Page 31

Andor

One minute I think that Brynla is going to leave me to a grisly fate.

I see her standing there, watching me in both horror and confliction, and I can almost see her being pulled in the opposite direction. Lemi, bless that hound, is barking, running toward me and the blooddrages as they scratch and claw at me, trying to bite at any exposed skin.

But a different fear strikes in my heart, greater than the fear of being maimed or even death.

The fear that she’s going to leave me here without a second thought.

And that she’ll never think of me again.

Then she starts running for me, full speed, swords out, and just seeing her coming for me gives me enough strength to straighten up.

With a roar, I shake off as many of the dragons as I can, though one has thoroughly attached itself to my head.

I grind my teeth against the pain of his claws as he scratches at my cheek, dangerously close to my eye, his mouth trying to bite my neck.

But then Lemi leaps up, grabbing the blooddrage by the tail and pulling him back off my head, which unfortunately makes the dragon dig his claws in deeper until warm blood flows down my cheeks.

I growl, whipping my dagger backward, hoping to stab him and the one that’s crawling up my chest, just as I see Brynla wave her swords around. She doesn’t seem so hesitant to kill them now and starts hacking away at the ones closest to her, her eyes fierce and her jaw set in grim determination.

The other dragons suddenly release me and fly off, as if Brynla has terrified them, leaving the three of us with a couple of dead blooddrages at our feet.

“You’re bleeding,” she says to me, her chest heaving from exertion.

“I’ll live,” I tell her, wiping away the blood. “We should start heading back. I don’t know what you did to make those dragons fly away, but they might come back with even more reinforcements next time.”

She nods and opens her pouch, peering inside. “So far none of them have cracked. I can grab a couple more.”

She goes to the next nest and starts grabbing the shiny eggs and popping them into her pouch. I look around to see the damage. Most of my eggs are broken but I can at least extract the suen.

I crouch down and take out the extractor, making quick work of the mess.

“Uh, Andor,” Brynla says. “We have a problem.”

Fuck, what now?

I get up, the wind buffeting me in the face, smelling of sulfur. Toward the volcanoes where the valley opens up, fire starts to lick around the ground, swirling up and up toward the sky.

“Fire tornadoes,” I say gruffly.

She eyes me over her shoulder, and though she looks worried, there’s also a hint of I told you so in her gaze.

“We should start running,” she says, snapping her pouch shut and putting her swords back in the sheaths at her back.

Though I shouldn’t, though there are far more pressing things to think about, the sight of her standing in Kolbeck-crested armor, with the wind whipping her lavender hair free from her bun, and the fire tornado burning and spinning in the background, I feel momentarily dumbstruck.

Awed. Like I’m seeing an actual goddess come to life, and my first instinct is to get down and kneel.

“ Andor ,” she says, her voice sharp now, bringing me out of my momentary lapse in reality as she runs to me and tugs at my arm. “Now!”

I nod, feeling strangely dizzy, and I turn, running quickly along the valley floor toward the narrow entrance that feels more far away than I remember. I hold back enough to keep pace with Brynla, not wanting to leave her behind in the dust if I apply my full speed.

We’re only a few yards from the exit out of the valley when suddenly the air pressure changes and the sky rumbles with thunder, shaking the ground beneath us, enough that Brynla nearly falls and I grab her arm to hold her up.

Flames ten feet high appear at our only way out, making us skid to a stop. From above, the dark, ashy clouds reach down like a spiraling hand, and I watch in a mix of dread and fascination as the spiral and the fire connect.

In seconds the fire roars, whipping up high and fast, racing up to the sky, the heat blasting my face.

“Fuck!” I cry out, grabbing Brynla’s hand to make sure I don’t lose her and whirling around to see that the fire tornado that we were originally running from has spread into three, swirling across the valley floor to greet us.

I look up the sides of the rift to see which one will be easiest to climb, only to notice the mass of dust, miles high and wide, coming from the east, lightning flashing sporadically.

“Sandstorm,” Brynla says grimly.

There isn’t much time to think.

“The caves,” I tell her. “We have to run for the caves!”

Brynla’s fear-widened eyes look over to them. They seem so far away right now. I don’t know how we’re going to outrun fire tornadoes coming from either direction, or a massive sandstorm, but we’re going to have to try.

