2.Even if I could be certain Aaru wouldn’t feel the noorestone fire, Altan would still be able to kill him. The knife would cut quickly.
3.And if I used noorestones against any of the other three warriors, Altan would kill Aaru.
My shoulders dropped. If Aaru was to survive this, my only option was to let Altan say whatever he’d come to say.
“Good.” The warrior’s gaze flickered beyond me—to Kursha and Seven. “But before we begin: who are they?”
“She’s the ship’s medic,” I said. “He’s a patient.”
“What is his name?” Altan’s tone grew harder.
“He’s just a patient.” My heart thundered in my ears, but I wouldn’t betray Seven’s trust. For all that he was an imperial spy, he seemed like a good man, and there was so much more I needed to talk to him about.
Anahera, Anahera, Anahera . . . How could they?
Behind me, Kursha’s rough voice came in quiet monotone. “He’s dead.”
Aaru and I locked eyes. If Seven was gone, then so were the rest of our answers.
Altan glanced at one of the other warriors—a compact young woman with the Drakon Warrior claw pinned to her jacket. “Confirm it.”
She edged around me and felt for Seven’s pulse. “Dead.”
I swallowed back a wave of unexpected sadness, forcing my expression calm and neutral.
“All right. Put the medic with the rest of them.” Altan jerked his head toward the door. Then, to the other two warriors, he said, “Stand guard outside. Make sure no one comes in.”
“Sir—”
Altan grinned. “Trust me, I know this girl. She won’t take a step while I have him.”
Kursha spared me only a worried glance as the warriors escorted her from the room. Where were they taking her? Where were the others? If they were dead, I’d—
Even as the thought struck me, I realized the noise of fighting had gone quiet. Any resistance the crew had mounted was already crushed beneath the boots of Altan’s warriors.
The knife on Aaru drew my gaze once more.
Four people: one warrior, one hostage, one dead spy, and one me.
Five noorestones, but zero that I could use.
One honed blade against tender skin.
“All it takes,” Altan said, “is a gentle pressure at the right angle and in the right location.”
“All what takes?” I asked.
“Cutting.” He smiled. “And controlling.”
“Is that why you came here? To control me?” I squashed the quaver in my voice. Fear wouldn’t save Aaru, nor would it save anyone else on this ship. But there was something terrifying about him ordering the others to leave—as though their presence might have provided me some measure of protection.
“I came here because I think you could be useful.”
“Speak, then.” I straightened my shoulders, feigning bravery because what else did I have?
“In the Pit,” Altan said, “I told you about the Mira Treaty. What it really is.” He paused a beat. “Do you recall?”
Anahera, Anahera, Anahera.
Betrayal sliced deep into my bones. When I’d thought it was the empire, I’d been angry. Terrified. But at least it had made sense.
Altan had asked a question. I needed to answer—for Aaru’s sake. “Of course,” I said.
He nodded. “Good.”
Aaru’s gaze was fixed beyond me—on Seven’s body, no doubt. I didn’t look to confirm, because the last thing we needed was for Altan to ask more questions about the spy. But when I shifted my weight to one hip, Aaru’s eyes flickered over to me.
Slowly, deliberately, I pulled my arms up so my palms cupped my elbows, and there, almost casually, I tapped. ::Hate cannot abide where many stand in love.::
Though Aaru said nothing—not in quiet code and certainly not aloud—when he looked at me again, a deep warmth shone through.
::Courage,:: I told Aaru. And to Altan, I said, “What about the treaty?”
“I didn’t come about the treaty. I came about the empire.” Altan’s eyes narrowed. “Have faith, Hopebearer. The empire will not rule the Fallen Isles without going through the Drakon Warriors. We will fight them.”
“Will the tribunal allow your war?” I tilted my head in curiosity. “The leaders of Khulan signed the treaty, same as every other island.”
“I will deal with the Warrior Tribunal.” His voice was a low growl. A threat and a promise, both.
