Daybreak

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Daybreak Page 9

by Shae Ford


  His eyes shot towards her and his body twisted to follow. When he roared, it was all she could do to ignore the might of his voice: Stop! Stop, she-dragon!

  His words made her heart tremble upon its strings. Ice climbed up her spine when she heard him gaining. She blinked against the panicked memories that flashed before her eyes: trees bent to breaking beneath the gales, smaller dragons batted aside.

  Two powerful beats, and he was right behind her.

  Kyleigh shot upwards and grimaced when she heard his fangs snap into the space she’d been just seconds before. She tore away in a book’s corner of a turn, earning herself a few moments to breathe.

  She slowed her pace and waited for him to come up behind her again before she tucked her wings and dropped — falling upside down between his monstrous arms to lash his belly with her claws. She shoved hard off his middle and towards the crashing waves.

  He roared in annoyance, and she had to drop again to avoid a swat of his tail. Stop, Dragongirl!

  She spun to watch as he raised his head — and nearly tumbled from the sky when she saw that his collar had burst into a white-hot blaze. His eyes sharpened against the burning. The black slits inside the walls of yellow widened in rage.

  You will answer to me, Dragongirl! You … will … answer!

  Kyleigh’s blood went cold as the black dragon barreled down upon her. It was all she could do to avoid the deadly swipes of his claws. She cut from side-to-side — leading him south, then east, then north. Villages whipped beneath them. Lands passed in a blur. Kyleigh couldn’t even pause long enough to be shocked, or to wonder how in Kingdom’s name Crevan had managed to enslave a dragon. Her worries shrank back and she listened to her other instincts, to the oldest part of her soul … the part of her that dreamt of dragons warring long ago.

  She dropped from the sky and glided close to the seas. When the black dragon dove down to snatch her, she opened her wings as wide as they would stretch and let their span drive her to a halt. The black dragon couldn’t stop: he sailed overhead and crashed among the waves.

  A torrent of water spewed up where he landed; the noise of his great body crashing down quashed the thunder’s roar. Kyleigh watched for a moment too long. Had she spun away quickly, she might’ve avoided the fall of his tail.

  But instead, it coiled and slapped down as the dragon tried to free himself from the waves.

  Its spines caught her in the side. The world spun as her body flew skyward. The insides of her head slapped hard against her skull. Pain seared her flesh, burned her eyes. Most of her scales held against the blow, but she felt blood welling out of a gash along her ribs.

  Somehow, Kyleigh managed to get control of her wings. She climbed into the shelter of the clouds before the black dragon could pull himself free. She slipped into their thickest depth and forced herself to beat on through the pain.

  As she flew away, she could hear the dragon’s frustrated cries booming behind her:

  He swore to find her … and he swore her harm.

  CHAPTER 8

  The Last Scales

  “We — we’re alive.” Gerald raised his head slowly from the crooks of his arms. Though the skin across his cheeks was raw and the tip of his nose burnt to a bright red, it didn’t stop him from laughing. “I can’t believe we survived that! It’s a bloody wonder, I tell you. I’m beginning to think no spell can kill me.”

  Mandy was far less pleased. Her fingers traced gingerly down her burns, and her eyes welled with tears. “Why is it always mages? What have we ever done to them?”

  It wasn’t only mages: it was the King’s mages — and after seeing the way they’d taken off after Kyleigh, Kael could only imagine what she must’ve done to them.

  But he thought better of saying it aloud. “We’ll have time to figure it out later. Take the helm for a moment, Gerald,” he called, waving him up. “Anybody who’s got a burn, come straight to me. Don’t just sit there and bear it.”

  They were all a bit singed — some worse than others. Raw streaks had appeared in the places their arms couldn’t cover. A few sported bright red chins and at least one man had a very distinct X through the middle of his face. It was easy to tell which of them had peeked: raw lines crossed their eyes in a bandit’s mask, and their brows had all but vanished.

