We hurtled into the sky, falling upward as fast as Acid Breath’s wings would carry us.
We slipped. Ropes gouged my waist and legs. Sam pressed harder against me. Any moment now, the ropes would snap and we’d fall.
Our ascent eased, and Acid Breath was horizontal again.
I didn’t know when I’d stopped screaming. Maybe whenever the air had stopped being heavy enough for proper breathing. Gasping, I waited for my heart to slow into a regular rhythm, and for my ears to stop aching. Sam shook against me; I trembled, too.
Acid Breath’s wings thundered, and sharp air rushed against our faces, but we were still on his back, and that was what I cared about.
Sam’s voice strained under the din of wings and air. “Are you okay?”
I tried to nod, but he wouldn’t see it. Instead, I released my useless death grip on the blanket and touched his hand still on my ribs. My head still throbbed from the pressure—or not enough pressure—and my whole body felt like I’d lost a round with Rangedge Lake, but I was okay. As long as we never did that again.
Sam’s grip relaxed as I sat up a little, letting my hood and our blanket cocoon hide the sight of wings, and the passage of blackness beneath and around us. I didn’t want to see after all.
Movement behind me. Tugging on my coat and shirts. Hot skin slid against my waist and ribs, and the weight of Sam’s head settled on my back. My heartbeat steadied with his palm on my skin. I couldn’t stop the panic whenever Acid Breath dipped or changed directions, but this tactile reminder of Sam’s presence helped.
We flew through snow clouds for hours, mostly gliding on a plane of air. The wind never ceased. For a while we listened to the dragons speak to one another, but the ringing in my ears was overwhelming, and the dragons seemed disinclined to converse much while we were on top of them. And with us around, in general. They seemed to fear we’d learn all their dragonish secrets.
I hoped Whit and Stef were faring better, but my thoughts shifted toward our inevitable descent, and what would happen when we finally reached Range.
The clouds moved northeast, away from us. Hours later, the sky turned indigo, and a brilliant line of gold light shot across the eastern horizon. The sun peeked from behind a ridge of mountains, illuminating the long curve of the earth. Mountains pierced the sky, all snow and ice and frozen beauty. And in the west, a bright glow drew my gaze: the temple in the city of Heart.
As light flooded the white land, pouring between mountains and into valleys like rivers and lakes of pure gold, I found the cavities in the ground left behind from hydrothermal eruptions. It was difficult to see them from our distance, but the fact that I could see them at all—that they existed—was enough to be terrifying.
Sam shouted from behind me, “Do you see Templedark Memorial?”
I peered north of the city, but if Templedark Memorial existed anymore, it was too far for me to see. I shook my head and ducked as Acid Breath banked eastward.
It was midmorning by the time buzzing flared in my thoughts.
<This is the place.>
Going down was just as terrible as going up. The descent made us dip forward, and the impact of landing jarred every bone in my body, but then everything grew deliciously still and I imagined going to sleep in a real bed. Showering with hot water. Not living in a tent.
“Oh no.” Sam swore quietly, making me look up.
Menehem’s lab lay in ruins.
23
ALLIANCE
MOST OF THE building remained standing, though there were holes in the roof and a tree had fallen on it, leaving one end open to the elements. The cisterns were on the ground, a sheet of ice spreading around them. The solar panels had been damaged beyond repair, and unidentifiable bits of machinery spilled from the door.
“No,” I breathed. “No, no.” I fumbled for the straps of the harness, struggling to free myself from the ropes gouging into my midsection.
“Wait.” Sam grabbed my hands and held me still. “Just wait. I’ll get it.”
When he released my hands and began unbuckling the harness, I just stared at the ruins of my father’s lab and watched as sylph emerged from the forest. They gave a long, melancholy wail as they drifted through the ruins.
“Now.” The harness loosened around me and I shoved the ropes off my shoulders and stomach, shoved aside the blankets, too. Hardly realizing what I was doing, I hopped onto Acid Breath’s foreleg and slid down, then ran toward the wreckage.
Inside the building was even worse. There was the kitchen area where Sam and I had burned so many meals because we’d been kissing and lost track of time; now the contents of the cupboards lay scattered on the floor, crushed and spilling open.
There was the screen where I’d watched videos of my father experimenting on sylph; now it was cracked and hollowed out.
There was the sleeping area where Sam had sat next to me one afternoon and, for the first time, told me that he loved me; now the mattress was shredded, its foam and wool like snow on the floor.
In the back, the upper story had collapsed into the lab, crushing machines and crates filled with Menehem’s clothes and old gear. The cracked screen of a data console shimmered in morning light, which shone through holes in the roof and the open mouth of the rear door.
“Ana?” Sam’s voice made me turn to find him standing in the doorway, framed by light. “Are you okay?” He had our bags and my flute case, and behind him I could see Acid Breath peering suspiciously.
<Humans live in squalor,> he muttered to one of the other dragons.
“Yeah. No.” I shook my head and tried to focus my thoughts around the exhaustion, the shock, and the constant ringing that came whenever dragons were near. “I wasn’t expecting this. But of course Deborl destroyed the lab. Of course.”
