I closed my eyes and held tightly to Jasper, who lay splayed across the base of Nuaga’s neck. The sounds of the roaring blaze dimmed, and when Nuaga stopped, I opened my eyes.
Forest and the others stood scattered before the back wall of the outpost. As Nuaga raised her head, they moved quickly out of her way.
The warmth of her neck grew beneath my grasp as she opened her maw and breathed on the stones of the wall. I tightened my grip on Jasper’s arm as I watched the stone glow red and melt, until a portion of the wall had tumbled away in a pile of smoking debris. Nuaga stepped back and allowed the others to exit before following them through. She stopped several paces away from the wall.
“Take him,” she said.
I slid from her back, then reached up and eased Jasper down. He landed heavily, leaning on Nuaga more than relying on his own legs. The others, except for Kendel, stood in a ragged cluster, staring. River and Sedge. Dalen and Flint. Briar and Forest. Kendel sat with his forehead resting on his bent knees.
Rock was missing.
I swallowed. “This is Nuaga.”
Jasper fell heavily to one knee. I went down with him, supporting him with one arm.
“What hurts?” I asked.
“Broken ribs.” Jasper’s voice was jagged as the edge of a bone.
“Can you walk?”
He looked up, his face dark. “What … just happened?”
For a terrifying moment, I believed he was accusing me of something. But then I read utter disbelief and confusion in his eyes.
“You were saved by a dragon, sir.”
“We were all saved,” Dalen said.
“That dragon almost killed us.” Sedge. Paragon of bravery.
“No, she didn’t,” I said.
Jasper’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “The dragon rescued us.”
“You didn’t feel that hot breath blasting toward you, singeing the hair in your nostrils!” Sedge’s words were laced with panic.
“You didn’t seem to mind when he used his breath to get us through the wall,” Flint said.
“She,” I said. “Nuaga is a she-dragon.”
If their stares could have become more horrified, they did. I left Jasper’s side and moved to Nuaga, where the hilt of the enemy sword protruded from between her front and middle legs. I grabbed it with both hands.
“I have to pull it out,” I said softly.
She nodded once. I steeled myself, then withdrew the sword in one steady motion. Nuaga shuddered as it came free, and I stepped back, prepared for a torrent of blood. Only a thick ooze formed at the site of the wound, though, bubbling up slowly and running down her side as though it were honey instead of blood.
I reached for the nearest arrow, embedded low in her neck, but she stepped back.
“Those are nothing,” she said.
I looked at the others, who stood staring. Briar actually moved backward.
But not Dalen.
“Nuaga is the mate of T’Gonnen. I know all about her.”
At this, Nuaga dipped her head in Dalen’s direction. He beamed, his face a mixture of rapture and terror.
“I must go on with her alone,” I said to Jasper, “as I told you before.”
I saw the struggle on Jasper’s face—pain, indecision.
No, Rain.
Nuaga’s mind-speak caught me off guard. There was something in her voice I’d never heard before. Unease crept through me as I turned to face her.
“No?”
I’m hurt and unable to bear you.
“Then we will walk together.”
That will accomplish nothing. Stay with your men. See that they escort you safely to the hold. I will meet you there.
Panic stabbed me. We’re supposed to do this together.
Rain L’nahn. I felt the gentle admonishment in her words. If I do not allow myself to heal, how can I lead the dragons into battle? You have known the swiftness of dragon healing—your own flesh bears witness. By the time you arrive, I will be well.
I knew the wisdom of her words, but every inch of bone in my body ached to go with her. We’ll move as fast as we can.
As will I. And, Rain? She lowered her face, bringing her eyes directly across from mine. Remember that we are dragon-sisters. You are a she-king in your own right.
“Why is it staring at him? We should kill it when it’s not looking.” Sedge’s voice was barely audible, but I spun to face him, quick as a Neshu kick.
“One word from me and she will silence you where you stand.”
Sedge’s mouth hung open, and then it snapped shut. He folded his arms, his expression dark.
I knelt beside Jasper, who was still on his knees. “Nuaga is hurt and unable to bear my weight.”
“I never said you could go.”
Kendel suddenly slumped over, and I saw for the first time that his right pant leg was soaked with blood. Flint and Dalen rushed to his side, stretching out his legs and slapping his cheek as they called his name.
“Dragon’s teeth, he’s lost a lot of blood,” Flint said.
“Don’t worry about me.” Kendel’s words were fuzzy. Weak.
“We can stop the bleeding,” Dalen said.
But Kendel’s face was pale, and he didn’t respond. I stared helplessly as Dalen tore at Kendel’s pants in a frantic effort to expose the lethal groin wound.
