My body felt strangely cold, even under all my armor.
Aubren looked back at me, flashing a brief, thin smile that had died long before it ever touched his eyes. “I am proud of you, my sister. Perhaps I’ve never done a very good job of showing it. But of the two of us, you have always been far braver. I am confident you will make a fine queen.”
“That’s not—”
He cut me off with a wave of his hand before I could finish. “There was something else I came here to tell you in case I don’t have the opportunity to tell you later. I think you need to know.”
I watched his expression cloud over with a darkness I didn’t understand. “What? What is it?”
“The boy I brought back from Luntharda. Reigh—I believe he might be our brother. I’m not sure how, but I think Kiran was up to something. I didn’t want to tell you this until I had some real evidence, but now we’re out of time.”
I struggled with what to do with that information. That boy was my little brother? How could that be possible? Had my father had a love affair? When? With who?
I guess Aubren could read my puzzled, frustrated expressions more easily than I’d anticipated. He smiled, chuckled, and waved his hand again like it didn’t matter. I guess now, with the city of Barrowton about to be overrun, it really didn’t.
“Take care of yourself, Jenna,” he said softly. “If not in this lifetime, I’ll see you again on the other side.”
That wasn’t how I’d wanted to leave things with Aubren. I should have said something—anything—to let him know I loved him. Gods and Fates, I loved that idiot more than anything.
But the moment was gone and so was he.
The wind howled past my helmet as Phevos and I were hurled into the sky by the launcher. With his powerful hind legs curled, my dragon waited until the launcher reached the very end of the tunnel to spring forward with the momentum of the wooden sleigh that had flung us out into the air. He spread his mighty wings wide, catching the wind and climbing steeply into the sky.
I moved with him, gripping the handles of my saddle and flexing my legs to lean into his speed. I could feel every one of his powerful muscles working around me, his strong wing arms pumping, his sides swelling with deep breaths, and his tail whipping to counterbalance the added weight of me and the saddle.
Overhead, I saw Haldor and Eirik already aligning to begin their first pass. Our plan was simple—we were going to give the Tibrans hell as they approached the city and then keep them pinned between the second and third wall for as long as possible. With so few of us in number, there wasn’t much more we could do. Our last act, of course, would be to destroy the entrance to the evacuation tunnels so that the Tibrans couldn’t pursue any of the fleeing citizens into the mountains. Until that time came, we had to stall our enemy. Every minute gave someone else a chance to get to safety.
I steered Phevos into a steep turn, looking back as the launcher spat out the last of our company. Calem sat astride his white and silver dragon, a lithe female he called Perish. It was a fitting name. She was known for being extremely high-spirited and temperamental, and she’d killed the last two riders who had tried to own her. Calem’s family had gotten her at a discounted price, both because of that nasty reputation and the fact that her near-albino coloring was less than desirable for most dragonriders. It made her very easy to spot.
Perish swooped into formation behind me like a sterling comet, her scarlet eyes glittering, watching us for cues.
I gave Calem a series of hand signals, communicating to him what we were about to do. He gave me a thumbs-up in reply. Time to go.
Below us, the battle was already underway. Maldobarian soldiers on the ramparts fired catapults into the oncoming hoard of Tibran warriors. They’d brought a force larger than I could have imagined in my wildest nightmare. They came like a flood, thousands upon thousands of soldiers carrying bronze shields and pikes. Within minutes they would be at the outermost wall.
I set my jaw and twisted the saddle handles, adding a bit of pressure against Phevos’s hide to tell him how to turn and move. He dropped into a steep, blitzing dive. We made a low pass, moving in perfect unison with Calem and Perish, and I gave both handles an inward twist. Immediately, I felt Phevos’s sides swell as he took in a deep breath. As soon as we were within range, he opened his mouth and poured out a shower of burning venom upon the first two ranks of Tibran soldiers.
