talon, the huge dragon organization that spanned the globe. Banded together, working together, to overthrow mankind. I’d never thought there could be discontents.
But then, I’d never thought I could befriend a dragon, either. Or that she would risk her life to save mine.
Riley, tugging a corner over Ember’s front claws, gave a snort.
“No.”
I waited, but he didn’t offer any further explanation. But there was something there, an undercurrent of disgust that wasn’t pointed entirely at me, but at Talon. Curiosity prickled. And guilt. Here was one more fact about dragons that the Order had gotten wrong. This dragon wasn’t part of the organization; in fact, h
e seemed to despise it. How gravely was the Order mistaken when it came to our ancient enemies? And how many lives had I taken, because I believed we were doing the right thing?
“If you’re not part of Talon,” I ventured, “who are you with?”
“Myself.” Again that clipped, brusque reply. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me.
Something chirped close by, startling us both. Riley reached back and pulled out his phone, staring at the screen. His expression screwed up with disgust.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Wes. Really?” He stuck the phone in his back pocket, shaking his head. “You and your damn nervous stomach. Perfect timing as always.”
He straightened and peered out the window, scanning the surroundings just as I had a moment ago. I recognized that wariness, that caution for traps and enemies and hidden dangers. He had been a soldier, once. Or some kind of operative. We were parked at one of the farthest pumps, and no one was close by, but he still scanned the area for a good twenty seconds before glancing at me.
“I’m going inside.” His glare was hard, his face taut with suspicion. “We’ll need a few things if we’re going to be holed up for a while, and my idiot partner is out of commission. I’ll only be gone a minute, but…” His gaze flicked to the large canvas lump beside him, the tail and claws poking out from beneath. “Can I trust you with her, St. George?”
I met his glare, keeping my voice steady. “Yes.”
His lips tightened like he’d swallowed something foul, but he didn’t say anything as he made his way to the front door. Snatching the keys from the ignition, he slipped out of the van and slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone with an unconscious dragon in the backseat.
Silence descended, throbbing in my ears, broken only by Ember’s slow, labored breaths beneath the tarp. I turned in my seat to look at her fully. The canvas hid most of her body, but her feet, ending in hooked black talons, stuck out of the bottom, as did the long, spade-tipped tail. I could see the points of her horns and wings, the curve of her neck, the very tip of her muzzle peeking from the edge of the cloth. She twisted and curled a lip in her sleep, revealing a flash of very long, very sharp fangs, and a cold knot formed in my stomach.
Ember… This was the real form of the girl I’d met in Crescent Beach. I’d seen her like this before, but only in passing. When we were battling one another, soldier to dragon, each of us fighting for our lives. And later, when I was urging her to run before my team showed up to kill them all. I’d seen her real form then, but it was a fleeting awareness, buried in the urgency of the moment. I’d been too distracted to give it much thought.
Now, though, it was staring me in the face, impossible to ignore. Ember was a dragon. A huge lizard, with scales and wings and claws and a tail. All my memories from Crescent Beach, from the summer that had disappeared too quickly, were of the girl. Surfing with her. Slow dancing at a party. Kissing her in the ocean, feeling my blood sizzle and my breath catch. The green-eyed girl with an infectious smile and a fierce love for life. But Ember wasn’t a girl. Ember wasn’t human. Ember was…this.
A car pulled off the highway and cruised to a stop at the pump next to ours. The doors opened, and a family of four piled out, making me tense. But after a short squabble between two small boys and their mother, she managed to herd them toward the mini-mart. The father remained behind long enough to fill the tank and make me nervous, before he finally meandered into the store. I drummed my fingers on the armrest, wondering where Riley and Wes were.
A scraping sound jerked my attention to the back. The canvas lump was moving, shifting from side to side with confused growls. Ember tossed her head, flinging the cloth away and exposing a bright red dragon to the open air. She tried staggering upright, but lurched to one side and collapsed against the door with a loud thump, making the vehicle rock. Her tail lashed the sides of the van with metallic clanking sounds as she growled and clawed herself up again, the sunlight gleaming along her metallic crimson scales.
“Ember.” Swiftly, I moved to the back, barely dodging a wingtip as it flapped against the wall. “Hey, stop. Calm down.” Her head whipped toward me, and I instinctively threw up my hand, catching a horn as it smacked into my palm. “Stop!”
