It didn’t seem possible that Tan Vey’s army could have beaten us to the hold. Had we miscalculated so horribly?
I gazed again at the sheer number of tents dotting the darkened landscape. And my heart shriveled within me.
I would have to leave at once, while I still had the cover of darkness. Alone.
I crept back to the hollow, where Sedge and Forest slept. Careful not to make a sound, I retrieved my breastplate and sword, laying them outside the hollow so I could don them without waking the others. Then, soft as silk, I took my cloak from where it lay across Forest’s chest. I hated doing it, but I would need it more than he did.
He didn’t stir. I touched the back of my hand to his brow and felt no fever, which gave me a measure of peace. I took the strips of dried meat from Sedge’s pouch and laid them next to Forest. With a final glance at Sedge, I backed out of the hollow. I sheathed my sword, then walked several paces away to finish dressing. Sedge’s pouch hung from my belt, the empty oil bottle tucked inside.
Already the protection of darkness had begun to betray me, as it was now light enough to see without stumbling. I stood for a minute or so at the top of the rise, gazing at the army camp below and assessing how best to approach the hold unseen. Then I turned and made my way toward a thin cover of trees, hoping my chosen path wouldn’t veer too far from the hold—or too close to the army camp. Without the sun to guide me, it was hard to know which direction I was moving in.
“Rain.”
I turned, my heart in my throat, to see Forest behind me, breathing heavily. “Go back.”
“You can’t go alone.”
“Tan Vey’s army is camped below,” I said. “I’m not even sure how I’ll make it past without being seen. There’s no reason for two of us to attempt it.”
“You need me to cover for you.”
“You don’t even have a shirt. And you’re wounded!”
“I’m fine.”
“Forest—”
“It’s not my fighting arm, s’da? If I didn’t think I could defend you, I wouldn’t be here.”
I planted my fists on my hips. “I’m willing to sacrifice myself. But not you.”
“And I’m not willing to sacrifice you, either. I told you before that I’d never let you do this alone. I mean it.” He stepped close and lifted my chin with his fingers. “I love you. I’m coming with you.”
His kiss was soft as spring and warm as summer. I looked into his eyes and knew I couldn’t turn him away.
“You’re sure you can fight?”
“I’m sure.”
“What about Sedge?” I asked.
“He can fend for himself.”
I felt a twinge of guilt for leaving him unarmed, despite his wretchedness. “But he’s bound.”
“If he’s determined enough to be free of that belt, he’ll find a way,” Forest said. “It’s leather, not metal.”
“Fine,” I said. “But not like this.”
I unsheathed my dagger and slipped the cloak from my shoulders. Piercing the seam between the outer leather and inner fur, I sliced the two layers apart, so that, when I was finished, I had what was essentially two cloaks. I draped the outer layer over Forest’s shoulders and hooked it closed, then made a slit in each side for his arms, with a smaller slit behind his right shoulder for his dagger. Finally, with a strip cut from the end of my half of the cloak, I fastened the leather shell around his waist.
“Bare arms, but it’s better than a bare torso,” I said.
“I didn’t know you were a seamstress on top of everything else.”
“One of my finest skills.” I threw the fur lining over my shoulders and, with nothing to fasten it, held it closed with my left hand, to keep my knife hand rested and free. “Let’s go.”
We moved as quickly as we could. Forest was noticeably slower, and I soon began to worry that he would falter before we’d made it safely to the hold.
“How are you?” I asked for at least the third time.
“I’m fine.” The same thing he’d answered each time.
By the time the sun had fully risen, we’d reached the last easy cover of trees before the open plain that stretched in front of the hold—and the horde of soldiers occupying it. From here, we could easily hear the sounds from the army camp—the sharpening of blades, the shouting of orders, the sounds of hammering.
“What are they building?” I whispered.
Forest listened for a moment. “Catapults, I’d guess.”
I closed my eyes. How would we get past an entire army?
“From the sound of things, they’re getting ready to make their move,” Forest said.
“We’ll need to cut around to the southwest and circle back,” I said. “How’s your shoulder?”
He shrugged. “Sore. I’m fine.”
I shoved aside my growing worry. “Let’s head to the lower ground and go as far as we can.”
It wasn’t much of a plan, but neither of us knew what to expect from the terrain as we moved forward, other than the fact that the expanse was flat and clear ahead, and completely blocked by Tan Vey’s army.
So we pressed on.
By the time we’d reached a small, rocky outcrop that gave us cover, we knew we’d come to the end of the easy part. Between where we crouched and the hold, there was little to hide us, unless we swung even farther to the southwest.
We couldn’t do that, though. We were running out of time.
“Our only choice is to keep as much distance as we can between us and their southern flank,” I said. “It looks like a stream or small river is running toward the lake … there.” I pointed. “We can head for the edge of that tree line and approach the hold from that side.”
“Let’s do it.”
We ducked along the back of the ridge until it was no longer high enough to cover us. An empty plain stretched before us, leaving the hold in full view.
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” I said. “This would have been easier at night.”
“And you’d be so exhausted that you wouldn’t be able to fight off a moth.”
