Heir of the Dragon

by Anna Logan

  The celithmen were close enough to be recognized—the dragon-helmeted warriors from the day before, with a few normal Kaydorians intermingled. The force slowed upon seeing them dismount to wait. They approached at a walk, and at twenty paces away, stopped and dismounted as well. Either they had the sense of honor to make it a more even fight, or they thought it would be better sport.

  One of the dragon warriors stepped forward, carrying two cutlasses instead of a sword. Perhaps their leader. “You two have been through enough, and I’ve lost enough men. Why not call it a day and do this the peaceful way?”

  If only. If they surrendered, the men would simply continue on to get Skyve and Terindi. “Can’t do that,” she said back.

  The man sighed, loud enough she could hear it despite the gap between them. “You San Quawr never make it easy. So be it.” He twirled one of his cutlasses. The warriors behind him took it as a signal, and charged.

  Talea lifted her sword with arms that already trembled, knowing it would be futile to try and wield it one-handed and make an electrical blade also. There was no tremble in Rikky’s arms. He held his iron sword in one hand, an electrical one in the other.

  The front warriors reached them, and the battle was on.

  Rikky was the real contestant. He could keep four opponents occupied at a time, she could barely manage two. It took only seconds of fighting to realize that the dragon warriors were not typical Kaydorian soldiers—they were an elite group, and a lethal foe. Perhaps they wanted to take Talea and Rikky alive, because she didn’t think she would be able to hold her position if they weren’t restraining themselves to some degree. Or if Rikky weren’t there to lend assistance when she needed it.

  Still, it would only last so long. Her back burned with the movement. Muscles that had already been limp and weak began shaking uncontrollably from the exertion. Her body became sluggish shortly before her mind did. Yet she was still alive...still desperately swinging and dodging and blinking sweat from her eyes.

  She struck an opponent hard enough that he staggered back, and found herself face to face with the dragon warrior with the two cutlasses.

  The moment he engaged, all his companions backing off to let him fight her alone, Talea knew she was finished. Rikky was fighting half a dozen of his own, and was far enough away now that he couldn’t help her anyway. Her lethargy couldn’t match this warrior’s speed, her daze couldn’t keep up with his skill. The fear in the pit of her stomach, that strangled her mind and clogged her throat, came back in a few seconds of panic...just before he breached her feeble defenses and sent her spinning with a hard blow to the chest. As she fell, his cutlass drew a fiery slit down her exposed back. She screamed as the blade pierced her blistered skin.

  Her body gave out completely. She was crumpled on the ground, barely able to breathe, barely able to twitch a finger. Dimly she heard Rikky’s increased struggle, as he called her name and tried to reach her. And she heard his breathless groan as they overcame him. She heard the final scuffle, his final, enraged yell, before something hit him over the head and he was on the ground beside her. Motionless.

  A gloved hand grabbed her hair and yanked her up onto her knees. She cried out, and another man responded by slapping her across the face. Gritting her teeth, she looked to the man before her silently. He was a Kaydorian commander, not one of the dragon warriors. There was hatred in his eyes. “You, little girl, have cost us thousands of men.”

  “Dejer.” It was the voice of the man with the cutlasses. “Stop posturing to a defenseless girl and let’s go.”

  The name, Dejer, sounded familiar. He turned his look of hatred to the voice behind her. “Or what, you’ll tattle-tale on me to your uncle, for being inhospitable?”

  There was no reply.

  Dejer glared at Talea again. “I do have to bring you to Kaydor alive.” He squatted, bringing them eye level. “But first I want you to know how I feel about you slaughtering so many of my men.”

  The soldier behind, holding her by her hair, put his boot on her back, wedging the heel into the gash made by the cutlass. Pain overwhelmed everything, tearing a scream from her lungs.

  ~♦~

  It had been an hour since they’d passed the last battlefield. Yhkon didn’t know if that should be comforting or concerning. Four dragons, two dead, two injured; and several hundred men, a quarter dead or wounded. It had appeared to be a recent battle, meaning he and the other Wardens were catching up to the four wards...and it meant that they had at least been alive and free a couple hours ago, when they defeated this force. Though how they had done so, if Talea had used enough electricity to knock her out once already yesterday, he didn’t know. Four dragons was no easy feat. As they had galloped by a similar battlefield earlier and now this one, he’d half expected to see Talea’s body among those broken on the ground. They’d seen Rikky’s celith, dead, beside one of the dragons.

