Enemy of the Realm Read online

  “It seems that Furies make people nervous.”

  “It makes me nervous too sometimes.”

  The two of them started walking again. Dree glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

  “You are as red as Helvath.”

  “I am not.”

  “You’re as bad as Brian.”

  They reached their workshop cavern, where the nearly complete Teen Hybrid sat in the middle of the room, facing the entrance. She had both wings now and even a formed head, along with three of four limbs. Jack was still working on some of the wiring, and he didn’t even notice them come in.

  “Think she will win this war for us?” Marcus asked, eyeing the machine guns.

  Dree nodded. “She’ll help. Not bad for a week’s work. I’m going to put the last leg on—”

  She was interrupted by a massive boom that shook the ground beneath them, echoing through the caves like thunder. Dree nearly stumbled, just barely catching herself, and then looked at Marcus.

  This explosion was not like the ones before.

  This one had come from inside the caverns.

  Chapter

  15

  Marcus and Dree sprinted downward through the tunnels, and they heard shouting and the deep grumble of dragons’ voices coming from all sides as everyone converged on the noise. Marcus struggled to keep up with the fleet-footed Dree, feeling his sides burning with a cramp. They turned the corner into another large open chamber, and both of them slid to a halt.

  “Rochin?” Dree whispered.

  Her brother was standing in the middle of the cavern, a strange weapon perched on his shoulder. It looked like some sort of crude rocket launcher—a gleaming black metal chamber and a two-foot barrel that extended out in front of him like the gun of a tank. And there, sitting in the weapon’s open chamber, was the Egg, pulsating with red-and-orange fire and filling the rocket launcher with its deadly energy.

  But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  About fifty feet away, lying on the ground, was Vero. A great, charred hole had been blasted into the crimson scales on her chest, and she was motionless, her wings spread out limply across the cavern.

  Dree rushed forward and snatched the Egg out of Rochin’s weapon, turning away from him and cradling it. Marcus could see the rage in her eyes as she turned back, and little flames played on her skin.

  “What is this?” she demanded.

  Rochin backed away. “She . . . she attacked. I had to stop her.”

  “Where did you get that gun?” She clenched her fist and took a step toward him. “Francis?”

  Rochin was still backing away. “He told me . . . if I got the Egg . . . you would all be spared. He was going to name me to the Ruling Council. There’s no hope for us, Dree. It was my chance to be something.”

  “You betrayed your own family?” Dree asked, shaking.

  Marcus walked up behind her, feeling her tangible anger. Rochin was still backing away.

  “Help,” Vero moaned, her voice cracking and soft.

  Dree and Marcus glanced over and saw that the red dragon was trying to get up but couldn’t. Without thinking, both of them rushed over to help. Marcus looked at the injury—it was far worse than Emmett’s.

  “Stay still,” Marcus said. “You’ve been injured.”

  “Yes,” she said in her low, gravelly voice. “Fatally, I believe. He . . . he has the Egg. You have to get it back.”

  “I have it,” Dree said. “It’s okay.”

  Behind them, humans and dragons rushed into the room. They heard an awful roar and saw Nolong rush inside, his eyes on Vero. Dree and Marcus stepped back to let him crouch down beside her.

  “What happened?” Abelard demanded.

  Dree whirled to find her brother, but he was gone. “Rochin,” she spat. “He had a weapon. Francis sent him to get the Egg. Vero tried to stop him.”

  Nolong made a low noise in his throat and tried to breathe his rippling golden fire on the wound.

  Vero stopped him. “It’s too late,” she managed. “In the next life, my love.”

  Marcus saw the life suddenly drain out of her, and her head fell back. Her great crimson body relaxed on the floor as Nolong closed his eyes and laid his head on hers, silent.

  The whole room watched, stunned into silence.

  “So many years to find each other again,” Nolong said quietly. “And now she is gone.”

  Marcus felt his eyes well with tears. Sages had a great power to bring joy and peace, but when they suffered, everyone around them could feel it.

