Today, we strike back. We show Talon that we will never accept their new world.

Hill has learned a shocking truth about herself: she is the blood of the Elder Wyrm, the ancient dragon who leads Talon and who is on the verge of world domination. With the Order of St. George destroyed, Ember, Riley and Garret journey to the Amazon jungle in search of one who might hold the key to take down the Elder Wyrm and Talon. If they can survive the encounter.

Meanwhile, Ember’s brother, Dante, will travel to China with a message for the last Eastern dragons: join Talon or die. With the stakes rising and the Elder Wyrm declaring war, time is running out for the rogues and any dragon not allied with Talon.

The final battle approaches. And if Talon is victorious, the world will burn.

JULIE KAGAWA is the internationally bestselling author of The Iron Fey, Blood of Eden and The Talon Saga series. Born in Sacramento, she has been a bookseller and an animal trainer and enjoys reading, painting, playing in her garden and training in martial arts. She lives near Louisville, Kentucky, with her husband and a plethora of pets. Visit her at www.juliekagawa.com.

Also By Julie Kagawa

The Talon Saga

Talon

Rogue

Soldier

Legion

Inferno

Blood of Eden series

Dawn of Eden (prequel novella)+

The Immortal Rules

The Eternity Cure

The Forever Song

The Iron Fey series***

The Iron King*

Winter’s Passage (ebook novella)**

The Iron Daughter*

The Iron Queen

Summer’s Crossing (ebook novella)**

The Iron Knight

Iron’s Prophecy (ebook novella)**

The Lost Prince

The Iron Traitor

The Iron Warrior

Inferno

Julie Kagawa

Copyright

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Julie Kagawa 2018

Julie Kagawa asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9781474060660

To Tashya. Together we can slay dragons.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part I

Ember

Garret

Riley

Ember

Riley

Dante

Riley

Ember

Garret

Ember

Garret

Riley

Ember

Part II

Dante

Ember

Riley

Garret

Riley

Garret

Riley

Ember

Riley

Dante

Garret

Dante

Ember

Garret

Part III

Riley

Garret

Dante

Ember

Garret

Riley

Ember

Riley

Ember

Riley

Ember

Riley

Ember

Riley

Garret

Riley

Ember

Epilogue

Riley

Garret

Ember

Extract

Author Note

About the Publisher

Part I

Spark

Ember

Tramping through the jungle for hours on end was not my idea of a good time.

It was hot, insanely so. Normally, heat didn’t bother me, but the humidity level beneath the canopy had been cranked up to like two hundred percent. It felt as if I was walking, and breathing, through a wet, heavy blanket. My clothes—the olive drab shirt, cargo pants, even the socks in my combat boots—were damp with sweat, and tying my hair back did not prevent it from hanging in my eyes and sticking to my forehead. Insects droned in my ears, in the trees, everywhere around us—a constant, high-pitched buzz that faded into background noise unless you concentrated on it.

Behind me, Garret moved like a shadow, making virtually no sound as he glided through the undergrowth. I couldn’t see him without turning, but I knew he was there. I could sense him—the steady rise and fall of his breath, the heartbeat thumping quietly beneath his jacket. Lately, I didn’t even have to look at him to know where he was; his presence, both in my thoughts and in the world around me, became more prominent with every passing day. I knew he was worried. Not for us and our situation, though as always he remained hypervigilant and alert to our surroundings. But I knew his thoughts were back home, with the Order and the people we’d left behind. I couldn’t blame him. Across a continent, a war was brewing. Back in the States, Talon was on the move, and though we didn’t know their plans, we did know they had a massive clone army, a huge force of dragons bred for war, programmed to follow orders without fail. They had already used that army to wipe out the Order of St. George, striking a devastating blow against their greatest enemies, nearly destroying them completely. The Order, what was left of it, was in shambles. Talon stood unopposed to do whatever horrible thing they were planning. And where were we? Tromping through the deepest, darkest parts of the Amazon jungle, fighting bugs and vines and heat exhaustion, searching for something that should not exist.

Ahead of us, Riley followed our guide down a narrow, winding trail that could barely be called a path, cutting through vines and undergrowth with machete in hand. Though the rogue was putting up a good front, he was worried, too. Garret wasn’t the only one to leave people behind. Riley’s underground—his network of rogues and the hatchlings who’d escaped Talon—was in danger, too, as the organization was systematically eliminating every dragon who didn’t conform to Talon. This trip almost hadn’t happened. Riley had been extremely reluctant to leave his underground, consenting only when Wes and Jade both told him to go, that they would take care of the hatchlings and the rogues. In the end, Riley had agreed, but I could tell he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible and return to the network he’d left behind. I knew Garret felt the same about the Order.

But this was important. Whether we liked it or not, the war with Talon had come, and the organization was poised to unleash destruction upon everything we cared about. We needed all the allies we could get, and if this lead turned out to be real, then it just might give us a chance. Not a great one, but it would level the playing field a bit.

The guide, tall and rawboned and carrying a machete much like Riley’s, suddenly paused. The trail ahead had been blocked by a tangle of vines and branches, so with a quick “One moment, please,” he went to work hacking through the undergrowth. Riley, rather than standing back, joined him, and together they started slicing through the tangle in short order.

After stripping off my rucksack, I rummaged in the pocket and pulled out a canteen, feeling the heat and humidity pulsing from my skin. I took a few sips, then handed the container to Garret, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

“Well...” I sighed, leaning back against a thick, gnarled tree. Above me, the trunk soared into the air until it joined the canopy far overhead. Insects flitted through the branches, and only a few patches of sunlight made their way down from the blanket of leaves above us. “This isn’t the way I thought I would spend my weekend.” I took a breath, and it was like breathing the air in a steam room. “Air-conditioning is a wonderful, wonderful invention, Garret,” I told him. “How did we ever get by without it?”

Garret offered a faint smile as he handed the canteen back. He looked natural out here, in his boots and camo jacket, pale blond hair cut short. He looked like a soldier. “I thought dragons liked the heat,” he said with a glance at the guide, still whacking vegetation with Riley. I sniffed, crouching down to stuff the canteen back in the rucksack.

“Yes, well, most people think we like sitting on piles of gold in dark, dreary caves. You don’t see us doing that anymore, do you? Especially since we can track our funds from a computer, in the comfort of an air-conditioned office.” A mosquito the size of my thumb landed on my arm, looking hungry, and I slapped it away. “And maybe it’s made us soft, but I for one am glad that we’ve caught on to the conveniences of modern life. Air-conditioning and indoor plumbing beats sitting in a cave full of treasure any day.”

Garret’s voice turned serious. “Not all dragons think that apparently.”

“No.” I shivered a little as I rose and pulled the rucksack over my shoulders once more. The jungle seemed to close around us, reminding me why we were here. “I guess not.”

Riley walked back to us, breathing hard. He had tied a bandanna around his head to keep his hair back, but a few dark strands had poked out and stuck to his forehead. The white tank beneath his open, long-sleeved shirt was streaked with moisture. For the briefest of moments, in the shadows of the canopy, his eyes glimmered gold.

Warmth fluttered somewhere deep inside me, like a candle dancing in the breeze. The Sallith’tahn, the life-mate bond, telling me that Riley—or rather Cobalt—was my Draconic other half. But it was weaker now. Barely a flicker, when before it had been a rushing, surging inferno of heat and desire. I had broken the Sallith’tahn. I, as a dragon, had decided to be with someone else. To choose love over instinct. I suspected the Sallith’tahn thing would never truly go away, and I doubted Riley would ever forgive me for rejecting him but, for now at least, the war and the threat of Talon took precedence over our petty squabbles and jealousy. We had to work together to survive. Alone, we didn’t stand a chance.

“Our guide says we’re almost there,” Riley informed us, unscrewing the cap of his own canteen. “Another forty-five minutes to an hour, according to him.” He took a few quick swallows from the container, then raked a sleeve across his face. “Man, I forgot how sucky the jungle is. Good thing Wes isn’t here. He’d never stop complaining. Still have that compass, St. George?”

“Yes.” Garret frowned slightly. “Why? We have a guide.”

“Not anymore.” Riley turned to glare at the guide, who was still hacking through vegetation and deliberately not looking at us. “There’s some kind of statue marking the trail about a mile from here, and from then on, we’re on our own. He says the path keeps going, but he flat-out refuses to venture beyond that point.”

“He’s leaving?” I scowled. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Apparently it was.” Riley replaced the cap and slung the canteen over his shoulder, his own expression disgusted. “He said he would take us as far as he could. Well, that’s as far as he’s willing to take us.”

“Why?”

“Because, in his own words, beyond the statue is the territory of a god.”

A chill crept up my back, even in the suffocating heat, and I swallowed. “Then I guess we’re on the right trail.”

“Yep.” Riley rubbed the back of his skull, looking both nervous and annoyed about being nervous. “Never did like the idea of meeting a god. Somehow, I get the feeling gods just don’t like me very much.”

“You?” Garret asked, the hint of a smile crossing his face. “With your complete disdain for authority figures? I don’t see why that would be.”

“Ha, ha, laugh now, St. George. We’ll see how funny it is when we’re all piles of dust being scattered by the wind.”

We started off again, walking single file down the narrow path, following our guide toward the territory of a god.

If possible, the jungle got even thicker, more tangled, with branches and vines clawing at us from either side of the trail. Our guide came to a sudden stop and murmured something I couldn’t understand. Ahead, sitting to one side of the tiny path, a stone statue rose out of a cluster of vines and roots, the snarling visage of some scaly, horned creature peering out at us.

Riley cocked his head at the statue. “Huh,” he remarked. “Is that supposed to be a dragon? It looks like a wild pig had a baby with an alligator.”

I shook my head at him. “Can you be any more irreverent? I haven’t been struck by lightning on this trip yet.”

The guide turned, his dark face solemn in the shadows of the undergrowth. “This is as far as I go,” he said. “From this point on, you only have to follow the path. I will wait here until your business is complete.”

Riley frowned. “I thought you said you served this master or god or whatever you call him.”

“I do. But I am simply his voice outside of the jungle. Only those who have been invited can step into his territory unharmed. Therefore, I will wait for you here. If you do not return by sunset, I will know you are not coming back. Now, go.” He nodded down the trail. “My master is not a patient god. It would be unwise to incur his wrath.”

We went, slipping deeper into the jungle, venturing into the unknown. Into the territory of a god.

Almost immediately, I knew something was wrong. My dragon instincts stirred, edgy and restless, though I couldn’t see anything unusual. But I could feel eyes on me. I could sense something watching us, stalking us down the trail, keeping just out of sight.

Garret moved closer, walking by my side, even down the narrow path. His eyes were hard as he murmured, “Something is following us.”

“Yeah,” I whispered back. My hand twitched, wanting to reach for the Glock hidden beneath my shirt, but I didn’t want to give away that we knew we were being stalked. “Should we tell Riley?”

“He knows,” Garret replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead. His posture was calm, but I could sense the tension in him, ready to explode into action. “Stay alert. Be ready to move when it happens.”

As he said this, we entered a clearing, and figures melted out of the undergrowth. Tall, slender, with only a strip of cloth tied around their waists, they moved like ghosts, making virtually no noise as they stepped forward. Before we could say anything, they had surrounded us, and a dozen bone-tipped spears were leveled at our hearts.

Garret

Two weeks earlier

I stood in Gabriel Martin’s office, watching as the lieutenant walked into the room with a slight limp. He shuffled around the desk, then sat down with a grimace and eyed me across the wood. I stood calmly at attention, mostly out of habit, until he waved me into a seat.

“Sebastian,” he greeted as I settled into the chair. “You’ve come from the infirmary, yes? How is St. Anthony?”

“The same, sir,” I replied. Tristan St. Anthony still lay in a coma, unmoving and unresponsive, much as he had the past two days. The fact that he was still alive at all was either a testament to his hardheadedness or his extremely good luck, for many of his severely wounded brothers had not survived that first night.

