Page 8

Andor

I don’t expect the lavender girl to take the news of her kidnapping well.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she says, her brown eyes narrowing at me, ready to fight. “And neither is my dog. Lemi, come.”

The big dog gives a little whine and reluctantly leaves my side. Loyal to a fault. If only it were so with humans.

The hound trots over to her and I watch them walk away for a beat before stealing a glance at the dragon. Time is ticking. The beast will wake soon, and I should collect that last egg while I can.

Then again, I can’t let the lavender girl go either.

I’ve been working on this plan for the last five moon cycles, and she’s the whole reason I’m on this side of the Midlands.

Her and her dog. My father will be thrilled to know we have a suen-sniffer.

Might even tell me I did a good job, though I won’t hold my breath.

I have to make a decision and fast. She won’t get away, I made sure of that when I hired Tromson, but dealing with the egg will be too cumbersome, especially if she puts up a fight.

Despite her reputation in the Banished Land as a top thief, I have yet to see her fighting skills.

I have a feeling she’ll make me work for it.

I stride over to the crater and drop down into it, swiping the sharp hollow sapper out from my boot and plunging it into the bottom of the egg.

By the time the slippery red suen starts to drip, I’ve got a container underneath, collecting the resource.

I glance up at the dragon again and then the girl, who is just about to disappear over the horizon, half-swallowed by the billowing smoke.

I wonder if her dog will sniff out another nest or if she’s going to head back to Tromson at the boat.

Seems such a fucking waste to leave the egg behind like this, especially when I’ll only be able to tap a portion of it.

My uncle’s recent words to my father ring in my head: What’s the point of sending Andor anymore when the raid always turns into a fool’s errand?

I swallow down the bitterness and force myself to focus just as the girl and her dog pass out of sight and the dragon begins to stir, moving its legs slowly, its long claws scratching loudly over the black aerated rock.

I don’t have enough of the poison left for another arrow—I need to leave.

I quickly seal the container and remove the sapper from the egg.

Then I climb out of the crater and run toward the shore after the girl.

The dragon growls and the ground trembles as I feel it get to its feet. I pick up the pace, with my cloak flowing behind me, glancing over my shoulder to see the beast shaking its wings out. In seconds it will be airborne. I wish the poison didn’t leave the system so quickly.

I make a mental note for Steiner to adjust the formula and I keep pumping my legs until I see the girl again, this time in another crater, busy gathering smaller blooddrage eggs, the dog watching her work intently.

“Hide!” I holler at her, my speed increasing. “She’s awake!”

The lavender girl stares at me with her large dark eyes, unsure what to do for a moment, then yells at her dog. “Lemi! Go to the boat. To the boat!”

The dog looks reluctant until she yells “Go!” again.

And then he disappears into thin air.

Fucking fascinating. I’ve seen him shift before but never so close. There’s no time to marvel over it, though.

In seconds I’m launching myself into the air until I’m pushing the girl to the ground, covering her with my cloak.

She lets out a whimper of pain from the impact, but her armor should protect her from the worst of it, as shoddy and threadbare as it is.

“Shhh,” I whisper harshly into her ear as I press her down into the crater, hearing the sickly sound of eggs cracking beneath us as I do so. “Don’t move. I won’t be able to save you again.”

“I never asked you to save me the first time,” she grumbles.

I slip my hand under her face until it covers her mouth, making sure she really shuts up, just as the steady beat of dragon wings fills the air.

I am not getting paid enough for this , I can’t help but think.

Truth is, I’m not really getting paid at all.

It’s my duty as a Kolbeck, more than anything, and I’m the only one even remotely suited for these expeditions.

Steiner would spend his time trying to catalog the flora and fauna of the islands, Solla would find a cave and never come out, Vidar would find someone else to do the dirty work, and my uncle Kjell would try to fight a dragon and fail miserably.

Only my father would stand a chance at doing this job.

He’d also be the first to throw me in the line of fire if it meant his escape.

The dragon lets out another cry, a breeze coming off the powerful wings, stirring up the fine black sand gathered in the crevices.

I hear the sound of it expelling fire close by, feel the heat as the flames warm our back.