I knew he was right. But I couldn’t tell him how terrified I was to run across the open ground.
“On three,” I said, dropping my cloak so it wouldn’t hinder me.
“Rain.” Forest touched my arm. “No matter what happens, keep going. Don’t stop.”
I knew what he meant, but I couldn’t admit it to myself. I formed what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
“We’ll make it.”
He nodded. “We’ll make it.”
I took a breath and counted. Then, heart blazing within me, I ran. It felt as though ten thousand eyes would descend upon me at any moment as I pushed myself to run faster than I ever had. Breaths came sharp and cold, and the sound of my footfalls pounded in my ears like drumbeats, calling attention to me. I hazarded a glance over my shoulder and saw that Forest was far behind me.
Too far. He was flagging. Far worse than I had expected.
No matter what happens, keep going. Don’t stop.
But already I was slowing down, glancing first at the army to my right, then over my shoulder, then at the army again, losing time, losing ground.
Then I saw something that gripped my entire body with such horror that I stumbled and lost my footing. In a shallow pit in the open field, with chains around her neck, Nuaga lay with her head lifted as far as her restraints allowed her, watching me. For several petrified seconds, I stood gaping, unable to make sense of what I saw.
How had they overpowered her? How would I wake the dragons without her?
And how could she then lead them into battle?
I recovered and started to run again, though thick dread clouded my heart. A great bellow cracked through the morning air, and my heart rejoiced—Nuaga was creating a distraction so that we could cross the open field, despite her chains. Moans of dismay rose up from the troops as she continued to keen, swinging her head back and forth so that the chains rattled mightily.
With new confidence, I quickened my pace, running until I’d made it safely to the side of the hold. I flattened myself in a depression at the base of the knoll into which the hold was built. Peering out, I saw Forest still running, barely more than halfway across. I bit my lip and willed him to run faster.
Nuaga gave a final cry, then fell silent. Another outcry issued forth from Tan Vey’s army, one that could only mean that the captive dragon had been once again subdued.
Forest was still running. I pressed a fist to my mouth, holding back the terror that he would be seen. If only her distraction had lasted another minute or two. I watched him, silently willing him to hurry, and in those moments, nothing mattered more than his safety.
Then, as Forest drew ever nearer, Nuaga’s words burned in my memory: Love for a man is embedded in your heart. Perhaps he will be your downfall when your time comes.
My insides twisted. She’d been right to warn me. I couldn’t allow my love for Forest to stand in the way of whatever was required of me right here, right now.
“Forest,” I whispered.
He made it, staggering to a stop and dropping to his knees beside me. I scooted over, and he lay on his back, panting.
“You made it,” I said.
He nodded, unable to speak. His face, swathed in sweat, looked too pale. Clumsily, I removed the skin from my cloak pocket and offered it to him.
He raised his head and drank a few swallows, then lay back down. “Just a bit dizzy.” He closed his eyes.
I crawled to his feet and lifted them onto my lap. “This should help. Be still a moment.”
“I’m fine,” Forest said, still breathing hard. “What’s next?”
“Did you see Nuaga?”
“No. Where?”
“In a pit on the field.” I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “She’s in chains.”
“Great God. Is that what that awful sound was?”
“Yes. I don’t know how I’m going to find the entrance to the catacombs without her.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“There’s more.” Despair clutched at me, tightening my throat. “She needs to lead the dragons into battle. Tan Vey must know that, too.”
For the first time, Forest looked truly worried. “We’ll figure it out,” he said again.
But it was clear his hope had faltered, same as mine.
I cupped my hand over my eyes and looked up at the hold. From here, its girth and height were impressive, though it had the appearance of being old and abandoned, tucked into the hillock like a relic from another era. As I looked, I saw movement on a high balcony and a glint of metal in the light of the rising sun.
“There.” I pointed, forgetting that Forest’s eyes were closed. “Soldiers.”
Forest sat up, swinging his feet off my lap. “The high king must not have expected the enemy to know where he was. Even if he brought a hundred soldiers, it won’t be enough to fight off this attack.”
“There must be provisions inside, though,” I said. “If they lay siege—”
“This will be no siege,” Forest said. “They’re going to storm the hold and bring it down.”
I gazed across the field at the mammoth catapults that stood in a long row, a few of them not quite complete. Then I noticed a pavilion off to one side, its canopy festooned with black and red banners. Beneath it stood several men who looked important—commanders? Generals?
One of them stepped from beneath the pavilion and faced the catapults, arms crossed, a mass of braided hair hanging down his back. He gestured sharply to the other men, speaking words I couldn’t hear. The others bowed and made their way toward the catapults. He watched them for a few moments before returning to the pavilion.
My chest tightened. “Tan Vey,” I whispered.
“Where?”
“There. Beneath the pavilion.”
We watched him, words silenced in our throats. Here was the man who had single-handedly united the nomads and initiated the invasion. He knew our history, he knew of the dragons, and he had come to claim what he thought was his for the taking.
“Not on my watch,” I said.
