Stormrise

I hesitated, the moment too big for quick words. Telling the truth seemed suddenly terrifying.

“I’ll ask you again,” Jasper said. “How could you know this?”

I took a tremulous breath. “It has to do with dragons, sir.”

Jasper jutted his jaw to the side, his mouth a compressed line. Other than that, his face was unreadable.

“You must be hungry,” he finally said. “Let’s get you some stew, and we’ll talk inside where’s it safer, s’da?”

I walked with him through the archway, the watchtowers like staring sentinels to either side. The interior of the outpost felt exposed, despite the high walls enclosing it, and I shivered. We approached a small fire that looked as though it had been made from debris from the burned buildings. He fished out the dregs of stew from the cookpot and slopped them into a bowl, which he handed to me. I took the bowl and followed him to his tent.

He held the flap and I ducked inside, cradling my bowl and gathering courage to say the words that needed to be spoken.

“One moment,” he said, fumbling in his pocket for a flint.

Seconds later, a small lantern hanging from the cross poles cast its glow. In the flickering light, he looked older. Or perhaps that was the weight of worry on his face.

“You’re going to tell me something I don’t want to hear,” he said.

“I didn’t believe in the dragons, either. And then I met one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The morning you were caught outside camp?”

“Before then.” I watched him closely, marking the practiced expression of patience on his face.

“Go on.”

“You know of The Lament of Nuaga?”

“Not really.”

“It speaks of the sacrifice of the great dragon T’Gonnen, and of the reawakening of his mate Nuaga.” I gauged his response before continuing. “She’s awake.”

“Awake.”

“Yes. She showed me the army and told me about the High King’s Hold.”

“She showed you … how?” His voice was thick with skepticism.

“For whatever reason, she’s decided to reveal herself to me.” I couldn’t tell him about the dragon powder; that would lead to questions I couldn’t answer. “I rode her to the—”

“You rode her?”

I tightened my hands around the bowl of stew. “Yes. That’s how I was able to scout and return so quickly.”

Jasper stared, his mouth working. “I can’t believe this. Not any of it.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“No. But perhaps you’re lying to yourself. Seeing things that aren’t there.”

“You saw her. You all saw her. But you tried to make yourself believe her appearance was some sort of trick. It wasn’t. She was there, and I was with her.”

Jasper rubbed his jaw. Slowly. Methodically. “Assuming this is true, why would a dragon seek you out? I’d think it more likely that it would kill you.”

“The dragons are loyal to Ylanda,” I said. “They mean us no harm.” I hesitated, then leaned forward. “I know this is hard to believe. It took me a long time to believe it myself. But I’m asking you to trust me.” I sat back.

“What else has this … dragon … told you?”

“That Tan Vey is right—killing the high king will give him not only the kingdom, but also the service of the dragons. Nuaga doesn’t wish to serve the nomads.”

“So Tan Vey also knows about the High King’s Hold.”

“It seems so,” I said. “His army is marching to the northwest.”

“Perhaps a week away, then.”

“It was a five-day march from where I saw them today.”

“That will be four, come morning.” He hadn’t questioned my calculation.

“Sir,” I said. “The dragons are sleeping in catacombs beneath the High King’s Hold. Let me go with Nuaga to wake them. We can get there faster.”

“You’re asking me to let you leave your unit to ride a dragon to the hold so you can … wake more dragons?”

“Yes.”

Jasper shook his head and, for a moment, looked like words failed him. Then he sighed. “You’ve brought helpful information about Tan Vey’s troops. I’m grateful. But I’m not sending you on some … dragon’s errand.”

Desperation welled up. “Please, Commander Jasper. Let me do this.”

“You’ll travel with your unit to the hold, as planned. If, when we get there, we discover there’s a dragon waiting for you … I won’t stop you.”

“There’s not enough time,” I said. “I can get there faster with Nuaga.”

“Yesterday we lost two men,” Jasper said. “Those who remain are soldiers in the high king’s army, under my command. We’re a unit, and no man leaves that unit.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off.

