Page 95 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Movement caught my attention near the exit of the cavern. A small silver female had crept forward, her head low, shoulders hunched. She pressed herself hesitantly against Hein’s talons, her silver hide still mottled with shadow where the black had not fully receded. Hein stilled, lowering his head until his great eye blinked down at her. Then, slowly, he unfurled a wing and ran it gently over her head.

The silver female leaned into him, trembling, then let out a shuddering sigh as though she had been waiting her whole life for that one gesture.

I swallowed hard, my throat thick. “He’ll make an excellent father someday.”

Yes, Kaelith murmured, and for the first time in her voice I heard reverence, almost a prayer. Yes, he will.

I turned when I heard leather slap against armor.

Zander clasped Leyriam’s forearm, his voice resolute but hoarse with exhaustion. “Thank you—for everything. Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

Leyriam inclined his head, his pale braid slipping over his shoulder. “The pleasure was mine, King Rayne.” His tone was formal, reverent, but there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes.

Zander flinched at the title, though he gave no correction.

Kaelith lowered herself so I could climb into her saddle, her eyes glancing toward the small golden dragon who still lingered near my feet. He chirred softly as I mounted, then with an eager bound he followed as Kaelith spread her wings and we surged into the air.

The others fell in behind us—Jax on Koddos, Ferrula on Narvea, Naia on Temil, Tae on Kieren. When their dragons took to the sky, the cluster of smaller freed dragons scrambled after, awkward but determined, like a pack of ungainly hatchlings trying to mimic their elders.

We kept a slower pace, Kaelith adjusting her wingbeats so those struggling wouldn’t fall too far behind. Even so, I could see the strain. A few of the smallest dipped low before catching the air again, their wing strokes uneven.

Then one faltered badly—the same little silver who had pressed herself so bravely against Hein. She wobbled, wings folding dangerously, her body dropping like a stone.

She isn’t going to make it, I called to Kaelith, panic gripping me.

Hein will take care of it, Kaelith replied, her tone absolute.

True enough, Hein and Zander wheeled out of formation, their massive wings carving the sky. They circled once, then swept down beneath the falling silver. Hein surged upward, and the tiny dragon, scrabbling wildly, latched onto the end of Zander’s saddle.

Her small body half-draped across Hein’s neck until she found her balance, her slender throat pressing over Zander’s shoulder. Finally, with a shudder, she stilled—laying her head in his lap like a weary child.

Zander’s hand immediately came down to stroke her head, soothing her, his dark hair whipping across his face as Hein leveled out with the rest of us.

My chest tightened at the sight. Of course she chose him, I thought, unable to stop the warmth rising in me.

Kaelith angled her wings, her head turning toward the horizon where the familiar shape of the Dragon Isle grew from the sea. We are close, she rumbled.

Relief swelled in me, but it was short-lived.

A roar split the heavens. The sound was so massive, so soul-deep, it rattled my very bones and made Kaelith’s wings shudder in the air.

My pulse spiked. What was that? I demanded.

Kaelith’s voice answered with a reverence that bordered on awe. I have informed Siergen we are on approach… with his son.

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

The wind still roared in my ears as Kaelith curved her wings and dropped into the clearing on the Dragon Isle. She landed a cautious distance from the massive golden figure waiting ahead. Siergen stood like a monument of fire and dawn, his scales blazing in the moonlight, his sheer presence making the earth itself hum.

The others descended behind us, their dragons settling into the clearing with varying degrees of grace. The smaller, newly freed dragons landed close to those they had clung to in the sky, pressing their trembling bodies against colored flanks as though the contact might anchor them.

The riders remained mounted, every one of them tense, hands firm on reins as their dragons instinctively raised their wings just slightly—creating protective arches for the smaller ones to lean against. The huddle that formed was not of warriors but of frightened children seeking shelter, every eye fixed on the colossus of gold before them.

A low murmur brushed through my thoughts, not Kaelith’s voice but another’s, deeper, older. I knew it was Siergen.

You risked your life to save the dragons. You risked Kaelith’s.