  Dree turned to Marcus. “We need to find my brother.”

  Marcus quickly followed her out of the cavern, and they searched through the winding passages, calling out for Rochin. But it was in vain . . . he had likely planned his escape well in advance. Even now he was probably on his way back to Dracone—without the Egg, but with Vero’s blood on his hands.

  Dree clenched her fists again, letting the fire dance up her arms. “I’m going after him.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Lourdvang!” she shouted. “We’re going!”

  They started for the nearest exit from the mountain. Lourdvang and Erdath had shown them the many secret openings that pockmarked Forost like a monstrous honeycomb. When they reached the opening, tucked beneath an overhanging crevice, Lourdvang appeared from another tunnel. He was not alone. Erdath was walking with him, looking solemn. They stepped right in front of Dree and Marcus.

  “Leave him,” Lourdvang said quietly.

  “What?” Dree asked.

  “We don’t need a prisoner right now. And in your anger, you might do something you regret.”

  “He killed Vero!” Marcus said.

  “Yes,” Erdath said. “And he will have to live with that. Let him run with his burden.”

  Erdath and Lourdvang exchanged a look, and then Lourdvang lowered himself to face them directly.

  “This is the influence of the Egg,” he said. “It is why Erdath was so worried about our mission to retrieve it. It is too powerful, too unpredictable. Rochin’s weapon could never have killed Vero without the Egg’s energy. With it, she had no chance.”

  “That’s why we have to use it,” Marcus said. “It’s the only thing strong enough to stop Francis!”

  “And what if Francis gets the Egg?” Erdath asked, looking down at him.

  Marcus flushed. “We won’t let that happen.”

  Dree looked at Marcus, hesitating. Marcus scowled. “You agree with them?”

  “My brother just killed a massive Flame with the Egg’s power. Imagine what Francis could do with it.”

  Marcus shook his head and turned away. “We need it to win. Ask your father and the other fighters.”

  “I’m sure they will agree with you,” Lourdvang said. “But that doesn’t mean they’re right.”

  “This time they are,” Marcus said stubbornly.

  He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation after everything they had gone through to get the Egg. They had nearly been killed in the attempt, and George was now sitting in a CIA cell because of that mission. Not to mention they had just spent the last week building a hybrid that relied on the Egg to have any hope of defeating the drones. They had pinned everything on that hope.

  “You’re all upset about Vero,” Marcus said. “I am too. But we have to stick to the plan.”

  Dree put a calming hand on Marcus’s arm. “Okay. Let’s get back to the hybrid.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Lourdvang said. “Erdath and I will make sure all our guards are in place.”

  Dree took Marcus’s hand and led him back to the cavern, and Marcus felt better with her familiar, comforting presence next to him. They walked in silence for a while, and Marcus glanced at her.

  “Sorry I got a little heated,” he murm
ured.

  Dree nodded. “I don’t blame you . . . I’m just as angry as you are. My brother is a coward. And Vero . . . she was very brave. It’s a terrible loss . . . I just want to make sure there aren’t any more of them.” When they reached the chamber, she squeezed his hand and turned to go. “I’d better go talk to my mother.”

  “Good luck,” Marcus said, watching her hurry off. The loss of Vero sat deep in his gut.

  He joined Jack at the hybrid, and his uncle popped his head out of the hull, covered in grease.

  “What was that noise?” he called.

  “A traitor,” Marcus said quietly. “Rochin was working for Francis.”

  “What?” Jack said, dropping a tool into the hybrid. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  “He almost got the Egg. He . . . he killed Vero. I saw her die. She was trying to get up . . . and Nolong tried, but it was too late.”

  Jack climbed out of the hull, somber. “I’m sorry to hear that, Marcus.”

