In the Shadow of Dragons (Aftermagic Book 1)

by Sonya Bateman

  To the end of all this.

  “How? He never mentioned anything about that.”

  “He would have. Maybe he hadn’t put it together yet, kind of a forest for the trees thing, or maybe he’d decided it was impossible. But it’s not. The Darkspawn have the right idea.” She drew a shaking breath. “The Eclipses are getting longer because more people are using HeMo,” she said. “The length of them is tied to the rate of HeMo saturation. That’s what Scott was researching, why he was able to figure it out. He was a viral pathologist. This was his area of expertise.” She looked at Sawyer, saw the shock in his eyes. The understanding. “So if there’s no more HeMo…”

  “There’s no more Eclipse,” he said hoarsely. “Naomi. You can prove this?”

  She nodded. “With Scott’s notes,” she said. “They’re … somewhere in the barn.”

  “Great,” Sawyer growled. “Those idiots tore that place apart for no damned reason, and they’ll have eyes on it now.” He throttled back and wiped a hand down his face. “All right,” he said. “I’ll have to find a way to search it. Meanwhile, you try to remember whatever you can, everything he told you. But don’t write it down.”

  The reminder of just how risky this was chilled her all over again. At least this time, she wasn’t afraid of Sawyer.

  She only wished she knew who they were.

  CHAPTER 54

  Route 220; outside Red Butte, Wyoming

  August 14, 6:25 p.m.

  “Almost there,” Blake said, just before the jeep they were riding in jounced across a teeth-knocking stretch of rough rock. At least Teague saw it coming this time. Noah hadn’t made her wear a blindfold.

  She couldn’t believe this would be over soon, at least for her. No more sleeping in caves and training with rocks, no more Noah yelling at her for making stupid decisions. No more mule deer jerky or cactus salad or chemical-sweet outhouse cave. No more magic training with Diesel, or sharing his room.

  How she’d miss all of those things, even the yelling. And she wouldn’t even get to say goodbye.

  Tonight she’d sleep in her own bed, or maybe Julian’s. She hadn’t expected any resistance to that idea, but it was there, lurking around despite his declaration of love. The thought that he’d lied about leaving Carola to ensure her cooperation had taken hold. Maybe he did love her — but did she really think Julian would risk an avalanche of negative press for her? Or anything, for that matter.

  She sighed, and without much thought fished the medallion Goddard had tricked her into buying from her pocket. If it did work, it wasn’t any use to her. Maybe she should give it to someone before she left, like Noah. Or Diesel. She’d miss him more than anyone.

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  Teague turned a smirk to Blake. “A useless piece of junk,” she said. “Bought it from Goddard. It’s supposed to show me who’s trouble and who I can trust.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of those. Green for good, red for bad, right?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t work.”

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, Goddard said I have to prime it.” She held the coin up, looked at the blank eye on one side, the gaping skull on the other. “Whatever that means.”

  “That’s easy,” Blake said with a grin. “You just push a little magic into it, and it’s yours. It’ll work for you and no one else.”

  “Really, that’s it?” Teague rolled her eyes. “Goddard could’ve just told me that,” she muttered as she folded her hand around the coin.

  “Maybe, but he would’ve charged you extra.”

  She laughed. “True. Well, here goes.”

  It was easier calling on the magic, now that she didn’t fear it so much. She let it flow through her and released a small amount into her closed hand. Her fist pulsed once with a deep purple shadow.

  She opened her hand. The medallion sat there, blank eye side up, unchanged.

  “Wow. Amazing. Look at it go,” she said flatly. “It’s … wait.” Maybe she needed a reason to know whether she could trust someone.

  The jeep was slowing down now, the deserted highway coming into view ahead, the four-wheelers at the head of the caravan curving at the shoulder to double back so the vehicles would all point back, toward escape. She wanted to find out if the medallion worked before all this started. “Hey, Blake. Do me a favor,” she said. “Threaten me.”

  “Er. Why?”

  “A hunch. Just humor me, will you?”

