Page 413 of Kingdoms of Night

The dragon dropped from the sky as Isa attempted to drag Viridi, now fully in his dryad elf form, away from the fighting. His tunic—somehow magically appearing after his shift—had been burned through along his back, and his trousers smoked. His skin was pink and blistered along his lower back, but he should have been far worse off. Perhaps his Thorned One’s body made him far less susceptible to a burn?

Still, the pain had to be terrible if it had knocked him out.

“There!” Rhianne shouted above the mess of dryad elves, their crew, and the Brunes’ crew fighting with fists, swords, and daggers. She pointed to a spot beyond the village. A roar echoed from the area. The dragon had fallen, but it was still alive, still able to produce dragonfire.

Werian leapt from an overturned table and shot multiple arrows in quick succession, cutting down three of the Brunes’ men. Then the fae prince rushed toward the place where Rhianne had indicated.

What was he going to do about the dragon?

At least, Dame and her controlling whistle appeared to be gone. Hopefully, Rhianne had defeated her with the fire magic from her wand.

Isa settled Viridi under the shade of a low-branched pine, her heart aching. Once she had her dagger at the ready in case someone decided to come at her or Viridi, she turned to tuck his tangled hair behind his wood-tipped, pointed ear. Her eyes burned as she stroked his silken hair.

“Please,” she murmured. “Don’t die. We’re just getting started.”

His body moved up and down in an uneven breathing pattern that spoke to his pain.

“It’s all your fault,” a voice said.

Isa raised her head and was on her feet in a moment, holding the blade between her and the dryad elf who stalked toward her. It was Helena—the woman Viridi had banished. Helena’s slim fingers wrapped around the hilt of a short sword, and dark green leaves swirled over her left hand. What could basic dryad elven magic do exactly? Surely she wasn’t as powerful as Viridi, but those leaves made this potential fight a lot more unpredictable.

The fighting moved out of the village and toward the path that led to the coast. Neither Werian or Rhianne were anywhere to be seen.

Isa was alone.

“What’s my fault exactly?” she asked, lacing her words with venom. “The storm that threw me onto this island, or the fact that bad people exist? Just want to clarify so I know what to feel guilty over.”

Helena’s amethyst eyes flashed. “Sharp tongues need cutting.”

“Try it.” Isa gripped her knife more tightly, her fingers damp with perspiration.

Helena arced her sword toward Isa’s head. Isa lunged forward and slashed at her abdomen at the same moment Helena flung magicked leaves into the air. The leaves flew at Isa’s eyes and blocked her vision. She dropped back and fell over Viridi’s legs. She’d cut Helena, but didn’t know how deeply. Keeping hold of her dagger, she used her other hand to tear at the leaves spinning around her temples and eyes. Their edges scratched at her skin and tugged at her eyelids like they would blind her if she chanced a look.

Thinking quickly as she rolled over Viridi’s legs to avoid Helena’s sword, Isa lifted Viridi’s hand to her eyes and used his fingers to draw the swirling leaves away.

The leaves dropped into her lap and she opened her eyes to see Helena’s mouth fall open. The dryad elf recovered quickly, and although she avoided injuring Viridi, she lunged for Isa, her blade catching the setting sun.

Isa threw herself to the side, narrowly dodging what would have been a mortal wound, then she leapt to her feet and ran toward where she guessed Werian and Rhianne were. She prayed no one would injure Viridi. The dryad elves wouldn’t hurt him because he was their prince. Right? The Brunes and their crew would most likely think Viridi was dead already.

Rhianne shot dazzling sparks from her wand toward a dryad elf who went down in a heap. Then she aimed for a woman—Ursane.

Isa’s stomach rolled. She tripped and her knife went flying.

Ursane stumbled to hide from Rhianne behind a beech, while the dryad elf moaned on the ground near the edge of the village.

Helena broke into a run toward Isa, her mouth wide as she shouted in her language. Isa rummaged through a pile of fallen leaves to find her knife, but the debris was too thick. Rhianne straightened her wand arm and hissed a spell.

Helena dropped dead not ten feet from Isa. The elven woman’s eyes were wide open and Isa tried not to feel glad she was gone.

Gathering her wits and trembling, Isa rushed to Rhianne and Werian. Everything was happening so quickly. Her mind hadn’t caught up.

“Viridi…he needs help.” Her tongue felt too large for her mouth and she was shaking terribly.

Werian nodded gravely but put a finger to his lips and pointed to the dragon whose head was in his lap. “Gorgeous girl,” he said to the dragon. “We’ve had a rough time of it lately, haven’t we? It’s understandable you would be jumpy and ready to destroy anyone who moves too quickly.” He gave Isa a meaningful stare. Then he glanced up, looking first at Rhianne before visually searching the surrounding trees for possible attacks.

Isa reached out a tentative hand and stroked the dragon’s midnight scales. They felt like old coins and were surprisingly warm. “Greetings, dragon.”

The dragon blinked up at Isa and made a clicking, purring sort of sound.

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