by Megg Jensen
"She is Adam's sister. Your daughter. How could I not try to love the little rat? If she'll give me a chance, I will care for her, too."
Bastian laughed, his shoulders shaking. "She hasn't been very nice to you, has she?"
"Not in the least," Pia said. "I wasn't exactly kind toward her, either. Nor any of the other children. I have a lot to make up to them once we arrive in our new home."
"I think you'll find them a welcoming bunch of kids. Just give them time and they'll warm up." Bastian gave Pia a quick hug. "Now, off with you. It looks like they're beginning to load the howdahs."
"Our night together changed my life forever. Thank you for that." Pia smiled, her eyes soft. "Good luck. Take care of yourself."
Bastian watched his family walk away. Hazel fell into step beside Bastian’s family, ushering her two boys ahead of her. The dragonlings followed behind, happy to be with the other children.
Bastian’s gaze lingered only a few moments. He turned away. He would not look until he was sure they had disappeared over the horizon. He had to let them go, and it had to be now.
Bastian's hand rested on the sword at his hip. He much preferred the steel in his hand over his dragon form. It was a blade he had forged himself long ago. He wouldn't be fighting with it, though. His new weapons were fire and talons, which he had only recently learned how to use. His confidence in them was not the same as his sword. Yet he had no choice. The war ahead would decide their fate, and if they won, Bastian swore he would never turn into a dragon ever again.
He'd mistrusted dragons from the start. Many times his wariness had proven an advantage. Even though his closest friends and he had been changed irrevocably, Bastian knew the transformation came with a price.
Bastian had died once. Every breath now was stolen. Deep down he feared he'd only risen just to be killed again.
Chapter Twenty
The skies to the east were quiet, but a dark cloud loomed in the distance. It slowly moved toward Bastian, coming ever closer to the Meadowlands. He squinted.
"What is that?" Jakob had come up quietly behind him with a falcon on his arm. With the chaos in the Outpost, it was no wonder Bastian hadn’t heard the man. Everyone was scrambling to begin the exodus.
"A thundercloud," Bastian said. "Rain will be here by mid-morning."
Jakob raised his arm, and the brown bird of prey spread its wings, taking to the sky. The two men stood silent, watching it travel east. Suddenly, the falcon paused in mid-flight, then plunged to the ground.
Jakob ran, scooping up the falcon in his hands and carrying it carefully back to Bastian. "Its heart has stilled. Dead."
"Was it old?" Bastian asked.
Jakob looked up at Bastian, fear flooding his eyes. "No. It was my heartiest bird. Something killed it." His head turned slowly toward the east again, looking at the dark gray mass in the sky, growing larger with each passing moment. "That is no cloud. Sound the alarm!"
A bell clanged in the village square, ringing frantically over and over until Bastian's ears felt numb. His heart pounded. This was it. The attack.
He looked to the cloud again, watching it undulate as it crawled ever closer.
"Bastian! Over here," Jakob called, waving him on.
Bastian ran toward Jakob. The people who were supposed to leave began moving much faster. Children were pushed ahead by mothers. Old men smacked their canes on the ground, trying to get to their designated dragons before the enemy arrived.
All over the Outpost, people changed into dragons while others hoisted howdahs onto their backs. They secured them under the dragons' bellies, pulling the straps tight enough to keep the baskets from tipping, yet still allowing the dragons their full wingspan. They'd practiced before, but when met with an oncoming enemy, fingers began to fumble.
The first wave of people scrambled into their dragon's howdah. It listed slightly to the side and fell to the ground. Screams rang out through the village as more people rushed to help those who'd fallen to the ground. A violent shriek stood out above all others.
"She's trapped under the dragon's belly!" a voice called out.
The dragon wrestled to stand, but the weight of the howdah kept it on the ground, its legs clawing uselessly at the air, not finding purchase. The injured person continued screaming, her voice the loudest. People rushed to pull her out, but their efforts would be useless unless the dragon moved.
Bastian turned into his dragon, a bright emerald Green. He grasped the howdah with his teeth, pulling until its ties snapped free. The other dragon stood quickly, revealing a blond woman on the ground, her leg twisted at an ugly angle.
Two physics ran to her side, examining her leg before lifting her and carrying her to the nearest inn.
Bastian changed back into his human form and stalked away, angry. His children were supposed to get in one of those things and they couldn't even get one off the ground without injuring someone. How would they ever get across the sea?
He'd already said goodbye to them, given them his blessing to leave, and now he didn't want them to go anywhere. But it was too late.
Farah held onto the ropes, her face framed by the lines of the basket. She wiped away a tear, then reached out a hand toward her father. Bastian raised his hand into the air, giving her a smile and a wave. It took everything in him not to run over and pull both of his children from that howdah.
They took to the sky. The howdah remained steady and, most importantly, attached. When Connor got back with word from the Charred Barrens, Bastian could at least tell him they'd left safely. He wouldn't mention the first botched attempt.
Bastian sighed, looking toward the west. Hazel was only a blue dot now. He couldn't even make out the basket on her back. Within moments she was gone from view. Though Bastian knew there was a chance he'd never see his children again, he was surprised for how watching them disappear into the distance made him feel so empty.
