Reckoning (Book 5) (10 page)

Bastian burst into the sky as fast as his wings could take him, leading the first wave of dragons. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Fire burbled in the back of his throat. Bastian held back. He didn't know yet what awaited him in that unnatural cloud.

As he sped closer, the strange black cloud began to take a more ominous shape. It was composed of individual, skeletal bodies that were charred black, with wings protruding from their crooked spines, swords and shields grasped in their hands.

Bastian took a deep breath, then slowed down. The other dragons fell in behind him. Rushing at the shields at full speed would knock some of the winged skeletons out of the sky, but would also give the skeletons a chance to drive their swords through the dragon's scales. Bastian flapped his wings, holding in his position instead of attacking.

The cloud slowed, seemingly cautious as well.

The sky vibrated with anticipation. Someone would have to attack first.

A howl tore through the tension, and the skeletons attacked.

Breaking from their formation, the skeletons scattered. They looked disorganized, but Bastian had a feeling it was a well-planned maneuver. He and the other dragons banded together in a circle, their armor facing out toward the horde of skeletons. They held tight, bracing themselves against the coming onslaught.

The skeletons slammed into the dragons’ reinforced circle, rebounding off their armor and falling back onto their own. The skeletons scrambled to regroup as the dragons attacked.

Bastian blew fire, but it did nothing to the skeletons. The blank eyes of a skeleton mocked Bastian, its jaws clacking together in laughter. It swiped with a bony arm, its sword grazing Bastian's scales.

He roared in anger. If fire wouldn't work, then brute force would. Bastian slammed into the skeleton with all his might. Its bones splintered and cracked, but still it fought on. Bastian snatched its wings with his teeth, shaking until the wings tore off and the skeleton fell to the ground, its bones scattering. He waited a moment. It didn't move. Good. It was dead.

Bastian flew back into the fray, attacking in a frenzy, taking down skeleton after skeleton. The other dragons fought just as fiercely until the sky no longer held any winged skeletons. The ground was littered with their bones.

The dragons descended to the grass. Bastian changed into his human form. His armor, as well as that of Jakob and Blythe, was picked up in the talons of three of the retreating dragons. Bastian kicked the bones of the skeletons. He leaned over and hefted the sword of one in his hand. It was light, too light to do much damage.

"What do you make of this?" he asked as he sauntered over to Jakob, who was also puzzling over the dead battalion.

"These swords never would have hurt us," Jakob said. "I don't see any injured dragons. So what was their purpose?"

Blythe brushed dirt from her dress as she stepped over the bones on her way to them. "Did we kill all of them? Were there any that got away?"

Jakob shook his head. "Not that I saw. You?"

Bastian also hadn't seen any escape. "We would have given chase. This is all that's left of them."

"We do not have the manpower to bury all of them," Blythe said. "We'll exhaust ourselves if we try. It's too big of a job. We'll have to leave them."

"Why send them after us at all? If it is a test, there are none left to report back. All they've done is annoy us." Bastian picked up a skull and looked deep into the empty eye sockets. "It's not intelligent. There is nothing to guide its actions."

"It is a mystery we simply can't solve right now," Jakob said. "I think we ought to get back to the Outpost and make sure our people are still leaving as they're supposed to. Their safety is the most important thing right now. We can't sit out here in a field filled with bones all day."

Jakob and Blythe took the sky before Bastian could even answer, heading back toward the Outpost.

Bastian stood alone surrounded by the bones of the little army that had attacked them. He still couldn't shake the feeling they were missing something. Bastian looked at the skull again hoping for answers, but none came.

He changed into his dragon, grabbed the skull by its eye sockets with his talons, and took off after the rest of the Green dragons. When he arrived in town, he quickly changed again, hiding the skull under his cloak. He hurried to the cottage they'd given him, closing the door behind him. He sat on the straw-filled bed and pulled the skull out.

"What do you have to tell me?" he asked it.

There was no response.

The smooth bone had been polished to a shine. What could a bunch of bones tell them? Were they sent to mock the dragons? To test their skill in battle? Did their enemy really think these pathetic skeletons with their flimsy swords could do damage to the dragons?

Bastian tossed it onto his bed, irritated. He wanted answers. He didn't want to fight an enemy with no knowledge of it beforehand. He'd wasted his morning, but at least the other Greens were flying away from the Dragonlands, searching for the fabled land over the sea that would offer them safety.

There were still too many in the Dragonlands who didn't know escape was possible. Who would help them? Yes, Bastian had done his job in saving the children of Hutton's Bridge. He'd kept true to his people and seen them to safety. But there was still one of his people who remained in the Dragonlands, and Bastian wasn't sure he could ever leave without her.

