Frozen: Heart of Dread, Book One

by de la Cruz, Melissa

  “He told me what happened there,” Nat said.

  “Did he?” Shakes nodded. “Bet he didn’t tell you he tried to save them, did he—tried to get the Texans to sign the treaty, that’s why he got captured and tortured, but it was too late. They gave him a medal for the ‘victory,’ but he left the service anyway.”

  Liannan returned and sat next to Shakes and put his hand in hers. “You should rest,” she said.

  Nat left them alone and went to the captain’s quarters to check on Wes, covered in the shroud. Roark was sitting with him, keeping the body company. Tomorrow they would give Wes to the sea. She sat with them for a while, until Brendon urged her to lie down—he would sit with the body. She went back to the crew cabin and when she finally slept her dreams were full of fire.

  • • •

  The next morning, she woke to the smallmen talking excitedly. They were standing by her bunk.

  “Get up!” Roark said happily.

  “Come see!” Brendon said, tugging on her sleeve.

  Nat followed them to Wes’s cabin, where Liannan and Shakes were hovering by the doorway. The two of them were smiling so intently, it was as if they were almost shining with happiness. Nat felt the first stirrings of hope in her heart.

  “Go. He wants you,” Liannan said.

  As in a dream, Nat walked into the room.

  She found Wes sitting up in his bed. His face was no longer gray, but pink with life. His chest was bare, and the wound right over his heart was merely a scab.

  “Hey, you.” He smiled, putting his shirt back on and buttoning it up. “I thought I was a goner when I saw you pull that trigger. I’m lucky you’ve got such terrible aim, huh?”

  Nat fought a smile. She remembered that when she had raised her gun, she had hoped for this outcome, had wished for it with everything she had.

  “Seriously though, I felt that bullet rip me apart. But I’m here.”

  “You are,” she said with a laugh, feeling giddy with happiness. They were wrong about me, she thought. They told me I didn’t have a heart. They told me I would never love anyone . . . and look . . . look at him . . . look how beautiful he is . . . how alive . . .

  “You knew this would happen?” Wes said. “But how?”

  “It doesn’t matter how,” she said. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.” A powerful protection spell. I must like him so very, very much, she thought.

  “Nat,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I wanted to say something to you before . . . I don’t know if you want to hear it . . . and I don’t know what’s going to happen when we reach the Blue . . . but . . . maybe we can . . . after you find what you’re looking for . . . if everything’s okay . . . maybe we can . . .”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes.” Whatever happened, the answer was yes. Yes!

  His eyes lit up with joy. “Yes?”

  “Yes.” She leaned down, but he was the one who pulled her to his lap, his strong arms surrounding her, and then they were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and his mouth was on hers, and they were together, where they belonged, and she buried herself deep into his arms, and he kissed her everywhere, her nose, her cheeks, her neck, her mark, and she was laughing with happiness.

  “All right then,” Wes said, squeezing her tightly, his old grin returning, happy to be back on his ship with his crew. “What did I miss?”

  Nat was about to reply when Roark burst into the room. “We’re here . . . at the doorway to Arem. But Donnie says we’ve come too late.”

  Ahead of them, on the distant skyline, they saw the battleships approaching the small island.

  48

  THE NAVY FLEET HAD SURROUNDED A tiny green island, almost invisible as it was hidden so well by the gray frozen ones around it. It was in the middle of the archipelago, a small green gem.

  “Supercarriers,” Wes said with a frown.

  “Missile destroyers, frigates, missile cruisers. It’s a full drone army.” Shakes whistled, peering through the binoculars. “They’re serious about this.”

  Liannan paled. “They must not be allowed to enter the doorway. My people cannot defend themselves against this firepower. If they are allowed to enter, it will mean death to Vallonis. If only we still had our drakonrydders . . .”