The question shivered out of me before I could stop it. “Did you deal with the Luminary Council?”
Altan raised an eyebrow. “Do you truly want that answer?”
That was confirmation enough.
“I thought so.” His grin pulled at the burn. “The Drakon Warriors have fought the mainland kingdoms before, you know. Two thousand years ago, a group called the Celestial Warriors rode great dragons across the ocean and set fire to their kingdoms until stone ran like water.”
Gerel had told that story back on Khulan; it hadn’t had a happy ending for the dragons.
“We will be victorious again,” Altan said, “but this time we will not stop at the coasts: we will burn the entire Algotti Empire into ash.”
“How?” I whispered. “They are bigger than us. Older, some say.” Maybe it wasn’t wise to question him while his knife still touched Aaru’s throat, but I couldn’t suck back the words. They were out, and I had to commit to a show of strength. “How do you hope to succeed?”
“With your help.”
“Why would I help you?”
“Because you don’t want to be ruled by the empire any more than I do, Fancy. And, though the treaty named after you is a lie, you could fight to make it true.”
“Your fight will fail.” I lowered my hands to my sides, forcing Anahera from my mind. If I wasn’t willing to share that information with Altan—and I was not, at least until I talked to the others—I needed to pretend as though I still believed the Algotti Empire was responsible. “While in Crescent Prominence, I spoke to my parents about the treaty.”
Darkness crept into Altan’s eyes, but the knife didn’t so much as twitch in his hand. Which meant he understood that if he ever wanted my help, he could not harm Aaru. Not again.
“My father said that all the islands signed the treaty because they knew there was no possibility of us winning a war. The Warrior Tribunal agreed to that.” I shook my head. “Perhaps the Drakon Warriors fought off a few kingdoms two thousand years ago, but that isn’t a possibility anymore. They are an empire now. Dragons are disappearing every day. The Great Abandonment is an ever-present threat.”
Muscles ticked around Altan’s jaw. “If you think my plan is to rush in with a raised mace, then you’re not as clever as I believed you were.”
“I don’t know what your plan is, Altan.” I shook my head. “You’ve tried to kill my friends and me, you might have just slaughtered the Luminary Council and everyone inside their building, and now you’ve attacked my ship. But you also want my help. Why should I care?”
“Because that plan involves dragons.” Anger gleamed on the edges of his voice. “And if there is one thing you and I share, it is our dedication to dragons.”
My heart leaped, and five noorestones around the room flared.
Aaru met my eyes.
“I’ve learned the location of all the dragons that will be shipped to the empire.” Altan released a long breath, and some of his rage. “I intend to free them.”
“Is that so?” I kept my voice low and careful. “You know where they are?”
“They’re on Anahera. We’re heading there right now.”
A shudder ran deep through me, but I forced my tone calm. “That’s a big island.”
“And I know exactly where they are located—until tomorrow morning.” He licked his lips, his tongue scraping over one of the burned places. “You’re right that resisting the empire will not be easy. They outnumber us, and even our own governments will not help. But my fellow Drakon W
arriors and I don’t intend to let this move forward without a fight. First, we prevent these dragons from being sent to the mainland. You and I will do that together.”
Would we? There was no trusting Altan. I knew that. But dragons . . .
“Meanwhile, other Drakon Warriors stationed around the islands are working to free dragons from the traitorous sanctuaries.”
Free them, he’d said. Not rescue them. Because rescuing dragons implied there was somewhere safe to take them. But there was no true sanctuary for dragons anymore, not with this twisted version of the Mira Treaty in effect.
Even if the spy had been honest and the empire wasn’t actually behind the lie of the treaty, dragons were still being taken because of it. But if we freed them . . .
“I’ve seen what you can do with dragons,” Altan went on. “Kelsine. The titanus. I heard what you did on the docks of the Shadowed City—how you were given the title of Dragonhearted.”
“Then you know that I am more powerful than you.”
