Phoenix Overture

11

“WHAT IS THAT?” I searched the sky, but there was nothing. Just moonlight and stars, faintly obscured by cook fires and smoke, as a moment before. “It sounded like thunder.”

My brother was pale, wide-eyed. “I don’t know.” We were still in the thick of the camp, where Meuric had been speaking minutes ago, but now everyone had returned to their duties and the Councilor was nowhere in sight.

As the strange thunder came again, a hush fell over the entire camp. The crackle of fires and susurrus of wind became the only sounds as everyone looked to the sky.

Movement caught my eye, near the immense tower that pierced the heavens. Something long and sinuous twisted through the air, and as thunder clapped again, a long stretch of darkness blacked out the stars.

Others followed my gaze, some pointing, some rooted to their places, as though fear had rendered them immobile.

If fear were sound, it’d be a low humming and the quick tempo of an accelerating heartbeat, punctuated by gasps. It’d be ringing. Deafening. Paralyzing.

More snakelike shapes slithered across the sky, wide wings making the sky black. A dozen of the flying creatures followed that first one, all of them in formation, like birds or . . . or an army.

The winged beasts dipped and adjusted their path through the air, flying straight toward our camp. Panic surged, contagious and violent as the plague: screams and shouts and trampling to reach the perceived safety of the wagons.

But as the beasts drew back their wings and dove, even I knew the wagons wouldn’t provide any safe form of shelter. The wagons would become tombs.

“Warriors! Protect the perimeter!” Meuric called, though the din of screams and feet pounding the ground swallowed the sound of his voice. No one paid him any heed. Many fled toward the forest.

While I had no doubts those enormous creatures could snatch people out of the woods, the trees would provide some coverage.

“Come on!” I grabbed the collar of Fayden’s jacket. “We have to make sure Stef and his aunts get to the forest, too.”

We ran, cutting between wagons and people, trying not to shove them aside, even as people jostled us to get wherever they were going.

At the edge of camp, horses stomped and whinnied, while cattle and other livestock scattered as the beasts dove.

I dodged and ducked as a sharp and horrible scent filled the air. As I glanced up, a dragon spat something brilliant green onto a wagon. People fled the structure, screaming as the wood began to dissolve from top to bottom. The odor of burning filled my nose as Fayden yanked my wrist and pulled me onward.

“What was that?” I shouted. But Fayden didn’t hear me, or couldn’t answer. In the wan light, his face was pale and etched with terror.

Ahead of us, the ground shuddered as one of the beasts dropped to four legs.

It was huge—the biggest creature I’d ever seen. Its fangs were as long as my forearm. The serpentine body stretched into the trees, and wings held just aloft were big enough to throw a shadow over the entire camp. A thick talon gouged a trench in the earth.

I scrambled to a stop, and stared. Giant eyes met mine, and there was a moment when it seemed to look through me. My heart beat double-time as I urged my legs to move, but my whole body felt heavier. I couldn’t do anything.

The beast’s head pulled back, and a faint, glowing green came from within its mouth. Its jaws opened wider, and that sharp, burning scent filled the space between us.

“Dossam, come on!” Fayden snatched my hair and dragged me away from the beast, just as the green stuff spilled across the earth, shining with an unearthly glow.

I staggered after my brother, head jerked at an awkward angle until he released my hair; bits still clung to his sweat-dampened fingers, and then floated toward the green stuff.

The strands sizzled and burned up.

It was acid.

The beasts spat acid.

Quickly, I was off and running behind Fayden, ducking and dodging as other people flailed.

Fayden was just ahead of me, his tall form rising above many of the others. Every so often, he glanced back to make sure I was following. I pushed myself faster to keep up as he raced toward the wagon we shared with Stef and his aunts.

Nothing looked familiar, though. We’d been here for only an hour before everything fell apart, and with the beasts, the panic, and the uncertain light, nothing looked remotely like it had earlier.

Immense wings blocked moonlight, but the world suddenly flickered bright. A fire bloomed toward the center of camp, and the screams crescendoed.

“Fayden! Sam!” Orrin waved to us from beside our wagon, which had fallen in and glowed eerie green on one corner. Bit by bit, the wood crumbled. The horses were gone. “Whit and Stef are trapped inside.”

I glanced at Fayden for orders.

“Check on them,” he said. “I’ll find help.”

Relieved to be told what to do, I surged forward, and with Orrin’s help, began lifting away pieces of wood.

“Careful of the green stuff,” I shouted over the crackle of flame and chaos.

