Chapter 13 #3
A nagging voice whispered in my ear, drawing my attention to all the details that didn’t quite add up, but I could barely focus over the roar of the flames and the rush of wind from the dragon’s wings.
Couldn’t hear my doubts clearly over the silent scream of my terror that Callum might be too far gone.
That we might have to hurt him before he hurt anyone else.
We’d been lucky so far. Nothing was broken beyond repair, except perhaps the humans’ ability to trust their Idrian neighbors. There would be so many videos. So many eyewitness accounts of the attack. And so many who would have heard that cry, identifying exactly who…
“Callum, you have to stop!”
There it was again. A woman’s voice. She still sounded terrified, but this time, I heard her more clearly, and a faint glimmer of recognition kicked me in the gut.
That voice didn’t belong here.
But I couldn’t remember why, so after one last glance at the dragon, I finally forced myself to move.
Abandoning the shelter of the bridge, I raced down the sidewalk, yanking water from the air, from the gutters, from anywhere I could reach.
There wasn’t much, but it was enough to douse the edges of the flames so that I could pass without being singed.
I could see The Portal up ahead. Its unassuming brick facade looked just as it always had, thanks to the glamour anchored to the trees along the sidewalk.
It was late afternoon. There would be a handful of customers.
Faris would be in his office, unless he’d heard the commotion, and then he would be heading outside, ready to protect his territory.
Seamus, Marilee, Irene, Emberly… how many others were in there?
I was running full out, but every step seemed to take forever, as if I moved through jello. I looked up and back as the dragon turned its head. Looked my way. Traced my path…
I was going to win. I would not let this imposter destroy my people or my city.
Those massive wings shifted as the dragon twisted in mid-air—still hovering as it drew in a breath.
No, no, no…
I heard a distant scream from Kira, and a jet of white fire struck like a lightning bolt, splashing across the black dragon’s neck with a sound like sizzling steaks on a grill, burning through scales and muscles to leave a deep, smoking wound.
The black dragon screeched, and his tail whipped through the air, too quickly for Kira to dodge. The bronze dragon fell from the sky, landed in the street with a grunt, and lay still.
I had to help her. I had to warn everyone. But I was too slow, and now it was far, far too late. Despite his injuries, the black dragon let out a roar of anger, opened his fanged mouth, and breathed out a stream of fire that crackled and hissed through the air less than a hundred yards away…
To slam into the unprotected front of The Portal.
The shockwave threw me off my feet, but I barely felt it.
I was too busy screaming in denial. Crying out in terror as the front wall of The Portal crumbled, the glass melted, and the wooden frame blazed up.
No.
I had to do something. Put out the flames. But there wasn’t enough water. Wasn’t anything I could do.
“What do you need?” The strangely calm voice penetrated my panic, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Ethan, still looking cool and unaffected, his hand clutching Logan’s as he tugged the younger boy behind him. Logan could only stumble in his wake, his face blank and white with shock.
“Water,” I managed to say. “But I don’t know how…”
A cry erupted from Logan’s throat—of rage, of fury, of fear—and his magic nearly exploded in answer. His clenched fist punched outward, and the concrete buckled, toppling a nearby fire hydrant right off its base and spewing a jet of water into the air over our heads.
I reached for the water. Saw Kira wobble to her feet, shaking her head. She was okay.
But the dragon still hovered. Preparing for another shot. I needed it distracted while I put out the flames, but who else could help us?
“I’ve got this,” Kira called, but she didn’t take flight.
Didn’t spread her wings or breathe fire.
Instead, she seemed to focus intently, and a moment later, the black dragon faltered in the air.
Slipped towards the earth. Only for an instant, but for the space of a breath, it was as if it had forgotten how to fly.
Kira snarled, and this time as she focused I heard her mutter a single word aloud: “Stop.”
It faltered again.
But for a second time, it shook her off too quickly. I could tell it was struggling to maintain altitude, but somehow remained aloft. Still dangerous, but turning now to focus on Kira as the main threat.