“No man.”

I looked into my bowl. “Understood, sir.”

“We’ll leave at first light for the High King’s Hold,” Jasper said. “Please don’t speak of this to anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you, Storm. You’ve done well.”

His expression didn’t match the words of praise. I nodded and slipped from the tent, my heart in my feet. There were no tears as I made my way to the fire with my bowl of stew, though—only Jasper’s words, tumbling through my brain over and over.

No man leaves that unit. No man.

I wasn’t a man.

Forest and the other trackers still hadn’t returned when I dragged myself into my tent several hours later. Darkness had barely fallen, but my body begged for sleep. I’d requested third watch, which would not only ensure that I’d be awakened three hours before dawn but also give me the perfect opportunity to slip away.

In the silence of the tent, visions of the battlefield crept into my brain, raw and unrelenting. Dead, staring faces … trampled bodies … the sickening scent of rotting flesh.

I rolled onto my side and sobbed out the pain of the last two days. Cedar and Mandrake, the battlefield of corpses, the dead children in the mud. I wept until my throat ached and snot ran into my mouth. When I had nothing left, I wiped my face on my blanket and hiccuped my way to sleep.

Some time later, I awoke to the sound of Forest taking off his boots. I lay still, not wanting him to know he’d disturbed me. But he leaned over in the darkness, his face near mine, his voice a whisper.

“Storm?”

“I’m awake.” My face felt sticky.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“All you see is a girl. Like nothing else could possibly be true about me.”

“That’s not it.” His voice was gravelly. “I just wonder why I’m here sometimes. I feel like an imposter. And when Jasper let you do exactly what you asked … I don’t know. I was jealous.”

Something like satisfaction settled in my belly. “You’re not an imposter. And I forgive you.”

“I was worried about you all day.”

My breath stilled. “You were worried?”

“Well, yes.” He moved away, and in a few seconds I heard him fussing with his blankets. “What did you find? Anything?”

I hesitated. “I saw the battlefield. Thousands of dead soldiers and a small village in ruins.”

“Was there any sign of Tan Vey’s army?”

“Yes. A huge force.” I rolled onto my back and folded my arms beneath my head. “They took prisoners, too. A hundred or two of our men.”

For a few moments, Forest lay in heavy silence. “What’s Jasper going to do?”

“I don’t know. I gave him some information that I apparently wasn’t supposed to have, and he … I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“You know I’d never tell anyone anything you said, don’t you?” Forest said.

“I know that.” And I did.

“Do you have feelings for him?”

My heart faltered. “Why do you say that?”

I heard Forest settle himself onto the ground and pull his blanket up. “I see the way you look at him.”

“I don’t look at him any certain way.”

“Yes, you do,” Forest said. “Probably he can’t see it because he’s not expecting it. He doesn’t know you’re—anyway. Be careful with that.”

My mouth was dry as dust. “It’s not like that, Forest. I admire him and I want to exceed his expectations of me. That’s all you see.” My breath felt shallow. “I’m not here to give my heart to anyone. I’m here to fight for the high king.”

“I know why you’re here,” Forest said. “I’m only telling you to be careful.”

His voice was gentler than I’d heard it. Tender. Confusion washed over me, and I was overwhelmed with a desire to tell him how much more his esteem meant than Jasper’s. But I brushed it away and forced my next words to sound casual and unaffected.

“If he knew what I really was, he’d have me arrested.”

“There’s no one to arrest you out here.”

“Then he’d kill me himself,” I said. “I’m not stupid.”

My words must have come out more harshly than I’d intended, because Forest let out a long, slow breath and went silent. I started to think he had fallen asleep.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” His words fell like stones.

I lay for a while, my heart aching dully. Waves of longing gave way to the piercing knowledge that I had hurt Forest somehow, which sent a sinking feeling to my stomach. I kept listening for the low, even breathing that meant he was asleep, but it never came.

“Did you find anything today?” I said into the silence.

