Harbinger

by Nicole Conway

  Eirik? I asked with my gestures.

  Evacuating with the civilians. He’ll be okay, Calem replied.

  That was a relief. I could think straight again when I cut my gaze back down to the battle below. Hilleddi was making steam straight for the second gateway on the back of that ugly beast. Behind her, the Tibran forces were rallying again. Soldiers were pouring through the gateway by the hundreds. They had brought along more of their war machines, catapults that flung even larger versions of those clay orbs filled with dragon venom.

  This was going to be ugly.

  So far, they hadn’t met with much reprisal except from us. That was part of the plan. I’d advised Aubren to use what remained of his infantrymen wisely. We needed to hold the second and third wall. They were the priority. What we were doing now was just buying them as much time as possible to prepare.

  I quickly relayed a new strategy to my two remaining dragonrider brothers. They signaled they understood and immediately wheeled away in unison to fall back to where the soldiers were still bottlenecked coming through the outermost gate. They continued pouring their venom over the heads of the Tibran soldiers, slowing the progress and giving our comrades as much time as possible.

  Phevos and I, on the other hand, streaked straight for the second gateway. We made a graceful landing at one of the two large turrets overlooking the gate far below.

  One of the infantrymen rushed out to greet us, giving me a hasty salute. “Your Highness!”

  “They’re going to try to beat down the gate,” I warned him. “Pull all the men back and send out the cauldrons. We have to bring down that creature at all costs.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” He gave another swift salute and ran away to carry out my instructions.

  I patted Phevos’s scaly neck. I could feel him panting. His mouth was gaping open and his fangs dripped with globs of his burning venom. He turned his head so one of his bright golden eyes glanced back at me.

  “Ready for this?”

  He blasted a furious snort through his nostrils, slicked his ears back, and licked his jaws. I took that as a “yes.”

  FIVE

  The Tibrans were inside the city now. They filled the streets with the roar of combat and the throbbing beat of war drums. I could only pray that all the citizens of Barrowton who had been living between the second and third wall had chosen to evacuate when they’d had the chance. There was nothing we could do for them now.

  Hilleddi’s huge, lizard-like beast was lumbering down the main street leading to the second gate, knocking over buildings and crushing the sidewalks under its monstrous weight. Behind her was a torrent of her soldiers, many hauling their war machines, and even more on horseback. They were carrying the red banners of the Tibran Empire into yet another one of our cities.

  Just the sight of it made me sick with hate.

  Phevos let out a shriek of delight as Haldor and Calem landed their dragons on either side of us, taking up position on the second wall.

  Out of venom, they both signaled to me. You?

  Two blasts left, maybe three, I replied.

  Our dragons didn’t have an endless supply of their burning venom. They could carry quite a bit at once, but not even close to enough to take on a force like this without reinforcements. It took time, days, for their bodies to generate more.

  In an ideal world, there would have been a hundred other riders behind us ready to take up the fight. But there were only three of us now, and Phevos was the only one who still had any venom left to burn. We were going to have to make it count.

  From where I was sitting, I could see that Haldor’s dragon, a large blue male he called Turq, had taken a few arrows to his scaly hide. He wasn’t hurt too badly—but it was still going to slow him down. Perish looked all right, though. She was still hissing and snarling at the soldiers approaching below us like she wanted to have another go at them.

  On any other occasion, I might have let her have her wish. But I had one task left for them—the only thing that really mattered.

  Fall back to the evacuation tunnel, both of you, I ordered. Aubren and I can hold them here long enough to make sure that any remaining evacuees have a chance to escape. When the third wall is breached, collapse the tunnel and get out.

  Haldor’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly. What about you?

  After a few uncomfortable moments, I signed a reply. I won’t leave my brother behind. If we make it out alive, we will meet you at Cernheist.

  Now Haldor and Calem had both turned to stare at me. I couldn’t see Calem’s face because he was still wearing his helmet, and yet I could sense he didn’t like this plan any more than Haldor did.

