Reckoning (Book 5) (17 page)

Tressa's wings beat furiously as she propelled herself into the sky. She'd taken back her blood from Donovan, even though the method made her stomach turn. Remembering the satisfaction of biting off his skin erased some of the shame of using her body to trap him. She’d done only what she needed to get her birthright back.

Feeling invincible, Tressa spun in the air, advancing on Donovan, who stood defenseless. His skeletons weren't stepping to his defense. He stood there, calmly, staring at Tressa as she darted toward him.

In the blink of an eye, he transformed into his own dragon and flew toward her. Tressa spun, doubling back, heading toward the clouds. So it was true. He did have Mestifito's dragon. He even looked like his brother, so much that if they’d flown side by side, Tressa wasn't sure she could tell the two dragons apart.

She darted through a wet cloud, droplets streaming off the back of her wings. Tressa came about, waiting for Donovan to make his move. He flew closer, then stopped, flapping his wings to maintain altitude. Tressa eyed him, waiting, guessing what his next move might be. She'd never fought him before, had no idea what sort of training he'd had as a dragon. He could be clumsy or lethal.

She wasn't waiting to find out. Tressa lunged toward him, her teeth bared. Flying as fast as her wings could take her, Tressa reared back, striking Donovan on the neck with her head. He spun around, fighting to stay in the air.

Righting himself, Donovan hurtled at Tressa. She feinted to one side, and he missed by a breath. He recovered quickly, swinging back around and cracking Tressa's head with his. She swiped at him with her talons, catching his eye—the same one that had been scarred in his previous skin.

Donovan howled, and Tressa's jaw split into a wide smile. She'd hurt him, and she wanted to do it again.

She hissed as she sped toward Donovan, her talons out, ready to strike. Donovan spun in the air, nearly swiping her with his tail. The air rushed past her head as she ducked. It had been too close. Tressa backed away, eyeing Donovan from afar.

He took deep, gasping breaths. Was he already tiring? Tressa had never felt more alive, full of vitality. Whether it was the thrill of the battle or getting her dragon back, she wasn't sure. Either way, she knew she had him.

Tressa blew a stream of fire at Donovan, knowing it would do little to hurt him. Their scales protected the flesh underneath from dragonfire. Instead, the flames would irritate his eyes, making it harder for him to see her.

Tressa took advantage of his confusion, taking another swipe at him with her talons. She battered him until Donovan plummeted to the ground, slumping in a great black heap. Tressa cautiously flew closer, looking at his chest, checking for breathing.

His body contracted and expanded slowly. Still alive. Donovan shuddered, then transformed into a human.

This was it. All she had to was breathe fire on him. Roast him alive. It was what he deserved. A slow, painful death.

Only one thing kept her from killing him. Mestifito. What would happen to him if she killed Donovan? Would his dragon be released back to him? Would he be stuck the way he was forever? If there was a chance that keeping Donovan alive meant she could get Mestifito's dragon back for him, she knew she needed to do it. She, better than anyone, understood Mestifito’s sadness at losing his dragon. She wanted to blame him for refusing to help. Months ago, right after she lost her dragon, she would have done the same. She’d been given the time she needed to heal. It was only right to do the same for Mestifito.

With a heavy heart, Tressa changed back into her human form. She kicked Donovan in the side. He rolled over with a grunt.

He looked up at Tressa, his face pained. "I only wanted to make things right. Get rid of the dragons. Bring back my love."

"You're sick, Donovan. The years have twisted your mind into justifying everything you've done. Maybe you were wronged. Maybe your life was ruined. You've spent the last five hundred years trying to hurt everyone else. That will never make up for what was done to you." Tressa tried to dredge up some sympathy, but she couldn't. Despite everything that had happened to her, she couldn't understand how Donovan could justify anything he'd done.

"Help me." Donovan reached up to Tressa, his hand shaking. "Take me to my brother. Let me plead my case before Mestifito."

Tressa stepped on Donovan's arm, forcing his hand back to the ground. "Don't you dare touch me again. You don’t make the decisions anymore. I do. Understand?"

Donovan nodded, his eyes wet. The skin was torn on the eye she'd slashed in the sky. Good. Knowing she'd hurt him gave her some satisfaction. Unfortunately, she hungered for his blood, for his death. She couldn't take his life quite yet. Not until she'd gotten everything she needed from him.

Tressa pushed down harder with her boot. Donovan winced as his bone cracked under her weight. A broken finger wouldn't stop him physically, but it would dull his mind. No one could function properly in that kind of pain.

"You'll do as I say, or I'll kill you," Tressa promised.

Donovan nodded again.

"I'll take you to Mestifito and he will decide your fate. He is your brother. It's only right." Tressa thought of the man who cowered in the Ruins of Ebon, who had refused to help her when she'd begged. He, too, was broken. She looked down at Donovan again.