  Blisters dotted the backs of their hands and those who’d run out in their nightclothes had welts rising upon their feet. But there were plenty of unhurt patches of skin between the marks. Kael dragged the bits of flesh that weren’t burned over the raw bits, sealing them. His stomach churned while he worked, but it wasn’t the villagers’ wounds that troubled him …

  It was his.

  He could feel their eyes upon him, feel the questions forming on their lips. Their mouths fell open as they stared at the mask of red that crossed his features. But they never asked — and Kael didn’t have an answer.

  He’d never been hurt by magic before. He’d fallen through fire to gouge the Witch, sprinted through Finks’s spells. Perhaps if he’d thought to conjure his dragonscale armor, he wouldn’t have gotten burned. But he never imagined he would need it.

  Now he realized just how close they’d come to death. He had no doubt that they would’ve been devoured to their bones, had that spout of fire reached the boat. It’d destroyed much larger ships than theirs. The winds that’d torn from the orb’s middle cast enormous vessels into the waves.

  But at the last moment, the fire spout had disappeared … and that’s what troubled him the most.

  Perhaps they’d merely sailed beyond the spell’s reach. Perhaps Kyleigh had managed to lure the King’s mages away. But a strange feeling whispered that the truth was something far more sinister.

  As he worked, Kyleigh’s voice rang inside his ears: The King always … knew. It was like he knew where I’d be before I even knew it.

  It seemed like ages ago that they’d argued about flying into the Unforgivable Mountains. Kyleigh had insisted that it was too dangerous. She worried that the King might find them if she took to her wings so close to Midlan.

  Kael had thought the whole thing a bit ridiculous. He didn’t see how the King could’ve possibly known where Kyleigh would turn up — and he certainly didn’t think Crevan would send his whole blasted army out to find her. But after what he’d just seen, he could imagine nothing else. He was beginning to believe it.

  Midlan had come after them in the dead of night because the King knew Kyleigh would be there. He’d attacked Copperdock because he knew she would be desperate to protect it. He’d rained fire upon the ships knowing it would draw her out.

  And the fact that it’d all gone silent could only mean …

  “Kyleigh.” His stomach dropped and for half a breath; his worry froze him where he stood.

  “Is that it, then? Am I healed?”

  The villager’s question drew Kael back to the present, and he knew he had to focus on what needed to be done. He had no time to worry. For now, he had to trust that Kyleigh knew what she was doing.

  There were too many people depending on him.

  “Yes, that’s it. Is there anybody else?” he said.

  “Just me,” Gerald called from the helm.

  But as Kael made his way over, something itched in the back of his memory. “Are you sure?” He looked around again. “I could’ve sworn there was one more … a man we pulled from the water, I think.”

  “Well, what’d he look like?”

  That was precisely the problem. Kael couldn’t remember much of anything about him except that he’d been wide-eyed and dripping wet. But he was certain there’d been one more man.

  “Someone go check below, will you?” Gerald barked.

  A guard ducked into the ship’s one tiny cabin for a moment before he returned, shaking his head.

  Kael was about to go look for himself when a familiar roar sent him sprinting to the helm. “Kyleigh!”

  She dipped from the clouds and swooped by, the blast from her wings filling t
heir sails with a lurch. Kael waved madly. He yelled at her to come down. But she soared into the dark without a backwards glance.

  He couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if she was favoring her left wing.

  Gerald squinted through the storm. “Where’s she —?”

  “She’s going to see the pirates,” Kael said as he shoved him from the helm. “She’s going to Gravy Bay.”

  *******

  The night passed into a hazy afternoon. Once the relief of their survival had worn off, the sorrow crept in quickly. The villagers spent the night in a tight circle, worrying over loved ones on other ships — hoping they’d made it to safety.

  “Fate help them,” Mandy had murmured, time and time again. Though the night was black as pitch and the stars hidden behind a wall of clouds, she still seemed to know which way was home. Her chin turned towards Copperdock with every whispered hope: “Fate help them.”

