Daybreak

by Shae Ford

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she tore her hand from his and stumbled backwards. Her face went white.

  Kael knew it had something to do with the shadowed valley. He ran as close to the edge as he dared, but the darkness was far too thick. He couldn’t see what it was that frightened her. “What’s happening? What’s down th —? Kyleigh!”

  It was too late. She collapsed before he could reach her; her face was stark with pain. She had both hands clamped tightly over her mouth — desperate to stop the gasping screams trapped behind them.

  Kael ran for her. He heard the sound of claws scraping against the stone, saw the white blur barreling down upon him. But he didn’t stop. He dropped his shoulder and matched His-Rua’s charge.

  His muscles coiled as their bodies struck. The warrior in him planted its feet and tried to shove her away from Kyleigh. He’d gained an inch when the world suddenly turned upon its head.

  “Put me down!” he roared as Rua lifted him by his boots. “Get away from her — don’t touch her!”

  But Rua only raised him higher, and Kyleigh got further away. She’d fallen to her knees. Her hands were braced against the ground as if it took all of her strength to keep from collapsing onto her chest.

  His-Rua leaned over her shoulder, blocking her from Kael’s sight. The dragon’s whistling song filled the air — but he couldn’t understand it. The only thing he understood was Kyleigh when she screamed:

  “I don’t want to — let me go!”

  His-Rua came up on her hindquarters. Her powerful foreclaws were clamped around Kyleigh’s arms. Her wings burst open in a spray of grit, and Kael swung up with a roar.

  He drove his fists into Rua’s snout and the dragon’s mouth fell open in surprise. Wind howled in his ears as he plummeted towards His-Rua. The warrior in him fixed its gaze upon her throat —

  Rua’s massive claw snatched him out of the air. The insides of his head slammed against his skull and for half a blink, the world went dark.

  When Kael’s vision returned, Kyleigh and His-Rua were gone. A shock arced across his ribs as Rua’s massive claw slammed into his back, driving him belly-first into the rock. The red dragon’s palm spanned the length of his middle. Its scales were impossibly rough: they felt like shards of glass and scraped his flesh with even the slightest turn.

  Rua had given him less than an inch to breathe. Slowly, Kael managed to lift his head just in time to see His-Rua dip into the valley — Kyleigh hanging from her arms.

  Kael forgot his pain. His twisted onto his back and didn’t flinch when Rua’s scales cut deep lines across his armor. His head was caught between two of Rua’s talons, but his arms were free. He clutched the tops of the claws. He wedged his fingers between the scales until he could press them against the hot flesh beneath.

  Sleep, he thought furiously, concentrating as he glared into the yellow of Rua’s eyes. Sleep, you stupid dragon. Sleep …

  He focused for nearly a full minute — pushing every memory of sleep he had into Rua’s flesh. But the red dragon’s body was far too large. He never so much as blinked, and it wasn’t long before Kael’s head began to feel light from the effort.

  These words you speak are … strange, Rua said quietly, his head tilting to the side. There is such fire in them.

  “Let me go. If you harm Kyleigh, I swear I’ll —”

  Calm yourself, human. Your mate is not in danger. My-Rua has been waiting many years for this day. She has been waiting for the halved one to understand. She wishes to speak to her, to lay old wounds to rest. Nothing more. Rua settled his head upon his claw, bringing his heated snout to within an inch of Kael’s face. Perhaps you and I should speak as well.

  “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

  I could tell you a story.

  “I’m sick of your stories, Rua. I’m sick of this whole blasted island!” He slammed his fist into Rua’s claw, but the dragon hardly blinked.

  A shame. I was going to tell you a story about your mate — a secret story she would not want you to hear.

  His lips pulled back in a toothy grin when Kael froze. “Really? Did you … know her, before?”

  I met her only once. But it was a fiery meeting. Would you care to hear it? Very well, he said when Kael nodded. Many, many years ago —

  “Wait a moment.” Kael had an idea. He tightened his grip on Rua’s claw. “Why don’t you show me the story?”

  How would I do that?