  Nat was startled out of her paralysis. She had been overwhelmed by the size of the fleet, helpless against the magnificent array and might of the country’s massive military machine, commanded by soldiers somewhere in bunkers, hidden far away where they could not be stopped. She had done this. She had given away the stone, and now it was too late—there was nothing they could do now, nothing they could do to stop it—but something Liannan said struck a chord in her.

  Drakonrydders.

  “The drakon,” she whispered. “The monster in the sea. The wailer. You called it a protector of Vallonis.”

  “Yes, but it is missing its rider and it is uncontrollable without one, a wild animal; otherwise it is our greatest defense.”

  Nat felt as if she were waking up from a deep and dream-filled sleep, as the memories she had long suppressed returned to her all at once.

  The voice she heard inside her . . . that had ceased to speak because it was speaking in other ways . . .

  The song of the little white bird . . .

  The creatures that came to feed them . . .

  They all said the same thing . . .

  You have returned to us.

  Bless you . . . bless the drakon . . . bless its rider.

  The voice had stopped speaking to her after the death of the white bird. The wailer had been grieving. The wailer was the drakon.

  She was not alone. Never alone.

  I have been searching for you, but now it is you who must come to me. Journey to the Blue. The Haven needs you.

  It is time we are one.

  Don’t resist your power. You have to accept who you are, Wes had told her.

  She was part of the drakon. She was its familiar, its shadow. When the ice came, the universe was split in two, so that when the drakon was born sixteen years ago, it was split as well, its soul born on the other side of the doorway. The drakon had been looking for her ever since.

  She had no heart.

  Because she was the drakon’s heart, the drakon’s soul. She and the monster were one and the same. Torn from the other, lost, alone, and only complete, together.

  She walked out to the deck, watched as the navy made its way toward the green island that held the doorway to the other world. This was why she had journeyed to the Blue, because the Blue needed her as much as she needed it.

  “Nat—what are you doing?” Wes asked, running out to the deck where she stood by the railing, her arms outstretched. “You’re going to get killed!”

  She stepped away from him, as she felt her power surge within her, wild and free, unchained; she let it wash over her, let it cover every part of her body and her soul, felt its fury and its delight at being unleashed. She did not cower from it, she did not hide from it, she let it run over her, take over her spirit, she accepted the force of its magnitude.

  It scared and exhilarated her.

  The awesome power within her, that had kept her alive, that kept her safe.

  She was a drakonrydder. A protector of Vallonis. They had kept the land safe for centuries upon centuries. She was the catalyst for destruction. She had been preparing for this all of her life.

  She knew now why she had given the stone to Avo, and in turn to his commanders.

  She was drawing the RSA to the doorway, drawing its entire fleet there, its entire might to one location, so that she could destroy it. Her dreams had prepared her for exactly this moment. Everything in her life had led up to this, so that she could answer the call, could perform her duty when the time came.

  Fire and pain.

  Rage and rui
n.

  Wrath and revenge.

  Valleys full of ash and cinder.

  Destruction.

  Death.

  She had brought the war here, had brought the war to the edges of the earth, to rain vengeance on her enemies, to protect her home. This was what she was made for, this was her purpose, her calling.

  She turned to Wes and blinked back angry, happy tears. “I know what I have to do now. You were right, Wes, I can fix this thing.”

  Then Nat raised her arms to the sky and called for her drakon.

  49

  DRAKON MAINAS, ANSWER MY CALL. HEED MY WORD.

  ARISE FROM THE DEEP AND VANQUISH OUR ENEMIES!

  Nat was the drakon, she was its heart and soul, she was its master and its rider.

  The sea parted, and a blackened creature rose to the surface. Its skin was the dull color of coal, rippling and studded with spikes. Its eyes were the same shade of green and gold as Nat’s, the pale green of summer grass, the gold of a bright new morning, and it carried the mark of the flame on its breast, the same one that was on her skin. Its massive wings fluttered and folded, a curtain, an umbrella. It was huge, almost as large as a ship, a wonder to behold, terrifying and beautiful.