She froze at my touch, and I was suddenly holding the head of a groggy red dragon, her muzzle right at eye level. Her fangs gleamed as she stared at me, nostrils flaring, and for a second, I felt a jolt of fear, realizing how close she was. If she lunged or snapped or spit fire at me, I’d catch it right in the face.
Quickly, I released her. She didn’t pull away but continued to stare at me, a puzzled expression in her reptilian green eyes.
“Garret?”
My muscles unclenched at the sound of her voice. It was weak, confused and in pain, but it was her voice, Ember’s voice. Though I didn’t know what I’d expected. Those slitted eyes blinked again before she sagged weakly, struggling to stay upright. “Where am I?” she asked, her words slurred. “What’s going on?”
I took a careful breath. “You need to lie down,” I told her gently. She stumbled and fell against the side, and I winced as the van rattled. “Ember, look at me.” I reached out, catching one of her horns again, forcing her attention back to me. “You have to relax,” I said as she looked up, her eyes now bright with pain and fear. Her jaws parted as she panted, showing rows of deadly fangs, and I resisted the urge to yank my hand back. “We’re out in the open, and you can’t be seen right now. Please. Lie down.”
She stared at me a moment, and I forced myself to breathe calmly. This had to be one of the most surreal moments of my life: pleading with a near-delirious dragon to lie still so that we wouldn’t be discovered. With the exception of the flight from the base, I’d never been so close to a live dragon, not for this length of time. Never close enough to feel its breath, smelling of heat and smoke. Or the bony ridges of its horns under my palm. In the past, if a dragon had been near enough to touch, it was either dead or I was fighting for my life, trying to make it so.
A tremor went through the dragon in front of me and, to my relief, she sank down again, her head touching the floor with a muffled groan. Her wings fluttered once and her tail thumped the side of the van, before her eyes closed and she went limp, asleep once more. I let out a short breath, glancing out the side window, and froze.
A boy of maybe five stood a few feet from the van, clutching a fountain drink in both hands, his eyes huge as they stared at me. I gazed back, guessing that he’d seen everything, unsure of what to do, as his parents walked around the car, his mother reaching for his arm.
“Jason, come on. What are you looking at?”
The boy pointed. “The dragon.”
“A dragon?” Her gaze rose, a puzzled look crossing her face as she spotted me. Heart pounding, I offered a feeble smile and a helpless shrug, and the woman frowned.
“Okay, that’s nice, dear. Come on, Daddy’s waiting.” Taking the boy’s wrist, she quickly steered him toward the car, and I started breathing again. As they piled into the car, the little boy’s face peered through the window at me, eyes huge and staring, until the car pulled onto the highway and sped off toward the horizon.
Riley and Wes came out of the store, each carrying a couple plastic bags, and hurried toward the van. I pulled the canvas over Ember again, gently covering her head and body as much as I could, before slipping quietly into the front seat.
A moment later, Wes wrenched open the front door, tossed a couple grocery bags into my lap and moved aside to let Riley in. The other dragon climbed into the back through the front seats, not wanting to open the side door and risk exposing Ember to the world, I guessed. But he paused, his gaze flickering over the sleeping dragon and the obviously disturbed tarp, before shifting to me.
“Problems, St. George?” he asked, his voice suspicious. I shook my head.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”<
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He continued to glare at me, but at that moment, Ember flapped a wing in her sleep, throwing back the canvas again. A line of red spattered the window, making my insides curl. Riley muttered a curse.
“She’s bleeding again,” he growled, kneeling swiftly at her side. “Wes, grab the first-aid kit—she can’t afford to lose any more blood. St. George, get us out of here.”
I waited until Wes slid into the back with Riley, then moved to the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. “Where am I going?” I asked as the van roared to life.
“Vegas” was the snapped reply. “It’s not far, and I have a place we can hole up for a few days.” Ember twitched, kicking a back leg against the wall, and Wes let out a yelp. Riley cursed. “I’ll give you directions when we get close, but right now, just drive!”
Throwing the van into gear, I pulled onto the highway, passed a dusty sign that read Las Vegas 64 Miles and sped off into the sun.
Dante
“Mr. Hill. Do you have a moment?”
I looked up from my desk. Mist stood in the doorway, manila folder in hand, looking poised and calm and expectant at the same time. Her silver hair was pulled into a ponytail today, and it made her look younger, not quite so severe. It was hard to believe Mist was my age; she acted so composed and mature, I wondered if she’d had a normal upbringing. Or whatever was considered normal for us, anyway.
