Page 25 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)

Chapter

Thirteen

T he ‘old temple’ was the shrine I’d been in before; the alcoves covered in dust, the offerings of flowers long since turned to desiccated petals. I felt a frisson of eerie disquiet as I glanced at the empty alcove of Ustrael, wondering if her shrine in Talariel Eyrie was empty like ours.

And if not, what form they might’ve carved in her likeness.

I haven’t been in here since they died , Rhylan said, wiping his dust rag over Larivor’s stone nose. I left offerings to the Daughters for their spirits, and never came back. Looking at the gods, praying to them, after all that had happened…I hated them. I blamed them.

I don’t think they’d blame you , I said quietly. Who didn’t rage at the gods from time to time? They had created us, left us Laws that were as tight as a choking collar at times, and then vanished from the world.

I, too, had cursed Larivor and Naimah when I was left on the shores of Mistward Isle, but I didn’t think they’d hold it against me. They were all I’d had left to rail against in an uncaring world.

I swept old petals into a basket, swiping to get into the far corners of Naimah’s alcove and clear out the dust. We had boxes of new beeswax candles, and several Bloodless girls had gone out to the local towns to buy up fresh flowers.

Soon the shrine would gleam again, offerings made, decorated for a ceremony.

We were lost in our thoughts as we wiped and scrubbed. I’d progressed to the floor, scrubbing on my hands and knees, when a faint sound cut through our contemplative silence.

That was a dragon’s roar , Rhylan thought, looking up from the alcove where he was scraping old wax off the stones. That was Cai .

We stared at each other for several long seconds, and then, moving as one, we dropped our brushes and ran for the door.

I wasn’t in leathers; I’d been wearing a pair of old leggings and a long tunic to do the dirty work of cleaning the shrine. But we didn’t hesitate, making no stops, because Cai’s roar blasted out again and this time, even I heard the anger and impatience in it.

Kirana stood beneath the dragon door, looking up as Cai circled once more.

“Mykah came through,” she said quickly. “Doric is on his way, and the Iron Shards are at his back.”

Rhylan’s swearing became a thunderous grumble as he ducked under the saddle and shifted, and I climbed barefoot into my seat, wrapping the reins around my wrist.

Kirana glared up at me, but it wasn’t with anger towards me; her fists were clenched at her sides, lips drawn back in a snarl, and she blurted out, “Fuck!” with intense fury.

She stretched her shoulders, and I saw that the back of her leathers had been cut away, revealing the red, humped patches on her shoulder blades.

“Come on,” she whispered desperately, and though the red crept down her back where skin remained instead of scales, no wings burst forth.

Go, Rhylan , I said. I reached out and patted him twice, signaling that I was ready, and he exploded upwards.

The last thing I saw before the sky overtook my view was Kirana staring up after us, her face still furious and desperate as she tried to grow wings, and failed.

And then we were over the Krysiens, Rhylan’s wings pumping to gain altitude. A shiver ran through me, the icy air of the mountains cutting straight through the thin linen of my clothes, raising goosebumps all over my body.

There , I whispered in my mind, huddled close to the saddle to steal as much of Rhylan’s warmth as I could. Cai was ahead of us, his clarion call sounded and acknowledged, racing to the east.

East, from the Lunar Tides. My heart clenched, fear gripping me as I thought of Mykah.

But she’d come to warn us—as far as we knew, she was still alive, still unharmed.

She’s fine , Rhylan assured me. I smell her on the wind. The only blood I smell—

He cut off, but I heard it in his thoughts, smelled it through his mind: Doric’s blood.

A low hiss escaped through my teeth, and I closed my eyes, seeing through Rhylan’s.

He was focused on the bright spot of color ahead, following Cai, and on the horizon there were other dragons, one once an icy shade of blue, now all over red.

Doric…and several of the shining, steel-bright dragons of the Iron Shards were harrying him, their riders indistinguishable blobs.

Rhylan strained, willing his muscles to move harder, his wings to fly faster.

There were only three Iron Shards, but that was enough to make the difference for a single dragon.

Until Cai crashed into them, his jaws snapping at their spiky, armored hides. I watched, still safely behind Rhylan’s eyes, as he ripped a rider from her seat and threw her to the jagged peaks below. The dragon screamed, pale flames erupting from his mouth.

With a wince, I withdrew back into my own body. That was one of my worst fears, although I’d already realized it through Kalros.

The dragon spiraled from the formation following Doric, plunging beyond sight into the mountains.

We met in the middle, in a sudden clash of wings, claws, and fury.

