Flight of the Dragon Read online

  Come home soon, Zara. The Treasure Trove just isn’t the same without you.

  Love, Carina.

  I blinked tears out of my eyes and gingerly put the letter aside before I accidentally ruined it. I missed the Treasure Trove and Carina, missed the old days where my most pressing concerns were keeping the shop running and deciding which treasures to track down next. It was true that my new life had solved most of my problems—the shop was booming, and many of my old orphan friends were employed—but being a dragon rider had also brought along a host of new ones.

  The more power and wealth you have, the more people will show up at your doorstep trying to wrench a piece of the pie from you. Salcombe’s words echoed in my head, and I shoved them aside with a low growl. I didn’t need any more of his advice, thank you very much.

  I opened Rhia’s letter next, hoping her words would cheer me up.

  Dear Zara, she wrote, her flowery script dancing across the page. I’d ask if you are well, but I have no doubt you and Lessie are doing just fine. The two of you have such fire in your souls that I doubt even a hailstorm could keep you down. I can’t wait for you to come back and show everyone what you’ve learned from Lord Tavarian.

  I smirked, wondering if I should write back and tell her that I got up close and personal with his abs today. Not that I thought there was any potential there, but the look on Rhia’s face would be absolutely priceless.

  A look that you won’t be able to see, I reminded myself.

  Things are going well here, Rhia continued. Aria is back, but after the stunt she pulled on you, most of her old clique won’t associate with her. There’s a lot less tension overall, and I’ve even made a few more friends with some of the girls from the older houses. I think your time here has shown them that class distinction doesn’t matter as much as they thought it did.

  I blinked in surprise at that. I knew I’d shaken things up during my time at the academy, but I hadn’t thought I’d made that much of a difference. The idea that I'd changed a few opinions, opened a few minds, gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling. But was it too good to be true? After all, these girls would be thrown into the Elantian army as soon as they were finished with their training and molded into whatever the military needed them to be.

  And so will I.

  I shook off the thought and kept reading.

  Unfortunately, the academy's atmosphere has started to get tense again. There are rumors we are headed off to war again, and that the older cadets will be drafted. Ykos and I are probably too young to be called, but Jallis and the other riders of his age will be summoned if his father can’t resolve things peacefully with Zallabar.

  I miss you, Zara, but I’m glad that you are far away from all this. Don’t come back too soon.

  Rhia.

  I set the letter on the table, my stomach churning. War with Zallabar? But I thought Tavarian had managed to calm things down. What changed? Had we done something to provoke them again? Anxiety brewed in my chest, making me antsy. What if Jallis and Rhia did get called off to war, while I was stuck here in this valley? Would I come back to find out my friends were dead, their bodies torn apart by cannon fire?

  I snatched up the Elantian paper, hoping to find answers. Poring through the articles, I quickly discovered that in the past two weeks, a General Richstein had taken over the Zallabarian government in a bloody coup. Evidently, he'd wanted to go to war with Elantia for years, and this latest change in plans from the current ruler had tipped him over the edge. My heart sank as I kept reading—apparently Richstein promised the Zallabarian citizens riches beyond their wildest dreams once they successfully conquered Elantia and took their revenge for past humiliations they'd suffered at our hands.

  “Miss Kenrook?” Tavarian’s voice jerked me out of the article, and I looked up. He stood at the head of the table, looking at me with concern. “Is everything all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Here.” I shoved the paper at him. “Read this article.”

  Tavarian’s silver eyes darted across the page. His expression went from mild concern to unpleasant surprise. By the time he’d finished reading, his eyes were simmering with frustration.

  “It would seem our efforts at peace have been sabotaged,” he said, sitting down in the chair. “I have met General Richstein before—he is a madman who cannot be reasoned with. If he has declared his intentions, it is only a matter of time before he acts on them.”

  I wanted to ask Tavarian more about the conflict, but he held up a hand, and instead attacked the pile of correspondence on his desk. Each letter he read seemed to groove more lines of worry into his brow, and by the time he was finished, his face was a hard mask.

