“The captain wants to see you.”

  I let the man untie me before taking me to a large cabin at the bow of the airship. Gold and silver gild the door, and the room beyond is more luxurious, yet tasteless, than Jayce’s quarters. Where his is warm colors and wood, this one is the cold, modern decor favored by the rich in Dragonest.

  The two aristocrats I met at the Mermaid’s Ire sit around an enormous table laden with food and drinks. There is the dark man who kidnapped me, and his pale companion… The first time I saw him, I thought he was drunk, but in the bright light of the liquid-fire chandelier above us, I realize he looks sick. His face is thin, his cheeks hollowed out, and his blue eyes rimmed with purple. Even his blond hair appears faded and washed out. An image comes to mind: a sun-bleached bone on the forest floor, the creature it came from long dead.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Harlow Prince,” the dark and handsome aristocrat says.

  “You know my name.” I stay on my feet.

  “Of course. Alfred held you in high esteem. He said you were a gifted student at Dragonest University. The valedictorian of your year.”

  “And you are?”

  The man smiles. His teeth are perfectly straight and white. “Of course. Where are my manners?”

  “In the gutters,” I cut him off. “Considering you almost got my friend killed, then kidnapped me at gunpoint.”

  His gaze hardens. “Yes. I’m Lord Hunter Darrington, and this is my husband, Clarence.”

  The sickly man, Clarence, gives me a feeble smile. I want to bury his face in the pot of soup in front of him.

  “I can’t say it’s a pleasure.” I grab a glass and pour myself what looks like juice. I’m parched, and I don’t really give a fuck about table manners anymore.

  Clarence’s little smile stays on, even as I shake my ash-covered clothes and rub my blood-tainted shoes all over their pristine carpet.

  “We’re heading for a new lair,” says Lord Darrington. “We know the rough location, but that’s it. You’ll help us find it and steal the egg.”

  “Why?” I ask, throwing the empty glass over my shoulder. It breaks on impact, and this time, Clarence winces.

  Lord Darrington’s eyes turn cold. “Or we’ll go back to finish off your friends.”

  “No. That part is clear. I want to know why you’re stealing eggs. You can’t tame dragons.” I pace the room.

  “You’re a fire scrounger and dragoner, Mr. Prince. You know more than anyone the uses of dragon organic matter.”

  “Are you selling the eggs? Aren’t you rich enough?” I gesture at the surrounding airship.

  Lord Darrington looks like he’s annoyed at how slow I’m being. “No. We’re not selling anything. The healing properties—”

  “I’m dying,” Clarence cuts him off. “There’s no point beating around the bush,” he says when Lord Darrington gives him a saddened look. “I’ve been dying for years. The dragon egg yolk has healing properties. It’s keeping me alive. For a time…”

  I stare. We never studied eggs at university. How could we, when invading a lair go against the dragon law and often result in a terrible death?

  Alchemists and healers are discovering more uses for dragon matter every day, thanks to fire scroungers providing new samples. It’s a growing market. It makes sense that the eggs…

  “Fuck,” I say, realization dawning on me. “You’re sacrificing entire villages to dragon fury just to keep one of you barely alive?”

  Clarence, at least, looks a little ashamed.

  “Enough,” says Lord Darrington. “We didn’t ask for your opinion and moral high ground, dragoner. We need you to lead us to the next egg.”

  Moral high ground? My mind turns blank with rage. I tear at my clothes, pulling my tunic down to reveal the scars on my back. For a moment, both men stare at the dragon tattoo, but then Clarence grimaces, and I know he’s seen the burns.

  “This isn’t about morals,” I roar. “This is about life and death. Dragonfire burned my life to the ground, but I was lucky to survive. We can’t say the same of all the poor souls turned into ashes in your wake.” I point an accusing finger at them. “You are both monsters, and you deserve to decay from the inside out. I just wish it were the two of you dying and not just one.”

  Clarence sits back as if I slapped in the face.

  Lord Darrington stands up too fast for me to register his action before his cane comes crashing down on my head. I fall to the ground, and he beats me with it some more. He might be a pampered aristocrat, but he’s a tall man and blows are powerful.

