Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Rage

THE TEMPLE THROBBED against my back as I pressed harder against it, trying to become invisible. My door was gone, and too easily, I could recall how Sam had described the dragon acid. I could imagine myself burning and itching, my skin boiling until I saw bone. I didn’t want to die. Not in the temple, or by falling off, or by dragon.

I considered opening another door only for a heartbeat; there was no telling what I’d find inside, or if I could get back to the ground level to create a new door. I couldn’t risk it.

Thinking invisible thoughts, I planted both palms on the warm stone and tried to calm my vertigo and terror. The dragon’s wings spread wide, glittering in the strange templelight.

Right. Warm stone. That would at least keep ice from making me slip, but there was still water. The ledge was only a foot deep, which didn’t leave much room for me to keep my balance.

The dragon’s jaws gaped as it flew nearer, but before it speared me with teeth as long as my forearm, blue light shot from the ground, piercing the roof of its mouth. With a roar, it veered and dove at its attacker. Wind from its wings nearly forced me off the ledge, but I dug my heels in and clenched my jaw, as if that would keep me from tumbling to the market field.

The Councilhouse roof wasn’t far to the left – which meant I faced north, and all the incoming dragons – and that seemed like a safer place to be stranded. It was still at least a one‑ story drop, and I couldn’t tell if my ledge went that far, but it was better than staying here.

I inched toward the roof. The glow helped when it was right underneath me, but anything beyond arm’s reach was hazy with sleet and numinous light. And even with the warm temple, my face and fingers were numb. My backpack tugged awkwardly on my shoulder, making fire shoot through it. Something was out of place, or maybe broken.

Dragons snaked through the air, diving into the streets. There were hundreds of them, shrieking and making thunder shake the world. Their cacophony drowned any screams my fellow humans might make. They’d never hear mine, either.

I clutched the temple harder, inching faster.

A mistake. My heel slipped in water, sending me weightless for a split second as my other foot followed. I threw my weight back, hoping beyond reason I didn’t overcompensate and push myself off. My tailbone thudded against stone, sending shocks through my spine.

My legs dangled off the ledge. The stone cut at my thighs, revealing exactly how much room I didn’t have to move. Trying to stand again would get me killed, so I pressed my hands to the ledge and scooted like that. Water soaked the seat of my pants. Chills surged through my legs and stomach.

The temple shuddered as a dragon latched onto it far above me. I didn’t look. If what I’d seen during the market attack was an indication, the claws wouldn’t even scratch the stone.

Meuric had said there were sylph. I couldn’t see any through the blinding lights and sleet, but no doubt they were out there. They were creatures of shadow and air; did that mean they could fly?

I focused on scooting without falling, and fought the urge to look down. I’d see the Councilhouse when I was over it. Roof first. Ground later.

The view of the north half of the city was frightening enough without adding dizzy to that.

I couldn’t discern the cannonballs through the distance and misty light, but the booms rattled the air and made dragons scream. Dark shapes wove through the sky, pursued by laser blasts. Lights shone off city walls, Councilhouse walls, and all along the main avenues. Heart would have been as bright as day, if not for the sleet and clouds and pressing darkness.

At last, a white expanse appeared under my ledge. It was still difficult to tell how far a fall it would be. Too far. I’d shatter every bone in my legs and arms. As far as I could tell, the temple wall beneath me was sheer, so that ruled out dropping from ledge to ledge.

Claws shrieked against stone. I looked up just in time to duck a swinging tail. A dragon flailed, struggling to keep its hold on the temple. It scraped and tried to scramble up again, lashing its tail for balance. The end of the tail was close.

I grabbed the dragon’s tail and jumped.

Screaming, I wrapped my legs around the tail and squeezed as hard as I could. The backpack over my stomach made it difficult to keep my grip, but I ducked my head down and didn’t let go as the tail whipped through the air, flipping me upside down and stopping just short of smacking me into the wall.

Bad idea. Bad idea.

The instant the tail was close to the Councilhouse roof, I let go.

My back hit first. Air whooshed from my lungs. I gasped and coughed as I turned over, barely quick enough to keep from puking on myself. Then I spit until the acidic taste faded.

Above me, my dragon smeared gore across the temple wall, still thrashing as lasers speared its stretched‑ out wings. It gave a last deafening roar as it fell, making the Councilhouse shake when it landed, draped from the roof down.

It had just given me another way to the ground.

I switched my backpack again. My shoulder twinged, but the shooting pain had faded. Whatever had come out of place must have been jarred back when I landed.

Thanking the dying dragon for three things now, I trotted to where its tail and hind legs hung on the south side of the roof. I couldn’t see whether it went all the way to the ground. Regardless, I had to hurry before it slipped the rest of the way; with ice making everything slick, the beast wouldn’t stay here long.

Twice, I skidded on the roof and scraped my palms catching myself, but I reached the dragon’s hind legs just as the body began to shudder. Hoping it was dead, I climbed up its talons and leg, then up the side to its back. The scales were sharp and cold, wet with sleet. But it was a lizard – albeit a huge one adapted for the tundra – and cold‑ blooded, so cold scales should be normal. Maybe.

I scrambled onto its back and used scales like a ladder over the edge of the building. My hands froze and ached, but I didn’t stop moving.

The body convulsed when I was halfway down, near the stretched wings. Everything slipped. I held on tighter, but when it didn’t stabilize again, I leapt onto the wing and slid the rest of the way down, jerking and stumbling over bones beneath the thin, smooth scales.