Connor landed in the Charred Barrens on the far side of a dead forest. He had only been there once before, when he’d taken Tressa back to them after destroying the Red Castle. While that trip had been made on adrenaline, this journey had been uneventful. He'd skirted the Sands’ eastern borders, then flown back to the west, finally coming to the land that was so aptly described by its name.

Though the great fire of the Charred Barrens was little more than legend, it appeared freshly scorched. A faint scent of soot hung in the gentle breeze, giving it the air of a land recently deceased and filled with the ghosts. Tressa had assured Connor the Charred Barrens were perfectly harmless, that the illusion was maintained to deter others from entering their land.

Even Sophia had promised him that if he ever needed anything, all he needed to do was fly over the forest. He would be found and escorted to their city. Connor held back a snort. City? This place was dead. There was no city.

Out of nowhere, a Black dragon burst from the dead forest, circled around Connor twice, and flew down again. Connor followed it, weaving a path through the trees. Cleverly hidden by the upper branches, the Black had forged a tunnel through the dead forest, leading to a hole in the ground. Above, the trees bent toward each other, forming a tight canopy of dead trees, so twisted and gnarled no one could see through.

Connor raced down a dark cave tunnel after the Black dragon until they emerged in a cavern filled with tall buildings and bustling people. The two dragons landed on the ground and quickly changed into their human forms.

"Welcome, Connor," the other man said, holding out a hand.

Connor shook it. "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I don't know your name."

"I'm Joel. I am a scout in the Black army, sent to watch for any who might fly over our land. I saw you approaching and asked for permission to escort you here."

"So they already know I'm coming? That's wonderful news," Connor said.

"Welcome," a familiar voice said behind him.

Connor turned with a smile on his face. "Sophia." He kissed the woman on her cheek. "I came here seeking your assistance. Perhaps since you are underground, you aren't aware what is happening above."

Sophia's smile was hesitant. "We should speak in private. Come with me." She rested a hand on Connor's elbow, guiding him through the crowded city.

They walked in silence, entering a great castle studded with sparkling gems. Connor followed her down gilded halls until they came to a room guarded by three sentries. They nodded at Sophia, then opened the doors.

Connor spied a man sitting in a chair, his nose in a book. The door closed abruptly behind them with a resounding boom.

Connor looked at Sophia and back to the man, who did not look up. He cleared his throat, then opened with his appeal. "Days ago, the moon turned red, and the sky rained with blood. The Green in the Meadowlands fear the Dragonlands are about to be beset by a terrible army. They have been turning all of their people into dragons for years, as you know. It was to prepare for this war. They are sending their people over the sea to the west, attempting to find a new land to live in." Connor paused, waiting for a reaction. Sophia only stared at him. The man with the book ignored them both.

Connor took a deep breath and continued. "My wife and children should already be gone by now. Some of the Green stayed behind to protect the Meadowlands until they receive word that their loved ones have reached a new land. Then they are to follow, leaving the Dragonlands forever. Sophia, we need your help in fighting this enemy. We have to make our homeland safe again. I want to bring my wife and children back and raise them here. Please, will you consider speaking to Mestifito about this?"

"I don't need to," Sophia said. "We already know all of this."

Connor's jaw dropped. They knew? Then why were they hiding underground? He had to force himself not to ask. Instead, he would wait for her to explain herself. Connor looked to the man in the corner again. He hadn't shown a bit of interest in what Connor had to say. How could anyone sit by and hear his news without a reaction?

"We cannot defeat him." The man put his book down on the side table. "It is good that the Green are leaving. Perhaps we should suggest the same to those living in the Yellow? They have fine ships. It's possible they've been to these other lands and can smooth the way for our refugees?"

Sophia nodded, her eyes sad. "I will speak with Destrian, then. I'm sure he'd like to get home to the Sands and his people. We've held him here for far too long, as well as Jarrett’s brother, Avital. It’s time we set them free."

"Wait." Connor put a hand on Sophia's arm. He'd never known Tressa's great-grandmother to run from a fight. “Is there something I don’t know?"

Sophia looked to the man, who sighed and rose from his chair.

"I don't think we've met," Connor said, holding out his hand.

The man didn't take it, and Connor slowly lowered his arm.

"We have met. You just don't recognize me. I'm Mestifito. The mighty dragon is nothing but a man. I am now human, like you once were, Connor. My dragon has been stolen from me by a man who cannot be defeated. There is no point in fighting, unless you want to die."

Connor winced. The great Black dragon who had led their people to victory over the Red was now just a man. "How?"

"My brother stole my dragon from me. It is his turn to have it now. Despite all of my efforts to keep it from him, I couldn't. I thought building an underground fortress would protect me. It appears he didn't even need to be near me to steal it. His magic is stronger than mine. It always has been. I was foolish to think I could keep the dragon from him." Mestifito's eyes bore into Connor's. "You are a fool if you think you can fight him and win."