  One by one, they dropped off — each falling into a fitful sleep. But Kael couldn’t sleep. All of his concentration was bent on the next crest of waves, on reaching the distant edge of the horizon. And once they arrived in Gravy Bay, he wasted no time.

  His worry was a creature all its own: it vaulted him over the ship’s edge and into the crowd of pirates below. When it was clear he had no intention of stopping, they scattered from his path — bellowing questions at his back.

  The hill to Gravy’s mansion shrank beneath his feet. One of the maids saw him and managed to whip the door open just in time — otherwise, Kael might’ve gone straight through it. He charged to the back of the spiral staircase and saw, just as he’d suspected, that the trap door to the basement was opened. He rushed foot over fist, dropping down the last half of the ladder and to the earthen floor below.

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  He followed the familiar song of Kyleigh’s hammer, grimacing against the heat that billowed up from a glowing corner of the room.

  Kyleigh was there, thrashing at her forge — and she wasn’t alone. An old man with frazzled gray hair and a twirled mustache stood stubbornly at her side. He had his hands clamped over his ears and his cane tucked beneath his arm. Though his tunic was nearly transparent with sweat, he still managed to bellow over the hammer’s fall:

  “Do you have any idea how long it took me to climb down that blasted ladder? I feel I deserve an explanation! What in high tide has happened?”

  “Midlan,” she barked. “Crevan’s found me. He sacked Copperdock last night, and it won’t be long before he finds me again.”

  Uncle Martin’s mouth fell open for a moment before he snapped it shut. “Well, I still think you’re making a mistaking, taking off like this. Just stay here and —”

  “I can’t stay here, Martin. I can’t stay anywhere. Don’t you understand?” Her hammer came down all the more furiously. “I can’t pause — not even for a breath. Wherever I go, I’ll bring all of Midlan with me.”

  She slid whatever white-hot object she held between her tongs into a vat of water. The cloud of steam that billowed up from it was enough to stagger Uncle Martin backwards. Still, he kept on: “If you won’t stay, then at least let our healers stitch you up.”

  Kyleigh shook her head. Though she wore her boots and breeches, she’d replaced her jerkin with a white tunic. Even from a distance, Kael could see the thin red line weeping through it.

  “It’ll mend on its own. A healer will take too long, and I haven’t got time to waste. I’ve got to leave here before —”

  “Before what?” Kael demanded.

  Uncle Martin whirled around at the sound of his voice. “There you are, Sir Wright! So good to —”

  “Before what, Kyleigh?” Kael said again, never taking his eyes from hers. “Before I find you?”

  He knew by how the flames wavered beneath his stare that he’d guessed her plan. Still, she didn’t blink. “You aren’t coming with me.”

  “Like Death, I’m not.”

  A heavy silence followed his words. Kyleigh glowered from the forge and Kael glared back, fists clenched at his sides.

  “Ah, I think I heard the cook calling for me a moment ago,” Uncle Martin said. He backed away from them slowly. “What was that, Bimply? I’m needed in the kitchens?”

  Kyleigh waited until Uncle Martin had gone before she snarled: “No. Not a chance.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I won’t have to — you can’t follow me.”

  She went to drag the cooled object from the vat, but Kael grabbed her arm. He slid his hand beneath her shirt and found where she was wounded. It was a deep gash — one that cut almost to the bone of her rib.

  The mark of a mage’s spell.

  He tried to be gentle, but she still flinched when he traced its length. She bit her lip while he worked and raised her chin to the dusty arches above them. Kael kept his hand against her waist even after he’d sealed the wound shut. He pulled her close and whispered:

  “I’ll walk the whole blasted Kingdom on foot, if I have to. I’ll follow your shadow from one end of the realm to the next.”

  Kyleigh said nothing. She twisted her arm from his grasp and pulled the object from the cooling vat. It slapped wetly onto the table beside them.

  It was her jerkin. There was a large gash in its side — one that matched the wound on her ribs. Where the tear cut through, all of the scales were gone and those that remained were charred on their ends, as if they’d been burned away.

