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N ix, in dragon form, and Kyril, wild with panic and flashing images to Nix every other minute, flew through a misty fog that cloaked the Lapis mountain palace.

They’d traveled quickly over the fire marshes, only briefly using the resting spots Nix had found on her first trip across with Vahly. That felt like an age ago.

Nix and Kyril landed on the wide, stone steps, and Amona met them at the entrance.

“My scouts spotted you,” Amona said, her voice tight. “What is it? What is happening?”

Nix changed into her human shape, but she’d been in such a hurry that she hadn’t bothered saving her clothes during her earlier shift into full dragon form.

Naked as the day she was born, she bowed slightly to Amona, too worried for Vahly to care if she was giving up some of her pride in greeting the matriarch as a subject would. “It’s Vahly. The sea kynd took her.”

Amona’s face dropped into a mask of calm. She took a slow breath, smoke rising from her mouth and nose.

Tears burned Nix’s eyes. A servant came from the entrance and handed her a long dress hemmed with the Lapis symbol.

“Did you fight for her?” Amona asked, her voice staccato. “Is there any way she could still be alive? Tell me everything.”

Normally, Nix would gripe about that tone she was using, but she honestly didn’t care right now. Plus she knew Amona was only questioning her in that way because she was afraid. Nix understood. She pulled her sleeves down to her wrists and jerked her chin at Kyril to follow her and Amona inside.

“There was no time for a fight. A male sea kynd came onto the shore and grabbed her while she was on the water’s edge. I don’t know how he managed it. Arcturus went after her.”

“Good.” Amona tilted her head as if she were communicating telepathically with another dragon. “Kyril,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I am glad to see you so hale and hearty. Your queen will need you in the coming days.”

So Amona was taking the positive outlook. Nix approved. It did no good to think the worst in this situation. They had to hope Arc would help Vahly escape. Somehow.

But how? Nix argued with herself silently. Vahly didn’t have air magic like Arc. She couldn’t breathe underwater.

Amona led them into the great hall where a feast was in progress. “Please, sit.” She gestured to the seat next to what Nix assumed was Amona’s own chair, then the matriarch waved her hand, gesturing that one of her nobles should make way for Nix.

The noble in question was a pale, sky blue color not often seen in dragons.

There seemed to be a few younglings of that color though, and Nix privately wondered if the male had a bevy of lovers.

The noble huffed at Amona’s unspoken command, but with a look from Amona, he grimaced, bowed shallowly, and gave up his seat to Nix.

He strode across the room to sit with some middle-aged warriors who were trading stories in loud voices.

Nix picked at her venison but couldn’t manage to eat. “I have more bad news, Matriarch Amona. I’m afraid you’re going to wish you’d left me on the steps.”

Amona held her crystal goblet out for more cider. A servant flew a few feet above the goblet to pour and aerate the drink. “Do not hold back. The news is no fault of yours, I’m sure.”

Such kind words from the Lapis matriarch. Times truly were changing.

“Astraea attacked Illumahrah.”

Amona set her goblet on the table. “No.”

“It is a disaster. The Source’s spring remains, the Blackwater apparently unharmed. But the elven palace is hollowed out and severely damaged and…”

“Please. Tell me all. We must be prepared for the coming fight.”

“It appears that all the elves, save three and Arcturus, are dead.”

Amona slammed her goblet on the table and the dragons hushed, tucking their wings in submission, attentive to her anger.

“Such allies. Gone.” She closed her eyes and her chin dropped.

Then she raised her head. “Please,” she said to a passing servant, “take this away. Take everyone’s away.

We must hold off on such feasting.” Pushing away from the table, she stood.

“Our allies, the elves, have suffered a great loss at the hands of the sea folk. All the elves save four are gone from this world.”

Hushed whispers crossed the hall as servants hurried to take the food back to the kitchens.

About half of the dragons filed out of the room, presumably heading for their chambers. Kyril had curled up in a corner of the great hall. His great blue-gray wings pulled around him like bed curtains.

Nix stood and faced Amona, who’d been giving directions to Helena, the healer who often worked with Vahly. Nix knew her from all of Vahly’s tales.

“Matriarch Amona,” Nix said, “the three remaining elves headed toward Tidehame in hopes of aiding Arc in his rescue efforts. I think we should gather a unit of yours and mine and head that way too. I can’t stand not being a part of her rescue.”

Amona nodded. “They might need help from the air. Please come to my chambers as soon as you—”

Then the sky blue noble at the warriors table made a gurgling sound and slid from his seat to the floor.

After a great amount of chaos and the return of Helena, who had left when Amona had first announced the grave news, it was discovered that the noble, a Lord Maur, had contracted some terrible illness.

It was eating his scales away at the edges, similar to what spelled salt water did but with more of a flaking effect rather than a blackening and dissolving one.

But this sickness also brought a harsh fever and stole his desire for food.

Nix kept her distance, staying out of the way as Helena tried poultice after poultice, tonics, and salves. The smell of hyssop, yarrow, birch bark, and a thousand other herbs filled the great hall.

Then another Lapis, one of the warriors who had sat next to Lord Maur, also fell ill.

And a third.

A fourth.

Amona had the servants open the earthblood vents, her mask of calm firmly in place.

Nix found Kyril and sat beside him. “Come with me to the cider house.” She stroked his enormous, terribly furry paw, and he tucked his beak under her arm. “We will get help for the Lapis and arrange a group to fly back to help our queen. All right?”

Kyril clicked his beak. He flashed an image of Vahly’s open mouth and wide eyes, a memory he had of the moment she’d been taken. A small growling noise came from his belly.

“Are you hungry?” Nix fetched one of the plates of venison that had been set on a side table. She held it out for him, but he nudged it away and put his head under one of his wings.

Nix stood, hands on her hips. What was she supposed to do about this? How many challenges would they have at once?

Steeling herself, she kissed Kyril on the head and slipped out of the great hall. She needed back up. She needed her Call Breakers.