Speechless, Connor looked to Sophia. Just because her mate had given up, didn't mean she had to. Her shoulders were rounded and her eyes trained on the stone floor. The frail figure before him stood in stark contrast to the proud woman Connor knew as a child. "Are you going to let him tell you to give up?"

Sophia didn't respond. Mestifito sat down on his chair, picking up his book again.

"Who is your brother?" Connor asked him.

The resigned man who used to be a proud dragon didn't look up from his book. "Donovan."

"The man Tressa went to Desolation with?" Connor threw his arms up in exasperation. "Where is Tressa? I want to talk to her."

"You haven't seen her?" Finally, Sophia showed some kind of emotion. Though alarm wasn’t what he’d wanted. "She left here and headed for Hutton's Bridge. I assumed she was with you."

"No," Connor answered, now worried, too. "I haven't seen her at all. We abandoned Hutton's Bridge after the blood moon. I wasn't looking for her as I flew here, but I didn't see anyone on the ground. The Dragonlands have been quiet since the sky turned on us. I imagine most are huddled in their homes, unsure of what is coming."

Sophia grabbed Connor's hands and looked imploringly into his eyes. "Please find my great-granddaughter. You know how foolhardy she is. She thinks she can save everyone by taking on the world. You must stop her. It's for her own good. Take her across the sea, too. Even if she fights you, make her do it." Tears hovered at the corner of Sophia's eyes.

Connor's stomach turned. If Donovan was evil enough to reduce this brave woman to a beggar, then did any of them stand a chance? If the Black gave up, what hope was there for the rest of the Dragonlands?

Fi clung to the horse’s mane, her hair whipping her cheeks. Jarrett rode in front of her. Not because his steed was faster, but because she wanted to keep an eye on him. Even though they'd gotten away, it felt too easy. She didn't know why Donovan would simply let them go when he'd worked so hard to keep them contained.

So she followed Jarrett, quietly. The farther they got away from Donovan, the more he seemed like his old self. Jarrett wasn't just smiling. He was laughing and cracking jokes. He sat tall on his horse. The hunch he'd developed during his servitude had melted away. His furtive glances changed to solid eye contact.

Every moment of every day, Fi searched inside herself for her dragon. If Tressa's had come back, then why not hers? Her goal was to find some dragon blood. She needed to know if she could re-awaken it, though she was afraid. What if the dragon didn't ever come back? What would she be then? Useless, set aside to care for the children of others while they fought the battles? She had never trained in combat, feeling it was unnecessary. Fi was a dragon by birth. It never occurred to her she would need to learn to fight in her human form.

Jarrett pulled up behind a hedge. He waved Fi closer. She guided her horse to his side.

"I see something up ahead. Do you?" Jarrett pointed to the west. "I can't tell what it is."

Fi squinted. "It looks like an army." She could barely make out a mass of people with gray, hooded cloaks riding on horseback. "Who are they?"

"I don't know," Jarrett said. "In all of my travels, I haven't come across a group that dresses like that. They aren't from the Sands, unless fashion has changed greatly since I've left."

"They aren't from the Black, either," Fi said. "We don’t just live underground, we guard our privacy very closely. We would never ride so openly in such numbers."

"They're coming from the wrong direction to be from the Meadowlands or the Drowned Country." Jarrett's horse whinnied. "Shhh. It's okay."

"What should we do?" Fi was glad they were hidden behind the hedge. She didn't want to be spotted quite yet.

"I think we should get closer and figure out who they are," Jarrett said. "Obviously if it's a host of Donovan's, we want to stay far away."

"But if they're friendly..." Fi wanted it to be true, but it seemed so unlikely. She and Jarrett knew the people of the Dragonlands well enough to know this group wasn't native. The only interlopers were the army Donovan was raising. If this was another group of his, she and Jarrett needed to stay far away.

"They look human, though. Not like demons." Jarrett looked Fi in the eyes. "I think we should get closer."

"They'll see us on our horses." Fi fought the fear building inside her. She didn't want to be captured again.

"Then we’ll leave our horses here. We can tie them to the main stem of a bush. We can sneak closer if we are on foot. There are plenty of bushes between us and them. If we stay low to the ground, hidden in the grass, then we can observe them more closely. We'll determine what to do from there."

"Okay," Fi said. She dismounted and tied the reins to the stem of a bush. She patted the horse's mane and cooed in its ear. "We'll be back soon."

Jarrett secured his horse. "Ready?" he asked Fi.

She nodded. "You take the lead. I'll follow." Fi wanted to stay between Jarrett and the horses. If he was lying, leading her into a trap, she wanted a chance to get away.

Jarrett sank down to the grass, crawling toward the group on horseback. Fi followed as quietly as she could in the awkward position. As they got closer, Jarrett lay on his stomach, Fi mirrored him. On knees and elbows they slithered closer to the group until Fi could make out some of their words. They had stopped just short of a creek.

