St. Anthony, I noted, was still watching Ember, who was kneeling by the soldier with his hand clasped tightly in her own. His eyes were conflicted, a tiny furrow creasing his brow. But then the man spoke again, his voice as hard and cold as ever.
“Take Sebastian and leave this place,” he said, stepping back. “The Order will not pursue, at least not today. But there will be a reckoning, dragon. And when that happens, I suggest you stay far away, or be consumed with the rest of your kind. Martin, St. Anthony,” he said, and walked toward the body of the Patriarch lying in the bloody salt a few yards away. The one called Martin followed immediately, but Tristan paused a moment, still staring at Ember before he, too, turned on a heel and marched off with his shoulders straight. Neither of them looked back.
I knelt, putting a hand on Ember’s arm and leaning close. “Wes is on his way,” I told her. “We’ll be out of here soon.”
She nodded without looking up. “Do you...do you think he’ll make it?” she whispered.
I didn’t want to upset her, but I didn’t want to lie, either. To give her false hope. “I don’t know, Firebrand,” I muttered. “He’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t know if that bullet hit anything vital, but...he’s not in a good place right now. I think you have to prepare yourself for the worst.” She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek as she bowed her head. My dragon stirred, and a bitter lump caught in my throat. I remembered her words as the soldier lay dying in her arms, the whispered confession as the human slipped into unconsciousness. And I knew she would never say those words to me.
Unless he was gone.
Sickened with myself and the dark, ugly thoughts of my inner dragon, I rose and walked away to scan the barren horizon.
So. The Patriarch was dead. We’d accomplished what we’d set out to do—not kill the man exactly, but expose him to the rest of the Order and break up the alliance between him and Talon. The organization could no longer pull the Order’s strings, because their prize puppet was out of the picture. This would throw St. George into chaos, and they would want retribution for the death of their leader, but at least they would be distracted for a while. And while they were figuring out what to do, I could move my network even deeper underground so we’d be well hidden for the inevitable retaliation.
But that still left Talon to deal with.
A chill went through me as I watched the sun creep slowly over the flats, staining the horizon red. Something was coming; I could feel it. Talon was out there, and killing the Patriarch would cause them to react, as well. Maybe that had been their plan all along. I felt like a pawn in a chess match—one who had just taken out the bishop, but then looked up and there was the queen, smiling at me from across the board.
I shook myself, frowning. I was getting paranoid. Even if Talon had expected this, our plans wouldn’t have changed. We would’ve had to expose the Patriarch regardless, and everything would still have led to this, with the leader of the Order dead, and the soldier who’d exposed him hovering between life and death in the bloodstained salt.
I looked back at Ember and the human, huddled together on the bleak, unforgiving flats. The soldier’s face was as white as the salt beneath him, half his blood, and probably a little of mine, already drying in the sun. Try not to die, St. George, I thought, startling myself. Things are going to get even crazier from here, and you’re not bad to have around when everything implodes. If Talon decides to come after us full scale, we’ll need all the help we can get. Plus, if you die now, Ember will never be able to forget you.
And I don’t want to compete with a damned ghost for the rest of my life.
I was flying.
The clouds stretched out below me, a rolling sea of white and gray that went on forever. Above me, the sky was a perfect, endless blue that made me dizzy to look at. I could feel the wind in my face, smelling of rain and mist, and the sun warming my back. How long had I been flying? I couldn’t remember, but it felt like an eternity and a heartbeat at the same time. Why was I up here? I was... I was looking for something, I think. Or chasing something.
Or something was chasing me.
A low rumble echoed behind me. I looked back to see a wall of black clouds boiling up from the white, spreading toward me with frightening speed. Chilled, I tried to fly faster, but the sky rapidly darkened and lightning flickered around me as the storm drew closer, filling the air with the smell of ozone.
Garret.
A voice shivered across the cloudscape, soft and female, making me falter. I knew that voice. Where was she? Why couldn’t I see her?
Garret, I’m here. Just hold on.
Where are you? I tried to call, but my voice had frozen inside me. At my back, the boiling wall of darkness loomed closer, streaks of lightning flashing in its depths.
How’s he doing? A different voice joined the first. Low and strangely familiar, it made something inside me bristle. I couldn’t remember the face, or what it had done, but a low growl rumbled through my chest before it died in my throat.
He’s fighting. The female voice sounded choked, making my stomach clench, too. His temperature is far higher than normal, and he’s been delirious the past few nights. Wes thinks his body is trying to adapt to the transfusion, and that it’s causing some weird side effects. But we really don’t know anything. She sniffed, and her voice went even softer. All we can do is wait, and hope that he comes out of it.
The other sighed. At least he’s still alive, Firebrand. I did the only thing I could think of.
I know.
Their voices faded, swallowed by the darkness and rising wind, and a stab of desperation shot through me. Wait, I wanted to shout, straining to hear her voice, to follow it until I found the person on the other side. Don’t go. Don’t leave me here.
No answer except the howling of the wind and the rumble of the storm at my back. Before me, the sky continued on, forever. Rolling gray clouds with no end in sight. Behind me, the dark wall boiled steadily closer, a wave swallowing everything in its path, filling the air with the tingle of electricity.
I suddenly realized what I had to do.
I twisted around to face the oncoming storm. For a split second, hanging upside down in midair, I caught a glimpse of my shadow in the clouds below, lean and sharp, with an elongated neck and wide, sweeping wings. Then I was rushing toward the wall of darkness. The clouds filled my vision as I shot into the flickering blackness, and everything around me disappeared.
* * *
I stumbled forward, and flames surrounded me, roaring in my ears. The entire warehouse was engulfed, tongues of flame curling around the iron beams and snapping hungrily at the aisles of crates and boxes. Everywhere I looked, there was fire, screaming and crackling, tinting everything in a hellish glow, but I wasn’t afraid. A nearby tower of pallets collapsed with a deafening roar, and a cloud of embers billowed into the air, swirling around me, but there was no discomfort or pain. I could feel the heat, smell the smoke and ashes settling in my lungs, but it didn’t bother me at all.
Firebrand?
That same voice, low and husky, drifted from one of the aisles. Ember, it said again, its tone laced with worry. You’ve been sitting here for eight hours. Go to sleep. Let me or Wes take watch—he’s not going anywhere.
No, said the voice that made my heart leap in my chest. I want to be here. When he wakes