Page 42 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

“Please! A few more! Shift back, let them in!” I shout into the bunker. They manage to squeeze enough to let the four of them in, with Marge at the front. Though, there are so many of them the doors don’t close completely, despite how fervently people try.

“Get them out! You’ll kill us all!” a man shouts somewhere inside.

Some mutter agreements, and the crowd surges, trying to force people back out of the bunker.

I slam a fist against the door to get their panicked attention. “No! If you push, you’ll forfeit your right to stay here, do you understand? Stay, and do not move!”

Daeja roars behind me, and I turn and watch as she slithers around the dragon to be between it and me. The wild dragon snaps forward, latching its jaws around Daeja’s throat as she claws at its face.

My blade sings as I unsheathe it, my eyes focused on the wild dragon.

Daeja and the dragon fling and snap, swipe and strike, each fighting for the upper hand.

Despite her smaller stature, Daeja is quick and still presents a challenge for the other dragon.

I slink forward, raising my blade, and ducking under a swinging red tail.

Daeja slips out from the red dragon’s jaws, flinging herself on top and pinning the dragon on its back, before it throws her off into a building.

The building groans and folds, showering brick and wood onto Daeja.

She ducks under the impact, dust billowing out from the fall.

When her eyes flash open, they are pure white with a raging fury.

The red dragon is facing away from me as it snarls. I creep up and stab my sword down into the beast’s tail, straight through its thick muscle until I sink the blade hilt-deep. The dragon roars, spinning toward me with a live fire burning inside its small beady eyes.

I hold its gaze. “Stand down.”

Its lips curl up, revealing decades-old teeth, cracked, stained, and jagged. As it hisses, its rank breath washes over my face, but I refuse to flinch.

“Stand…”

Daeja slinks out from the rubble toward the dragon, shaking off any excess wood and bricks as she approaches the dragon from the other side.

“...down.”

A voice nearly as old as the Gods whispers inside my head as the dragon narrows its yellow eyes, “You housssse Sssspoiledssss. Wear and sssssummon the great magic. Wield dragonbladessss. A ssssinful ssspeciesss you are. Why sssshould we let you live?”

I remove the sword from its tail in a show of good faith, the dragon roars in pain as I do so. Its orange blood seeps from the wound, trickling down its shiny red scales and pooling on the pale cobblestones.

As I look the dragon in the eyes, I sheathe my sword and speak aloud, “We are a sinful species, that much is true. But many innocents live here. Children who haven’t yet been tainted.”

“You take our young, too. Ssssstole my eggsssss.” The dragon’s voice tilts more into something feminine as it stalks a few steps toward me, lowering its head to look me in the eyes.

“We are not the king of the south,” I explain. “He is the one who steals your eggs. And we do not condone such actions.”

Daeja growls as she sides next to me, ready to lunge if the she-dragon threatens.

The fire dragon drags her gaze from me up to Daeja, locking on her eyes as a silence falls between them.

Whatever they discuss, both of their pupils blow out and then narrow before the red dragon retracts her head, taking a few steps back from us.

Daeja stretches her neck forward, lowering her head over mine.

The movement alone conveys an entirely universal meaning.

Mine.

Daeja’s jaws part as a deep grumble vibrates in her chest, shuddering the blood in my veins.

The red dragon dips her head, staring at the ground as she backs away from us.

Her hind quarters back up into a building, and she pauses before looking up at me.

“Ssssave our kind,” she whispers inside my head, before launching into the sky.

I squint through the wild dragon’s gusts up at Daeja towering over me. “What did you say to her?”

Daeja finally tears her gaze off the dragon disappearing into the distant clouds and angles her head to touch her nose to my forehead. “Something along the lines of, ‘if she takes another step closer to you, I’ll destroy her.’”

“Leading by fear, I see?” I rest a hand on the column of her throat.

“She knew who I was. Most of the dragons do. But they think because I’m younger than them, they can sideline my requests. But you are mine. And I will not tolerate someone threatening you.”

I smile and turn to face her. “Are you hurt?” I brush my fingertips gingerly across her midnight black scales. But they shine as they always do, free from any blemish or wound. “You…you don’t have any injuries? You absorbed that fire?”

Daeja lifts her wings, glancing at the perfect webbing.

