Dominic immediately recognized that auburn hair and those freckles beneath the moonlight. “Silas!” he cried, running for the boy.
Tyson’s and Tobias’s footsteps followed, and they all halted at Silas’s side.
A darkness settled over them. The shadow of death hovered, poised to strike as the lykren’s tongue flicked, six onyx eyes locked onto them. Its maw yawned open to reveal blood-stained fangs as it lowered its head toward them—
Heat blasted their faces, plumes of sapphire flames shooting for the lykren’s head. It hissed, turning its attention back on Adara.
Wet, rattling coughs drew Dominic’s attention back to Silas. His abdomen was charbroiled, the lykren’s acidic blood having singed entirely through muscle and bone. Tobias turned away and vomited at the sight of Silas’s innards, blackened and charred. A pallid sheen crossed over Tyson’s face, and he stood frozen, staring at Silas. The kid refused to scream, even as he lay in a pool of acidic blood in his final moments. He must have been in shock to be so calm, so brave in the face of death. His moss green eyes were glossy with unshed tears as he blinked up at them in a daze.
“Dominic?” he rasped, the word hardly leaving his lips.
Tears pricked his eyes. “I’m here, Silas,” he said softly, wishing he could reach out and take the boy’s hand, but there was too much infected blood. At least, when mixed with the ocean water lapping over their boots, the blood became diluted, harmless. But if their skin came into contact with the pure blood, they’d be dead soon enough.
“I’m here but I can’t—” Dominic’s words broke off in a sob. “I c-can’t hold you,” he finally stammered out through ragged breaths, chest constricting with every second that led them closer to Silas’s last breath.
The ship shook, a roar swallowing the sound of Silas’s chokes. The sky lit up with an azure glow, with Adara valiantly fighting the lykren. Whether she knew Silas lay there dying, Dominic couldn’t be sure, but he was grateful for her protection, buying them time to say their final goodbyes.
“This can’t be happening,” Tyson whispered, hands laced on top of his head, eyes squeezed shut as if that would make it all go away.
“Silas, please . . . ” Tobias begged, falling to his knees beside Dominic, but they all knew no amount of prayers could bring him back.
This wasn’t like Ace. They couldn’t sever a limb and stanch his blood. His innards were already nothing but mottled piles of flesh and black-purple blood spilling from him. Dominic pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle a gag.
“I-I know.” Silas’s whisper was pained. His hand twitched at his side. The pale skin of his fingertips was miraculously clean compared to the gore staining the rest of him. His lips curled, features scrunching in pain as he reached for his pant pocket and pulled free a piece of wood. With a trembling hand, he held it out to Dominic, eyes still gazing up at the sky, unseeing.
Dominic reached out, careful not to touch Silas’s fingers in case there was a splotch of blood he couldn’t see, and wrapped his fingers around the object.
“G-give it t-to Adara,” he pleaded, barely getting the words out before another wave washed over his face. He gasped for air, his body racked with more wet coughs. Black blood spurted from his lips, dribbling down his chin.
Unfolding his fingers, Dominic revealed a tiny wood carving of a dragon. Dominic chanced a look at Adara, who spiraled up toward the sky, dodging the lykren’s gnashing teeth. He returned his gaze to Silas.
“H-how did you know?” he uttered incredulously.
Silas’s lips worked, but he didn’t say anything. Dominic thought he might never get an answer. “D-didn’t,” he finally spat out. “Her cloak,” he gasped, words failing him, but Dominic understood what he meant to say. That elegant royal blue cloak with the gold dragon embroidered on the back that Adara wore had inspired him to carve a dragon figurine for the Flamecarrier. “I a-always knew . . . she was s-something . . . greater,” he said with such devotion, as if he believed Adara herself was the divinity that had come back to life, graced by her presence in his lifetime. “P-promise?” The word was a barely audible rasp.
“Yes, Silas,” Dominic said, his voice cracking. Everything inside him screamed to reach out, to grasp Silas’s hand, to pull him from the water and blood washing over him, and hold him close, but he couldn’t. It felt like a chasm had split his chest, pulling him deep within the fissure, a dark void swallowing him whole.
Dominic could do nothing for the poor boy but nod. “I promise I’ll give it to her.”
Silas’s mouth moved but no sound came out. He tried again, determined to let the words break free. “Thank you . . . for givingme a home.” The corners of his lips tugged up and he blinked at the starlit sky one last time.
There wasn’t enough time in the world to memorize his moss green eyes as the light faded from them, opening that dark chasm within Dominic’s chest as Silas drew his final breath.
The harsh impact of a scaled body to the hull sent the ship careening. Waves swept over the deck. “NO!” Dominic cried out, reaching for what he knew he could not save as Silas’s mangled body washed overboard, into the black abyss of this cursed sea.
They’d all been so eager to return to Andreilia, so certain their ship—The Lykren,Caleb had named after the invincible creature, the monster that killed Silas—was untouchable, even in the midst of the Plagued Sea. How wrong they were to think they could all make it back alive.
Dominic should have left them all behind to the safety of the island as he and Adara journeyed across the continents and the seas for the relics. But he’d foolishly taken them with him.
Now, Silas Stryder would never get the chance to see his home again.
Chapter 51
Itwasamiracleshe wasn’t dead yet. Everything felt like flames searing her skin, and she couldn’t differentiate between what was her own fire and what was the acrid burn of venom seeping into her. Perhaps it was because, as a dragon, she was infinitely larger than a human and the poison took longer to reach her heart. But that didn’t explain the pain slowly fading. After some time, the unbearable, acidic, burning sensation dulled to a numbing sizzle.
Adara shook her head, water showering from her scales with the movement. Flames seared her throat, her maw widening toaim another plume of fire at the lykren. It dove beneath the waves, giving Adara the chance to dive toward the ship, where Dominic, Tobias, and Tyson kneeled, their shoulders slumped in defeat. Silas was nowhere to be seen, but the only other figures on the ship were the pirates desperately clinging to their sinking ship or uselessly trying to swim away, swallowed by the rough waves. She prayed that Silas had crossed the gangplank before their ships drifted apart, and she’d merely missed seeing him in the midst of the melee.
There was no time to dwell on that. She had to get the rest of them out. Tobias and Tyson were in her claws within an instant. Wings flapping steadily as she neared the starboard side of the ship, where Dominic clutched the railing for support, Adara bowed her head. “Get on,mishente.” Her instructions were a deep, guttural rumble from the back of her throat, more of an animalistic growl than words. “Quickly.”