  “Okay, sure.” He smiled, and then twisted his features into a fierce scowl. “I’m gonna rip your … uh, spleen out, and … do something really bad with it. Really bad.”

  The medallion glowed bright green.

  “See?” Blake said. “You can totally trust me.”

  “I figured that.” She smirked and tucked the disc back in her pocket. “Really bad, huh?”

  “Unbelievably bad. Unspeakably bad.”

  The jeep stopped, and Darby turned from the front seat to look at them. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” she said.

  Blake grinned. “Ripping out spleens.”

  “Really bad things,” Teague said.

  “So, no. I don’t want to know.” Darby snorted and opened her door. “Let’s get going.”

  For the next several minutes, everything hummed along like a well-oiled machine. It was obvious they’d done this as a team many times before. Teague managed to get into the flow, or at least not get in anyone’s way — putting on a set of the rags and face wraps Peyton was handing out, checking her crossbow, helping Darby unload a cache of rolled nail strips.

  The plan, Diesel had explained to her last night, was fairly simple. Set up a barricade the truck drivers wouldn’t see until it was too late, with nail strips to burst tires and ground the trucks. Incapacitate any transport staff and patrols with the supply convoy, move them out of the way. Then open the trailers and burn the HeMo — a task that fell to Silas and Oscar, since Silas’s element was fire and Oscar had … things that exploded.

  She’d finally gotten Diesel to tell her a little about why Noah insisted on leaving the patrols alive. He said it was because they were just people doing their jobs, and they had families who loved them, too. She knew there was more to it, but he wouldn’t explain.

  No stories, unless it’s your own.

  Teague followed Noah, Diesel, Blake and Darby up the slight rise that hid the vehicles from view, to the shoulder of the highway. To the north, where the trucks would come from, the road bent around toward them from an incline — a blind curve. There was a loose, sprawling stand of scraggly trees on the other side of the highway, and what looked like nothing for miles to the south.

  Noah motioned for them to put the barricade materials down and turned from the road to face them. “All right. We’ve got probably half an hour until that shipment comes through,” he said. “Everyone know what they’re doing?”

  “Well, I know what you’re doing,” a familiar voice said. “You’re here to negotiate. Isn’t that right?”

  Teague’s heart plunged as she looked past Noah to see Julian step from the stand of trees. Wearing his armor, holding his damned staff like a scepter. He stopped in the middle of the road, stiff and watchful. “Which one of you … people is in charge?” he said.

  Noah didn’t turn or move, but his eyes blazed with fury. He obviously knew it was Julian. “The bastard baited us,” he said in a low, tight tone. “When I tell you, start running.”

  “Wait. He’s serious about negotiating.” Teague recoiled from the blistering look Noah sent her. “That’s what your vision meant,” she said, swallowing hard. “It must have.”

  His fury turned to horrified shock. “How do you know that?” he rasped.

  “Well?” Julian called from the road. “I’m waiting.”

  Teague shivered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But … this is for the best. It’s all going to work out.”

  Wit
h that, she tore the rags from her face and started for Julian.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Diesel said in a breaking voice.

  She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even look at him. Every step cost her as she walked away, toward the life she had to live — even if she wasn’t sure she wanted it anymore. She unslung the crossbow, held it defensively as she stopped in front of Julian. “You came here alone?” she said. “Where are the trucks?”

  “Come on, Teague. You know there aren’t any.”

  She hated him for saying that. Calling her by name, leaving absolutely no doubt she’d been in on this. Maybe it was necessary, but it still stung. She could feel the others behind her as they came to the shock of understanding exactly how she’d betrayed them.

  If she looked at them, she’d lose her resolve.

  “I thought you said they’d negotiate.” There was a cold, mocking undercurrent to Julian’s words. “This looks like an attack.”

  “They didn’t know about the negotiation. You knew that,” she said. “So maybe you should say something that isn’t goading them.”