  “She had just found Nolong again. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  Jack put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Death doesn’t seem to care about what’s fair. I was away on a business trip when my mother died. I was always with her before that. I went there every night to bring her dinner, or mow the grass, or just sit and talk. My brother lived far away, and my father was already dead, so I was all she had left. And then I was asked to go overseas for a demonstration. Some new technology I had designed. I didn’t want to go, but she told me that my career had to come first. So I left . . . just for a week.”

  Marcus had never heard him speak of his mother before.

  “She died while I was gone,” Jack said. “I was heartbroken. I wasn’t there for her.” He put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “But life goes on, Marcus. It went on for me. It went on for your father after your mother was killed. And all the death here, everything you’ve seen, you can’t let it stop you.”

  Marcus looked away. “Sometimes it just seems like too much . . . you know?”

  “That’s why you have friends,” he replied. “And even a tired old uncle.”

  Marcus smiled. “Thanks. I guess we don’t really have time for mourning.”

  “There will be time. But Vero, your mother, my mother—they would tell us to get to work.”

  “You’re probably right. The battle is drawing closer.”

  Jack ducked back into the hull. “Then you had better get those machine guns online,” he called.

  Marcus snorted. “You know, most uncles probably wouldn’t encourage that.”

  “I’m not most uncles. And you’re not most nephews.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Marcus ducked down to start on the machine gun, connecting the circuitry to the computer core. As he worked, he thought back to his conversation with Dree. Something was nagging at him about it . . . Dree almost never gave up on an argument. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever winning one with her. Ever. She was as stubborn as dirt, and yet she had stopped arguing.

  Had she been lying to him? No. Dree would never do that. They were a team.

  He connected a wire into a power cell, and suddenly the huge, black barrel of the machine gun began to whir. The magazine inside clicked into place. Before Marcus could shout a warning, the gun unloaded a hail of bullets into the cavern wall, biting deep into the rock. Jack ducked in alarm and fell off the side of the hybrid, covering his head.

  Marcus quickly pulled out the wire, and the machine gun fell silent.

  He stared at it, stunned. “I think I’d better program that computer core first.”

  Jack stood up again, rubbing his tailbone and scowling. “Good idea.”

  Chapter

  16

  Lourdvang soared over the Teeth, the craggy, snow-blasted peaks reaching up toward his wings like grasping claws. They were flying dangerously low—just over the mountains or dropping into the valleys and twisting through the range, riding air currents and sending the surviving birds scattering.

  Dree knew they had to try to stay out of view of any Flames for as long as possible. They needed to speak to Helvath directly—and he might have given orders to kill her and Lourdvang on sight. He had let them go last time, but he had been very clear that they were never to return, and while Dree now knew that she was likely immune to Helvath’s flames, the enormous dragon would have no problem tearing her apart.

  A satchel was tucked over Dree’s shoulder, flapping in the wind, and there was a very valuable piece of cargo inside. In fact, that cargo was their only chance for leaving this place alive. She knew Marcus would be furious, but she also knew he would never agree to give up the Egg. Neither would her father or Nathaniel. But Erdath and Lourdvang were right: They were dragons, after all, and they understood better than anyone the power and danger of the Egg. It was a power that humans had no right to wield. She shuddered to think what would have happened if Rochin had managed to get the Egg back to Francis.

  The Egg had to go back where it belonged . . . where only Marcus’s father had ever managed to get his hands on it.

  It had to go to Arncrag, the home of the Flames.

  “We’re taking a big risk going to see him again,” Lourdvang said, not for the first time.

  He had wanted to send Teen Hybrid to deliver it, or take it himself. But Teen Hybrid wasn’t ready to fly yet, and Dree wasn’t about to let Lourdvang go alone. So here they were.

  “I know. But I think the Egg should keep him calm. Besides, Helvath deserves to know about Vero.”

  Lourdvang snarled. “If he hadn’t exiled her, she’d still be alive.”

  “And Francis would have the Egg,” Dree pointed out. “She stopped Rochin, Lourdvang. Don’t let her death be in vain.”

