Page 45 of Blood of the Stars

Sylmar and Cyrus joined Velden and Aeliana, followed by Iris and Kendalyhn, whose pretty face broke into a frown as she helped Aeliana up.

“Come here, love.” Iris fussed over Aeliana, smoothing her hair and cloak even as she admonished her for leaving the cave.

Sylmar’s staff changed to a sword in his hand, its burning glow resembling coals. Except Aeliana realized the staff had always been metal, its shape shifting as if it were still in the blacksmith’s furnace.

The dragon chose that moment to land in the newly blackened clearing less than a hundred paces away. The weight of his body touching down sent a shock through the ground that left Aeliana disoriented. Smoke swirled from his nostrils, then faded as he sucked in a breath. His jaw widened, revealing sharp yellow teeth, charred flesh caught between molars. More flames erupted on Aeliana’s right, and fire licked deeper into the forest on both sides. Soon there would be a wall of it cornering them in closer to the dragon.

Cyrus gasped, then grabbed her hand and pulled her back out into the clearing. The others followed, taking up a defensive stance—swords raised, arrows nocked. Matching determination set all their faces in stone, but Aeliana sensed a futileness behind their actions. One by one, they loosed their arrows, but the targets were out of reach.

Vera and Arvid climbed onto the dragon’s back, slipping over scales and regaining their foothold as if they’d been riding dragons all their lives. The dragon shifted impatiently, claws digging at the earth like a dog pawing the ground. He turned an eye on Aeliana, cocking his head as if intelligently assessing her from a distance.

He didn’t even glance at the small force of Vendarans, whose weapons couldn’t do any damage to his thick skin. Instead, he stared Aeliana down, as if daring her to come and claim what was hers. Aeliana’s eyes narrowed as the true situation sank in. It didn’t matter that the beast could take her out with fire or claws or a single bite. Vera had her blood, and if what Velden said was true, Aeliana had no other choice but to get it back.

Without a second thought, she ran, closing the distance between her and the dragon.

CHAPTER 18

Durriken snorted as if entertained by Aeliana’s attempt at heroism, then turned in a circle like he might settle down for a nap. Arvid and Vera screamed their protests, and a sparking cough left the dragon’s snout. Durriken’s amusement only served to make Aeliana wary, but she was too close to turn back.

He stilled enough for Arvid and Vera to get situated, which also allowed Aeliana to get closer. Horns jutted out from Durriken’s neck, possibly natural, but more likely some sort of collar. The horns gave her guardians something to hold on to, and gaps in the dragon’s scales provided footholds—footholds that were close enough to his underbelly that Aeliana felt certain she could reach them.

If she could live that long.

As she sidestepped Durriken’s tail, he stood, stomping in a circle to test the security of his cargo. His tail bent and curved, the scales nearly brushing Aeliana aside, which probably would have been her death. From the top down, the scales appeared shiny and slippery, but Aeliana got the sense that if she could run her hands from the bottom up, their delicate edges would be as sharp as knives. Vera screamed her irritation, scrambling to regain purchase when her hand slipped. Heart thudding in her chest, Aeliana used that moment to leap up and snag Vera’s boot, pulling the woman down to the ground with her.

Vera screamed again, this time in pain, as something snapped with her landing.

Aeliana grimaced at the sound as she rolled to the side. She had no time to be shocked or even proud of her success. Strange metal spikes grew from the ground, wrapping around Durriken’s paws like some sort of trap, nearly catching Aeliana along with him. The beast growled and lifted his feet, forcing the metal to bend. Aeliana rolled even farther from Vera to avoid getting trampled, then glanced back at the others.

Sylmar’s hands rested on two large rocks, his face a mask of concentration as the metal in the surrounding land bent to his will, sliding to the surface and wrapping around the dragon’s paws once more, reinforcing the traps. The others lowered their swords and bows, as Aeliana’s proximity to the dragon made it more likely they’d injure her than Durriken in a physical attack.

Spirals of smoke shot out from Arvid’s hands, snapping the metal chains to free Durriken without difficulty. The beast readjusted, causing Aeliana to bump into his soft underbelly. He grunted and turned as Vera stood, nursing her wrist against her side while looking for another foothold. Aeliana could take the woman down again, but she didn’t need Vera. She just needed her cloak.

She stepped forward, but Durriken let loose a thundering rumble that shook Aeliana’s insides and knocked her to her backside. Vera used the distraction to climb up on his back once more, accepting Arvid’s help and wincing as she adjusted her grip to accommodate her wound.

Aeliana followed before she could think through the consequences. She jumped on Durriken’s tail, the scales as slippery as she’d expected. Reaching for purchase only sliced her hands more as Durriken flared out the edges of the scales to flay her skin.

The blood trickling down her hands made it that much harder to think, the temptation to use it in some way almost impossible to resist. But giving in now would mean giving herself over to Arvid and Vera, to the dark spirits, and most likely to Mayvus. She took shorter breaths through her mouth, avoiding the coppery scent’s pull as long as possible.

Durriken circled again, and Aeliana nearly lost her grip. She yanked one of his scales off, slicing her palm in the process, releasing even more blood. She climbed higher, managing to reach the edge of Vera’s cloak as Durriken picked up his pace, which jostled Aeliana to the precarious edge of his back. At any moment he would take off, and Aeliana would either be swept away with the enemy or dead.

The fleeting thought that her death might be the safest thing for everyone else crept through her mind, but she shook that darkness away.

With a burst of adrenaline, she launched herself at Vera, grabbing the woman’s cloak and swinging low to the ground. Aeliana’s weight pulled the cloak down, nearly ripping Vera from the dragon’s back, but Arvid held Vera tight. Instead, Aeliana was dragged along the charred earth, flaming skeletons of trees whipping across her face.

She reached up with the scale she still gripped and blindly sawed at Vera’s cloak until the small tear she formed caught the momentum of her weight, ripping completely and sending Aeliana tumbling to the forest floor. Durriken’s back legs nearly trampled her, and his tail snapped back, its tip slapping her back and rolling her through embers that singed her along with Vera’s cloak.

Bright white light flashed, blinding her; then there was a crack as her head hit rock.

The blackness that came over her felt expected. A hit like that should have knocked her out. But her racing mind wasn’t right. Neither was the pain. Hot and searing, like something spliced through the center of her head, striving to be released as the pressure built. The pain fell away as quickly as it came, her mind no longer connected to her body.

Was this death? Would she join the Stars?

The blackness shifted to the deep blue of water, but instead of the Stars winking before her, Cyrus’ lifeless face floated by. She wanted to scream, to reach out for him, but the water shimmered, quickly replaced by the image of the dead girl outside Gahldric’s Stargazer, her accusing eyes trained on Aeliana even as Arvid’s magic buried her body. The foliage shifted into the dragon’s sneer, its neck red and raw, stripped of scales but also the collar. A creature with glassy eyes and red wings fluttered past, replacing the dragon.

Aeliana fought the images, trying to pull herself from the strange dream, but instead saw herself behind prison bars, eyes full of contempt, face half-hidden by stringy hair. It morphed into a far more pleasant face full of freckles splitting for a grin, a moment when Cyrus laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. Then a man, his face in shadow as he bent to kiss her. A silver creature writhing on the ground. A muscular woman rising from the water. Crows pecking at her eyes. A battle, too full of blood and smoke to make out individuals. A heavyset man handing her a sword. A city stretched before her. A young man lying on a table, chest open with heart and ribs exposed. An arrow protruding from her own chest.

The visions came and went until Aeliana no longer tried to make sense of them. When the last image faded—a silver heart embedded in a pale woman’s forehead—the blackness took her once more.

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