Page 51 of Inferno

DANTE

“Are you ready, Dante?” asked the Elder Wyrm.

Standing in the Elder Wyrm’s new office, I took a breath to calm the emotions churning in my stomach, and nodded.

Everything was in place. The men, the security, the special “surprises” we had planned. All was foolproof. Nothing would slip past us this time. When Cobalt and the Order of St. George finally made their move, no matter what they had prepared, we would be ready for them.

And when Ember inevitably showed up, when I stood face-to-face with my twin once more, I knew what I had to do.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said confidently. This was it, the end of an era. It was time to stop these games, once and for all. “I’m ready.”

EMBER

In military terms, the darkest hour before dawn was known as Before Morning Nautical Twilight. Historically, according to Garret, it was a favorite time to launch a surprise attack on enemy forces, because it was the time when the human body was at its least alert. It also gave you a full day of war during which, hopefully, you could press your advantage and leave the enemy scrambling for control the rest of the battle.

That was the theory, anyway.

I sat beside Garret in the back of the semi truck, feeling every bounce and rumble of the gravel road through the metal walls of the container. Outside, it was dark; the only light came from a couple lanterns set on the floor of the semi, but at least it wasn’t cold. Not with the amount of bodies surrounding us.

Beside us, covering nearly every square inch of the container, a small army of dragons waited in silence. Hatchlings, Juveniles and dragonells sat quietly along the wall, their expressions grim with anticipation. A few were asleep, curled up in corners or leaning against a friend, and I envied them the few hours of oblivion. We’d been traveling through the night, and even with several pillows, blankets and mattresses scattered about, the bed of a semi truck was not comfortable. Riley was up front driving the rig, with Wes and Mist beside him in the cab, and I also envied them the additional comfort of padded seats. But I had volunteered to stay in the back with the rest of the hatchlings and dragonells, so I couldn’t complain. At least there were no soldiers of St. George in the container with us—well, besides Garret. The rest of the Order were trailing behind in a second semi, and it was a relief not to have to worry about certain soldiers taking offense over sharing space with dragons.

Though, there being less of them, they probably had a lot more room in the back of the truck. Stupid St. George prejudices. We were allies, yes, but there was still a long way to go.

Beside me, Garret was calm. He was dressed like a soldier, in a black armored vest, gloves and combat boots, with a variety of weapons holstered to his belt or across his chest. I was dressed similarly, with a vest over my Viper suit, an M4 over my shoulder and a pistol holstered to my belt. His gloved hand was curled around mine in the space between us, and I could feel the easy rise and fall of his breath.

I wished I could find some of his tranquility. For the past hour, I’d been trying to calm myself, to ease the frantic writhing of nerves in my stomach the closer we got to our destination. I knew the hatchlings and the dragonells were just as scared, probably more so, and they were all holding up remarkably well, considering the situation. But to me, gazing over the crowded container, they all seemed very young. Which was silly, as most of the hatchlings were my age or older, and some of the dragonells were Juveniles. They had their whole lives ahead of them, centuries of living left to do. But, for some of them at least, it was all going to end today.

I shivered, and beside me Garret turned his head, a worried look on his face. “You all right?” he asked.

I nodded, shoving my worries, regrets and doubts to the back of my mind. “How much longer?”

He glanced at his watch. “Another fifteen minutes,” he murmured, making my stomach want to crawl up my throat. I shoved it down with the rest of my fears. “We’re nearly to the stopping point.”

And then, the hand that had been laced with mine disengaged, and he curled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. I didn’t resist, and he shifted slightly to draw me to his chest, wrapping both arms around me. I tucked my head under his chin and closed my eyes, knowing the hatchlings and dragonells were watching, not caring what they thought. Garret lay his cheek atop my head and tangled his fingers in my hair, but didn’t go any further than that. We held each other in silence, listening to our hearts thump quietly together.Last time, his pulse seemed to whisper to me.Last time, last time, last time.

The semi shuddered once and rumbled to a stop. I felt Garret take a deep breath, felt his arms tighten almost painfully for a moment, before he let me go and stood, the steely soldier’s mask falling into place. I rose, as well, and watched the others climb to their feet, their faces pale but determined.

The doors creaked open, and Riley stood there, eyes glowing yellow against the darkness. A pine-scented breeze drifted into the container, and I breathed in the fresh air as it drove away the smell of rust and fear and too many bodies packed in too small a space.

I hopped down from the truck, and my boots squelched in mud as I surveyed our surroundings. We were on a narrow dirt road in the middle of a vast forest, and with the upward cant of the ground, it felt like we were on a hill or mountainside. It was very quiet, and overhead the sky was still bright with stars.

Blinding lights announced the arrival of the other semi, and I winced, shielding my eyes until the massive truck stopped a few yards away and shut off the headlamps. As Martin dropped from the driver’s seat and walked toward us, Garret and Riley joined me at the edge of the road.

“All right,” Riley began as we gathered in a loose circle, two soldiers and two dragons—Martin and Garret, me and Riley. The rest of the hatchlings, dragonells and soldiers clustered around the trucks, waiting nervously, as the team commanders met for the last time. “We’re about five miles from the mining facility, according to Wes. This road goes to the front gates. Which means that the second entrance is around that peak, due west from the gates. If you head straight that way—” he nodded toward the forest “—you should walk right into it.”

“I have it marked on my GPS,” Garret said. “We’ll find it.”

Martin nodded and gazed up the road. “We’ll be waiting about a half mile from the front gates,” he said. “Barring complications, it should take you an hour to reach the second entrance. Radio us when you get there—that will be our signal to start the attack.”

“After that,” Riley added, “we’ll cause as much of a ruckus and buy as much time as we can for you to find the chamber with the army and blow it sky-high.”

I swallowed hard. Riley was counting on us, as were the rogues, the hatchlings, the dragonells and the rest of the Order. We couldn’t screw this up. We had to reach the vessels and destroy the army, otherwise the sacrifices of everyone here would be for nothing.

“We won’t fail,” Garret promised, echoing my sentiment. Riley gave a tired nod, as if wanting to believe him but knowing that we were probably going to lose a great deal before it was over.

“All right,” Martin said. “Then, if we all know what to do, I suppose there’s nothing left but to get this mission started. Sebastian…” He looked at Garret, an almost fatherly affection going through his eyes. “Be careful in there. Come back alive, if you can. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier answered quietly.

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