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СКАЧАТЬ Halfway down, a keen wail rode the wind, slicing her ears. Black ribbons flickered on the horizon.

      “Danika, stop! They’re coming back!”

      She jumped the final five feet and landed on her hands and knees beside the smithy. So many had died. If she could save just one…

      The boy cowered with his arms covering his head.

      “Boy! Come here.” She waved to him but his eyes were shut as tight as a noblewoman’s purse.

      “Horred’s Grave.” She’d have to sprint to make it. She skirted a pile of flaming wood and jumped over the wall, the broken glass tearing her bell-shaped sleeves like wyvern’s teeth. She stumbled forward on her hand and knees, ripping the fabric to free herself.

      A bronze plate three sizes too big hung on the boy’s sagging shoulders. Had the armor shielded him? Surely not. The fire would heat the metal to near melting, sizzling a layer of skin.

      As she ran toward him, he turned in the direction of her footsteps and peeked through narrow eyelids. He must have recognized her, because his eyes widened as big as two chicken eggs in a face covered in thick, black ash. Surprisingly, he had no burns.

      “Follow me.” She hoisted him up, and they scuttled through a hole blazed into the foundation.

      The boy tugged on her arm to hide underneath the anvil. “It’s too late. They’re here.”

      Danika fought him as she glanced at the sky. The ribbons grew thicker, spiraling through the air like glittering pennants on Festival Day. The pattern of swirls mesmerized her as the horde unfurled.

      She blinked, tearing her gaze away. “We can still make it.”

      The boy had stopped battling her, hypnotized by the sky. “It’s too late.”

      “No.” She yanked him around and screamed her throat raw. “Run!”

      As they neared the cliff, Bron stood above them like a chiseled statue of a war god, unsheathing his golden claymore. A pang of worry pierced her stomach like a dagger. He’d stayed behind to distract the wyverns’ attention to cover their escape.

      Why had she been so foolish?

      The first wyvern landed with a gush of wings on the outskirts of the village behind them, while a second flew straight toward Bron. Danika climbed, knowing full well she might have sent the two-time war veteran to his death. She lifted the boy and pushed him up the hill.

      “Burrow’s Bucket! I can climb by myself.” He swiped her away and paused, throwing off the breastplate before scrambling up the crag. Danika grabbed at weeds, pulling them out as she struggled for a handhold. Although she should have focused all her energy on climbing, she gazed up at Bron.

      The wyvern dove and lunged, smacking jaws longer than Bron’s claymore. Bron ducked and swung, sinuous muscles bunching and stretching. He missed its shimmering hide by inches. The warrior excelled in hand-to-hand combat, but if the wyvern ignited its belly of fire, he’d have no defense.

      “Over here.” The boy had found a path up the incline. He reached down over a ridge and grabbed her hand, trying to pull her up. His scrawny arms shook as Danika slid through his sooty fingers. Her heels skidded backward until they hit a rock. “Don’t wait for me. Go!”

      The boy dangled his arm, waving her to him. “Come on.”

      She could make it. She took a step back and ran, leaping toward the ridge and catching a bramble. The boy grasped her arm. Thank the gods for all the secret training Bron had given her. Danika hefted herself over the edge. She grabbed the boy’s hand and they scrambled toward the carriage.

      She glanced at the place where Bron had stood. Nothing remained except a darkening sky with wyverns writhing through the air. “B-Bron.” Panic rose inside her, along with a feeling of sheer loneliness. What if he’d died for her impulsiveness?

      “I’m here, Princess,” he thundered from behind the carriage. He’d rigged the horses and collected the reins in his hand.

      The boy jumped in without a word. Danika shot Bron a look that would have killed an ordinary man.

      “I thought you’d died.”

      “Princess, you know better than to traipse off while wyverns rule the sky.”

      Danika gestured to the boy kicking his heels against the carriage seat. “I couldn’t leave him.”

      “So be it.” He threw a tarp over a lump of steaming scales, shining oily green black in the twilight. “You have a new trophy for your mead hall.”

      “Honestly, I prefer the wall bare.” Disgusted by death, she jumped in the carriage.

      Frenzied screeches filled the sky behind them like mad raven calls.

      “Hi-ya!” Bron whipped the reins and the horses galloped forward. Danika pressed her cheek to the glass. The wyverns became threads in the darkening sky. Her castle had a bastion of archers, but there were many more beasts than in her nightmares. Her stomach sank to her knees. In time, the writhing masses would overcome Ebonvale’s ramparts as well.

      Chapter 2

      Lyric Poem

      Danika awoke to the squealing wheels of the carriage as they rounded patchy lumps in the road. What under-tended alleyway had Bron chosen? Groggy from slumber, she checked on the boy. He’d fallen asleep curled on the cushions. After wiping away a smear of ash on his cheek, she reached over him and drew back the velvet curtains. The last rays of dim light filtered in and she almost lost her stomach. Blue-tinged trees loomed overhead. Gray moss draped from the drooping branches in wisps, like shrouds of the dead.

      Anger and frustration rumbled inside her. She could never leave Bron alone without expecting him to defy orders. Danika slid the front window open and stuck out her head. “Bron, why in Helena’s Goblet are we traipsing through Bluewood Pines?”

      “I see you’ve woken.” Bron twisted his thick lips in a small half-smile, the scar on his right cheek shining like a badge.

      “Woken is correct, but to what?”

      “Relative safety. The wyverns cut off our escape. Those sky worms are smarter than you think. They let us get away, Princess.”

      The woods swirled around her. “I don’t understand.”

      He shook his head. “You’re lucky I still have my eagle eye. Another swarm waited for us across the bridge. I saw black flickers in the sky as we crested the main road. Although I’m flattered, you overestimate my abilities to protect you. I can take down one, but an entire swarm would incinerate us in heartbeats.”

      “This isn’t our territory.”

      “They’ll never know we’re here.”

      “The carriage squeals like a newborn pig.”

      His over-confidence normally drew her in, but in times like these she wished he had more humility. He’d risked his reputation for her whimsy, smuggling her out of the СКАЧАТЬ