Chapter Thirty-Four
Vil
Cruce was waiting for me, standing in the open pit we’d cleared of rubble while the Rift glittered silver in the sunlight.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I approached.
“What does it look like?” he snapped. “I’m going with you.”
“No, you aren’t,” I said firmly.
Cruce clenched his jaw. “Those fuckers blew up the house with me in it, Vil. I’m going to give them their due. I will not take that lying down.”
I clamped him on the shoulders, staring right into his eyes. “This time, I’m going to need you to let me handle it, my friend. Your anger is valid and justified. But I must do this on my own. I can’t let anyone else get dragged into it.”
“I’m already dragged into it!” he protested.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But not this time.”
Cruce glared at me, but the anger wasn’t directed my way.
“Why not?”
“For one, I need you to stay here and make sure none of them sneak away and come after Vanessa. But also, I’m not going for the frontal assault. Not this time. I intend to sneak my way in.”
“Assassination,” Cruce said bitterly.
“Yes,” I told him, knowing he wouldn’t approve of it. I didn’t like it either, but those were the choices a prince had to make from time to time. And it was a choice I would make. I would not put the cold-blooded murder of our kin on his hands. I would shoulder that burden.
Cruce grimaced and turned away, his way of admitting he would stay. “Don’t fuck this up.”
I laughed. “Thanks for the support, Cruce. Appreciate it.”
He walked to the edge of the Rift, staring up at the metal arc. “I’m serious. I don’t want to have to go finish what you started.”
“Always looking out for everyone else,” I said, holding out a fist.
He bumped it, and I walked through the Rift into the cavern deep under Mount Drakonus. The piles of rubble were still strewn about. We would deal with that later once things were calm.
I shifted into my dragon form, all but groaning with relief as I spread my wings wide and stretched fully. There was nothing quite as relieving as taking to the air and soaring high, and that time around, I made sure to appreciate it a little extra.
The trip across the lands of the Iron Clan passed quickly. My wings constantly beat, never slowing or allowing myself to soar peacefully through the skies. All my focus was on the approaching ridge, behind which the Iron Fortress would soon be in sight.
Before I reached the ridge, I dove for the ground, angling sharply between two outcroppings of rock.
The hidden hole swallowed me up and spat me out into a giant underground cavern several seconds later.
Rivers of magma slowly wound their way past. I swooped low over the superheated sludge and came in for a landing on a small ledge against one wall.
I shrank back to human size and slipped through a crack in the wall, moving quickly.
While I hoped I’d managed to approach unrecognized, I didn’t want to take any chances.
There was virtually no hope of having been unseen, given I had flown, but identifying an individual dragon from height was surprisingly difficult, which was why I’d dived for the ground so fast, to make it difficult for them to realize it was me.
The less time the Nine had to react to any threat, the better.
My feet pounded against the rocky, uneven footing as I raced through the twisty, windy corridor.
Sometimes I had to get down on all fours or even crawl outright, while other times, the rock narrowed so far I slid along sideways.
In one particularly tight spot, I was forced to exhale all the air in my chest to fit through, and still, the rock scraped.
The secret passage was purposefully difficult to fit through to reduce the chances of anyone else finding it or knowing about it.
I could have landed in the middle of the courtyard of the Iron Fortress, but even for me, taking on six members of the Nine at once, including Adamantine, was a bit suicidal.
I’d promised my mate I would return to her, and I intended to keep my word.
Eventually, the passage ended behind a fake slab of rock in the back of the closet in the royal chambers. My chambers. I carefully hid signs of my entry, then crept out into the warren of hallways below the surface of the fortress. The goal was to move swiftly, quietly, and as unseen as possible.
I reached my first target, the nearest quarters of one member of the Nine. I knocked briskly but lightly, trying to simulate someone other than myself at the door.
“Who is it?” came a muffled voice.
I pitched my voice high and mumbled something unintelligible, trying to imitate a female dragon. It was a horrible job. But they weren’t expecting an attack from me, so it worked. The lock slid undone, and the door started to pull inward.