  “Oh, I’ve got something to say. Three little words.” Julian arched an eyebrow, glanced down. “Interesting. You weren’t going to try using magic on me, were you, Teague?”

  “What…” She followed his glance to her pocket.

  Which was glowing a bright, warning red from the medallion inside.

  “No.” She shook her head, backed up a step. “No, you’re…”

  “Did you honestly think I’d let them live, after they marked me? The face of hope for the world?” Julian’s voice was utterly calm, despite the insanity of his words. “I think it’s time we show them whose side you’re really on.”

  It happened so fast, she didn’t understand what was going on until it was over. One minute she was facing Julian, stricken with horror as he raised his staff. The next she was facing the highway shoulder, her crossbow extended — looking at Blake on the ground, with her arrow through his heart.

  Julian had blasted her. Controlled her with magic, and made her kill Blake.

  Beyond horrified, she threw the bow aside. As if getting rid of the weapon she hadn’t knowingly fired would take it all back. With Darby’s anguished cry ringing in her ears, she whirled on Julian and extended a trembling arm. She could barely breathe through the black grief wringing her insides raw. Blake … he was nothing to Julian. No threat at all. Just a kid with a slingshot. “You,” she whispered. “How could you.”

  His smile was terrible. “Are you going to blast me, Teague?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. I suppose I’ll need those three little words now.” He stopped smiling, took a step back. “Kill them all.”

  As he spoke, the stand of trees across the road dissolved, revealing more of the Knights — including Whitney Quarles, their illusionist. And dozens of black-clad patrols.

  With an incoherent roar, Teague sent a massive blast of shadow blades straight for Julian’s heart.

  CHAPTER 55

  Route 220

  August 14, 7:04 p.m.

  The only voice in Noah’s head was an unending scream.

  He’d just watched Julian Bishop murder another person he cared for. Teague had been the weapon, but Julian pulled the trigger. He understood that, on an intellectual level.

  Though there was nothing intellectual about the hatred he felt for the girl who’d betrayed them.

  The others were coming to them, joining the hopelessly one-sided fight they weren’t prepared to have. He hadn’t even been able to warn them to retreat. Was too stunned by Teague’s abrupt reversal and Blake’s sudden, unceremonious death.

  He was aware of Peyton on the ground, weeping over Blake and blasting his body with pointless healing magic. Of gunshots from Darby, a white eruption from Diesel, the unhurried stroll of the approaching army that had been waiting for them. Of Teague throwing everything she had at Julian, only to have the blast go through him with absolutely no effect — of him grabbing her wrist and drawing his sword.

  All of these things happened at once, within seconds that stretched into forever.

  “Peyton, stop!” Noah’s own shout startled the world into a confusion of chaos. “Get back to the vehicles. You, Darby, and grab Oscar on the way. Now! Sledge, come and take him,” he called to the approaching man.

  Sledge flinched and hesitated for just a moment when he saw Blake, but he did what he was told.

  “Isaac, Diesel. Stay.” Noah looked at Indigo, pointed to the sky. “Take Silas. Keep them back.”

  Nodding, she grabbed her brother and flew straight up. Seconds later, fireballs rained on the road, into the mob of Knights and patrols.

  Diesel half-shoved Noah aside, grunting as a blast of someone’s magic hit him. Fire. So they had Grogan. Noah had also seen Whitney and Sawyer among them, at least. Four Knights and dozens of patrols. Impossible odds. “Isaac, get ready for cover,” Noah said.

  The tall man acknowledged him with a grunt, and Noah whirled and sent a blast of magic into the BiCo crowd. Diesel fired a blast at the same time. Between them and the fire raining from Silas above, most of the enemy group were still on the road or the far shoulder, trying to avoid the blasts.

  Teague had broken away from Julian, started running toward their side. As Noah watched, a figure cleared the chaos and tackled her to the ground. Sawyer. She kicked free of him, scrambled away, and he grabbed her ankle.

  There was a brief glow from Sawyer’s hand. Teague twisted and sprang up, rammed a double fist down on his forearm, and he let go. She bounced up and sprinted for the shoulder, to their side.