Well…aside from the single hole when she saved me back at the battle in Arterias.

She shakes her wings and spine like a dog ridding itself of water.

“Felt warm. But aside from that, I’m fine.

” She lifts her head, eyes snapping to the distance.

“A’nala says they’re running the last wild dragon out of town. I think we’re safe.”

“Katerina!” a familiar shout echoes in the town square.

Daeja and I turn back to the bunker where Marge emerges. A little at a time, more and more people spill out of the bunker, scanning the skies.

Marge’s eyes widen, pointing at something in the distance.

I follow her stare. Massive flames stretch into the sky, engulfing buildings and razing several of them down to the foundations.

A wooden beam falls, swinging across the street and slamming into the base of another building, transferring the fire to more homes and shops across the road.

As the townspeople cry out, witnessing the rapidly spreading fire, I spin around and find every direction bursting with flames. And not just any flames—dragonfire.

“A’nala and the others are going to evacuate people. She’s saying we need to head south out of town—it’s the path of least flames,” Daeja rumbles. “But we need to go now, before it cuts off the path and we’re trapped.”

Godsdamnit. We might have chased off the wild dragons…but this is different. We can’t ask for the flames to recede. To spare these people who built their entire lives here. Where generations grew and died. Where memories lived and breathed.

In the distance, where flames meld with the buildings, a shadow flickers within the blaze.

The startled shouts of the crowd behind me fade away, until the only thing surrounding me is the sluggish, painful pulse of my heart.

The sporadic dance of flames slows as that shadow of a person turns sideways.

It’s her.

I can’t make out the details of her clothes, nor her expression.

But I know it’s her all the same. And hanging from her hand is the small doll I know has a tear in its arm.

The very one I buried back in Arterias. She takes one small step.

Then two. Until she disappears out of view and into the burning city.

As soon as she’s gone, alarmed cries and murmurs snap into the background around me. As I swing my attention over to Marge, she’s already watching me. Her eyes say it all. So, what are you going to do?

A new group races down a street and spills into the town’s center with Archie, Melaina, Gavin, Nolan, and the Arterians. I recognize Cole at the head. His gaze sweeps to Daeja before he finds me.

“Everyone retreat to the south!” he calls out across the chaos. Something about the calm determination on his face convinces the crowd, and they follow his lead as he points down a specific street. He pats people on the back, ushering them to go. “Stay calm, but move fast.”

The throng of townspeople shift and sway as they all move toward the street Cole suggested.

Marge squeezes my shoulder before hobbling over to join the rest of the crowd, Archie leading her away.

I watch them go, creeping fear and self-doubt racing through me.

Daeja stands next to me, her wings still stretched and ready for the moment we need to fly, but her attention focuses on the townspeople disappearing into the distance.

Even if they all survive, they’ll have nowhere to go. And in the thick of winter? It could be an even more painful death than dragons. And a slower one.

This is up to me.

I can do it.

Dipping my head to stare at the ground beneath my boots, I drop down to a knee on the street.

I press my left hand to the stones. With all the pleading I can summon, I beg for that magic to come to me.

Trying to pull the pulsing energy from the fire surrounding me.

But each teasing flick of the unseen magic beyond my vision taunts me.

Gods, I swear I almost sense it laughing at me.

A heat crowds my body and sweat trickles down my neck and back. But the flames around me don’t falter. When I pull my hand off the stone, my handprint leaves a wet mark on the ground.

It’s not working.

I slap my palm to the street again, gritting my teeth as I attempt to suck the magic surrounding me to my hand. But that spine-tingling sense of magic doesn’t flood my veins like it should.

Still. Not. Working.

“Fuck!” I cry out, as the precious seconds tick by. Ripping my hand off the ground, I look up at the buildings around me engulfed in an ever-growing flame. It bleeds over to the buildings lining the pathway Cole suggested the townspeople take south.

No…no!

More homes burst into flames. I push up to my feet, standing to face the raging fire. My hands tremble. The screams of that little girl back in Hornwood resurface, along with the distant chanting of a nightmare.

Fire incarnate.

Flame in flesh.

Blood of power.

I failed. What good am I if I’m destined to save this realm? To save these people? My thoughts begin to spiral into something dark. Into an unclimbable pit?—