Page 27 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The valley unfolds beneath us like a secret garden, a sparkling stream running through the middle. Trees line the edges, all different varieties and in the peak of verdancy. Colorful birds flit from tree to cliff face. Deer, a mother and two fawns, drink from the crystalline water.

It’s incredible. And even more amazing is that this unknown slice of paradise seems to be unmarred by humans.

Bastian stands beside me, awe coloring his features as Kaida and Nailah take flight.

Their presence doesn’t faze the animals in the valley.

“Can you believe this place?” My gaze tracks the mountain ring that cradles the valley in its stony embrace.

It’s only then that I spot the clarity of light bathing us. The sky above is blue, except it isn’t quite right. The light at the top seems to be twinkling. Lazy trickles of water meander down the mountain face.

My mind finally registers what I’m seeing. A dome of clear ice caps this secret utopia, holding in warmth despite the covering of mountaintops on the outside.

What is this place?

The emotions swirling around me are not just my own. Neither do they solely belong to Nailah and Kaida. There’s another presence. Strong and vibrant. Before I can process everything, a shadow crosses overhead, and I jerk my gaze up.

My breath catches.

A flock of dragons zooms through the sky, arrowing toward Kaida and Nailah.

“Dragons incoming. Let’s hope they’re friendly.”

“I didn’t know any wild dragons still lived this far south,” Bastian whispers, his voice tinged with disbelief. “They’re magnificent.”

My heart hammers as our dragons mingle with the others whose scales mirror the earth and sky, greens and browns and blues painting them like living extensions of the valley itself. They spiral and dance among the magically created clouds.

Emotions from the flight above us bombard me. Fear, curiosity, irritation, all spurred by our intrusion into their home. And all from younger dragons, unsure of our intent. But then a sense of calmness washes over the connection. The older ones, their minds seasoned and open, welcome us to come forward and present ourselves in their home.

There’s a hint of command in the offer, and I realize we’re something of an oddity to them. Which makes sense considering this valley is concealed from humans.

“We’re good to go. They’re eager to meet us.”

Bastian raises his eyebrows. “You sure I’m not about to get torched?”

I wiggle my hand. “Like, ninety-five percent sure, give or take.”

My brother sighs. “Great. Feeling very reassured right about now.”

I nudge his arm. “Joking.” I hope. “You grew up in Tirene, so I’m surprised you’re afraid of a few wild dragons.”

He shoots me a wry look. “Key word being wild . These dragons may never have interacted with or even seen humans before.”

Point taken.

I stretch my wings wide, the strokes of burgundy and gold shimmering in the light. With a shared glance, we leap upward, entering the domain of these majestic creatures.

The older dragons seem to nod, a silent welcome extended to two strangers who have stumbled upon their secret world. Their caution brushes our connection like feathers.

A few of the younger ones “accidentally” cut between Bastian and me as they make their passes, pushing him away so he has to struggle to stay close to me.

After managing to relay that Bastian is with me and didn’t coerce or force his way in, I learn none of these dragons have seen humans before, not even the winged people.

Except for the ancient one.

I share this with Bastian, who’s as curious to meet this ancient dragon as I am.

We’re escorted deep into the valley, flanked by scales of green and brown and blue, over a landscape alive with wonders. This isn’t simply a valley where dragons live. It’s a complete ecosystem with animals of all types. A massive tawny feline, with sharp horns protruding next to its ears and fangs like scythes, prowls the underbrush.

My heart leaps at the sight. “Bastian, do you see that?” I hiss.

Bastian’s eyes go wide. “Holy hells, it’s a devil cat. They’re supposed to be extinct.”

My amazement catches the attention of some of our draconian guards.

They glance in our direction but quickly lose interest. The miraculous reappearance of the devil cat must be old news to them.

My scholar brother all but rubs his hands together. “This means other animals we thought were extinct might be here as well.”

“That’s cool as long as none of them want to snack on us.”

He huffs. “Spoilsport.”

“I hate to break it to you, brother dear, but getting eaten by a giant dagger lizard would also be something of a downer.”

“But think of how cool it would be to investigate its digestive system firsthand.”

I snicker, and he slants me a grin. At this point, I think we’re both a little slaphappy.

The river’s serpentine path opens to a sandy shore. There, basking in the sun’s embrace, lies a dragon who’s so large he wouldn’t even fit in the throne room of the palace in Yorla.

I suck in a sharp inhale. “Holy gods. Look at him.”

Nailah and Kaida land, venturing close enough to the other dragons to trade scents and exchange greetings with swishes of tails and bobbing heads.

“Like a piece of history come to life.” Bastian brightens, and I can almost see the little scholarly wheels turning in his mind. “I wonder how old he is.”

If the sheer size of this ancient dragon isn’t enough to give away his mighty age, the power I feel radiating from him is. He’s built like any other male dragon—two rows of razor-sharp teeth, horns spiraling from his head, spikes in the lower spine, clubbed tail—but even so, there’s something different about him.

Something more than the ancient power. He’s a brilliant silvery color, his scales shimmering in the light. I’ve never seen a dragon this shade before. He’s magnificent.

Our approach does not go unnoticed.

