Page 50 of Between Despair and Hope

“Alright, you little shit, let him up.”

She shoved at it, and it freed me.

“You have a dragon? How—you have a gods damn dragon?”

“Seven, actually. Come on.” She gripped my hand and tugged, pulling us into what had once been an elaborate garden before the mayhem.

Almost stopping in my tracks, I saw what the hell she was talking about. Sure as shit, I counted six other dragons. All but one had a rider or two while the dragons used their mouths or tails to attack the soldiers coming out of the original rift. A second rift opened just as I spotted one of my best soldiers spinning and slicing her way toward us—Shade living true to her name as she moved undetected.

“Come on, you’ll ride with me. Can you help push me up?” A giant dragon stepped down from its perch atop an opulent marble fountain, sizing me up in a way which made me worry if it had been fed. Enormous, the grey giant flicked slate wings as he settled, dipping his neck. When he brought his head down to my level, I couldn’t help but wonder if he could eat me in one swallow or if he’d have to chew. His large eyes blinked slowly as Emma began her ascent. Green eyes. Eyes that looked like—

“Rain, help me,” she said gently.

I put my hands on her hips, hoisting her up that last bit, my movements rigid. Not sure if it was from draíbea or the sheer impossibility of the situation I’d found myself in again, none of it felt real. Dewalt’s voice rang out behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find him seated in front of a novice. I hoped it was the one who’d helped me. They were atop a dragon the color of a pearl, more slender in build, and he nodded toward me, grim assessment the only expression he wore. A hand slid around his waist and the woman peered out from behind him, a look on her face which told me she was smelling exactly what I smelled earlier in my cell. I felt the hint of a smile as I turned, climbing up behind Emma.

“Call the retreat, Rain.”

“What?”

“You’re back now, my love. Take your soldiers home.”

Shaken, I closed my eyes as I turned my head. Placing two fingers in my mouth, I whistled out the call for a retreat. The answering cry of the soldiers she’d brought sent a surge of emotion through me, and I fought it, suppressing my reaction. I didn’t have time to fall apart.

The white dragon launched into the air, and the novice screamed, clinging tightly to my friend.

Shade ran toward the smaller dragon who had tackled me and hopped on with an ever-impressive grace, and they both launched into the air next.

“Hang on tight,” Emma said, pulling one of my hands around her waist.

I only hesitated a moment before my other arm joined in, wrapping myself around my wife, feeling those remaining golden tethers hum in delight, weaker than it had ever been. I inhaled deep, trying to breathe her scent, reminding myself she was real, but all she smelled of was smoke. Eyes closed, I buried my face into her hair, loose from the braid now, searching for something, anything, to help me. My nose nuzzled against that spot behind her ear, and she shivered. I caught the faintest hint of lavender and my own soap.

She was mine. She was real. She was here.

“My dear heart,” I whispered into her neck, pressing my lips to her skin. Soft, warm, and mine.

She jolted a moment later when a dragon’s cry wrenched through the air.

“That hurt, Rain. Why did you do that?” she asked, twisting her body to rub the back of her arm as she turned toward the dragon who had shrieked. A sharp gasp had me looking too, despite my confusion over what she’d just said, and I saw an arrow protruding halfway through the dragon’s wing. It recovered, only jostling her riders before righting herself. It continued on, barely affected, and I sat back, running a hand down Emma’s arm, recognition swiftly turning to fear and anger.

“You felt that, didn’t you?”

“No, I…” She trailed off, uncertain.

“How do you have dragons, Em?”

“I made them.”

“What do you mean, you made them?”

“They’re—they’re made from shadows and memory.” The white beast flew a path in front of us, switching sides with the injured dragon, perhaps to better protect her. “That one is Lux, and her memory is one of my sister.”

She was graceful beauty and muscle, and the way the rising sun caught on her scales made her almost glow. She was the most beautiful of the seven creatures bearing us southeast toward the Cascade.

“Ciarden’s blessing,” she whispered.

“You—you felt that though, the arrow?”

“I think so.” She slid a hand down to cover mine around her waist.

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