Desolation (Dragonlands Book 4) (21 page)

Connor ran through the Red castle, with a package under his arm, ignoring the clanging of the bells that drew people out for the evacuation. Elbows met his gut, but he continued to push past the people swarming out of the castle. Children clutched their mothers’ hands while adults carried everything they could.

Word had spread quickly throughout the castle, telling everyone to flee as fast and as far as possible. No one was to remain in the whole of the Flaming Hills. Dragons, both Black and Red, waited in the courtyard, ready to take anyone who wanted a flight away. Horses were saddled in the stables for those who preferred horseback. Wagons and carriages were hitched up. There was no concern for rank or occupation—all were equals in the face of death.

Anyone who wanted to stay behind was encouraged to do so, to protect those who had a harder time leaving the castle. Those people gathered around Sophia and Mestifito, helping anyone escape who needed it.

Connor had his own plans to execute once the castle was evacuated. The high of rediscovering what made the honey special had been replaced by the knowledge that Decarian was close to breaking free. If Connor could make the castle collapse on the beast, it would solve all of their problems. It wasn't the best idea. Unfortunately, it was the only one that had a chance of working.

As soon as everyone was out of the castle, he'd proceed with his plan. Connor didn't share his idea with Sophia. He wanted them to get away before he went through with it. He didn't want anyone else risking life on his stupid plan. He wasn't even sure he would make it out.

The only thing he regretted was not having the time to write Hazel a note. He'd fallen in love with the same woman twice, which should give her the comfort she'd need after his death. She knew beyond any doubt how much he loved her and their children. And he knew she would take care of their boys and dragonlings. Just like the day he stepped into the fog, Connor believed he was doing the right thing, even if it meant losing everything he loved.

He pushed through the crowd, finally breaking free of the wave of frantic people. Connor slowed down a little, letting the pounding of his heart even out. He turned right, then walked down a deserted corridor toward a door at the end of the hall.

Jarrett's room. Despite everything, he couldn't let the man die. Connor had wanted to kill him after Jarrett had slaughtered the baby dragons. But now... Tressa had convinced Connor there might be hope for Jarrett yet. If there was a possibility he could be redeemed, then Connor wouldn't be the one to take his life. Not today. Connor would tell the mages they were relieved of duty, and he would take care of Jarrett himself.

When Connor pushed the door it swung open, then abruptly stopped. Annoyed, Connor pushed again, but still the door wouldn't open all the way. He slipped sideways between the door and the frame. Connor looked down, discovering what had kept it from opening all the way.

Two mages lay on the floor, their eyes closed. Connor dropped to his knees, laying two fingers on one man's neck. There was no heartbeat. No indication of life.

"Damn it!" Connor yelled as he stood. The third mage was missing. Connor's head whipped toward the bed. Just as he feared, Jarrett was gone.

The sheets were mussed and blankets were strewn on the floor. Connor laid a hand on the bed. Still warm. Jarrett hadn't been gone long.

"I'm gonna kill him," Connor snarled. He had wanted to believe in Tressa's hopes. He wanted everything she said to be true. Jarrett had shown them, again, that he couldn't be trusted.

"Tressa will just have to get used to living without her lover. The next time I see him, I'm going to tear his head off," Connor muttered as he left the room. He didn't even have time to take the mages out of the castle and allow them a proper burial. They'd be destroyed in the ruins of the castle with Decarian and his minions.

Connor stomped down the hallway, back to the main entrance to the castle. He waited there, nervous, as ten men ran back inside to make sure the halls and rooms were clear. Sophia and Mestifito wouldn't leave until they knew everyone had been evacuated. A thousand souls, maybe more, would flee that night. They had encouraged everyone to head south, to the Charred Barrens, where guides would wait to take them into the underground city of the Ruins of Ebon. It was the only place they could hide from the coming demons.

Connor didn't tell them to stay. If his plan failed, it would be best if everyone followed through with Sophia's instructions. If his plan succeeded, they would have to rebuild the castle anyway. It was no place for anyone to be, no matter the outcome.

He had only one person who he wanted to remain hidden in the castle: Jarrett. Let the bastard die with Decarian when the castle fell.