Behind us, I heard Perish doing the same. The sound of the roaring flames from their burning venom mingled with the roar of battle. The wailing sirens. The snap and boom of catapult fire. The cries of men as they burned. The clatter of sword and shield. The pulse of war drums.
This was a dark symphony I knew all too well.
Calem and I made pass after pass, scorching the Tibran ranks until their numbers overwhelmed ours. We couldn’t douse them fast enough to stop their progression. They reached the first wall and broke upon it like waves upon a rocky shore. But as Phillip had warned, that outermost wall had taken a real beating in the last battle. The gates were compromised, and they fell quickly to the brunt force of the Tibran army.
Right on cue, Haldor and Eirik fell into formation beside Calem and me. They gave me the signals, gesturing that they were ready. It was time to hold the boundary.
I gave them all a dragonrider salute—clasping my hand into a fist and holding my arm across my chest.
Every one of them saluted back.
Then, as one, we spiraled downward to begin our attack.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Haldor reach back and pull his bow from his saddle sleeve and notch an arrow. Not many dragonriders could wield a bow in flight and hit anything with it. He was a crack-shot, though. He rose, standing in the boot-sheaths that held his legs to the saddle, and began firing one shot after another. He picked off a dozen Tibran cavalrymen as they rode in through the gate on ironclad horses.
It was hard not to be impressed.
We dropped in low, flying swift figure-eight patterns around the gate where the bulk of the Tibran soldiers were forced into a bottleneck. We set them ablaze, and they fired volley after volley of projectiles in an attempt stop us. They flung clay orbs filled with dragon venom from slingshot-like contraptions. They also had a rolling, horse-drawn machine that could fire spears like arrows. All of this we had seen before. We knew how to dodge, how to pitch our flight patterns so that we were more difficult to hit.
But when she appeared—it was something none of us had ever seen before.
FOUR
Through the licking flames that engulfed the gateway of the outermost wall, the silhouette of a monstrous beast appeared. I couldn’t tell what it was until it lumbered through the opening, bearing a rider on its back. It looked like a reptile, maybe some distant cousin to our dragons, but it had no wings. Rather, it crawled along on thick, muscular legs and had a long tail that was tipped with a bony, club-shaped growth. The creature was dragging iron chains that were bolted through the flesh of its forelegs. The chains were handled like reins by the rider, who stood on a raised platform fixed to the creature’s back. It was made from a mixture of twisted metal and something white that I couldn’t identify. When we made another pass, however, I saw it much more clearly.
They were bones. That saddle, platform, or whatever they called it had been crafted from bleached skulls and bones bolted together.
I saw the rider look up at us with a delighted sneer from the back of her monster. I had seen her in combat before—one of the leaders of the Tibran Empire.
They called her Hilleddi.
The creature she rode was much larger than our dragons, more than double in size. It lumbered clumsily, making its way toward the second gateway. The form of the monster’s head, with no eyes and a dome-shaped protrusion of bone that looked like it was made for bashing, gave me an idea of what was in store for us. That creature was a living battering ram.
I couldn’t resist a snarl.
Phevos and I dove in, ready to blast her with dragon flame. Calem and Perish were on our tail, and I could see Eirik and Haldor already taking up a defensive position around the second gateway. We surged toward her, our dragons flying side by side. They breathed in at the same moment, unleashing an inferno upon Hilleddi and her pet.
Suddenly, an explosion rocked the air in front of us. It sent us flipping end over end through the air. Phevos struggled to regain control, trying to twist himself in midair to take the brunt of the blow as we slammed against the ground.
A chaos of rubble and scales blurred my vision. My ears rang. My body ached and tingled. I was dazed—unsure if I was alive, dead, or somewhere in between.
Then Phevos stirred, starting to get up. He was all right—just stunned. That made two of us.
I looked up hazily through the eye slit in my helmet to see Hilleddi and her monster prowling straight for us. They were less than two hundred yards away. We didn’t have much time.
