CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Maren 
The dragon’s name was Alora, and she had been Talon-bonded for thirteen years. She was smaller than Naava and angrier than Glivven—I could feel her vindictive glee as I explained what Tasia and I had set out to accomplish.
I’m glad you’ve come, she said. I’ve wanted nothing more than to do exactly this.
“So… we trust the dragon now?” Efren whispered. She wasn’t hiding behind me exactly, but she’d taken care to let me stand between her and Alora.
“Yes,” I said. “This dragon’s name is Alora—she will help us free the other dragons.”
“Good,” Kaia said, “because I need to talk to you. Now.”
“If I may,” Efren interrupted. “We don’t have much time. The Talons will soon realize that something is wrong.”
“You’re right,” I said. I turned back to Alora. Do you know a way to keep the Talons away? I asked.
I will burn the house. It is not so unusual—the Talons often tell us to do such things, Alora said. But that will not convince them for long.
She snapped her jaws menacingly. Then she reared back on her hind legs and let out a burst of fire. Flames enveloped the house—Sev’s house—cracking greedily. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and took a deep breath, reaching for my resolve.
“All right,” I said, turning back to the humans. “Once the Talons realize what’s happened, all ten of them will come for us. That’s too many to free at once—can you think of a way to keep them separate?”
After a moment, Efren snapped her fingers. “The roofs. If we put people on top of the roofs with torches, the Talons will have to separate to investigate them.”
“The dragons won’t burn the buildings down?” I said.
Efren and Kaia exchanged a glance. “At this point, we’re going to have to take that chance,” Kaia said. “The Aurati are standing by. They will spread the word.”
“You called on them?” I said.
Kaia shot me a murderous look. “They will do what needs to be done,” she said icily. “Watch the roofs.”
She walked away before I could reply, leaving me fuming.
Efren cleared her throat. “I’m not a fan of the Aurati either, but in this case, I agree with Kaia,” she said.
I ignored her and addressed Alora. My friends will help distract the Talons, I explained. But I think Tasia and I will be more effective in the air. With your permission, will you carry me?
The dragon nodded and bowed down so that Tasia and I could climb into her saddle. Then Alora bent her knees and launched us into the sky.
Alora flew faster and more erratically than Naava, swerving to catch wind pockets and executing an occasional twirl. But the feeling of flight was the same—that this was where I was meant to be. In the air, the world felt far away. Here there was only my hair streaking back with the wind, the beat of Alora’s wings, and the task ahead of us.
We circled in the night sky. I watched the city below us, waiting for Efren’s group and the Aurati to reach their positions. The Talon and dragon that had stayed behind as Alora attacked were nowhere to be seen. Where had they gone?
I closed my eyes, casting out my consciousness. They were close by.
Do you know where they are? Are they alone? I asked Alora.
Yes, Alora replied. There is a place Braith likes to go.
I wasn’t sure whether she was referring to the dragon or the Talon. Alora beat her wings and sped through the air, and I turned my attention to Tasia.
Are you ready, little one?
Tasia had managed to negotiate a comfortable position in the saddle, for which I was thankful.
Ready, she said.
One moment we were flying alone through the night—the next, another dragon roared out of the darkness, almost colliding with us. Alora screamed, swiping her claws at the Talon. I could smell spiny pine—for clarity of thought and action. Wind whistled by my ears. The Talon reached for their bandolier, and fumbled in their haste. I reached out for Tasia—we opened our mouths and sang.
Every time I sang, it became easier to shape my mouth around the dragon melody. My consciousness slanted and expanded—now there were auras hovering on the edges of my vision, bright against the night. I closed my eyes, and the shimmering shapes clarified. I gasped. Was I somehow sensing the dragons?
I had to be. I couldn’t tuck my chin into my chest without being struck by the glowing mass of light underneath me. And I could sense Tasia’s presence. Ahead of me, the—essence?—of the Talon’s dragon glowed, but there was a dullness to it, as though someone had dropped a film over the creature.
