The world tilted. I closed my eyes and opened them again—the dragon remained, her mere size squeezing me with terror.
Release me.
Her voice came from near and far away. Or perhaps from deep inside me.
I staggered backward, wracked with the certainty that, if she came any closer, I would die. For several frantic seconds, I glanced to my right and left, to see if anyone else was there to witness what I hardly believed myself.
But it was only me … and the dragon.
She moved from the shadows, barely making a sound. A great head with hooded eyes and a long snout rested on a serpentine neck, slick with coppery scales and softened with long, dun-colored hair.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t swallow the dryness in my throat.
“Am I dreaming?” My words were broken pebbles.
You are awake, but I come to you in a dream, where no one else can see. Release me so I can leave my nest.
“But…” I didn’t know what to ask next.
A dragon will not come unbidden. Release me.
“How? Why?”
Spill your blood upon the ground that I may find you. Then release me.
I opened my mouth, but a violent trembling seized me, stealing my voice. I folded my arms tightly in an effort to steady myself. “But … why?”
Silence, profound and disappointing, met me. In the next heartbeat, she turned and vanished like mist. The shadows lifted, and the world around me felt real again, as though I had awakened from sleep.
I stared at the place where she had stood, my pulse rattling in my teeth, the cry of terror I’d never uttered threatening to choke me. Afraid to move, afraid to make a sound, I scanned the tree line, looking for any hint of movement. But there was none.
Releasing a long breath, I let my arms fall to my sides. Normal sounds encroached once more upon my ears—a bird’s call, the rise and fall of voices across the field.
The dragon’s words rang in my skull—Spill your blood upon the ground that I may find you. Finding me would mean finding everyone I was with. I imagined the panicked outcry from my unit, weapons drawn before I could stop them. Dragonbreath, wielded in self-defense, would surely melt the skin from their bodies where they stood. Or perhaps she would come at night, trampling our tents and crushing us into the damp earth while we slept.
I thought of Jasper’s strength, River’s kindness, Forest’s steadfastness. Did the dragon expect me to lead her here, putting everyone at such great risk?
There was no way I could do that.
I walked quickly to rejoin the others, balling my fists to control the trembling. I had about a hundred paces to shake the terror and make sure it didn’t show on my face.
No one would believe me if I told them I’d spoken to a dragon.
Forest waved my salted pork at me, and I made my way to his side, determined to act normal.
“I almost ate this,” he said, handing it to me.
“You would have lived to regret that.” I plopped beside him, my heart still racing.
“Now that we’re all together, it’s time to talk.” Jasper stood several paces from me; his glance told me he’d been waiting for me.
He sat on a flat rock, and the rest of us shifted so we could see and hear him easily around the crackling fire. I rested my forearms on my knees and locked my gaze on him, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder at the tree line.
“The first thing you need to know is that Tan Vey’s army outnumbers our own. Our main forces are on a mission to intercept them before they reach Ylanda City to the north, but there is little chance of stopping them. They want our farms, our storehouses, our avila fields. That’s what they’ve come for.”
The sinking of my stomach mirrored the silence that followed Jasper’s words.
“Why would they invade us for … crops?” Mandrake asked.
“For too long, we’ve had what they could never have,” Jasper said. “Avila can’t thrive in the north, and our land in general is more fertile than theirs.” He gauged our response before continuing. “The nomads, and particularly the M’loh tribe, value land over life. Nothing is safe in their path—no village, no farm, no unwitting child. They do not wish to conquer us in order to rule us. They wish to destroy us and take everything that is ours.”
“So there’s no hope.” Coast was more proficient with a sword than with words; I was surprised to hear him speak. His large hand was rolled into a fist and pressed against his chin, which was so prone to hair that he shaved morning and night.
“You are our hope,” Jasper said. “You’ve been chosen because of your skill as Neshu fighters and because you’ve shown me that you have the stamina required for this mission. Your main task will be to enter Ylanda City and remove the high king from his palace.”
It was hard not to exchange glances with anyone—it made no sense to remove the high king. Someone cleared his throat, and a loud snap from the fire made me jump.