  “Think of it exactly as you see it in your head, everything you can remember. I’ll be able to see what you think — it’s, ah, magic.”

  Rua’s eyes widened. It will not hurt me, will it?

  “No. I promise it won’t hurt.”

  After a moment, Rua blasted him with a heated sigh. Very well. I shall think my story, then …

  A vision flickered to life before Kael’s eyes: the hazy image of a group of forest children. They were half-naked and huddled beneath a thick black shadow. Their mouths hung open as they stared up at him — he could read the terror etched into their eyes.

  The shadow moved as a growl drew his vision downwards. A pack of wolves stood between Kael and the children. Their fangs were pulled taut above their teeth, hair bristled down their backs. Their sharp eyes glinted murderously.

  A massive red claw rose above the wolves and the children, darkening the shadow. The wolves’ growling grew louder; the children began to sob.

  “Stop!”

  He knew before Rua’s head turned that it was Kyleigh who’d spoken. Her hair was wild and unkempt. Dirt stained the bits of her flesh that weren’t covered in a rough garb of animal skins. There was a sword strapped to her hip, but it wasn’t Harbinger. Kael hardly got a glimpse of its pommel before she turned away.

  When Rua’s gaze tightened upon her eyes, Kael’s shock nearly shoved him from the vision: all of the green was gone from them, and in their place were a dragon’s eyes — black slits wreathed in yellow flame.

  “I know why you’re here, dragon. I know you’ve come to punish this human for breaking our treaty.” The black slits widened as they drifted over to the wolves. “Destroy us, if you must. But please … spare these creatures and their fledglings.”

  The thunder of Rua’s reply flattened the wolves’ ears and made the children wail. But Kyleigh never flinched.

  Instead, her eyes closed tightly. “Please, listen to … he’ll never listen,” she growled suddenly. When her eyes snapped open, they were human eyes — orbs as clear and blue as the frozen seas. Her hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword. “You aren’t listening, dragon. So I’m going to explain this in a way you’ll understand: harm my pack, and I’ll send your soul screaming into the under-realm.”

  She ripped the sword free: a thick weapon with a blade that burned white-hot. The vision — and the forest — shook as Rua staggered backwards. His gaze fixed upon the sword, how its blade seemed to churn within the confines of its edges — how the ferocity of the heat boiling from its heart made it seem almost … liquid.

  When Kyleigh swung the blade into the flesh of a nearby tree, white fire burst from the sword. Rua’s eyes clamped shut against its blinding light. Kael heard a thud in the darkness. When Rua’s eyes peeled open, he saw that the tree lay on its side — burned mercilessly through its hundred years of rings by the blade Kyleigh now brandished at his face.

  Sweat poured from her head and down her chin. The heat of the sword burned red into her cheeks, but she made no move to sheath it. “Leave us, or I’ll swing for your throat.”

  Rua’s voice rumbled. His claw came down upon the earth between them in defiance. Kyleigh swung her blade aside and an arc of molten liquid spewed from its edges, burning into the skin of the rock beneath her.

  “Very well, dragon. You’ve chosen death — no!” Her body convulsed. Her eyes slammed shut again and opened yellow. “He’ll kill the little ones before you have a chance to slay him. Let me speak to him. Why do you want to hurt us so badly?” she said, lo
oking up to Rua. “Why do you wish to harm those we love?”

  She held the sword out beside her, frowning as Rua grumbled something under his breath.

  “My mate was a passionate soul. His temper often shook our Motherlands — but he was strong enough to bear it. Our daughter is not as strong,” Kyleigh whispered. “She needs your strength, dragon. She needs your calm. It is … difficult, I understand. And even I have fallen to the binding power of the valtas. But you must try to bear her anger wisely, as I often did for Dorcha.”

  Rua’s claw ground into the earth as he growled something back.

  Kyleigh’s shoulders rose and fell. “What’s been done to me cannot be undone. The human and I are one … and what pains her will pain me, as well. However angry my daughter might be with the human, I do not think she would wish me harm.”

  Rua’s stare cut back to the wolves. It sharpened upon their throats.