But as we sang, a silvery thread spooled out from our bodies, soaring across the sky, toward the Talon’s dragon. The thread touched the dragon’s chest and dissipated. For a moment there was nothing—and then the dullness dissolved, leaving only light behind.
I opened my eyes to see the dragon snarl and buck in the air, swerving away from us as it attempted to throw the Talon from its back. Alora folded her wings and dove toward the dragon. As we closed in on it, she opened her mouth and spat a plume of fire directly at the Talon. The Talon recoiled, losing their grip on the reins. The dragon twisted in midair, and the Talon fell.
Alora’s grim satisfaction reverberated through my mind. She spared no attention for the fallen Talon—instead, she focused entirely on the newly freed dragon. She spoke using the same sounds that Glivven had used when we’d conversed—the language that I had decided to call dragon tongue. Soon enough the dragon’s flight evened out, and it fell into line beside us in the air.
What did you say? I asked.
That Braith will never be captive again, Alora said fiercely. That I will not allow it.
Alora’s words hit me like a blow—I had thought almost exactly the same thing about Kaia. For a brief moment, I wondered whether dragons had an equivalent to human heartmates. There was no time to ponder that now, though.
One by one, lights sparked to life across the city below us. They were everywhere, more than I could easily count—many more than I had expected. And every one of those lights was held by a person who was willing to give everything for this cause.
In the distance I saw the rest of the Talons speeding across the sky. I closed my eyes, noting the splashes of light that illuminated the darkness behind my eyelids. And for the first time, I had no fear.
We freed the first dragon easily. Perhaps the Talon was untrained, or perhaps they just never expected to face two furious dragons in the air, fighting against them. Either way, it wasn’t long before the Talon leaped from the saddle as we flew over the river, abandoning their dragon to us. The dragon’s essence brightened as Tasia and I sang. As soon as it was free, it shot like an arrow away from the battle.
Alora snorted. He was never much of a warrior, she said dismissively.
But why should a dragon be a warrior? I barely had time for that thought before a plume of fire burst out of the darkness. Five Talons had coordinated their attack—two came at us from each side, and one head-on. Braith roared and dove down, while Alora took Tasia and me higher in the sky, dodging the flames that chased us up. I coughed as heat singed my cheek. The scent of fire root was heavy in the air.
I cleared my throat and began to sing again, though maintaining the melody was becoming difficult. The air was smoky, and my throat was growing hoarse. But Tasia’s voice cut through the sky like a knife. When I closed my eyes, I saw the same silvery thread arc out toward the dragon closest to us. It was growing, now more like a rope than a thread. As I sang, it seemed to pass through the dragon’s chest and loop across the sky toward the next, and then the next, weaving a silvery net in the air. Tasia’s words came back to me—many is like one. Was this what she had meant?
The net expanded until it formed a perimeter I could only see when I closed my eyes. Confused consciousnesses flashed through my mind as the dragons woke one by one, yielding to our song, and then struggling against the Talons’ attempts to recapture them with oils. Our song swelled. The net turned a brilliant, blinding silver and contracted—then suddenly exploded outward across the sky. Light hit my chest and sent me rocking back in my seat. One by one, the dragons threw their riders from their backs. And one by one, they began to sing.
Alora called out in dragon tongue, soothing the newly freed dragons. I reached out, counting each of them in turn. Eight. Eight dragons freed and flying.
There were still three Talons left, scattered over the city. But they had seen our battle—as we turned toward them, they flew in the opposite direction.
Ready? I asked.
Alora made no reply—only folded her wings and fell into a dive, the rest of the dragons following behind.
We chased the last three Talons beyond Ruzi’s borders, until Alora finally admitted that we should turn back. If we went much farther, she explained, we risked running into larger groups of Talons. After a short conversation between the dragons, only Alora and Braith stayed with us—the others elected to fly to Ilvera.
The sun was rising as we finally flew back into Ruzi with the sunrise. With the Talons gone, there was no further need to avoid populated areas. We flew over the city and circled down to the ground near Efren’s tavern. I staggered as I set foot on the ground, my legs feeling like jelly. Tasia jumped down beside me.