Wind cut at my face and up my sleeves as I sped down. Finally the slope eased at the wing tips resting on the cobblestones. Momentum threw me onto the ground just as the dragon crashed behind me.

Someone running by stared at me and swore, then tossed a laser in my direction as he headed north. My hands were too cold and stiff to catch the weapon, but I grabbed it off the ground, then tried to decide where I was in relation to Sam’s window. Not far. I scrambled over the dragon’s corpse. The building and beast created a narrow gorge, sheltered from wind and noise.

I found the prison window easily enough, and they hadn’t shut the glass. “Sam? ” I knelt and peered inside the dim room.

Empty.

I sank to my heels and rested my forehead against an iron bar, trying to figure out what could have happened. It was possible he could have escaped, but he barely remembered how to use a data console. Disabling the soul‑ scanners was beyond him. Orrin had been in there, but he was as hopeless as Sam. Stef would have been able to do it, but it probably required tools she didn’t have.

The other possibility was that Li had discovered my absence and known where to find me. She wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Sam.

Then I would avenge him. Li would come back, and like Meuric, she’d hunt me for the rest of her lives, but at least she’d suffer the same soul‑ ripping pain as Sam.

My stomach twisted. When had I become so blasé about killing? My knife was still wet with Meuric’s blood, and I was already thinking about what to do to my mother? I wanted to throw up again, but there was nothing left in me.

Keening and moaning jolted me from my thoughts.

Tall shadows drifted about the dragon’s remains, charring scales. I scrunched my nose at the ashy reek and bolted away from the sylph. They weren’t interested in me yet, and I didn’t have sylph eggs.

I sprinted into the stinging night, battle din rising as I pulled away from the Councilhouse. Airborne drones roared around dragons, shooting lasers every chance they got. The dragons spat globs of acid. I pulled my hood on tight. If anything fell on me, I’d hear it sizzle and I could throw off my coat. It’d work only once, though.

My muscles ached, but I ran as hard as I could, avoiding anything shadowy or glowing green. I wished I had a flashlight or SED – mine had been confiscated – but my knife and laser were better than nothing.

I searched the faces of everyone I passed. Most of them were running, too, and looked like they knew what to do. More than I did, at any rate. None of them were Sam, or my friends. I pushed on, hiding my fists inside my sleeves for warmth.

People and lights and acid piles packed North Avenue. I wished I could duck into the residential quarter, but I didn’t know my way around that maze well enough. Li’s house was right by the guard station, anyway.

I wished I were cowardly enough to hide in someone’s house until everything was over.

Heart’s north wall loomed ahead, brilliant as it reflected light across the guard station. I pushed my weak legs harder. What if Li wasn’t at her house? She was a warrior. No doubt she’d be single‑ handedly killing half the dragons, not waiting for me to confront her.

I focused on rage. She always hurt what mattered to me. Collections of things I’d found in the forest, the purple roses, and Sam’s song. She’d done nothing in my entire life to give me a reason to trust that she wouldn’t kill Sam just to spite me.

Lungs and legs burning, I darted around a trio of children firing lasers into the sky, and skidded to a stop near the guard station. Everything was so bright it made my eyes water. My nose ran from the cold. It seemed like, if I was going to face my mother, I should at least look like I could take care of myself.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and clutched the laser. The path there was familiar by now, though the dead dragon and acid‑ marked cobblestone were new. Shadows lingered everywhere, but none made sylph songs.

Shivering, I stood at the end of her walkway and stared down the front door.

It swung open, framing Li.

She seemed bigger. Angrier. “Where have you been? ” She didn’t move. Li always waited for me to go to her.

I flexed my fingers around the laser grip. “What did you do to Sam? ”

She cocked her head. “Sam? ”

“You heard me. ” I stepped forward. She wasn’t holding anything but the doorknob. I could fire before she could. Maybe. I’d never used a laser; my aim was probably terrible. “What did you do with Sam? He’s not there anymore. ”

“I don’t know what happened to him. ” She checked over her shoulder. Distracted. Agitated. It was natural, considering the war going on around us, but not for Li. She liked conflict. She liked opportunities to see me hurt, and here I was without the one person who meant everything to me, worried he was dead, and she was distracted? “Is that where you went? ”

“He was in prison. Now he’s not. ” I stopped halfway down the walk and straightened my shoulders. The sore one stung, but I tried to make my expression frozen with anger, like she did. I didn’t want her to know how much I hurt.

“Why do you think I’d do something to him? ” Her familiar sneer returned.

“You always do things. It’s what you are. ” I lifted my laser and let my free hand rest on the rosewood handle of Sam’s knife. “You tried to make my life miserable, make me believe that no one could ever care about me. But you’re wrong. Sam does. Sarit, Stef, and the others do. I’m not a nosoul. ” My hand shook as I took aim. “Now tell me what you did to him. ”

Her mouth dropped open.

At first I thought it was shock because I’d finally stood up to her, but then her expression went slack and her eyes focused on nothing. One last flicker of rage, and she crumpled.

Dead.

I staggered backward. A dragon wouldn’t fit inside, and a sylph would have been more obvious. I hadn’t done it.

A man stepped out of the shadows, over my mother’s body, and lowered a handheld laser like mine. “You must be Ana. ” Odd that it took only one small man with a laser to kill her. He didn’t look like much. Short. Clipped auburn hair. Pale.

Oh. I knew those features, though I’d never seen him before.

“I’m Menehem, ” he said. “We should talk. ”