She could do this. I had to believe it. She’d told me her scales were nearly impervious to damage, so the moment the black dragon was distracted, I raced for The Portal, pulling a seething mass of water behind me.
The rubble was almost too hot to approach, so I stopped and focused on the brilliant colors of my water magic surging and flowing around me.
The flood rose to my knees, and instead of tugging gently or coaxing it along, I pulled it up in a wave and threw it forward, inundating the flames with an unstoppable wall of water.
I heard a hiss and was instantly enveloped in a cloud of steam, so I shut my eyes and pushed for more. More. More. There was so much water, and I could feel it sapping my energy, but I kept going. I had to make sure the flames were out. That no one would be hurt.
“Raine, stop.”
When I finally opened my eyes, I was kneeling on the sidewalk. I had no idea how long I’d been there.
Before me was a steaming pile of jumbled bricks, broken glass, and shattered timber. The interior of The Portal was clearly visible just beyond—tables and chairs charred black, the floorboards scorched through, now dripping with water.
The flames were gone, but in the short time they burned, they’d done so much damage.
The shelves that only yesterday had been filled with glimmering bottles of fae liquor were shattered and empty.
The kitchen door hung sideways, half off its hinges, and the windows of the upstairs offices had completely blown out.
And worst of all, the bar itself—that gleaming walnut surface with fifty years of polish and worn spots and memories—was cracked down the middle, a huge, ugly scar that ran from top to bottom.
It was like seeing a part of my soul cracked open and trampled on. And it hurt—even more than that slash from a fae blade—to see this place that had meant so much to me lying in ruins.
But far more than the place, it was the people that mattered, so I pushed to my feet, staggering a little as I scanned the rubble, frantic for any signs of life.
“Raine, it’s over.”
But the dragon…
“The dragon is gone.”
That wasn’t Logan’s or Kira’s voice. So who was talking?
A hand fell heavily on my shoulder, and I looked up.
Tairen-li-Corva stood beside me. Her face was gray and drawn, her eyes haunted, but her grip on my shoulder was firm.
“It wasn’t him,” I blurted out. “It wasn’t Callum.”
Her eyes closed. “I know.”
“Then… who was it?”
Her fingers clenched—so tightly that I knew they would leave bruises.
“That dragon was once my closest friend. My confidante. My shield and my most trusted seneschal.”
“It couldn’t be…”
“It was Morghaine,” she confirmed. “I would have known her anywhere.”
But that was impossible. Morghaine had been tortured by the fae. Her wings cut off. Her eyes blinded.
“How…”
Tairen’s eyes opened, and I nearly cowered away from her. Rage shimmered in her amber irises, alongside shock, pain, and other emotions probably too deep for words.
“They must have stolen her magic,” she muttered hoarsely. “I could never have imagined…”
The truth punched me like a fist to the gut.
Morghaine had also been Elayara’s prisoner.
She’d had her magic drained over and over again, and while most of that magic had been used to fuel Elayara’s plot to overthrow the Fae Court, at least some small part of it had been bound to a magical artifact, to be used by anyone who could learn its secrets.
That dragon? Not a dragon at all, but a human using stolen magic.
And yet, someone had clearly been trying to convince those watching or listening that it was Callum-ro-Deverin.
That the dragon who had just attacked humans and destroyed a building was actually the king of the shapeshifters—an enormous threat with unimaginable power behind him should he ever choose to go rogue.
Which meant that I knew exactly who was responsible.
There was no longer any need to guess who had sent the dragon here, or what they were trying to accomplish. Blake Masterson had finally shown his hand, and he’d hit us hard, in exactly the way that would hurt most.
And as for his goals?
He was trying to start a war. Not between courts, but between Idrians and humans, and his people had just fired the opening shot in Callum’s name.
Now all we could do was pick up the pieces, and find a way to respond before the humans decided we were too great a threat to ignore.