The dragons who were diving at us when Raechtar did the… thing… are still mid-dive. I feel like I was in the light-fire-ice place for hours, but has it even been seconds?
“Tay.”
My fingers tighten around Ygdris’. The wounds in his chest has healed, and there’s a light in his eyes I haven’t seen before.
I drag my gaze away quickly. Up to the sky, ignoring the pressure of Ygdris’ fingers around mine.
“Your treasure’s about to get himself killed,” I say, my voice harsh.
Ygdris sighs. “Of course he is.”
He stands up in one smooth motion, pulling me with him, and transforms.
The cloudbreakers start screeching before he’s even fully shifted. They flit away from Raechtar and into a defensive formation. When I see Ygdris’ dragon form, I understand why.
He’s massive. His body winds around the flooded buildings, opal-bright scales flashing in the sun. He raises his wings, and they blot out the sun.
*I advise you to run,* he remarks coolly to the stormbreakers, gently picking me up in one enormous, clawed forepaw. Each claw is as thick as my thigh, but I’m not afraid as he closes them around me.
The stormbreakers scream defiance, and he gives a reptilian shrug. *As you wish.*
Ygdris leaps into the air. The stormbreakers wheel around to meet his attack. They’re the Protectorate’s elite forces, trained from birth to serve the Emperor-Prince.
Ygdris opens his mouth and incinerates them with a single breath.
Oh my God. Ygdris isn’t just any dragon. He’s—
Raechtar’s screech of triumph interrupts my thoughts. Ygdris roars in response and the two of them dance together in the air, the tips of their wings touching as they whirl and dive.
I cling to Ygdris’ huge claws, my stomach swooping for reasons that have nothing to do with the victory flight.
*Not used to flying?*
My fingers clench as Raechtar’s voice appears in my mind. “Not so much.”
I didn’t expect him to hear my muttered response, but then I feel a psychic whump of something that feels like an apology. I blink.
*We’re making her sick. Where’s your ship, Ygdris? Or did you throw yourself off the Imperial Cushion and fall to earth with nothing but the clothes on your back?*
An orb of light bursts in my mind, carrying with it the image of an overgrown ruin on the south coast. I’m gripping Ygdris’ claws so hard I can’t breathe.
It’s not the flying that’s making me sick with fear. It’s everything else. Whatever is happening here, with the kisses and Ygdris suddenly healing like that, and now these voices in my head…
I need to get out. Fast. Out of Ygdris’ claws. Out of the city. Out of reach of…
*Don’t worry.* Ygdris’ psychic voice is cool but reassuring, like a clear mountain stream. And my whole being leans towards it, my parched soul longing for him. *The squad won’t have reported back yet. And I can ensure no further messages get through.*
He circles the Spire again, gaining height, and aims for a cluster of lights I recognise as the section that always goes crazy just before a patrol appears. He opens his jaw, and the section disintegrates as suddenly and cleanly as the stormbreaker squad did.
*There. No news goes out, and no reinforcements come in.*
*And they’re not going to notice a whole region just went dark?* Raechtar grumbles.
*The Spire went dark years ago. The Imperial family doesn’t want its personal torture chamber updating on the official net
works.* Ygdris’ voice is smooth… like the clear water above a deadly rip tide. *And now there’s nothing showing that stormbreaker patrol ever arrived.*
“But they’ll know they’re dead when they don’t come back, won’t they?” Ice crackles along my spine. “They’ll come after the city.”