  The pain is sharp and blinding, but so is my anger. I try to get to my feet to fight back, but some members of his crew enter the cabin to restrain me.

  I scream and try to bite the hands dragging me out of the cabin. Blood is running down my nose and onto my naked chest—my tunic hangs loose around my arms. Eventually, they have had enough, and they put me in a chokehold, cutting the airflow. I try to resist, but I’m pulled under by the lack of oxygen and lose consciousness.

  When I come back to reality, blood crusts my nose, and I have one eye swollen shut. My throat is sore, and it hurts to swallow, but the burns I survived far outweigh this pain, so I easily ignore it. The crew has locked me in chains in a dark room—a closet, really—but sunlight is pouring through a small window above me.

  “I am aware of our selfishness,” a soft voice says in the dark. Clarence is sitting on the floor, his back to the doorframe of my small room. “It’s funny what staring in the face of death does to someone. When I was younger, I wanted to be a great adventurer. I wanted to fight pirates and rescue princesses. Now I just wish I could walk for a few miles without fainting or make love to my husband.”

  I stare at him with my good eye. “Now you’re the bad guy princesses need rescuing from.”

  He sighs. “Yes.” He pauses. “He’ll do it, you know. Hunter is a man of his word. If you refuse to help us, he’ll send people after your friends and exterminate every one of them. I used to love the fact that he could burn the world to the ground for me. Now I’m just… so tired. But we’ve come too far to stop. I know it.”

  “You mean you’ve killed enough to stop feeling remorse? How convenient.”

  Clarence drops his cheek onto his knee, exhausted. “There’s nothing you can say I haven’t told myself already. We’ve been doing this for a year now. And some more…”

  I chuckle bitterly. “Some more?”

  “We’d learned of my diagnosis fifteen years ago, when we were only teenagers, and we tried different solutions. Nothing worked. So Hunter explored new sciences. He met with a shady alchemist, and the man provided us with powdered dragon egg yolk. I wondered how he got it, but Hunter didn’t care. I had my doubts, but the concoction gave me life. It lasted a few months, but… it gave us hope.”

  The dragon attack that cost me my family happened fourteen years ago. The alchemist might have caused it—or some other poacher. I wish I could blame Lord Darrington and Clarence for everything and finally have a target for my decade-old rage.

  “Where is this alchemist? I would love to have a word with him.”

  “He’s long dead. Hanged by the royal guard for his dubious craft. I can’t say I blame them.” He sighs. “My condition worsened after a year or two, and we went hunting for our first fresh egg. Airships weren’t a thing then, so it took us weeks to reach the wilds and find the lair of a young dragon. We lost a few men, but we had the egg. Hunter made me eat the entire thing raw. It was revolting. But it… it saved me again. I had a normal life for years after that. But eventually, my condition worsened again, and here we are. I have to eat eggs more often to stay alive.”

  “Don’t expect pity from me,” I say. “I have none to spare for you.”

  “I don’t want your pity. But maybe… understanding? We’re not doing this for gain or power. We’re doing it for love.”

  I glare at him. “Fuck your love. And fuck you.”

  Clarence watches me for a heartbeat, then sighs. “Very well. We’re heading to the last dragon’s lair. I made Hunter promise me. I’m tired. We noticed that the bigger the dragon, the more nourishing the egg is. So we’re heading to the biggest dragon on the continent.”

  I frown. The biggest female is Alduin, who has taken residency in the Forsaken Mines for over a century, and they already stole her egg.

  “Where are we heading?” I ask.

  “The Fangs.”

  The mountain range south of Dragonest.

  My frown deepens. “There are no dragons in that territory.”

  Not since Myrval—the legendary dragon who was at the origin of the Reign of Fire, the war against Dragonest and the Mad King that lasted ten years—died.

  Clarence smiles, as if he knows something I don’t. “Why do you think no dragons ever set their lair in those mountains for over a century?”

  My eyes widen, the implications of what he’s saying dawning on me.

  21

  Sleepless journey.