My shoulder hit the door, crunching it back into Forge’s nose.
He cried out and stumbled backward. I was already through the door and followed up with a sucker punch to his balls before I drove upward with my shoulder, catching him under his jaw as he started to double over.
Teeth shattered, and his jawbone gave way as he was tossed upward and back.
“Traitorous piece of shit,” I snarled, staring over him as he writhed in pain on the ground. “This is far better than you deserve.”
I drove a booted foot hard into his face. Bone gave way. I stomped on him a second time, and he went still.
Coldly, I wiped my boot on the carpet and strode out of Forge’s quarters, pulling the door closed behind me. The longer I gave myself to work without anyone noticing something was up, the better.
I crept along the hallway, listening for the sounds of anyone moving. I didn’t want to be seen by anyone, either loyal to me or not. No matter what, it would cause trouble.
Unfortunately, the fortress was a big place, and I heard the sound of boots scuffling on the carpet too late. I spun just in time to see Mol stop at an intersection, staring in surprise as he recognized me.
“Ah, Mol!” I said, striding toward him. “Just the man I wanted to talk to.”
Mol backed up and ran.
“Coward,” I growled, giving chase.
The idiot went into the depths of the fortress, making it abundantly clear he was heading for the lava pits, where I’d first confronted the Nine and told them about my decision to go to Earth and find Vanessa.
Some of the others must have been down there.
I didn’t want to confront too many at once, but if Mol were allowed to raise the alarm, I would be in even deeper trouble.
I poured on the speed, desperate to catch up.
Mol’s footstep grew louder as I slowly gained ground, taking each corner faster, my legs accelerating in the straightaways. It didn’t take long until I was right behind him.
I called iron to me as I ran, forming it into a solid, curved length, perhaps two feet long.
On the next straightaway, I flung it at Mol’s legs. The metal knocked him off stride, and he bounced and rolled. I was on top of him instantly, both of us snarling and throwing blows left and right, trying to gain the upper hand.
I won. I landed a knee to his gut, driving the air from his lungs in a mighty whuff. Then I picked him up and hurled him down the corridor by his ankle. His head bounced off the floor, and he spun, hitting the wall repeatedly until he stopped in a heap at the end of the corridor.
“Shit,” I muttered as he crawled through the doors at the end of it into the lava pit.
Walking forward, my sword came to hand. By the time I was through the doors, Mol was on his feet, bleating for help to anyone who would listen. I snarled and drove my sword through his back and out his chest, impaling him on the blade. I struck so hard Mol’s feet left the ground.
With a savage grunt, I flung his body free of my sword. It bounced, hit the edge of the ledge, and toppled over the side and down the rock slope until one of the slow-moving lava rivers swallowed it.
“Ah, Anvil,” a cool voice said from above me and off to my right. “What fortuitous timing. I was just giving your description to these men. Having you here will make this all the easier.”
I glanced over to see Adamantine standing on a much larger ledge. A dozen others were arrayed with him, only a few of whom I recognized.
Uh-oh, I thought, one particular giant with a head of bright blond hair sticking out.
That was Ellikson. Head of the Flying Reavers.
A mercenary company of dragons who sold their services to whatever prince or minor lordling would pay.
They were most often seen in border disputes between various dragon clans.
And if Adamantine was giving my description to them …
Ellikson lifted his hand and pointed, and his men started running for the lip of their ledge, wings sprouting from their backs. Fire and lightning gathered in the palms of some, while others wielded swords just like mine. The Reavers drew on dragons from all clans.
Some of the Reavers angled toward the exits down the maze of hallways, aiming to either cut me off or give chase, while others headed straight at me to move in for the kill. Whether I turned and ran or stayed and fought, they would have me dead.
So I did neither. I booked it as fast as I could forward out onto my ledge. My wings sprouted from my back, and I leaped into the air, diving to gather speed before spreading my wings and beating them as hard and fast as I could, heading for the far side of the open cavern.
