Page 7 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Seven

The sun warms my skin as I stroll through the green meadow, dragging my fingers through a cluster of tall skyburst blooms and stroking their velvety blue petals. Everywhere I look, flowers brighten the clearing, surrounding me in a rainbow of colors. Up ahead, a gentle breeze ruffles a dragonflight blossom, causing the yellow and orange petals to flap like a real dragon’s wings.

As I continue walking, the meadow’s serenity slowly drains away. The gathering clouds blot out the sun, and the dragonflight flower wilts and dies before my very eyes. A hush falls over the clearing as the growing shadows that cling to the umberheart branches ooze down and soak into the soil.

A shiver of dread snakes through my limbs.

Something is coming. Something awful. I try to turn and run, but oily tendrils coil around my ankles and lock me in place. All I can do is watch the scene play out around me as the darkness spreads.

Pikas burst from the thickets of grass where they bedded down and scatter, their sharp eyes wide with fear, and their ears rigid as their heads swivel in search of the danger.

Their terror engulfs me.

Underfoot, the grass whispers secrets to the night. Above, indifferent stars veil themselves behind a cloudy shroud.

My legs pump, but I still can’t move.

No. No. No. Something isn’t right. I need to ? —

A lone arrow whizzes past my head and hits the ground. The shaft sticks straight up into the air, the feathers on the end still quivering.

I blink. That’s my arrow. How did it get here?

The feathers begin to undulate as shadowy tendrils slither up the shaft. They envelop the entire arrow until it disappears from view.

I blink again, and the shadows are gone.

The arrow too. The only remnant is a piece of feather, all dried up and brittle and curled into a blackened bit of nothing.

My chest tightens. I know the feather is trying to tell me something, but what?

The wind becomes icy. Black birds plummet from the sky, dead before they hit the grass. Covering my head with my hands, I glance up for an explanation.

Overhead, the dark sky twists upon itself.

Wait…I remember. This happened before.

The drachen. They’re back.

Battling through the foggy haze of confusion in my brain, I reach deep inside myself and summon my magic.

Nothing happens. Not even a trace of power heats my veins. I try again to no avail. My power is blocked.

A chill crawls over my skin. Something’s wrong.

I yank on the tethers restraining me, but my feet remain planted.

Around me, the temperature continues to drop. Darkness morphs into glittering black eyes.

Hundreds of them, black on black. They keep opening and closing, watching me as if judging the worth of my soul.

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m trapped, powerless to do anything except stare at my unknown enemy.

An endless abyss stares back at me.

The chill seeps deeper, sinking into my bones. A woman’s mournful cries fracture the silence. The sound burrows through my skin and muscle and claws at my insides.

More wails join hers. They’re weeping for their dead. Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, friends, lovers. Hot tears blur my vision, then slide down my cheeks.

Beneath the first woman’s sorrow, I hear something else.

She’s saying something. What is it?

“My son. My beloved son.”

The words resonate, a haunting lament threading through my veins.

“Break the world. Save the world.”

Fear seizes my heart in a vice grip. I need to get out of here.

Determined to do just that, I glance down at my legs to break free and instead drown in horror. The shadows seeped into my skin, leaving behind two black, rotting stumps.

I jolt awake to find the predawn gloom blanketing the morning. Sterling stirs in his sleep and mumbles before rolling onto his side.

My heartrate takes its sweet time returning to a healthy rate. What a terrible dream. I only pray it’s not a sign from the gods regarding our upcoming trip.

I sneak out of Sterling’s bed and return to my chamber. Agnar is nowhere to be seen, so I skip breakfast and sling my pack over my shoulders before heading for the fire paddock.

I walk over dew-laden pavers to where Bastian, Leesa, Agnar, and Blair are gathered, next to the high stone wall that surrounds the paddock and protects the rest of the courtyard from any stray dragonfire or embers. The Tirenese men all have their wings out, marking my sister as the only outsider. But we’re all armed and dressed in practical riding clothes.

A squadron all set to fly.

“Morning, everyone.” I smile at the group before addressing my sister. “Are you ready to ride a dragon?”

