Page 3 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Kaelith was next to touch down, her massive form gliding through the moonlight before she landed with a ground-shaking thud. Narvea circled close behind her, green scales catching glints of gold. One by one, our dragons descended, Koddos and Kieren, Temil and Kasstovian, like summoned gods of old answering a call only they could hear.

I stepped toward Kaelith, her gold eyes already watching me as if she’d been waiting for my next move.

We fly, I told her silently as I secured her saddle.

Her tail arched in agreement. Then let us see what awaits us in the shadows.

The night air was calm, a balm against my skin as Kaelith leaped into the sky and cut through the wind with effortless grace. The others flew in staggered formation, Koddos just below us, Temil and Narvea to our left, and Kieren drifting a little high, keeping Tae within easy reach. The stars spilled like molten silver across the sky. For a moment, just a moment, I forgot why we were here.

Kaelith’s wings stretched wide, catching the current as if she were born to ride it. Which she was. Her body thrummed beneath me, alive with quiet strength. The wind whispered past my ears. Zander flew just ahead, his silhouette against the stars vivid and certain. Hein’s wings beat effortlessly as they climbed higher still.

Almost beautiful, I thought.

But then we crested the ridge of the eastern mountain pass, and everything beautiful fell away.

A shadow stretched across the horizon—broad, writhing, alive. Black dragons. Dozens. Maybe more. Their scales glistened with dark magic, wings as wide as guild banners, eyes like burning coals. Some hovered like sentinels in the sky, others perched on jagged outcrops and half-buried siege towers. Their growls echoed across the range—low, guttural warnings that vibrated through Kaelith’s chest.

Below them, the ground churned.

A sea of armored bodies. Line after endless line of foot soldiers, clad in crimson-trimmed black steel, their armor dull with travel but gleaming at the edges like freshly forged death. Crimson Sigil banners snapped in the wind, alongside jagged, blood-stained standards I didn’t recognize. Varnari? Or something worse?

Siege engines groaned behind them—towers on wheels, war wagons spiked with enchanted steel, and battering rams shaped like the gaping mouths of serpents. Lines of beasts, some scaled, some twisted by sorcery, dragged carts filled with sharpened pikes, fire barrels, and cages I didn’t want to imagine the contents of.

The army was moving slowly but with terrifying purpose.

Each step toward Warriath was deliberate. No drunken shouts. No wild chants. Just the heavy thud of boots, the grind of wheels, and the roiling smoke of their fires.

This isn’t an army, Kaelith murmured in my mind. It’s a reckoning.

My throat went dry. Zander’s dragon dipped low, wings banking hard as he circled back toward us. One look passed between us, and it was all I needed.

We had seen enough.

I tugged the tether once. Kaelith rose, turning west. We fly. Now.

No matter how fast we returned to Warriath, we were already too late.

Zander. I reached for him across the bond, my fingers clenched in Kaelith’s warm scales. My voice trembled with the force of what I’d seen. How do we fight that?

There was silence for a moment, the kind that stretched and hollowed your ribs from the inside out. Then his voice came, steady but grim.

We don’t. Not like this.

They have almost as many dragons now… I swallowed hard as Kaelith beat her wings once, rising into the thinning clouds. And five times our army of men. We’ll be swallowed whole.

Zander’s reply came low, wrapped in fury and heartbreak. Most of the Crimson Sigil’s soldiers are without magic. That was their entire creed—no magic, just steel and blood. They hated what we were.

But they’re flying with the Blood Fae now, I shot back, glancing toward the eastern sky as more dark wings wheeled in formation. How did this happen?

Because the Blood Fae tricked them, Zander said, bitterness seeping through the bond. Promised them freedom from our rule. Promised them order. Purpose. Revenge. He exhaled, and I felt it across the tether like a pulse. And now? Now they march under crimson banners with sorcery in their veins. They’re not just armed—they’re bound.

I looked down again at the endless churn of soldiers below. So we’re not just fighting them…

We’re liberating them, he finished. Even if they don’t see it yet.

My chest tightened. How? How do we fight that without losing everything?

There’s only one way.