The dragon’s head lifts, gray eyes clouded with years yet sharp with awareness. His salutation is a touch, old and wise, upon my mind. Like the others, he’s eager to meet us. More so, even.

The only other humans he’s run into here are the wingless kind. He torched them for trespassing.

The emotions behind that memory are not pleasant, and I remind myself not to convey any hint of curiosity on my side about that encounter. Bastian and I land at a respectful distance and give a slight bow, like we’re paying our respects to a king.

Oddly, the escort of dragons remains in the air. In fact, they purposefully stay away so as not get caught up in any reaction the ancient one has to our arrival. Most hang back to watch how he responds to us, reserving their judgment until then.

As his milky eyes search over us and his snuffling of our bodies blasts my hair back, his awe at meeting the people he learned about from his mother many years ago dances along my mind. “His mother spoke of us. Well, Tirenese people. Which at least explains the map we found.”

Stepping forward, I hold out a hand, palm up. The dragon lowers his massive head. With slow, gentle movements, I stroke a very small part of his scaly cheek.

At the simple touch, a strange knowledge enters my mind.

Just one word. I don’t know how or why, but somehow I’m certain that it’s the ancient dragon’s name.

“ Cailleach .” The name rolls off my tongue, and the dragon chuffs as if pleased. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Assurance floods the connection between us, leaving me no doubt.

Not for the first time on this journey, Bastian’s jaw drops. “How did you?—”

“Don’t really know.” I shrug one shoulder. “It was this feeling I got when I touched him. The word just popped into my head.”

“Damn,” he says before snapping his mouth shut.

Yeah. Damn.

The dragon conveys his curiosity regarding how we came to be here and why.

I skip the complex journey that brought me here, sharing only that the goddess of night told me to come here, and that I am searching for phoenix tears in the hopes of saving my people, and possibly the world, from a spreading corruption that breeds violence and death.

Somewhere along the way, I realize Cailleach is communicating with me in full thoughts and words. The awe and excitement this discovery generates dims when pain flickers in his ancient eyes. His grief informs me that I won’t find what I’m looking for. Phoenixes have not been here in ages. If they were still here, his sight would not be clouded from long infection.

The air seems too thin around us. The news hits like an alicorn’s kick, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

I was so fucking certain. How could Nyc be wrong? Was she somehow mistaken, or did she purposefully mislead us?

Bastian’s hand finds my shoulder, providing a steadying anchor. “What is it?”

“There are no phoenixes left here. Not a single one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.” My voice comes out raspy as I continue to share the dragon’s story. “Generations have turned since their departure. This valley was their prison, encased by the craft of humans without wings who possessed strong magic. All the phoenixes who dwelled here led miserable lives, tortured so the humans could harvest their tears. In captivity, their endless cycle of death and rebirth extinguished their will to live. In the end, even the fire of the phoenix diminished.”

The revelation claws at something inside me, striking chords of horror and grief. The thought of such vibrant creatures caged and broken hits me in a deeply personal way. The idea of using tears extracted from the suffering of such majestic creatures twists and knots my stomach and scorches my throat with acid.

How does the ancient dragon know all of this?

Cailleach’s tail sweeps across the sand, the heavy club end bigger than my body. As he reflects on his past, he shares it with me.

“These dragons are the descendants of the ones who flew down here after the last phoenix died. They came to avenge their friends and kill those who had captured and tortured them. Then they stayed for the same reason. To kill any who would come here, to the last known place where phoenixes lived. But they never expected a dragoncaller to show up asking about them.”

Bastian’s eyebrows jump up, his surprise obvious in his voice. “Phoenixes and dragons were friends?”

Amusement ripples through Cailleach’s mind. Dragons can be friends with phoenixes the same way they can be friends with dragoncallers.

The exact same way.

“Phoenixes could share their emotions with dragons just like dragoncallers can. And it was because of that and their close friendship that this flight of dragons volunteered to move down here.” It takes me a few moments to figure out the next part. “They brought something from the phoenix and have protected it in this valley ever since.”

Bastian’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I asked if it might be tears, and he was really amused by that and told me to go look. He showed me the place at the end of the river where it’s kept. On the rocky shore of a lake.”

I pour my thanks out to Cailleach, using images to convey that I’ll go search for the item as suggested.

Wings beating in unison, Bastian and I fly along the stream’s winding path. The azure water stretches before us like a ribbon, leading to a glimmering lake nestled among a crown of rugged stones. As we approach, an inexplicable warmth blooms within my chest.

A pulsing, humming sensation that resonates with the thrum of magic in my veins.

“Feel that?” I call back to Bastian, my voice nearly lost to the wind.

“Not a thing.” He searches the landscape with the same intensity that fuels my own curiosity.

We slow our descent, landing on the pebbled shore of the lake. The air here is different, crisper and charged with an unseen energy that seems to beckon me forward. My eyes catch on something vibrant against the muted tones of the rocks.

There’s a feather, tinted in graduated shades of burgundy and red and orange and gold, its hues mimicking the fiery dance of flames.

I extend my hand toward the feather, plucking it from its odd perch between two stones. “Is this what he was talking about?”

As the smooth barbs brush against my skin, the world shifts.

The valley, Bastian, the whispering trees…all fade into nothingness as I’m thrust into a realm of memory and vision, my mind no longer my own.