The sun's rays in the west were nearly gone when the ten men returned from their sweep of the castle.

"It's clear as far as we can tell," the tall man in front said. Connor hadn't had time to learn their names. If he survived the night, he would thank them all personally someday.

"Then we will fly," Sophia said. She climbed on Mestifito's back. "Are you coming, Connor?"

He nodded. "I'll fly out last. You take the men and go."

Sophia gave him a curt nod. He could tell she was fighting back exhaustion. She'd had so little rest, and even though Mestifito's blood gave her strength, she was still human. Two of the men clambered on Mestifito's back behind her, including Destrian, their royal Yellow prisoner, and the other eight divided themselves across two other Black dragons.

They took off into the night sky, their wings nearly invisible as they flew into the clouds. Connor turned on one heel and stalked back into the castle. The torches had all been put out, and the only light he had was starlight streaming in the high windows. He ran a hand along the wall, following the hallway to the staircase leading down to the dungeon. Connor descended the long, spiral stairs into the bowels of the castle, like a meal slipping down a dragon's throat. He didn't need light, just a sure step and the will to keep going.

Fighting his fear was the hardest part. Despite knowing he was doing the best he could to save the Dragonlands, he'd seen Decarian at work. He knew how much delight the beast took in death. Connor wasn't looking forward to being one of Decarian's meals if he failed.

Light flickered on the last few steps. Connor entered the chamber before Decarian's underground lair. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for what he was about to do.

"You have returned." Decarian's voice boomed in the cavern as Connor appeared in front of his enemy.

"I have," Connor said, answering the beast for the first time. "I've come for you."

Decarian laughed. "Come closer, little human. Let me show you the face of death."

Connor dropped the package he'd been carrying under his arm on the ground. He unrolled the tarp, revealing a cache of fireworks like the ones they'd shot off after capturing the Red castle. He placed them in even lengths against the walls of the cavern.

Connor swallowed his fear and turned into his Blue dragon. He walked closer to Decarian, standing just outside the line Sophia had drawn on the ground to show Decarian's reach. Without hesitation, Connor reared back and blew dragonfire at the explosives. One by one, their wicks lit, cracking and popping.

"Your little explosives will not injure me," Decarian called out. "Soon I will be free from my bonds. I will eat you first, dragon. I will rip your limbs from your body, suck out the marrow, and use your bones to clean my teeth when I am done."

Connor ignored the beast's promises. He ignored the screams of the minions below, clamoring to roam free in the Dragonlands, bringing destruction with them. He continued lighting the wicks. Once the final one had been sparked, Connor changed back into his human form.

Connor bolted out of the cavern, heading up to the next floor as fast as he could, to light the fireworks he'd placed there. Then to the floor above that, and so on, until the entire castle shook down to its very foundations. He only hoped he could get out in time to save his own life.

Tressa flew all day, as hard and fast as her wings could carry her. The ghost dragons kept up easily, not appearing to show any strain. Of course not. They didn’t have flesh to slow them down, not like Tressa did. She felt every beat of her dragon heart, every drop of blood that pumped through her body, every fear that tore through her mind. Though she hadn't known what awaited her in Desolation, she never would have thought she'd bring back an entire army of ghosts from Hutton's Bridge to wage war against Decarian.

As she climbed higher over the Barrier Mountains, Tressa felt her lungs tightening. The air thinned at the peaks. Tressa kept her eyes trained on the rocks the whole way up, hoping to find some kind of break in the mountaintops that she could fly through. So far she hadn't spied a shortcut. Still, she refused to give up. She would fly until she was back in the Dragonlands, burning lungs be damned.

She’d long passed the dark peaks with their unearthly orange glow. Now snow glistened on the mountaintops, momentarily blinding Tressa. She marveled at its beauty. She'd never seen such grandeur while hidden inside Hutton's Bridge. Yes, she'd seen snow, even made snowballs and caught flakes with her tongue, but this was different. Snow covered the tall mountains just as grass covered the land of her home. It felt like another world here.

Tonight she flew home. Tonight she would try to stop Decarian once and for all. If she didn’t—no, she wouldn't think like that. Losing was not an option.

