The Dragon (Creasan #2)

Thea’s head whipped in the roar’s direction. It was so loud that all of Yezahn quaked at its sound. Much like when she’d seen Aestus, Thea had to cover her ears against the sheer power of the roar. She saw many of her friends do the same, Carac cringing hardest of all and curling in on himself.

Thea met Fendrel’s eyes and she saw the realization settle in him at the same time it did in her—Malum was here.

Merek shouted over the roar, “It’s too early!”

No one bothered pointing out that it didn’t matter anymore.

The roaring subsided and Fendrel unsheathed his sword. “Come on.”

They nodded, pulled out their weapons, and took off out of Cylva’s house.

Thea didn’t allow her feet to stutter the way they wanted to when she first caught sight of Malum. He wasn’t in the city, but instead he was looming over it. His incredibly long wings stretched along the horizon and smoke billowed out of his nostrils as he glared down at something.

As Thea drew closer she realized it was Ana. “Fendrel,” she shouted and pointed.

“Shit,” he hissed and sprinted faster.

When they were just yards away, they screeched to a halt. Malum’s head swung to them, and it made Thea’s blood freeze in her veins. Here he was, whatever everyone in the world feared most, and he was seething right at Thea. It took everything in her not to cower.

Thea saw Ana trembling on the ground at Malum’s feet and sent out a little prayer of thanks that she didn’t appear injured. Thea’s fingers tightened on her sword’s hilt.

Then she bolted toward the dragon.

She saw his tail come swinging toward her, and she threw herself to the ground just a second before it would have slammed into her. Sand filled her mouth, but she spit it out, pushed herself to her feet, and ran again.

She could feel her friends running behind her, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t; if she lost focus for even a second, she would be doomed.

Malum’s tail came for her again and Thea was prepared this time. She swung her sword with all her might at it. Malum roared in anger and pain, even as her sword mostly bounced off save for a tiny knick in the dragon’s scales. She allowed herself a bit of pride at that.

And it was like something was unleashed in Thea.

Gone was the fear and horror. They were replaced by precision, confidence, training. Thea stopped seeing the legendary Malum and started seeing a beast in need of being put down. And she could do that.

Thea reached Malum’s talons and without a second thought, she staked her sword into his foot. Hard.

Malum shrieked but Thea pushed it down harder still. She interlocked her fingers and pounded down on the hilt, hammering it home.

She didn’t see Malum’s wing thrust forward until it was too late. It rammed into her with enough force to crack a rib, sending her flying through the air. Thea’s stomach plummeted as she fell.

She landed hard on her back, a searing agony shooting through her every nerve ending. Her vision blurred momentarily and her breath was sucked out of her, leaving her gasping like a shored fish.

“Thea?”

Thea turned toward the voice, blinking hard, and when her vision refocused, she found Ana still lying there, staring at Thea with concern and terror.

Thea wheezed as she caught her breath. She didn’t need Isolde to know great damage had been done to her insides, but she didn’t have time to think about that. So she just grunted, “Sword.” Thea struggled to sit up. Every breath scraped razors against her lungs, but she knew she had to keep going.

“Thea, are you—“

“Sword!”

Ana scrambled to hand over her blade.

Thea took it and used it as a cane to push herself up. The pain was so debilitating that her knees nearly gave out and her vision swam again, but she locked her joints in place and forced her head up.

The scene in front of her was horrific.

Sepi had tried to go straight for Malum’s heart but had been impaled by one of Malum’s talons. Thea could see the claw disappearing into his back and reemerging from his stomach.

Merek and Brom had tried to continue what Thea had started by staking Malum’s tail into the ground. Merek straddled the tail, trying to hold it in place, while Brom tried to pin it down, but it was nearly impossible; Malum was swinging his tail back and forth, trying to dislodge them. Both men had blood running down their faces, but neither one appeared ready to give up.

Fendrel and Carac were trying to scale the beast, while Anai and Peronell struggled to strike a blow to Malum’s midsection. But the dragon’s scales were armor, and other than a few scrapes, they didn’t accomplish much.

Thea watched as Isolde let out a demonic hiss, her fangs dropping down, her strange eyes flashing like the Leitham Serpent’s had, and leapt forward. She appeared to defy gravity as she catapulted through the air and landed on Malum’s shoulder. Without missing a beat, she plunged her teeth into the scales and locked her jaw.

Malum squirmed and roared. The dragon pulled hard enough that the talon Thea had staked came free—sword still impaled. He grabbed for Isolde, talons wrapping around her and wrenching her away. He tossed her aside.