Shouts of surprise followed me as the Reavers were forced to adjust course and play catch-up.
I reached the other side of the cavern and ducked into a tunnel.
It was no secret to the dragons of the Iron Clan, at least, but I banked on the Reavers not knowing about it.
I ran along the tunnel since it was too small to fly through, my feet pounding up the sharp inline as I headed for the surface.
A ball of fire slammed into my back, engulfing me.
I roared in pain but regained my balance and kept running.
Light flashed on the rock walls, and I went flat as another fireball flashed past, exploding harmlessly up ahead.
Lightning struck me next, lifting all my hairs as it played havoc with my nerves, turning me into a hobbling jittery mess.
The fire and storm dragons could strike from a distance, which was annoying.
Turning, I flung two balls of molten iron at them. It was tiring to conjure the heavy balls and throw them, but the screams at the unexpected attack more than made up for it, giving me fresh energy to run onward.
I was shifting the second I hit the surface, winging it high into the sky as fast as I could.
Winds buffeted me as at least one Reaver storm dragon emerged, using their powers to try to disrupt my flight, but I bulldozed my way through, even as they took to the air after me.
A lightning strike sizzled past just as I banked, having felt the telltale buzz under my scales that something was coming. A fireball splashed against my hind legs, burning scales free until the blackened remains fell from the sky. A cone of fire narrowly missed, singeing me.
The running air battle continued all the way to Mount Drakonus. I should have outdistanced my pursuers, but their attacks had weakened me enough that they would draw within striking range every so often.
I plunged through the giant hole in the side of the mountain, aiming for the Rift. I had no idea what to do once I crossed over, but I knew I had to try. My energy was fading, and I was hurt.
A blast of lightning entered my hind leg, and my entire body went limp.
One moment, I was in a controlled dive down through the tunnel, and the next, I was falling from the sky with no control over my muscles, air whistling past.
This is not good. Come on, wings. Work.
I tried to shake myself back to functionality, but the mental command only produced very limited movements as my neural pathways reset themselves. Below, the cavern floor drew nearer by the second.
Come on.
Again my body only moved a little, nothing responding properly.
Come on!
A bit more that time.
The ground was dangerously close. The Rift was now visible, and my scales were getting warm from the rate of descent.
“Come on!” I shouted.
My wings snapped open, and I angled away from the cavern floor as hard as I could.
Muscles screamed in protest and quite probably tore.
A blast of fire struck the ground in front of me, and I flew through it just as lightning impaled one of my wings.
I dropped, my stomach scraping across the floor, peeling scales off. That was how fast I was moving.
Using the last of my energy, I flung a bit of iron at the Rift, making sure it linked to my power to ensure I went to the correct estate on Earth. Then I bounced again, shrinking as the Rift swallowed me up and spat me out the other side in my human form.
I came to a stop against the far wall with a sudden, jarring impact, hard enough to make me see double. The wavering image of the man who stepped through next, carrying fire in his hands, was enough to know my doom had been sealed. The Reavers would fulfill their contract with ease.
Until another figure loomed up from the side with impossible silence and decapitated them in one fell swoop. They spun to face the Rift, and as the next person came through, they only had enough time to cough and start to lift their hands before the sword pierced their heart.
Cruce kicked the body back through the Rift, resetting himself as the next Reaver entered unsuspectingly, only to be sent back through with one leg remaining.
No more Reavers came through after that. Cruce snorted and tossed the head of the first body through the Rift as a warning to those on the other side.
Then he came to me, his sword still in hand.
“See,” I coughed. “I told you I had a reason for leaving you behind.”
Cruce rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m a good friend. Now, shut up. I need to get you out of here.”
I didn’t complain as he picked me up from the floor without ceremony.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked weakly, near the edge of unconsciousness.
“To see someone you’ll listen to while you heal since I obviously can’t talk sense into you.”
Uh-oh.