“Stubborn bastard. He would have to make things difficult. The medic is going to give me an earful about moving him, I’m sure.” Martin half smiled, then shook his head with a sigh. “We’re leaving, Sebastian,” he went on, sobering as he looked at me. “We’re too exposed here. Our numbers have been depleted, our defenses broken, and Talon still knows where we are. If they attack again, there is no way any of us will survive another round.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. I’d suspected as much. Martin was right to leave, to gather the remaining soldiers and retreat to fight another day. We couldn’t stand against Talon, not like this. I didn’t like the idea of abandoning the base to the enemy, but I knew we had little choice. “Where will you go?”

“Somewhere Talon won’t find us.” Martin sighed. “The Order has several locations throughout the country, emergency safe houses that are meant to be used as a last resort. We’ve never had need of them, until now. I plan to fall back to one of them, regroup and see about contacting the rest of the Order. If anyone in St. George survived, they’ll be doing the same.”

“Do you think there could be other survivors?”

“God, I hope so,” Martin said. “We can’t be the only ones left. There have to be others—even a handful is better than none. Talon couldn’t have destroyed every single soul in St. George. What about your dragons?” he asked. “What will they be doing?”

“Riley is planning to leave, as well, sir.” For the past two days, the rogue leader and the other dragons had been staying in the empty officers’ quarters at the far end of the compound. There were too few St. George soldiers left alive to even think about harassing them, but the dragons stayed deliberately isolated from the rest of the base. Dragons being allowed on St. George soil was still an alien concept to most of the soldiers, and neither Martin nor Riley wanted to take any chances. Soldiers were not allowed to venture to the “dragon’s side” of the compound, and the rogue leader had forbidden any contact with the rest of the base. Riley himself stayed as far away from the soldiers as possible, his inherent distrust of St. George and the desire to protect his underground making him reluctant to interact with humans, even Martin. Only Ember went between the two sides without fear, acting as a liaison between dragons and St. George, relaying messages and updates to them both. There had been hard eyes and wary glances whenever she walked across the yard or into a room, but so far there had been no real problems with having a dragon stroll freely through Order territory.

Of course, the remaining soldiers having seen the red dragon lead a counterattack against the horde that would have otherwise destroyed the base didn’t hurt. Perceptions were changing. Slowly. Many of the soldiers’ attitudes had downgraded from openly hostile to merely suspicious. No one but Martin had spoken to Ember or the rest of the dragons since they’d arrived, but no one had openly threatened or mocked them, either. It was the best I could hope for.

Sadly, there were a few whose hatred had not waned, who despised the dragons and thought the Order should shoot them, and me, in the head while they had the chance. Thankfully, Martin’s authority over the Western Chapterhouse was absolute, and he was respected enough to be obeyed, even in the face of what would be considered extreme blasphemy. It didn’t stop the men from talking, but it did prevent an all-out rebellion.

Martin rubbed his forehead. “Go to your dragons, then,” he stated. “Talk to them. Find out what they intend to do. I wish I could promise them protection if they came with us, but you know the Order as well as I do. The soldiers here are one thing, but if we meet other survivors, I’m uncertain I can convince them to listen to me, regardless of what happened.”

“Which is why we’ll be leaving before we start getting shot at.”

We turned. Ember and Riley stood in the doorframe, gazing at us. The rogue leader had a grim, almost defiant expression as he faced Martin. Ember gave him a brief, annoyed look before slipping around to stand beside me.

“What Riley means to say,” Ember broke in as Martin’s eyes narrowed, “is that our people are nearly healed, and we should probably find a safe place for them before Talon comes after us again. If you are going to try to bring the Order together, it’s not a good idea for us to stay around, at least not initially. I don’t think they’ll be as...understanding as you have been, Lieutenant.”

Riley smirked. “I thought that’s what I said.”

We ignored him. “That’s what I suspected,” Martin replied, nodding. “Understandable, of course, given the circumstances. When do you intend to leave?”

“Tonight,” Ember replied. “In a few hours actually. Jade and the others are well enough to travel, so we’ll be leaving after sunset and driving through the night. You won’t have to worry about us anymore.”

Martin pondered this, then looked at me. “And you, Sebastian?” he asked, as I’d known he would. “Will you be going with them?”

His voice wasn’t angry or accusing, but my stomach tightened all the same. I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. You are a soldier of St. George. This is your home, with the people who raised you. You belong here, with your brothers. You belong with us.

I hesitated only a moment, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“There is no way I can convince you to leave with us?” Martin continued, and before I could say anything, he added, “We could really use your help, Sebastian, especially now. Your knowledge and expertise on the enemy is what kept us alive that night. Well, that, and the arrival of your dragons.” One corner of his mouth quirked, very slightly, but just as quickly, he sobered. “I’d like to have you with us, Sebastian. I can’t order you to come, of course, but St. George—what’s left of it, anyway—could use all the help it can get.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I answered firmly. “But I don’t intend to join the Order again.” I’d chosen my side, and St. George was no longer home. Though a small part of me wished I could go with him, if only to be a voice for the dragons, to continue the call for change, I knew beyond a doubt where my loyalties lay.

“I see.” He sighed again, but nodded. “Well, take care, Sebastian. I don’t know what the Order will do after this, if there is an Order around to do anything. But...” His eyes shifted to Ember. “I do know that things are going to change. For better or worse, I’m not certain yet.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a burner phone, then handed it to me over the surface. “Take this,” he said as I reached for it. “It has one number on it. Use it if you need to contact me for any reason. Somehow, I have the feeling our paths will cross again.”

Before I could answer, there was a knock, and Martin’s gaze rose to the door. “Yes?”

“Sir!” A soldier stepped into the room, pausing to give Ember, Riley and me a wary look, before turning to Martin. “Lieutenant,” he continued, “the guards intercepted a man outside the gate. He won’t say who he is or where he came from. All we could get out of him was that he has a message...” His gaze shifted to Riley and Ember. “For the dragons.”

Riley

Well, this day had gotten weird.

A man was sitting quietly at the table in the conference room, flanked by soldiers of St. George. He was lean and bony, wearing a simple shirt and dark pants, and his skin was tanned and leathery. His hands were folded in front of him, his dark gaze staying fixed on the wooden surface until the four of us—myself, St. George, Ember and the Order lieutenant, Martin—approached and stood at the table’s edge, facing him.

“I am Lieutenant Martin,” the officer began in clear, official tones. “Current commander of the Western Chapterhouse of St. George. Who are you? What is it you want here?”

At his voice, the man finally raised his head, his expression calm. But his gaze wasn’t for the lieutenant, but for the red hatchling standing beside St. George.

“Ember Hill,” he said in a soft but perfectly audible voice. His dark gaze slid to me. “Ex-Agent Cobalt. My master sends his greetings.”

Ember tensed, as did St. George. The two guards did, as well, hands straying toward their weapons. The man at the table, however, remained as serene as ever. I stepped forward, feeling Cobalt rise, responding to a potential threat. “And who would that be?” I growled.

“Forgive me, ex-Agent.” The man bowed his head. “But my master would rather not discuss business with the soldiers of St. George within earshot.” His gaze flicked briefly to Martin and the soldier. “This message, and the terms that come with it, are for you and Miss Hill alone. Sebastian may stay, if he likes,” he went on, and I stiffened. That he knew the soldier’s name, as well...who was this human? And who was this mysterious master who knew us all? “But the rest of St. George must leave. My master was quite insistent that this was for your ears alone.”

“I don’t think so,” Martin said. “You’re in Order territory, sitting in a St. George chapterhouse. Anything you want to tell the dragons, you can inform us of, as well.”

“Come now, Lieutenant,” the man went on in a reasonable voice. “Surely you can see I am not a threat. I am no dragon, no soldier. I am not armed. Your soldiers have already determined that I am wearing no wires or transmitters. Two dragons and a former soldier of St. George should have no trouble with a frail old man.” His thin lips twitched. “But feel free to shackle me to the table, if you are that worried.”

“Who are you?” I growled. Frail old man, my ass. He obviously knew far too much to be harmless. “How the hell do you know who we are, or that we’d be here, for that matter?”

“I will tell you,” the stranger said, and refolded his hands to the table. “Once St. George is out of the room.”

I looked at Martin. He stood for a moment, rigid and silent, his jaw set, before he nodded once and jerked his head at the soldiers flanking the man. They gave him worried looks but immediately turned and walked out. Martin watched the stranger a moment more, dark eyes appraising, before he turned to Sebastian.

“We’ll be just outside. Call if you need us.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.

The officer gave the figure at the table one last glance and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him, and we were alone with the stranger.

The man didn’t move. “All right,” I said, stepping forward. “You got your wish. St. George is gone. So start talking, human. You obviously know who we are, what we are and probably why we’re here. There’s only one possible group I can think of with that kind of information.”

“I am not from Talon,” the man said. “Let us get that suspicion out of the way right now. You have no reason to fear me. I represent a single individual, not an organization. Though Talon is part of the reason I have come. My master has sent me here with a message. He wishes to meet you, ex-Agent Cobalt. You and Miss Hill. There are things he wishes to discuss.”

“Uh-huh. And we’re supposed to drop everything and go meet with this mysterious individual right now, am I correct? Sorry, but I’m going to need a little more than that. Especially since we don’t even know this person’s name, or yours, for that matter.”

“My name is not important,” said the stranger. “I am simply his voice. His name, however, you might have heard before, ex-Agent Cobalt. My master calls himself Ouroboros.”

Ouroboros?

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I felt Ember and St. George watching me, and suspected I looked as stunned as I felt. “That’s not possible,” I stated. “Ouroboros is...”

“A legend?” the old man answered with the hint of a smile. “A myth?”

“Dead,” I said flatly. “The dragon known as Ouroboros is supposedly dead. After he went rogue, no one has seen him—”

“In over three hundred years,” the stranger finished. “Yes, that is what Talon would have you believe. However, Ouroboros is very much alive, ex-Agent Cobalt. And he sent me here to find you and the daughter of the Elder Wyrm.” His gaze shifted to Ember, who straightened quickly. “He has something to discuss with you. In person.”

Ember glanced from the old man to me. “I take it this... Ouroboros is important?” she asked. “Who is he, anyway?”

I took a deep breath. “Ouroboros,” I began, hearing the awe in my own voice, “is a Wyrm. An old, old Wyrm. Right behind our infamous leader of Talon, he’s the oldest dragon in the known world.”

Ember’s brows arched. “Oh,” she said.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “So, he’s kind of a big deal. Even though he’s not supposed to exist. A long time ago—and I’m talking over three hundred years, mind—Ouroboros and the Elder Wyrm had a disagreement. Everyone has forgotten what it was about, but they think it had something to do with Talon, and the direction the Elder Wyrm was taking it. The stories say the fight was everything from an argument to a full-blown, Godzilla versus Mothra–style throw down, but in the end, Ouroboros left Talon and went rogue. The very first dragon to do so. He just...disappeared. The official consensus in Talon was that he’d died, but there is a legend, among rogues especially, that claims that somehow Ouroboros survived and is still out there. Hiding from Talon, managing to stay off their radar all this time.” Riley shook his head. “Of course, it was always just a myth. No one has seen or heard anything from Ouroboros since the day he fled Talon.”

St. George looked at the man sitting at the table. “Not so much of a myth, it appears.”

“No.” I narrowed my gaze at the stranger, suspicion rising up like dark flame. “So if what you say is true,” I said, “and Ouroboros is alive, where the hell has he been all this time? Why hasn’t he done anything? Does he not care that we’ve all been dying, thanks to Talon and St. George? He’s probably the only one who can go head-to-head with the Elder Wyrm and have a sliver of a chance. Why hasn’t he ever made himself known, contacted the rogues at the very least? Why now?”

“I do not presume to know the mind of Ouroboros,” the human stated. “I have come to deliver his message, nothing more. I do know that contacting anyone by modern means, such as phones, computers, and the like, has never been his preference. Phones can be traced. Computers can be hacked. Ouroboros is a bit of a...traditionalist, if you would. If you wish to know the answers to your questions, you will have to go to him and ask him yourself.”

