I had never climbed so many steps in my life.
This is ridiculous. Why didn’t anyone tell me that this council was held at the very top of a mountain, and the only way you could get there was climb or fly? With a groan, I pushed myself to my feet, secretly wishing, for perhaps the first time, that I could make this journey in my real form. Around me, the rocky cliffs rose straight into the air, soaring to jagged, impossible heights. The winding trail up the side of the mountain was narrow at the best of times and completely treacherous otherwise. The stone steps were slick, crumbling with age, and there were no railings, handholds or barriers of any kind between me and a sheer drop down the side of the mountain. The temple was isolated, as far from civilization as you could get. If I had known I would be climbing what felt like a few thousand steps to reach my objective, I might’ve saved myself the trouble and flown there. Sadly, I had only the one suit, and I wasn’t inclined to ruin it by Shifting. Besides, though I had no way of knowing, I suspected this was a test of some sort, that they were watching to see what the impatient hatchling would do. If I showed up at the council of ancient Eastern dragons in my real form, they would know I had failed, and I hated failing.
Overhead, the sky was mottled with clouds, and some of the peaks had vanished into the blanket of gray and white. The temple, I hoped, would be just beyond the cloud bank.
Checking my watch, I took a deep breath and continued climbing.
The clouds closed around me, a solid wall of white that muffled everything, and the trail shrank to a sliver of stone between the side of the cliff and open air. Setting my jaw, I pushed upward, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and not losing my balance.
And then, the steps ended, the clouds disappeared and I was staring at a magnificent temple perched at the very top of the mountain. Weathered gray walls and a sweeping, clay-tiled roof stood against the blue of the sky, with one of the balconies overlooking a sheer drop down the side of the cliff face. The temple looked as ancient as the mountain itself; I wondered how old it really was…if it had been built with the intent to house a dragon.
A single monk, bald and dressed in somber black robes, stood beside the doors as I approached. I hoped he wouldn’t try to speak with me—my Mandarin was all but nonexistent—but he silently bowed and stepped aside for me to pass. I walked down a very long corridor, lit only with flickering candles in nooks or atop brass stands, until deep, ancient voices began vibrating the stones at my feet.
Outside a pair of enormous wooden doors trimmed in gold, I paused, taking a moment to breathe, to calm the emotions fluttering inside. You are not just a hatchling, I told myself. You are the heir to Talon, the Voice of the Elder Wyrm herself, and they will respect that position or face the wrath of the organization.
Opening my eyes, I raised my head, pushed back the doors and strode into the chamber, smiling as I did.
Six pairs of ancient, all-knowing eyes turned on me. A round stone table stood in the center of the room, surrounded by pillars, candle stands and a half-dozen Adult Eastern dragons, all in human form. They wore long flowing robes of various colors and billowing sleeves, and the weight of their combined stares nearly knocked the air from my lungs.
As the doors groaned shut behind me, I faced the roomful of dragons and bowed, feeling their gazes on the back of my neck. “Please forgive my tardiness,” I said, holding the bow. “The climb up the mountain was…steeper than I first imagined. I hope I have not kept you long.”
“You,” one of the females said, her smooth voice tinged with anger. She was an older woman, smaller than me by several inches, with silver-gray hair braided down her back and piercing dark eyes. “How dare you come here, demanding an audience with the council, mere days after Talon brutally attacks our kind for no reason? You slaughter our people, burn our temples to the ground, send those… abominations to destroy us, and now you have the audacity to stand before us in the name of peace and cooperation.” Her eyes started to glow an ominous yellow as the outline of her true form—a massive red dragon with a golden mane and horns—flickered overhead for a split second. “Tell me, hatchling, why shouldn’t we kill you here and now? What can you possibly do to stop us?”
I kept my voice polite, nonthreatening. As if this were a perfectly normal meeting, and I felt no fear whatsoever. “There is nothing I can do, should you decide to end my life,” I said calmly. “However, that course of action is not advisable. If you kill me, Talon will show you no mercy whatsoever.”