Despite my encouraging smile, she seems a little green around the gills. I don’t know whether it’s due to her acting a little off last night or the fact that the last time she was up close and personal with dragons, they nearly incinerated her.

Given her experience, an alicorn would have served as a more comfortable mount, but there are no alicorns to spare. Stable cough hit the palace and the animal healer restricted them from flying.

Returning my smile, she lifts her chin. “Can’t wait.”

Together, we go through the gate to cross the sand and crushed stone of the paddock grounds. Eight dragons loiter inside, a few of which are sleeping like mountains of muscle and scales.

In my mind, I reach out, wordlessly communicating our plans.

Dame and Chirean don’t respond, which is no surprise. The soon-to-be parents are undoubtedly with their clutch in the cavern and can’t be bothered. Before any of the others respond, Kaida lifts his head.

Through his emotions, he communicates his interest in heading north. His giant ebony head shifts, and he stares at Bastian, most likely recognizing him as a dragonrider already, before his gaze settles on Leesa.

“Looks like we have a volunteer.” I don’t need to point to who her mount will be as Kaida continues to rise, showing off his blue throat and underbelly, which I could easily walk underneath.

Kaida maneuvers around a sunbathing green dragon named Tanwen—the one Sterling often rides—and approaches Leesa. Her lips twitch into a reluctant smile, a silent thanks shining in her eyes.

“Remember not to make direct eye contact. Not until he’s used to you, anyway,” Bastian softly reminds her from his place at the edge of the paddock.

Leesa takes heed, making sure to show no fear. Kaida lowers his head and chuffs at Leesa, blasting her braid back with each exhalation.

Bastian checks Kaida to ensure our bags are properly loaded and strapped down for the journey ahead. He then steadies Leesa as she scales the dragon’s lowered foreleg. Her arms shake, and I’m not sure it’s all from the physical strain.

“Easy there.” Bastian keeps his voice reassuring. “Kaida will take care of you.”

I flex my wings, testing their strength, before stepping closer and offering Leesa an encouraging nod. “And we’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

“Lark, you’re still not used to flying long distances with any real weight.” Blair hands me a filled water bag and shows me where to connect it to my flight harness so it’s available while flying. “If you get too tired, let us know. I can help you carry your kit to give you a break. And remember to ride?—”

“Ride the thermals every chance I get in order to conserve my energy.” I nod along. “Dame likes to remind me of that too. Getting trained by a brooding dragon is chock-full of safety precautions.”

Blair stifles a laugh. “She’s worse than Sterling.”

“Oh, trust me.” I level him with a you don’t know the half of it look. “She’s not. Sterling’s program here includes trying to fly while dodging inanimate objects big enough to crush my skull or fending off elemental magic. Back at Flighthaven, he made me muck out alicorn stalls until my hands were covered in blisters. Said it was part of the training. I could go on, but we don’t have all day.”

Leesa gapes at me but doesn’t say a word.

“Sounds about right. He always did like to make training…interesting and unpredictable.” Agnar pats me on the back. “Considering you survived, this should be a simple enough flight for you. If we want to reach our destination before nightfall, we’d better get going.”

Once everyone agrees, I give Kaida the signal.

With a powerful leap, Kaida takes to the air, and I follow suit.

Leesa’s eyes are squeezed shut, so she’s missing the view as we continue to climb high enough to fly over the palace towers and walls. We ascend even higher to avoid the need to constantly dodge trees.

The ground falls away, and the cool rush of the morning breeze embraces us. Leesa’s knuckles blanch where they grip Kaida’s spiney neck, but as the land recedes below and the angle of ascent tapers off, her tension begins to lift and her eyes slowly ease open.

“See? Much like riding an alicorn.” Bastian flies effortlessly on her other side, his laughter a clear note against the hush of the wind.

“It really is.” There’s a hint of curiosity in her voice as she leans over to peer at the ground. “It’s just been a while since I’ve flown. And my first encounter with Tirene’s dragons was less than stellar, as you all know.”

This is her first time riding on the back of a dragon, and though she’s used to alicorns, there’s just something special about flying in general that never gets old.

