Chapter 4
Four
Morgan
Long term, the cave provides a less than ideal solution. The stony walls press in close and amplify the sound of too many voices murmuring in worry and dissent. Some children are hushed by their parents but for how long?
Eventually, their cries will draw predators better than wounded prey.
Short term, however, the cave is hidden in the crevices of a small rock formation and fits our people inside with a modicum of comfort.
Not that one would know from the high level of complaints.
It also provides the perfect vantage point to watch the battle below.
I draw a finger over my lips at Emory, whose cheerful babble grows each time she finds another person willing to talk to her. As though we’re not in the middle of a frantic escape from the only home we’ve ever known.
“Play a new game,” I warn her. “One where you attempt to be quiet as long as possible. Can you do that for me?”
I lift my eyes from her, slow to focus on the field below us, stretching out until it reaches a far border of more trees.
My entire body tenses as I scan. I latch onto Mother at the center of a triangulated point of her best warriors. They’re making slow headway, herding the basilisk in the opposite direction. Her armor marks her as the leader of this fray but also as the brightest target for the enemy.
The dragons stay hidden overhead, their wings stirring clouds that weren’t there an hour ago. The cloudless sky suddenly fogs over and in the glinting shadows comes the outline of wings.
“Never in my life have I seen something like this.” Lanai sticks to my side like a fresh weld. “Never before has the monarchy been more concerned with attacking its citizens instead of protecting them.”
“It’s a new age,” I murmur.
I’ve rounded up the elderly, children, and farmers who can’t fight. We wouldn’t have made a difference anyway, if we’d been allowed to fight, although the thought gives me no comfort.
“A new age,” Lanai repeats before clearing her throat wetly. “It’s dragon dung, if you ask me.”
My gaze skitters across the outline of wings before the clouds part and something black shoots down to earth like a fallen star. I catch my breath.
The dragon opens its wings fully to slow its descent, and the black tail whips left and right, stirring the air.
Lanai doesn’t seem to notice, as she tells me in no uncertain terms how she doesn’t appreciate being manhandled the way I have with her.
“If you had half the grace of your mother, we might have an easier time,” she adds decisively.
My words clog at the base of my spine and rise no higher. I can’t force them out of my throat, can’t make my jaw work or my tongue settle. Not when fear turns the inside of my mouth to acid, the same as the blood in my veins.
Without blinking, I watch the black dragon soar above the field, and its rider meets our advancing line with a clash of steel.
He drives his sword into my people, the dragon focused, aiming. The lizard’s head rears back and the rider, dressed in matching ebony leathers, shouts out a warning to anyone unlucky enough to have the tip of his sword pointing in their direction.
“Come.” Lanai takes my hand in hers. “Come away from the edge. There’s no sense watching.”
But there’s also no looking away. I let her tug me, but my legs have grown roots of their own, seeking the base of the mountain to hold me in place. The screaming marks my insides.
“What do you think you’re going to do? Do you think it will make a difference in the outcome, how closely you watch?” Lanai continues. “Come away.”
My hands are shaking where she grips me, and her voice is the perfect incendiary for the fire of my temper. “I’m staying here.”
The dragon flicks his tail and cuts through the now smoky air as unicorns dart past them.
“There’s no sense in looking, child.”
Lanai sounds fearful now, and my stomach takes a deep dive. The warrior in black meets two of my people and cuts through them, their bodies dropping. Dead. He leaves a trail of blood behind him as he leaps down from his dragon and runs into the fray.
“They’re all going to die.”
Lanai sucks in a breath at my whisper. But when she speaks, her voice is louder than before.
“No. No, they’re not.” The lie slithers out of her mouth.
We can’t win without a miracle, and the knowledge settles in my bones as Lanai gives another plaintive tug on my hand. She forces my attention to her, and it costs me more than I want to admit to break my focus on the field.
“What?”
She widens her eyes at the needle sharpness of that word.
“If the rest of us are suffering through this cavern, then it’s only right for you to join us.” She’s sour on purpose.
I realize it even as my frustration grows.
“It may be cramped but it’s the best I can do,” I reply with a sniff.
“Seems to me like there should have been a better plan in place. If your mother wanted to have you accomplish this task for her—”
“We’re safe, aren’t we?”
Lanai has gotten my nose out of joint, and I scrub it now like the motion will actually help the pounding in my head.