Jakob clapped Bastian on the shoulder. "You're a good man. You know this is the right thing to do."
Even though he didn't want to admit it, Bastian did understand. The plan was smart and the best way to protect the innocent.
"Which set of armor is mine?" Bastian asked as he followed Jakob into the barn. Others were racing in behind them. Armor hung from the rafters, gleaming in the candlelight. Bastian was surprised to see how many different kinds there were. Some were decorated with spikes protruding from the forehead. Others had long chains hanging from them, studded with sharp metal wheels.
His eyes rested on a set of armor that was different from all the rest. It was polished to a shiny black and decorated with red swirls.
"I see you've already found it," Jakob said. "Blythe made it just for you. After getting to know you, she felt bad that we made you a Green. She thought you might have preferred to be a Black, like the woman you love. The red swirls are because of your hair color."
Bastian climbed the wooden ladder to his armor, running his hand along its smooth surface. It was beautiful. And while he might have mentioned Tressa in passing to Blythe once, he never told her that he was still in love with his childhood sweetheart. Women had their ways of gleaning information from the smallest tidbit. Blythe had read him as easily as those prophetic texts she kept hidden in the secret room of their church.
He unhooked the armor, letting it fall to the pile of straw below just like the other warriors had. Back on the ground, he dragged his armor out into the open field. Surprised by its light weight, Bastian hoped the armor would hold against an attack.
He changed into his dragon, stuck his head into the headpiece, and waited for one of the squires to secure the strap under his chin.
Bastian looked up into the sky while he waited. He took a deep breath, reminding himself this was only the beginning.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bastian burst into the sky as fast as his wings could take him, leading the first wave of dragons. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Fire burbled in the back of his throat. Bastian held
back. He didn't know yet what awaited him in that unnatural cloud.
As he sped closer, the strange black cloud began to take a more ominous shape. It was composed of individual, skeletal bodies that were charred black, with wings protruding from their crooked spines, swords and shields grasped in their hands.
Bastian took a deep breath, then slowed down. The other dragons fell in behind him. Rushing at the shields at full speed would knock some of the winged skeletons out of the sky, but would also give the skeletons a chance to drive their swords through the dragon's scales. Bastian flapped his wings, holding in his position instead of attacking.
The cloud slowed, seemingly cautious as well.
The sky vibrated with anticipation. Someone would have to attack first.
A howl tore through the tension, and the skeletons attacked.
Breaking from their formation, the skeletons scattered. They looked disorganized, but Bastian had a feeling it was a well-planned maneuver. He and the other dragons banded together in a circle, their armor facing out toward the horde of skeletons. They held tight, bracing themselves against the coming onslaught.
The skeletons slammed into the dragons’ reinforced circle, rebounding off their armor and falling back onto their own. The skeletons scrambled to regroup as the dragons attacked.
Bastian blew fire, but it did nothing to the skeletons. The blank eyes of a skeleton mocked Bastian, its jaws clacking together in laughter. It swiped with a bony arm, its sword grazing Bastian's scales.
He roared in anger. If fire wouldn't work, then brute force would. Bastian slammed into the skeleton with all his might. Its bones splintered and cracked, but still it fought on. Bastian snatched its wings with his teeth, shaking until the wings tore off and the skeleton fell to the ground, its bones scattering. He waited a moment. It didn't move. Good. It was dead.
Bastian flew back into the fray, attacking in a frenzy, taking down skeleton after skeleton. The other dragons fought just as fiercely until the sky no longer held any winged skeletons. The ground was littered with their bones.
The dragons descended to the grass. Bastian changed into his human form. His armor, as well as that of Jakob and Blythe, was picked up in the talons of three of the retreating dragons. Bastian kicked the bones of the skeletons. He leaned over and hefted the sword of one in his hand. It was light, too light to do much damage.
"What do you make of this?" he asked as he sauntered over to Jakob, who was also puzzling over the dead battalion.
"These swords never would have hurt us," Jakob said. "I don't see any injured dragons. So what was their purpose?"
Blythe brushed dirt from her dress as she stepped over the bones on her way to them. "Did we kill all of them? Were there any that got away?"
Jakob shook his head. "Not that I saw. You?"
Bastian also hadn't seen any escape. "We would have given chase. This is all that's left of them."
"We do not have the manpower to bury all of them," Blythe said. "We'll exhaust ourselves if we try. It's too big of a job. We'll have to leave them."
"Why send them after us at all? If it is a test, there are none left to report back. All they've done is annoy us." Bastian picked up a skull and looked deep into the empty eye sockets. "It's not intelligent. There is nothing to guide its actions."
"It is a mystery we simply can't solve right now," Jakob said. "I think we ought to get back to the Outpost and make sure our people are still leaving as they're supposed to. Their safety is the most important thing right now. We can't sit out here in a field filled with bones all day."
Jakob and Blythe took the sky before Bastian could even answer, heading back toward the Outpost.
Bastian stood alone surrounded by the bones of the little army that had attacked them. He still couldn't shake the feeling they were missing something. Bastian looked at the skull again hoping for answers, but none came.