  I scowled at them dangerously. Neither of them had ever treated me as though I were fragile before. Now was not the time to start.

  Go now, I ordered.

  Calem obeyed first, giving his dragoness the signal. She spread her white wings and took off toward the keep.

  Haldor was still casting me a hard, unhappy look. His mouth twisted like he was trying to decide if he was going to obey or not. I suppose, of them all, he must have felt most responsible for what might happen to me. He was the only one of us who had been a seasoned rider before this madness had begun. He was the oldest, probably the smartest, and sometimes the most stubborn.

  Not today, though.

  At last, he clasped his hand over his breastplate in a dragonrider salute and took off to follow Calem.

  I watched him soar away. Only when I was sure he was gone did I allow myself to let out a slow, trembling breath of uncertainty. I tried to swallow it, to push down the fear and panic that swelled up inside me. It put a coppery taste in my mouth.

  Then I leaned down against Phevos’s body, and we surged out into the open sky. Three good blasts of flame, that’s all we had left. And I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them.

  As we zoomed over the ramparts, I saw the Maldobarian soldiers wheeling four huge cauldrons into place directly over the gateway. The bottoms of the iron pots were still red hot, and the bubbling contents filled the air with a putrid smell.

  Far below, Hilleddi’s monster had stopped right before the second gateway. It was so massive; I didn’t see how the creature was going to be able to fit through it even if they managed to break the iron-plated gate down. Hilleddi snapped the chains hard with her burly arms, yanking hard on one that was connected to its lower jaw. That forced the creature to open its maw and unleash another sizzling, popping ball of energy. It burst in the air and sent out a shockwave that rattled the very foundation of the city.

  But the gate held fast.

  Hilleddi sneered angrily. She yanked on all three chains this time, and her monster reared back to bash its dome-shaped skull against the gate. The impact made the whole wall shudder. Our infantrymen began to shout orders down their battle lines. Archers took aim and sent down a hailstorm of arrows over the Tibran forces.

  One of them struck Hilleddi. She stumbled, losing her footing for an instant as an arrow lodged deep into one of her bare thighs. But rather than crumpling in pain, that hulking beast of a woman just snarled down at it, grabbed the shaft of the arrow, and ripped it out of her leg as though it were nothing.

  She snapped the chains again, sending her mount into another frenzy. The lizard bashed its head against the gate again. And again. And again.

  On the fourth try, the gate began to give. I could see it faltering, cracking more and more with every strike.

  Suddenly, a horn sounded along the wall.

  The cauldrons were in place. Our soldiers began cranking the mechanized bases, tilting them over. Four waterfalls of boiling black oil washed over the enemy—the beast, Hilleddi, and the first several lines of Tibran soldiers.

  I could hear their screams of pain and terror even from my saddle, high above the battlefield.

  “Okay, boy. Light ’em up!” I twisted the saddle handles and sent Phevos into a rolling dive.

 
; We zipped through the air like a spear, flaring only fifty feet above our panicked enemy’s lines. Phevos breathed in deeply and let loose a burst of flame. The oil caught. Our enemy burned.

  As we retreated skyward, I looked back to see if Hilleddi had survived that attack.

  She was looking right back at me, her armor and bare skin spattered with black oil. Our eyes met through the chaos, and I saw her mouth curl in a menacing smile. She pointed right at me. I knew what that meant.

  Hilleddi was coming for me.

  It took a moment for the Tibrans to regroup after being doused with burning oil. Our archers were still doing a good job of making the most of that moment, keeping them scattered while our troops rallied for open war behind the second wall.

  I found Aubren sitting atop a white horse carrying our father’s banner in one hand and his sword in the other. The golden eagle of Maldobar shone against a field of royal blue. But the sight of it wasn’t inspiring to me. It made resentment twist sourly at my insides. My father should have been sitting there—on that horse—preparing to defend his people.