I growled in frustration. “Fine. Where is he?”

The man blinked. “Forgive me, ex-Agent,” he said, still in that supremely calm voice. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you that.” He raised a hand as I stepped forward. “You, of all people, should know the lengths to which a rogue will go to keep their location a secret.”

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Ember wanted to know.

“If you agree to meet my master, I will take you to where you must go. I warn you, however. It is a lengthy journey. Ouroboros is not here, in the United States. Hiding himself so well meant cutting himself off from nearly all of civilization. The trip to meet him will take some time.”

“Time we really don’t have,” I snapped. “There’s a war happening now, and Talon is on the move. I can’t leave the hatchlings to go traipsing halfway around the world for a chat.”

“Even if that chat is with Ouroboros?” the stranger asked mildly. “The First Rogue? One of only four great Wyrms in the entire world? Who knew the Elder Wyrm centuries ago, who is the second most powerful dragon your kind has ever known? I would think that you, ex-Agent Cobalt, with your network of dragons trying to hide from Talon, would be especially eager to see why Ouroboros has called for you.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong.” I held up a hand. “I would love to meet Ouroboros and pick his brain a little. Particularly on how he’s stayed off Talon’s radar for the past three hundred years.” I raked a palm over my scalp. “But this is a really bad time. I can’t leave the hatchlings now. Talon is still after us, and there’s probably not much time until they launch their second phase of attack, whatever it may be. I have to get my underground as far away as I can before that happens.”

Ember looked at me, then back to the man at the table. “Do we have to give you an answer now?” she asked.

“No, Miss Hill.” The man shook his head. “Please take your time. Talk among yourselves. Decide what you want to do. But...remember that Ouroboros is not a patient Wyrm, nor one that forgives or forgets.” His voice remained the same, serene and matter-of-fact. It was not a threat, merely a statement, but I felt the warning reverberate through me all the same. “He has no tolerance for those who waste his time. If you refuse this offer now, it will not be made again in your lifetimes. So please choose carefully.”

* * *

“Bloody freaking hell,” Wes remarked. “Ouroboros? The First Rogue? That’s bloody impossible. I thought he was... I mean, isn’t he supposed to be...”

“Nonexistent.” This from Mist, leaning against the far wall. Leaving the stranger under the dubious watch of a couple soldiers, Ember, St. George and I had retreated to our temporary quarters on the other side of the base. Now, the three of us were gathered in Wes’s room, along with two other dragons who had joined us recently: Mist, a former Basilisk agent whose motives for being here were still shady as hell, and Jade, an Adult Eastern dragon with a fondness for tea and being aloof.

“Ouroboros is a myth,” Mist said. “An urban legend the rogues keep alive to give them hope.” Her long silver hair glowed dully in the shadowy corner she’d claimed as hers. Even though there were still a few hours of daylight left, the curtains were drawn and the lights were turned off. The only luminance came from the screen of Wes’s laptop on the desk, because my human hacker friend seemed as allergic to sunlight as a vampire.

“He isn’t real,” the girl insisted. “Everyone in Talon knows Ouroboros died long ago. After all this time, we would have seen or heard something.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the human sitting in St. George’s conference room,” I said, jerking my thumb back at the closed door. “Because he’s either eaten too many magic mushrooms, or he says that the First Rogue is not only real, he wants to meet with us.”

Jade, standing quietly beside a wardrobe, regarded me with interest. “If Ouroboros indeed lives and has called for you, it would be wise to go. One does not receive a summons from an ancient Wyrm often, if ever.”

“Yeah, but...” I scrubbed both hands through my hair, frustration warring with curiosity. Of course I wanted to go. This was Ouroboros, the First Rogue. The legend who had hidden his existence from Talon so well that everyone, inside the organization and out, had thought he was dead. For three hundred years. I would kill to learn his secrets.

But if I left, what would happen to my underground if Talon came for us again? My network was brave; they had fought Talon’s clone army and had turned the tide for St. George. Without our intervention, the Order would have been slaughtered.

The cost was high, far too high. Some of them hadn’t made it. Five hatchlings were dead, buried in the desert sand with the soldiers they had fought beside. I knew them all by name; I remembered the day I’d taken each of them away from Talon, with the promise of a better life, one that was free.

“You’re worried about the others,” Ember said quietly.

“Of course I am,” I answered. “I can’t leave them alone now. It’s too dangerous. Talon is actively trying to kill us, and they have a huge clone army to do it. I don’t dare send them back to the safe houses—the nests have all been compromised. I have one place left for us to go, and I can only hope Talon hasn’t found it.”

“I take it we’re going back to the farm,” Wes stated, and I nodded. He sighed. “Well, hell, Riley, I can take them there. It’s not rocket science to drive a bloody van.”

As I stared at him in shock, Jade broke in, as well. “And if you are worried about their safety,” she said, “put your mind at ease. I will remain with them until you return. Talon will not threaten any of the hatchlings while they are under my watch.”

“I... Are you two feeling all right?” I wondered, aghast. What the hell was going on here? Wes hated people, and teenagers especially. And Jade barely knew us. “What’s gotten into you two?” I asked, frowning. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing everything to get me to leave except physically pushing me out the door.”

“Riley.” Wes gave me one of his patented I’m surrounded by idiots looks. “Think about it. Ouroboros is the second-oldest dragon in the world, and he’s at odds with the bloody Elder Wyrm. What would happen if we convinced him to fight for us?” The hacker shook his head at me. “If you can’t see the potential there, mate, then I really have no hope for you at all.”

“Yes,” Jade added with a somber nod. “Know thyself, know thine enemies. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That we are at war.” The Eastern dragon gave me a look that was nearly as impressively disdainful as Wes’s. “And knowing our enemy will be the key to overcoming them. Knowledge is the greatest weapon we have, and who better to obtain this knowledge from than one who has lived longer than nearly everyone else on the planet?”

“And I know you, Riley,” Ember broke in. “You want to meet with Ouroboros. If you miss this chance, you’re going to be kicking yourself for the rest of your life.”

“Agreed,” Mist added. “If I was summoned by a legend, I would make that a top priority, but that’s just me.”

I sighed. “I wonder if you people realize that I’m the leader of this underground,” I remarked. “Just throwing that out there, in case you’ve forgotten.” As expected, no one seemed impressed, and I shook my head in defeat. “All right, I suppose we’re going to see what the First Rogue wants with us. Wes, Jade, if you’re sure you’ve got the hatchlings...”

“Oh, will you just go already,” Wes said. “You sound like a bloody nursemaid.”

Ember

The present

The humans surrounded us, silent as wraiths in the darkness of the jungle. There were close to a dozen of them, dark skinned and mostly naked, wearing loincloths and necklaces of shell and bone. Most carried crude wooden spears, which they’d pointed at us in a bristling ring of spikes. A few outside the circle held bows and arrows. None of them spoke, or made any sound at all. They simply watched us with unreadable black eyes.

“Okay,” Riley murmured, gazing around. “That’s a little worrisome. Do you think this is the welcome party?” His voice was amused but held a hint of warning. Garret had drawn his weapon and was keeping the muzzle pointed at the ground, ready to respond with lethal force if he had to.

“What do you think they want?” I asked, keeping my gaze on those sharp points hovering very close to my face. Garret had moved behind me, and I could feel the tension lining his muscles, his hard gaze as it swept the crowd. Riley shrugged.

“No clue, but I’m not too keen on getting skewered to find out.” His gaze slid to me, and a hard smile pulled at his mouth. “You have a change of clothes, right?”

“You want us to Shift? In front of all these humans?”

“Who are they going to tell? The news monkeys?” He rolled his eyes before his attention focused on the crowd again. “I figure this way we won’t even have to fight anyone. They’ll just drop their spears and run.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I’d rather be in dragon form if they try to shove a spear up my ass.”

The crowd in front of us suddenly parted, and an old man stepped through, stopping just a few feet away. He was thin, nearly skeletal, with twig-like arms and only a few strands of wispy white hair stuck to his head. He regarded the three of us with eyes that were still sharp and clear, then raised a clawed hand to point at me.

“You,” he rasped in a thickly accented voice. “Name.”

“My name?” I asked. Around us, the warriors remained silent, still keeping their spears pointed at us. The old man didn’t answer, just continued to watch me with piercing black eyes. “Ember,” I said quietly. “My name is Ember Hill.”

He nodded once and stepped back, and the men surrounding us lowered their spears. The old man raised a withered hand and beckoned, indicating for us to follow.

We did, trailing him down a narrow path that soon disappeared as we went deeper into the jungle. Even for Garret and Riley, it was difficult to keep up. The old man, and the men surrounding us, moved like ghosts through the trees and vegetation, silent and nearly unseen. They blended perfectly into their world, unlike us, the noisy intruders, stomping through the undergrowth in our rugged boots, hacking at vines along the way. The jungle closed in around us, becoming darker and even more tangled, as if offended by our presence and our attempts to clear a path. After only a few minutes, I was lost, and all sense of direction had vanished into the canopy. Which made me nervous. If our mysterious guides decided to disappear and leave us stranded in the middle of the jungle, we might never find our way out.

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” I whispered to Garret after a few silent minutes. The soldier had holstered his weapon but his posture was still tense, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings and the men slipping noiselessly through the trees beside us.

“I don’t know,” he replied, glancing at something overhead. I looked up and saw a small yellow monkey on a gnarled branch, peering down at me with large black eyes. “But they knew your name,” Garret went on. “That means they were waiting for us.”

We continued into the darkness. The men and our guide never slowed down or said anything, either to us or each other. The one time Riley tried talking to our guide, the old man simply shook his head and put a finger to his lips. After a couple hours of walking, I was starting to wonder if this hike would ever end, if the jungle just went on forever, when Garret suddenly nudged my arm and pointed to something in the trees ahead.

At first, I didn’t see anything different or unusual: just looming trunks, undergrowth, vines and shadows. Then the outline of a wall, stony and ancient, appeared through the trees, nearly invisible with moss, vines and gnarled roots. As we got closer, I spotted a crumbling archway in the wall, flanked by a pair of statues so weathered and moss covered that they were entirely featureless. Beyond the barrier, rising toward the jungle canopy, a huge stone structure, as weathered and moss-eaten as the statues, towered among the trees.

My brows rose. Was this where these people lived? A hidden village deep in the jungle, surrounded by the ruins of an even older civilization? I was amazed. It was hard to believe that there were still places in the world this untouched by modern conveniences, where humans had lived without electricity or phones or computers for hundreds of years.

As we approached the archway, however, the old man stopped and turned, holding up a hand. I looked around and saw that the warriors surrounding us had backed away and were standing several yards from the entrance, as if reluctant to step close.

The old man looked at me, then Riley and Garret. He took a step back, pointing at us, then to the archway beyond. I frowned.

“You’re not coming with us?”

No answer, just the repeated motion of pointing at us, then to the gate, a little more vigorously this time. Riley looked at us and shrugged.

“Guess we go on without him. Be on your guard, though. I’d hate to walk into an ambush of archers firing at us from every nook and cranny.”

We stepped toward the archway, moving cautiously as we approached the gate. I glanced over my shoulder once, and saw that the old man and the rest of the warriors were gone. Like they’d never existed.

We continued through the gate. Beyond the wall, the arch opened into a massive courtyard. Moss and vegetation had swallowed half of it, with weathered stone tiles poking up from the green and walls crumbling under the weight of gigantic roots that snaked over them like monstrous pythons. They slithered through the courtyard between uprooted stones and piles of rubble, making the footing treacherous. Crumbling buildings covered in moss and vines stood at the top of the steps, and trees pushed up through the stone, splitting roofs and walls as they reached for the sky. Between the steps and the buildings, more streets snaked off into parts unknown.

“It’s awfully quiet,” Riley remarked as we ventured warily through the sprawling courtyard. Insects scurried away from us, fleeing over rocks and vines, but they were the only sources of movement I could see. “And I’m not just saying that to be cliché. You guys can feel it, too, right?”