Despite a growing worry in the pit of her stomach, Tressa flapped her wings with greater urgency. Already, she could feel herself lagging. Each time she pushed ahead, the atmosphere sucked a little more breath from her. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as she realized her will to continue was far beyond what her body could handle. Her stomach constricted, and her chest caved in. Tressa's wings stiffened. She plummeted from the sky, her body freefalling toward the sharp peaks below.

Her mind wandered, remembering the time she'd fallen from Fi's back and changed into her dragon. Not today. This was the end. Her dragon body would be impaled on a cliff, only a shadow to those below who looked up at the mountains.

No one could see the ghosts but her. There would be no one to tell her story. No one to explain why she hadn't made it back to the Dragonlands. She would fade into obscure history. Lips wouldn't speak her name. Children wouldn't hear of her stories. Instead, Tressa would be the one who left the Dragonlands in its time of greatest need and never returned.

Tressa wrapped her wings around her body as she spiraled down and down. She was vaguely aware of the ghost dragons surrounding her, their wings fighting against the upward draft of the air. One by one they sped past her falling body. She smiled wryly. They were trying to catch her. It was sweet, but she'd resigned herself to death. Their formless bodies were less solid than clouds. She would simply fall through them until her body landed on the rocks, broken.

Her eyes closed, accepting what was to come. The end of her story.

Ice spread through her body. A shivering cold unlike nothing she'd ever felt.

Roll over!
Alden yelled in her mind.
Then blow your fire! Don't give up on us now!

Digging deep to find the last bit of her strength, Tressa forced her body to turn in midair. Her eyes snapped open to see the ground speed toward her. Was this what they had wanted? For her to face death instead of hiding from it?

Then Tressa saw what they'd done, what they’d made. Her jaws opened and she roared, a line of dragonfire streaming down toward their creation. She closed her eyes again, bracing for the cold, and she landed with a splash in the freezing cold pond.

Tressa dove and spun around to get her bearings, then floated on her back. She breathed another burst of fire to warm up the icy water. Her teeth clattered.

The ghosts had created an ice field with their frozen breath, and Tressa's fire turned it to liquid. It was enough to break her fall.

She wasn't dead.

Yet.

She looked up at the dragons circling her and thanked them with a wave of her tail.

Now what?
she asked Alden.
I can't fly any higher. My body simply can't tolerate the lack of air. I'll die if I try to fly over the mountains.

We must keep trying to reach the Dragonlands. We cannot stop now.

But I don't know what to do!
Tressa said.
I'm stuck! I can either go back down to Desolation in defeat and wait there until I can get through the tunnel, or I can die here trying to fly back.

You aren't dead yet.
Alden's matter-of-fact tone didn't help her feel better.

I know. I am grateful. I really am.
The water was quickly cooling, so Tressa blew another stream of dragonfire, warming it up.

If need be, we will repeat this process over and over again until you can break over the top and fly back down to our home. We will not give up, Tressa. Will you?

Tressa closed her eyes, thinking of her friends who needed her help so badly. She pictured Fi, who was, right now, traveling back to the Red castle with Donovan. She imagined Connor, her brave friend fighting so hard for his family. They wouldn't give up as long as they breathed. Neither would Tressa.

She burst into the air, her body refreshed, energized even. Maybe she could keep going if she didn't push herself so hard. She flew westward, toward the Dragonlands, toward her loved ones. Nothing else would get in her way.

Until the pain struck again moments later. Her chest spasmed more violently this time, and Tressa fell to the ground. She dug her talons into the snow, pulling her body forward.

If I have to claw my way home, I will do it.
Tressa glanced up, her vision blurry. The ghost dragons swam in her sight, but she couldn't pick out individual forms. She couldn't think properly. Couldn't do anything other than drag herself, bit by bit, across the frozen ground. Her belly froze, and soon she couldn't feel anything other than the pain in her arms every time she sank her talons into a fresh pile of snow.

Tressa thought she heard voices in her mind. Perhaps they were echoes of memories. She was alone here, facing down her mortality in a way
she'd never contemplated. Everything that had mattered to her in the past floated away. There was nothing left to hold on to.

The only thing she focused on was the sparkling snow beneath her head... until the moment her jaw lay on the cold ground and her eyes closed.