  All around Aubren, other knights on horseback were forming a line three-deep in the main street right in front of the third and final gate. They were the cavalry and our last real hope. This was where we made our final stand and did everything we could to keep the Tibrans from breaching the third wall.

  Phevos flared to land right before them, startling the first line of horses who reared and whinnied in panic. I noticed that the rider mounted directly beside my brother seemed to be having an especially hard time keeping his horse under control. He also wasn’t holding his shield up properly, and his helmet looked a bit big for him. He must have been a civilian, one of a few who had volunteered to take up arms and hold the city as long as possible.

  “How long?” Aubren shouted to me.

  “Soon,” I called back. “Get ready. Hold fast until you see that big monster fall. I’m going to give them the bitter bite!”

  Aubren’s face paled. “Jenna—no! That’s too dangerous!”

  I wasn’t interested in any of his brotherly speeches about my safety. As if we had time for that nonsense. With a quick salute, Phevos and I took off again, flying low through the city streets. We streaked past the city square where the statue of Jaevid stood atop that stone fountain, and I made a deliberate effort not to look at it.

  As the second gate came into view, I reached down to touch a hand to Phevos’s strong neck. I didn’t know how this would end. But I wanted him to survive.

  “When I’m gone, you don’t stick around here for even one more second, do you understand? Get out of here. Fly far, far away from this place. Find somewhere safe.”

  Phevos flicked a look back at me, chirping and chattering. I couldn’t tell if he understood or not.

  Suddenly, I heard it—the rumbling, booming sound as though the earth itself had been split open. Immediately, warning began to wail all along the ramparts. Hilleddi’s monster had broken through the second gate. The Tibrans were advancing.

  Beneath me, Phevos snarled and let out a vicious roar.

  We soared over the heads of our comrades, still flying low over all the Maldobarian infantrymen who were braced for combat. They cheered at the sight of us, and Phevos let out another trumpeting cry.

  Then I saw her.

  Hilleddi was still standing atop her bone platform as her war beast came lumbering through the shattered gate, splattered with oil. It took out the sides of the stone walls as it pitched and bellowed, worming its way through an opening that was too small.

  Our infantry hurled round after round from catapults at the creature when at last it squirmed through. It took one of the large stone projectiles squarely to the head. The hit looked good. The creature staggered as though it were dazed, and I dared to hope it might fall.

  But that dome-shaped skull must have been thicker than any of us had realized. The monster shook off the blow and continued, crawling forward as its relentless rider snapped the chains again.

  Piercing that skull from the outside wasn’t an option. Fortunately, I had an insane idea—one we called “bitter bite.”

  I stood up and quickly unbuckled from the saddle. Squatting down on Phevos’s back, I waited until I felt him cup his wings a bit, flaring for a rapid deceleration. Suddenly, he took a sharp left turn. I let myself pitch forward and ran headlong down the length of his long tail. Five or six steps down, I couldn’t find good footing, so I jumped and curled my body into a ball. I hit the ground at a roll and stood, whirling around to draw both my blades.

  I looked up, directly into the gaping mouth of that monster. It loomed over me, enormous and still dripping with burning oil. I’d never seen an animal so huge, so alien, or so terrifying.

  “Devour her!” Hilleddi screeched. She snapped the chains again.

  Her monster rumbled and roared in reply. It blasted the air around me with hot, rancid breath.

  I saw the creature’s giant mouth open wide, a literal abyss of toothy darkness ready to swallow me whole.

  SIX

  I let the creature eat me.

  Wet, sticky, smelly darkness closed in from every side. I could feel its massive, soft tongue wriggling under my boots. Thank the gods it didn’t have any chewing teeth that I could see. That would have been a problem. But I didn’t intend on hanging around to find out for sure.

  As soon as I was able to get my footing on its wide, disgusting tongue, I flipped my blades over my hands and drove them both straight up—through the roof of its mouth. I rammed both blades in all the way to the hilt.

  Immediately, the monster started trying to spit me out. My ears rang as it bellowed in pain.