“With due respect,” Mandrake said, “I don’t understand why the high king should be moved. Ylanda City is the safest fortress in our kingdom.”
“Its safety has been untested for ages, because Stonewall has kept our enemies out,” Jasper said. “And as I’ve already told you, we’re outnumbered. Tan Vey’s men will kill everyone in their path. That includes the high king and his family. If they die, Tan Vey will claim our kingdom and declare himself ruler.”
“An army without a king can still fight,” Mandrake said.
“An army without a king has no kingdom,” Dalen said. “The law says, ‘In the land stretching from the western mountains to the eastern sea, a kingdom with no ruler belongs to whoever claims it.’”
Sedge spat. “It’s a myth, not a law.”
“It’s a truth that’s older than Ylanda,” Jasper said. “If the high king and his family fall, our kingdom will belong to our conquerors. The Great God himself decrees it.” He sat taller. “We will save our king.”
“Why us?” Rock’s gentle voice belied his huge girth.
A moment of hesitancy flickered across Jasper’s face. “You are skilled Neshu fighters. Some of the best I’ve seen.”
“But we’re untested in battle,” Rock said. “Why choose us over more experienced men?”
“Our original Neshu unit was training near Stonewall when Tan Vey invaded. They were lost. Thirty of the kingdom’s finest Neshu fighters.” The heaviness of his words was reflected in his eyes. “Every other active soldier was needed on the battlefield.”
I didn’t know whether I felt large or small. Honored or terrified.
“But why us?” Forest pressed. “Why not choose Neshu fighters from the experienced soldiers in the next camp?” His gaze remained fixed on Jasper—a challenge.
“Because the Neshu has been trained right out of them.” Jasper crossed his arms. “Field combat isn’t anything like a Neshu round. You have to think like a unit, fight collectively. A Neshu warrior will always have more agility, quicker responses, but it’s the field training that makes a man into a soldier. It would take me twice as long to train an experienced unit for this mission—because I’d have to untrain them first.”
Forest nodded slowly; he seemed unconvinced. “We have what it takes, then.”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t.”
“Once we rescue the high king, where are we taking him?” Dalen asked.
“A secret place, hidden from the common man. In the age before the wall, the high king was always taken there when he needed protection.”
“Where?” Sedge asked.
“I’ll disclose that when the time comes,” Jasper said. “The reason I tested you on the ropes was because we may be required to climb over the city or palace wall, or both. We’ll use our time here to strengthen our upper bodies and sharpen our combat skills.”
“I still don’t understand why Tan Vey would focus on killing our high king, especially if his forces are as great as you say,” Cedar said. “Ancient law or not, defeating the high king’s army is the same as defeating the high king himself.”
“True,” Jasper said. “But Tan Vey and his nomads believe the ancient stories of the dragons and their loyalty to the kingdom of Ylanda.”
My heart tumbled within my breast and I twisted the fabric of my shirt in my fingers, waiting for him to say more. Feet shuffled and somebody coughed.
“I don’t pretend to understand those stories,” Jasper continued. “But it’s believed that Tan Vey thinks the dragons of Ylanda will switch their loyalty to him if he kills the high king.”
“There aren’t any dragons,” Sedge said.
“I know,” Jasper said. “But it matters little. If Tan Vey intends to kill the high king, it’s our job to make sure he doesn’t succeed.” He reached behind the rock and withdrew a pile of curled parchments. “These are crude maps of the region between here and the capital. Study them until the light has failed. Tomorrow we’ll get to work.”
I took a map and spread it on my lap, holding the edges down while I perused the smudged markings of road and hillock, town and stream. Before, I would have delighted in tracing my finger across reaches of the kingdom I never thought I’d see. Now I imagined only death and destruction in the wake of an army beyond my imaginings. And dragons lurking in the shadows, whispering my name.
I stared at the map until the darkening sky forced me close to the fire’s light, the pork in my hand largely forgotten.
“You going to eat that?” Dalen asked.
I took a bigger-than-usual bite. “Yes.”
“Nice try, Dalen,” Forest said.
