The dragon yawned, its breath reeking of acid and dead bear.
Oh. Okay. I glanced at Cris for help, but he and the other sylph were distracted. I checked the forest but saw nothing unusual. Just lots of snow and trees and brilliant blue sky. Everything shimmered in the noon light. My stomach tightened, reminding me I’d had nothing but a skinny pigeon in what seemed like forever.
Acid Breath rumbled again, vibrating the wall so hard I staggered. The other two dragons peered at me, their eyes slitted as though they wanted to doze.
“Anyway.” My voice came out high and panicky as the dragon shifted its head, so a long fang stood out right in front of me, bone white against shimmering gold scales. “It seems to me you’re not much of a fan of the tower.” Though they didn’t seem to mind the one in their domain. “And I thought I’d let you know that I have the same poison that was used last year, and I’m going to use the poison again on the spring equinox.”
The dragon lifted its head. <Why?>
Ah. At last.
I bit my cheeks to avoid smiling while I put together the next words. “Because that night, the man living inside the walls is going to ascend. He wants to be immortal. He’s going to break free of the walls that have caged him for five thousand years. Already it’s beginning. The earth is shifting.”
The dragon lowered its head. <We don’t care.>
“You should.” I stepped forward, sylph fanning around me. “Because when it happens, the earth will crack open and fire will spit out. There’s an enormous volcano under the city, powerful enough to make the surrounding lands boil. You’re far away from the volcano, but not that far. Not far enough. Ash will rain all over your hunting grounds, smothering the plants and animals. This frozen land will be even colder and deadlier.”
<Why do you want our help?> Acid Breath angled his face at me so that one of his eyes was an arm’s length away, and the ringing in my ears intensified. <You hate us as much as we hate you.>
“I—I don’t hate you.” Though I certainly hated whatever dragons had killed Sam in previous generations. And maybe some of the dragons from Templedark, but several of those were dead. “I came because I thought you would like another chance to destroy the temple.” And how did one bring up a mysterious weapon?
<It will only mend. Our journey will be futile, as you said, and humans will kill us. We aren’t like you. We don’t come back.> Acid Breath settled back onto the wall, jaw propped on one forefoot. <If our hunting grounds are destroyed, we will go somewhere else.>
This couldn’t be it. I couldn’t have come all this way, actually succeeded in speaking to dragons, only to be turned down.
An idea sparked in my mind. “What happens when Janan begins hunting dragons?”
Acid Breath rumbled, as did the others. <What?>
I nodded. “When Janan ascends, he’s going to be immortal. Maybe unkillable. He stole a phoenix’s magic and made himself like this. But before, five thousand years ago, he was the leader of a group of people—the people who live in the city right now. And considering how many times they’ve been killed by dragons, I’m sure Janan will want some kind of revenge.”
It could happen. Maybe.
<He won’t harm dragons. He cannot.>
“Are you sure?” Everything inside me twisted, numb from what I was about to say. In spite of what they’d done, I didn’t want to hurt my sylph. It was the same as with Sam and all my other friends. They’d made a decision or followed orders, yes, but that was five thousand years ago. It hadn’t been just another lifetime, it had been another world. They’d all changed. Their decisions from then didn’t affect my love for them now. “Because five thousand years ago, Janan and his warriors trapped a phoenix.”
The sylph shivered and whined.
<Phoenixes cannot be caught.>
“They can.” I made my voice hard. “They can and they have been. You may think Janan won’t or can’t come after you, but if humans had menaced dragons for the last five thousand years, wouldn’t you want revenge?”
Acid Breath lifted his head and looked at the others, and the ringing in my ears intensified. I couldn’t understand what they said to one another, but there was definitely something going on. Wings tensed. Words crackled around the edges of my thoughts, but the dialogue—what I could hear of it—didn’t seem complete. There was something in the way they moved that added to the conversation—something I couldn’t quite understand.
But the fragments I could hear—they were interesting.
<She wants us to destroy the temple.>
<And the song?>
<She doesn’t have it. I don’t see it in her.>
<Perhaps she hates the one with the song.>
<We should help.>
<We should destroy her before she destroys us.>
<She can’t. She doesn’t have the song.>
<Test it.>
Finally, the lead dragon turned back to me and settled on the wall. <Make a song for us again. Like you did earlier.>
“What?” I needed to ask them about the weapon the temple books had mentioned, and whether they could use it to fight Janan. But they were interested in a song?
The dragon growled, its anger rippling across the forest. <The song you made to lure us here. Make another one so we can hear.>
“Play my flute?” My words came out like squeaks as I lifted my flute, making the sylph stir with anticipation.
-Will the dragons help?- Cris asked me.
<Now!>
I stepped backward and held my flute to my chin.
The others began with a low hum that rolled across me, through me. I shifted my shoulders to readjust my backpack, still weighing me down, then played a few scales and arpeggios to warm up. The dragons grew still, watchful.