“Izzy!” Thea shouted, limping heavily back into the fray.

Isolde landed close to Sepi, but she wasn’t down for long. Blood drenched her clothes, but it was as if she didn’t even feel it. She was sprinting for Malum again, heading for his stomach.

Thea swung her crossbow forward and brought Lief’s calming voice to mind. Three breaths. In and out. And as she’d always done, she followed that mantra, aiming her arrow at Malum’s nose. Where she could stall him but not kill him. The kill had to go to Fendrel.

But as she let her arrow fly, Malum moved, and her arrow ended up lodged in the center of his head, between his eyes.

Malum screamed and turned his burning gaze to her. Thea geared up to take a second shot, but before she could react, Isolde had propelled herself through the air again and landed squarely on the dragon’s snout. At the same time, Fendrel and Carac reached the top of Malum’s skull.

Isolde managed to climb up Malum’s face, to reach his left eye. Then she shouted up to Carac, “Help!”

Carac somehow knew exactly what that meant because he slid down the beast’s forehead, landed beside Isolde, grabbed one of Malum’s eyelids and staked his sword into it, pinning it to the beast’s forehead. Isolde grabbed the bottom lid and looked at Fendrel. “Now, Fendrel!“

In the chaos, no one noticed Ana scream, “No!” Or the way Brom’s head snapped in her direction. His eyes darted between the queen and the prince, two people who promised the Guard everything he could have possibly wanted in exchange for his help.

In Brom’s moment of hesitation, Malum roared impossibly louder, making all of them cringe. Isolde and Carac lost their footing and plummeted down to the sand, sprawling beside Anai who was dragging an unconscious Sepi out of the way.

The dragon’s tail whipped out, and Merek and Brom lost their hold as it swung wide, swiping both them and Peronell to the side. They went sailing through the air in a wide arc before Merek slammed into a lonely palm tree with a solid thwack, and they all hit the sand. Brom and Peronell looked around groggily, but Merek didn’t move.

Fendrel’s hold stayed firm and Malum’s eye remained yawning open, Carac’s sword not budging. The prince was staring with wide eyes at the scene, like he’d gone into shock.

Why wasn’t he doing anything?

Thea dropped her crossbow and gripped Ana’s sword tightly as she forced herself to hobble closer. Luckily, Isolde and Carac were back on their feet and doing a great job of distracting the dragon, giving Thea the opportunity to grab hold of Malum’s scales and climb up.

Every movement she made, every gasp she had no choice but to draw, every beat her heart thrummed made her feel like she was dying. Dark spots filled her vision, but she didn’t care. She insisted that her arm reach up and pull her higher. She tried to focus on Lief’s mantra instead of the way her insides were tearing her apart.

In…

Out…

In…

Out…

And then she was lying on her stomach beside Fendrel at the top of Malum’s head. She’d never seen the prince like this before, his face so pale and his blue eyes nearly black with the storm raging inside them. His knuckles were white from how hard he was holding onto Malum’s scales.

Without energy to create a voice, Thea breathed her demand, “What are you doing?”

Fendrel opened his mouth to respond—

Malum quaked beneath them, and Thea fell forward, sliding down the dragon’s face, a path of fire blazing up her back. The pain was so intense that she blacked out momentarily.

When she came to again, she was lying on her back on top of Malum’s snout and gazing up at Fendrel as he peered over the edge of the dragon’s forehead. He was yelling something down at her, but she couldn’t make it out. She couldn’t make anything out for that matter; all sounds were muted as if she were hearing them under water. Drowned out by the rushing of blood in her ears.

Turning her head slightly, she could see Malum’s watering red eye was still pinned open. His eyes had been ferocious before, but from where Thea had landed, not a few feet away from them, they were enough to hold her captive in a state of terror.

“Thea! Thea, can you hear me?!” It was Fendrel again, and this time Thea could hear him.

Thea struggled to her feet. They shook and trembled under her, and she felt as if she couldn’t catch her breath. But she was standing, and that was something.

“It should be you!” Fendrel screamed.

Thea frowned.

“Do it, Thea,” he urged. “Do it now!”

She shook her head. Her mind was moving sluggishly and she couldn’t comprehend his words. She could only manage a croaked, “What?”

“You should be the leader of Creasan,” he repeated, “not me. Do it. Kill Malum.” He didn’t look sad or resigned or jealous or anything else Thea would have expected. In fact, he looked assured. Certain. Encouraging.

