He snorted a laugh and began walking away, back toward the maze of ruined stone and crumbling towers. Pebbles bounced and vibrations ran up my legs as Ouroboros drew away, his long tail swaying behind him. “I have been patient for three hundred years,” he said without looking back. “I can be patient awhile longer. Go to the island. Free the breeder females, if you can. We will see if you are successful, or if Talon proves to be too much for you to handle, after all. Perhaps you will die, and Talon will continue their plans unopposed. Maybe all of this will have been for nothing.”
He turned a corner, sliding behind stone walls and jungle foliage, until only his tail was left. His final words echoed as the tail disappeared, and the ancient Wyrm vanished back into legend and rumor.
“But maybe not.”
“I have a task for you, Dante.”
I stood in the Elder Wyrm’s office, waiting silently as the CEO of Talon finished whatever was on her computer and turned to me with piercing green eyes. Even now, after numerous meetings, being summoned to her side, knowing my heritage and carrying out her orders, that ancient, unyielding stare could still make my knees tremble and my insides squirm in terror. I was getting better at controlling it, though, to appear calm and poised as the heir to Talon should be. Now, I politely averted my gaze and nodded, keeping my voice deferent but calm, to let her know I was suited for whatever task she required.
“Of course. What would you have me do?”
My heart pounded. This would be my chance to redeem myself, to make up for my failure and inability to complete the last mission, which was the complete destruction of St. George’s Western Chapterhouse. Victory should have been assured; the Order was in shambles with the death of the Patriarch, and they’d cut themselves off from each other as a result. We had greater numbers and surprise on our side; we should have completely wiped them out, to the last man. Ironically, I had failed because of my own sister’s interference; her sudden arrival with Cobalt and a small army of rogue dragons was enough to turn the tide and save a handful of soldiers. Enemy soldiers. Soldiers of the Order of St. George, who had hunted dragons toward extinction for hundreds of years. Why Ember was helping our sworn enemies I had no idea, but lately my sibling’s actions had been so frustrating and completely unreasonable that I wondered if it was just to spite me and give Talon the middle finger.
It didn’t matter in the long run. The Order had still been broken; they were no longer a threat to Talon or any of our operations. But because of Ember, the Elder Wyrm’s faith in me had been shaken. And that was something I could not forgive. I had worked too hard, and come too far, to lose this position because my reckless, defiant twin refused to cooperate.
I was almost to the top. One more step, and then I would truly be free.
“Our enemies have been scattered to the winds,” the Elder Wyrm said, rising from her seat. “The Order of St. George threatens us no more. But there are still dragons out there who refuse to ally with Talon. Cobalt and his rogues have proved surprisingly resilient, though they will not be able to stand against us much longer.
“However...” The Elder Wyrm turned and walked to the window, observing the city below as she often did. “There are other dragons, older, very powerful dragons, who could be instrumental in the coming conflicts. We have received word that a few Eastern dragons survived the Night of Fang and Fire, that their lairs were empty when our forces came for them. It is likely that the Eastern dragon who currently aids Cobalt and Ember was able to warn them of the attack, which is another small thorn that must be removed. So be it.” She turned from the window, fixing me with a piercing stare. “Dante, you will go to China, to the council of Eastern dragons, and you will give them a message. Join Talon, or die. There will be no compromise.”
My mouth went dry. Destroying the Order of St. George was one thing. Threatening an entire race of dragons, especially when they simply wished to be left alone, was another. I forced myself to speak calmly. “Of course. Although, if I may, the Eastern dragons have long been known for their reclusiveness and their unwillingness to take part in the war. Would it not be better to leave them alone, rather than expend lives and resources to hunt them down?”
“Perhaps.” The Elder Wyrm turned back to the window, looking thoughtful. “Certainly, the Eastern dragons would prefer to remain neutral and unopposed, as they always have. But that time is done. All dragons must unite under one banner, one organization. We offered to make a place for the Eastern dragons before and they refused, but now they have seen our strength, and they know they cannot stand against us. I would prefer to have our proud cousins willingly join our cause, but if they do not, they declare themselves enemies of not only Talon, but the rest of dragonkind. We cannot have any opposition in this new world we are creating, Dante. There can be no loose threads hanging in the wind, not this late in the game. No, you will stand before the Eastern council, and you will deliver Talon’s message. This is their final chance. Be certain that they understand.”
I took a furtive breath and nodded. “It will be done.”
The Elder Wyrm turned from the window, and her eyes glittered as she continued to regard me across the room. “This is a test for you, as well, Dante,” she said quietly, making my stomach curl and my pulse thud in my ears. “The Eastern council is comprised of the oldest, most powerful dragons in all of China. You will be far from home, far from the protection of Talon. And the Night of Fang and Fire has decimated their numbers. They will be angry. Neutrality and pacifism aside, they are still dragons—they will want revenge for themselves and their people. If you speak to them as a mere hatchling, demanding they join us or die, they will destroy you without a thought. And neither I nor anyone in Talon will be able to save you.”
I felt a stab of very real fear, imagining myself surrounded by ancient dragons, eyes blazing with anger and hate as they loomed over me. If even one of them decided to end the life of Talon’s representative, there would be nothing I could do about it. Even taking Gila bodyguards would be useless against dragons that old and powerful; they would crush us all without a thought.
“However,” the Elder Wyrm went on, “you are not a mere hatchling. You are the heir to Talon, the prince of an empire, and the Voice of the Elder Wyrm. If you convince them of that, they will not dare to touch you.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she turned and walked back to her desk, her final words causing a chill to settle at the base of my spine. “Now go, and take Talon’s message to the Eastern council. We will see if you are truly worthy of your title.”
“This is bloody impossible, Riley.” Wes sighed.
I glared at him. The six of us—myself, Ember, St. George, Mist, Jade and Wes—stood in what had once been the tornado shelter of the old farmhouse. It had been repurposed as the command center, mostly because it was the only room that could fit four dragons, a hacker and a soldier of St. George without curious hatchlings wandering in. And that was a good thing, because my temper was running very short, and I was likely to snap at the first teenager who poked his head in wanting to know what we were doing.
The rest of the trip from Brazil had been uneventful. No ambushes, no vessels or agents of Talon leaping out to kill us in the middle of the jungle. No ancient Wyrm swooping in to swallow us in one bite. Though Ember had ranted a bit about spending more time in airport lines than the meeting with Ouroboros. We’d left the Amazon, caught a ride back to civilization and flown home as quickly as we could. I’d arrived at the farmhouse half dreading Talon had already come and that nothing remained but charred, blackened skeletons of both buildings and hatchlings in their wake. But nearly everything was as I left it, and everyone was accounted for: twelve hatchlings,