Traitor (14 page)

I quickly answered their puzzled glares when I ripped off my helmet and dropped it at my feet.

When the gray elf warriors saw my face, the way my eyes were glowing like lanterns, they immediately began backing away. Some of them even threw away their weapons and dropped to their knees. They spoke to me in their native tongue, crying out desperately and calling me by a name I’d never heard before—Lapiloque.

I hadn’t come for them, though.

I stepped through their ranks, which parted for me like a sea of sword and shield. One of the monstrous boars was charging straight for me. I could feel the earth trembling with its thundering steps. It was huge, nearly ten feet tall, with wickedly barbed tusks jutting from its lower jaw and a mane of quill-like spines down its back.

This beast had ignored my command. It had defied me. I wouldn’t tolerate that kind of insubordination.

I raised my blade toward the boar, daring it one more time to disobey. But it just kept coming, barreling toward me and snorting with rage.

“So be it,” I murmured.

My body moved, seeming to know just exactly what to do next. I snapped into a wider stance and swung my blade wide, slicing the air and leaving behind a rift of power that burst forth with brilliant green light, emitting waves of raw energy.

The boar slammed right into it, and immediately began squealing in panic. The rift swallowed it like a gaping maw, leaving nothing but echoing shrieks of fear and a radiant white-green light that began to grow smaller and smaller until at last it died away.

A single seed, about the size of a pumpkin seed, fell to the ground where the boar had been.

All around me was silence.

I could feel the anxiety and quiet horror in the air as the eyes of soldiers, both human and elf, stared at me. I made a point not to look at any of them as I bent down to pick up the seed, slipping it calmly into my belt and looking skyward.

Mavrik answered my unspoken command to return. I could easily pick out the sound of his roar even in the midst of battle. Slipping my blade back into its sheath, I reached skyward and caught one of the handles of my dragon’s saddle as he swooped low. I was pulled skyward by the force of his wings, ripped off the earth and carried back into the churning, war-lit sky.

I began looking for another target—another rebellious child to punish. But something cut through my mind like a cold splinter. It wasn’t something physical. It was a sound; a sound I knew.

I heard a dragon’s agonized bellow. It wasn’t just any dragon, though. Over the swell of noise, the cries and clashing of blades, and the roaring drone of combat, I knew it was Ghost.

It pierced me to the very core and snapped me out of my trance.

I looked around frantically, searching the sky for Ghost and Jace. I spotted them in the distance, darting in frantic evasive maneuvers as a pair of shrikes chased after them viciously. They were flying directly over Luntharda, skimming dangerously close to the tops of the trees. I could see arrows flying, and the shapes of riders on the shrikes’ backs. One of them was wearing an elaborate, colorful headdress with white horns.

It was the gray elf princess.

I snarled and bared my teeth. Mavrik did the same. We turned and swept higher, beginning our pursuit.

Ghost had already been hit multiple times. Arrows were sticking out of his scaly hide, and yet he refused to go down. He was in pain. I could feel it. The poison from the arrows was coursing through his body, making each breath and wing beat a struggle. But he was fighting desperately to stay airborne—fighting because he knew if he fell, his rider would die.

“Hold on,” I growled. “Just hold on.”

I saw the gray elf princess draw back another arrow. It was as though it all happened in slow motion.

The arrow left her bow, blurring toward its mark, hitting Ghost right in the back of the skull.

The dragon lurched. His wing beats stopped abruptly. In my mind, his voice went silent.

That sudden silence jarred me violently.

Ghost’s limp body plummeted from the sky with Jace hanging onto him for dear life. It was a horrible moment of déjà vu. I had seen another mentor of mine, Sile, fall from the sky like this, but I had managed to save him.

I didn’t know if I would be able to duplicate that miracle now, though. We were still so far away. I urged Mavrik to go faster, and he poured every ounce of his speed into our pursuit.

The green canopy of Luntharda swallowed Ghost and Jace. They disappeared, and I frantically began trying to detect whether or not Jace was still alive. I was already weakened from the amount of power I had used to deal with the boar. I could barely grip the saddle handles as Mavrik stormed forward, swerving past other dragons and shrikes that passed us in the air. My head was swimming, and my extremities were becoming numb. Pressing through all the noise and the growing exhaustion that made my senses sluggish, I focused only on Jace.

I could still feel the presence of his life force. It was faint. But it was there.

I knew what I had to do.

“Get as close as you can. Then put me down,” I panted.

Mavrik growled in reluctance. He cocked his head to the side so that I could see one of his big yellow eyes. He didn’t approve of this plan.

“It’s okay, buddy.” I patted his neck. “I have to do this. It’s my fault he got pinned down in the first place. We abandoned him. I can’t do it a second time. He’s still alive. That means he survived the crash. I can get him out of there. I’m the only one who can.”

Mavrik sent me worried hues of blue and orange and flashes of memories from the battle scenario. He was worried I wouldn’t be able to make it out alive by myself, let alone with Jace. I couldn’t really argue his logic. There was no guarantee.

And there also wasn’t any other choice.

“As soon as I’m off, I want you to go find Felix. Do whatever you can to back him up. Understand?” My voice got tight. Emotion made my chest feel heavy. “And when this is over, if you can’t feel my presence anymore … then you are free to go back home. That was our deal. Remember?”

Mavrik made a sorrowful series of chirping sounds as he acknowledged my last request. He spread his wings wide, ducking down under another dragon, weaving out of the way of a shrike or two. Ahead of us, the jungle grew closer and closer by the moment.

When we were close enough, he dropped even lower and started a steep turn. I pulled my legs out of the boot sheaths again, and kicked away from the saddle. In a matter of seconds, I was on the ground, watching my dragon disappear into the battle-ridden tangled sky.