  “This is worse than I’d feared,” he said, putting the last letter aside. “According to our intelligence department, the Zallabarian government has been mobilizing their forces and offering alliances to other countries that Elantia has offended in the past. There are quite a number of those, but thankfully most are still too small to risk involvement, even if they have a larger country like Zallabar on their side.”

  “But some are interested,” I said, reading between the lines.

  “Indeed, Traggar and Quoronis are in talks with Zallabar as we speak.”

  My blood went cold. Traggar was a country of blond, pale-skinned brutes who lived on a series of islands to the west, while Quoronis, a nation of passionate, dark-haired people, lived to the south of us. With Zallabar to the east, we were hemmed in on three sides.

  “We have to do something about this,” I said. My palms grew clammy at the thought of going to war with three countries. If all of them decided to attack at the same time, we were doomed, dragons or not. “I know how this is going to end—with our government sending out every single rider and able-bodied soldier to fight, even those of us whose dragons are still babies.” My blood sizzled at the thought of Lessie being thrown into battle only to be cut down before her life had even started.

  “I know that,” Tavarian said tersely. He drummed his long fingers on the tabletop, his lips pursed as he thought. “I have a decent relationship with the Foreign Minister of Quoronis, and some political leverage there for favors exchanged in the past. If I can neutralize them, our chances of survival will increase exponentially.”

  “Then we’ll have to go there,” I said. “When do we leave?”

  “We are not leaving,” Tavarian said grimly. “I am. You and Lessie will stay here, where it is safe, and continue your studies and training as best as you can until I get back.”

  “No way!” I slapped my hand on the table, indignant. “I’m not a child you can just leave behind, Tavarian. I’ve been to Quoronis plenty of times, and I know their culture well. Let me come along. Maybe I can help somehow.”

  “Even if you could help somehow, you would have to leave Lessie behind,” Tavarian said. “She is too inexperienced a flier to keep up with Muza and me, and I’m not sure she can even clear the cliffs yet. You know how important it is that I get to Quoronis post-haste.”

  “You’re not going to take an airship?” I scowled. I’d thought that Muza would stay behind with Lessie, but now that I knew he wasn’t, Tavarian had a point. I couldn’t leave Lessie here all by herself for days or even weeks on end. It wasn’t right, and I knew she wouldn’t do that to me.

  “No, Muza will be faster, especially as he will not have to make refueling stops along the way,” Tavarian said. “I’ve managed to perfect a sort of shielding spell, so he can drop me off without being seen before returning to his own home. I will return here by airship when I am finished.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. I didn’t like the idea of being stuck here in this valley, but I couldn’t risk Tavarian’s mission just because of my selfish desires. While I was decent at negotiating with traders and salesmen, politics and warfare were another matter entirely. Tavarian would be able to work better if he didn’t have to worry about me, and he’d already wasted weeks training me while the country slid dee
per and deeper into peril.

  The two of them left that night, and Lessie and I stood outside, watching as they disappeared into the darkness. “I don’t understand why Muza couldn’t just come back here after dropping Tavarian off,” Lessie said forlornly. “He says he was supposed to return home for a week anyway, so he could attend to other matters, but what sort of obligations does a free dragon have?”

  “You’ve got me,” I said, petting her flank. I wondered if maybe there was more to this secret place of Muza’s than he or Tavarian had let on, but I doubted I would find out anytime soon. I wasn’t going to push, either—the fact that Tavarian had trusted Lessie and me with Muza’s secret was an honor. Even if I was bound to silence, Lessie wasn’t, and she could tell the other dragons about Muza when we returned home. She wouldn’t, of course, but Tavarian didn’t know that for sure. Lessie was a young dragon, after all.

