26. Madness and destruction.
Madness and destruction.
JAYCE
H arlow calls my name, and fierce hope blooms inside my chest. He’s alive… he’s alive!
I gesture to Alara, informing her I’m going below decks.
She nods; she has my back. To my left, Wilbur empties his liquid-fire shotshells on the enemy crew, efficiently taking down two men.
He would have made a ruthless pirate had he chosen the life at sea before the Crimson War instead of being an inventor.
I jump through the door leading below decks, bypassing the stair entirely, guided by my desire to hold Harlow safe in my arms.
A heavy gilded door stands in my way, and my gut tells me he’s on the other side. I kick it open without hesitation. The tall aristocrat stands on the other side, holding a pistol to Harlow’s head. My vision narrows on it, and I raise my own pistol.
“Don’t take another step, or I’ll blow your pretty friend’s brains out,” the man says.
If I hadn’t already decided that he needed to die for what they did to Kuroki, this moment alone would have sealed his fate.
I seek Harlow’s gaze. “Are you okay, baby?”
My fierce dragoner smiles, lips trembling. “Yes… Kuroki?”
“He lost his hand, but he’ll live.”
A sob escapes him. “Fuck…” His hand tightens dangerously on the man’s arm, encircled around his chest.
“Hey, look at me,” I say to catch his attention before he can do something stupid and get himself killed. “He’ll be fine. And you know what? Wilbur has it bad for him. All he’s been doing is holding his hand and crying in the crook of his neck.”
Harlow’s eyes widen. “Really? Wow.”
“Stop blabbering,” says the aristocrat, pushing the pistol’s barrel into his temple. “You’ll both escort us outside and ensure we make it off this airship unscathed with the egg. Clarence, can you hold on to me?”
That’s when I notice the blonde man at his feet, pale as death. “I… I can’t…” he rasps.
The aristocrat’s eyes flash with uncertainty before relaxing his hold on Harlow. “Help Clarence, Mr. Prince, and I’ll get the egg. Make one wrong move, and I’ll shoot you.”
“And then I’ll kill you,” I say, reminding him I have a pistol, too.
“Hunter…” the sickly man—Clarence—whispers, eyes on his friend.
Hunter ignores my warning and pushes Harlow to his knees. Harlow carries Clarence to his feet—he appears to weigh nothing.
The aristocrat keeps the pistol aimed at Harlow’s head as he gets a hold of the crate by the leather handle.
“Why all this?” I can’t help but ask as I watch them walk slowly to the door. “Why this madness and destruction?”
I’m surprised when he answers me truthfully. “For love, Captain. It’s something even a lowlife like you should understand.”
My hand itches on the pistol. One bullet could ruin his handsome face…
“They’re using the eggs to extend Clarence’s life,” Harlow says over his shoulder. “He’s dying.”
Clarence chuckles faintly, his head limp on Harlow’s shoulder.
Their mad hunt for dragon eggs suddenly comes into sharp focus as the ultimate piece of the puzzle slides into place. I feel like laughing too. It makes sense. Only love would drive someone to such an extent. If only their goal hadn’t clashed with my love for my crew, I could have sympathized.
Harlow carries Clarence up the steps and into the light outside, followed closely by Hunter, who holds him at gunpoint, eyes darting between us.
I could take the shot now, but I won’t risk Harlow’s life, even on a one-to-ten risk.
Outside, my crew is still fighting with our enemies at the bow, and I can’t take my eyes off the aristocrat to convey our need to them.
The surrounding city is choking with smoke, the two towers of the University the only reminder of where we are.
Somewhere in the sky, Myrval roars her rage and despair.
“We’ll leave now, Captain,” Hunter says. “Do not come after us. If you do, I’ll kill your pretty dragoner. If you let us go, I’ll free him once we’re far enough from here.”
I scoff. “Free him in a city under attack by the dragon you enraged?”
He smiles. “It’s the best odds you can expect. If I were you, I would accept my luck and get out of here as soon as possible.”
“You can‘t leave with the egg,” Harlow says. “We need to give it back to Myrval, or we’ll have on our hands another Reign of Fire.”
“If it’s the price to pay, so be it,” the man says.
Fury twists Harlow’s face. “How convenient for you, when you’re not the one paying the bill.” His hands twitch.
And I know he’s going to do something stupid, and all I can do is to be ready to handle the consequences when he does.
Harlow throws Clarence toward Hunter, who in his surprise shoots before dropping the crate containing the egg in favor of catching his lover. Harlow falls to the ground, and I see red in an instant.
Is it over? Have I lost him forever, before I could even show him how deep my affection for him ran?
I fire my pistol, the bullet taking two fingers off Hunter’s hand and forcing him to drop his weapon.
Harlow—wonderfully alive—scrambles to deck and away from our enemies. He’s holding the top of his shoulder, but there is little blood, so the bullet must have barely grazed him.
The aristocrat screams with rage and pulls out his rapier with his other hand, but his fury is nothing compared to mine. I have felt, for a terrible breath, how colorless the world would be without Harlow in it. I have felt the brush of despair, and I’m out for blood.
I dodge Hunter’s first attack, giving me enough time to pull my cutlass and meet his next one. Our blades clash—once, twice… He slashes his rapier upward, cutting the dragonhide along my shoulder.
He seems to be a good duelist, but I wasn’t trained in the pristine grounds of a castle like him but at sea, and I fight like a pirate.
I kick his leg out from under him, dislocating the knee. He screams in pain and outrage. Behind him, Clarence screams too, witnessing his lover’s collapse.
Harlow is backing away from us, pulling the crate containing the egg by the leather strap.
Hunter tries to cut me at the ankles with his rapier, but I jump over his attack and kick the weapon out of his hand. It clanks on the deck.
“You can’t stop us!” he roars, like a man unused to facing resistance to his whims.
I grab him by the collar of his expensive coat and say, “Watch me.”
He pulls out a jeweled dagger from an inner pocket and tries to cut my throat.
But I saw it coming; I wasn’t born yesterday.
I twist his wrist, breaking it, then get a hold of his blade and bury it in his gut instead of his heart—he doesn’t deserve a simple death; not as the people of Dragonest burn around us because of his actions.
His eyes widen, and he sputters unintelligible words, shocked by his demise.
Behind us, Clarence howls in anguish. I pull out the dagger and throw it into the flames engulfing the stern.
“I won’t say I don’t understand your motive,” I say to him. “I, too, would wish to burn the world to the ground for Harlow and my crew. But they would never forgive me if I did, and neither would I.”
The aristocrat tries to say something, but the pain takes hold of him and he falls on his back.
Clarence crawls to him on the floor and throws his arms over his chest, tears running down his bloodless face. “What have you done? What have you done!”
I ignore his pain and walk away.
“Are you okay?” I ask Harlow, hands already reaching for him.
He sobs and puts the crate on the deck before throwing his arms around my neck. I bury my nose in his hair. He smells of smoke, but underneath it I can still make out the sweet scent of him.
“Thank you for coming for me,” he says.
I scoff. “I would have flown to the end of the world and back if I had had to. But you’ve fallen from the sky on top of us, chased by a dragon. How typical of you.”
Harlow laughs wetly, and I can’t resist kissing him. Relief and love—so much love—spark in my chest. He’s alive. He’s safe.
But my relief is short-lived. Myrval roars in the sky overhead, and the city burns under her blazing fury.