  Lourdvang paused. “We’re getting close.”

  Dree looked up and saw Arncrag rising out of the monolithic Teeth—the tallest of all the mountains. It looked to have been carved by wind and flame, jagged and sharp like a much-used fang, its soaring peak rising almost to the clouds. She tightened her hold a little on Lourdvang’s scales. She had almost been killed twice at Arncrag already. Maybe three times really was pushing their luck.

  “We have company,” Lourdvang muttered.

  Two massive Flames, each of them twice the size of Lourdvang, had taken off from their posts on the tops of two other mountains. They swept toward them instantly, flanking them on either side.

  “You are trespassing,” one of them growled. “Why are you here?”

  “We wish to speak to Helvath,” Lourdvang called out. “We have a gift for him.”

  The dragon laughed—a low, cruel sound. “It had better be a good one. He is hungry lately.”

  The two dragons guided them to the great entrance of Arncrag, and Lourdvang landed gently on the barren outcropping. Dree hopped off, and together they walked under the towering archway, still flanked by the two sentries. The Flames stopped at the opening, and Lourdvang and Dree entered alone.

  Helvath was sitting on his massive stone dais. His great black claws were wrapped around the front of the dais, and his equally black eyes—looking as malicious and hungry as ever—watched as Lourdvang and Dree entered. To his left sat the smaller, pinkish female dragon, whom Dree recognized from the last time they had visited Helvath. That dragon had always seemed even crueller than Helvath. Dree tried not to tremble as they approached the dais.

  “You two are tempting fate,” Helvath boomed. “Twice I have let you live, when my laws are clear: Enter these lands and die. But a third time? Now you have gone too far, worm and his Rider.”

  Lourdvang bristled, but Dree laid a calming hand on his side.

  “We have come for a good reason,” Dree said.

  Helvath smiled, flames licking out through his teeth. “I hope so. I am ever so hungry of late. Those machines are chasing away much of my dinner. Was I
not just saying that, Vicar?”

  The smaller, pinkish dragon stared at Dree. “I believe you were.”

  Dree swung her satchel around and quickly removed the Egg. Helvath straightened.

  “I offer you a gift,” she said. “The return of the Egg to its rightful home.”

  Helvath looked at her carefully, his great black eyes betraying nothing. Then he extended a large, clawed hand toward her, and she put the Egg in his scaled palm. She saw radiant fire leap from the Egg, as if awakened by his touch. There were a few other Flames standing in the shadows, and she saw them all watching in fascination. Their growling voices echoed around the room.

  Helvath stared at the Egg for a long time, closing his hand on it. Fire crept through his fingers.

  “Where did you find it?” he said, almost in a whisper.

  “The man who stole it hid it in another world. I went there and got it back.”

  Helvath eyed Dree suspiciously. “And you offer it to me, despite its obvious power. Why?”

  Dree met his fierce gaze. “Because we have seen that power, and also the harm it can do. It is not right for us to use it, and I have to make sure it doesn’t fall into Francis’s hands. I trust that you will keep it safe.”

  Helvath thought about that for a moment and then nodded.

  “This is a worthy gift, young Rider. Enough that I will let you leave unscathed. Now go.”

  Dree didn’t move. “There is more. Vero is dead . . . killed by someone using the Egg.”

  Helvath and Vicar both immediately stood straighter, gnashing their teeth. “Dead?”

  “Yes. The enemy that we face is strong. Strong enough even to kill a Flame like Vero. We need your help, Helvath. We need the Flames for the coming war. If you don’t help us, we are going to be outmatched. And don’t be foolish—once the drones are done with us, you’ll be next. Francis will turn his army on you as well. By helping us stop them, you protect yourselves too. Please.”

  Dree heard some of the other Flames muttering again, including Vicar, and she saw them all looking at Helvath, who seemed to be taking stock of Dree. He flexed his clawed hands, clearly distraught by the news of Vero’s death, and for a moment she thought he might agree to help them fight.