I didn’t have time to reflect. My legs were already getting wobbly. I’d used so much power, and whatever I still had left in me was going to serve one final purpose. I was going to heal Jace and get him out of that jungle alive, even if it killed me.

I owed him that much, at least.

I staggered over the boundary that separated our kingdoms, passing between the trunks of the giant trees of Luntharda. They loomed all around me like moss-covered columns, their interwoven branches blotting out the light of the sun and the cold wind of the springtime. It was an entirely different world; slathered in varying shades of green, and filled with alien sounds that came from all directions. The air was thick and humid, and it smelled of rich, moist earth. Behind me, the sound of the battle was distant and easily forgotten.

I had nothing to guide me except my power, which allowed me to pinpoint Jace’s location amidst a riot of whispering voices. I didn’t see any animals, so at first, I wasn’t sure what was making all the racket in my brain. Then I realized—it was the trees.

I stumbled into the crash site so suddenly it caught me completely off guard. Ghost’s body had broken through the canopy and lay still, tangled up in branches and vines that had snagged on him as he fell.

Only a few yards away, I found Jace.

He was dying. I knew it right away. Lying on his back with his legs bent in the wrong directions, there was blood coming from his mouth and ears. He couldn’t move, and based off what I could sense, most of the bones in his body were broken.

I fell to my knees beside him, pushing away limbs and leaves that had fallen on top of his body. “Jace! I’m here!”

He blinked at me confusedly, like he wasn’t sure who I was at first. “You came back.”

“I’m so sorry, Jace.” I tried to apologize. I shouldn’t have left him. I’d broken all the rules of my training and let myself get carried away. “I can fix it. I can get you out.”

“It’s all right,” he said in a strangely calm, quiet voice. “It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel it. Just let me go.”

“I can’t—” I started to argue.

“I’ve waited a long time for this.” He wouldn’t let me finish. “I’ve paid back my debt.”

Whatever debt he was talking about, it would have to wait or be paid back with something other than his life. I wasn’t about to let him down again. I could save him. I could heal his broken body. It might cost me my own, but that was the price I would have to pay for leaving him in the first place.

I put my hands on his chest, letting my eyes roll closed as I called forth whatever remained of my power. It was going to be costly. I probably would pass out, which was essentially a death sentence in Luntharda based on everything I’d heard and studied. But I was okay with that. He would live. That’s all that mattered.

“When this is done, I want you leave this place,” I told him. “Run. Don’t look back. And don’t waste your efforts trying to carry me out. You won’t have that much time to spare.”

The drain was immediate. His failing body gobbled up my power greedily, drinking it in and beginning to repair all that had been so badly broken. I felt bones knitting back together, flesh mending, and the surge of energy flowing through every muscle.

Jace took in a shocked, violent breath. He gripped my arms suddenly like he wanted to push me away. But my work was nearly done.

As the last drop of power left my body, the darkness began closing in. All strength left me. I was numb and paralyzed as I fell sideways onto the soft jungle floor.

That was when I saw him.

He was standing between two enormous ferns, peeking out at me with those eerie, color-changing eyes. He wore intricate, colorful battle attire, carried a longbow in one hand, and had red war symbols painted on his body. His long white hair had been woven into hundreds of braids and was pulled back away from his face. As our eyes met, I wondered if this was good luck … or an extremely bad coincidence.

“Kiran,” I managed to rasp his name.

His eyes widened with recognition.

I knew he had seen me heal Jace. There was no question about it. He had that same, awe-struck and slightly mortified expression the other gray elves had when I revealed myself on the battlefield.

Jace was beginning to sit up. He was panting for breath, feeling over his freshly healed body with amazement written all over his face. He obviously hadn’t noticed we were being watched.

That didn’t last long.

With a flash of light glinting off hundreds of mirror-like scales, a shrike landed between Kiran and us. It let out a piercing shriek, regarding Jace with its peculiar gleaming green eyes. There was primal intelligence behind them, and I could feel its presence faintly bleeding into my overexerted brain. It was curious about me, not sure what to make of my mixed scent, and trying to decide if I was a threat or not.

Jace, on the other hand, it definitely didn’t like. When he scrambled to his feet, drawing both of his swords, the shrike hissed and flared its translucent feathered wings. Its long tail lashed slowly to and fro, and the muscular shoulders of all six of its legs rolled like a cat waiting to pounce. They were in a standoff, each waiting for the other to make a wrong move.

Then I saw her. Or rather, I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t move my body, but I saw a bit of sunlight gleam off the point of a blade that was poised right behind Jace’s neck.

He was absolutely clueless about it, though, until she spoke.

“Drop your weapons, pig.” a young woman’s voice snapped bitterly. Her speech was rough, like she wasn’t used to the human language, but she seemed to have a fairly good handle on it.

Jace let out a curse when he realized he’d been ambushed. He dropped both his swords.

“Hands behind your head. On your knees,” the she elf commanded. She began pacing a circle around Jace as he obeyed. At last, she stepped directly into my view.

I couldn’t see her face—not at first—because she still wore the royal battle headdress Prax had told me about. It looked like a mask with an attached mane of brilliant colored feathers, leaves, and shrike scales that hung all the way down her back. It had a pair of slender white deer horns that swept back from over the ears. Those, I understood, were the true mark of gray elf royalty.

Her clothes were equally bizarre. I’d never seen gray elves dressed in their traditional style before. All the elves that had lived in the ghetto where I grew up wore human-looking clothes. But these were more exotic, more beautiful, and
far
more revealing.