  “Go get her,” Noah said to Diesel. “She has a lot to answer for. Bring her to the vehicles, and get everyone moving the hell out of here.”

  “You’ve got this?”

  “Yes.”

  Diesel ran. Noah shifted his focus to the twins, whistled and gestured. After one final fiery blast from Silas, Indigo wheeled and flew for the vehicles.

  “Isaac, now! Lay it down and run.”

  The blast of sand was immediate, whipping into thick, frenzied clouds all around him. Noah coughed hard, squinted against the rapidly swirling vortex. Stumbled a few steps and froze.

  He was completely disoriented. No idea which way was safety, which way was death.

  There were sounds everywhere — engines roaring, people shouting, magic blasting. He couldn’t follow any of them. After a second’s hesitation, he tensed to run. Anywhere.

  Something blasted him in the back and knocked him flat. He lay there, sizzling.

  “No.” The voice reached him through a haze of agony. “Keep him alive. I have … questions for him.

  Julian.

  A hard knob thrust against Noah’s shoulder. Buzzing pain flooded every nerve and shepherded him into blackness.

  CHAPTER 56

  The Badlands

  August 14, 7:38 p.m.

  Teague clung to Diesel on the back of the four-wheeler despite knowing she was in no way safe with him right now, or ever again. He’d neither stop nor care if she fell off. And she almost wanted to let go and save them all the trouble of killing her. If she didn’t instantly break her neck, she’d die horribly out here on her own.

  The only thing keeping her from it was what she’d seen while Diesel was hauling her off. Julian, Grogan, and a patrol officer with a cattle prod, standing around a prone figure on the ground.

  Julian had Noah. And she was going to help them get him back, or die trying.

  Through the endless, jolting ride, her mind kept returning to the moment everything went wrong. The red glow in her pocket, something she never would’ve seen if it wasn’t for Blake. Who was dead now.

  The grief strangled her again, blocking him from her thoughts.

  When the bike finally slowed, she shivered and glanced around. The caravan had just come through a tunnel into a ravine, but not the one where the camp was. This one was narrower, deeper, with a long u
pward slope leading out at the end.

  The lead jeep stopped before the slope, and the others slowed and came to rest in a line behind it.

  Teague didn’t dare move. She had no idea why they’d stopped here, but something was happening at the front of the line. Sledge, getting out of the driver’s seat, walking down the ravine toward the tunnel with a stone glance at what was in the back seat. What her mind refused to consider.

  Diesel’s four-wheeler was last in line. The jeep ahead of them held Isaac, Silas and Indigo, then two more bikes — Darby and Peyton. Oscar was in the passenger seat of Sledge’s jeep. There was one four-wheeler still back there for Noah, but he’d never gotten on it.

  And she was the only one who saw what happened to him.

  Teague watched as Sledge walked the line to stop just ahead of Diesel. The man’s eyes were red, his features drawn and hollow. “Noah?” he said.

  Diesel shook his head. “Don’t know.”

  But she did. “I saw him—”

  “Fuck you!” Sledge roared at her. “Speak again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

  Damn it, she had to tell them. But it could wait a minute.

  “I’ll have to close it, then,” Sledge said in heavy tones. “He knows the way around.”

  Diesel nodded.

  Sledge walked past them. A moment later, there was a sharp, booming crack, followed by a rumbling clatter that shook the ground. Teague turned her head slowly to look. Sledge had collapsed the end of the tunnel they’d just come out of, buried it in a rockslide.

  When she turned back, it was to find Darby and Peyton standing around the bike, with Sledge coming to join them. “Get up,” Darby said to her through clenched teeth. “Get up, you lying bitch.”

  She slid carefully from the bike on the side opposite them and backed away. When she did, Diesel stood on her side with wordless warning. As if she had anywhere to run. She had to tell them, before she was summarily shot to death — something Darby looked more than willing to do. “Julian took Noah,” she blurted. “I saw him.”