Page 46 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Kaelith and I banked low over the battlefield, her wings cutting through the smoke that still curled from the crater. The black dragon lay twisted, its neck bent at an unnatural angle, the Blood Fae rider crushed beneath its massive chest.

I guided her in a slow circle, my eyes locked on the traces of crimson that still shimmered across its dead scales. What happened? I asked, the unease in my chest growing heavier.

Kaelith’s voice came low, thoughtful. For a moment… I could almost feel my brethren in it. Not just the body—but the soul. It was as if a true dragon was buried beneath the shadow before it died.

A shiver slid down my spine. How is that possible?

I do not know, she admitted, her tone edged with frustration. The Blood Fae have found a way to twist our kin into these creatures. Perhaps their souls seek freedom just before death…

Her thought trailed off. We do not have time to debate this now.

The warning came a heartbeat before I noticed two more black dragons diving from the left, their riders already loosing jagged spears of dark magic. Kaelith roared, twisting us hard into a climb, but one of the bolts scraped across my warded armor. The impact rattled my bones; the ward flaring white-hot before it dimmed.

The air turned into a blur of claws and teeth as we met them mid-dive. I caught a flash of serrated blades, a glimpse of a rider’s sneer before I swung my own weapon, sparks flying as steel clashed against his curved sword.

Kaelith lashed her tail, catching the second dragon across the jaw and sending it tumbling. But the first rider pressed me hard, his magic striking at the edges of my wards again and again, trying to pry them open.

Hold steady, Kaelith growled in my mind, her power surging through me as we fought in brutal, dizzying spirals above the army below.

The sound cut through the chaos—high and unnatural. Every black dragon in the air stiffened, its wingbeats faltering for a breath before they broke away in unison. The retreat was too coordinated to be a coincidence.

Severeth, I thought, my stomach tightening. Only she could call them back like that.

Katama’s light-green form angled toward me, Remy leaning forward in his saddle. His fingers flashed in rapid, practiced motions, and I had to focus hard to keep up with his signing through the wind and distance.

I opened the bond to Zander. Remy says we need to land near the outpost.

Zander’s reply was immediate. What outpost?

The memory rose unbidden—a crumbling tower on the edge of the eastern woods, the low wooden walls around it scorched and broken. We’d flown over it earlier, the gates swinging loosely in the wind. It had been abandoned for days, maybe longer, the few villagers who once lived nearby having already sought shelter behind Warriath’s wards.

Get the information from him, Zander told me. Find out why.

I turned to Remy and messaged with chilly fingers, Why there?

His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. He shook his head.

My irritation flared. Remy⁠—

Enough, Zander cut in, his mental voice edged with command. You and Thrall Squad land at the outpost. The rest of the aerial units will stay in the sky until I know what we’re walking into.

I felt Kaelith’s muscles shift beneath me as she adjusted course, Hein and the others falling into formation on either side. Above us, the rest of the dragons circled high, shadows against the pale sky, watching.

We made our way back to the abandoned outpost.

It looked even more desolate up close. Its wooden gates sagged inward, one hinge hanging by a rusted nail. The low walls were weathered gray, with sections missing entirely, and the guard tower leaned at an angle that made it look ready to collapse. The place smelled of old ash and damp earth, as if rain had carried soot into every crack.

Kaelith’s talons dug into the overgrown grass as we landed, dust puffing up around us. The silence was heavy—no movement, no sound except the creak of the gate in the wind.

Zander was off Hein in one fluid motion, his boots hitting the ground with purpose. He strode toward Remy, who was sliding down from Katama’s saddle.

“What is this about?” Zander’s tone was fierce enough to cut steel.

Thrall Squad gathered in close as Remy’s eyes flicked to me first, then back to Zander. He exhaled slowly, as if weighing his words. “I have spies in the Crimson Sigil.”

I wasn’t surprised, not by that or the matter-of-fact way he said it, and neither was Zander.

Remy continued, “They’ve got something… some kind of poison that can disrupt our bond with our dragons. Temporarily. Weakens it enough to make us useless in a fight.”