“Lemi!” Brynla shouts at him. “Go back to the ship. Shift back to the ship and stay there. Wait for us to return.”

Lemi barks but Brynla yells back. “Go, Lemi! To the ship. Now!”

His ears flatten, a sad look on his face, and then he disappears into thin air.

Still holding on to her arm, I start running as fast as she can keep up, pulling her along.

The heat from the tornadoes is coming from both sides of us now, the wind whipping us into each other as we run.

The roar is getting louder, covering up the sound of the pumice rock crunching underfoot, the harsh sound of our breathing.

I dare to look behind me and all I see is flames.

I glance at Brynla and she holds my gaze for a moment.

“You can make it if you let me go,” she manages to say, her voice barely heard above the din.

I just shake my head.

Never.

We keep running until we hit the slope that leads up to the ridge of caves.

I have to let go of her, needing both my hands to climb up the loose scree and sand, sliding backward a few times until I finally reach the hard ridge and get to my feet, reaching down and pulling Brynla up the rest of the way.

The fire tornadoes meet each other below us, combining into a supersize one, just as the sandstorm is almost upon them. One would hope the storm would put the fire out, but before it does it’s going to push a wall of flames out of the valley floor and right into us.

I pull Brynla along and into the nearest cave, the opening narrow, barely wide enough for us to fit through. I guide her in first, then come after and push her down to the ground, my body going over hers just as flames surge outside, shooting inside the cave above our heads.

Brynla screams and I keep her covered, the flames licking inside, though we’re both protected by our fire-resistant armor. I hold her tight; I don’t even think that I’m breathing, I’m just praying to the goddesses and waiting to survive.

But then the heat withdraws and in its place comes sand.

I get off Brynla and crawl forward, trying to seek more shelter. The cave opens up a little and hooks around the corner. I know there’s a chance that sycledrages could be nesting in here, but they would have attacked us by now.

“This way!” I yell at her, trying not to get a mouthful of sand. I wait until she crawls beside me, then pull her over to the side so we’re both sitting against the wall, out of the wind and sand that blow past, swirling and gathering in the unseen depths of the cave.

“Are you all right?” I ask her, keeping my voice loud enough to be heard against the infernal roar of the sandstorm.

She nods. “Yeah. Just a little sore but I’m okay. I think the eggs are crushed.”

“Better them than you,” I tell her. “I’ll see what I can salvage when this storm dies down.”

“How long do they usually last? I’ve never been through one.”

“Can take days,” I tell her.

The light in the cave is dim and I can barely make out the furrow between her brows.

But you’ve packed enough for that, haven’t you? I think. I keep that observation to myself, for now.

“I’m sure it won’t last long,” I tell her. “I just wish you had the same ability as your dog, so both of you could have been sent to safety.”

“I wouldn’t leave you,” she says.

I don’t say anything to that.

Instead I look around the corner, shielding my eyes from the incoming sand.

There’s faint flickering at the mouth of the cave, and I get on my knees and crawl over to it, keeping my head down.

There are a few fragments of burning branches tossed in by the storm, threatening to go out.

I snatch one up and crawl back over to Brynla.

“What are you doing?” she asks, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Never know when a fire will come in handy,” I tell her. “One that you can control, of course.”

I reach into my pack and bring out a small piece of fireflame bark that comes from trees grown in Vesland.

I stick the piece into a hole in the porous cave floor and light it with the fire, then toss the branch to the side, where it’s immediately blown away and put out by the wind.

But the fireflame stays lit, a steady glow that gives off a lot of heat considering how small the flames are.

Satisfied that it won’t go out—that small piece of bark should stay lit for days—I look back at Brynla.

But her face is contorted in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving closer to her, placing my hand on her knee.

She twitches her knee out of my grasp and I notice the way she’s clutching her stomach.

“Is it your pains?” I ask. “Did you bring any of the poppy resin?” I grab my pack and start rummaging through it. I know I should have brought some with me.

She lets out a gasp and nods. “I did,” she says, her words coming out staccato. “But it’s not helping. If I take too much, I’ll be unconscious.”

I put the bag down, wanting to help, needing to help.

“When did it start? Just now?”

Her eyes are pinched closed as she shakes her head. “No. On the ship.”