“How can I tie it off?” Dalen sounded frantic. “It’s up too high. Someone help me.”
But Flint laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s too late, Dalen. He’s already bled too much.”
“It’s not too late,” Dalen said, his voice cracking. “Kendel. Kendel, stay with me.”
But Kendel didn’t stay. He breathed twice more, then stilled, his eyes fixed on unseen eternity. Dalen dropped his head onto Kendel’s chest. I pressed my hand to my mouth, my heart railing against this fresh loss.
No.
Not Kendel. Not Rock.
Not anyone else. Please, Great God.
Nuaga nudged me with her snout. I must go.
I nodded, unable to speak in the wake of fresh grief. Nuaga circled soundlessly away from us, respectful of our moment of loss.
Let the others know that I will guide you as my healing allows, she said as she departed.
I watched her go, and my heart yearned to be with her. Then I looked again at Kendel. Briar had stretched his lifeless arms out, palms up toward the Great God, and was closing Kendel’s eyes with his thumb. Dalen stood several paces away with his back to us. I looked through the hole in the wall to the smoke rising from our recent battle. Somewhere among the fallen lay Rock, whose melodies had soothed me many nights by the fire.
I sucked in cold air and tried to breathe out the weight of grief. But it had become a part of me, and all I could do was push through it.
I returned my attention to Jasper, who breathed heavily through his teeth. Quietly, Forest knelt at his other side and helped support him.
“What did she say?” Jasper asked.
“That she’ll meet me at the hold,” I said. “And to let you know that her voice will guide me.”
“We need to move,” Jasper said to everyone. He struggled to rise, and Forest and I helped him.
“Move where?” Sedge said. “For all we know, there are more soldiers out there.”
“Up.” Jasper gestured with his head. “We’ll skirt the base of the knoll and head northwest.”
Forest and I helped Jasper to his feet. I started to walk with him, but he pulled his arm from around my shoulders and straightened, the effort apparent on his face. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t, but I nodded and continued on with Forest. I couldn’t bear to look at Kendel’s body as we passed it.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the base of the knoll. From there, the ground began to rise steeply, and we stumbled and staggered to the edge of a precipice and looked down.
Jasper stood tall, his knife arm cradling his torso. His gaze swept the rolling plain below, across which I had scouted just yesterday.
“This dragon. Nuaga,” he said.
“Yes.”
“She wants you to … wake more dragons.” His voice was tight—whether with pain or frustration, I couldn’t tell. Probably both.
“Yes.”
“Did you see the fear in those men’s eyes?” Jasper’s voice had lowered to a sharp hiss. “What bond do you have with that thing? What unspeakable magic do you possess that would enable you to … to communicate with a monster like that?”
I stared at him and breathed, afraid that if I let my words out too soon, they would ignite and burn him where he stood. Finally I dared to speak.
“Nuaga pursued me for reasons of her own.” I couldn’t tell him anything more.
“And you feel confident that she means you no harm?”
“I do. She has never brought me harm.”
“And she won’t bring us harm, either?”
“No. She won’t.”
Jasper was silent for bit. “You said you can communicate with her. Can she at least let us know if there is danger ahead?”
“She will do that for us.”
Jasper let out a sigh, long and slow. “I’ve watched you grow into a formidable warrior. I don’t pretend to understand any of this. But … I’m ready to listen.”
My heart danced. “Are you?”
“If you say the dragon speaks to you, I believe you,” Jasper said. “And for reasons unknown, you seem to trust it.”
I wanted to tell him I’d received Nuaga’s mark—that I was part of the clan of dragons and trusted her as I trusted my own papa. But the mark lay concealed beneath bindings I couldn’t let Jasper see.
“I trust her with my life,” I said. “And I believe her heart is for Ylanda and our high king.”
Jasper looked at me with such intensity that I feared he had, perhaps, decided I was insane. But he nodded and said, “I believe you.” Slowly, he turned around and looked at the others for what felt like a very long time.
I held my breath.
“We’ll make with haste northwest, to the High King’s Hold,” he finally said, “an ancient site unknown to you.”
“I thought we were going to rescue the high king from Ylanda City,” River said.
“He’s not there.” Jasper’s gaze flicked to me for half a heartbeat.
“Why?” Sedge asked.
“Because he chose to seek refuge at the hold instead.” Jasper’s tone was firm. “Our goal is to arrive before Tan Vey’s army, and to deliver Storm safely to the dragon. If there’s any danger ahead, the dragon will let us know. If for any reason Storm is unable to accomplish his task, the rest of us will remove the high king from the hold as we trained to do.”
