Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SOFIA
Sofia was breathing through her nose, trying to keep her heart from bursting through her chest and the rage from exploding out of her.
She felt powerless—hopeless. Chalia’s own helplessness radiated from her in waves.
This wasn’t supposed to be how this went.
They needed to understand. They needed to fight for themselves, at the very least. But Sofia was left, standing with the snow seeping through her pants, watching Chalia’s mother turn away.
“And Chalia,” Aurelia said, voice as cold as the mountain wind. “You will return once you drop them off with their people. Then we will have a discussion about your behavior.”
Chalia and Sofia both stiffened in unison, the dragon’s wings laying back tight against her body.
“Mother, please,” Chalia said.
“This is not up for discussion. You have put your people in danger with your childishness.”
“I’ve seen what the king’s people are doing. You’re the one not listening.”
“I will not be reprimanded by humans and a child who refused to listen when she was given a direct order.” She twisted around and looked at the small dragon that had been tussling with Chalia earlier. “Jobin, you take the humans back to their camp. Chalia will stay here.”
Sofia felt the absence already, imagining what it would be like to leave Chalia behind. Her breath caught in her chest.
No.
She stepped toward Chalia. She wouldn’t leave her behind.
Chalia’s eyes found hers, and she saw her thoughts reflected back at her. A blast of icy air hit Sofia in the chest, throwing her back and away from her dragon.
Before Chalia could move to follow, her mother sent a wave of ice to engulf her claws, freezing her where she stood. Betrayal twisted through her—Chalia’s own emotions flying from her in waves.
Aurelia’s wings were spread wide as she opened her jaw and sent another chilled gale in their direction. Sofia’s feet slid across the ice, pushing her farther and farther from Chalia. Something pulled within her chest. She felt torn in two.
“No!” she screamed, her words lost on the wind. The snow froze against her legs as she stomped down hard, sinking her feet into it, trying to stop herself from skidding farther. She bent forward, taking the wind head-on, arms outstretched as if she might stop it.
An unfamiliar power hummed through her blood, and she could have sworn the wind faltered for just an instant.
“Mother, please,” Chalia begged, feathers ruffling and neck stretching long.
But Sofia could feel it—Chalia was going to give in.
She felt the hopelessness settling over her, the sense of being too small and insignificant.
Sofia’s own chest ached, and she breathed in, trying not to suffocate under the pressure.
“Stop!” Sofia said, eyes burning with tears.
No no no.
Chalia was struggling, trying to break away from the ice holding her, but Sofia could feel her strength giving out.
Never enough. She couldn’t do anything. She wasn’t enough to fix this.
Sofia could no longer tell the difference between her thoughts and Chalia’s. And then Fox was there, wrapping his arms around her, and she realized she’d collapsed onto her knees. Her face was wet, her tears freezing to her skin.
Chalia met her eyes, and Sofia felt a rush of coolness through her. Resolve.
“No!” Chalia’s roar was so loud in her head that Sofia swore she heard it echoing in the still mountain air. The wind pushing them back ceased, and Sofia lifted her head to see that the air had shifted. It was swirling in an icy blizzard directly toward Chalia’s mother.
The enormous dragon fell back.
“How dare you!” Aurelia yelled, letting out a roar that crackled in the air. “For worthless humans.”
“They are not worthless,” Chalia said, a talon slamming into the ground as ice shards exploded from where she stood, throwing back the rest of the dragons gathered around. The sky cracked and shone bright for only an instant, and then it was gone.
Silence fell.
Sofia held her breath as Chalia’s mother slowly stood, her claws biting into the snow so deep they dug into mud.
The dragon was looking between her and Chalia, eyes narrowed into slits that spoke of her rage.
But Chalia didn’t stand down, her neck straight and wings flared out wide.
Sofia stood, legs shaky but determined. She wouldn’t let Chalia stand alone.
“You choose them? Over your own kind?”
“It’s not about choosing between you and them,” Chalia said. “It’s about choosing to do what I know is right. I’ve looked up to you for fifteen decades, but this time you’re wrong.”
“Go, then,” Aurelia said, her voice turning from passionate to complacent in the blink of an eye. “But do not return. You are no longer welcome at Quelia’s Rest.”
Chalia didn’t move for a moment, and Sofia felt the breaking—the pain and hurt that echoed from her mother’s words. She let out a snort of affirmation before turning away from her family.
Chalia’s father pawed at the ground in agitation, but he didn’t argue.
Even Micael was silent as he mounted Chalia, though Sofia saw the way his hand landed on her scales, a soft pat that said more than words.
And when they swept into the air, Sofia didn’t look back. If the dragon gods wouldn’t come to save them, then she’d have to come up with another plan. She wouldn’t let the chief commander win. She wouldn’t let Chalia down.
They were silent on the flight back. Sofia was too aware of Fox behind her, in every shift of his body.
She knew he wanted to grab her—to hold her—but every time he got closer to her, she went rigid.
She couldn’t give in to his comfort, not now.
She needed to think. They needed a plan.
She wouldn’t let this be the end. General Luna wouldn’t get to the dragons, even if she had to fight the army herself.
“And me,” Chalia said, a growl in her voice even as she smoothly landed in the snow just outside the cave.
The rest of their group came out of the cave opening, eyes wide and hopeful.
They should have been gone longer, but their group still gazed at them as if they expected good news.
Sofia felt sick to her stomach as she slipped from Chalia’s back and strode into the cave.
She kept her eyes down, unable to stand the light leaving their eyes as Micael killed their hope with his words.
She walked through the main cave, retreating into the tunnel she and Fox had found, following the dim light and heat from the springs.