  Kael had seen this happen once before, when Titus had managed to hit her with dragonsbane arrows — gold forged with mage blood capable of holding onto its magic for eternity. Charred holes had appeared in her armor where the arrows struck. Though he’d managed to stretch them closed, it left the scales weakened in three shining spots.

  “You aren’t coming with me,” Kyleigh said firmly. “It’s far too dangerous.”

  She pulled away before he could reply. Her tongs went into the fire again and returned with a small, white-hot plate about the size of a man’s thumb. She drew more plates from the fire and laid them down the tear in her jerkin. The hammer fell viciously upon the line of plates. She forced them into the blackened scales, lashing until they’d completely flattened out. Then she took her hammer away.

  Kael watched the heat leave the plates. As they cooled, they shrank. They dragged the black scales together until the tear was sealed. Her jerkin had a scar’s line of white where the gash had been before, but at least it was whole.

  “I don’t have time to blacken it. But I don’t suppose it matters, does it?”

  Kael ran a hand across the finished edge. “Were those … scales?”

  “Yes. I have to keep them in the fire once they fall. Otherwise, they melt to ash. I kept a few of my scales here from the last time,” Kyleigh said as she lowered the trough’s lid, leaving only a thin line of yellow light behind.

  “The last time, what?”

  “The last time I molted. Dragons shed their scales once every hundred years. Those were the last of the ones I’d saved, and I’ve still got quite a few years left to go,” she added with a sigh, glaring down at her armor. “I suppose I’ll just have to be more careful.”

  She stripped the tunic away and slid into her jerkin. Kael went to help with the clasps, but she pulled out of his reach.

  “I can’t risk setting a whisperer’s strength loose on my armor.” Her lips bent into a smirk as her fingers ran expertly up the buckles and clasps. “You’ve already proven yourself to be rather … impatient.”

  He was only impatient when he was trying to work things the other way. But before he could say as much, she’d swept past him — clasping Harbinger on as she went. “What will we do, now?”

  “I’ve already said that I can’t stay here.”

  “Yes, but you haven’t mentioned where we’re going.”

  “Kael …” His name faded into a frustrated growl as she climbed up the ladder.

  He followed, his mind whirring with thought. “We have to do somet
hing to get the King’s attention. As long as Crevan’s eyes are on us, the Kingdom will be safe.”

  “You aren’t coming with me.”

  She climbed out into the main room and took off quickly down one of the long, winding halls. Kael had to trot to keep her pace. “If what you said is true, then Crevan will send his army the moment he spots us. They’ll be more vulnerable, easier to pick off. I’ll bet we could even lead them into tra —”

  “You aren’t coming with me!”

  All at once, the world spun and Kael’s back slammed hard against the wall. Kyleigh’s arm held him pinned in an iron bar; her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. Her eyes blazed with such fury that he almost forgot to breathe.

  When she spoke again, her words were even — and dangerously quiet. “I brought this trouble upon myself. This is my task, mine alone. And while I’m away, you’re going to stay here with the pirates. You’re going to stay safe. Do you understand?”

  Kael matched her glare. “You aren’t alone anymore, Kyleigh. You can’t just wing off whenever you please and expect me not to follow. I will always follow you,” he said, pushing against her hold. “I will always find you.”

  “Not this time.”

  “Why is it when I don’t want you following me, we’re tied together —”

  “That’s completely different.”

  “— and when you don’t want me following you, it’s all fire and threats.”

  “I can’t protect you!” Kyleigh roared. The wall groaned as she crushed his body against it, as if the pressure would somehow drive reason into his skull. “I can’t protect you, up there. If I fall, you’ll fall with me. Don’t you understand?”

  He did understand. He understood her perfectly. But it wasn’t her words that jolted him so much as her eyes: though the fires shone, their blaze was sharp and desperate — the eyes of a wolf caught inside a trap.

  If he kept arguing with her, she would only growl at him. He tried to think of something else. “If I let you go, I’ll never see you again.”

 

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