  JAYCE

  The small town of Orilon doesn’t have airdocks, so I watch from the balcony of the doctor’s house as my crew anchors the Blunder in a field outside of the city walls. The sun is high in the sky, and the populace has gathered to witness the landing.

  I sigh, relieved. They did it. They repaired my ship enough to let her fly.

  I don’t want to leave Kuroki’s side, so I ring the bell and send a housemaid to guide my friends here. My cousin is on the bed, drugged out of consciousness, and his arm is bandaged from hand to shoulder, hiding away the gruesome damage. The liquid-fire almost melted his skin right off his bones. His mother will never forgive me.

  A few minutes later, I squint as my crew disembarks from the Blunder. I count four people, and wonder who stayed behind to guard the ship, even though I don’t expect them to as Kuroki lies on the bed behind me. Freddy is the only one I recognize from the distance, thanks to his massive figure.

  Half an hour later, my confusion deepens as I realize the missing crew member is Harlow as they rush into the room, guided by the housemaid. Before I can voice my question, Wilbur has thrown himself on his knees beside Kuroki’s bed. His hands—the skin red and raw from his burns—are shaking as they skim over his body, avoiding his wounded arm.

  “He’s heavily drugged,” I say. “He doesn’t feel any pain.”

  Wilbur buries his face in the crook of Kuroki’s neck, and from the way his shoulders shake, too, I wonder if he’s crying. What a surprising turn of events.

  I frown, noticing the bandage around Wilbur’s head. “Now that you’re here, we’ll fly him to Dragonest. The good doctor here did his best, but he’s not qualified to treat such extensive burns. We’ll meet with Harlow’s adoptive father, the surgeon. Did Harlow stay on the ship?”

  Gia sobs, and my head snaps up. A single look from Alara tells me that something terrible happened. I know my second, and she’s fuming.

  “Harlow was taken,” she says.

  And the world comes crashing down on me.

  It took all but an instant for Alara to retell the events of the night, and I’m already running down the stairs of the townhouse, rage and fear buzzing under my skin like hornets.

  My hands are twitching over the guns at my belt; I feel like shooting someone. They took Harlow—my Harlow. I suddenly understand the dragons’ fury when they discovered their eggs were missing. I, too, feel like setting the sky on fire to get him back.

  The doctor’s eyes widen as I rush into the room where he’s accepting patients. “We need to move Kuroki to my airship immediately. Do you have a vehicle to move him?”

  The journey on horseback is not something I’m eager to repeat. Kuroki’s little whines of pain still haunt me.

  “Of course,” says the doctor. “I’ll have the cart ready immediately, and the supplies for the journey.”

  I gave him two vials of liquid-fire upon arrival to ensure he gave Kuroki his undivided attention and promised him more from the Blunder.

  “What’s the plan, Captain?” Alara asks as I come back to the room.

  “We’re taking Kuroki to Dragonest. And once he’s safe and cared for, we’re going after the fuckers who stole our dragoner. They’ll regret the day they crossed a crew of fire scroungers.”

  To my surprise, the first to nod is Wilbur. His eyes too are burning with rage.

  “Yes, Captain,” says Alara.

  An hour later, Freddy and I carry Kuroki on a gurney over the ramp to the Blunder and set him up on the upper deck in a nest of blankets. He never stirs, but his face is covered by a sheen of sweat. Wilbur builds a fort around him to protect him from the sun and wind while we take off. Gia sits by his side with medicine, water and food, should he wake. We hope he won’t; it’ll make the journey easier for him. Dragonest is a two-day trip at full speed. We won’t dare go too high, in case the hot-air balloon repairs fail us.

  For two days, I don’t sleep and man the control room and the sails to ensure fast travel. Alara and Gia try to make me rest, but I’m too mad with worry and rage to do anything else but make sure we reach Dragonest in record time.

  Our enemies have taken Harlow to hunt for dragon eggs, and I have no clue where to. He could already be dead for all I know, his smoldering husk left in the Wilds. He could be chained and tortured in the underbelly of their airship.

  I’m a man of action, and there’s nothing that drives me madder than being powerless.