  “Please, listen …” Kyleigh blinked, and her eyes were blue. She slid the sword back into its sheath and her hands went to her belt. Slowly, she undid its clasp. “I’m sorry I broke your treaty, dragon. I thought if I were stronger, I might be able to free my sister. But by the time I woke, the world I knew was gone. The draega are gone. All of the other flyers have vanished. I have no idea where to find them. There’s nothing I can do against the King’s mages. My story is at its end. So, if you must take something …”

  She shook her head. The dragon’s eyes were back, widening. “No, human — not your relic …” The blue returned: “I must. He wants some sort of payment … but it’s all you have of your people … my people are lost … no, not lost …”

  Her eyes flicked between yellow and blue so quickly that it was impossible to tell which half of her was speaking. Then they slammed shut — tightly. Kyleigh’s hands froze upon her belt and she stumbled backwards. Rua’s vision was locked unblinkingly upon her face.

  When her lids burst open, her eyes were no longer blue or yellow — but a pure, fiery green. She sank to her knees, as if she’d been exhausted. She seemed to be fighting to stay awake.

  “No, not lost,” she murmured again, her gaze sliding over to the wolves. “My people have merely changed. I’ve found a new home, a new nest. They’ve given me all the life I thought I’d lost. Here, dragon.” She pushed the sword as her body crumpled to the ground, sliding it towards Rua. “Take the relic, if you want — in payment for what I’ve done. Without its power … and without the draega … there’s no reason the dragons should ever … fear again.”

  Kael let go.

  He knew what happened next: Kyleigh would wake to Hollowfang — who would tell her that she’d done a great thing for the wolves. That sword was the treasure she’d given up for them, the fire His-Dorcha feared, the thing Riona called a relic. Only it wasn’t just any relic …

  It was the sword of Sir Gorigan.

  CHAPTER 37

  The Valtas

  Rua became nothing more than a red blur as Kael pieced it all together. “Daybreak,” he whispered, still not daring to believe it. “The sword she gave you was Daybreak, wasn’t it?”

  Yes, the great fire of the halved ones, placed into my claws. A fair payment, I thought. Molten red singed Rua’s muzzle as he glared. But then Dorcha was taken from us suddenly, and we began to think the payment was not so fair. When his halved body sailed into our Motherlands, his might corrupted by a human soul, we knew it was entirely false. Your-Kael lied to us: the halved ones survived their fall, and they have begun to steal our souls once more.

  My-Rua wanted them dead, he went on. And as he spoke, the red scales across his muzzle started to cool. But I knew to kill the halved ones would only start another war. They are short-lived things, I told her. The humans must simply be reminded. I took My-Rua’s fury and held it away from her, so that she could see the things I saw. Though I admit I have not always held it wisely, he added with a tilt of his head, I did keep My-Rua from tearing Your-Kael’s chest apart. And that, little human, is a thing to smile about.

  Kael was still too confused to smile. He dug through Rua’s story, trying to remember everything Kyleigh had said. “She called Your-Rua her daughter.”

  Yes, my mate is the fledging of Dorcha and His-Dorcha.

  “The halved ones are really these draega.”

  And the ancient guardians of the Wildlands, yes.

  “And you hid Daybreak …?”

  In our … Rua stopped. He blew an indignant breath across Kael’s face. Very clever, human. But even if I told you where it was, you could never reach it. The blade lies in the dark and the cold, forgotten … along with all the other dead things.

  More riddles. Kael lay back and glared up at the sky, his mind still churning with thought.

  Rua leaned in. I know our anger must seem strange to you —

  “Strange doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Kael moaned.

  — but the draega harmed us greatly. Until we met and forged our treaty, they did not understand how their rituals hurt us. They broke us into pieces. They destroyed our hearts. The draega killed the mated, human. And we do not kill the mated unless we have no other choice.

  “Well, I very distinctly remember you blasting me with fire.”

  For that, you must forgive me, Rua said, a surprising amount of heaviness in his voice. We had been watching you for many days, and we all agreed that you were merely hatchmates.