She glanced up at the wagon being eaten away, and nodded.

“What are those things?” Splintering wood pierced my hands as I hurled debris out of the way.

“Dragons.” She jumped back as the wheels collapsed, and the wagon dropped all the way to the ground. Shouts came from within. “They’re dragons.”

Boards and debris that dripped acid jammed the door to the wagon, keeping it from fully opening. No matter how I pulled on the door, it refused to open more than a handspan. I couldn’t remove the debris, and there wasn’t time to wait for the acid to eat away the wood and loosen everything.

I peered into the dark wagon. “Stef! Can you push from inside?”

Whit’s face appeared in the gap instead. “Stef is hurt. His leg.”

I checked around, but Fayden wasn’t back, and the dragons were prowling around the edges of camp, huge and deadly guards.

This was up to me.

“Do you see my flute?” I glanced upward; the hole growing from the acid was larger now. Enough to let firelight shine in?

Whit scrambled around the wagon for a moment. “Yes, I found it.”

“Quickly, put it together. We’ll use it as a lever.”

The seconds seemed so long, and I could hear her grunts of frustration from within; she’d never put together my flute before. I should have had her pass it out to me.

But finally, the metal head joint appeared and I fumbled until I found a position with good leverage. “Orrin, help them out. I’ll hold this open.” I hoped.

Fayden still wasn’t back. He’d be better at this—he was stronger—but Stef was my best friend, and I couldn’t let him die because of my fear. Not after everything else that had happened.

I braced myself against the wagon and pulled on the flute, hard enough to widen the gap.

“More!” Orrin had her shoulders in, reaching for Stef or Whit, but the sisters were small; Stef needed more room to escape.

I rearranged my grip, one hand closing over a few keys. Metal pierced my palm, but the strain in my muscles hurt worse. My arms trembled as I forced the gap open wider. “Hurry.” But the word was just a huff of air, lost beneath the crackling blaze in the center of camp, and the thump of dragons landing. My vision went fluttery around the edges until I could only dimly see Orrin helping Stef through the hole.

He was taking forever. I couldn’t hold the gap open much longer, and soon the acid would eat away the rest of the wagon. They’d be crushed—or trapped again—if they didn’t hurry.

Another pair of hands closed around the flute, between mine. Fayden took the weight of leverage and grunted, “Good job. Now help Stef.”

Blinking to clear my vision, I released the flute a little at a time until Fayden had everything. Fire surged through my palm and blood dripped from where the keys had pierced my skin. I staggered over to Stef, who was limping from the wagon. Orrin released him and turned back for her sister.

“What happened?” I could hardly lift my arms to support Stef, but I forced myself to take as much of his weight as I could; the way he favored his left leg hinted that something was very wrong.

“It’s broken. A shelf fell on me when the wagon wheel collapsed.” He checked over his shoulder. “They’re both out now. Where are we going?”

I scanned the area, but it was so hard to see anything with the smoke and chaos. “I think people are heading into the woods.” Both of us gasping, I guided him away from the collapsing structure. “Can you make it?”

“I think so.” Stef coughed and reached for his aunts as they came to help support him.

I didn’t see dragons toward the trees where people were running. The beasts had once again taken to the sky—most of them anyway—and were circling as though searching for escapees. As I watched, one of the dragons spat a glob of acid on the far side of the camp; new screams erupted.

“We have to hurry. Where’s Fayden?”

“Here.” He appeared at my side and handed me the ruined flute; keys had been stripped off, while the tube was bent and beyond repair. Congealing blood dripped off the metal. “Sorry about that.”

“Using it was my idea. I knew what would happen.” I waved the flute toward the woods. “We’re going there.”

Fayden turned to Whit and Orrin. “Go ahead. We’ll get Stef there as quickly as we can. Find someone who can set his leg. Rin, maybe.”

Orrin gave a terse nod, while Whit touched Stef’s shoulder. “No stopping to build a catapult or any of your usual nonsense.”

“I’ll be good.” Stef flashed a pained smile.

When the sisters took off toward the forest, Fayden grabbed Stef’s other side, and the two of us half carried him through the rubble-strewn camp. I kept the flute in my belt; I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away just yet.

“So, dragons.” Fayden shook his head. “Yet another thing that wants to kill us.”

Stef nodded. “My aunts think we stumbled into their territory. Their hunting grounds, maybe. I guess they didn’t hear that Meuric was planning on us living here.”