  I finally relent on the second night, only because I need to sit for a moment. Freddy takes the helm, and I go check on Kuroki. The air is cool; we had to fly higher to pass the Fangs. I find Wilbur at Kuroki’s side, holding his good hand. He says nothing as I sit opposite him.

  Our mechanic looks as bad as I do; I don’t think he has slept either. He spent his days hammering below decks to repair the damage to the hull, suspended by ropes, and his nights guarding Kuroki while Gia slept.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask him after a while.

  It looks like he’s close to bursting out of his skin, barely containing his inner demons.

  He takes so long to answer; I thought he was ignoring me. “Angry. So angry. And terrified.”

  I sigh. “Me too.” I’m just better at hiding it.

  “He woke up an hour ago, and when he understood I was the one giving him a drink, he asked for my forgiveness.” Wilbur’s frown is as deep as the mountains below the Blunder, his face twisted in anguish.

  “Forgiveness for what?”

  I already have an idea, but Wilbur needs a little push to exorcize his demons.

  “I…” he struggles, “He kissed me the other day, and I panicked. I don’t fucking know why. One moment, he was kissing me; the next, I was pushing him away, as if his lips on mine were the worst thing that could have happened… When in reality…” He pauses.

  “In reality, you liked it.”

  Wilbur’s eyes shot open, and he stares at me, lost. “I think I do,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t—I’ve never… I’m a mess. I thought I didn’t like being touched. But Kuroki, he…. He’s always invading my personal space, and I… What have I done, Captain? Have I pushed away the only person who tolerates me?”

  I sigh and point a finger at him menacingly. “First of all, he’s not the only one who tolerates you. Open your eyes. We fucking adore you, even if you don’t talk to us more than a word or two a day.” I’ve taken him by surprise, and he looks on the verge of tears. “Second, you have the right to hesitate. We’re not all like Kuroki, who knows exactly what he wants to eat for breakfast every day, what he wants to do in the afternoon, and who he wants to love. Trust me, when he wakes up long enough to get his head straight, he’ll still love you.”

  Shocked silence. Then: “He… loves me?”

  I snort. “Gods, you really are oblivious. Try kissing him the next time he’s awake and see how he reacts.”

  Wilbur’s fingers tighten around Kuroki’s hand, and he brings it to his lips.

  I watch them for a moment, my chest hurting with worry, thinking about Harlow. Four days ago, he was in my bed. I feel like we barely had time together—only a second in a lifetime. I should have been less stubborn from the very first day and given in to my attraction to him.

  If they hurt him… If they take him from me… I swear I’ll hunt every one of them and feed them to dragons.

  “I need coffee,” I say, getting to my feet.

  We reach Dragonest the next day around noon, the summer sun beating down on us and the sky too blue for our distress. The city is nestled at the center of a dead volcano, and I often wondered if it might wake someday and devour Dragonest with the fire from the earth. With our luck, it might even happen today…

  We dock only ever when we have cargo to sell—I don’t like to linger in the royal city. The king who ordered the death of my friends during the Crimson War sits in his grand castle on the hill. But now, as my cousin agonizes on the upper deck and Harlow is missing, I couldn’t care less about kings and previous wars.

  We pay the expensive fee to the dockmaster, and I hire a messenger to find us the address of Harlow’s adoptive father. There can’t be that many surgeons called Prince.

  Two hours later, we’re crossing Dragonest’s busy streets in an expensive car with a liquid-fire engine. Wilbur should have marveled at the invention, but he’s too busy checking on Kuroki’s well-being to care. My cousin woke up long enough this morning to get a drink laced with drugs for the pain. He winked out moments later, without saying a word.

  Gia and Alara stayed to guard the Blunder.

  Dr. Prince works most days at the royal hospital. The staff first refuses to let us see him. He’s a busy man and there’s a list of patients waiting for his intervention, but one mention of his son—and a vial of liquid-fire—and they ready a room for Kuroki.

  Dr. Prince, unsurprisingly, looks nothing like Harlow. He’s tall and burly, looking more like a farmer than a doctor except for the gray blouse of his trade. This is the man who cared for an orphan found on the brink of death, the skin of his back melted by dragonfire. Upon entering, he immediately scans the room, looking for Harlow.

 

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