Forest moved; he must have been turning toward me. “Nothing. It was a long day of nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Sounds like your day was harder than mine.”

His kindness broke me. In a rush, I told him the details of my day. It poured out of me in a flood of words and emotion—the broken bodies, the horror of so much death spread out like a grisly sea, riding upon Nuaga’s back to spy upon Tan Vey’s army, my decision to return to Jasper even though Nuaga wanted to leave immediately. He listened without interruption, without judgment. The longer I spoke, the faster the words tumbled and the greater the trembling inside me. When I’d told him everything, I took a deep breath.

“Thanks for listening.”

In the darkness, his fingertips brushed my palm, and he curled his hand around mine. “I’m with you. Whatever happens, s’da?”

His touch felt so reassuring—and stole my breath. “Tan Vey’s army will reach the hold in four days, which gives us barely enough time to get there first. But the only way to protect the high king at this point is to wake the dragons—and I’m the only one who can do that.”

“And you’ve explained this to Jasper.”

“Yes. But he won’t release me.”

“And you think he’s wrong.”

“Nuaga and I could get there in a day. I’m sure of it.”

“How much powder do you have left?”

I wrinkled my brow. “Plenty, why?”

“If it takes us four days to get there, you’ll still be able to talk with her when we arrive, right? It might not be the fastest way, but it does give you time to help Jasper see reason about the dragons.”

“True.”

Forest was silent for a bit, his thumb stroking my hand and sending shivers up my arm. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“I might be.”

“I won’t try to stop you.”

I sighed. “It would be better if you didn’t know. You’ve already risked so much, keeping my secret.”

“It’s nothing. Just … be careful.”

I nodded in the dark, though he couldn’t see me. “I will.”

My hand remained in his as he fell asleep, and as drowsiness claimed me, I was comforted by the fact that I’d found, in the midst of so much difficulty, the best friend I’d ever had. And the greatest love I would ever know.

“Storm.”

River’s voice on the outside of the tent cut through my sleep like a blade. I grabbed my boots and ducked outside, ready to take his post.

“See you at dawn,” he whispered, and shuffled to his own tent.

I dressed quickly, grateful for the warm cloak. Coast, who was taking this watch with me, met me at the archway. He nodded, then adjusted his breastplate and leaned against the arch on the opposite side. I was certain he’d never taken me seriously, even after all these weeks. Maybe it was my smooth face. Now that everyone had stopped shaving, his face was swathed in a thick beard that crept around the edges of his jaw.

I’d still beaten him at Neshu, though. Every time.

I stayed at my post until the stars told me nearly three hours had passed. The night was still dark, but the horizon bore a hint of paled black. I took a slow breath to still my racing heart.

“I need to piss,” I said.

Coast inclined his head, and I turned from him and made my way along the outside of the stone wall. I followed it to the end of the far tower and turned left as though meaning to relieve myself on the side. When I had gone another twenty paces, I stopped, my ears straining for the sound of footsteps, though I knew Coast wouldn’t leave his post.

Not yet, anyway. I wondered how long it would take him to suspect that I wasn’t coming back.

Nuaga, I mind-spoke. I’m here.

I’m waiting.

I knew she was hidden among the near trees as surely as I knew my own location. Her warmth, her scent, the strength of her legs as they bore her mighty weight—my heart and spirit were imbued with every part of her.

Dragon-sisters. United by the power of T’Gonnen.

I tensed my legs, ready to run.

The faintest crack of a dry twig sent a cold rush up my spine. I froze, pressing my back against the stone and listening.

There. Another sound, faint but unmistakable.

Barely breathing, I drew my dagger, then inched along the wall and around the tower toward the front. As I rounded the curve of the tower, a figure, facing the other way, loomed suddenly before me. I stifled a gasp and stepped back, fear gripping me so hard that, for a moment, I couldn’t move.

I held my breath. He hadn’t seen me.

If I ran, I might get away unseen. But where there was one enemy soldier, there were others. How many were there? Surely Coast would see them and sound the alarm.