This was ridiculous. He had hurt and killed so many. Perhaps she should just kill Donovan and be done with it.

"May I say one thing?" Donovan asked, his voice a desperate whisper.

"What?" Tressa asked.

"It's not over. Not even close." Donovan's face contorted into a twisted smile. He opened his mouth and screamed, "Set him free!"

The skeletons, who until that moment had ignored the two of them, set off in a run toward the east.

"Where are they going?" Tressa asked, her heart thumping. She'd been focusing so hard on Donovan, she'd forgotten that she was surrounded by enemies.

Donovan cackled, spittle forming at the corners of his lips. "You'll see. Thank you for sparing my life. You have always been so gullible. So easily swayed."

Tressa kicked Donovan in the head. He slumped to the ground, out, but not dead.

Her eyes followed the skeletons as they clanked and clattered toward a cave. Tressa felt a deep pit in her stomach. On their way to the Meadowlands, Fi had mentioned something about a cave. That was where Donovan kept his greatest ally, the one who thirsted for dragon flesh.

"Decarian," Tressa said under her breath.

A great rumble shook the very ground under her feet. The skeletons hacked at the edges of the cave mouth. Fire spewed from the opening, and tears formed at the edges of Tressa's eyelids. A large fist burst from the cave, punching a dozen skeletons, knocking them to the ground. The roof of the cave exploded. Decarian rose from the underground, as strong and powerful as he'd been when Tressa saw him under the Red castle.

The skeletons raised their weapons, clanking their jaws together. Decarian stood to his full height, dwarfing all beneath him.

Tressa glanced down at Donovan, still out cold. She looked up at Decarian, weighing her options.

She couldn't fight the beast. Not as a human or a dragon. She had no choice. She would have to change into her dragon and flee.

Without another thought, Tressa transformed into her dragon, grabbed Donovan's limp body in her claws and took off for the west, flying as fast as her wings could carry her.

Tressa's wings beat hard, but her heart pounded harder. Decarian was back there. The skeleton army. She was one dragon. One person against a horde that could kill her in seconds. She'd gotten away, but one glance over her shoulder told her they weren't far behind. Dirt kicked up in the air. Shrieks and cackles reached out with wispy fingers. They were coming, and she knew she couldn't fly away forever. Eventually she'd have to stop. She'd have to face them. Then, she would die.

With squinted eyes, Tressa looked into the distance as she banked south toward Hutton's Bridge. It was the only place she could think to go. It was her home. No matter how far she wandered, her heart and soul always rested there. Maybe that was where her friends had gone after she'd been captured.

She scanned the ground, but there was no sign of Bastian and Connor or the army from the Vulture's Tower. She knew they wouldn't have abandoned her unless they had good reason. They were out there somewhere, and she would find them before she grew too weary.

She had to. There wasn't an alternative.

Flying at top speed, Tressa was tiring quickly. It had been months since she'd been able to use her dragon form. She'd lost her stamina while she moped around the Ruins of Ebon. She cursed herself, wishing she'd stayed in better physical condition in preparation for her dragon's return.

It just confirmed what she'd feared: Tressa had never really believed her dragon was coming back.

And yet she'd stolen it from Donovan. It was hers again.

Tressa glided toward the ground. She wasn’t even close to Hutton’s Bridge. Instead, she tired out in the middle of the Dragonlands. There was no one around to help her.

She dropped Donovan onto the soft grass and settled next to him, keeping her dragon form. Tressa rested her snout next to Donovan, who was still passed out. The ground rumbled underneath her belly, telling her Donovan's army was close behind.

She looked to the west, defeated. There was nothing left for her now. Her friends had left. Granna had refused to rally the Black to her side. The Green had deserted the Meadowlands. The ghost dragons had disappeared days ago without warning.

She couldn't blame any of them. They all had so much to lose. What did Tressa have left? Nothing. Perhaps it was always her fate to die at the hands of the enemy. At least the others had time to get away. As long as some were saved, her efforts were not in vain.

She took a deep breath, then let out a puff of smoke from her nostrils. Donovan stirred, then came to, his eyes focused on hers.

"Please, Tressa,” he croaked. “Listen to reason. You will die. It is inevitable. You cannot fight my minions alone. Change back into a human. Allow me to have your skin. It will be well cared for. Well-loved. You will live on." Donovan sat up, his strength growing with every breath.

Tressa changed back into her human form. "I'd rather set myself on fire and burn alive than allow you to use my skin."

Donovan shrugged. "I can find another skin, but I'd prefer to use yours." He reached out a hand toward her, then snapped it back. His fingers skimmed his lip where she'd bitten him. "My Magda was sweet, but she could use some of your spirit. It’s a shame I can’t keep that part of you, too."

"You're sick," Tressa said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You should have let the poor woman go when she died."

Donovan's face fell. "But I love her. I'm only trying to make up for my mistakes."