She tugs on the back of my tunic now with her opposite hand. “And what about supplies? Eh? How do you intend to keep the thirsty hydrated and the hungry sated?”
“I’m hopeful we won’t remain here long enough to need any supplies.” The words hiss through gritted teeth. “This is temporary.”
“How long?”
Her senses are keen even with the dulling of age. She wants me distracted, focusing on the children crying and the people shifting restlessly with their questions.
“I don’t have an answer for you.” Our eyes catch, and I gently pry her fingers free, stifling the desire to strangle her. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you sit? Rest?”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Lanai maintains, resolutely.
I watch her, wiping the expression from my face, then wince when a whiny cry breaks into a high-pitched squeal. The sound pierces my eardrum and effortlessly cuts through the low chatter of complaints.
A toddler rocks forwards on his heels, his arms wide, eyes glassy when he pushes away from the wall. Crawling closer to me. Crying for his mother.
Ah, Ether take me.
My mind has been pulled in too many directions. I should be watching the children whose parents are out there fighting, not going head-to-head in a verbal sparring match with Fallkirk’s most ornery old woman.
Chastised by the reminder, I bend to take the child in my arms. The toddler would rather be anywhere but here and reacts with a kick to my kidney.
“You’re terrible at this,” Lanai says.
But my anger at her is spent. Not in general, not even diminished by a drop. But it’s useless to focus it on Lanai.
I dare a glance down at the curve-backed crone to find her watching me. “Please, join the others. They’ll listen to you. Tell them… anything.”
The toddler hiccups in my arms, squirming, but Lanai turns on her foot and shuffles back to the waiting presence of the two men who helped her up the mountainside.
I stifle a groan.
Adjusting the boy on my hip, I smooth the stuck pieces of hair away from his rectangular face. Tears have dried on the child’s cheeks and fresh ones carve trails down to his chin.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him in my fakest and most soothing voice. “Don’t you worry. We’ll get you back with your momma in no time. Won’t we? She’ll be so happy to see you.”
The child refuses to smile. I don’t blame him.
If I were in his position, I’d want to bawl my eyes out as well.
Who am I kidding? I am absolutely in his position.
I bounce the toddler on my hip and return my attention below.
The dark warrior has managed to hold his ground even without the help of his beast. They are shadow made flesh, moving with smooth and terrible precision.
Elspeth stands her ground, and my mother fights valiantly.
Then again, so does the enemy. They are ruthless and the arrival of the dragons almost seems to herald the beginning of the end.
Those kinds of thoughts will take me nowhere. Lanai, sensing my change of mood, scoffs low in her chest.
“Who wants to be out there in that mess anyway?” she asks with a huff, just loud enough to be overheard.
I swear, if she incites more objection among the people, I won’t hesitate to boot her right down the hill and watch her stumble with the rest of the loose gravel.
My temper is already wild and unpredictable, and my tether of control is thin.
The toddler refuses to quiet as he grabs a piece of my braid and gives a violent tug to show me, with pain, his displeasure.
“It’s going to be fine, little one.” There’s no way for me to free my hair.
I tamp down the pain and grin at him. “You’re very strong, aren’t you? You’re going to be a fine warrior one day.”
His eyes pool with tears, and his lower lip trembles.
Resigned, plagued with a headache and weighed down by the cursed necklace, I can’t look away from the field. So far, none of the other dragons have joined the battle. They stay perched in the air above, watching.
What are they waiting for?
Is their presence merely strategy? As though our people will cower from the mere glimpse of their scaly bellies?
I scoff out loud just like Lanai.
They’ll find we’re no cowards if we haven’t proven ourselves already.
The enemy is dancing, driving our herd toward the edge of the field where they will be forced to either retreat into the safety of the valley below or meet their doom against the edge of the mountains.
My attention latches on that single fighter in black. He hasn’t hesitated since his arrival, and he’s somehow managed to cut his way into the thick of things. Unlike the rest of his brothers in arms.
I track him the way I’d track a wolf circling the herd. If I lose him in the chaos, the next place I’ll find him is by the bodies. A cold prickle starts at the rear of my skull and spreads, a warning with no words in it.
His twin blades catch the watery sunlight as he cuts down the people I care about and the ones I grew up with. A fierce hatred bubbles up from the depths of my being at this unstoppable and fearless warrior.