The woman gave a brittle laugh. “That is supposed to frighten us?” she mocked. “Talon has already shown us the extent of its ‘mercy.’”
“Forgive me, but I have to disagree,” I said, joining them at the table. “Everything you’ve seen so far? That was only the tip of the iceberg. Right now, Talon’s attention is dispersed—our operations in the US and England are taking much of our time. If you kill me, it will turn the full force of its gaze on this temple and everyone in it.” I met the woman’s eyes, unchallenging, but unafraid. “I am the blood of the Elder Wyrm and the heir to the most powerful organization in the world,” I stated calmly. “You do not want the Elder Wyrm to make this personal.”
“Enough,” said one of the others, an old man with a white beard and thin mustache down the front of his chest. Ancient black eyes gazed at me across the table. “You did not come to us simply to test our patience,” he said. “If Talon sent you here alone, they must be very confident in whatever you are about to say. Speak, then, and let us be done with it.”
I bowed my head respectfully. “Thank you.” Facing them all, their expressions ranging from anger to distrust to calm indifference, I took a furtive breath.
“You have all seen the power Talon now commands,” I began. “The Night of Fang and Fire struck not only here, but at all St. George bases around the world. Our forces took them by surprise, and the dragonslayers fell before the might of Talon. The Order of St. George has been wiped out. The war is finished, and the dragonslayers are no more.”
If the Eastern dragons felt surprise or dismay at the news, they hid it perfectly. “Our enemies have been put down,” I went on. “St. George will no longer threaten us. The rogue dragons will no longer threaten us. The only opposition Talon has left…is right here.
“We shouldn’t be enemies,” I continued before they could mount an argument, or accuse me of threats. “We are the same, and all dragons should be united under one banner. Join us. Accept the gift the Elder Wyrm is offering your people. With your wisdom and Talon’s power, we can make our race even stronger.”
“And if we do not?” Another dragon spoke, a beardless man with his hair pulled into a long tail that reached the small of his back. He was the youngest dragon at the table, and probably older than me by several centuries. “If we refuse this ‘gift’?”
“You’ve seen what Talon can do.” My voice didn’t falter; I could not falter, even in this. “You know that our power rivals even yours. The Elder Wyrm does not want this to be a fight. She believes we can come to an agreement that will benefit both sides. But if you refuse, you declare yourselves enemies of Talon, and we will respond accordingly.”
“And you will have ‘no choice’ but to destroy us,” the old male dragon said, and smiled humorlessly. “So, it is the most ancient of ultimatums—join us or die. That is what you are really saying, is that not correct, hatchling?”
“Yes,” I said, no longer willing to sugarcoat it when the intent was obvious. “It is.”
No one seemed surprised by this. Most of them simply nodded, as if that’s what they’d figured all along. “We will need time to think on your offer,” the male dragon said, and gestured to a door off to the side. “If you would give us a few minutes to speak among ourselves, we will call for you when we have an answer.”
I bowed and stepped away. “Of course.”
“Before you go, Dante Hill,” another dragon said, the younger male with the ponytail down his back. “I believe this is for you.”
Surprised, I watched as he gestured to a monk, who approached me and held out a rolled piece of parchment. “One of our own was here a short time ago,” the dragon explained as I took the scroll. The paper was dry and cracked, yet surprisingly strong. “She urged us to join with the rogue dragons of the West, against your organization. I cannot help but think that she was correct all along.”
“Shen.” The older male dragon frowned at him. “We discussed this. For days. It was put to a vote, and the council made its decision.”
“Regardless,” the younger man went on, a brief flash of annoyance going through his eyes, “after she left, she contacted us a few days later, with a message to pass on to you. Specifically you.” My confusion must’ve showed on my face, for he gave a small shrug. “Do not ask how she knew you were coming—merely a hunch, she told us. But she wanted to make certain that, should you ever arrive, you received that letter.” The dragon shook his head in what could almost be awe. “Her intuitions are rarely incorrect. Were I you, Dante Hill, I would pay careful attention to what she has to tell you.”
