Page 43 of Wild Flame

There was a beat of silence, then, “I know.”

“But why would he—”

“I don’t know.”

I had been stunned when I recalled where I remembered those colors. Black and yellow. Sekar. Ramin’s dragon.Raminhad just attacked the city, his own people. Quiet, patient Ramin. Ramin, who I had spared with, who was Zara’s teacher and a member of Malik’s Fangdar. Ramin, who was Sura’s husband, and Nalia’s father. We had just seen them in the street. And he had beenwearing the doting look of a man content with his life. Not someone who was planning—this.

“What will you do?” I asked, trying to keep the sudden waver from my voice.

I saw the flash of pain in his eyes before Malik could hide it. “What I must.”

Then he turned away and climbed up Azrun’s foreleg and settled on his back at the base of the dragon’s large neck. Without a saddle and wearing no armor, Malik bent low as Azrun beat his massive wings and launched into the sky.

They flew directly for the circling dragon I could barely make out in the dark sky.

“My lady, we need to go,” one of my guards urged.

I nodded and began to follow when a pained cry drew my attention to one of the crumbling buildings across the street. The tall sandstone structure had been damaged by the dragon fire, the sandstone blackened around a collapsed storefront. At least a dozen people were stuck in the rubble, pleading for help in the utter chaos around us.

I moved to run over and help, when one of my new Zehvitian guards stepped in front of me.

“Your Highness, our orders were to get you to safety.”

“We need to help them,” I said firmly. “So you can either assist me or watch, but either way, I’m going over there. Though, if you help, it will go faster.”

The warrior stared at me for a moment before his remote expression glinted with a hint of grudging respect, and he nodded. We crossed the street, and he directed the other guards to start moving some of the debris. I bent down as the warriors sheathed their blades, and we got to work.

After several minutes, we were able to shift and loosen enough of the wreckage to free several people. We had already come across one body, an older man, probably around his sixthdecade. When I saw the lifeless hand sticking out of the rubble, I knew, and my heart had clenched as the guards moved his body carefully to the side. One woman was wedged under a large beam that looked to have held up the canopy outside the store. I reached for a piece of the wreckage without thought, but the instant my hand made contact with the hunk of wood, scalding heat seared my skin.

“Realms!” I hissed and pulled back, hugging my injured hand to my chest.

“Are you all right, Princess?” the warrior I’d argued with asked with concern. I noticed he had a long scar across one cheek.

I nodded, even though my palm throbbed. “It’s nothing.” He didn’t look convinced.

Meanwhile, two of the other warriors stepped in to help the woman and managed to move the beam enough to drag her out from under it.

The warrior opened his mouth to say something else, but his words were lost as another dragon roar echoed around us.

We all looked up to see a third rider had entered the fray. This one was sand-colored, and I thought it might belong to Harun, Malik’s second in command. It was hard to tell. All I caught were flashes against the night overhead. I was glad Malik would have some help. Most of the dragon riders, including the Fangdar, were up at the palace. I hoped they were made aware of the attack soon, if they hadn’t been already. It had only been mere minutes since the attack had started, and thanks to all the bonfires tonight, seeing flames would be nothing too concerning on the surface, but surely the noise and chaos wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.

Then I heard a cry coming from the upper floors of the building we stood beneath.Was that a child?I glanced around, but it seemed no one else had heard it. The building groaned, clearly unstable. Not surprising, since nearly a third of it hadalready collapsed. The guards began moving rubble in earnest. But I couldn’t leave someone—especially not a child—to such a horrific fate.

Without another thought, I took off up the stairs along the outer wall of the building.

“Wait!” the Zehvitian guard cried, darting after me.

He made to stop me, and I yelled back over my shoulder. “I think I heard someone up here!”

“Then you let one of us investigate, Your Highness,” he chided.

But I didn’t stop. I leapt over a crumbling step just as the building trembled underfoot. I nearly lost my balance, but the warrior quickly caught my arm and steadied me. I met his disapproving stare with a thankful look as he released me.

“There’s no time,” I told him. “Please, help me.”

The warrior sighed and reluctantly nodded just as another cry sounded. Unmistakable. And we both heard it this time.

Without another word, we both raced up the remaining steps to the second story. An open door led to a small living space, but we found nothing. On the third story we came upon another room, which I quickly surveyed. This one with a square bed and a tiny pile of blankets and cushions laid on the floor to one side. A mewling infant lay inside, arms flailing as it wailed.

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