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V ahly and Arc rushed up the animal trail, their pace devouring the distance between the rogues and them. Nix flew above, the scent of her fire magic strong in the breeze.

The link between Vahly and the gryphon fell slack—like a fishing line broken and unwinding from its reel—and Vahly’s stomach dropped. Her feet gave out and she began to collapse, but Arc took her arms.

“What is it?” He cradled her face in his warm hands as Nix landed behind him, her face full of questions.

Vahly couldn’t breathe. If they had hurt him, or worse… The tie between the gryphon and me…something is wrong. Very wrong.

Do you think they returned to that same camp? Sweat glistened along Arc’s smooth forehead as he helped Vahly begin running again.

With a sensation like a violent jerk, Vahly’s magic reminded her of what she already felt deep in her bones—the exact location of her familiar. “The bond between us is telling me where they’ve taken him. To their camp.”

Snarling, Nix took off into the sky with two heavy beats of her wings. They will suffer for this. I promise you that, Queen Vahly. She soared high, then dove to slide through the air directly over Vahly and Arc.

Vahly’s hair blew into her face, and the wind of Nix’s wings flattened the surrounding salt cedar bushes and scattered their blooms. Nix’s full dragon body tore through the wind and ice-blue sky like a storm cloud.

Shoving her hair from her mouth, Vahly pummeled the ground with her boots as she sprinted, her whole body shaking and images blinking through her mind.

The gryphon screaming.

Baz ripping the creature’s head from its body, blood spraying and bones shining.

Vahly’s jaw ached from clenching her teeth and from a lack of oxygen. She pulled a long breath, doing her level best to keep up with an elf and a flying dragon.

Did you realize we are all talking telepathically? Arc asked.

Vahly tripped on an olive tree root but caught herself quickly. They were speaking through thoughts. I wonder if it has to do with my bond with the gryphon.

Nix swooped low. Whatever it is, I’ll take it. Let’s use it to our advantage, hmm? I’ll speed past the rogues, then blast them from behind.

Vahly swallowed and loosened her shirt’s tie, even though it wasn’t tight against her neck. Watch out for the gryphon.

Of course.

And Arc, will you focus on securing the gryphon? Vahly asked. I’ll distract the rest. Your air magic is more reliable, and you can control your strikes to keep from hurting the gryphon.

Arc nodded as they hefted themselves over the boulders so they could take the rogues from above.

Vahly jumped into a circle of seven human-like rogues—Baz was missing—and scattered them as she drew the sword Amona had given her so long ago.

Sweat slicked the ivory hilt, but she didn’t pause.

Rage ringing in her ears and magic sluicing through her veins, she drew the blade across the face of the first dragon to attack her—Roke.

Righteous indignation had taken Vahly, and no guilt burdened her soul.

Roke’s hands went to his ravaged face. He tripped backward and stumbled into the fire, knocking smoking logs through the clearing.

Nix blew dragonfire at Luc and three others, then she struck out and managed to gouge Luc with her immense back talons, digging deep into his groin. He dropped, dead before he hit the ground. Arc cast bright orbs at Tadeo and another dragon, and they howled, most likely temporarily blinded.

Baz had the gryphon tied loosely to a holm oak, like a horse to a tether. The rope, knotted tightly like a noose, was nearly hidden at the neck beneath the gryphon’s new feathers and fur.

Vahly’s chest seemed to cave in as their bond screamed, and she gasped, pressing a fist against her ribs.

Three times larger than he had been when taken, the gryphon flew left and right, evading Baz’s blasts of dragonfire. Baz laughed at the gryphon, then turned and blew a torrent of fire at Arc.

Vahly flipped her sword to cut up and under Tadeo’s wing. The blade severed the joint completely.

Tadeo shifted into full dragon form as he shrieked. He lunged, fire roaring from his jagged maw.

Moving faster than she ever had, Vahly cut the ground with her sword, lifted the sandy blade to block the rippling flames, and commanded the earth to rise.

The ground shook.

Magic pounded Vahly’s ears and heart, and everyone still alive fell to the quaking earth, unable to stand as trees shook branches onto the ground and cracks cut through the grasses to break the camp into a maze of broken dirt.

Vahly swallowed and prayed she wasn’t about to accidentally kill her friends.

The rogues’ eyes went wide, mouths open to breathe fire.

The earth lifted Vahly to standing as she shot a look at Arc, willing him to free the gryphon.

Arc hoisted himself up and threw a knife. The silver blade slashed the gryphon’s tie.