Fox was on her heels, not speaking and not trying to grab her, but keeping close. She didn’t stop until she was in the glowing cavern.
She faced the wall, watching the way the light danced in the room’s steam, focusing only on breathing. Her blood was on fire, heat radiating through her body. Anger. Shame. Regret. Anguish. Emotions she didn’t have names for as her heart raced and her skin burned.
“Sofia,” Fox said, voice a cool whisper against her flushed skin.
“How?” her voice cracked. Her throat was raw, as if the screams she had swallowed down had still torn her apart. “How could they not listen? How could they ignore what’s coming?”
Fox’s hand was icy against her skin. He didn’t pull her into him, simply pressing his callused fingers against her arm. Perhaps it was because he didn’t push for it, but she collapsed back into him, letting his arms pull her closer, taking just a bit of her weight.
“When you think you’re the strongest thing around,” Fox said, “it’s hard to see the threats when they come.”
“They were our protectors—sent by Quelia to oversee the realm.”
Fox didn’t speak for a while, his thumb rubbing along her upper arms. “It’s our fault. We massacred them. People who looked like you and me both. We killed them for being powerful, and for them that’s not a history lesson. It’s their memories. Their stories.”
“I know that,” Sofia said. “But General Luna and Harlow don’t care. They’re going to find them no matter what. And they’ll finish what the old kings started.”
The sound of footsteps echoing through the tunnel behind them had Fox turning. Sofia expected to see Javi walk out of the tunnel, but it was Micael, looking worn and pale-faced.
He stopped short when he entered the cavern, his eyes going wide to see the lake and the glowing crystals.
“I’ll have to tell the others this is here,” he said. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
“Sorry,” Sofia said, automatically. “I completely forgot with everything going on.”
Micael nodded, looking between Fox and her. Sofia took a step away from Fox, uncomfortable with the gaze, but Micael’s frown only deepened. “We need to come up with a new plan. We can’t stay tucked in here forever.”
“The army will be moving slowly,” Fox said. “They might have even stopped by now to wait for next steps from Harlow.”
“They won’t wait forever.”
“We can’t attack head-on,” he said. “We’re outnumbered and out-trained.”
Sofia watched them debate options. In another world, she might have been happy to see Micael finally treating Fox as an ally. He was seeing what Sofia had seen in Fox. But she only felt emptiness.
“We won’t win in a straight attack,” she said. “But we can’t let Luna continue on with Eha’s son leading the way. We need to get him away from them.”
“We already discussed that option,” Fox said, tone flat. “It’s a suicide mission. It won’t work.”
“You’re right,” she said slowly. “And you’re wrong. It may be a suicide mission, but it might also work.”
Fox had turned to her, his gaze dark and lips pressed tightly. “Sofia—”
“I have Chalia,” she said before he could say more. “If I can take them by surprise, it might work. I’m not trying to take on the army. I only need to free the dragon.”
“You are not doing that,” Fox said. His fists clenched at his sides, the muscle in his jaw twitching, but he held himself still. Sofia looked away, unable to see the anger and pain radiating from him.
“It’s as good a plan as any we have,” she said directly to Micael now.
The man had never been one for sentiment, and he was thinking, his face unreadable.
“If I can hamper the army, the rest of you can head back to the city and continue the fight from there.” She swallowed.
“Chalia and I can meet you if we make it.”
Fox made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a whine, and Sofia had to keep her eyes fixed on Micael to not see his expression.
“This is our only chance,” Sofia pleaded. “The dragons aren’t coming to save us, but we can still save them.”
“Then we do it together,” Fox said. “We go together to the army.”
“No,” Sofia said, allowing herself to look at him, hating herself for it immediately when she saw the anguish in his eyes.
“More bodies won’t do any good if I’m just trying to attack and free the dragon.
It just puts more people at risk. The resistance needs you—all of you.
The city needs you to go back and continue the fight. ”
“She’s right,” Micael said, voice softer than Sofia had ever heard it. “We can’t afford to lose more than one fighter.”
“Let me take Chalia then,” Fox said.
Sofia felt sick at the thought. Not just the thought of losing Fox but—
“I don’t think Chalia and I can separate like that,” Sofia said, articulating something she hadn’t even had time to dwell on since the nesting grounds. “Whatever bond exists between us, I don’t think I can handle leaving her behind while I go to the city. It has to be me.”
Micael exhaled. “We need to talk details and come up with a strategy, but I can’t make this decision for you. I would never ask this of anyone. But if you do so willingly…”
“I know. This is my decision.”
In a move so unlike Micael, he stepped forward and pulled Sofia into an embrace, his body cold despite the warm cavern.
“I won’t tell the others until you’ve decided,” he said.
Sofia and Fox watched as he left the way he’d come, the smallest limp in his steps.
They stood in silence, Sofia unable to look Fox in the eyes. She felt Chalia’s own unease at the other end of the tether, the dragon well aware of what she was planning.
At last, Fox spoke. “I’m not going to let you go on a suicide mission.” His voice was hard as flint.
Sofia stiffened. “You don’t have to let me do anything. That’s not your choice.”
“You’re right,” he said, his voice softening. She’d won, but her body didn’t relax. He was still looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl. “But you can’t force me to stay and watch you die.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, the room suddenly cold around her, despite the heat of the springs. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.
It was fine. He was only a distraction from what she needed to do anyway.
She’d always known dying was a possibility in her quest for vengeance. She was angry that she wouldn’t live to see Harlow dead, but if she could stop him from getting to the dragons, it would be worth it.
Without Fox there to prop her up, her knees collapsed, and she fell to the damp cave floor. And for just a few minutes, she let herself cry.