But all was silent.

I took two steps toward the soldier, whose back was still facing me. He wore a hefty breastplate of braided leather with long sleeves of fur covering his arms. A thick coil of braided hair hung down his back.

This wasn’t like a Neshu match at all. This was killing, plain and simple.

Seconds passed. My life or his. My men’s lives or his.

I thought of stabbing the stuffed doll over and over, raw hatred spilling from me like vomit. I thought of the many times Jasper had drilled into us that our enemies must become faceless. That there was no room for mercy on the battlefield.

This was no battlefield. And yet, this was war.

Great God, forgive me.

With all the strength in me, I grabbed his braids and yanked his head back. Before he had time to yell, I drew my dagger across his neck.

Like slicing a cucumber.

He fell soundlessly at my feet. My blade, dark with his blood, dropped from my hand like a stone, and I staggered back, breaths coming too fast, too shallow.

“Nuaga.” It was more like a gasp than a word. “Nuaga, help.”

Her voice came, sharp and commanding. Come to me. Come away from death.

I shook my head clear and picked up my dagger, wiping it on the grass without looking directly at it. My hand trembled as I closed it around the hilt, holding the blade before me as I crept around the body and peered through the blackness. Sure enough, the dark shapes of enemy soldiers moved silently, taking positions in a wide arc outside the entrance to the outpost.

My heart lurched. They must have killed Coast and were now merely waiting for the light to attack the rest of the men inside. My men. Who had no idea they were surrounded by the enemy.

Rain L’nahn!

I took several steps backward, fear and indecision momentarily weakening me. Then I turned and ran toward the trees, not slowing until I reached the outer edge. I crashed through undergrowth and saplings and came to a stumbling stop at Nuaga’s feet.

“Nomads,” I said between heaving breaths. “Surrounding the outpost.”

“There is nothing more you could have done,” Nuaga said.

“I have to warn them.”

Nuaga cocked her head. “You have fulfilled your duty to your commander. Your duty to Kingdom Ylanda looms larger.”

I balled my hands into fists. Was this the sacrifice I would have to make? Knowing that Jasper and the others would face certain death at the hands of an unknown number of soldiers I might have warned them about? Letting myself believe that their loss would serve the greater good?

T’Gonnen hadn’t sacrificed others. He’d sacrificed himself.

“I can’t leave them, Nuaga.”

She studied me, and understanding deeper than time filled her eyes. “Then I will do as you ask. We are sisters, you and I.”

A moment of dread gripped me. Was this reckless? Would I die, and would the chance for Ylanda’s salvation die with me?

I swung myself onto Nuaga’s neck. I couldn’t save the high king without first saving the men marching to his rescue.

Her gait was smooth and rapid, and the air stung my face as I squinted into it. The sky had changed from velvet to downy gray, and I smelled the smoke of the morning fire as we approached from the northern side. Nuaga took a running leap over the wall—higher than I had dreamed she could possibly jump—and landed neatly among the burned-out buildings. My heart squeezed within me as I saw my men milling about, fastening cloaks and warming their hands by the small blaze. River had just led the horses to an open patch of grass to graze.

“We’re under attack!” I yelled as Nuaga veered toward our row of tents and came to a stop. “Arm yourselves!”

Heads turned and eyes grew wide as I slid from Nuaga’s back and ran toward them. In the same instant, a deafening roar shattered the morning air as a mass of nomad soldiers poured through the archway, swords drawn. For several panicked heartbeats, nothing around me felt real. Forest shouted something, and the tumult of battle erupted around me. I drew my sword and tried to make sense of the chaos. For the second time that morning, terror rooted me to the ground as though I were a tree. An ancient stone. I watched Forest’s blanket roll fall and his cloak slide to the ground as he released its clasp, freeing himself to fight.

Cloak. I had to get it off. I couldn’t fight like this.

But I still couldn’t move.

Rain.