Thankfully, this leg of our journey is uneventful. After some hours pass, the desert comes into view, a sea of gold through wavering lines of heat that rise up to meet us. The Impassable Desert. Beautiful, deadly, and utterly indifferent to our quest.

“This is where we can skirt past on the coast.” Blair swings closer to Leesa and me so we can hear him as he yells.

He points westward to a ribbon of green that marks a lifeline amid the desolation. I follow the thin strip of plant life along the coast until the green peters out into the gold.

Why is the desert so close to the ocean? Wouldn’t storms off the water be able to reach the sand? Unless the desert is so hot it stops the rain. Where does that kind of heat come from?

Even at this distance, the heat is noticeable. The thermals produced along the edge are strong enough to lift us all. Holding my wings open, I rest on the updrafts of air, letting them carry me along.

Threading the line between ocean and desert is easy, even carrying the heavy pack. The only time I have to work is to change direction, sliding from one updraft to the next, until the desert tapers away. My stomach rumbles, prompting me to pull the travel rations from my bag and eat while in the air, the same as everyone else.

The landscape changes to forest and still, we fly on. Eventually the Red River comes into view, a sliver of silver threading through the dense foliage below. We hover above it, casting fleeting shadows on the canopy as our wings beat a rhythm against the air. According to the map clutched in my hand, this is where we should land to take the boat across. A notion that seems absurd when the sky offers freedom and speed.

I signal the others, and we gather around Kaida so we can discuss the situation.

“Seems like a waste of time to take a boat.” Agnar echoes my thoughts.

“Maybe there’s a reason.” A rosy hue has colored Leesa’s cheeks.

I squint at the map, at the small drawings that all but insist on a waterborne approach. “But why?”

“Maybe whoever created this map didn’t have wings?” Bastian checks the ground below. “The canopy’s rather thick. I can’t see anything through it.”

Since Blair and Agnar are the two most experienced members of our party, I seek their guidance.

“Let’s just fly across.” Like Bastian, Agnar inspects the ground around us. “It’s a city, not a building. We should be able to find a place to land. Unless the wilderness has completely taken over the place. In which case, I doubt we’ll find anything useful.”

We glide onward, crossing the river’s expanse.

And reality warps.

The land and river below blur, smudging like wet ink on parchment. The trees, the water, all of it fades into a gray-green nothingness.

My stomach swoops, plummeting toward the ground while my mind swims.

Kaida growls and shakes his head as if to clear it. He flaps his wings to throw a wall of air in front of us in a desperate bid to decrease our momentum. Through our connection, his confusion and anger flood me, amping up my own out-of-control emotions.

Leesa yelps and leans closer to his neck.

My heart gallops as I dodge the sudden dragon-induced hurricane. With the distorted, wonky sky and surroundings, the whole world seems topsy-turvy. I can barely tell which way is up.

We can’t stay in the air like this. Not if we don’t want to risk getting disoriented enough to crash. “Retreat!”

No one argues as each Tirenese flyer flips in the air, preparing to flee. In drunken zigzags, we fly back the way we came. As if this airspace is part of some sort of bizarre alternate reality, as soon as we cross the river, the world snaps back into place, sharp and clear once more.

“What in the name of the gods just happened there?” Bastian darts left and right, checking below to make sure of what he’s flying over. “Every time I cross the far bank, the landscape distorts. But once I reach the river, it looks normal.”

I mimic him and get the same results while the rest of the group gawks at us from their positions over the river. “Everything fades out when I move toward where the Lost City is supposed to be, except for the area where we’re supposed to take the boat.”

“How is that possible?” Leesa starts to fall a little behind since Kaida appears reluctant to approach the affected area.

Bastian stares at the once again vivid greenery below us. “It could be a curse. Some sort of ancient magic. We don’t know how or why the Lost City became…well, lost.”

“Or it could be ritual magic.” I’m worried we’ll have frequent issues with this during our journey. Magic we don’t understand and can’t sense. “We know nothing about that or what it’s capable of. And for whatever reason, we can only find this city by following the route on the map.”