I reached into the pouch at my waist and pulled out Sedge’s oil bottle. Please work. I pulled the stopper out and tipped the bottle into my palm, tapping it repeatedly in the hope that even the smallest drop might come out.
There it was. A smudge of oil on my palm—hardly anything, but enough to feel when I ran my fingertip through it.
I took my oily palm and rubbed it into my neck, over the warmth of my pulsing veins and in the hollow where my shoulder blades met.
Please work. Please.
But only silence met me. The oil wasn’t working.
I replaced the stopper and shoved the useless bottle into the pouch. “The catacombs must be accessible from inside the hold,” I said. “I have to find a way in.”
“Those soldiers on the balcony aren’t going to know that you’re not an enemy soldier,” Forest said.
He was right. Once more, I gazed along the weatherworn stone surface of the hold. But there was nary a window, nor any hint that anything lay hidden behind that ancient wall.
No visible way in.
A long note sounded from a deep horn, followed by answering notes from other horns. Whatever signal this was, I knew it meant I didn’t have much time.
Then Nuaga’s words, which hadn’t made sense before, returned to me: Climb, Rain. In the back, where no one can see.
“We need to climb the knoll,” I said.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” I frowned. “Can you make it?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
We picked our way over the rocks that made up the foot of the knoll. The sound of rushing water tickled my ears, and as Forest and I climbed over a ridge to mount the next level of the knoll, I saw why—the rocks and earth ended suddenly in a drop-off so severe that it made my head swim. Below, a raging waterfall threw a fine mist into the morning air.
“Great God,” Forest muttered.
I shrugged, acting more confident than I felt. “A good natural defense. Are you sure you’re up for the climb?”
He nodded, and we pressed on.
The gentle rise of ground quickly gave way to a steep, treacherous climb that made it obvious why the hold had been built here. Grateful for the strength in my arms due to Jasper’s relentless training, I pulled myself up over rocky outcrops and navigated steeper areas without slipping. We were about halfway up when Nuaga’s bellows echoed from the plain. I stopped, listening. There was something frantic in her tone. A warning.
“What is it?” Forest called from somewhere behind me.
“I don’t know.”
I turned to look at him, dismay creeping through me when I saw how far he’d fallen behind. Nuaga’s cries became more insistent as I continued to climb. Were the nomads torturing her? Or was she trying to tell me I’d gone the wrong way?
“Midget!”
I froze, the familiarity of Sedge’s voice piercing me. Then I turned and saw him not far below where Forest stood clinging to a sharp ridge of earth and rock. Forest reached over his shoulder for his dagger, pain spreading across his face like a storm.
Nuaga’s last cry was still fading when I saw what it was she surely had been trying to warn me about. Scrambling up the rocky incline with an agility that defied belief were two nomad soldiers, their hair in tied-back, thick coils, their teeth clamped onto the hilts of long daggers. One headed toward Sedge, the other toward Forest.
Sedge was unarmed. Forest was wounded. For one agonizing second, I stood, torn.
“Midget!” Sedge was scrambling now, trying to outclimb the nomad that was quickly gaining on him. “I have what you need! I can hear her!”
I started back down the knoll, rocks sliding beneath my boots. Forest had found better footing and was holding his dagger in a defensive position, his eyes on the nomad coming toward him.
“Forest!” I called.
“I’ve got this. Go.”
I unsheathed my own dagger and clamped it in my teeth as I made my way down the slope toward Sedge. The nomad was closing in fast as Sedge backed his way up the slope. I slid to his side moments before the enemy soldier was close enough to strike.
“Climb!” I yelled.
The nomad lunged at me, nimble and deadly, a growl in his throat rising to a guttural cry as he struck. I was ready with my own blade and diverted his strike, enjoying the advantage of higher ground.
But he was quick, and he soon swung again, his footing more secure, his attack stronger. I blocked him a second time, then shifted my stance and gave a Great Cry, moving fluidly into the third stance of Neshu. In three swift moves, I disarmed him and knocked him to his knees. He yelled and pulled a second, thinner blade from inside his boot, but I was faster.
I had found my anger.
My hatred.
I kicked the blade from his hand and plunged my dagger into the hollow of his neck. The vivid red of the blood that spurted and gushed and sprayed my hand made me stagger. Made white spots flash across my vision.
Made me sway as I pulled the blade from his neck.
“Dragon’s blood, get up here!” Sedge’s words were frantic.
I looked up to see him scrambling up the knoll toward its pinnacle. Forest yelled, and the clash of metal brought me fully awake again. The nomad had engaged him on a particularly steep part of the slope, though Forest had the upper ground.
Then my heart grew dark as I saw two more nomads climbing toward him.
No.
Nuaga’s words seared my heart: Perhaps he will be your downfall when your time comes.
No. No. No.
This couldn’t be my sacrifice.
Not Forest.
Dear Great God, no.
There was no time to fight for him. No chance to save him.
I had to choose the dragons over Forest.
With a heaving sob, I picked up the dead man’s dagger, turned once again toward the top of the slope—toward Sedge, toward Nuaga—and started to climb.
