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I know my answer, even as certainty fills me with icy dread.
Even if he wishes to challenge the Seamother at my side, I do not think he will be strong enough to escape her sway when her bloodlust takes control of the sea. I fear that if I give myself to Arcorlan, I will lose myself to war completely, and the ocean will never know anything but rage again.
I shake my head. “No. I can’t ...”
The next moment my words are lost in a roar as the world bursts into flame.
Chapter 6
Keliveth
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I’m too late.
Fire flashes over the water, casting a menacing blaze of scarlet and orange over the tossing waves. I cling to my dragon’s reins and try desperately to guide him through the barrage of explosives. The beast shies at each blast, his red-scaled wings flapping so erratically I barely stay on the saddle. I urge him forward toward the central domed roof of the palace. He whips his head around, eyes flashing. I let out an oath as his teeth snap toward me.
Stars blast it. When I had found one dragon remaining in the stables, I’d thought it was a gift from the One. Now I’ll just be relieved to survive this flight without being eaten. I should have known there was a reason the creature had been left behind when Falamar ordered this attack. He barely has enough training to tolerate a saddle.
I lurch as the dragon banks sharply to the left. The tilting view gives me a full look at the carnage below. I can barely see the twelve common dragons in formation against the starry sky, their scales tinted with magic so that they’re shadows even to keen elven eyes. Horror chills me as their riders stretch out their hands and lines of gleaming magic spring from their palms. The light forms into spherical runes so powerful I can feel the crackle of magic in the air even from here. One after another, the dragon riders hurl the spheres of light against the roof of the central dome. As the runes strike the palace, they burst with explosive force, shattering the stone and glass of the building.
The uppermost level of the palace used to be a gathering place for celebrations and political meetings—a place where the land-dwelling peoples of Tandith could be hosted. In these times, most of the Atathari take shelter in the deep gullies and caves of the underwater ridge or out in the remote eastern islands. Surely the Seamother wasn’t foolish enough to hold a festival gathering here, where her people would be an easy mark for elven soldiers. But if she was, and Evya is inside ...
The main dome shudders under the blasts, then crumbles into the water with a tremendous splash, leaving a gaping hole in the wall of the central part of the palace. Movement catches my eye inside the building. I know with sickening certainty that Falamar’s plan of ambush is working. Tall figures scatter away from the broken wall. They’re dressed not in armor, but in brightly colored robes and jewelry. Festival garments.
The tuath are being driven to their deaths.
Falling bombs light the ruin in streaks like lightning. I catch glimpses of figures scattering in the wake of the roaring dragons. Most tuath dart away into the shadows of the broken structure, heading for doors that surely lead down into the water where they will be safer and stronger. But a few rush forward, climbing on top of the fallen rubble and brandishing spears and knives at the attacking elves.
I watch, time slowing, as a massive warrior in northern tribal garb steps out through the broken wall and raises his arms toward the waves. Water shoots upward in front of him, forming lances of ice. One flick of the warrior’s hands, and the frozen spears fly up toward an approaching dragon. The dragon swerves, but not fast enough. One spear smashes into its wing, and another pierces its tail. The beast plummets into the sea with a shriek. The waves around the dragon turn to tentacles and pull it and its rider under the water.
My own dragon lurches beneath me again, breaking my horrified stare. I crouch low on its back and hang on desperately as the dragon spirals down toward the water, mad with terror. I breathe out a prayer for protection as I clench the reins to guide the dragon back on course. The dragon flings his head as another blast of fire ignites beside us. The motion yanks the reins from my hands.
I grip the short spines along the dragon’s neck for balance as the creature careens perilously through the air. I’m a star-cursed fool. Here I am, flying a half-wild dragon into a firefight, with no plan except to find Evya and probably make myself a traitor in the process. All I will accomplish is giving myself up to the hungry sea.
I shake the thoughts off. I did the only thing I could think of to do—follow the visions. Those visions wouldn’t lead me here to die—at least, I don’t think they would. I need to keep going and trust there will be a way through this.