“Maren!” Kaia came forward, hugging her arms across her body. Tasia ran over and leaned against her legs until Kaia knelt down and scratched her behind the ears.
“We’re fine,” I said. “Three of them got away, but we were able to free eight.” Eight dragons. And to think that once I had despaired of ever even seeing a dragon.
Efren appeared behind Kaia, wonder on her face. She looked at the dragons, then back at me. “I have to admit it, I thought you were done for. But—” She gestured helplessly at the sky. “What you’ve done is… amazing.”
Tasia chirped and nipped at my elbow, demanding attention. I knelt down and stroked her back, right in between her wings. “It’s not just me. Tasia is the one who deserves the credit.”
“Do you think the emperor will send more Talons?” Efren asked.
“My guess is that he will,” I said. “Your people should take the opportunity to leave, if they want, or bring in more supplies.”
I was just beginning to feel the aches that came with riding a dragon into battle, and there was a deep bruise on my leg from falling through the roof. Tomorrow would be worse, but there was nothing I could do for it. No matter how much I wished for a hot bath, there was no time to spare.
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “I’ve held up my side of the bargain,” I said. “Who will you send to guide us to Irrad?”
“Me,” Efren said instantly. “Jase will come too.”
My face fell. “No more?”
She scratched the side of her neck. “You must understand. Ruzi has a chance now, but it may not last. Most of my people have families. I can’t tell them that they cannot see to their own, not when the blockade might go up again at any time.”
I couldn’t argue with that. But there were only six days left. The tyrant’s army would soon sail. We didn’t have time to walk, and we didn’t have any horses.…
My eye fell on the dragons.
I had asked Glivven to stay with us, and he had declined. But Alora wasn’t Glivven, and something told me that she would enjoy the prospect of annihilating the emperor’s fleet of Talons.
I walked over to the dragons and cleared my throat. Alora opened one eye lazily.
Yes, little human?
My name is Maren, I replied. My quest does not end here. I intend to go to Irrad and free every dragon that is bonded to a Talon.
Braith yawned. And? Her voice was lighter and more musical than Alora’s.
You are free dragons, and you may do as you please. Most of the other dragons have chosen to retreat to Ilvera to rest and recover. But I am asking—will you come with us to Irrad?
Alora bared her teeth in a dangerous smile. Rest does not interest me. I prefer to burn.
Someone touched my arm, and I turned around to see Kaia, her expression stony. “Come with me,” she said.
We walked from the celebratory gathering in silence, dread suffusing my body with every step. She’d been relieved when I landed alive, but she was still furious, and making no effort to hide it.
Once we were well out of earshot, Kaia whirled on me. “After everything we talked about, how could you go off after the dragons by yourself? We had a plan! What happened?”
“We were running out of time,” I said helplessly.
“And you thought that a few hours would make such a difference?”
I scrambled to respond. “I had another dragon dream,” I said. “The emperor is setting Sev up to be killed. He only has a few days left.”
“Sev.” She spat the name like it was poison. “So you shut me out again because of him?”
“I promised I would come for him!”
“Can’t you hear how that sounds? You promised you would come for me.”
“I am doing my best.”
“Really? Is your best going off by yourself without any help at all? You could have been hurt. Killed! That dragon almost took Tasia! And the Ruzians—our only allies—could have lost their lives for no reason. What you did was reckless!” Kaia shook her head. “You infuriate me.”
She turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.
I was furious too—but on the heels of that anger came bleak mortification. I sank to the ground, pulled down by the weight of her words. I’d thought only of Sev and his safety—but that had made me unconscionably reckless. Worse, it had put others’ lives at risk. And what she’d said about Sev—I had chosen Kaia, and yet my feelings had still betrayed me. The chasm between us had widened, and I feared I wouldn’t be able to bridge it this time.
Again, the terrifying question resurfaced at the edge of my thoughts: Were Kaia and I meant to be with each other? I bowed my head and began to cry, tears of shame for my mistake—and for us, and what we still stood to lose.