Out on open water, dark clouds pressed low, swallowing the stars. A dense weight settled in the air, wind thick with storm-salt. At the prow, I kept my eyes on the horizon. Dread sat heavy on my shoulders, silence anchoring me in place.
I scanned the sky until it blurred. Listened for wingbeats. For a distant cry. For anything.
When the first drops of rain kissed my cheeks, they mingled with tears I couldn’t hold back. If Mother had been there, she might have stopped him, tempered his fire.
But she wasn’t.
Instead, I searched the dark for a black dragon.
Kallias stayed near, his presence a barrier against the sea’s howl. Rain plastered my hair to my face as the waves bucked beneath us. When water breached the deck, he took my hand, pulled me below.
His arms wrapped around me. Heat seeped through chilled skin. One heartbeat steadying another, chasing away my dread.
Small red-painted ships blocked our path to Draconia. Cannons lined their decks, harpoons glinting along the rails, sharp and waiting. Sails waved in the breeze, a golden banner slashed by a crimson scythe snapping at their peaks.
“They think they can cut us off?” I scoffed. How could they? Just men in boats—until I scanned the sky and my stomach soured.
No dragons.
“Where are your riders?” Kallias’ calculating gaze locked on the enemy formation. “They wouldn’t hold this line without something up their sleeve.”
“There’s no defense against dragonfire.” I shook my head. “Unless you’re the King of Radaan,” I added.
He alone had survived it. Wood and iron were no match for dragonflame.
A roar cleaved the air, pulling our eyes east. A red dragon shot low over the raiders, its cry sharp as tearing silk. My nails dug into the railing as harpoons arced upward, metal tips catching the light like stars.
With a squeal, it veered, spiraling through the sky.
Lightning struck.
A white-hot bolt cracked across the clouds, engulfing the creature midair. My heart stopped, a scream lodged in my throat. Kallias swore under his breath. The red tumbled, wings limp. Its rider—barely a dot—clung tight as they plummeted together.
Then a shadow dropped from above us.
Gyrak.
The black dragon descended with devastating silence, fire erupting from his maw. The nearest raider ship ignited in a bloom of heat and light, wood splintering as flames tore through hull and sail. Screams rose beneath the roar of flames.
I gasped, rooted to the deck as the charcoal beast ripped through their line.
“Now!” Kallias twisted toward Captain Wylyn and shoved me down behind the rail. “Take us in! Straight for the island!”
Gyrak vanished again, folding into the clouds. The sea boiled where he’d flown, only wreckage left in his wake.
The remaining ships scrambled. Red sails dropped as wind caught their canvas. Crews shouted, trying to close the gap.
But we were already moving.
A Draconis sailor stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as he looked up at the mast. Confidence swept through me. The gale shifted. I bared my teeth at the distant ships.
They were too slow. Too late.
We were Draconis.
Our ship surged like a living thing, the deck pitching underfoot as if shoved by some invisible hand.
At the heart of the vessel, a man stood still. Fingers spread. Palms angled toward the boards. His jaw clenched, sweat gleaming across his brow. Power swirled around him, rippling through the planks and rigging. Wind howled past us as magic grabbed hold and dragged the ship forward.