“I don’t know how you can move at all, with the way you eat,” I said through the mouthful of meat.
He shrugged. “I’m slower than I should be. But faster than I used to be.”
I looked around, checking to see how many others were close by. Except for River giving Sedge rapt attention as he highlighted details of one of his female conquests, the three of us were fairly isolated on the opposite side of the fire. I turned to Dalen.
“What do you know about Nuaga and T’Gonnen?”
Dalen gave me an odd look. “Why?”
“You believe in them,” I said, “and apparently so does Tan Vey. I’m interested.”
“Don’t you remember anything from The Lament of Nuaga?”
“A little, maybe.” Nothing, mostly. “Tell me about T’Gonnen.”
“High king of the dragon clan,” Dalen said. “He sacrificed himself for the other dragons.”
I picked up my mug of ale and set it in my lap. “Why?”
“So they could sleep in peace and have a chance to reawaken someday. Sacrifice was always required to accomplish great magic like that.”
“Even if they did exist, why would anyone want them to wake up?” Forest said. “Dragons are supposed to be fierce. Melting people’s faces and things like that.”
“That’s not how it was,” Dalen said softly. “The mark of the dragon was a symbol of honor.”
“But it’s just legend,” Forest said. “None of it’s actually true, right?”
“Dalen believes the dragons will return,” I said.
Forest frowned and said nothing.
“‘Ylanda’ means ‘dragon’ in the Old Tongue,” Dalen said. “You could say we’re the kingdom of dragons.”
“If they wake up, then what?” I asked.
“I only know what’s in the Lament,” Dalen said. “I have some of it memorized.”
Curiosity burned inside me. “Only some?”
“Yes.” He paused, seeming to gauge my level of interest. When I raised my eyebrows, he began:
“From the Great God, ever breathing,
Came the Dragons.
Heat of sun and strength of thousands,
Came the Mighty Dragons.
“Fiery red, the pride of heaven,
Fierce T’Gonnen.
Bowing to her lord and master,
Loyal, brave Nuaga.
“By his side and never failing,
Never shirking.
She-king to the Clan of Dragons,
Lovely, strong Nuaga.
“Long their vigilant protection,
Through the ages.
Faithful to their charge and calling—
Faithful to the faithless.”
Dalen flashed a sheepish smile. “That’s all I know by heart.”
“Faithful dragons?” Sedge’s voice cut into the conversation like an unwelcome guest. “They were killers. Monsters.”
“That’s not what the Lament says.” As if I knew.
Sedge snorted. “That was written by some dragon-lover from Ytel. Everyone knows an army was sent to destroy the dragons rampaging the land. T’Gonnen was killed at Stonewall and the rest of the dragons disappeared. End of story.”
“That’s not how it was,” Dalen said again, his gaze lowered.
“I remember the story of T’Gonnen,” River offered. “But didn’t he save the dragons or something?”
“Yes,” Dalen said.
“All lies,” Sedge said. “The dragons may have existed, but the rest is a fairy tale.”
I remembered Jasper’s admonition and smothered the words that wanted to lash out at Sedge.
“I wonder where Tan Vey got his story about stealing the dragons’ loyalty by killing the high king,” Forest said.
Dalen shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not in the Lament?” I asked.
“No,” Dalen said. “It only says that T’Gonnen’s magic will wake Nuaga.”
Sedge threw his head back and downed the last of his ale. “Believe what you want, dragon boy. I think we’ve got worse things to worry about than dragons.” He rose and sauntered away to refill his mug.
I barely heard him. Dalen’s words were echoing in my brain: T’Gonnen’s magic will wake Nuaga.
“He believes more than he lets on,” River said. “At least, he believes in the magic.”
My scalp tingled. Hadn’t I first met Sedge in Madam S’dora’s shop? Perhaps River knew what he’d bought there.
“My sister bought something from a shop in Nandel,” I blurted. “Something to stop the bleeding on her wedding night.”
“That’s some apothecary,” Forest said.
“Not an apothecary,” I said.
River raised an eyebrow. “Did it work?”
