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FLORENCE

Wind howled along the crenellations as I burst out onto the parapet that rimmed the peak of the Avari tower. The balus-trade was no higher than my hip. As I looked over, I could see Veilmar. Festooned in orange and scarlet, the city looked as if it were drowning in a terrible sunset.

Nyxaris waited, perched against the slate-shingled tower, a mountain of obsidian shadow. Even folded, his wings rose higher than the tower’s spires. Every breath he took seemed to leave the parapet shuddering. My pulse stuttered as I thought about what we were about to do.

This is madness, I whispered.

Second thoughts?

But I knew I didn’t have that luxury. I crossed the roof carefully, Lunaya’s crossbow bouncing against my spine and the case of bolts at my hip.

A sharp bark sent me jumping out of my skin. I whirled around. “Neville?”

The fluffin stood by the stair hatch, his tail poufed outwards, his pointed ears flat against his head. He barked again, then scampered towards me, claws clicking on the flagstones. Reaching my boots, he sat down on his hind legs and chirped, then batted his paws at me, as if asking to be lifted.

“Oh, no.” I crouched down. “Neville, it’s too dangerous. You can’t possibly—wait!”

He wriggled past me, darting towards Nyxaris’s foreclaw and scrambling up his scales like a tiny mountain climber. As he reached the top of the dragon’s back, he turned to face me with a determined stare. Another bark.

“Neville, get down from there,” I scolded.

Let him come.

Hysterical laughter bubbled in my throat. Let him come? He’s the size of a puppy, and you want to take him into terrible danger?

The small one has courage, the dragon rumbled, amusement and impatience mingling together.

On Nyxaris’s back, Neville was carefully arranging himself into a little hollow I’d never noticed before—much too small to suit me, but one which fit him perfectly. A humming sound began to come from the fluffin’s throat.

“What’s he doing?” I whispered.

Nyxaris sighed. He says the other belongs to him, too.

Too?

The Duskdrake harrumphed. It seems the audacious little creature has staked two claims.

In you and Blake, you mean?

I’ve told him that the beast is Vorago. That the highblood boy is lost. He will not listen to reason.

I reached a decision quickly. “We don’t have time for this.” I set my foot between onyx scales and hauled myself up onto Nyxaris’s neck as a cold wind cut across my cheeks. Neville’s tail whipped back and forth, a clear sign of fluffin stubbornness if there ever was one. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” I muttered to him.

Hold tight. Nyxaris unfurled his wings with a thunderloud crack. And then the tower dropped away beneath us. We speared through the air towards the blazing city. Neville squeaked triumphantly.

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic,” I whispered to the fluffin. “I must say I feel much less certain about our prospects. You know we could all die tonight?”

We cleared the tower, skimming beneath moon-washed clouds.

Steel yourself, little rider, Nyxaris said suddenly. Dragon fire is not for the faint of heart. What you are about to witness may haunt you all the years of your life.

Thanks for the encouragement, I whispered back, furiously. I was already terrified.

I say this not to terrify but to prepare you, he replied grimly. There will be screams on the wind. The scent of burning flesh. You must not let fear stay your hands.

As we neared Veilmar, I caught sight of blocks of rooftops sagging. Hundreds of houses were simply smoking husks of ash. The streets were clogged with people streaming towards the four gates that lay on each side of the city. I prayed many had been able to flee in time.

Then, there he was—the red dragon—slashing a new wound across the bleeding city. He flew over a line of buildings near the waterfront. His jaws parted, and an entire block disintegrated in flames, debris raining down onto the ships docked nearby.