“There were earthquakes, too.”
I motioned at the springs ripped from the mattress, the whole thing sliced open like a prize waited inside. “Some of this was deliberate. And there were drones.”
Sam dropped our backpacks and laid the flute on top, his movements stiff under the dragon’s scrutiny. “It’s okay. Come back outside.”
Even as he spoke, the building gave a low groan and shuddered. He was right. It wasn’t safe to be in here, not after the earthquakes, too.
I trudged outside to find Stef and Whit off their dragon and removing the harnesses in silence. Buzzing filled my head as Acid Breath studied me.
<You said you had a poison. Was it stored here?>
“No.” I gazed north, toward the cave where I’d hidden the twenty canisters. “I’m going to check on it, but it should be safe. The ones who did this wouldn’t know where I hid the poison.”
Acid Breath huffed. <Then our deal is still on. We will gather an army. Where will you be?>
I gazed around the ruins, snow and ice and metal shining in the sunlight. “Here for a little bit, but not long. Maybe a night or two. Then we’ll return to the city. We can walk.”
“And if Deborl left someone to watch for us?” Stef asked.
“We’ll deal with them if it comes up.”
Sam nudged me. “The canisters. How will we carry them?”
With four people and twenty canisters as big as my torso, it would be impossible. I’d hoped to have more, though. Twenty . . . I couldn’t see how it would be enough.
Acid Breath narrowed his eyes. <Take me to the poison. We will leave it outside your city.>
That could work. “We’ll have to get them into the city somehow.”
Whit nodded. “And right now we don’t even know how we’ll get ourselves inside.”
<When will Janan ascend? We can bring the canisters into the city when it begins.>
Sam, Stef, Whit, and I glanced at one another. “When does Soul Night officially begin?” I asked.
“Sundown.” Sam’s voice was low and sober. “Soul Night begins as soon as the sun sets.”
Eleven more days.
<That is when we will have your canisters ready. Where should we put them for now? Where should we bring them at sundown?> Acid Breath asked.
I glanced at the others for suggestions, but when no one spoke, I said, “For now, put them in Templedark Memorial. The field of black obelisks.”
<They’re all fallen.>
From the earthquakes. Yes. “I know. Put the canisters there, anyway. Can you do it at night so no one spots you?”
<They will hear us.>
“You can be quick, can’t you?”
<Yes.> Acid Breath’s voice grated in my head.
“Then you’ll be fine. The darkness is so they won’t see what you’re doing. Most people in the city want Janan to ascend. They don’t want us to use the poison against him, because they’re afraid. They’re terrified of the unknown—what happens if Janan doesn’t ascend.”
“They don’t know what happens if he does, though,” Whit said.
I nodded. “But someone they trust—Deborl—told them it will be good.”
The dragon blinked slowly, and the other two swung their heads around to look at me. <Will the other humans try to kill us during the spring equinox?>
“Maybe.” Or maybe they’d be too busy with Janan and whatever the cage was for.
<I suppose you don’t want us to harm them, regardless?>
“That’s what I’d prefer.” Though if he wanted to drown Deborl in a glob of acid, I wouldn’t mind.
The dragon’s grumble vibrated the ground. <Where should we take the poison inside the city?>
I closed my eyes and thought about what places might be clear, what places would be easy for dragons to reach, while difficult for Deborl and his guards. “The Councilhouse roof. We can get into the temple from there, release the poison, and duck away quickly.”
“And we’ll fly onto the roof?” Whit asked. “Magically?”
“I’m sure Stef will come up with something.”
Stef sighed and nodded. “Of course I will.”
<That is acceptable to us. Take us to the poison.>
I motioned at Sam and the others to stay behind; they could start setting up camp. A handful of sylph came with us, melting snow and ice from our path.
<Are you sure you don’t want us to carry you to the city? Your legs are so small. It will take you days to walk there on your own.>
“We can’t just ride dragons up to the city,” I muttered.
Besides, I wouldn’t subject Sam to another dragon ride if I didn’t have to. It seemed like we were safest if Sam and the dragons stayed far away from one another.
“Be careful with the canisters,” I cautioned. “If they open before we’re ready, we’ve lost. There’s only one chance.”
The dragons decided to wait until evening to take the canisters, but they stayed far out of our way the entire time they were in the area. We only heard them from a distance, crashing through trees and rumbling. Even the buzzing din of their dialogue was far away, allowing us to pick through the wreckage of the lab for a few hours in peace.
Little was salvageable. Stef found a few things she wanted to keep, and I found the canister that had been filling when we left the lab. There was nothing in it now—the poison had dispersed long ago—and there were no others lying around. So the lab had been destroyed shortly after we left.
I called Sarit to update her, and as evening fell, dragon thunder cracked the sky. We all went outside to watch Acid Breath and his friends take off, our hope clasped in their teeth and talons. Their bodies slithered through the air, scales reflecting the last rays of sunlight as they climbed higher and higher.
When they were out of sight, Sam’s posture relaxed, and we both retreated into the tent where sylph warmed our sleeping bags and heated a pot of soup.
-Animals are leaving Range.- Cris’s song was low, worried. The others hummed their concern, too.