She started, “I don’t under—“

“Just do it, Thea! Here.” He tossed his sword down to her and it landed beside her feet.

Thea stared at it. At the decoration which boasted the emblem of a dragon being pierced with a lance. Fendrel’s family crest. It was so clearly a Lance blade, and he wanted her to use it to make herself king.

Unsteady and shaking, Thea reached for the sword. Gripped it tightly and looked back up at Fendrel. He nodded at her and she could see the words in his eyes even as she heard them reverberate in her skull: I would happily follow you.

Drawing as deep a breath as she dared, she turned back to the gaping eye in front of her.

Malum had stopped struggling, had stopped fighting. His breaths huffed out of him heavily, but he simply gazed back at Thea. She could see where a trail of blood looked out of the stake in his eyelid and it made her shudder.

A solid blow through the eye. She knew it would kill him. All it would take was a single, sure blow through the eye.

Thea’s arm wrapped around her midsection, literally holding herself together. Then she lifted her arm in the air, gritting her teeth hard enough to shatter them as agony ripped through her entire body, making her knees buckle. But she steeled herself and lurched forward—

Please, Wyvern.

Thea jolted to a standstill. Frozen. Eyes bulging as she stared into Malum’s eye. She’d heard his voice in her head, just like she had when Aestus had spoken to her.

She tilted her head up to Fendrel, but he was just gazing at her in confusion. “What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Do it! End this!”

Mercy. Please, Wyvern, have mercy.

Fendrel didn’t hear it. No one below heard it.

Only Thea heard it.

Malum continued drawing measured breaths, sat peacefully, but his eye glimmered sadly in front of her. His voice…His voice didn’t sound how she expected Malum’s to sound. It wasn’t harsh or deep or dark, like Aestus’s was. It was soft and smooth and gentle. It wasn’t a deafening presence but a subtle whisper.

Thea’s arm faltered above her head as she asked, “How do you know who I am? How can I understand you?”

The dragon’s sad eye filled with despair and pain. You know me, too, Wyvern.

She flinched as if he’d slapped her, shaking her head in bewilderment. “I…”

Fendrel shouted again, “Thea!”

Many humans have turned on me, the dragon continued. I move from one place to the next, but they have forgotten me. Fear me. I have had to defend myself, Wyvern. They attacked me, and I caused destruction, but that is not what I want. That is not why I have come.

“Why have you come?”

Thea didn’t dare glance up, didn’t dare to look at Fendrel’s face. She knew he could tell she was speaking with the beast. Knew he would be aghast to see her hesitating.

The dragon gazed sadly. Disappointedly. You think it, too, don’t you? You think I have returned to set the realm ablaze in a hot white burn.

Thea’s heart was thundering in her chest. Those familiar words…She knew them. She knew Aestus was meant to return, that he would light up the world in a white burn if it was not a Lance sitting on the throne. But it was Malum saying those words…

Oh, dear Wyvern, he sighed, like he could read her thoughts, I am not Malum.

The air rushed out of her as it all landed on her in the space between one heart beat and the next. Her arm dropped uselessly at her side, and she stared into the glimmering red eye. Her voice was a stunned whisper when she said, “You’re Aestus.”

The dragon—Aestus—nodded softly, gently, so as not to knock her over. The eye Thea had thought so horrifying now seemed kind, the monster she thought she was meant to vanquish suddenly seemed helpless, the foe she had perceived suddenly seemed a friend.

And I have not come to burn, Aestus said. You have forgotten the words of my promise. It was never a “white burn.” His eye seared into her, imploring her to believe, Creasan will be set ablaze by a Wyvern.

Her arm fell uselessly to her side as her thoughts screeched to a halt. “What does…”

I have returned, Aestus said, for you, Wyvern. For the true ruler of Creasan—

The ground dropped out from under her as something huge slammed into Aestus. Thea was suddenly falling, the wind hissing past her ears on her way down.

She landed with a grunt, her bones quaking with the impact. That pain she’d somehow forgotten ripped through her again, lacing every nerve ending with fire.

A groan beside her alerted Thea to Fendrel’s presence. He had fallen next to her, and the back of his head was slick with blood. His dazed eyes rolled in his head a moment before they sharpened and turned to Thea. “What happened?”

She wasn’t sure if he was referring to her conversation with the dragon or their fall, but she didn’t have the energy to respond. Thea tried to sit up, but pain flared and she fell back with a cry.