It shouldn’t see us, not with my cloak covering us both up.

It was designed by Steiner to mimic the surroundings, completely camouflaging us, as well as protecting us from any fire blasts.

I hold my breath and wait. I can feel Brynla’s heartbeat through her back, the stiffness of her muscles as she keeps still.

The cloak works. The dragon keeps flying onward, then turns back to her nest again. With her back to us, we can make it over the ridge where we’ll be hidden. She won’t be a happy dragon when she discovers that both her eggs have been destroyed, but thankfully they weren’t fertile anyway.

I stand and grab the girl’s arm, yanking her up beside me.

“Ow!” She scowls at me, trying to get out of my grasp.

Up close her features are an intriguing mix of youth and hardness.

Her eyes hold a world of pain and anger in them, her mouth and jaw set in the same tense way.

But her full pink cheeks and lips, her smooth sun-kissed skin, and the way her lavender hair is braided in coils at the back of her neck make her look youthful.

She’s tall and broad shouldered, strong in her stance, but has full breasts and wide hips, thick thighs and a round stomach. She looks healthy and strong.

She gives me another sharp look, this one telling me to stop staring at her.

“We need to get behind the ridge before the dragon looks back,” I say, keeping my voice low. I keep ahold of her arm and haul her up and out of the crater like she weighs nothing at all. She grumbles the whole way, swearing under her breath.

“So what they say about you is true,” she says.

“And what’s that?”

“All the syndikats use suen.” She says this derisively, as if she doesn’t partake in the magic herself. “I hadn’t seen a thief in action before.”

“And suen doesn’t do that for you?” I counter, pulling her forward until we’re over the bony ridge and out of sight of the dragon.

Everyone who ingests the suen from dragon eggs has their natural abilities amplified.

I was born with a natural strength and agility, and suen in turn gives me preternatural strength.

My youngest brother, who was nothing short of a genius as a child, now has a brain unlike anyone I know.

Sometimes I hear of people who get brand-new abilities that come from nowhere, but those people are few and far between.

Brynla, I would assume, also has natural strength that suen must magnify, even though she acts like she’s above its usage.

She doesn’t say anything, her fingers twitching at her sides. I know she wants to grab her swords. I’m half-inclined to let her. See what she’s made of. See if she knows how to listen.

I come to a stop, forcing her to halt too, my grip a vise around her elbow.

“Now that I’ve saved your life for a second time,” I tell her, leaning in, “perhaps you can do me the honor of listening to what I have to say.”

Her gaze goes over the wild shore where waves lap against the rock. The illumination from the volcanoes doesn’t extend as far here, and the dark horizon is swallowed by low charcoal clouds. Somewhere beyond that is Tromson on his boat and hopefully the dog.

“What do you want?” she asks stiffly, not looking at me.

“I need your help,” I tell her. “Most importantly, House Kolbeck needs your help. Your expertise.”

She frowns at me, her guard dropping for a moment. “Me? Who am I to you?”

“You’re Brynla Aihr,” I say, watching as her pupils shrink in surprise.

“Daughter of rebel leaders Branne and Sonja Aihr, now deceased. You reside with your aunt Ellestra Doon in the Dark City, living as a fugitive from the Black Guard and the Daughters of Silence, from which you escaped nearly a decade ago. And you’re one of the best thieves in the business.

” I pause. “Only problem is, you’re working for the wrong side. ”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “How…how do you know all that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” I admit. “Ever since the blue moon.”

She calculates how long that’s been. “That’s half a year,” she whispers, licking her lips. Then she gives her head a shake. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do,” I say, taking my hand off her arm.

“You and your dog are worth a lot of money, which is why the Sjef of House Dalgaard hired you. Don’t play dumb, I know your dog is what helps you find the eggs.

” She opens her mouth to say something, and I continue.

“I said I was watching you, didn’t I? House Kolbeck is no different than House Dalgaard in that aspect. We have spies everywhere.”

I might be exaggerating, just a little. Our spies consist of a white raven that Steiner knows how to communicate with, and Dagruna Bjarr, a woman with shape-shifting abilities who works for the king of Norland.