I nodded. He was right. A few minutes ago, the jungle was teeming with sound: buzzing insects, calling birds, howling monkeys in the treetops far overhead. Now the canopy was dead silent, as if every living creature for miles around was afraid to make a peep.

“I don’t like it,” Garret began as, at that moment, a tremor went through the ground under our feet.

We froze in the center of the courtyard, weapons out, bodies tense as we gazed around. The tremor came again, a faint vibration that made the rocks tremble, accompanied by a muffled boom. And another. Insects scattered in every direction, and a few pebbles went tumbling and bouncing down the wall, as the footsteps grew steadily louder, and my heart beat faster and faster. It nearly stopped when I saw a ridge of spines moving behind the roofs—roofs that were at least forty feet tall.

“Aw, shit,” Riley breathed. And then words failed us as a dragon the size of a building walked calmly between the ruins and into the light.

He was old; even without his massive size, I could tell that much. His scales were a dull blackish-green, the color of swamp water, and his enormous wings were tattered and full of holes. Moss and vegetation grew along his back and shoulders, giving him a shaggy look, and I suspected that when he laid down, he could blend perfectly with the jungle floor. His curved black claws were longer than my arms, and bony horns swept forward from a narrow, skull-like face, eyes burning orange-red in the sockets. Those piercing eyes now fixed on me, as the great Wyrm Ouroboros raised his head, towering over us all, and flashed the most terrifying smile in the world.

“Ember Hill.” His voice was the deep growl of thunder, shaking the earth and reverberating in my bones. “Daughter of the Elder Wyrm. We meet at last.”

My legs were shaking, and my voice had gotten caught somewhere between my heart and my throat. For a moment, I had the crazy, horrifying thought that perhaps Ouroboros had drawn us here, to a forgotten temple in the middle of nowhere, to kill us. Or, more specifically, me, the daughter of his ancient rival, the Elder Wyrm. Perhaps with the thought that disposing of the Elder Wyrm’s blood would somehow aid in Talon’s destruction. Or maybe he just wanted revenge and he couldn’t strike at the leader of Talon directly, so he would kill her daughter instead.

Well, if that’s the case, the joke’s on you. I’m not the favored twin. If you eat me, all you’ll be doing is...

...denying the Elder Wyrm immortality. My blood turned to ice. I was the Elder Wyrm’s vessel, created to house her memories so she could essentially live another thousand years. Was that why Ouroboros had called us here? Did he somehow know of the Elder Wyrm’s ultimate plan to become immortal and want to end it for good?

Ouroboros, I realized, was still watching me, like a king waiting for his slave to lift his face off the floor. I glanced up into the ghoulish, reptilian face and saw amusement in his burning eyes. He knew the effect he was having on us, and was probably reveling in it.

Come on, Ember. You’re the daughter of the Elder Wyrm. Even if he does plan to kill you, don’t let him see you sweat.

I took a furtive breath, raised my head and took one step forward, toward the second-oldest dragon in the world.

“Ouroboros.” I concentrated on keeping my voice calm, collected. Like she would. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Ouroboros laughed, the deep, booming sound making my heart skip and probably startling every bird for miles into the air. Beside me, Riley flinched, and Garret went for his gun, though I saw him force his hand away from his weapon a moment later. There was nothing we could do against a dragon this size. We would need a missile launcher to even put a dent in his armored scales. This was the king of the realm, the undisputed god of the jungle, and everyone here knew it.

I had to wonder: if Ouroboros was this huge—close to eighty feet from snout to tail, if I had to guess—how big was the Elder Wyrm?

That was a scary thought.

“Ah.” Ouroboros chuckled, shaking his massive head. “It is refreshing to actually talk to someone who will hold a proper conversation,” he stated as his voice sent tremors down my spine. “My subjects—the people you met on the way here—all they do is bow and scrape and press their faces to the dirt. When they do venture past the wall, I can’t even get them to look at me. I was hoping the daughter of the Elder Wyrm and the infamous rogue Cobalt would be less easily cowed.” He glanced at Riley and cocked his head.

There was a split-second hesitation on Riley’s part, as if he, too, had to take a breath to center himself, before his lip curled in a faint smile. “I wouldn’t want to presume,” he said, sounding like his defiant self. “You were having a nice conversation with Ember, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Not certain if the penalty for that kind of thing is death around here.”

Ouroboros snorted, and a smoke cloud the size of a small car went curling away toward the canopy. “So you are exactly as they say,” he mused, sounding pleased. “And I can see why Talon despises you so much. Perhaps you will survive what is coming, after all. But...” His expression darkened, and it was like a wall of clouds dropping over the sun, ominous and terrifying. “Before we go any further, there is one matter I will put to rest, right now.”

Through all of this, Garret hadn’t moved or said anything, and the Wyrm’s attention finally shifted to him. “St. George,” Ouroboros growled, his voice making the ground tremble. “The last I saw of your kind, I was crushing a pair of lance-wielding knights on horses. Now you hunt us with guns and vehicles and modern weapons. I might have separated myself from Talon and the rest of civilization, but I still hear the goings-on of the world. Your Order has brought much death and destruction to dragonkind. You have hunted us relentlessly for centuries, and have done your best to make us extinct.” The Wyrm’s huge body sank into a crouch, talons digging into the stone as he lowered his head, regarding the soldier with glittering red eyes. “Dragons do not forget, St. George,” he rumbled. “Nor do we forgive. I do not see how you thought to come into the lair of a great Wyrm and leave alive.”

My stomach dropped. Garret faced the dragon calmly, no sign of fear on his face, though his expression was resigned. “St. George was wrong,” he said, not moving as those massive jaws shifted closer, wreathing him in smoke. “What we did to your people...” His gaze flickered to me and Riley. “There’s no excuse for the slaughter we caused. But I’m not part of the Order any longer. I’m here because I want the fighting to end.”

Anger flared, and I clenched my fists. Why was Garret’s loyalty in question anymore? Hadn’t he done enough, proven his commitment? He had risked his life on multiple occasions, been threatened, captured, abused and shot in the back by his own Order, all to keep dragons safe. To show St. George that their ancient enemies were not the demons they believed them to be.

Of course, that was before Talon released their mindless dragon army on the Order and nearly destroyed them in one fell swoop. So, they weren’t helping things at all. But a few in the Order were starting to listen. Like Lieutenant Martin. If he could allow a bunch of rogue dragons into his base, then there was hope, after all. Hope for a future without war, where dragons didn’t have to live in fear. Where teenagers weren’t trained as killers and assassins. And where a former soldier of St. George and a dragon could be together without both sides trying to tear them apart or kill them.

Frighteningly, Ouroboros didn’t look impressed or appeased. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough, dragonslayer,” he said, making my heart pound with terror. “Are you telling me a murderer should not be punished just because he is repentant? That remorse will erase all the blood on his hands, all the lives he has taken?”

“No.” Garret’s voice was a whisper, though he quickly composed himself, gazing up at the monstrous dragon looming overhead. “But I can do more good alive than dead. At least until this is over. I know it will never be enough, but I can try to make up for my past.”

“Can you?” The great Wyrm curled a lip, showing a flash of yellow fangs the size of short swords. “You are one human. Your life is but a heartbeat. A flap of a butterfly’s wing. If I destroy you here, squash you like an insect, no one will know. No one will mourn you. One less human in the world will not make any difference.”

“Hey, now.” Riley sounded nervous. “I admit, the guy was a bastard when he worked for St. George, but he’s been pretty useful to us.”

The Wyrm ignored him. With a terrifying smile, he sat up, towering over us. “I’ll make this sporting, St. George,” he said, and nodded back toward the gate, in the direction we came in. “Run. Now. We’ll see how far you can get before my flames catch up to you. And, human, I haven’t had to chase anything for over a hundred years. Do try to make a fight of it, won’t you?”

Garret didn’t move. I saw his gaze flicker to me for the briefest of moments, saw the countless emotions burning in his eyes, before he faced the Wyrm once more. “No,” he said calmly. “I’m not running. I have nothing to hide anymore.”

“Well.” Ouroboros sniffed, sounding faintly peeved. “You’re no fun at all, are you? I guess I’ll have to be content with a quick snack, then. Don’t worry, though, human.” He reared back like a snake, jaws opening to show his fangs and enormous maw. “I’ll make it quick.”

I lunged in front of Garret, feeling my body explode into dragon form as I did. The great Wyrm pulled up in surprise as I spun to face him, spreading my wings in a desperate attempt to shield the soldier from the massive creature before us. I knew nothing I did would help; one swat from Ouroboros would easily kill us both. But I wouldn’t stand there and watch Garret die in front of me.

There was another ripple of energy, and a lithe blue dragon stepped in front of the ancient Wyrm, as well. Stunned, I glanced at Cobalt, but he wasn’t looking at me, his narrowed gold gaze was on the huge dragon overhead.

“This isn’t why we came, Ouroboros,” the rogue said, the tremor in his voice barely noticeable. “And you didn’t call us here just for a snack. What do you really want?”

Ouroboros looked amused. Sitting back, he cocked his head, regarding us with ancient red eyes. “Well,” he rumbled. “I suppose that answers my question. The girl’s actions are not terribly unexpected, now that I have met her, but I will admit, Cobalt, you’ve surprised me today. Considering how long you’ve fought against St. George, I would have thought watching one of your enemies crushed in front of you would be gratifying.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong.” Cobalt’s voice was light, but his body was still a tense, coiled wire between the Wyrm and us. “It was mostly for a certain red hatchling who has a tendency to leap in front of the lunging dragon before she looks.” He shot me an exasperated glance before turning to Ouroboros again. “But I don’t risk my hide for just any human. The soldier has fought Talon and St. George with us, and in this day and age I’ll take all the allies I can find.”

The great Wyrm nodded. “Excellent,” he said, confusing the hell out of all of us. “That’s what I wanted to find out.

“I wanted to test how far you would go to help each other,” Ouroboros explained. “Two dragons and a soldier of St. George might not be enemies, but it is hard to believe they are allies, even harder to believe they are friends. I wished to see if you were truly a team who thought and acted together, or a random group of strangers simply thrown together by circumstance. If it was the latter, I would be wasting my time here. Because I doubt you would survive what is to come.”

“Then...you weren’t really going to kill him?” I asked, relieved that my voice was working and not frozen in terror at the back of my throat.

“Oh, I definitely would have killed him,” Ouroboros said. “Had you not moved to defend the soldier, he would be nothing but a dissolving lump in my stomach right now.” He paused, running a tongue along his teeth. “Mmm, it has been a long time since I’ve eaten a mortal,” he mused in a longing voice. “Perhaps I should start demanding sacrifices again.”

I shuddered, and beside me, Cobalt curled a lip. Ouroboros didn’t seem to notice. “You want to strike a blow against Talon,” he continued. “But guts and determination alone do not win wars. If you are going to fight the organization, you’ll need soldiers, allies to assist in the struggle. I can help with both.”

“How?” Cobalt asked. “Will you be joining us?”

My heart beat faster at the thought. If we had a Wyrm like this on our side, the second-oldest dragon in the world, we might have a chance of bringing Talon down for good.

But Ouroboros snorted. “It has been over three hundred years since I have spoken to any of my kind, and in that three hundred years, Talon and the Elder Wyrm have finally forgotten that I exist. Or, at the very least, they have concluded that I am dead. If I returned with you, I would be letting all of Talon know that I am very much alive, and the Elder Wyrm will not stand for that sort of competition.”

“But...you’re a Wyrm,” I protested. “You could help us win this war. Countless dragons are being used and destroyed by Talon. How can you sit back and do nothing?”

“Nothing?” The Wyrm’s voice held the hint of a growl, warning me to watch myself in the lair of a god. “I am doing something, hatchling,” he went on. “I have called you here. Because an opportunity has arisen, and I see a chance to strike at the Elder Wyrm and Talon. But the future is hazy, and Talon is on the move. It is not yet time for me to reveal myself. Especially as I am unsure that you will survive this war, or indeed the next encounter.