“And then what? Take down an entire army?” The scorn in Sedge’s voice was unmistakable.
“Our mission has always been to rescue the high king,” Jasper said, “or die trying.”
“What is this … dragon task?” Flint asked.
Jasper looked as though he were tasting the words before he spoke them. “Storm is going to wake the dragons.”
“Wake more dragons?” Sedge sounded incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“Regardless of what each of us believes, it’s Tan Vey’s belief that killing the high king and his family will give him not only the kingdom but also the allegiance of the dragons as well. The dragon has proved she means us no harm, and if there’s any chance that these dragons will help us, we’re foolish not to try.”
Sedge looked like he wanted to argue, but he clamped his mouth shut and turned away from Jasper.
“We’ll discuss details once we’ve reached the hold,” Jasper said. “We need to move out.”
“The way is longer if we continue on high ground,” River said.
“We are few,” I said. “We can move fast.” I glanced at Jasper’s arm encircling his ribs, knowing well that he would not be able to move fast.
Jasper drew back his shoulders. “Let’s go.”
A slight hesitation among the men made me fear dissension. But then, one by one, they started moving quickly up the path. Forest gave me an encouraging nod, and I set off with the rest, satisfied with Jasper’s trust in me.
For hours, we scrambled up inclines and slid down narrow passages and half-jogged, half-staggered across long stretches of open ground, the dark trees of Fingerling Forest always drawing nearer. By midafternoon, it was clear that Jasper was flagging, our pace hampered by his inability to move as quickly as the rest of us. No one approached him or dared to suggest that we slow down. His face was twisted in a grim expression that spoke of unabated pain.
Finally he stumbled to his knees, then sank the rest of the way to the ground, his head bowed.
I called to those ahead of us to stop and ran to Jasper’s side.
“Lie down. We can rest here,” I said softly.
He shook his head. “We may be pursued.”
“Just for a short while,” I said.
He nodded, and his head sank lower. I rose and gestured for Forest to come close. I didn’t want to risk making it sound like I was giving orders.
“He’s in a lot of pain,” I said quietly. “He needs to rest a bit, but we also need to make sure we find a source of water, and perhaps some herbs or roots that will help ease his pain.”
Forest turned to the others. “Jasper needs rest. We’ll take a break here.” Then he turned to me. “Will you help me find some rag root?”
I smiled. “I knew you’d know what to look for.”
We left the others and ducked into the trees that had been gradually thickening around us. Most of the leaves had dropped, and there wasn’t much green growing beneath the trees, other than a tangle of nearly dead undergrowth and late falling-season brush gone to seed.
“How did you end up on the back of a dragon?” he asked as soon as we’d covered some distance.
“I left my post at the archway.”
He stopped and stared at me. “That was your plan?”
“Nuaga was waiting for me. Jasper wouldn’t listen, and I knew I had to do it on my own.”
“And you saw the soldiers and came back to warn us?”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “I murdered one.”
Forest frowned. “Murdered?”
“He never knew I was behind him. If he’d discovered me, I wouldn’t have been able to bring Nuaga to rescue you.”
Forest was quiet for a bit. “When we get to the hold, will Nuaga keep you safe?”
“She hasn’t said so.”
“Because if you’re planning on being some sort of martyr…”
I started walking. “I have to wake the dragons, Forest. No matter what.”
He fell into step beside me. Moments later, when a dead branch caught him in the face, he pulled it free and threw it at a tree with such force that it broke.
I stared at him, but he continued to push into a thick cluster of trees as though nothing had happened.
“Let’s find that rag root,” he said.
“What does it look like?”
“It’s actually not a root at all,” Forest said. “It’s a lichen. Look on the tree trunks, close to the bottom. It’s usually a reddish-brown color, but it turns gray in the winter.”
“So, somewhere in the middle of those two colors?”
“Probably.”
We searched in silence for a few minutes. I found some lichen, but Forest said it wasn’t rag root. Minutes later, he called out with a note of triumph.
“I found some,” he said. “Come look at it. We’ll need more than this.”
I joined him at the base of a knobby tree, and he pointed out the ruffled, shelflike growth near the bottom. “It’s more gray than red, but it still has a hint of color. So this is what you need to look for.”
I marveled as I watched him delicately cut the rag root from the tree with the tip of his dagger. “How do you know so much about these things?”
“It’s what I love best.” The wistfulness in his voice grew an edge that sounded bitter. “I’ve always wanted to be a healer, but my father wouldn’t hear of it.” He reached for the small leather bag at his side and tipped the rag root into it.