* * *
The room the monk led me to was stark and empty, a cold wind blowing in from an open window. I dared a peek outside and saw the staggeringly long drop down the side of the mountain. There weren’t any chairs or even a stool to sit on, so I stood at the window with the mountain air cold against my back and unrolled the scroll. It was written in a fine, elegant script, and my name, in the blackest of inks, graced the top of the page.
Dante Hill,
If you are reading this letter, it means a gamble of mine has paid off, and that Talon has sent someone to speak to the Eastern council one last time. I suspected that it would be you. I regret that I cannot be there in person, but I must return to those who need me most.
You don’t know me; we have never met in person, but we share a common connection: your sister, Ember. I met Ember when I traveled to the United States to investigate the Order of St. George. She is a remarkable young woman. Intelligent, determined, resourceful—traits I’m sure she shares with you. My heart aches for the burden that she carries, that you both carry; war is painful enough without having to fight your own family.
I felt a strange lump rise to my throat. I never meant for Ember and I to be on the opposite sides of a war. Even now, with everything that had happened, I couldn’t think of her as the enemy. But I was the heir to Talon, and I had responsibilities I could not ignore, even for family. This person, whomever she was, seemed to understand that.
Swallowing hard, I continued reading.
You may choose to ignore my words; we are on opposite sides, after all, and I am the enemy of Talon, according to the Elder Wyrm. But, for your sister’s sake, I ask that you consider what I’m about to tell you very carefully. The Elder Wyrm has plans for Ember, plans that she does not share with you, Dante. There is no easier way to say this, so I will come out with it directly: Ember Hill was created to be the Elder Wyrm’s vessel. She intends to use your sister to extend her own life, to achieve immortality.
The scroll shook in my hands. For a moment, I considered crumpling the paper and hurling it out the open window, but I forced myself to continue reading the last few lines on the page.
If you wish to know more, I’m certain you can uncover the truth when you return to Talon; much like your twin, you are intelligent and resourceful, and the only way for you to truly realize what the Elder Wyrm plans for Ember is to discover it for yourself.
A friend of your sister,
—Jade
I folded the scroll and tucked it into my suit pocket, feeling numb.
My first reaction was that this was a trap, a scheme of Cobalt and the rogues, to target me and make me question the organization. Of course it had to be a trick. I was the heir of Talon and the second in command, poised to take over the company in a few years. The Elder Wyrm wouldn’t keep something like this from me.
And yet… I knew that was a lie. I wasn’t so naive as to think that the Elder Wyrm, the oldest, most powerful dragon in the world, would share all her secrets with me. And if this was true, what then? I couldn’t defy Talon, and I certainly couldn’t challenge the Elder Wyrm, not if I wanted to keep my position. Or even my life. I’d come too far, worked too hard, to give up everything now.
The door to the room opened with a creak and the monk stepped inside. “The council is ready for you,” he announced. “Please follow me.”
My mind spun as I walked the long hallway into the inner chamber again. Six ancient dragons waited for me with their answer for the Elder Wyrm, but I could barely focus. Besides, I knew what they were going say even before I set foot in the chamber.
“Dante Hill.” The oldest-looking dragon rose from his seat, observing me over the table. “Blood of the Elder Wyrm. You can return to Talon with this message—the Eastern council has come to a decision, and the answer is no. We will not be joining Talon, now or anytime in the future. If this results in our destruction, then so be it. Your organization will have to survive without us.”
“Very well.” I bowed to them all and stepped away, suddenly eager to leave. “I will return to the Elder Wyrm with your answer. I am sorry that we could not come to an accord, that we could not change the world together.”
The old dragon’s eyes glittered. “The world the Elder Wyrm envisions is not a world for us,” he said, and his last words followed me out of the chamber, haunting my steps. “I wonder if you yourself realize what type of world you are helping to bring about.”