  “DRAKON MAINAS!”

  “ANASTASIA DEKESTHALIAS,” he rumbled.

  Her real name. Her immortal name that had come to her in a dream. Natasha Kestal was Anastasia Dekesthalias. Resurrection of the Flame. Heart of Dread. Heart of the Drakon.

  The creature fixed upon Nat and Nat felt something inside her transform, as if she were opening her eyes for the first time. The world around her grew brighter, and the smallest sound resonated in her ears. Even her mind seemed to expand. She stared into the creature’s eyes and in a flash, the two of them were linked.

  Nat’s chest burned; she could hardly think as a new and intense pain washed over her body.

  What was it?

  Fire. She was breathing fire.

  She was made of fire, of ashes and smoke and blood and crystal.

  She was burning, burning.

  Nat could see everything the drakon saw, felt everything it felt, sensed its anger and its rage.

  The drakon rose into the air and the sky exploded with gunfire and missiles as the ships targeted this new enemy, but the drakon was faster and flew higher.

  Destroy them! Vanquish our foes! Rain death upon our enemies!

  The drakon roared. It zeroed in on the smaller ships first, pounding their hulls, tilting them against the waves and rolling the men into the water. Its powerful wings sent tsunami-like splashes of toxic water onto the ships’ decks. The drakon used the black ocean as a weapon. The frigates swayed and bobbed, and soon toppled over. The black ocean became thick with smoke.

  Nat watched as the drakon dove beneath the dark water, disappearing into the depths only to emerge a moment later beneath one of the ships—lifting it up above the waves and breaking it in half as if it were a child’s toy. With a mighty screech, it grasped another ship and tossed it high into the air. When it fell, it slammed it into another boat, sinking them both.

  The surviving soldiers beat a retreat into their lifeboats, and other ships begin to follow.

  We’ve won, Nat thought, as the armada scattered and ships began to turn away from the green island. But a fresh volley of gunfire exploded from the two massive supercarriers. Their guns fired in elaborate patterns, guided by computers that tracked, plotted, and anticipated the creature’s course as it dove and wound through the sky.

  Hide, hide, Nat sent urgently, and the drakon rose upward, its ashen underbelly blending with the dark clouds. But the gunfire continued its relentless rhythm. Red and orange flares sparked through the smoke.

  The drakon was nowhere to be seen.

  Nat panicked until the creature reemerged. The clouds disappeared into steam as flames shot down from the sky, dissolving the fog like mist meeting the morning sun. The drakon’s fire lit the dark ocean with a light that the black water had not seen in a hundred years.

  Its flame as bright-white as day, its wings tucked behind its back, the drakon descended like a bomb towards the middle of the nearest destroyer. Its fire engulfed the ship, and the air reeked of burnt plastic and molten steel. The ship collapsed into the waves, its hull crumpling like twigs before flame.

  Another supercarrier released an array of missiles directly at the drakon. The creature rolled away, but the ship’s guns met their mark. A rocket shell tore the drakon’s wing and the clouds glowed a fiery red once more.

  Down below, Nat collapsed on the deck.

  50

  “HIT! I’M HIT!” SHE WHISPERED, holding her arm.

  “Nat!”

  Wes was by her side. “Nat!”

  “The guns! You have to stop their guns!” she told him.

  “Right—what was I thinking—just waiting for you guys to save our skins—Shakes! Farouk! Roark! Brendon! The guns!”

  They’d never match the naval firepower, but Wes guessed they wouldn’t have to. Not with that thing—Nat’s drakon—on their side. A few of the remaining ships had open gunners on their decks. The soldiers sat behind heavy artillery shields, but he could still see glimpses of them as they trained and rotated their guns to follow the creature.

  Wes grabbed his sniper’s rifle and climbed to the highest point of his ship. He motioned to Shakes. “Hold my leg and try to steady me; I need to get a clear shot at these guys.”

  “But, boss, you’d be totally exposed.”