“I called you here,” Ouroboros continued, “because I have information that may be helpful to your cause. I think you, in particular, will find this very interesting, ex-Agent Cobalt. As you stated earlier, a war is coming. You cannot take on an organization as large as Talon with a ragtag group of hatchlings and rogues. You’re going to need allies willing to fight the organization, and you have very few at the moment.”

You could still help us, I thought stubbornly, though I knew better than to say it out loud. Best not to annoy the giant Wyrm that could flick you over the wall like a bug. Still, it was infuriating. We’d come all this way, leaving behind friends and those still in danger from Talon, to meet with the world’s most legendary rogue. Only to have him say he couldn’t be bothered to fight Talon with us.

I felt my spines bristle. Cobalt gave me a warning look, as if he knew what I was thinking, and turned to face the Wyrm again.

“I take it you happen to know where we can find a few,” he said.

Ouroboros chuckled. “Oh, you could say that. The dragons there are quite unhappy with the organization, and some of them have been there for a very long time. They would be more than eager to join the fight against Talon, I would think. If you can get to them.”

I looked at Cobalt, saw him frown slightly as he pondered what the Wyrm was saying, then draw in a slow breath as he figured it out.

“The facilities,” he breathed, staring at Ouroboros. “You know where Talon is keeping the breeder dragons.”

My stomach twisted. There was so much hope and longing in Cobalt’s voice, even after all this time. After years of searching, countless traps, false leads, betrayals, failures and disappointments, he still held out hope that, one day, he would find the place Talon kept their breeder females and rescue them all. It was one of his life goals, probably the biggest one, the white rabbit he kept chasing no matter how many dark holes it led him down. Maybe this time, Ouroboros would give Riley what he desperately wanted. But I couldn’t help but be skeptical. The last time we’d followed a lead to where the facilities were supposedly located, it had been a clever trap that had nearly killed us all.

“Yes,” Ouroboros said. “I do.”

Riley

“Where are they?”

Ouroboros tilted his head slightly. I suspected that if he’d been in human form he would’ve arched an eyebrow. What would he look like in human form—if he even had a human form? Maybe he’d been out here so long, away from everyone except the natives who worshiped him, that he hadn’t Shifted in the three hundred years he’d been out of Talon.

Realizing that the self-proclaimed god of the jungle probably wouldn’t appreciate having answers demanded of him by some cocky Juvenile dragon, I hurried on. “I mean, I’ve searched for those facilities for years, but everything I’ve found has been a dead end or a trap. Talon has hidden them so well that if I wasn’t part of the Basilisk branch myself, I would’ve thought they didn’t exist.”

“Oh, they exist,” Ouroboros said. “And the reason you haven’t been able to find them is because you weren’t looking in the right places. That, and the location is very difficult to get to. The facilities are located on a privately owned, unnamed island.”

“An island,” I breathed. Of course, why hadn’t I thought of that before? A privately owned island was isolated, hard to reach and cut off from the rest of the world: the perfect place to hide a large number of captive female dragons.

“Yes.” Ouroboros nodded. “Talon owns the island, of course, so no one is allowed to set foot on it. Not that anyone would attempt it. Because here is the interesting part. The island is located a few hundred miles east of the Caribbean, in the area known to humans as the Bermuda Triangle.”

“The...Bermuda Triangle?” I choked out.

“Indeed. That is where you’ll find Talon’s breeding facilities, ex-Agent Cobalt. Though getting to it is going to be a challenge. It won’t be like breaking into a single office building. You must circumvent the security of an entire island. And if you somehow manage to get to the breeders, how will you get them out again? How will you even get them off the island?” Ouroboros folded his claws in front of him, regarding me with appraising red eyes. “If you can accomplish this, young Basilisk, you will have pulled off what dozens of rogues around the world could only dream of.” One corner of that narrow maw pulled into a smirk. “As such, I myself have very little hope that any of you will survive. But I will wait, and see what happens. Perhaps you will surprise me.”

He chuckled and rose to his feet, engulfing everything in his shadow. “Well,” he stated, “I believe our business is at an end. It has been entertaining, if nothing else.” He paused, and the subtle warning that crept into his voice made my stomach writhe in fear. “Of course, it goes without saying that you will not mention my name, or my location, to anyone. What transpired here does not leave this jungle.” His red eyes narrowed, glittering coldly, and I resisted the urge to shrink into the temple floor as the Wyrm loomed over us like a Titan. A massive, unstoppable force of nature. “I am placing a great deal of trust that you will keep this meeting strictly confidential,” he rumbled, making tremors ripple through the ground. “But if word that I am alive does happen to reach the organization, do not believe that I won’t find you. And if that happens, you and everyone who has ever known you will be consumed, until there is no one left who remembers your name.

“Ember Hill.” Ouroboros glanced at the red hatchling, who met his gaze calmly despite the subtle trembling in her wings. “Daughter of the Elder Wyrm. I am pleased that we could meet face-to-face. But know this—I see much of her in you, and that can be both a blessing and a curse. Choose your path wisely—it would be a shame to kill you before you reach your full potential.”

Ember raised her chin, standing tall as she faced the giant Wyrm. “Are you sure you won’t join us, Ouroboros?” she asked. “The war is going to affect everyone, even you, whether you like it or not. Stand with us. This could be your chance to finally strike back against Talon and the Elder Wyrm.”

He snorted a laugh and began walking away, back toward the maze of ruined stone and crumbling towers. Pebbles bounced and vibrations ran up my legs as Ouroboros drew away, his long tail swaying behind him. “I have been patient for three hundred years,” he said without looking back. “I can be patient awhile longer. Go to the island. Free the breeder females, if you can. We will see if you are successful, or if Talon proves to be too much for you to handle, after all. Perhaps you will die, and Talon will continue their plans unopposed. Maybe all of this will have been for nothing.”

He turned a corner, sliding behind stone walls and jungle foliage, until only his tail was left. His final words echoed as the tail disappeared, and the ancient Wyrm vanished back into legend and rumor.

“But maybe not.”

Dante

“I have a task for you, Dante.”

I stood in the Elder Wyrm’s office, waiting silently as the CEO of Talon finished whatever was on her computer and turned to me with piercing green eyes. Even now, after numerous meetings, being summoned to her side, knowing my heritage and carrying out her orders, that ancient, unyielding stare could still make my knees tremble and my insides squirm in terror. I was getting better at controlling it, though, to appear calm and poised as the heir to Talon should be. Now, I politely averted my gaze and nodded, keeping my voice deferent but calm, to let her know I was suited for whatever task she required.

“Of course. What would you have me do?”

My heart pounded. This would be my chance to redeem myself, to make up for my failure and inability to complete the last mission, which was the complete destruction of St. George’s Western Chapterhouse. Victory should have been assured; the Order was in shambles with the death of the Patriarch, and they’d cut themselves off from each other as a result. We had greater numbers and surprise on our side; we should have completely wiped them out, to the last man. Ironically, I had failed because of my own sister’s interference; her sudden arrival with Cobalt and a small army of rogue dragons was enough to turn the tide and save a handful of soldiers. Enemy soldiers. Soldiers of the Order of St. George, who had hunted dragons toward extinction for hundreds of years. Why Ember was helping our sworn enemies I had no idea, but lately my sibling’s actions had been so frustrating and completely unreasonable that I wondered if it was just to spite me and give Talon the middle finger.

It didn’t matter in the long run. The Order had still been broken; they were no longer a threat to Talon or any of our operations. But because of Ember, the Elder Wyrm’s faith in me had been shaken. And that was something I could not forgive. I had worked too hard, and come too far, to lose this position because my reckless, defiant twin refused to cooperate.

I was almost to the top. One more step, and then I would truly be free.

“Our enemies have been scattered to the winds,” the Elder Wyrm said, rising from her seat. “The Order of St. George threatens us no more. But there are still dragons out there who refuse to ally with Talon. Cobalt and his rogues have proved surprisingly resilient, though they will not be able to stand against us much longer.

“However...” The Elder Wyrm turned and walked to the window, observing the city below as she often did. “There are other dragons, older, very powerful dragons, who could be instrumental in the coming conflicts. We have received word that a few Eastern dragons survived the Night of Fang and Fire, that their lairs were empty when our forces came for them. It is likely that the Eastern dragon who currently aids Cobalt and Ember was able to warn them of the attack, which is another small thorn that must be removed. So be it.” She turned from the window, fixing me with a piercing stare. “Dante, you will go to China, to the council of Eastern dragons, and you will give them a message. Join Talon, or die. There will be no compromise.”

My mouth went dry. Destroying the Order of St. George was one thing. Threatening an entire race of dragons, especially when they simply wished to be left alone, was another. I forced myself to speak calmly. “Of course. Although, if I may, the Eastern dragons have long been known for their reclusiveness and their unwillingness to take part in the war. Would it not be better to leave them alone, rather than expend lives and resources to hunt them down?”

“Perhaps.” The Elder Wyrm turned back to the window, looking thoughtful. “Certainly, the Eastern dragons would prefer to remain neutral and unopposed, as they always have. But that time is done. All dragons must unite under one banner, one organization. We offered to make a place for the Eastern dragons before and they refused, but now they have seen our strength, and they know they cannot stand against us. I would prefer to have our proud cousins willingly join our cause, but if they do not, they declare themselves enemies of not only Talon, but the rest of dragonkind. We cannot have any opposition in this new world we are creating, Dante. There can be no loose threads hanging in the wind, not this late in the game. No, you will stand before the Eastern council, and you will deliver Talon’s message. This is their final chance. Be certain that they understand.”

I took a furtive breath and nodded. “It will be done.”

The Elder Wyrm turned from the window, and her eyes glittered as she continued to regard me across the room. “This is a test for you, as well, Dante,” she said quietly, making my stomach curl and my pulse thud in my ears. “The Eastern council is comprised of the oldest, most powerful dragons in all of China. You will be far from home, far from the protection of Talon. And the Night of Fang and Fire has decimated their numbers. They will be angry. Neutrality and pacifism aside, they are still dragons—they will want revenge for themselves and their people. If you speak to them as a mere hatchling, demanding they join us or die, they will destroy you without a thought. And neither I nor anyone in Talon will be able to save you.”

I felt a stab of very real fear, imagining myself surrounded by ancient dragons, eyes blazing with anger and hate as they loomed over me. If even one of them decided to end the life of Talon’s representative, there would be nothing I could do about it. Even taking Gila bodyguards would be useless against dragons that old and powerful; they would crush us all without a thought.

“However,” the Elder Wyrm went on, “you are not a mere hatchling. You are the heir to Talon, the prince of an empire, and the Voice of the Elder Wyrm. If you convince them of that, they will not dare to touch you.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she turned and walked back to her desk, her final words causing a chill to settle at the base of my spine. “Now go, and take Talon’s message to the Eastern council. We will see if you are truly worthy of your title.”

Riley

“This is bloody impossible, Riley.” Wes sighed.

I glared at him. The six of us—myself, Ember, St. George, Mist, Jade and Wes—stood in what had once been the tornado shelter of the old farmhouse. It had been repurposed as the command center, mostly because it was the only room that could fit four dragons, a hacker and a soldier of St. George without curious hatchlings wandering in. And that was a good thing, because my temper was running very short, and I was likely to snap at the first teenager who poked his head in wanting to know what we were doing.

The rest of the trip from Brazil had been uneventful. No ambushes, no vessels or agents of Talon leaping out to kill us in the middle of the jungle. No ancient Wyrm swooping in to swallow us in one bite. Though Ember had ranted a bit about spending more time in airport lines than the meeting with Ouroboros. We’d left the Amazon, caught a ride back to civilization and flown home as quickly as we could. I’d arrived at the farmhouse half dreading Talon had already come and that nothing remained but charred, blackened skeletons of both buildings and hatchlings in their wake. But nearly everything was as I left it, and everyone was accounted for: twelve hatchlings, one human hacker and two female dragons. As she had promised, Jade had taken over in my absence, and the hatchlings had developed an almost fanatical respect for the Asian woman.