“Get up,” I coaxed Phevos as he shook himself and snapped his jaws angrily. “We have to get off the ground!”
I still didn’t understand what had happened. What was that explosion? Where had it come from?
Then I saw Eirik and Haldor swoop in to our defense. They made a swift pass between Hilleddi and me, and their dragons spat two plumes of burning venom at the monster she rode. An instant before the flames could touch them, her monster opened its massive maw and returned fire with something—a ball of wild energy that sizzled and snapped like electricity. It hovered, suspended in the air for a fleeting second until the flames touched it.
Then it exploded with bone-rattling force.
I braced against the shockwave is it rolled over us, hunkering down against Phevos’s back. When the dust began to settle, I squinted to find my dragonrider brothers.
To my right, Calem and Perish were getting up, already flaring for takeoff. They both looked okay. On my left, Haldor and his mount were shaking off the impact and beginning to stand as well. But Eirik—I didn’t see him anywhere.
I looked back.
As the dust cleared, I spotted him. Eirik’s dragon had been thrown farther than the rest of us. He must have taken the full force of that creature’s attack. I could tell just by how it was lying that it was already dead. Its wings were splayed out and its head twisted around at an awkward angle. Then I noticed that it was lying on its back—saddle down.
And I couldn’t see Eirik anywhere. That meant … he hadn’t gotten out of the saddle before impact. He was pinned underneath with over a thousand pounds of dragon crushing down on him.
A scream of rage and panic tore out of my chest.
Haldor must have heard me, even over the roar of combat. He kicked out of his saddle and began sprinting the distance to where Eirik’s dragon lay. Any other time, that would have been a stupid thing to do, but I knew what he was planning, and I wasn’t about to let him try to do it alone.
I unbuckled myself quickly and sprang out of my saddle. Phevos nipped at my shoulder, growling disapprovingly. I wasn’t supposed to leave him in the heat of battle like this. Spinning around, I grabbed his scaly snout and pressed my lips against his nose. “Hold them off as long as you can!”
It was hard to say just how much of what I said he understood. But our bond was strong, and he was no mere dumb animal. When I turned to run, I heard Phevos take off. He let out a thundering cry that made Haldor’s dragon rise to join him. I watched over my shoulder for a moment as our dragons zoomed toward Hilleddi and that awful creature. This time, however, they didn’t spit flame. They attacked it outright, going in with their claws and fangs bared.
I dove into a sprint toward where Haldor was already trying to roll the dead dragon over. He shouted as he strained, stepping back and throwing off his helmet in frustration. I skidded to a halt beside him and began to help.
Together, we fought and struggled. My fingers slipped, even with the resin-coated palms of the riding gauntlets helping me get a firmer grip. My back creaked. I let out a string of curses until—at last—I could feel the weight of the dragon’s body beginning to shift.
“L—nnngh—mmph!!” A muffled cry came from under the dead beast.
It was Eirik. He was still alive.
Hearing his call for help gave me a new rush of adrenaline. I pulled up even harder, and Haldor joined in the effort. Little by little, we managed to roll the dragon’s limp body over. Suddenly, a hand shot out from under it. Without a second of hesitation, I grabbed it and began to pull while Haldor strained to keep the dragon’s weight off him. He wasn’t going to be able to keep it up for more than a few seconds on his own, so I was ruthless as I dragged Eirik out of the way.
I had just gotten his legs free when Haldor’s strength finally gave out. He dropped the beast with a yelp and a thud—but it was all right. Eirik was free.
The three of us lay in the dirt for a moment, panting and shaking off the astonishment of what had just happened.
Then I heard Haldor rasp, “We’ve got to keep moving.”
He was right. Behind us, our dragons were still brawling with Hilleddi’s monster like two cats fighting a much bigger dog. They were doing a good job of keeping her occupied—for now.
“Can you stand?” I asked Eirik.