Doric sped past us, spattering us with a fine spray of blood as he beat his wings, panting for breath—and Mykah was below, Solace weaving between the peaks, keeping pace with Doric.

I realized she was attempting to play back-up in case he fell from the sky…

but a dragon was far too much weight for a wyvern to support.

Rhylan turned on one of the Iron Shards. Up close, their House scions were as gray as their name: pale eyes, pale skin, all sharp angles. The dragons themselves were covered in spiky plates that resembled armor, raw-boned, their wings edged with razor sharp blades.

But Rhylan inhaled, releasing a long stream of black fire, scorching the vulnerable membranes of those wings. The Shards dragon spat back at him, his rider giving me a long look as they winged above us.

Pale fire crept along Rhylan’s neck, burning through the right leg of my pants, raising welts of fire on my skin. I hissed again, clinging to his back as I craned my head. Above and behind us .

Hold on tight . He twisted suddenly, a stream of nightfire flaring from his jaws, and the dragon banked—as a spot of violet careened past.

Solace’s claws raked the rider, and, caught between claws and flame, she made the worst mistake possible. She released the saddle.

I saw her slip sideways, white-blonde braid a gleaming beacon. Her nails scrabbled for purchase, and found nothing.

My stomach twisted as she fell, the dragon’s claws desperately reaching to catch her and failing, his eyes blinded by Rhylan’s fire.

One of the jagged peaks soon possessed a streak of red. I swallowed hard, a bitter taste in my mouth.

We kill them, or they kill us . Rhylan’s mental voice was hard. They would’ve sent Doric to the ground on her orders.

It was true. But I didn’t have to like killing.

One of the reasons I love you , he thought, so I’ll do it for both of us .

The dragon was easy prey after that. Blinded by fire and grief, his mind splintering, he hardly fought back when Rhylan sank his fangs into his throat.

Mykah and Cai were well ahead of us again, in hot pursuit of Doric and his final attacker. The dragon was Iron Shards, but the rider possessed golden hair, and wore the gold-edged leathers of Undying Light.

I thought of Mykah, treated like a dog, and wanted to urge Rhylan to go faster. And yet the image of the rider scraping her way down the peak stuck in my mind, and I wanted to recoil.

But it was her or Doric. Her or Mykah. We were only enemies.

Faster , I told him, leaning tight against the saddle.

But Cai got to them first. There was something to be said for being a dragon without a rider; there was no need to worry about the draga on your back.

He coiled around the Iron Shard, his body longer, thinner, more pliable than that of his target…

and then he contracted, crushing the armored dragon inside his own weighty scales.

The dragon let out a breathless wheeze, his rider screaming—her leg caught between her mate and Cai, nothing more than a pulp now.

Cai ended it quickly. We raced past, following the stench of Doric’s blood on the breeze, and found him only a few miles out from Jhazra Eyrie, but he was faltering.

He dipped lower and lower, his wingbeats slowing. The ice blue dragon was almost unrecognizable, his scales as red as Kalros.

And there was no Elinor on his back. No saddle at all.

I swallowed the hint of anxiety as Rhylan flew closer, angling himself beneath Doric’s left wing. Cai took the right, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

They nudged upwards when Doric dipped, Mykah leading the way. Both dragons pushed up to gain altitude as Jhazra came into sight, helping loft Doric to the dragon door.

The blue dragon nearly crashed inside to the floor below, leaving crimson smears all over the black stone. He shifted almost instantly, becoming a male covered in open wounds and scratches, bruised all over. I bit my lip as Rhylan brought us carefully to the floor, sliding from the saddle.

“Mykah, get Kirana,” I called upwards, carefully maneuvering Doric onto his back. He was almost curled into a fetal ball, breathing sharp and shallow. Above us, a violet shadow flashed away.

“Not dying,” he whispered to me. “It just hurts.”

“I’m already here.” Kirana’s voice was like cool water washing over me on a hot day, welcome and relief all in one. She knelt beside us, and Doric’s swollen eyes widened as he took her in. “Don’t even bother, Doric. I’m the same me. Now breathe in and out, slowly.”

Her clawed, ebon-scaled hands moved expertly over Doric, checking for broken bones and signs of internal bleeding, and he didn’t say a word of dissent. He just stared up at her, looking bemused and like he was in a very great deal of pain.

“No broken bones,” she murmured soothingly. “No internal injuries. You’re clawed to all Nine Hells, though it's nothing a night with a poultice won’t cure.”

“What are you?” he whispered, still staring up at her.