“She hasn’t had a wedding night yet.”
Forest laughed. “That proves a lot.”
“I know which shop you mean,” River said. “I’m pretty sure Sedge made a stop there on our way through Nandel. Not sure if he bought anything, but I know he gives as much credit to those potions as I do.”
Whatever Sedge had purchased from Madam S’dora was clearly something he was keeping to himself. Not that I was one to talk.
“I wonder what he bought,” I said.
“Why are you so worried about dragons and old hags’ tales?” Forest asked.
I took a long drink of ale, then wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “If Tan Vey believes them, I think we should pay attention.”
The light from the dying fire was barely enough to help me see as I picked my way from the latrine to Forest’s and my tent. I saluted to Jasper, who had taken first watch, before ducking through the tent flap.
“I thought maybe you’d deserted,” Forest said.
“Not a chance. The food’s too good.” I sat down and pulled off my boots.
“So, are you going to tell me why you’re so interested in dragons?”
Prickles skittered across my skin. “I’m not, really.”
“You’re more obvious than you think you are.”
I unknotted my hair and rubbed my fingers through it. “It’s like I said. If Tan Vey believes in them, we should pay attention.”
“That stuff you swallow every night,” Forest pressed. “Did it come from the shop you and River were talking about?”
Words clustered in my mouth, getting stuck there. Hadn’t I been subtle, grabbing moments alone in the tent when I could, turning my back in the dark when Forest was there? “Yes.”
“What’s it for?”
I had prepared the lie ahead of time, but now that I was ready to tell it, it felt unbelievable on my tongue. “It’s to keep my feet from turning in.”
“You’re pigeon-toed?”
“I was, a little.” Each word buzzed across my lips, annoying untruths.
“But now you’re not?”
“Do you think I could fight Neshu pigeon-toed?”
“Guess not.” He shifted onto his side while I lay back—I still wasn’t used to being this close to a boy all night. Especially a boy with an endearing dimple. “So now you’re wondering if it’s really dragon magic? Is that it?”
“It’s hard not to question it.” This part was true, and easier to say. “I saw changes only a few days after starting the powder. What healer could do that? And what herb or oil do you know of that could fix something like this?”
“I don’t know,” Forest said. “But calling it magic is a bit of a stretch.”
“You’d have to experience it to understand.”
“Maybe.” He was silent for a moment. “What did your sister buy for her wedding night?”
My cheeks burned; I wished I hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “A tea. She says she has friends who used it.”
“Is that dragon magic, too?”
“I don’t know.”
He sighed. “Did you know that most of the towns in S’dona allow men to choose their own wives?”
“Really?” A strange heat settled in my stomach. “How did you learn that?”
“River told me. He’s from Thistle Spring, and he says he’s betrothed to a girl he fell in love with on his own.” Forest scratched his head. “Can you imagine kissing a girl who really wanted to kiss you, and not because your families were watching?”
My breath caught in my throat as I tried to come up with a clever answer. But no words came—there was only the intense closeness of Forest in the dark and an alarming moment of wondering what his lips might feel like against mine.
Great God.
I scooted imperceptibly away from him, desperate not to brush against him and heighten the storm in my breast. “I suppose,” I said.
“Hah. You’re like me, then,” Forest said. “You’d rather wait a long time before you get married.”
“Yes,” I said. “Definitely.” But the word shook as I spoke it.
He stretched in the dark, rolling onto his back. “Morning will be here too soon. Good night.”
“Forest?”
“Mmm?”
“Don’t tell anyone about the dragon powder.”
“I won’t say a word.”
I rolled away from him, as always, only this time I made sure the space between us was as large as possible.
Forest is promised to my sister. Whether I’m a boy or a girl, nothing will change that.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to grow drowsy. But my mind was wide awake, reliving the terror of Nuaga’s face and the insistence of her words: Release me. When I slept tonight, would I see her?
Almost, I opened my mouth to tell Forest about her—but his breathing had already deepened, soft and steady with slumber. I fell asleep wondering if he’d believe me … and when I’d see Nuaga again.
