I followed Dante and his vessels down the long, dimly lit corridor, despair and resignation making me feel hollow inside. We had failed. We had given this our all, and had come up short. Talon had been one step ahead of us at all times, and now, everyone I knew was going to die. Riley, the hatchlings, the dragonells and the Order; they were still out there fighting Talon, not knowing that we had been caught. They would keep fighting until Talon killed them all, down to the last hatchling, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Something touched the back of my arm, soft and hesitant. I glanced over and saw Garret’s bleak, tortured expression as he gazed straight ahead.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not meeting my eyes. “I couldn’t get us there. I should’ve seen this coming, found another way.”
“No.” Raising both my cuffed hands, I clutched his sleeve, clinging to him like he was a lifeline, keeping me from drowning. “This isn’t your fault, Garret. We all knew the risks going in. But…” I stole a glance at Dante, walking several yards in front of us, and lowered my voice to be certain only Garret could hear. “Don’t hate me for this,” I whispered, forcing my voice not to tremble, “but I need you to promise me something, Garret.”
He gave me a puzzled look, and I swallowed hard. “The Elder Wyrm,” I went on shakily. “I can’t be a vessel for her. If she wins, and takes over my body, she’ll live for another thousand years. If…if there’s a chance, if you see an opening, I… I want you to—”
Garret’s voice was strangled. “You can’t ask me to do that.”
“Please, Garret.” My vision blurred, and I blinked hard, forcing the tears back. “I don’t know if I can do it myself. But I can’t let her extend her life. If I’m going to die, anyway… I’d rather it be you. There might not be an opening, but if there is…please end it. Before it’s too late for everyone. Promise me.”
His eyes closed, an anguished look crossing his face. “All right,” he whispered. “If there’s a chance, I’ll do it. But you have to promise something in return. The Elder Wyrm—if you see an opening to take her out, do it. Don’t worry about me or the rest of us. Like you said, we’re going to die, anyway. But if there’s the slightest chance of getting to the Elder Wyrm…”
A lump rose to my throat, and I nodded shakily. “I’ll give it my all.”
Dante led us down several more hallways, then through a pair of double doors that opened into a large chamber. It was dark, the only light coming from several huge screens that hung on the far wall. There was no sound, but the screens flickered and pulsed, each showing an image of the chaos outside. Dragons zipped through the air, men scurried over the ground and gouts of flame lit up the room. The enormous body of a strange Adult Eastern dragon coiled through the air, being pursued by a half dozen vessels, and my heart leaped. It looked like Jade had come, after all, and had brought reinforcements. Though it wouldn’t matter now; we hadn’t been able to complete the mission that everyone was dying for. Desperately, I looked for a dark blue dragon among the frenzied swarms, but if Riley was still alive out there, I couldn’t see him.
Beneath the flickering screens, an enormous desk sat on a raised dais, two stone-faced vessels standing guard at the bottom of the steps. The tall leather chair behind the desk was turned away from us. I felt the enormous power radiating from that seat, and knew who sat there even though I couldn’t see her.
Dante led us across the room and came to a stop at the edge of the steps. For a moment, there was silence. The presence in the chair didn’t speak, continuing to watch the atrocities play out on-screen. Then her voice drifted up, quiet and calm, but seeming to vibrate the room with power.
“Why did you bring them here?”
My insides recoiled, cringing back in both revulsion and terror, as the familiar voice of the Elder Wyrm rang through my head.
“I ordered that only my daughter be taken alive, Dante,” the Elder Wyrm went on, still not turning to look at us. “The rogue Basilisk and the soldiers of St. George are of no interest to me. Why did you not kill them?”
“Forgive me, ma’am,” Dante said in a solemn yet unruffled voice, his gaze on the back of the chair. “I thought you might want to look upon the faces of your enemies and destroy them yourself. To let them know the true power of Talon, and why no one can stand against us.”
“Do not presume to know what I would want, Dante.” Without a squeak, the chair swiveled, revealing the woman behind the desk, and the piercing intensity of the Elder Wyrm’s gaze hit us full-on. Tristan whispered a curse, and Mist’s breath escaped her as she sank to her knees, as the massive presence of the Elder Wyrm filled the chamber from floor to ceiling. Only the vessels seemed unaffected, their guns steady and unmoving, their expressions blank even in the presence of the oldest dragon in the world. Dante bowed, his gaze on the tile, as the leader of Talon rose and walked around the desk, observing us like she would a dirty spot on the floor.
“Daughter.” Her gaze found mine, ancient and terrifying, and I had to force myself to keep breathing. “Here you are again, defying me. Only now, you commit the greatest atrocity of all and stand with the Order of St. George.” She shook her head almost sadly. “Disappointing. But I will deal with you momentarily.”
Her cool gaze shifted to the soldiers, to Garret, Tristan and Peter Matthews, and hardened with darkest hate. “St. George. It has been many, many decades since I have laid eyes on any of you. And now, you stand before me, in the company of dragons. Dragons you have allied with, even though the revered Code of St. George strictly forbids associating with demons. How quickly you humans seem to break your sacred oaths when you are in danger of extinction.”
“You bitch,” Peter Matthews growled, though his voice came out shaky. “We were right to hunt you. If we had managed to exterminate all you lizards back then, we wouldn’t be here now.”
The Elder Wyrm turned her cold gaze on the soldier. “As ever, you humans remain blatantly shortsighted and ignorant,” she remarked. “It was St. George that caused me to form Talon all those years ago. It was the human’s persecution of dragons that caused us to band together for survival. Because you could not see beyond your own hate and fear. Because you were convinced dragons were monsters, and thus needed to be exterminated.” She pointed a manicured nail at the defiant solder. “You are responsible for Talon, you and the rest of your kind who would hate us because we are not human. And you are accountable for what will happen to the rest of humanity. The death of every human, every soul who opposes Talon—be it man, woman or child—is on the head of the Order of St. George.”
Peter Matthews didn’t answer, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan stagger, as if the Elder Wyrm’s words hit him hard. “You can’t do that,” he protested. “You can’t declare war on the entire human race.”
“Why not? St. George certainly had no compulsions against declaring war on us. What made you think we would not retaliate?” She smiled again, her eyes glittering green in the shadows. “You are weak, St. George,” she stated. “The entire human race is weak, violent, hypocritical and prone to self-destruction. Through the long ages I have been alive, I have seen it time and time again—the war and devastation humans bring, even to their own. Those who are different, who see life in ways other than yours, you declare ‘evil,’ and use that as an excuse to persecute and destroy. It has been this way since the beginning. And it will not change without intervention. Well…”
The Elder Wyrm turned and gazed at the screens again. “Intervention has come,” she stated. “We will bring a new age to humanity, one where they will live in peace with dragons, because we will force them to. That is the only action humans understand, and if we must slaughter half the human race to make them see reason, so be it. But first, we must destroy the traitors within our own race to proceed. Dante.”
At the base of the steps, Dante looked up, his face expressionless. “Ma’am.”
“Have you seen enough of the battle? Do we know where the sniper fire is coming from?”
Tristan jerked as Dante nodded once. “Yes. I’ve determined the trajectory—it’s coming from the eastern side of the mountain, about half a mile away.”
“Then launch the second phase.” Her cold gaze found mine. “As long as they are here, I want them to see their rebellion die. I want my daughter to understand why she should never have opposed us.”
I locked eyes with my brother, pleading. He met my stare, his expression as remote as ever, then reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a phone. “Lilith,” he said, holding my gaze as he spoke into the device, “the sniper fire is coming from the east. Remove it, kill the Eastern dragons and destroy the rest of the attackers. Leave no one alive.”