  Lessie was so forlorn about Muza’s absence that I stayed with her in the stables until she fell asleep. The warmth of her body lulled me into falling asleep as well, and I woke up the next morning with a crick in my neck.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” I said, nudging her big head. She let out a rumble, and I chuckled when she buried her face into the hay—the equivalent of putting a pillow over her head. I decided to let her be, so I walked out into the morning sunshine and stretched my arms over my head. I had a feeling Lessie was going through another growth spurt and needed the extra sleep.

  The smell of grass and earth and flowering trees lulled me deeper into the forest, and I decided to go for a walk to clear my head and stretch my muscles. I wasn’t ready to go back to the Hall—I already knew I would feel Tavarian’s absence the moment I stepped inside. He and Muza had become part of our lives these past few weeks, and I’d taken their companionship for granted.

  Maybe I’ll spend the day exploring, I told myself. After all, Tavarian wasn’t around to tell me what to do. Who said I had to spend the whole time training? It had been a good while since I’d last exercised my treasure hunting abilities, and there were bound to be a few items hanging around a place like this.

  I closed my eyes and activated my treasure sense, spreading it as far as it could go in the hopes that I could pick up something. I immediately picked up on something about half a mile away. Using the trick Tavarian had taught me, I called up an image of it.

  “A stone statue,” I muttered, focusing. “Three feet tall. Pre-Plague, maybe?”

  “Good,” a familiar voice said from behind me, smug and sinister all at once. “I’m glad to see your senses are still sharp. You’re going to need them.”

  I spun around, reaching for the weapon at my hip, but it wasn’t there. A blinding flash of light hit me straight in the face, and I was plunged into a deep, black darkness.

  5

  The repetitive sound of a whirring propeller jabbed at my consciousness, reluctantly dragging me from sleep. Keeping my eyes closed, I reached out with my other senses, trying to get an idea of where I was. The air around me was cold, and I could hear someone breathing. My clothes were still on, and there was a cushion underneath me, like the kind on a bench seat.

  “How long will it take to reach Jedburgh?” Salcombe’s voice was faint, as if it came from the other end of a long room, but clear as day.

  “Another day, sir,” a male voice answered. “But we should be able to do it with only one stop for fuel.”

  "Good," Salcombe said. "The fewer stops, the better, now that we have the girl on board."

  The girl. A spurt of anger filled me, and I resisted the urge to fist my hands at my sides. I’d spent half my life as the closest thing he had to a daughter, and in the span of a few short months, I’d been reduced to “the girl.” If I wasn’t pretending to be asleep, I would have taken the nearest object and chucked it at his rotten head.

  But I forced myself to push my anger aside and focus on the words. Jedburgh. Wracking my muddled brain, I remembered it was a small town in western Zallabar. Dragon’s balls. We were headed into enemy territory?

  I reached out to Lessie through the bond, hoping we were still within range. To my relief, I could sense her, though her presence was faint.

  “Zara?” Lessie’s frantic voice burst into my mind. “Zara, what happened? Where ARE you? I woke up and you were GONE!”

  “It’s Salcombe,” I told her, trying not to let her panic rile me up. But the hairs on my arms stood up on end, and my skin prickled. “He and his men must have snuck into the valley overnight, after Tavarian left. They jumped me while I was taking a walk in the woods. I think they used a spell to knock me out before I could call for help.”

  Lessie let out a string of curses so foul, they would have been amusing if not for my current predicament. “I’m going to kill him,” she fumed. “The next time I get a clear shot at him, the old bastard is mine.”

  “Don’t do anything crazy,” I warned, a little alarmed at the fury roiling in her. I wasn’t surprised that Lessie was angry, but she was seeing red, the type of rage that eroded common sense. “Salcombe has me in an airship, I think. He seems to be taking me to Zallabar, though I don’t know why.”

  “Are you done speaking to your dragon yet?”

  My eyes flew open at Salcombe's cool voice. He was sitting on the bench seat across from me with a cup of tea in his hand, looking as calm and composed as if we were sitting in his garden. I glared at him, and the corners of his mouth curled into a distinctive smirk.