  Wes knew he was right, the gunners were distracted by the drakon, but as soon as he fired, they’d turn their attention to him and he’d be a sitting duck. But he needed the height to get a clear shot and he’d just have to take his chances afterward.

  Wes turned to his targets. He aimed low on the first shot and put a bullet through the hand of the first gunner. The second gunner spun toward Wes. He was manning a gun big enough to obliterate anything within a yard of him. The soldier smiled at Wes, wanting to let him know he was going to enjoy cutting him into shreds.

  But Wes didn’t respond; instead he fired, and the bullet pierced the man’s armor before he could reach for the trigger. There’s always just a fraction of a second between life and death, Wes thought. Take every second you can.

  With the sky cleared of gunfire, the drakon reappeared beside Alby. Its wing had healed, and it was beating glorious waves of air as it hovered above the water, its torso casting a jagged shadow before it descended to the deck.

  The ship tilted as it received the creature’s weight. The drone of battle faded, and for a moment the crew stood, captivated by the drakon.

  Its breath was like a whirlwind, raspy and strong like a hundred men sucking in air at once. Deck plates buckled and screws unwound from their fastenings—the creature was as heavy as stone. It drew in its mighty wings and lowered its head with a thud that shook the deck.

  • • •

  Nat knew what came next; she just needed the nerve to go through with it. The moment was surreal and stretched for what felt like minutes. She looked at the crew, who smiled at her hopefully. Liannan nodded, and Wes was the one who offered his knee for her to step on, to climb.

  He took her hand and hoisted her up. “Give them hell,” he whispered in her ear, his eyes shining with admiration.

  The drakon turned its neck, and Nat climbed onto his back, digging her heels against its side. When she reached his neck, the creature’s thick shoulder muscles adjusted to her weight, giving her a seat upon its mighty spine. She gripped its hard scales, and the drakon pushed off with a force that nearly tore her from its back.

  Smoke filled her eyes as they soared upward. The cold wind rushed at her cheeks and in a moment they were above the battle. In one glance she could see the whole scene, laid out like a photo on a page. She saw the remaining ships rocking in the great blac
k waters, the long sea of ice, and the brilliant fringes of the small green island.

  From this height, the earth looked different—flatter, and even the noise from the battle was muted. They were so high in the sky they were invisible to the ship’s guns. The gray smoke covered them, and Nat held on tightly. She felt the drakon’s muscles contracting with each flap of its mighty wings.

  The creature inhaled a mighty breath—its long muscular torso flexing beneath her—and her lungs, too, filled with fire once more.

  “To battle!” Nat screamed, and the drakon surged upward so quickly that her hands ripped away and she fell from its back and she was flying.

  She was airborne, just like that night at MacArthur when she had jumped out of the window. This was the same, and as she glided through the air, she felt no fear.

  She could do this. She could fly.

  She called to her drakon again and willed it to come to her. She caught it by the neck but they were moving too fast and her fingers gripped his scales for the briefest moment before her momentum pulled her away. She fell downward, but once again she was not afraid.

  Drakon Mainas, to me, she urged, as the sea rose up to meet her.

  Just as she was about to fall into the water, the drakon appeared beneath her and she slammed into its back. She righted herself and dug her feet into its hide.

  They circled for a moment, then plunged toward the remaining ships.

  Breathe deeply. We will need all our strength. Now exhale, Drakon Mainas directed.

  Nat felt the same dark fire suffocate her throat, but she did not fight it, she breathed it in. Drakonfire. As she exhaled, a wild blue flame burst from the drakon’s mouth, covering the largest supercarrier in a swirling iridescent blue blaze.

  They turned to the stealth cruiser next. Its surface was perfectly smooth and sleek, and the drakon bathed the entire ship in a flame so hot that the oxygen around the ship ignited in a wild orange fireball. The ship’s armored exterior contracted like shrink wrap—the hatches fell inward, the guns warped, and the windows slid from their frames.