Someone screamed, and the clash of metal against metal brought me to my senses. I was reaching for the clasp of my cloak when one of the nomads pushed through the fighting, coming right at me. I drew my sword a second too late, then twisted to my left to avoid the blade that swiped so close to my side I felt it graze my ear. In an instant, Forest cut in front of me and sliced his blade beneath the soldier’s arm. I kicked the soldier in the neck as he swung around to attack Forest. He fell backward, and Forest plunged his sword into the man’s throat.

The earth tilted and spun. Faces and bodies blurred before me, and I couldn’t tell friend from foe. It was a maelstrom of color and movement and terror, and I couldn’t find my bearings.

There were too many enemy soldiers. Too many.

I tightened my grip on my sword.

Lead them, Rain.

In a movement so swift and powerful it took my breath away, Nuaga swept in, disrupting the battle and trampling whatever lay in her path. Then she raised her head to the sky and bellowed. It was like no sound I had ever heard—like thunder and storm and the cry of a man in distress. The horses screamed and ran free.

“Run!” I shouted to Dalen and River. “Toward the back of the outpost!”

Frantically, I looked for others. Already enemy soldiers were dropping their swords and scrambling to get out of Nuaga’s way, but many were still fighting. Nuaga opened her mouth and breathed on the campfire; it erupted into an enormous tongue of flame that licked heavenward and ignited the rotted timbers of the tower roofs, even as arrows pierced her neck and back. Many nomads fell screaming, their bodies aflame.

“Run!” I yelled to Briar.

I turned to see Sedge already running, and Kendel, too, though he limped. He stumbled to his knees as Dalen and Flint came up on either side of him, pulling him up and half-dragging him between them. Forest called my name as he ran, looking over his shoulder and slowing down when he saw that I wasn’t running, too.

Because I had just seen Jasper fall near the edge of the flames.

“Storm!” Forest called again as Nuaga sent out a second blast of hot air, this time toward the wooden stable.

Rain! Go!

“Run!” I called to Forest, desperate for him to reach safety. “I’m right behind you!”

I ran toward Jasper instead. Toward the chaos.

Toward death.

Jasper lay on the ground, his sword knocked from his hand, the enemy soldier bearing down as if the fire weren’t inches from them. I yelled and sprinted toward them, kicking the blade from the enemy’s hand a half-second before it made contact with Jasper. He retrieved the weapon and was on me in a moment, our blades cracking together with such force that I was almost knocked from my feet.

Within several heaved breaths, I could tell that my skill, compared to his, was lacking. In a moment of clarity, I shifted my focus to Neshu and, giving a Great Cry, used my sword to knock his knife arm off course. Then I kicked the sword from his hand and dropped my own.

Undaunted, he drew his dagger from his back at the same time I drew mine. There was no time to center my breathing, no time to assess anything. There was only the choice between my death and his.

He came at me quickly, and I parried just as Jasper rose up with a fierce growl and threw himself onto my attacker. I dove forward as the two landed hard in the dirt, yelling myself hoarse as I came at the enemy soldier’s throat with my dagger.

Stuffed soldier.

Living man.

Slicing cucumbers.

My dagger dripping with blood, I turned to Jasper, who was rolling slowly onto his side, his face a grimace of pain.

“Get up!” I yelled.

He tried but fell back.

“Get up!”

I reached my arm around him, tucking myself under his armpit, and pulled him to his feet with a strength I didn’t know I had. He staggered, leaning heavily on me, as I made my way toward our escape. The fire’s heat made it hard to breathe, and when Jasper stumbled to his knees, I knew we weren’t going to make it.

Through the smoke, Nuaga appeared by our side, arrows sprouting from her like branches. She swung her head around and gave Jasper a nudge while I strained to pull him onto her back, which was slick with her blood—I had to pull two arrows out to make room for Jasper. We were barely secure when a nomad soldier yelled and thrust his sword deep into Nuaga’s side. She extended her neck and roared with a sound that surely curled mountaintops as she trampled the soldier underfoot. Then, in a flash, she turned and bore us swiftly away.