  “Your breathing changed,” he said as I pushed myself into a sitting position. “And there are goosebumps on your arms. You’ve been awake for the past five minutes.”

  “I’m amazed you haven’t bound and gagged me,” I muttered, rubbing my aforementioned arms to ward off the chill I felt. While the man sitting in front of me was more like the Salcombe I knew growing up, the madman who’d punched me in the nose lurked beneath the surface. Had Salcombe’s wasting illness driven him to the breaking point, or was it the World Eater himself whispering tainted promises in his ear?

  Salcombe shrugged. "And why should I? You're no threat to me." He flexed his hand, shattering the teacup he held. Blood and tea dribbled down his arm as bits of china rained to the floor, and a hulking man dressed in black with knives strapped all over his body immediately sprang into action, grabbing a rag to clean up the mess.

  "Are you crazy?" I shouted, then gaped as the half-dozen cuts in his palm vanished. "What…how…?"

  “The dragon god’s heart gives me power,” Salcombe said smugly. “And this is only from a single piece. Can you imagine what I could do with all five?”

  “You mean aside from raining death and destruction upon the entire world?” I said, glaring at him. At the same time, I opened up my treasure sense, searching for the piece of heart. To my surprise, it wasn’t anywhere near the airship.

  “Oh, Zara.” Salcombe heaved a sigh of disappointment. “Your lack of imagination has always been your greatest weakness. Zakyiar isn’t going to destroy the entire world. In fact, the two of us have grand plans for it. And you could be a part of them, if you weren’t so stubborn.”

  “I’m flattered,” I said, crossing my arms. “Now can you please tell me what the hell you want, so I can refuse?”

  Salcombe curled his lip. “It’s a pity I never managed to cure you of your flippant attitude. But I suppose that’s what I get for taking in a street rat. As far as what I want,” he said before I could snarl at him, “you already know I’m after the other pieces of the heart. And unless you want you and your dragon to die, you are going to help me find them.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. This again. “Salcombe, threatening Lessie’s and my lives isn’t much of an incentive when your endgame is to bring back a dragon god that literally devours worlds. You’re basically giving me a choice between dying now or dying later.”

  Salcombe’s eyes glittered. “While I would be the first to admit you do not deserve a second chance, I cannot refute the logic in your words. Very well, if y
ou need an incentive, I shall give you one. Help me find the rest of the pieces, and I will ensure that you and Lessie survive the coming fallout. If you prove your loyalty now, I will ensure that you have a place by Zakyiar’s side. Betray me, and when I finally resurrect him, I will ensure that you and Lessie become his playthings for a very, very long time.”

  I shuddered at that. I didn't know what it meant to become the plaything of a blood-thirsty, amoral dragon god, but I was confident I didn't want to find out. "Fine," I lied. "I'll help you." I might as well play along while I figured out what to do. Maybe I could find an escape window while we were traveling. It would certainly be better than allowing myself to be tortured and killed.

  “By the way,” Salcombe said in a silky voice, “if you are thinking about trying to find a way to escape, don’t bother.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lock of red hair. “I took a few clippings from you the first time I kidnapped you and purchased a spell from a mage to trace you through your hair.”

  My stomach dropped. “Is that how you managed to find me in the valley?”

  “Indeed.” He gave me a smile that was pure malice. “So long as I have these locks of hair, I can find you anywhere, Zara. And the next time I have to come and collect you, I won’t be nearly so nice.”

  Salcombe returned the lock of hair to his pocket, and it took everything I had not to lunge across the space and strangle him. But the hulking brute who seemed to be part mercenary, part manservant watched me with a hungry stare, as if he would like nothing better than an excuse to put his meaty hands on me.

  No thanks, I thought, returning his stare with a cool one of my own. He gave me a wolfish grin that sent icy shivers up my spine, and it took everything I had not to immediately look away. Damn. If only I had my weapons with me, or even my supply belt!