"How much farther?" a man asked.

"I'm not sure," a woman replied. "In our time, there was a village close by, but I believe it's gone now. So much has changed. I'm not sure of anything other than our mission."

Fi wished they'd be more specific. It was impossible to tell if they were good or evil. One thing was certain. They were not from the Dragonlands. They had strange accents, thick and gnarly, as if they spoke with a hunk of bread in their mouths. It was unlike any speech she'd heard before.

A few moments of silence followed as the riders went about filling their water skins.

Fi closed her eyes, tired of staring at the blades of grass. There was little else to do while she waited other than breathe easily. It was the first chance she’d had since their escape.

Fi's eyes snapped open, only to see Jarrett being dragged away by a man in a gray cloak. She leapt to her feet, not sure how to fight the man, or even if she wanted to. It might be better to run. Before she could make a decision, a woman in a gray cloak jumped from the side, knocking Fi to the ground. Her chin hit the earth with an alarming jolt, knocking her silly.

Arms wound under Fi's armpits, dragging her alongside Jarrett. Fi’s boots cut ruts into the ground. She wouldn't make this easy for them, even if she couldn't fight back.

"We found these two spying on us in the grass," the woman called out.

"Bring them here," a man with a deep voice said.

Fi blinked a few times, beginning to feel more like herself. Still, she didn't have the training or will to fight against them. The group was too large. She could never fight her way out as a human.

A loud gasp was followed by a squeal. "Fi!"

She perked up, looking around frantically. "Tressa?" Hope rose in her chest. It couldn't be. Could it? Her best friend here, with these people?

"Fi!" Tressa stepped in front of her. "I'm so sorry you were hurt. They didn't know if you were friendly or not. I can't believe it's you! I feared you were dead!"

The woman released her grip on Fi, so she stood, shakily, on her own for only a moment. Tressa pulled her into a hug. Fi closed her eyes and let out a breath she felt like she'd been holding for months. "I worried the same about you."

"We're both alive. And you found me! It's amazing!" Tressa pushed Fi back and took a good look at her. "But you're injured. Who did this to you?" Tressa let go of her friend and turned toward Jarrett. "Pull the hood off this man."

"Tressa," Fi started, but it was too late.

Tressa's hand flew to her mouth. "Jarrett?" She looked back at Fi. "Did he do this to you?"

Fi shook her head. "No, it was Donovan. He’s also the Keeper. The same one who holds Jarrett in his power."

Tressa's eyes narrowed, and her face darkened. "Another reason to kill him."

The three stood in silence, looking at each other. Jarrett didn't say a word, and Fi didn't blame him. There was nothing he could say to make up for everything he'd done to Tressa and her friends.

"Tie him up," Tressa said, pointing at Jarrett. "He's dangerous."

Jarrett held out his hands, his wrists together. "I'm sorry, Tressa. I didn't mean any of it. Donovan held me under his spell. Now that I'm away from him, I'm better."

"Your connection isn't broken, is it?" Tressa asked.

A tall man covered in tattoos bound Jarrett. Tressa visibly relaxed.

"No," Jarrett said. "I wish I could say it was, but it isn't. The closer I am to him, the worse it is. I can control myself. For now. I can't promise anything, nor do I blame you for wanting me bound. It's best for everyone. I'm just thrilled Fi and I found you. Neither of us recognized these people with you."

"I think, for now, you will stay in the dark," Tressa said. "If you can't be fully trusted, then you mustn't know who they are." She nodded to the tattooed man. "Take him away, and let no one speak around him."

Jarrett didn't resist as the man led him away.

"Tressa, I missed you so much. I hoped you were alive, but I didn't know." Fi said, tears glistening in her eyes.

"And I thought you were dead for a very long time. Once I heard Donovan was likely still alive, I hoped I'd see you again, too." Tressa rested her hands on Fi's shoulders. "Tell me, are you okay? Does Donovan have a hold over you, too?"

"No," Fi said, as strong as she could. "He does not. I don't know why, but he didn't take control over me." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I know this may seem strange, but are you still able to change into a dragon? I need dragon blood as soon as possible. I still haven't been able to change. I miss it... I need it. Please."

Tressa's gaze fell. "I'm sorry. My dragon is gone, as well. I drank blood daily for months, and it hasn't come back. Donovan's leeches appear to have completely drained it from me."

Fi felt a heavy weight settle in her chest. She had been nurturing a spark of hope that her dragon would return someday. Perhaps it had been a futile dream.

"Just because mine won't come, it doesn't mean yours is gone for good." Tressa rested her hand under Fi's chin, forcing her to look up. "We will find a dragon, and you will drink its blood. Until then, let's assume it will work."

Fi nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. Somewhere deep inside, she knew the dragon was gone. Tressa's inability to regain hers only confirmed Fi's worst fear.