Tressa sized up the man. His logic was twisted beyond understanding.

The rumbling under Tressa's feet grew more insistent. Donovan’s army was almost upon them. Perhaps this was to be her end, then. Exhausted, Tressa turned her back on Donovan and walked away.

"You can't hide," Donovan sputtered after her. "We will find you, and I will have your skin whether you want it or not. You will live on, Tressa."

She ignored his insane rambling. No amount of arguing would change his mind. She jumped, turning into her dragon. If he wanted her skin, then the only skin he would get was her dragon scales. He would never have her human skin.

Tressa came about to face Donovan. Wings flapping, she opened her jaws and took a deep breath, but before she could let out a stream of fire on the man, a voice in her head stopped her.

Tressa!

Bastian?
Tressa whirled around. Bastian's magnificent Green dragon stood on the ground behind her, Connor's sapphire one next to him.

You aren't alone,
Bastian said.

The air shimmered behind Bastian and the Vulture's Tower army came into view, thousands of them on horseback, their gray cloaks flapping in the breeze.

But that wasn't all. To their right flank, Granna sat on a tall, black horse, surrounded by a phalanx of warriors on horseback, swords in their hands. Black dragons flew in the rear. Behind them, a Yellow dragon advanced above another long line of warriors on foot, spears and shields at the ready. There were even a few Red dragons.

If Tressa had been in her human form, she might have shed a few tears. They'd come. All of them. Bastian, Connor, Granna and the Black, and the Red, as well as Destrian from the Yellow and his warriors. Her keen eyes scanned the ranks, noticing a small cluster of men in black cloaks. The Black Guard from Ashoom. It was everyone. Well, everyone except the Green.

A cry in the distance pulled the eyes of everyone gathering before Tressa. A cloud of dark emerald grew closer until Tressa could make out the shapes of individual dragons. Hundreds of them flying from the northwest, far more than the numbers she’d seen in The Outpost. They came back. But how?

The Green! They're here!
Tressa thought to Bastian.
You did this?

I may have had something to do with it.
Bastian said.
We badgered everyone until they agreed to help. It took a great deal of coercion and time.

Time?
Tressa asked.
It hasn’t been long enough for you to travel to each of them. How did you manage it?

Bastian’s giant jaws parted, revealing a toothy dragon grin.
It took a very long time. I’ll explain later.

Another dragon landed next to Connor and nuzzled him. Their necks wound around each other with genuine affection. It had to be Hazel. Tressa had heard her old friend was a dragon now, too.

Avital, Jarrett's brother, pulled up on his horse alongside Tressa.

She changed into human form, standing next to the man who had threatened to kill her in defense of his brother.

"I am sorry I didn't trust you before," he said, offering her his hand. "My love for my brother clouded my vision. I couldn't believe he had been turned to evil, and I had only you to blame."

"I understand." Tressa leaned over, kissing Avital's cheek. He and Jarrett had shared the same mother. They'd been close their whole lives. "I don't blame you for the way you acted. I loved your brother, as well. I am so happy you came here to fight with us."

Avital nodded, backing his horse up, leaving Tressa’s attention on the battle. The time for pleasantries had come to an end. Donovan's army was coming at them fast. Skeletons brandishing swords. Kilrothgi, the giant hairy beasts that once lived in the fog outside Hutton's Bridge. Around them were undulating shadows. The shades. Rock gollums lumbered behind, waving huge cudgels. Decarian brought up the rear, a sickening grin on his huge face. His four horns glinted under the light of the blood moon.

Donovan had regained enough strength to change into his dragon while Tressa’s back was turned. He flew away from them toward Decarian's forked tongue. Tressa wished Decarian wouldn't recognize his master and would eat him instead, but sadly that didn't seem likely. Donovan pulled up alongside Decarian, his body barely larger than Decarian's massive head.

Tressa ran to Granna and Mestifito. She stopped alongside them, out of breath.

"If Donovan dies, will you get your dragon back?" she asked Mestifito.

"No. It is Donovan's to control now." Mestifito looked to Granna, her silver hair streaming down her back. "I will not regret being a human for the rest of my life if it means I get to live it with Sophia."

Granna laughed. "I am an old woman."

"I am over five hundred years old," Mestifito said. "Your age won't bother me."

The couple’s affection in the face of death amused Tressa. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the patience for it now. "Then I have your blessing to kill your brother?" Tressa asked Mestifito.

His eyes steeled. "If I don't kill him first."

Tressa nodded, jumping into the sky and taking flight as her dragon.

Mestifito’s permission was all she needed. Now nothing stood in her way. Donovan would die.

Tressa let forth a stream of fire, punctuated by a roar from deep in her belly.

She was answered by the clanking of the skeletons’ weapons and Decarian's laughter.

Now the battle for the Dragonlands would begin. Tressa hoped those she loved would still be standing at the end.