His glare hardened into granite, and for three heart-pounding seconds, I thought that might have been too much. But the knife was perfectly still over Aaru’s throat. “I know that my chance of success goes up if you are there.”
I closed my eyes and listened, just for a heartbeat. I listened to the muttered conversation of the guards posted outside, to the sigh of water against the hull, and to the soft tapping of quiet code.
::I trust you,:: Aaru said.
“My offer won’t last forever, Fancy.” Sharp annoyance cut Altan’s words.
When I caught Aaru’s eye, he flashed an encouraging smile.
I knew what I had to do.
“What offer?” I drew myself up tall and took one step toward Altan. Then a second. A third. I stood close enough to feel the heat of Aaru’s body, see a fragment of my face in the knife’s polished surface, and count the small scars clustered on Altan’s temple. “I understand why you need me to free dragons, warrior, but why do I need you?”
Alarm shot through Aaru’s expression, but he remained motionless.
Altan was a mask of barely contained fury. “I know where the dragons are, Hopebearer. I know exactly where they are—right now.” He glared down at me. “You could go to Anahera and search, but they’ll be moved tomorrow morning and then even I won’t be able to find them before they’re moved again and again—eventually to the empire.”
They would never be moved to the empire, if Seven was right. They would stay in the Fallen Isles, growing sicker and sicker in their captivity. And when they died, and the number of dragons fell yet again, we’d be even closer to the Great Abandonment.
“I have something else,” Altan said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Tirta and Elbena.”
Noorestones fluttered, not with surprise, but rage. The impostor. The traitor. Without asking permission, my left hand lifted up to touch the scar on my cheek.
“And,” Altan went on, “I have Kelsine.”
That named softened me. My heart stuttered as echoes of her anguished cries welled up from my memory. I’d hated leaving her, and Altan knew it. “Where is she?”
“Help me free the dragons in Anahera,” he said. “Then we’ll discuss the others. One thing at a time.”
“That’s your plan, then?” I pushed strength into my voice, as though that might hide the pounding of my heart. “Hold everything over my head until I agree to help you?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
A pinprick of sadness stung my heart. While I had grown over the last months, Altan was no different from before. He’d adjusted course and changed tactics as necessary, but only as far as it didn’t challenge his belief: that he was the hero in this era of the Fallen Isles.
“I’m not the same girl you tortured in the Pit,” I said. “I am powerful, not because someone else declared it so, but because I claimed my power. That’s why you’re here: to borrow my power. Because you saw it in the mess that’s left in the Pit. You saw it in the tunnel. And you see it now.”
It was easy to touch the nearby noorestones. When I called for just a hint of their fire, a white-blue nimbus flickered around my fingertips.
Altan glanced at my hands.
“Let Aaru go,” I said.
His eyes remained on the corona of light dancing between my fingers. “You’ll kill me the moment I do.”
“If you want to work with me,” I said, “then you’ll have to trust me. But as you said, time is short. The dragons will be moved in the morning, won’t they? You decide if we make it there in time.”
He hesitated.
I didn’t blink.
Slowly.
Slowly.
The knife lowered.
Aaru slipped out of Altan’s grasp, moving to the safety of my side. One hand rested on the small of my back, and it took everything in me to resist wrapping him in my arms. We weren’t finished.
“Satisfied?” Altan cocked his head.
“No.” I gathered my courage. If I showed any weakness now, I was done. He needed to know that I meant what I said. Slowly, deliberately, I pressed the pads of my fingers to the flat sides of his knife. “I want you to surrender.”
Altan’s knuckles paled around the hilt. “What?”
“Surrender.” Five noorestones flared brighter, and I pushed heat through the steel blade. It didn’t burn me, but he would feel it.
“Why should I surrender?” He readjusted his grip on the hilt. “I’ve already taken the ship.”
