It takes a moment, but when Lenhale comes into view, I see smoke surrounding the castle turrets. My heart thumps in alarm. In my lifetime, in all Destrin’s lifetime, and the dragonmaster’s before him, the capital has never suffered an attack. I wonder if it’s sorcerers from Grendu, until I realize that there’s a massive dragon circling the city, and his scales flash yellow in the sunlight.
Nilak screams in outrage. The wild flare has dared come to Lenhale.
I can’t understand why my dragons aren’t retaliating. There are a handful in the skies, but they seem to be riderless, in distress, and fearful of the wild flare. It’s not until I pass over the dragongrounds that I realize why.
A dragon lays in the dust with his throat torn out. The flare’s Alpha is dead. There’s no mistaking Pollex’s vast form. His wings are broken, which means he was airborne when he was attacked, and he crashed to earth.
No wonder the dragons are panicking, but my dragons vastly outnumber the wild ones, and they must be reminded that they’re not toothless, even though they have lost their Alpha. Nilak screams, drawing their attention and rallying them against our attackers.
There’s a dark red Alpha disgorging fire over the city. Nilak streaks toward it. Opening her jaws, she seizes one of the dragon’s back legs in her teeth, and at the same time, she twists her head. I hear the bone in the dragon’s leg break. It roars in pain, which ceases the stream of fire from its throat.
Nilak banks around, and we search for Golden Terror. If he can be driven off, the rest of his flare will leave. An orange Alpha flies straight for Nilak. She twists in the air, turning me upside down in the saddle for a moment, but I know it’s coming, and I hold on tight.
While the orange dragon is surprised, Nilak slashes her talons along its flank. Blood sprays over us, drenching her white scales and my white riding clothes with crimson.
But where is Golden Terror? He must be here. He won’t have left his flare behind.
Then we spot him. He’s pouring dragonfire over the dragongrounds, preventing our flare from landing and collecting their riders.
There’s a massive black shadow atop the cliffs. Scourge roars and launches himself at the yellow giant. He rips a massive, plate-like scale from the enemy dragon’s back. Golden Terror roars in fury and pain, and blood pours from the wound. He flies over the dragongrounds once more and then seems to decide he’s had enough for today. With a roar, he heads east, and the other dragons follow him.
I give chase on Nilak, making sure the wild dragons don’t change their minds and return. Just before Lenhale disappears behind us, Nilak gives one last warning roar, and then banks and heads for home.
Lenhale is in chaos when we return. Some of the dragons have returned to the ground where their riders are waiting for them, but others are still flying in circles. Parts of the city are in flames, and I feel a thread of alarm as I realize which streets are ablaze. One of the houses below me is Alin’s home. Zenevieve’s home.
Put me down here, I urge Nilak.
There’s no space for her to land in the cramped streets of Lenhale, but she flies as close as she can to the ground while I climb down her side and then jump. I hit the ground and roll before getting to my feet and running through the streets.
Alin’s home has been completely engulfed in flames. People have formed chains from the wells to the burning structure and are passing buckets of water as fast as they can.
I grab the nearest person by the shoulders. “Where is the family who lives here?”
The man, who is covered in soot, tells me, “Inside. A man just went back in for his mate.”
The fire roars like a wild dragon. They’re all inside? It takes a great deal of fire to kill a Maledinni, but an inferno like this can be fatal. As I watch, there’s a cracking sound from withinthe house, and the interior seems to collapse. Sparks erupt from every door and window.
Alin. Cariss.Zenevieve. I pull my cloak up over my head and hurry toward the doorway. If they’re trapped, I can drag them out.
Before I can enter, a figure stumbles out of the flames. Even burned and blistered, I recognize him. “Alin!”
I catch him as he crumples to the ground. Blood is pouring from his scalp, and his flesh is torn. It looks as though his skull has been cracked by a falling beam.
“I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t even find her,” he moans.
“Are you talking about Zenevieve? She’s still inside?”
“Cariss,” he wheezes. “Zenevieve went to the Flame Temple hours ago.”
Relief pours through me. The Temple Mothers will have kept everyone safely inside during the attack.
But my relief turns to sorrow as I gaze at Alin. Cariss has perished, and from the look of him, it’s doubtful that Alin will survive.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it. I must think of Zenevieve. Her brothers…” Alin breaks off and coughs. “Her brothers will take her in, but she will be far from Lenhale.”
I know from Alin’s letters that they have no interest in Lenhale or dragons. They have families of their own, and they won’t want to uproot themselves for Zenevieve. She’s the most promising young dragonrider I’ve ever trained. It would break her heart to leave. “She should stay here.”
There are barracks for dragonriders, and it’s not unheard of for trainees to reside there. But they can be rough places, and while Zenevieve is brave, she can become intimidated by all the noisy Alphas. She should have room to breathe. A place where she can be happy, not orphaned and forgotten about and left all on her own. I won’t let that happen to her.