  Eclipse was lathered with sweat. They had been riding as hard as they dared for twelve hours. It didn’t bode well for what sort of shape the wards’ celiths would be in. Yhkon laid a hand on the stallion’s damp neck, letting his gaze fall down to watch his hooves flying over the ground.

  It was how he noticed the new tracks.

  Not the prints of three celiths—it was the trampled grass and indistinct scuffs of a much larger force. Probably celiths. And that meant that the wards were being chased, or even currently fighting, yet another foe.

  Based off the battlefields they’d seen and the information from the messenger, it was safe to assume that the wards had been in at least four conflicts. They’d been riding hard for at least twenty-four hours. Talea had had to make at least one massive wave and they’d taken down four dragons, all of which took a great deal of energy.

  He knew they wouldn’t all survive another attack.

  Yhkon squeezed Eclipse’s ribs with his knees, asking for more speed. Despite his increasing weariness, the stallion lengthened his strides. The forest blurred by them, the wind cold and biting on exposed skin, making his eyes water.

  Even at that pace, he heard it, seconds before a mass of warriors came into view: a girl’s agonized scream.

  Talea.

  He slapped Eclipse’s hindquarters, something he never did unless the need for a burst of speed was dire. Whether the other Wardens kept up didn’t matter, they’d get there eventually. Eclipse bolted full-speed toward the men, the nearest of which were just beginning to notice and react. In the split seconds before he reached them, he saw that very few of them were normal Kaydorians. Instead they wore leather armor and helmets that looked like dragon heads. It was safe to assume that they were some elite group of Kaydor’s. That didn’t matter. None of them were mounted, their celiths a stone’s throw away, and the men had the good sense to get out of his way.

  Eclipse barreled into the opening. The men were circled around something. As the warriors finally reacted to Yhkon’s charge, getting ready to cut his celith down, Yhkon jerked the reins, pulling his feet out of the stirrups and up, crouching in the saddle. While Eclipse planted his hooves to stop, Yhkon sprang. The momentum carried him over the heads of the final warriors, and he landed in the open spot they were all gathered around.

  It took only a second to analyze the scene. Rikky was motionless on the ground. A soldier had his boot pressed against Talea’s bare, bloody back, while a commander stood over her, enjoying her torment. Not just any commander. Dejer, the one that had captured Yhkon and tried to torture information out of him three years ago.

  Yhkon cut down the soldier with his boot on Talea’s back in one strike, everyone still too stunned by his appearance to respond. She slumped to the ground, either unconscious from the pain or too exhausted to do anything else. Yhkon ripped off his hood and mask to glare at Dejer. Identity concealment didn’t matter. He wanted the man to know it was him.

  Dejer’s eyes widened briefly, before narrowing with disdain. “If it isn’t the tadpole.”

  Yhkon’s fingers itched to kill
the man, preferably slowly and painfully. The other Wardens had caught up and with various methods, broke their way into the middle of the circle with him. They stood with swords ready, facing the surrounding warriors. Yhkon spoke to Dejer, endeavoring to keep his voice steady despite the anger that made his jaw tight. “How do you want to do this? With honor, and fight me fair, or like a coward, and let your men do it?”

  Before Dejer could answer, one of the dragon warriors stepped forward. He carried two cutlasses, and Yhkon could tell by his bearing that while he may lack confidence, he didn’t lack skill. “I’ll make that decision, he’s not in charge here. If it’s all the same to you, you can take these two and go peacefully, with no further bloodshed.” Either the man lacked conviction about the mission, or he could tell it would be a bloody fight and didn’t think it worthwhile, especially since several of his hundred men were already injured.