Mist had been with them, as well, though no one could tell me what she had been doing while we were in Brazil. I’d told Wes what we’d learned as soon as I could reach him, and Mist had gotten ahold of that information, too, because somehow she had been able to acquire an old map of the island, one that detailed the layout of the facility, the buildings, the fence line, everything. When I’d demanded to know where the hell she had gotten it, she’d told me her employer had been able to dig up the old blueprint and send it to her. She wouldn’t say anything more, except that her mystery employer wished us luck with our mission, that he approved of us taking down the facility and would send us more information as he acquired it.

Of course, I’d been suspicious as hell, but I couldn’t argue that having a map to the unnamed island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle was a godsend. I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I couldn’t decide if having the Basilisk around was worth the paranoia. I would have to deal with her eventually, but rescuing the breeders came first.

Unfortunately, after studying the map and discussing the security Talon would likely have set up around the island, it was becoming increasingly clear that we didn’t have a chance.

“Dammit,” I snarled, slamming a palm onto the table where the map had been laid out, smoothed over, pointed at and argued about. We’d been stuffed into this dimly lit hole for several hours, trying to come up with some sort of plan for storming a Talon-owned island facility without getting killed, and we were no closer to rescuing the breeders than we’d been when we first started. The problems were always the same. How were the six of us going to sneak onto a heavily guarded island, make our way past the security and defenses and numerous Talon employees, to get to the breeders? And even if we did get to them, how were we going to sneak them off again? There could be several hundred dragons on that island, some of whom were likely to be pregnant and unable to Shift to human form. We certainly couldn’t herd them all down to the water and tell them to swim for it.

I raked a hand over my scalp, feeling like I was beating my head against a wall as the truth slowly crept over me. There were too few of us. Six individuals, no matter how skilled, stubborn or determined, would not be able to pull this off. We didn’t have the bodies, and we didn’t have the resources. If we attempted to rescue the breeders on our own, we would all die.

Still, I couldn’t give up. I had spent too many years searching for the facilities to stop now. I knew where the breeders were; I’d promised myself I’d free them all if I ever found them. I wasn’t going to stop until I figured this out.

“There has to be a way,” I growled, staring at the map again, as if a solution would suddenly make itself clear. “Something we’re missing. Something we haven’t thought of.”

“Riley,” Wes said. “It’s in the middle of the bloody ocean, mate. You’re not going to float there on a raft. And who knows how much armed security is between you and the breeders? Not to mention all the normal Talon employees, all the people who actually take care of the dragons, the facility and the island. It’ll be like assaulting an amusement park.”

“I don’t want excuses,” I snapped at him. “I don’t want you to tell me it’s impossible. I want you to figure out a way to rescue the dragons Talon has been using as fucking broodmares for years. There has to be a way to do this.”

“There is.”

Ember’s voice floated to me through the darkness. I looked up and saw the red hatchling standing quietly beside the soldier, one fist against her chin in thought. Her green eyes were narrow and solemn as they rose to mine. “There is a way,” she continued. “But...you’re not going to like it.

“We can’t do this alone,” the red hatchling went on, looking to the others, as well. “I think everyone has realized that. It will be next to impossible to get to the breeders, and even if we do, we don’t have a way to get them all off the island. We need help.” She glanced at St. George beside her, and her jaw tightened. “We’re going to need the Order.”

Oh, fuck that.

I was about to follow up the thought with the actual words when Jade cut me off. “Listen to her, Riley,” the Asian dragon urged. “We cannot do this ourselves, that is very clear. We have allied with the Order in the past. So far they have kept their word and have not hunted us down.”

“That was different,” I said. “We were saving their hides back then. They didn’t have much of a choice. I sure as hell am not giving the Order of St. George the location of Talon’s breeder females. What do you think will happen if we take a bunch of dragonslayers onto that island, where there will be countless female dragons with no way to escape? What do you think the breeders will do if they see St. George storming the facility? It’ll be a fucking massacre.”

“Normally, I would agree with you.” Shockingly, this came from the soldier, making Ember frown at him. He stood quietly at the edge of the table, gazing down at the map. “Giving the Order the location of the facility...” His brow furrowed. “It’s a risky move. Riley is correct—St. George has always suspected Talon has a place where they keep many of their female dragons. In the Order...” He hesitated, as if reluctant to continue, before saying in a grave voice, “The highest priority was always taking out the female dragons, because without them, the race couldn’t survive. In any other circumstances, I wouldn’t go to the Order. Martin may be honorable, and some of his soldiers are beginning to realize that not all dragons are the same. But if St. George discovers that the largest population of female dragons is together in one spot...” He shook his head. “Riley has every right to be concerned.

“But,” he added before I could feel vindicated, “these aren’t normal circumstances. Ember is right—there are too few of us to fight a war. We need allies, and the Order of St. George might be the only ones who can help. They’re scattered and broken, but they still have resources we could leverage. If we can get to the Order and convince them that we’re better off standing together, we might have a chance to pull this off.”

I tried very hard not to snarl at them both. “If they listen to us at all,” I said. “And decide not to shoot us in the back of the head the second we set foot on that island.”

“What else are we going to do, Riley?” Ember asked in a reasonable voice. “We don’t have many choices. Talon is still out there trying to kill us and probably the Order, as well. They don’t want any survivors, and if this keeps up, there will be no one left who can stand against the organization. How long before they decide they don’t need the breeder dragons, too?”

“Dammit,” I growled, clenching a fist. They were right; we were out of options, and time was running out. As much as I hated it, it seemed we were going to have to ally with the dragonslayers one more time. “All right.” I sighed. “But if this turns into a slaughter, that’s it, do you hear me? I’ve already lost too many hatchlings to this stupid war. If St. George decides it would rather shoot us than try to stop Talon, I’m done with them for good, understand?” Neither of them answered, though Ember gave a solemn nod. “All right,” I muttered. “So, how exactly are we going to get the Order of St. George to listen to us again without taking off our heads? Teaming up to survive the Night of Fang and Fire was one thing. How the hell are we going to convince an army of dragonslayers to rescue an island of dragons?”

“I’ll contact Lieutenant Martin,” the soldier said. “He, at least, will hear me out. And for the rest of the Order, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“Fine. Make the call, St. George. And let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a massacre.”

Mist stirred, glancing at the ladder leading out of the storm cellar. “If we’re done here,” she said, and it was more of a statement than a question, “I’ll excuse myself.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Got somewhere to be, Mist?”

She gave me a somewhat evil smile that said she knew exactly what I was thinking. “Nowhere in particular,” she said. And without waiting for me to reply, she walked across the room, swung onto the ladder and disappeared through the hatch.

Suspicion flared. I wanted to ask again about the mysterious employer that she was obviously going to contact. That he could so easily “acquire” the map to a top-secret island run by dragons seemed too good to be true. You didn’t just happen to have those things lying around. But I knew Mist would never reveal his identity unless he gave the order himself, and that worried me. The ex-Basilisk wasn’t working for Talon, but she wasn’t working for us, either. This employer of hers might be helping us now, but if he suddenly decided to have her sabotage everything we were fighting for, she would do so without hesitation.

I needed to find out what she knew. Who her employer really was. And if Mist wasn’t going to volunteer the information herself, then I would just have to get it some other way.

Ember

“This is it,” Garret murmured.

From the backseat I peered past his shoulder to gaze up at the church in the middle of the clearing. Not a tiny wooden thing with a single room, either; this was a large stone building with a high steepled roof, soaring arched windows and a bell tower. Its walls were covered in moss, the roof tinged green, but the windows were all intact, and despite the emptiness of it all, it looked like it had been somewhat taken care of.

“Martin and the others are inside,” Garret said, gazing up at the building, too. “This is one of the Order’s safe houses. If any of the other chapterhouses survived, they would rendezvous here.”

“Great.” Riley opened his door with a grimace. “All right, then, three dragons and an ex-soldier knocking on the Order’s door. Let’s get this over with.”

“Have fun, kiddos,” Wes said, waving cheerfully beside me in the backseat. “I’ll just stay here and keep the car warm, in case the bullets start flying.”

We piled out of the Jeep, the three dragons in question—me, Riley and Mist. The only one missing was Jade, who had offered to stay back at the farm and watch the hatchlings, much to Riley’s relief. I knew he would have been even more reluctant to come if he’d had to leave his underground alone. Following Garret, we walked toward the large wooden doors at the top of the steps, where a guard waited beside the frame, watching us approach. He wore normal clothes instead of a St. George uniform, and would’ve looked like a regular person, if not for the M14 held in both hands.

“Sebastian,” he said as we stopped at the top of the stairs. His voice and stance weren’t overly hostile, but they definitely weren’t welcoming.

“Williams,” Garret returned. “Are you here to escort us in?”

The other soldier snorted. “The lieutenant ordered me to let you pass, you and your lizards.” He jerked his head through the door. “So get going. Last door on the right. He’s waiting for you.”

We did as he instructed, ducking into a dim, cool hall that soared high overhead. Light streamed through the tinted windows, casting colorful shadows over the floor, and a hush hung in the air. It was almost peaceful here, despite the tension on the faces of the few soldiers we passed, their gazes suspicious. We reached the last door on the right without being challenged, and Garret knocked on the wood.

“Enter.”

Lieutenant Martin stood in the corner of a tiny office, bookshelves lining the wall and a worn-out desk beneath them. He was speaking to a tall, lean soldier with short black hair, and my heart leaped as I recognized him. Garret drew in a short breath.

“Tristan,” he said, his voice soft with relief. “You made it.”

“Surprised?” The other soldier smirked at him. He had a bandage square taped to his temple, and the shadow of a bruise under one eye, but he was alive and on his feet, not motionless in a hospital bed. “I couldn’t let you take all the glory, could I?”

“Sebastian.” Martin came around the desk, and Tristan fell silent. His black eyes flicked over me and the others. “So, you’re back with the lizards,” he said in a neutral voice. “Has Talon made their move yet? Do we need to prepare for another attack?”

“No, sir,” Garret said. “We...have a request this time. For the Order.” Martin raised a brow, and Garret stepped aside. “I think it’s best that Riley explain it.”

Tristan and Martin looked to the rogue, who gave a heavy sigh, as if he still couldn’t believe he was doing this, and came forward.

“We have a problem,” he said without preamble. “And frankly, you have the same problem, St. George. We’re in a war, but we are completely outnumbered and outgunned. We can’t do anything against Talon, because we don’t have enough bodies to take up the fight.”

“I am well aware, dragon,” Martin said. His voice was calm, not angry or indignant, even when speaking to his ancient enemy. I suddenly realized why Garret respected this man so much. “But the Order of St. George is stretched rather thin at the moment. Am I to assume that you know where we can find more allies?”

The rogue leader nodded. “That’s pretty much the gist of it.”

The lieutenant regarded him solemnly. “And am I also to assume that these...allies...are dragons?” he asked.

Riley sighed again. “Yeah,” he muttered reluctantly. “They’re dragons. Talon has an island, in the North Atlantic Ocean. It’s...where they keep their breeder females. How many are there is anyone’s guess, but they’re the dragons they’ve chosen to produce fertile eggs for the organization, so at least a few.”

Behind Martin, Tristan straightened, eyes widening. “Then it’s true?” he asked in a breathless voice. “There really is a place where Talon keeps all its females.”

Riley glared at him. “Yeah, St. George. There is, and it’s a pretty shitty setup. Dragonells who fail in some way, or who defy the organization, get sent to the facility, to become broodmares for the rest of their lives. They never leave, never get off the island, never have the chance for a normal life. They’re basically prisoners whose only purpose is to pop out eggs for Talon. That sound like a cushy life to you?”

“Dunno.” Tristan smirked. “Private island, all meals provided, nothing to do but sleep, eat and breed? Sounds like heaven to me.”

“St. Anthony,” Martin warned before Riley could explode. “If you cannot behave yourself, you can leave.” Tristan held up both hands, falling silent, and Martin turned back to Riley. “So, these breeders,” he went on. “From your description, I would assume that they are unhappy with Talon’s treatment of them, and would fight the organization if they could?”