He changed into his dragon, grabbed the skull by its eye sockets with his talons, and took off after the rest of the Green dragons. When he arrived in town, he quickly changed again, hiding the skull under his cloak. He hurried to the cottage they'd given him, closing the door behind him. He sat on the straw-filled bed and pulled the skull out.
"What do you have to tell me?" he asked it.
There was no response.
The smooth bone had been polished to a shine. What could a bunch of bones tell them? Were they sent to mock the dragons? To test their skill in battle? Did their enemy really think these pathetic skeletons with their flimsy swords could do damage to the dragons?
Bastian tossed it onto his bed, irritated. He wanted answers. He didn't want to fight an enemy with no knowledge of it beforehand. He'd wasted his morning, but at least the other Greens were flying away from the Dragonlands, searching for the fabled land over the sea that would offer them safety.
There were still too many in the Dragonlands who didn't know escape was possible. Who would help them? Yes, Bastian had done his job in saving the children of Hutton's Bridge. He'd kept true to his people and seen them to safety. But there was still one of his people who remained in the Dragonlands, and Bastian wasn't sure he could ever leave without her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Connor landed in the Charred Barrens on the far side of a dead forest. He had only been there once before, when he’d taken Tressa back to them after destroying the Red Castle. While that trip had been made on adrenaline, this journey had been uneventful. He'd skirted the Sands’ eastern borders, then flown back to the west, finally coming to the land that was so aptly described by its name.
Though the great fire of the Charred Barrens was little more than legend, it appeared freshly scorched. A faint scent of soot hung in the gentle breeze, giving it the air of a land recently deceased and filled with the ghosts. Tressa had assured Connor the Charred Barrens were perfectly harmless, that the illusion was maintained to deter others from entering their land.
Even Sophia had promised him that if he ever needed anything, all he needed to do was fly over the forest. He would be found and escorted to their city. Connor held back a snort. City? This place was dead. There was no city.
Out of nowhere, a Black dragon burst from the dead forest, circled around Connor twice, and flew down again. Connor followed it, weaving a path through the trees. Cleverly hidden by the upper branches, the Black had forged a tunnel through the dead forest, leading to a hole in the ground. Above, the trees bent toward each other, forming a tight canopy of dead trees, so twisted and gnarled no one could see through.
Connor raced down a dark cave tunnel after the Black dragon until they emerged in a cavern filled with tall buildings and bustling people. The two dragons landed on the ground and quickly changed into their human forms.
"Welcome, Connor," the other man said, holding out a hand.
Connor shook it. "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."
"I'm Joel. I am a scout in the Black army, sent to watch for any who might fly over our land. I saw you approaching and asked for permission to escort you here."
"So they already know I'm coming? That's wonderful news," Connor said.
"Welcome," a familiar voice said behind him.
Connor turned with a smile on his face. "Sophia." He kissed the woman on her cheek. "I came here seeking your assistance. Perhaps since you are underground, you aren't aware what is happening above."
Sophia's smile was hesitant. "We should speak in private. Come with me." She rested a hand on Connor's elbow, guiding him through the crowded city.
They walked in silence, entering a great castle studded with sparkling gems. Connor followed her down gilded halls until they came to a room guarded by three sentries. They nodded at Sophia, then opened the doors.
Connor spied a man sitting in a chair, his nose in a book. The door closed abruptly behind them with a resounding boom.
Connor looked at Sophia and back to the man, who did not look up. He cleared his throat, then opened with his appeal. "Days ago, the
moon turned red, and the sky rained with blood. The Green in the Meadowlands fear the Dragonlands are about to be beset by a terrible army. They have been turning all of their people into dragons for years, as you know. It was to prepare for this war. They are sending their people over the sea to the west, attempting to find a new land to live in." Connor paused, waiting for a reaction. Sophia only stared at him. The man with the book ignored them both.
Connor took a deep breath and continued. "My wife and children should already be gone by now. Some of the Green stayed behind to protect the Meadowlands until they receive word that their loved ones have reached a new land. Then they are to follow, leaving the Dragonlands forever. Sophia, we need your help in fighting this enemy. We have to make our homeland safe again. I want to bring my wife and children back and raise them here. Please, will you consider speaking to Mestifito about this?"
"I don't need to," Sophia said. "We already know all of this."
Connor's jaw dropped. They knew? Then why were they hiding underground? He had to force himself not to ask. Instead, he would wait for her to explain herself. Connor looked to the man in the corner again. He hadn't shown a bit of interest in what Connor had to say. How could anyone sit by and hear his news without a reaction?
"We cannot defeat him." The man put his book down on the side table. "It is good that the Green are leaving. Perhaps we should suggest the same to those living in the Yellow? They have fine ships. It's possible they've been to these other lands and can smooth the way for our refugees?"
Sophia nodded, her eyes sad. "I will speak with Destrian, then. I'm sure he'd like to get home to the Sands and his people. We've held him here for far too long, as well as Jarrett’s brother, Avital. It’s time we set them free."
"Wait." Connor put a hand on Sophia's arm. He'd never known Tressa's great-grandmother to run from a fight. “Is there something I don’t know?"