“C-Can’t f-feel my l-leg,” he stammered from under his helmet. I bent down to slip it off his head. Underneath, his face looked all right. There were no obvious head injuries. Even so, his pupils were dilated, and his skin looked ashen. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He was in shock.
Looking down, I could see that his armor was probably the only reason he was still alive. His breastplate, pauldrons, and thick belt had prevented him from being mashed flat by his dragon’s dead weight. But one of his legs had been crushed even inside his riding greaves and boots. It was badly broken. He wouldn’t be able to walk, much less ride.
“I-Is it bad?” he wheezed.
I bit down hard. “No worse than usual.”
“Y-You’re a t-terrible liar.” He chuckled weakly. His expression became strangely distant, and he looked over to Haldor. “Y-You gotta l-leave me here. G-Get out while y-you can.”
Haldor’s expression sharpened. He opened his mouth like he was going to protest. Before he could get a word out, the ground shuddered beneath us. Perish landed only a few yards away, her white wings spread and her mouth open as she hissed.
Load him up. I’ll get him out. Calem gestured to us using our code of hand signals.
We didn’t stop to ask questions. Haldor and I got Eirik onto his one good foot and helped him limp over to Perish’s side. He swooned and sagged between us, barely conscious as we hauled him up into the saddle in front of Calem.
I patted his cheek and smiled. “Don’t you dare die on us now, you hear? Remember, war heroes who are wounded in battle are rewarded with a kiss from the queen when they return. Since there is no queen, I guess you’ll have to make do with me.”
I saw a bit of lively color rush back into his cheeks. “C-Careful. I’ll hold y-you to that.”
Haldor and I backed away as Perish flared for takeoff. She shot skyward, streaking away and disappearing over the second wall. I glanced sideways to my last remaining dragonrider brother.
He was already fitting an arrow into his bowstring. “Shall we, then?”
I drew my two blades from the sheaths at my waist and nodded. “We shall.”
We held the line as long as we could—long enough to give our friends time to evacuate. But two dragonriders against Hilleddi’s monster and all the forces of the Tibran Empire wasn’t a fair match.
Fighting back to back, Haldor and I cut through ranks of Tibrans. Their bronze shields were broad and thick, their short swords were sharp and fast, but we had spent years in training for a moment just like this. They came at us from every side, and nearby I could always hear the bellowing roars and snarls of our dragons locked in combat with Hilleddi’s mount.
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Haldor brandished his bow until his quiver was empty. Then he drew his sword and took up one of the shields from a fallen Tibran soldier. His reflexes were lightning fast, and his face was drawn into a feral, blood-spattered snarl.
The bellow of another dragon drew my attention upward where Calem and Perish were wheeling overhead. They were ready to rejoin the fight. It was time to change tactics again.
I reached into my belt and took out a thin, silver whistle. It wasn’t unlike a dog whistle, and the sound was so high-pitched, no one else would be able to hear it. As soon I blew into it with repeated short blasts, Phevos answered me. He let out a high-pitched returning call.
“Get ready!” I shouted to Haldor.
The dragons zoomed low over the battlefield, headed straight for us. At the last possible second, I sheathed both my blades. Haldor ran up next to me and we both jumped skyward, hands outstretched. I may or may not have used a few dead Tibran soldiers as a springboard, too. They didn’t seem to mind.
Phevos and Haldor’s dragon snapped their wings in tightly and rolled over, spinning in the air like two scaly arrows. They turned so that their saddles faced down. We jumped.
For one breathless moment, I was hanging in the air, reaching with all my might toward the saddle as it passed above me. My palms caught the saddle handles. I clenched my teeth and hung on.
Phevos snatched me off my feet at an incredible speed. But the instant he felt my weight, he rolled back over and spread his wings. Arrows and spears zipped past us. I crammed my feet down into the boot sheaths to anchor myself and gave quick hand signals to Haldor.
Calem and Perish dropped in beside us, wanting an injury report. I signaled back that we were fine. No injuries—so far.
Harbinger Page 3