  Yhkon didn’t answer immediately. He would be happy to let the dragon warriors and the other Kaydorian commanders go without a fight. Dejer, however, he wanted to take a swing at. Maybe the dragon warrior with the cutlasses guessed as much, because he spoke again. “I would happily let you take Dejer off my hands, except Kaydor would probably not be pleased. Another time, perhaps.”

  Yhkon grit his teeth and gave a tight nod. Another time, and he would have Dejer’s head. Right now, however, his first priority was Talea.

  “Excellent!” The man with the cutlasses spun one of the blades and pointed it at their celiths. “Let’s move it out.”

  The other dragon warriors were quick to obey the command and leave the Wardens, mounting their celiths. The Kaydorian commanders, particularly Dejer, were less eager. Dejer was red with fury, and gave Yhkon a final sneer before he rode off.

  The moment they were riding away, Yhkon dropped to his knees beside Talea. His stomach wrenched upon closer inspection. The back of her shirt had been largely burnt off, the skin beneath blistered and blackened. Dragon fire. There was a deep gash running diagonally from her shoulder blade to her waist. Fresh rage tensed his muscles. Jaylee knelt beside him, and then Grrake, and even if he’d wanted to he wouldn’t have been able to say a word. When he tentatively lifted Talea up, she whimpered, making a pitiful attempt to get away from him. He couldn’t get her name off his frozen tongue. Pulling her close, he hugged her as tightly as he dared, and finally managed, “It’s me.”

  “Yhkon?” Her voice cracked, so frail he barely heard it.

  “It’s me,” he said again. His throat was constricted. It was a pressurized feeling in his chest that simultaneously made him want to kill Dejer a dozen different ways, but also forget the war and Kaydor and just get her home, get her safe.

  Hearing a commotion, he looked up to see that Skyve and Terindi had ridden ragged celiths into view, practically falling out of the saddles. Terindi was silent and had a sort of vacancy in her expression, Skyve was mumbling incoherently about not knowing Talea and Rikky had stayed behind.

  Talea drew in a deep, shuddering breath, tears leaking from her eyes, squeezed shut from the pain. She relaxed into Yhkon’s arms, body going entirely slack. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, before she faded out of consciousness.

  10

  Family

  T HE hasty bandaging job around Talea’s back was stained red already. “This is far enough, everyone stop.”

  Every rider halted their celith. The animals were grateful for that—they’d been moving as fast as the wards’ three celiths could go, ever since the Kaydorians left three hours ago. As badly as the teenagers needed to be properly attended medically, Yhkon had decided that putting some distance between them and the Kaydorians was even more important. The thirty miles they’d managed would have to be good enough for now.

  With some help from Haeric, he climbed down with Talea. Gustor was already helping Jaylee with Terindi, so Yhkon was free to set Talea on the ground, get his supplies, and get down beside her. He’d done a quick disinfecting and bandaging job earlier, but now he could take the time to clean and dress the wounds properly. The Wardens that didn’t have an injured ward to tend either helped those that did, or took care of the celiths.

  To his chagrin, Grrake decided to “help” him, rather than more usefully help someone else or the celiths. The man wasn’t even helpful when Yhkon wasn’t mad at him, since he had the least medical knowledge, and stomach for injuries, of all the Wardens. “Can I help?”

  That was an easy answer. “No.”

  Not to be so easily put off, unfortunately, Grrake knelt down anyway, and made sure all of the supplies were arranged to be easily accessible as needed. “Then...can we talk?”

  Yhkon glared at him as he laid Talea over his knee, so he could work on her back. “Really? Now?”

  It was apparently one of those uncomfortable instances where Grrake had had enough and wasn’t going to back down like he usually did. “Yes, now. I’ve been trying for weeks and you brush me off. I respect it when you need space, but we’re clearly past that point, and nothing’s going to change until you at least tell me what’s even wrong.”

  He pursed his lips to keep from responding too hastily, and too harshly. Instead he took a moment to pour disinfectant over a cloth and began dabbing Talea’s burns with it. “Nothing’s going to change anyway. Shanteya’s here. That ch-changes things, and that’s just the way it is n-now.”

  Grrake gave him a skeptical frown, a rarity from him. “That’s it? You know I don’t believe that. Yes, things have changed, but that’s not what happened—you shut me out completely.”