Fendrel struggled up to his feet, cringing hard as he did, and pulled Thea up with him. She leaned heavily against the prince and felt—more than heard—his gasp.

Thea looked up to find two dragons wrestling in the sand in front of them. One red, one black. They roared and blew flames at each other, making Thea’s ear drums rattle.

Their wings flapped, sending out a gust of wind and making sand scrape across Thea’s face. Another flap, and the dragons were in the air, taking their battle into the sky.

Fendrel was breathy as he said, “Aestus has come to save us.”

Thea shook her head as spots danced across her eyes. Those spots didn’t go away like last time; in fact, they were becoming more insistent. She felt like she was on the verge of unconsciousness again. But she was able to say, “That’s not Aestus. That is.” She pointed to the dragon they’d come to attack a split second before she went limp.

Fendrel caught her, falling to the ground with her. But his eyes were incredibly wide as he stared at the two dragons rising higher and higher into the air. His gaze had locked onto the black dragon that he’d just spent the better part of an hour climbing. He swore as he made sense of Thea’s words.

They hadn’t attacked Malum.

They’d been working for him.

When the dragons had crashed into each other, the impact had thrown Isolde and Carac in separate directions, and Isolde had lost sight of Carac.

Isolde’s ears rang with a high-pitched gonging and the inside of her mouth tingled and throbbed, like she’d eaten an especially hot spice. She knew it was from the venom she’d been spewing into Malum.

Even though her body was demanding respite, even though her muscles groaned in protest, she raised herself onto her elbows and looked up.

She’d never seen such a sight. Two dragons circling each other in the air, grappling, their giant razor teeth tearing at each other’s flesh.

And fire.

With each burst of flames, some molten embers the size of boulders fell down to the sand.

Though she’d already been sweating, this new heat that accompanied the falling flames drenched her face and made her skin burn a bright red. But it also…made Isolde feel awake.

She couldn’t explain it, struggled to describe the feeling of total alertness. It filled her, as if she’d been drowning and had finally gotten her head above the surface. Her vision was sharper than it had ever been, the edges of every object so distinct she thought she could make out each grain of sand. And her nose filled with overpowering aromas—the sulphur of falling fire, the iron of running blood, the saltiness of sweat. It surrounded her, saturated her.

So when her gaze landed on Merek, when she saw the unnatural bend to his back, when she saw the blood running down his temple, down his stomach, it was so visceral that she nearly vomited right then and there. And he was lying helplessly, eyes closed, as a core of fire landed mere yards away.

Isolde ignored the burn in her legs as she crawled across the sand. She reached out a wavering hand and touched his foot. She clambered closer, on top of him, using her body as a shield against the falling debris. She knew that if anything did land on her, they’d both be dead, but she shoved that thought deep in the back of her mind.

She held his face in her hands. “Merek!” She wanted to shake him, force his eyes open, but she was frightened that any movement she cause could make his injuries worse. All her lessons as a Healer seemed to have fled as she stared down at him in panic. Distantly, she recognized he was breathing, but she couldn’t manage to think of much else. She leaned closer and shouted, “Merek! Merek, wake up!”

But he didn’t. He didn’t so much as twitch.

Another fireball landed, this time closer, sending a wave of sand spraying over them. Isolde curved her body around Merek and squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught. It slammed into her body hard, nearly knocking her off of him. But she anchored her hands in the ground and gritted her teeth as the sand scraped across her skin.

When she finally dared to look up again, deep, unadulterated fury lit her strange serpent eyes. Without really thinking, Isolde reached for Merek’s fallen blade.

She didn’t hear Fendrel’s cry of, “Izzy, no!” until it was too late—Isolde shot the weapon through the air, aimed straight at the black dragon. The blade that had pinned open his eye was gone, but that didn’t matter; his eyes were gaping open as he slashed and tore at Aestus.

Despite the dragons’ fighting, Isolde’s blade struck true, lodging deep in the inky dragon’s eye, all the way to the hilt. The dragon gave a cry of deep agony, the sound like a thunder boom over them.

Isolde cringed hard and whirled around to find Fendrel staring in horror. Thea was dazedly starting to sit up in his arms, but Isolde felt her heart drop at the look in Fendrel’s eyes. “What?” she demanded.

“That’s Aestus,” was his impossible response.

Isolde whipped back around and stared at the charcoal colored dragon as his wings faltered and his agonized screams grew louder. She shook her head. It couldn’t be Aestus. Aestus had sent them here. Aestus was fighting alongside them.

