Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Caelian’s chest heaved as she climbed the uneven terrain of the mountainside.
It had not been her intention to hike the well-worn path that wove between the Moonfall Peaks, but she found herself in possession of the strong desire to rein in control of her riotous emotions.
Her nose burned and she knew her eyes would be puffy and swollen—damn that blasted general for being so heartless.
The quick spear of his remorseless words cut through her like a blade, and she’d been unable to recover.
Nothing could’ve prevented the unbidden tears, or the way he so easily shredded her heart into a thousand insignificant pieces.
Another shuddering breath escaped her.
She was panting now, as it wasn’t often she opted for such grueling physical exercise, certainly not the type that left her weak from exertion.
Still, she continued to climb the worn path, her boots digging into the rocky surface of the ground, her skirts gathered into tightly clenched fists.
Though it was well into midmorning, the air was brisk and lacking the warmth of the fast-approaching summer.
Gusting wind barreled into her, making every step an uphill battle.
Its howl echoed in her ears, drowning out the tedious quiet.
Chills raced down her spine as her dress clung to her skin, the length of fabric rippling behind her like a banner.
She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering.
A bank of low-lying clouds shrouded the amethyst peaks, and a dense fog curled around her.
Before her, the path leveled out, and Caelian considered her options.
She could keep going, which honestly did not sound very enjoyable.
Or she could turn around and head back down the mountain.
However, given the ache in her calves and feet, she wasn’t entirely sure that was the smartest option either.
She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill, when a distressing groan caused the ground she was standing upon to shudder and quake.
Caelian threw her arms out for balance, grasping at the rocky ledge nearest her for support. A tremor of fear spliced through her, for she hadn’t realized she’d traveled so deep into the Moonfall Peaks.
There could only be one possible source for such a sound.
The dragons.
Svartos, Astrylys, and Odryss dwelled deep within the cavernous walls of the mountainside.
They came from Brackroth, and belonged to Drake, Creslyn, and Kjeld respectively.
She’d seen them up close a rare number of times, and Kjeld had taken her for a ride on the back of Odryss only once—it was the most thrilling memory of her life—but that was before.
Before she saved his life.
Before he turned fae.
She could have sworn their lair was further east, closer to the seaside cliffs. Yet the noise she heard sounded as though it came from the wall of rock at her back.
Again, there was another miserable screech. Something about the pitiful call sent spasms of alarm shivering along her spine. Apprehension rolled her shoulders back and her ears pricked in caution. Tilting her head, Caelian listened.
Another groan, this one full of pain and discomfort.
One of the dragons was hurt.
Without hesitation, Caelian sprinted toward the sound of the injured dragon.
She braced one hand along the rocky surface of the wall, traced it with her palm, and let the agonizing bellow guide her.
She told herself she would help either way, even if it was Svartos, for he was the most intimidating of the three.
But surely he would recognize her scent and not see her as a threat. At least she hoped as much.
Clambering over twisted roots and immovable stones, she followed the trail until it veered off from the main path.
Caelian rounded the corner, her boots sliding against loose gravel, and faced the large empty mouth of a poorly lit cave.
Or a lair. She couldn’t be sure. Hesitance, and perhaps a sliver of fear, caused her to freeze in her tracks.
She had no idea what she was doing, only that she couldn’t bear to listen to the dragon’s disturbing cries and do absolutely nothing to help.
If one of them was injured, then at least she could assess the situation and go fetch someone to help.
Unfortunately, the nearest someone was Kjeld, but she ignored that bit of knowledge for the time being.
The gaping opening of the cave stared back at her, bleak and fathomless.
Sconces were affixed to the damp walls, the flames wavering as though they would snuff out completely with the next billow of wind.
Caelian tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and steeled her spine.
Once more, the dragon loosed a guttural sort of whine, and her heart lurched.
Refusing to waste another precious second of time, Caelian rushed into the cave.
Droplets of water plopped into discolored puddles, the sound eerily reminiscent of a spring rainfall.
The ground was slick beneath her boots, and the air was hot and damp, thick like syrup.
A metallic tang lingered, so heavy it coated each breath.
Her stomach seized and her eyes burned, but she pushed forward, keeping her footfalls distinctively loud and determined.
She wanted the dragon to know she was coming, and seeing as she didn’t know much about dragon safety or even how to protect herself, she imagined catching one by surprise was probably not the best idea.
The serpentine cavern walls seemed to continue forever.
Caelian was about to give up, she almost convinced herself she’d made it to the end of the cave to no avail, when a pungent, rotten stench engulfed her.
It scalded her lungs and throat, left her gagging for air.
A dense ache immediately formed at her temples—a pulsing, throbbing kind of pain that blurred her vision.
She keeled over, clutching her stomach as the violent urge to dry heave overwhelmed her.
She grabbed the wall with one hand to keep herself upright, nails biting into stone, as a wash of flickering amber light and crawling shadows displayed the horrifying scene before her.
On the ground, her silvery-hued scales coated in thick blood and piercing keen blue eyes fixed on Caelian, was Astrylys.
Spiky thorns pierced her lovely scales, puncturing through to the flesh beneath, so ribbons of scarlet pooled around her in winding rivers.
Her wings, once a shimmering iridescence, were now muted and gray, folded into her sides.
The ground she lay upon was black and decaying, shriveled vines reeking of death and covered in grime climbed the walls of the cave.
It was as though the entirety of this part of the mountain’s life force had been drained.