  Kael wasn’t entirely certain what a hatchmate was — but he could guess. “You thought Kyleigh was my sister?” His face burned when Rua nodded. “How could you have possibly thought that? You saw us kissing!”

  Rua’s head tilted again. The odd thing you did with your mouths? That is a … mating practice, for humans?

  “Very much so.”

  Ah. We all agreed you were merely exchanging food.

  “I don’t care what you all agreed on!” Kael snapped, his face burning furiously. “That’s not what we were doing.”

  Rua’s eyes slid away. It seems a shame to keep the mating at your mouths when there is so much your bodies could —

  “No, enough!” Kael shouted. More than anything, he didn’t want to be forced to listen to a dragon’s speech on mating — especially when that speech would be ringing inside his head. Even if he could’ve reached his ears to cover them, it wouldn’t have helped. It was entirely unfair.

  Rua didn’t seem bothered by his outburst. In fact, his enormous head bent closer — blocking every last ray of light with its spiny girth. There is something I have been meaning to ask you, human. It is something that has vexed me from the moment I first watched you.

  “As long as it isn’t a question about mating,” Kael said. He swore he felt the tug on the roots of his hair when Rua breathed in.

  I cannot promise it has nothing to do with mating. Your practices are very strange. But I’ll ask it anyways. One of his great eyes shut and opened. What does that mean?

  Kael had no idea what he was talking about. “What does what mean?”

  This. When his eye closed and shut again, Kael realized what he was trying to do.

  “It’s a wink.”

  A wink? I see. It is something that requires a great amount of skill, is it not? To close one eye before the other? I have been practicing for days — ever since I saw your mate do it to you. Tell me, human: what is the meaning of a wink?

  There were countless meanings, and Kael had no interest in explaining them all to Rua. But he remembered the wink he was talking about: “She does that to annoy me — especially when she mentions something she knows will make me uncomfortable.”

  Strange that she would like to tease you. Stranger still that you seem to enjoy it. But I suppose every pairing is different. Had I known you shared the valtas, I never would have tried to harm you. It seemed impossible, you understand, for a halved one to bond with a human. But once I discovered you had magic, it all makes sense.

  “How so?”

  Rua inclined his head. The Wildlands are not as they us
ed to be. Mages have taken it over. It is far too dangerous a place for a dragon. But Your-Kael chose you as her soul’s protector because you can wield the magic. She has no need to fear the power her mate possesses.

  Kael supposed that made sense — even though he didn’t actually have any magic, he could still protect her from it. “Rua … what is the valtas?”

  You don’t know?

  “Kyleigh wouldn’t tell me.”

  Rua gave him a long look before his neck bent upwards and his spiny chin pointed towards the sun. I think this is a question better answered with the eyes than the mouth. The sun is high — you should be able to see them, now.

  “See who?”

  Rua’s chin dipped until the spines hovered an inch before Kael’s face. His monstrous head filled every corner of his vision. If I remove my claw, you must stay by my side. You must not go into the valley. Our mates need this moment alone.

  Only after Kael had sworn to behave did Rua release him. No sooner had he gotten to his feet than Rua’s foreclaw wrapped around his middle.

  You move so slowly, human, he growled as he carried Kael to the ledge beside him — which he thought was rather odd, given the fact that the dragons seemed to take their lives one century at a time.

  But before he could say as much, Rua set him down.

  Look, he whispered, nodding towards the valley. There lies everything you need to know about the valtas.

  Thick clouds rolled across the sky above them. The reflections of their darkened bottoms glided across the hills, fitting against every curve and crag — drifting through the grass like creatures beneath the waves.

  The spans of light between them illuminated the valley trapped within the jagged hills. Its bottom was covered in what appeared to be black sand. Ripples coursed along the sand and the sunlight made the grains sparkle. But there was one place inside the valley that the light couldn’t seem to reach.

  Kael thought they were the husks of blackened trees at first: branches stripped of leaves and trunks burned of their bark. They were piled together in a tangle against one of the jagged walls. They seemed to grow darker as the sunlight touched them — the shadows bleeding into every line of gray until they became entirely black.