“We hope so,” I said as Riley still looked like he might snap Tristan’s head off. “If we can get to the dragonells and free them, we think a few at least will take up the fight with Talon. But we don’t have the numbers to stage a rescue. We can’t get to the island on our own.”

“And that is where you need us,” Martin finished.

“Yes, sir.” Garret nodded. “We hope that the Order would be willing to ally with us, on a more permanent basis. If we combine our people and resources, we’ll have a better chance against Talon.”

Martin didn’t say anything, standing there with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought. “Allying with the rogues would be tactically sound,” he finally agreed, frowning. “However, there are those who would think the Order is being used, that you came to us solely for our help in rescuing these breeder dragons, and when that is done, you will either leave or turn on us.”

“You know that’s not true, sir,” Garret said.

“I know,” Martin agreed. “But I’m not the one you’ll need to convince. I might lead this chapterhouse, but the soldiers are the ones who will be going into battle with you. And if others from St. George show up, what then? How will you convince them that you are not enemies, that you mean the Order no harm?”

“How about not burning this place to the damn ground?” Riley growled. “Or not tearing some idiot’s face off when they keep threatening us? That feels like a pretty good indicator to me.”

Martin’s voice was flat. “It’s not.”

“What do you suggest, Lieutenant?” I asked.

He glanced at me. “If you could do a small task for the Order,” he replied, “work with a few of the soldiers, that would be a sign of goodwill. At the very least, it would be a start.”

“A small task,” Riley repeated. “Of course. And let me guess, you have just the thing in mind, don’t you?”

Martin turned and stepped back around his desk, where several sheets of paper lay across the surface. “The Order took a massive blow when the clones attacked,” he said, picking up one of the documents. “We’ve been scrambling for supplies, resources, anything that will help defend us when we’re attacked again. Recently, I received word about an item that could specifically help our cause. A weapon capable of firing shots with such velocity that it can punch through damn near anything. A high-powered rifle meant to pierce through tanks, armored cars, bunkers...and possibly the chest plates of a full-grown Adult dragon.”

My eyes widened, and Riley gave an incredulous snort.

“Oh, a dragon-killing gun,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “That’s definitely something the Order needs. We’ll get right on that.”

“If we are to fight Talon, we need all the resources we can get,” Martin said firmly. “You said so yourself—we are vastly outnumbered and outgunned. We all saw the Adult clone the night the base was attacked. What if Talon has more of them? This might give us an edge against such enemies.”

“Sadly, it doesn’t exist quite yet.” This came from Tristan, indicating the two of them had been discussing the weapon before we came in. I wasn’t surprised. Tristan was the Order’s best sniper; he would certainly be interested in a rifle capable of punching through the armor of a dragon. “It’s a prototype, being designed by the military. But they’re transporting it to another base tomorrow night. And since it’s top secret and they don’t want anyone catching wind of the prototype and possibly stealing it, they’re doing it by train.”

“By train?” Riley repeated. “Why?”

“Possibly to keep it hidden. Military escorts draw attention.” Tristan shrugged. “And a train is harder to hijack, especially if there are armed guards in every car. Which there probably will be.”

“So, let me get this straight.” The rogue leader crossed his arms. “You want us to track down a train guarded by the US military, steal a prototype weapon specifically designed to kill dragons and hand it over to the Order of St. George?”

“Basically?” Tristan looked at Garret, who said nothing. “Yeah.”

“If you do this,” Martin added, “you will be sending a message to the rest of the Order that you are willing to help us, to stand with us. And we will be more inclined to help you, in return.”

“Or we get ourselves killed, and you don’t have to worry about it,” Riley muttered. “No skin off your nose. I don’t see you volunteering any of your men to help.”

“That is not true,” Martin replied calmly. “St. Anthony will be going with you.”

“I... Sir?” Tristan glanced at the lieutenant in surprise.

Martin’s lip curled in a faint smile. “You wanted to see the prototype, St. Anthony. Now’s your chance.” Tristan looked like he wanted to argue, but he was too well disciplined to talk back to his superior officer. Martin narrowed his eyes. “The dragons cannot be the only ones making the sacrifices, soldier,” he said. “The Order of St. George, and this chapterhouse, is more honorable than that. We must meet them halfway at least. Go with Sebastian, procure the weapon and aid them in any way you can. That is an order, St. Anthony.”

Tristan saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“Uh, one question,” Riley said. “How are we supposed to get on this armed train? I assume it’ll be moving. And they’ll certainly notice a car pulling up alongside it.”

Martin gave that faint smile. “A stealthy approach is definitely recommended,” he replied, and I suddenly realized what he was implying. “If I were to plan an attack, I would suggest a drop from above.”

Garret

“It’s late,” Tristan muttered. “That’s not a good sign.”

I glanced at him. There were four of us, sitting on or around an old black jeep, about two hundred yards from the tracks. Me, Tristan, Ember and Riley: two soldiers of St. George and two dragons waiting side by side. I could feel the subtle tension in the soldiers around me, both dragon and human; both sides uncomfortable with having the other so close. Riley and Tristan, in particular, seemed especially agitated. Probably because the first part of the mission involved dropping onto the train from dragonback, and to say neither seemed thrilled with that idea was a gross understatement. But as much as they might hate it, and each other, they would carry the mission through. Tristan because Martin had ordered it, and Riley because he knew we had to secure the Order’s help to reach the facility. I just hoped we could get through this night with no incidents. Missions were difficult enough when your team liked and respected each other; forcing two lifelong enemies to work together was a much riskier operation.

Beside me, Ember was quiet, watching the tracks as we waited on the passenger’s side of the jeep. Like me, she was dressed in black: black sweater, pants and a dark ski cap pulled over her bright red hair. Though for her part, she wouldn’t need them much longer. She seemed calm, far calmer than Riley or even Tristan, though my ex-partner hid his anxiousness well. I could feel the subtle heat of her body next to mine, tempting me to pull her close, but I stifled those urges for now. The mission took priority. I could feel Tristan watching us sometimes, stealing a glance when he thought I wasn’t looking, his expression caught between confusion and doubt. Like he was trying to puzzle something out, and neither of us were giving him the answers he expected.

Abruptly, Tristan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and held it to his ear, then muttered a short “Roger that” a moment later. Lowering his arm, he glanced at me. “Ryan just gave the heads-up. Train’s on its way now. We’re about ten minutes from go time.”

Ember took a deep breath and looked at Riley. “Guess that’s our cue.”

Riley gave a curt nod, and the two dragons moved into the shadows, ducking behind the copse of trees at our backs and vanishing from sight. Tristan let out a furtive breath and glanced at my side of the Jeep.

“This is crazy. You realize that, right?”

Apparently, his enthusiasm for the heist had dulled when he’d realized he had to be part of it. “Yeah. I know.”

“We’re robbing a train—a freaking train—on dragonback. Two soldiers of St. George, flying in on dragons, to pull off a train heist in the middle of nowhere. I mean, stop for a second and really think about how ludicrous that sounds.”

I gave a half smile. “My whole year has sort of been like that.” Pushing myself off the car door, I walked forward a few steps and gazed down the tracks, looking for the telltale glimmer of the train. Briefly, I thought of all the things that had happened to me since I’d fled the Order in the company of dragons. Meeting the rogues. Being kidnapped by an ancient Eastern dragon. Discovering Talon’s clone army. Going to Brazil to meet the most powerful rogue in the world and the second-oldest dragon in existence. Any one of those things might give a normal soldier of St. George a nervous breakdown. All because I’d committed the strangest crime of all: falling in love with the enemy. “Actually, this is pretty far down the weirdness scale for me,” I told Tristan, who arched his brows. “I’m so desensitized to it now I don’t think I can be surprised anymore.”

Tristan shook his head. “Damn, Sebastian,” he muttered. “I don’t even want to know what you’ve been doing the past few months. Living with the lizards.” He snorted. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“They’re not that different from us,” I told him. For a moment, a small, tired part of me wondered if I was wasting my breath, but I stomped on that voice. Convincing the Order was not going to be done overnight. We had made an amazing amount of progress already; I couldn’t expect Tristan to start trusting dragons after twenty-two years of trying to eliminate their entire race. “It’s not like I was living with robots or wild dogs,” I went on.

“You’ve said that before,” Tristan muttered.

“And I’m even more certain now.” I turned, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ve lived with these dragons for months,” I said, holding his gaze. “I’ve fought beside them, argued with them, rescued a few from Talon and the Order and had my own ass saved a few times. I’ve spent more hours with these dragons than anyone else in the history of St. George ever has. I think I should know them, and their intentions, by now.”

“Easy, tiger.” Tristan held up his hands. “I’m not disagreeing with you. And...holy shit.”

I glanced calmly over my shoulder as two long, scaly forms prowled out of the shadows under the trees, their eyes glowing yellow and green in the darkness. They appeared without noise or warning, silent despite their relatively large size, wings and claws making no sound as they glided over the dirt. Tristan straightened, one hand dropping to his sidearm, making Cobalt curl a lip at him.

“Don’t be stupid, St. George,” the rogue growled, breaking the silence. With a snort, he stalked around the other side of the jeep, subtly putting the vehicle between himself and the soldier. “I’m already hating this enough as it is.”

My ex-partner blinked, probably from hearing the sarcastic voice and tone coming out of a dragon’s mouth. Another reminder that Riley and the dragon were the same—same creature, same personality—just wearing different forms.

Ember padded up behind me and laid her chin on my shoulder as she gazed at the tracks. Her scales were warm, not heavy or uncomfortable, and I could see the reflection of her glowing dragon eyes in the corner of my own gaze. I felt Tristan staring at us again, and wondered what he thought about having a dragon’s fire-breathing jaws and lethal fangs a breath away from your throat. I could almost hear him squirming uncomfortably against the jeep, thinking I was tempting fate. I felt nothing. Nothing but the calm stillness before a mission. If anything, the steady breathing of the dragon beside me, her dark wings casting us in even more shadow, only made me certain of our success. She knew what she had to do. This wasn’t anything new or strange. We’d been through so many crazy circumstances together that having a large crimson dragon leaning against me felt perfectly normal. Ember the dragon was no different than Ember the human. I trusted her with my life.

Now, if Tristan and Cobalt could tolerate each other long enough to get this done, and not kill each other on the way, things would be perfect.

“There it is,” Ember murmured.

My senses sharpened, and I raised my head, followed her gaze. A distant spotlight was cutting through the darkness, winking in and out through the trees. I could hear it, suddenly, the clank of metal on iron tracks, the rattle of dozens of cars, and I breathed slowly to control my heartbeat.

“All right,” Cobalt growled, and took a breath, as if he was psyching himself up to do something horribly unpleasant, like plunge his head into a bucket of spiders. “I guess it’s time. Let’s get this circus show on the road.”

I double-checked to make certain I had everything I needed as Ember stepped forward and lowered her wings, crouching slightly as she did. Careful to avoid her spines, I swung onto her back, settling in front of her wing joints. For a moment, I felt a weird sense of déjà vu. The last time I’d done this was the night Ember and Cobalt had broken me out of the Western Chapterhouse hours before my execution could’ve taken place. This was a very different scenario. So much had changed.

I glanced at Tristan, who was standing next to Cobalt with an uncertain look on his face, as if contemplating the best way to mount a dragon. Cobalt, for his part, was making it as easy as he could; his wings were lowered and the frill that went down his back and neck had been folded flat to his spine. The blue dragon stared straight ahead, unmoving, only the tip of his tail beating an irritated rhythm in the dust, as Tristan struggled with the problem. Finally, Cobalt let out an impatient hiss.

“Are you waiting for a saddle, St. George? Our ride is almost here. Let’s go.”

“Shit,” Tristan muttered, and threw himself onto the dragon’s back. He scrabbled gracelessly for a moment, trying to find the best position, before settling in front of the wings as I had done. “Ow, dammit, watch where your spines are poking,” he growled as Cobalt smirked back at him. “I’m not planning to have kids, but I’d still like the option.”