Caelian had only witnessed one such act before, at her sister Novalise’s wedding, when the horrors of dark magic bloomed with life.
Astylys struggled to lift her head, her jaws opening then snapping closed as a plume of gray smoke swirled from between her teeth.
Caelian threw her hands up.
“I mean…” she choked the words out, struggling to breathe. She wiped the back of her hands beneath her eyes. “I mean you no harm, Astrylys. I’m here to…to help.”
Astrylys arched the length of her neck, the scales there dripping with blood, and it was then Caelian saw the nest housing three dragon eggs. Two glittering black and one iridescent silver.
Or at least, it should have been a nest. Having never seen one before, she assumed it would be composed of twigs, fallen branches, leaves, and things of that nature.
Much like a bird’s nest. However, this one was made of twisted bramble and unforgiving thorns that swiveled over the nest, as though it was trying to puncture the shimmering eggs.
Caelian’s gaze widened in horror—the coils of thorny bramble were moving.
Tightening. Squeezing. Like the nest was trying to crush and destroy the very things it was built to protect.
The dragon eggs were helpless against the onslaught, and it appeared Astrylys had done everything within her power to free them from the mangled vine.
But she had injured herself in the process.
The dragon’s wounds were more severe than she thought.
One large thorn in particular was wedged into her chest and crimson blood poured from the gash.
If Caelian couldn’t stop the bleeding, Astrylys would die.
“It’s okay. I’m…I’m going to help you.” Her temples pulsed, the swelling ache spreading to the base of her neck. Each breath was a wheeze, like her lungs were on fire.
She fisted the hem of her gown and yanked, ripping the fine fabric, shredding it clear up to her thigh.
With trembling hands, she tore off a lengthy strip and wadded it up into a makeshift bandage.
The stench of rot and decay was too much, too dense, and her stomach heaved.
She swallowed down the bile scalding the back of her throat and carefully approached Astrylys.
The dragon reared back and loosed a deafening shriek, so the cave walls shuddered. Bits of debris tumbled from the curved ceiling. The splitting sound raked through Caelian’s mind like sharpened talons, clawing and digging.
She squinted against the agony, her chest seizing as she sucked in a gulp of foul air.
“I’m trying to help you!” she shouted, but Astrylys swayed in the direction of the nest before toppling onto her side. The force of her fall sent Caelian careening backward so she landed hard on her bottom.
“Please,” she begged, struggling to her feet. She staggered toward the fallen dragon. “If you don’t let me help you, you’re going to die.”
She rushed to Astrylys then, grateful when the dragon didn’t thrash, but worried she was likely too weak to defend herself.
Pressing the tightly folded bundle of fabric against the deep wound in her chest, Caelian met the torturous blue of the dragon’s eyes.
Astrylys blinked, the rough silver skin around her intimidating gaze crinkling, and when her eyes opened, they were filled with maternal devastation.
She glanced at the nest, then slowly found Caelian once more. Imploring.
Of course.
Of course.
Astrylys wanted Caelian to save her babies.
“Okay,” she whispered, nodding in understanding. “Okay.”
Caelian scrubbed her hands against the remains of her ruined gown. She rubbed her lips together, grabbed the first gnarled vine, and pulled.
Thorns splintered against the rope-like plant, slicing her palms and fingers, so pinpricks of scarlet bloomed from her skin.
But she refused to let the stabbing pain deter her, not when the lives of three baby dragons and their mother were at stake.
She snapped the violent vines in half, ripping them from the eggs, and tossed them aside.
Whenever she managed to free one egg from the bramble, more erupted from the ground.
Sweat beaded along her brow, and she swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, grimacing at the sight.
Blood coated her fingers, dirt collected beneath her nails, and her palms were littered with cuts and scrapes.
Caelian bit her lip to keep from sobbing, to keep from quitting.
She continued to tear at the dangerous overgrowth, fighting her way further into the nest to reach the eggs.
She grasped one with both hands and yanked hard, pitching herself backward.
Thorns ravaged her, puncturing her waist, and a guttural scream pealed from some cavernous part of her soul.
I wish to free them, she pleaded with the stars. I wish to save them, please.
But the magic humming through her veins did not answer.
“I wish for this vile magic to cease!” she screamed, begging the heavens. Her body was trembling now, bleeding and broken. “Please! Please let me help them!”
She sucked in a gasping breath of pungent air.
“I beg of you!” Tears spilled down her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in agony. “Please return my magic to me so I can save them!”
The stars ignored her broken sobs.
Caelian stole a hasty glance over her shoulder and ice flooded her veins.
Astrylys lay on the ground, her eyes closed, and the wad of fabric from the gown was completely soaked with blood.
Wave after wave of panic slammed into Caelian, making it nearly impossible to focus.
Dizzying nausea swept through her, and she staggered forward, throwing her body protectively over the silver egg, the only one she had managed to free.
She couldn’t save them all. Not the eggs and the dragon. Not by herself.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Caelian focused the dwindling remains of her energy into the singular bond she shared with one other soul.
Her twin.
Creslyn.
She repeated her sister’s name over and over again in her mind. Envisioned her. Imagined her. With every passing second, she hoped Creslyn would hear her call, prayed the stars would finally listen, would finally answer, and send someone to help her.
As the world around her began to fade into nothingness and her vision blurred into a sea of black, in the far-off distance, someone yelled Caelian’s name.
But it was not Creslyn who came to her rescue.
It was Kjeld.