“Maybe they did and that’s the problem.” I staggered when my knee gave under the strain of Stef’s additional weight, but I caught myself before we fell. “We’re almost there,” I rasped. A lie. Whit and Orrin, who’d been running, were just now reaching the tree line. We weren’t halfway there.

But others were. Ahead, hundreds of people fled into the woods—toward safety, I hoped. Others came from behind us, burned and bruised, most limping or pressing their hands against bleeding injuries.

And overhead, the dragons seemed to be leaving. Maybe this was a warning, but up they flew, north again until they were beyond the wall and tower.

We were safe. I hoped. Without the supplies we’d packed in our burning wagons, we’d probably all die, but if the dragons were leaving, we had a chance.

“Watch out!” Someone screamed from the trees, just as a heavy thud behind me made the earth jump. Stef, Fayden, and I all went sprawling facedown to the ground.

I scrambled to my feet and spun around to face a dragon—the same one that had looked at me earlier, though I couldn’t tell how I knew. There was just something about those blue eyes, deeper than the sky.

And now it was looking at me again, as though it saw through to my soul, and it hated me.

The familiar rooting feeling began within me, that paralyzing fear that had kept me from acting when my mother’s life was at stake, or when the centaurs attacked the caravan. I couldn’t let that happen again.

I shook myself free of the terror and pivoted to help Stef to his feet. “Come on,” I rasped. “Start limping.”

Fayden flashed a proud grin as we worked together to help Stef, but when I glanced over my shoulder, the dragon’s mouth had opened, revealing those incredible teeth and the faint glow of green from within.

It was going to spit acid.

It was going to kill us.

“Get Stef to safety.” I left Stef’s side and ran toward the dragon. A feral cry tore from my throat as I drew my ruined flute.

“Sam!” Stef cried.

“Let’s go!”

The dragon snarled, revealing the acid glowing on its tongue.

I hefted my flute high and thrust it into the beast’s nostril. It roared, and acid spilled from its mouth as I darted away.

It hadn’t had time to aim. It hadn’t been able to spit the volley of acid on Fayden and Stef.

I didn’t have time to check on them, though. I’d taken only two steps to the side of the growing pool of acid when I hit the ground, jarring my shoulder and elbow. My head struck a rock and the world blurred.

Thunder ripped as the dragon took to the sky.

I rolled and clambered to my feet, my whole body shaking with adrenaline. I’d done it. I’d saved them and sent the dragon away.

“Fayden! Stef!” The names ripped from my throat, lost beneath the rush and wind of the dragon’s wings flapping. Droplets of acid sprayed from the pool, stinging where they touched my face.

Desperately, I swiped my sleeves over my skin, but the burning only spread. My eyes and face itched as I shucked off my jacket; the reek or burned wool seared my nose.

“Fayden?” I blinked through the tears that obscured my vision.

There, beyond the pool of glowing green. Stef was pushing himself up to sit. Behind him, Fayden was on the ground, motionless. Acid covered his legs, and had splashed all across his back. It was too shadowy to see what kind of damage the acid had done already, but he wasn’t moving.

My head spun as I rushed for them. The reek of the acid made my thoughts reel and forced me to breathe shallowly.

Groaning, Stef scooted away from the acid, dragging his broken foot behind him. Over and over, he swore as he grabbed for his boot and began untying it.

Stef was alive.

But Fayden? His legs were covered in green.

I dropped next to my brother’s head, just shy of the pool of acid. He didn’t move—didn’t even seem to realize I was there. “Fayden?” Panic leeched through me as I grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from the green goo.

His legs did not come with him.

I gagged and wanted to look away, but even as I started to turn my head, the whites of his eyes flashed in the wan light.

“Sam.” His voice was nothing more than a breath; I had to lean close to hear him. “Help Stef. Be brave.”

“I—”

But the life faded from his eyes, and I didn’t know what I’d been about to say anyway. My chest ached and I couldn’t breathe. Dimly, over the roaring in my ears, I heard Stef screaming for me to look up.

A thunderclap overhead drew my gaze. It was the dragon, circling around to attack again.

Blind with tears and horror, I released my brother’s shoulders and grabbed Stef.

I hauled him up and dragged him several steps, him gasping and sobbing every second of it. A glob of acid exploded behind us, and pinpricks of burning dotted the back of my head and neck. With my bleeding hands and still-shaking arms, I adjusted my grip on Stef and dragged him toward the forest.

“Where’s Fayden?” His voice was rough with pain and fear as we entered the shelter of the forest and fell into his aunts’ arms. “What happened to Fayden?”

The words choked me. “My brother is dead.”