I had a few pieces memorized, having played them enough for my muscles to remember the melodies, so I let my fingers rest over the keys for only a moment before I decided on the music I’d played during the market day demonstration, right before I’d been captured and locked inside the temple. It was the music I’d written like a diary, keeping it to myself for months until I finally had the courage to show it to Sam.
The music started out slowly, melancholy. Sylph pooled their songs around it, matching the longing I played, the need for the unknown. Everything around me faded as the music took over, the sylph warmed me, and I pushed my heart into it. Gasping with a kiss. Awe at a fire-sky sunset. The amazing and humbling feeling of receiving love. My flute’s sound soared across the valley, sweet and silver and filled with life.
Playing with sylph was nothing like playing with Sam. Both sylph and Sam understood music in a way I could only dream of, but where Sam played with immeasurable skill and deliberateness, sylph were free and wild. When they sang, they danced, and they burned with passion and joy.
Sound swirled through us, making my heart pound with fear and loneliness and exhaustion when I reached the section I’d written after learning of newsouls’ fate. And then hope and desire when Sam took me home and revealed the parlor filled with roses, just because he’d wanted to see me smile.
As we pushed toward the end, I opened my eyes to find the dragons all looking . . . peaceful. Oddly happy, if one could assign a facial expression to dragons.
And as my gaze swept over the valley, I caught motion on the cliff where I’d stood yesterday. Three human-shaped figures and a dozen sylph, the latter of which echoed my music.
I dropped my flute to my side, banging it on my thigh. They hadn’t left. They were still here. Sam was here.
And the dragons.
As the sylph finished singing, confused about why I’d stopped, I faced Acid Breath.
<What are you doing?>
I unzipped my coat enough to slide my flute into its case, still strapped diagonally across my chest. “Are you going to destroy the tower? Will you use your weapon to fight Janan?” Now that I’d seen the others across the valley, I itched to return to them, to tell them what I’d done. I also wanted to somehow put myself between the dragons and Sam, but they’d see around me. Over me. Maybe I could lure them away, or . . . I had no clue. “Tell me you’re going to destroy the tower on the spring equinox, and I’ll play all you like.”
<Why did you stop?>
One of the other dragons lifted its head and looked toward the cliff, and buzzing in the back of my thoughts indicated they were discussing what had caught my attention. They knew why I’d stopped.
Sam.
I didn’t think I was supposed to hear it, but one dragon murmured to another, <The one with the song.>
<We will stop the distraction.> That was meant for me, and with one graceful motion, Acid Breath dug his talons into the white stone as he crouched for flight. His wings spread wide, their wind almost knocking me off the wall.
“No!” I raced for him, as though I could stop a dragon. He was ready to fly off and leave me, ready to kill Sam while I was stranded here, helpless to do anything about it. I threw my arms around his foreleg just as he lifted into the air, sylph shrieking behind me.
We were flying.
Icy wind stung my face, poured down my throat. I gasped and clung to the dragon’s leg as he lifted it and growled. His scales were cool and slick, almost slick enough to drop me. I wrapped my legs around his ankle—what I supposed would be his ankle—and tried not to think about hurtling through the sky. On a dragon.
The one with the song.
What song?
Acid Breath dragged his foot, skimming treetops, which whipped and caught at me. Pine needles smacked my legs and arms, slithering into my sleeves and coat collar. My hands ached from the cold and holding on, but as his wings cracked against the air again and I looked up, I found the cliff rushing at me.
The dragon hurled me to the ground, and the line of sylph that had formed around Sam, Stef, and Whit. I wrapped myself around my flute case as I rolled across rocks and dead grass. Sylph swarmed to surround me, and three pair of hands dragged me to my feet.
I didn’t have time to thank them. I shucked off my backpack and pushed through the sylph.
“Stop!” I craned my neck as the trio of dragons pulled back as though to spit acid. “If you hurt them, I won’t play for you anymore.”
The dragons huffed, and an acrid stink washed over the ledge. They were standing in the forest below, heads held high enough to peer at us.
<The one with the song. He’s here.>
<I see it.>
<She tricked us.>
<Kill her.>
“Ana—”
I glanced over my shoulder at Sam and held out a hand for him to stay where he was behind the sylph. “Just stay,” I said.
<She commands the one with the song.> The dragons’ words came like smoke around the edges of my consciousness. Fragments I was only peripherally aware of.
I hardly recognized my own wind-torn voice anymore as I faced the dragons. “And maybe you don’t care whether I play for you ever again. I don’t care if I ever play for you again, honestly. But know this: if you hurt them, I will hunt you.”
<Lies.>
“Not lies. I told you that Janan had warriors who hunted and captured a phoenix. Those warriors became sylph. They are with me now, my army and my armor, and I’m sure they remember how to capture something that doesn’t want to be captured. If you hurt my friends, we will come for you and every other dragon in existence.”
<The phoenix song. The one with the song.>
<We must destroy it.>
<She knows the one with the song. She will use the song against us.>
<If she wanted to, she would have.>
<Kill her to be safe.>
<She will use the song if we try. The one with the song will do it. See how he hovers.>
<But she wants the temple destroyed.>