“Why not?”
“Not good enough for an only son,” Forest said. “He wants me to be a grandmaster.”
“Do you want that?”
“No.” He smiled wryly. “You and Jasper are the only ones I know who are good enough for that.”
“You’re an excellent Neshu fighter,” I said.
He gestured to the base of the tree. “But I’m better at this.”
“You’re brilliant.” My heart twisted as I chose my next words. “Willow will love this about you.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he rose and pointed to a thicker stand of trees. “More trees like this are growing right here.”
I followed him, feeling a bit put off. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” He stepped on a swath of dead brush to help me walk over it. “Careful, there are thorns under there.”
We lapsed into silence as we ducked around the bases of the trees, looking for more rag root. I glanced at him more than once, but he kept his gaze firmly on the work before him. It was as though he’d forgotten I was there.
I sighed and circled around the next tree, searching for the odd lichens and seeing nothing. I moved to a larger tree and began the process again. Almost immediately, my gaze fell on a thick shelf of what I hoped was rag root.
“I think I’ve found some.” I flipped my cloak off my shoulder and unsheathed my dagger.
“Wait.” Forest’s footfalls crunched in the underbrush as he made his way toward me. “Let me see.”
I pointed. “There.”
“That’s it,” he said. “Well done.”
“So, I cut it off at the base?” I asked, dagger poised.
“Yes, as close to the bark as you can,” Forest said. “Be careful not to cut into the fleshy part, or it’ll ooze and lose potency.”
I started to cut, but he placed his hand on mine, stopping me.
“Straight down,” he said. “Not angled.”
But he didn’t remove his hand, and I was suddenly breathless. I stared at his hand, our hands, and couldn’t find any words.
“Rain.” He said my name softly, like an evening breeze. Like the warmth of sunlight splayed across my bed in the early morning.
My real name.
My heart pounded in my teeth, in my temples, and still I stared at his hand. Then, slowly, he curled his fingers around mine, and I let the dagger slide to the ground.
“Look at me. Please.”
I looked, and his eyes were blazing with something I had never seen. I held my breath.
“I don’t want to marry your sister,” he said. “I could never feel for her—for anyone—what I feel for you.”
A moment of disbelief shifted to exquisite joy. “Forest…”
“We may never make it home,” he said. “We may not even live until tomorrow. But even if we do—if we survive and somehow find our way back to our lives and families—I’m promised to your sister. And to break that promise—”
“Would dishonor both of our families,” I said. “And destroy my sister.”
“Yes.”
My expanding soul shrank back, curling in on itself like a leaf succumbing to flames. I couldn’t have Forest, and he couldn’t have me.
Not now. Not ever.
He laced his fingers through mine, sending hot shivers up my arms and into my stomach. “I don’t want to die out here. But when I think about dying, it seems easier than facing a life without you.”
“I…” Words threatened to strangle me. “Let’s not talk about dying.”
“No.” He drew my hand near and pressed his mouth to it. The warmth of his lips on my skin radiated through me as he closed his eyes, holding my hand captive as though he would never let go. A single tear escaped from beneath one eyelid, tracking down his face like the path of a shooting star.
Everything ached—my heart, my bones, my breath. I felt the loss of him as though he had died before my eyes. As though he and I were one being instead of two, and he had been cut from me, the blood gushing freely from the wound.
He opened his eyes and lowered my hand. “I won’t say anything again.”
Gently, I extricated my fingers from his and curled my hand around his tear-wet cheek. With my thumb, I wiped away the tear. “S’da.”
I wanted time to stop. I wanted to stay there, drowning in his eyes and forever living in a moment when nothing could take him from me. But I let my hand fall away.
“Forest! Storm! Are you alive or dead out there?” It sounded like River, but the distance and the rushing of my pulse in my ears made it hard to be sure.
“We should hurry,” I said, still holding his gaze.
Forest nodded, then turned his head in the direction we’d come. “We’re fine. Heading back,” he called.
I retrieved my dagger and removed the rag root from the tree the way Forest had shown me. I didn’t let him see the tears gathering in my eyes and spilling over despite my struggle to keep them in.
“I can’t fit the rest into my pouch,” he said. “Do you have room in yours?”
“I should.” My dragon powder and the last bits of dried meat in my leather bag left half of it still empty.
I reached for the bag at my belt without feeling it. Looking down, I felt again for the bag, but my fingertips brushed only the frayed ends of the leather thongs that had once attached it to my belt.
The bag—and my dragon powder—was gone.