“And yet you came for my help. You can’t free those dragons without me. You can’t repel the empire without me.” Threads of noorestone fire whispered around my hands, traveling deeper into the blade. “We are not equals, Altan. You know you’ve done too much to ever win me to your side. How could I ever trust you after all of that? So you will surrender to me, and you will do what I want.”
“And what do you want?” Though it must have been painfully hot, he didn’t release the knife.
“I want to free those dragons,” I said. “I want to bring truth to the Mira Treaty. I can do it without you, but I will allow you to help.”
::Are you sure?:: Aaru tapped against my spine.
No, but an opportunity spread before us. If I didn’t seize it, who would?
Back in the safe house, I’d told Ilina I didn’t want to hide. But somehow all my running had become a way of hiding. How could I call myself the Hopebearer if I didn’t move forward? How could I call myself Dragonhearted if I didn’t face my fears?
I was finished running. Finished hiding. And as Altan searched my face for signs of weakness, I smiled wide enough to show teeth. My scar pulled with the motion, but let him see it. Let him remember what I had survived.
After all, noorestones, the very bones of our world, bent to my will. And dragons, the children of the gods, heard the movements of my soul.
I was more powerful than Altan.
And to demonstrate, I released the noorestones. Heat faded from the knife, and something shifted behind Altan’s eyes.
“Surrender,” I repeated.
“Very well.” The Drakon Warrior handed me his weapon. “I surrender.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE REST HAPPENED VERY QUICKLY:
1.Altan ordered his warriors off the Chance Encounter. They complained, and he tried to keep a few at his side, but I was not willing to negotiate. So, one by one, they took to the rowboats—likely how they’d gotten to us undetected—and returned to the Falcon, carrying Altan’s instructions to resume their previous course.
2.Miraculously, none of the Chance Encounter’s people had been killed or even severely wounded. They’d been bound and gagged, and upon release a few said it was almost as though the warriors had been under orders not to kill them. Those with injuries visited Kursha while the rest hurried us on our way to Anahera.
3.I told Captain Pentoba and One that we needed to get there as quickly as possible—tonight, if we wanted a shot at savi
ng the dragons—so the first mate immediately retreated to his quarters with maps and charts and a handful of other tools. He claimed that by using the time and distance we’d traveled after Crescent Prominence, he could calculate how long I’d need to push the ship’s noorestone tonight.
4.After relieving Altan of all his remaining weapons, Gerel bound his wrists and ankles together, then dropped him into the same secret compartment we’d hidden in when he’d come looking for us in the port of Lorn-tah. It was empty, with not even a blanket to keep him warm, but it was the only safe place to put him for now.
The six of us—plus two small dragons—were packed away in the captain’s office, perched on and around the desk. Not only could we monitor the trapdoors that led down to Altan, but it was bigger than the tiny cabin four of us had been sharing with my sister. (Plus, she was still in there, and this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in her presence.)
Hugging LaLa close to my heart, I told the others everything that happened after dinner. Gerel and Aaru added their thoughts every so often, but for the most part—in a feat that must have been especially painful for Ilina and Chenda—no one interrupted as I described the discussions with Seven and Altan.
“Anahera?” Ilina’s voice was small. Crystal perched on her shoulder, jesses dangling down to Ilina’s elbow. With Hush still nearby, we wanted to keep both raptuses in their gear. Just the presence of their harnesses made them behave like well-trained hunters, rather than the little delinquents they actually were. “You’re sure he said Anahera?”
Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t said Anahera’s name. But he hadn’t corrected me when I did. “I am sure,” I said carefully, “that he meant Anahera. Whether or not that is true . . .”
My wingsister closed her eyes.
“We should attack them.” Gerel beat a pale-knuckled fist on the desk, making everyone jump. “Get the big dragon and set her loose on Flamecrest—”
“No!” I squeezed LaLa so hard she squeaked. “I won’t use Hush as a weapon. Besides, we must assume the people of Anahera are innocent. They shouldn’t be punished for the actions of their leaders.”