  “Because you don’t even wa-want to be here!” Yhkon bit his tongue as soon as the words escaped, having never intended to say as much. Not watching for Grrake’s reaction, he pretended to be completely focused on bandaging Talea’s back, then wrapping strips of cloth around her torso to keep it there.

  It was a few seconds before Grrake spoke. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, that I don’t want to be here?”

  “He means,” Jay sat down beside Yhkon, looping her arms around his shoulders, “that you didn’t—”

  “If I wanted to t-tell him, I would have.” He got up, forcing her to let go.

  Jaylee rolled her eyes as she got up too, grabbing his hand and holding tight when he tried to walk away. “I’m going to let that go this time. But here’s how this is going to happen, dear.” She moved closer, taking his other hand. “Either you’re going to tell him, or I will.”

  Half of him wanted to kiss her, half wanted to glare at her too. He knew she meant it—if he walked away, she would explain the whole thing to Grrake. Maybe that was better. If Grrake had to find out from one of them, better that it was her, who could actually articulate it. “Fine.”

  “Good.” She kissed his cheek. Letting go of his hands, she instead took Grrake by the arm and led him away for a private discussion.

  That left Yhkon to either fume or feel awkward. Best to distract himself. He bandaged another, smaller cut on Talea’s arm. Checked Eclipse’s legs for any inflammation, then Ember’s. Left Talea lying on her side to check on the condition of the other wards—Rikky was semi-conscious, occasionally mumbling inaudibly and squirming. Skyve had fallen asleep, so had Terindi. They all had mild injuries, but nothing that wouldn’t mend. Going back to Talea, he put one of his shirts backwards over the tattered remains of her own. It was big enough to fit easily over the bandages, and with the buttons in the back, he’d be able to access her back when necessary.

  All that, and Jaylee and Grrake were still talking. Like parents conferring about a difficult child’s behavior.

  Alternatively flexing and clenching his fingers, he paced. His breathing was irregular and agitated, despite his efforts to control it. He pictured Shanteya in his mind, the first time he’d seen her at the wedding. If only she’d never come back. Knowing she was his mother, sending a few letters—that had been tolerable. But the moment she’d shown up, it was all a disaster. Between her, and this wretched war almost taking Talea’s
life, all the...the pain he’d thought was behind him was coming back. He could feel it, like a shadow as something blocked out the light. The thoughts he couldn’t control, the restlessness, the dark awareness that something was wrong.

  He didn’t hear Jaylee coming back. She was suddenly there, trying to take his hand. And without even thinking, he pulled it away and turned his back to her, wishing she’d leave.

  Yhkon blinked, realizing what he’d done. Yet also realizing that it wasn’t simply a reaction—he wanted to be alone. But he knew he couldn’t be. So he spun to face her and took the hand she’d offered.

  Her eyes were searching his, soft with a sad sympathy and worry. Seeing it melted some of his irritation and detachment of only a moment ago. He wanted to say something, probably to apologize, but before he could she whispered, “Please don’t do that. Not to me.”

  Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her close and nodded. “I’m sorry.” When he looked to where she’d been talking to Grrake, his father’s back was turned, and after a moment he went to his celith without once looking in their direction. But Yhkon knew better. He knew Grrake well enough to know his father would be mortified that Yhkon had overheard his discussion with Shanteya, and even more mortified that he felt betrayed by it. His father was simply trying to hide it, because he knew Yhkon didn’t want his apologies or reassurance.

  After all, it had always been Grrake that had stuck by his side, even when he lashed out or stormed off, ever since he’d been fourteen. Back when Grrake had been all he had. Now, he had Jaylee, and Grrake had Shanteya.

  Maybe it was time to stop relying on Grrake.

  ~♦~

  The days it took to get to the outpost, then the days of flying, were long and dreary. No one was in the best of spirits. After the first two days of riding, Wylan’s team caught up to them. Yhkon had sent for them while they were running to Talea’s aid, figuring they might need more help. He had the four of them cover their trail and deal with any Kaydorians that were tailing them, so that they could travel straight to the outpost without worrying about giving its location away.