  “Bit off more than you can chew?” I laughed like a maniac as I ripped my swords free and went back for a second blow.

  I must have hit something crucial because suddenly, the slippery, slimy world around me began moving wildly. I rattled around inside the beast’s mouth like a mouse in a toothy cage. I smacked the roof of its mouth, bounced off its tongue, over and over.

  With a final thunderous BOOM, it stopped.

  Lying on my back, I couldn’t see anything except for the inside of the monster’s mouth directly above me. The little bit of daylight seeping through its teeth only faintly illuminated it. I couldn’t hear the beast breathing anymore.

  Everything was still.

  Slowly, I staggered to my feet and began looking for my weapons. I only found one of my swords, though. The other one had either been slung out of the creature’s mouth in the chaos or swallowed. Either way, it was gone.

  I started pushing and pulling at the monster’s teeth, using my whole body to begin prying its jaws apart. Once I could get an arm through, I began wrenching myself through the crack and back out into the daylight.

  I was met with a crowd of Maldobarian soldiers as I stumbled out of its mouth. They stared at me with wide, astonished eyes, their mouths hanging open.

  I took a quick look around for Hilleddi. Surely, she’d be storming in to avenge her war beast any moment, right? But the platform where she’d been standing was empty. Hilleddi was nowhere in sight.

  Now was my chance to regroup.

  “Has anyone seen my dragon?” I asked as I wiped some of the monster’s nasty, bloody slobber off my face.

  One of the soldiers standing at the front silently pointed a shaking hand off to the left.

  “Thanks.” I sheathed my one remaining sword, raked some of my slobber-soaked hair out of my face, and went marching off to find him.

  Hilleddi’s troublesome war beast was dead, but the battle raged on through Barrowton. Shops and homes burned. The cobblestone streets ran with blood. War horses ran in panicked herds, their saddles empty and their banners aflame.

  Aubren’s men were playing it smart. They held the cavalry in reserve, guarding the final gateway, while the rest of their infantry brothers fought guerilla style through the city—hiding in bu
ildings and making deathtraps of the city squares as the Tibrans tried to advance. I had to give Aubren some credit. He didn’t have the mind of a killer. He was much more like our mother, who didn’t enjoy warfare at all. Despite that, both he and his men were holding out a lot longer than I had anticipated.

  Maybe, just maybe, we would be able to get out of this alive. We wouldn’t win, of course, but we might live to tell about it.

  I darted down an alleyway, zigzagging through the narrower streets with my eyes on the sky as I made my way back in the direction of the third gate. That was where we’d planned to make our last stand, and I knew Aubren would still be waiting there. I just hoped Phevos would be waiting for me, too.

  The echoing sounds of combat rang out from the larger streets. Soldiers were marching in formation, the thunder of their footsteps mingled with the clash and clatter of sword and steel. The snap—whoosh—BOOM of catapult fire rattled every street corner.

  Sprinting as fast as I could, I cut through a backstreet that emptied into the large city square where Jaevid’s fountain stood in the center. I skidded to a halt and checked the skies for Phevos again. But he was nowhere to be found.

  All around me, Maldobarian soldiers locked blades with our Tibran enemies. The air was heavy with the coppery tinge of blood. I was less than half a mile from the third gate, and any moment now, I expected to see Aubren’s cavalry come thundering through the street on horseback.

  Suddenly, the warning sirens behind the third wall began to wail in the air. They were a slightly higher pitch than the rest and created an eerie harmony with the others. Immediately, I looked up toward the keep, and my heart stopped for an instant.

  I could see fire in the windows.

  The Tibrans had breached the third wall already? But how? Hilleddi’s beast was down. It was dead—I’d made sure of that.

  Panic and anger welled in me like a torrent of flame.

  A Tibran soldier tried to rush me, using his round bronze shield like a battering ram. I must have looked like an easy target, even if I was dressed in a dragonrider’s armor and cloak—a little woman with long, golden hair standing all alone.