Brynla’s gaze turns hard as she meets my eyes. I can sense her muscles twitching, her fight-or-flight instincts rising. “What do you want?”

“I want you to work for House Kolbeck. We’ll pay you handsomely.”

She thinks that over for a moment. “You do know what would happen to me if I switched sides. Sjef Ruunon wouldn’t let me go easily, and if he learned I was working for House Kolbeck…”

“He’d kill you and your dog and your aunt,” I supply. “Or possibly keep your dog and kill the rest of you. I’m aware.”

“So then you understand why I won’t be working for you.”

I breathe in sharply, my adrenaline spiking in anticipation of what’s to come. I had prepared for this, but despite the chaos that seems to follow me wherever I go, I prefer it when things go smoothly.

“You’re declining?”

“I’m saying no,” she says with a raise of her chin.

“Then I have to insist.” I can’t help but smile at her defiance. “After all, you owe me for saving your life, twice now, and for saving the life of your dog.”

Brynla stiffens at that. “I owe you something in return, yes, but not this.”

“What is this ?”

“My freedom,” she says, her tone hard and final.

“Then I’m afraid you leave me no choice,” I tell her. I reach into my cloak and pull out a syclesaw, the polished dragon claw reflecting the dull light.

Her movements are fast. Both of the swords from her back are drawn and she’s in a warrior’s pose, her jaw set as sharp as the blades, her gaze focused.

“I am a Freelander,” she says boldly. “I will always have a choice.”

“And I’m a Norlander,” I tell her, moving the syclesaw over to my other hand and back again, rubbing the smooth claw under my thumb as I do.

“We also have a choice, as does Sorland, and Vesland, the rest of the wide world. All the more reason to get out of your goddess-forsaken realm. See how everyone else survives for a change. See how we live. Are you afraid you’ll like it? ”

She doesn’t move, her gaze continuing to hold me. Her eyes are so dark and determined. I know I’ll win, but I might not walk away unscathed.

“Or are you afraid you’re not worthy of a better life?” I add.

There. Something shifts in her eyes, just for a moment.

I hit a nerve.

I decide to switch tactics. “You really think your shoddy armor will last you over time? You think ash glass can stab through the hide of a deathdrage? I’ve been watching you, Brynla Aihr.

You’re one of the best, but you’re also the luckiest person I’ve ever come across.

I’ve never even seen a dragon get close to you until today, but look where that got you.

Had I not been there, you and your magic dog would be dead.

” I pause. “People say you’re a force to be reckoned with, that you can fight your fellow man, but after today, I’m not sure how you measure up against the dragons. ”

“I do just fine,” she practically growls, her grip on the swords’ hilts tightening. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Because of luck. But tonight, your luck has officially run out. Two botched raids and you almost died twice. If you come with me, we can give you your luck back. We can take your thieving to another level entirely. You’ll be unstoppable.

Perhaps one day finally get your revenge against the Soffers. Isn’t that what all Freelanders want?”

I let that last sentence dangle in the volcanic air.

She hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know you,” she eventually says. “And I sure as fuck don’t trust you.”

“Nor should you,” I admit, my brow rising at her language. “I don’t trust my family either. But I’ll repeat what I said earlier: you don’t have a choice.”

I put the syclesaw back in my other hand and her eyes go to it, taking in the sight.

I know she’s never seen a weapon like this either, crafted from the ten-inch curved claws of the sycledrage.

“If you don’t come with me tonight, you’ll be delivered right into the arms of the Black Guard and your own execution. ”

Her nostrils flare, fear finally sparking in her eyes. Just what I wanted to see.

“And so what?” she says, starting to slowly move around me in a circle, swords still drawn. “If the Dalgaards find out I went with you, it will be the same fate for me.”

“Except we can protect both you and your aunt,” I tell her. “We can get her out of the Dark City. So either you come with me right now and join our side, or you die the same way your father did, hanging from the gallows.”

She gives her head a small shake, eyes narrowing into something so cold I feel it in my chest. She’s a marvel, this one.

“There’s a third option that you’ve forgotten about,” she says quietly.

“And what’s that?”

“That I kill you.”

She grins. Sweet and deadly.

Then she’s at me faster than I can blink.