Yet as the red dragon loomed over the black one, a hateful gleam in his flaming orange eyes, Isolde suddenly knew Fendrel must be right.

Isolde’s breath whooshed out of her as repulsion at what she’d done slithered through her. “I…I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know.”

But that didn’t matter. Because the dark dragon—Aestus—was plummeting to the earth with Malum watching vengefully above him.

Aestus slammed into the sand, another thunder boom, sending sand high into the air. His wings twitched terribly as he tried to lift himself, as he tried to hang onto life.

Isolde’s mouth hung open. What had she done?

Thea’s head felt like it was floating above her shoulders and stars threatened to consume her vision again, but she didn’t have time for such weaknesses.

Because Merek and Sepi weren’t moving on the ground.

Because Peronell and Brom both had limbs hanging awkwardly off of their body.

Because Carac had been hit with a fireball and was desperately trying to put out the flames.

Because between one beat and the next, Fendrel’s face became extremely pale and he fell forward, allowing Thea to see the dent in the back of his skull which was bleeding profusely.

Because Aestus was dying.

Because everyone was.

All her people. Everyone she cared about. They were all perishing in front of her.

First Lief, then her father, then her mother, now everyone else.

The thought was so unacceptable, so unfathomable, that it cracked something deep inside Thea. Something ancient and forgotten. Something horrible and raging.

As Aestus’s sides huffed with his last breaths, Malum landed victoriously beside him. Thea heard his gravelly voice in her mind as he said, I have searched for you and waited for this day a long time, Brother.

Please, Aestus rasped.

But Malum ignored him entirely. He dove forward and sank his teeth into Aestus’s jugular. Then, with relish, he tore out his throat.

The world held still for a moment. Stopped spinning. Thea didn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe. Her eyes bulged at the image. A heretical, blasphemous image.

With Aestus’s last moments, while thick, nearly black blood poured out of his neck, he looked at Thea. And she heard his voice, barely a whisper, say, White burn, Wyvern.

And then the dragon with scales as dark as the night sky, the dragon that was their god, the dragon they’d all prayed to, loved, believed in…died.

In that moment, it felt like the ground quaked beneath Thea’s feet. Like the earth itself was shuddering with sobs.

Thea turned her eyes to Malum, who stood over his brother, nostrils steaming, teeth dripping blood. She heard Aestus’s command again, heard it echo in her head. White burn, Wyvern.

So she did.

Thea’d always had an unending burning inside of her, that made her vengeful, wrathful, hateful. It had been apart of her since she was eight years old, since her brother had been murdered by Favian Lance. But now, that ancient, forgotten part inside of her snapped the leash on that constant fury wide open. Her vision turned red, orange, yellow, white. She couldn’t see anything but that blinding white.

Yet she moved.

She charged toward Malum, as her chest burned, a fire wrapping around her lungs, filling them. An agonizing searing pain ripped across her body, until it was nearly unbearable, until it was more. Until she thought that fire inside would tear her apart, break her into a million pieces.

Until Thea screamed.

Screamed against the pain, the loss, the grief, the horror, the terror. She screamed so loud, it made her own ears pop.

And with her scream, fire shot out of her mouth.

Not orange fire, like Aestus and Malum had. Bright, white flames. Flames so hot, they burned through the armor of Malum’s scales.

The dragon shrieked, but Thea didn’t stop. She let all of it out, until she was nearly unconscious from lack of oxygen, until her voice was hoarse, until tears of pain and despair fell down her cheeks. Until the odor of Malum’s burning flesh reached her nose. Until his screeching ceased.

Until Malum fell.

When Thea finally stopped screaming, the bright white left her eyes, and she was able to see the hole she’d ripped through Malum’s chest.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He lied dead next to his brother.

The fire left Thea. Doused.

She simply stood there, looking at the carnage in disbelief. Carnage she had caused.

All was quiet around her. Not even the wind blew.

Then she turned on wobbly legs. Met the gaze of Fendrel. He was still lying on his stomach, but he’d seen the whole thing.

Her eyes moved to Isolde, to Brom, Ana, Carac, Peronell, Anai. Her allies. Her friends. Her people. They were staring at her with their mouths hanging open and astonishment in their eyes. And…fear.

Without that fire, it was like every single ounce of energy had been sucked out of Thea. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the sand. She collapsed on her back.

Before unconsciousness claimed her for a third time, she recognized the question shining in everyone’s eyes, felt it drift through her own exhausted mind:

What was Thea Wyvern?

***END OF BOOK TWO***