Agnar scowls. “Which means if anything goes wrong, no one else can find us because we’re the ones with the map. We should find a safe place to camp for the night, then head back. Sterling will want to know about this, and he’ll have my ass if anything happens to you.”

I’m afraid if we return to the palace without finding the Lost City, Sterling will insist it’s too dangerous to try again. And with the drachen still out there and Ziva only knows what other threats, we have no choice but to continue on.

We have to do this.

I shake my head. “I’m fine. We’re all going to be fine. There’s no reason to turn around. Sterling knows we have the map. He’s aware it’s risky. Nothing has changed, though. We have each other. We just need to correct course and take the boat across.”

Blair slows the beat of his wings. “Where’s the blasted boat?”

Kaida moves again, flying in lazy circles as he descends. The rest of us follow.

That’s when I spot it.

A weathered black statue—a fierce cat of sorts—perched atop a mossy stone. Something about the sight tugs at me, like a whisper of a dream. Tracking the way the head is pointed, I find an equally moss-covered pier.

“Over there.” The others track my pointed finger.

Bastian glances between Leesa and me. “This is odd.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Agnar rolls his eyes.

We descend cautiously. Landing near the statue, I glide closer as if drawn by an inexplicable pull. It’s just a statue, I remind myself, yet the sensation of being monitored creeps along my spine.

“Hello, little watcher.” I wonder if it holds the key to crossing the enigmatic river, or if it’s simply another piece in a puzzle designed to confound and control.

The river stretches before us, deceptively calm and wide. A large rowboat bobs against the dock, its rope frayed but holding fast.

Something about our passage across these mystic waters seems off.

Too convenient.

Are we walking into a trap? Is Agnar right? Should we return to the palace and regroup?

Stick with the plan. That’s just fear talking.

The dock creaks beneath my feet, interrupting the eerie silence that hangs over the Red River. My fingers trace the grain of the worn wood, a tangible reminder that this place, though shrouded in mysteries, is real.

The dream still lurks at the edges of my consciousness. A night filled with black eyes that spied on me from the shadows, scrutinizing, calculating. Though I manage to shake off the memory, the hairs on the back of my neck suggest I’m still being observed. That knowledge clings to me like a second skin.

Beside me, Blair’s gaze remains locked on the water, his easygoing demeanor swallowed by the gravity of our task. He inches closer to inspect the vessel. Its wooden hull bears the scars of time and use, yet it floats dutifully, awaiting passengers.

Across the river, an unnatural fog conceals more than it reveals.

“Creepy, isn’t it?” Leesa’s brow furrows as she finishes re-braiding her dark golden blond tresses. “Are you sure about this?”

Her hesitation gives me pause. This isn’t typical Leesa behavior. But then, this day—this whole situation—is far from typical.

Who wouldn’t be a little reluctant to cross an eerie river into an all but forgotten city where anything could be lurking? I am, though I’m certainly not going to admit that out loud.

There’s no backing out now, not when we’ve come this far. “Positive.”

My wings twitch at my back, eager for flight, yet we’re bound by the need to adhere to the map’s cryptic guidance.

Kaida snorts in rumbling discontent as he casts a meaningful glance toward the forest. His hunger and thirst rolls through me, along with his desire to hunt.

I nod, understanding his reluctance. After all, there’s not much he can do. He wouldn’t fit in the boat, and he can’t fly over to meet us.

“Leesa, Kaida can’t continue with us. He’s going wait for us here.”

“Give me just a minute.” Leesa pats the dragon on the neck before shimmying down his extended foreleg.

“Ready?” Once I step into the boat, the others begin to follow suit.

We settle into the creaking vessel.

With the weight of five people, all with heavy packs, I expect the boat to sink down into the river, yet the watercraft stays at the same level.

It barely even rocks as Leesa, the last one, climbs aboard. “Where are the oars?”

I start to look around just as the boat jerks forward, propelling us into the heart of the Red River without warning or consent. The ropes that held the boat are now curled around the posts of the dock as if they’ve resided there for decades.

Ziva help us.

Our little boat lurches forward into the river, pulled into the current by unseen forces.