“I’m fine,” he said.
She stepped over and reached out for him. He flinched away without thinking, and he saw the hurt in her eyes before it hardened. She pursed her lips, nodded, and turned back to Chalia.
“Let’s go convince some gods to start a war.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FOX
The air was sharp, icy blades against his skin every time he tried to lift his head. The exhilaration he’d felt flying on Chalia in the rainforest was left behind as they swerved around another rocky outcrop. She was flying low along the snow-covered mountain, trying to avoid the worst of the wind, but there was no escaping the icy gusts.
“We’re almost there,”she said, sensing their discomfort.
None of them spoke, but he felt Sofia, who was sitting directly in front of him, relax minutely. Micael was ahead of her, so Fox didn’t know what he was thinking. He was impressed the old man was willing to turn his back to Fox after the fit he’d had, but he’d barely made eye contact as they’d slipped onto the dragon.
Fox wasn’t giving up though. He’d prove his loyalties, even if he barely knew them.
He knew he didn’t want Harlow to get hold of the dragons. Perhaps a war was inevitable between their people, but if the chief commander had the dragons on his side, Fox knew it wouldn’t be a clean war. It might be short, but Harlow would wipe out the Dragonborn in his quest to keep the city and his people safe.
Hadn’t Fox been willing to do the same thing just blinks ago?He knew what it was like to fear for his people and his safety. But the dragons wouldn’t bring peace. They’d bring death.
Did he want the rebels to have the dragons on their side? Perhaps he trusted Sofia not to wipe out the Dereyans if faced with the opportunity, but he didn’t trust the way Micael spoke of the dragons—as a tool to be used—as a weapon. And even when Clarita spoke of worshipping the gods, he still saw the sparkle in her eyes—the hunger for power.
Before Fox could spiral deeper into his thoughts, a shadow fell over them. He looked up to see a peak piercing the sky above them, blocking the sun, its twin on the other side of the pass they glided through.
Quelia’s Wings,Sofia had called them, which meant…
Fox sat up straight, no longer caring about the sharp wind tearing across his face. Two enormous dragons, one black and one iridescent white, shot toward them in the sky. The white one sent a blast of water and ice through the air that shattered into snow before it hit them. It appeared more a warning than a true threat. And then the black dragon let out a roar that made Fox’s ears pop. He nearly let go of Chalia to cover them.
“You are trespassing,”one dragon said, his voice a low rumble.
“I am not a trespasser,”Chalia said, her tone flinty.“I demand an audience with my mother.”
“Aurelia rejects your audience.”
“Is that her speaking or you, Tierro?”
A silence followed, and Fox could tell from the tilt of the dragons’ heads that they were still talking—they’d simply cut the humans out. But finally, the two dragons flew higher, shooting away back down the pass where they’d come from, where the shadow of the peaks fell across the snow. And then they disappeared.
Not because they flew out of sight or turned behind an outcrop. One moment they were flying above the snow, and the next they were gone. Vanished.
Whatever relaxation Sofia had found in the flight was gone, and Fox felt her rigid against his chest.
“We’re headed into the nesting grounds,” Sofia said. “Chalia wants us to keep close to her even if they order us to dismount.”
Fox nodded, his breaths slow despite his beating heart. He braced his hand on her waist, pulling her tighter into his chest, as if he might protect her.
They dipped lower, moving toward where the other dragons had disappeared. Fox felt his vision go fuzzy for a moment, the sun seemingly bouncing off the gleaming white snow below and blinding him. Before he could question it, his sight cleared and his breath caught in his throat. The pristine snow below was gone—or more accurately, the emptiness was gone. Dozens of dragons were scattered across the slope and in the small valley below. The lake that had been reflecting the mountain peaks above now rippled with waves as two small dragons darted around, dragging their wings and feet through the water and creating spouts that shot into the sky.
There were peaks surrounding the valley. Two waterfalls crashed down through the craggy rocks and into rivers below. The sun sent a rainbow stretching across the mist of the falls. Fox’s breath caught at the sight. It was more beautiful than any Falain landscape—more beautiful than any of the children’s books he had read growing up.
There were so many dragons. The dragon gods were no more extinct than the trees in the forest. Though Fox wondered if this was them after the massacre, how many had there been? How many of these beautiful creatures had their kings slain?
“It’s beautiful,” Sofia said. “They’re beautiful.”
Fox couldn’t argue as he watched the sun shining off scales of every shade. And they were all so big—most the size of Eha or even larger.
Chalia explained that the nesting grounds encompassed the entire slope, along with a vast network of tunnels and caves throughout the area. These tunnels were where Quelia’s Womb was tucked, the place where they laid the eggs. No human had ever been allowed to see the true nesting grounds of the dragons. Somewhere nearby there were dozens of eggs waiting to hatch, and there was no set time for how long an egg sat before it hatched. Chalia proudly announced she’d only taken seventeen sun cycles of incubating.