Cobalt snickered. “I’ll try not to come to any sudden stops.”

Ember raised her head and peered at me, her eyes a solemn green in the darkness. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded.

The train approached, rumbling along the track, its single light piercing the darkness before it. I felt Ember’s muscles coil, felt the ripple of power that went through the dragon as her wings unfurled to either side of me like sails. She crouched, and I braced myself as she launched herself into the air with one powerful downward flap. Wind blasted me, tearing at my hair and clothes, as we rose into the air, the ground falling swiftly away into blackness. I kept myself pressed low over Ember’s neck, gritting my teeth as we climbed, my arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

Ember leveled out, her wing beats becoming less frequent and powerful as she eased into a glide, buoyed on the wind currents. Carefully, I sat up and looked around for Tristan.

Cobalt soared alongside us a few yards to the right, wings outstretched, tail streaming behind him. It was hard to tell from the distance and the movement of the dragons, but I thought there was a smirk on his scaly face. Behind his shoulders, Tristan was still flat against the dragon’s body, arms wrapped around his neck in a death grip. His eyes weren’t closed, but his jaw was clenched, and his gaze was fixed firmly to a spot between Cobalt’s horns, as if he were refusing to look down. I bit the corner of my lip, not knowing whether to feel sympathy or amusement. Abruptly, his gaze flickered to me, a death glare shooting from his eyes. The howling wind would blow away our voices, but I didn’t have to hear him to know what he was thinking. Laugh and I will kill you.

The train snaked away below us, cutting a silent path to the north. Ember angled a wingtip down, and we glided after it.

I bent forward, pressing close to the dragon’s neck as she dropped lower, wings beating occasionally to stay aloft. Winds buffeted us, and Ember wobbled in the gusts coming off the train, but we soared over the caboose and dropped even lower, skimming just ten or so feet from the moving rail cars.

The prototype is in the sixth car from the engine, I thought, remembering Martin’s instructions to us before we left. According to my sources, the prototype and the cars immediately adjacent to it will be under guard, but the rest of the train should be empty. If you want to get the drop on them, the best way is to go through one of the roof hatches of the cars before it.

The engine and tinder car loomed ahead of us. Ember drew up, then back-flapped her wings three times and dropped from the air. Her talons hit the roof with a metallic thump, and she instantly splayed her feet to keep her balance on the moving car.

Carefully, I slid off the dragon’s back and took a moment to find my balance, as well. The train wasn’t moving very fast, but the rooftop was narrow, and the car shook and rattled as it continued down the tracks. I crouched next to Ember as Cobalt and Tristan landed behind us, the scrape of claws on the metal roof echoing over the wind.

Ember swung her head around to face me, concern shining from her green dragon eyes. “You got this, soldier boy?” she asked, her breath warm even through the shrieking wind. “I still don’t like the thought of leaving you here. What if you need backup?”

“We’ll be fine.” I glanced at Tristan as he slid down and crouched low as I had done. “This is part of the plan. We’re not here to fight the whole train. We just need to get in, get to the prototype and get out quickly. It shouldn’t be too heavily guarded—no one is expecting an attack, especially one where people drop onto the roof from dragons.” I half smiled at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Just follow the train and stay close,” I continued, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Be ready to come swooping in when it’s time. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be leaving the train from car six in approximately ten minutes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And if everything does not go according to plan?”

Tristan snorted, keeping his body bent horizontal to the roof as he joined us. “Then we’ll still need that extraction,” he told the dragon. “Just double time.”

“Oh, sure, we can do that,” Cobalt added, creeping behind him like a giant blue cat, his wings fluttering wildly in the wind. “Go ahead and hurl yourself off the roof of the train, St. George. I promise, I’ll try my best to catch you.”

Ember sighed. “Be careful, Garret,” she whispered, drawing away. The wind ripped at me almost instantly, cold and eager to push me off the edge. “Don’t get killed over this. We’ll be close. If you’re not on the roof in ten minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

“Ten minutes,” I told her. “See you then.”

Ember crouched, half opened her wings and sprang off the car, blasting me with wind as she rose into the air. A second later, Cobalt did the same, and the two dragons soared up into the darkness until they were lost from sight.

I glanced at Tristan, and he nodded. Now it was our turn. Ember and Cobalt had done their part in getting us here unseen. It was up to us to find the prototype, subdue any opposition guarding it and get out before the rest of the guards discovered what was going on.

We crept along the roof, keeping our footsteps light and our shoulders braced against the wind, until we reached the hatch at one of the corners. Our objective was two cars down, but there was a guard car between us, with armed soldiers inside. Even if Ember and Riley had been as quiet as they could, two dragons with a pair of riders landing on the roof of a metal car with soldiers still inside would have drawn attention and given us away. We couldn’t swoop onto the prototype car, not without alerting the US military to the existence of dragons. We had to take care of the guards before we went after the prototype.

As Tristan pulled open the hatch and shined a flashlight into the pitch-blackness within, a shadow overhead caught my attention. I glanced up to see two dragon-shaped blurs against the night sky, dark wings outstretched as they glided after the train. Ember and Cobalt, right where they’d said they would be.

“Clear,” Tristan said at my shoulder. “Let’s move.”

I switched on my flashlight, pulled out my weapon with my other hand and dropped through the hatch.

I hit a metal floor in a crouch, then quickly scanned my surroundings for enemies. The narrow space was empty, the walls bare. I stepped aside as Tristan landed next to me with a barely audible thump, and we crept toward the door at the end of the box. The metal barrier was latched but not locked, and we quickly slipped through onto the platform of the next car, pressing ourselves beside the doorframe. After a moment of silence, I knelt at the door and opened a compartment on my vest to pull out a long black tube, while Tristan stood at the frame and watched my back.

Silently, I fed the snake cam through the crack beneath the door, watching the screen as I turned the night vision lens to scan the room beyond. There were two soldiers standing in the room about fifteen feet from the door, talking to each other. Their postures were relaxed, though both carried M16s in their hands. They obviously weren’t expecting an attack, but we’d have to be quick. If we ignored these two guards, they would engage us while we were trying to make our escape.

I pulled the snake cam out and held up two fingers to Tristan, indicating the room beyond. He nodded and swung out of his pack, then pulled out strips of breaching charges before handing them to me. When the charges had been placed over the locks and hinges, we retreated back to the first car, and Tristan held up three fingers. Two. One.

Both of us turned away as the boom of an explosion rocked the night and sent smoke billowing from the door. Before the smoke had even cleared, Tristan rushed to the frame, kicked in the crippled door and tossed a flashbang into the room.

Shouts of alarm came from inside, just as a retina-burning flash pierced the darkness, followed by a muffled boom of energy. I lunged through the frame and saw a pair of dazed, reeling soldiers just before Tristan and I slammed into them. My soldier didn’t resist as I snaked an arm around his throat and sent him into unconsciousness.

Lowering the limp sentry to the floor, I looked up at Tristan, who nodded grimly as he released the second unconscious guard. That took care of this car, but the one with our objective in it was surely going to be more of a challenge. Any soldiers in it had certainly heard the explosions caused by charges and flashbangs and would know that they were under attack. They’d be ready for us.

Swiftly, we moved to the other end of the car. As we pressed to either side of the frame, Tristan nodded at me, and I quickly pushed open the door.

A hail of machine gun fire rang out. I jerked back as a storm of bullets peppered the frame, sparking off the railings and metal walls. Apparently, the guards had decided to take the initiative and not wait for us to kick in the door. From the sounds of the weapons, two soldiers stood to either side of the frame, firing M16s in sharp three-round bursts at us. Tristan and I pressed back behind the doorframe, sparks flying around us, and waited for an opportunity to move. I had a flashbang in hand, but the soldiers were giving us no chance to counterstrike. If I poked any body part out of cover now, I would get a bullet through it.

There was a roar overhead, a swooping of leathery wings, and a curtain of fire suddenly appeared between us and the soldiers. It blazed against the darkness, blindingly hot and intense, and the storm of gunfire ceased amid loud cursing and cries of alarm. The shadow swooped up and out of sight, too fast to be seen clearly, but for a few seconds the soldiers gaped after it, stunned. Long enough for me to pop out and hurl the flashbang at their feet.

The force of the explosion threw one soldier into the wall, where he collapsed, motionless. The other staggered back, reeling, and Tristan leaped over the space between cars, kicked him in the stomach and followed with a savage right hook to the guard’s temple that knocked him senseless.

The way to our objective was clear. Quickly, we ducked through the door, wary for more soldiers lying in ambush, but the car was empty save for a narrow wooden table in the middle of the floor. A lamp sat atop it, bathing the table in a dim orange glow, and in the center of the light lay a long case of glimmering metal.

Tristan let out a breath, reached out and pulled the case toward him. It was almost certainly our objective, but we had to make sure. The case was padlocked shut, but a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters took care of that problem. The latch released with a click, and Tristan yanked it open.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured as the lid fell back. A long, long black barrel lay gleaming in the cutout foam padding, much larger than a standard rifle barrel and three times as thick. It was obviously meant to be fired from a stand or tripod, as it would be far too heavy for a single person to lift, much less aim. The rest of the weapon had been disassembled and lay in pieces in various foam cutouts, but Tristan stroked the length of the barrel with an almost maniacal glint in his eye. “Hello, beautiful,” he purred. “Would you like to come home with me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Romeo, ask it to dinner later. We gotta move.”

Almost at the same time, a bang came from the door at the far end of the car, and angry voices echoed through the barrier. More guards were on their way.

“Shit.” Tristan closed the case with a snap, then hauled it off the table. It was almost too big for a single person to carry, but he set his jaw and started for the door. “Let’s go.”

We left the car, hurried to the ladder and together managed to drag the prototype case onto the roof. Wind buffeted us, cold and savage, and the tops of the empty train cars stretched on in either direction.

“All right,” Tristan panted, holding tightly to the case as he scanned the sky. “Where the hell are those lizards? We’re sort of sitting ducks out here.”

“They’ll be here—”

“Freeze!”

I looked up. Three soldiers had ascended the roof of the car from the other side, and a pair of M16s were now pointed in our direction. One of the men, the one out front, looked to be a captain or sergeant, for he was dressed differently than the near-identical soldiers behind him. I raised my hands as he approached, the two guards flanking him, to give me a hard smile.

“Well, well. End of the line, it seems.” His voice had a trace of a Southern accent, breathy and somewhat smug. “I guess I’ll have to give you props for this ballsy little heist. Though, for the life of me, I don’t know where you thought you were going to go, unless your plan was to sprout wings and fly away.”

Tristan snorted, managing to turn a laugh into a rather painful-sounding cough that didn’t fool anyone. The officer’s eyes narrowed, and pointed a black handgun at my face. “Put down the case and step away, now,” he demanded. “Nice and slow, and keep your hands where I can see them.” When neither of us moved, his voice turned hard. “Boy, don’t make me shoot you,” he said as the soldiers behind him took aim. “It’s over. There’s nowhere to go. Your choices are either death by jumping or death by lead poisoning. Or you can surrender now and live awhile longer. Personally, I’d take the last option.”

There was a ripple of shadow over the trees, and I smiled. “One more,” I said, making the officer frown. “There is one more choice.”

“Yep,” Tristan agreed, the smirk on his face indicating that he’d seen it, too. He kept a tight hold of the case as he nodded to the soldiers. “Time to go. Sorry, boys, but we’re doing you a favor, trust me.”

The officer’s frown turned to a scowl. “All right, that’s enough of that. Shoot—”

A roar boomed overhead. The two soldiers whirled, and managed to prostrate themselves on the roof as the two dragons came swooping in. The officer screamed, raising his gun to fire, but was hit by a passing wing and knocked to his back, barely stopping himself from going off the edge. Cobalt didn’t slow; I heard Tristan’s yelp of surprise as the blue dragon grabbed both him and the weapon case and flapped away over the trees. A half second later, talons closed around my arms, my feet left the roof and I watched the train fall away beneath me as Ember rose into the air, beating her wings furiously, and we soared over the tree line and disappeared into the night.

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