Her chest tightened with power, her magic longing to speak death. “Destroy!”

The gryphon dove for Baz—the unshifted dragon lay on the ground, dazed by Vahly’s earthquake. The gryphon’s razor-sharp beak pierced the dragon’s exposed throat, then clamped down. The gryphon shook his prey, and Baz’s neck snapped. He flopped in the gryphon’s hold.

An olive tree, a holm oak sapling, and salt cedar slipped into the earth, as if pressed by an invisible hand.

After threading into the sandy mud, the trees erupted from the ground, each in the form of the gryphon, free from their roots and creeping toward Vahly’s enemies.

A sound like cracking branches poured from the earthen creatures’ mouths and sent a shiver down Vahly’s back.

The rogues who remained alive—four in total—seemed to realize their leader was lost. Fear ate the wild confidence from their features.

They blew fire at the earth gryphons.

Flames swallowed the salt cedar gryphon, and its remains grabbed the wind and flittered away. The other two earthen gryphons flew over and under the blazing tongues of heat before racing toward the rogues.

Circling the rogues, Nix flashed a straight, focused line of fire at the largest dragon’s back.

He spun to return the favor, but the olive tree gryphon flew at his neck and took his spine in a flash of glistening nettle teeth that had to be strong as steel to do the damage they did.

The olive and oaken gryphons turned to face Vahly. For direction? With a grunt, she pointed her sword at the last three rogues, and the gryphons—the true familiar included—rushed the enemy dragons and attacked in a horror of blood, leaves, twisting roots, claws, and rioting feathers.

Silence blanketed the air.

The last rogue’s emerald face paled as the wind grabbed the earthen gryphons and broke them apart into nothing.

Vahly’s legs folded beneath her, and she hit the ground hard. Blood oozed from her earlier head wound. Her sword arm throbbed with the burn of dragonfire. She fell forward, palms to the earth, her bones clacking like an old woman’s.

A soft head nuzzled under her arm, and a beak as smooth as a river rock touched her cheek.

She lifted her eyes and smiled, drawing the gryphon closer.

The gryphon stared with eyes that were both innocent and wise, reminding her of Etor—Arc’s horse that had been missing since the day Arc had headed into the marshes to help her.

Nix and Arc collapsed beside them.

Arc pushed sweat-slicked hair away from his face. Two lines of dark blood ran down from his pointed ears. Nix remained in full dragon form. Her snout pressed against Vahly’s back. The gryphon glanced at Nix, then at Arc. Arc nodded at the gryphon, telling him to allow the contact with Vahly.

Vahly shook her head, unbelieving. Her own band of breakers was developing new habits to support its tiny culture of misfit fighters. She put a hand on Nix’s cheek as Nix settled onto all fours behind her and Arc.

I’m sad that Roke had to go. Nix licked a wound that leaked from a spot between her front talons. But time could not be spared to speak with him.

Vahly’s temples pounded. She hated that kill, too. He might have been talked onto their side, but the violence had escalated so quickly. It had been Roke or her familiar and—

An image materialized in Vahly’s mind, separate from her own thoughts.

She froze, watching as an imaginary Roke spoke to a nearly transparent Baz and Luc.

The young dragon nodded and smiled, his form hazy like a plume of smoke.

He turned, and there was a deer beside their campfire, its body trembling as it died.

He smiled and tended the fire, not bothering to mercy kill the simplebeast like he should have, showing no respect for the creature at all.

The illusion faded.

Vahly blinked at Arc and Nix. Did you see that too?

Nix’s long neck stretched, her crystalline spikes sparkling, and then she cocked her head at the gryphon, giving him a questioning look. Was that you, youngling?

Vahly’s heart lifted. I truly think it was. She opened her arms, and the gryphon came closer, allowing her to hug him tightly. He smelled like bruised herbs and animal musk.

Arc’s deep voice massaged Vahly’s mind. The gryphon’s ability to communicate turns this band into a proper battle unit.

Vahly stroked the gryphon, whose back end couldn’t fit in her lap. His lion tail flicked the bloodied ground. She was too exhausted to say more, to do more.

As Arc healed Vahly’s head and Nix’s wound, Arc and Nix began a good-natured argument about the ins and outs of what the gryphon’s power would mean and how it had intensified with his ongoing growth.

The gryphon himself overwhelmed Vahly. She ran a hand along the rose-gray feathers that cloaked his stout neck. They were soft and fitted perfectly, like layered ovals in a game board.