He climbed onto the dreadnought and directed the others to their places—Samara at the head, with the reins in her hands, Giles at the right wings, Ignatius at the left wings, all clipped to their tethers; Rosemary at the tripod shotfire, and Elspeth overlooking the creature’s twisting tail.
A commotion caught his attention, and he turned to see Hera across the camp, pitching as six Sennalaithic soldiers tried to wrestle a harness around her necks. She saw him and tried to lunge toward him.
He lifted his hand and channeled magic toward her. She soothed, still gazing at him. Then she curled her heads down and submitted.
Cadmus strode toward her, resplendent in his blue uniform with its gold epaulettes. Behind Cadmus came Valenna. She was dressed in skin-tight pants and a dragon scale vest the color of aconite flowers. Her hair was slicked into a viciously tight bun, her eyelids and fingernails were painted black. She looked every inch the witch child Evander had met on the battlefield all those years ago.
She glanced at him, and her dark-stained lips twitched into a grim smile. How had it come to this? Evander’s nerves melted into rage. How dare Cadmus take this gentle, fearless woman and try to transform her into some demon?How dare Cadmus touch his wife?
Evander clenched his fist against the urge to whip out his shotfire and shoot the king dead. In a few hours, it would be over, and they could begin plotting their future and how to take Talwaith from Cadmus’s clutches. Everything was in motion; he just had to survive.
Turning away, he checked the weapons on the dreadnought’s back, the cannisters under her wings, and gave last-minute instructions to the crew.
Don’t release the canister on an upward wing beat.
Remember, fifteen seconds between fire breaths.
If we need to bail, wait for my command, then run off the tail as it beats downward.
Glide clear of the dragon as she crashes or you’ll be caught in the explosion when she hits the ground.
“Dread Five!”
To Evander’s right, the Dread Seven crew mounted their dragon. Ryland, always grave, stared coldly at Evander.
“Take out the manor quick and clean. I won’t lose any crew because of you,” he said.
“I was about to say the same,” Evander replied.
The scrappy blond laughed. “Stop being a cocky skat, Ry,” he said, taking his place at the tripod.
“Don’t call me that, Raleigh!” Ryland snapped. “I’m your captain.”
“It takes a cocky skat to know a cocky skat,” the aft-razer said sharply.
“Don’t worry, Trevelyan,” Raleigh said, “if the enemy gets too close, Lucinda can breathe fire at them.”
“Do not call me Lucinda,” the aft-razer shot back. “I swear, I’ll turn this shotfire around and shoot you myself.”
Evander ignored them, focusing on his own crew. Last night, the aft-razer had been kissing Raleigh like he was the love of her life. Today, she acted as though she hated him. He supposed not everyone loved the way he and Valenna did.
Evander clipped his sliding hook to the long cable down the dragon’s spine, then knelt on one knee behind Samara. “Up,” he said.
Samara looked over her shoulder. “Captain, you’re going to need to be a lot louder if you expect me to hear you in the battle.”
“Worry about getting this dreadnought in the air, pilot,” Evander retorted.
The thunder of the dreadnought’s wingbeats pounded deep in Evander’s chest like a second heartbeat. The grass splayed out beneath them, and a mist of insects rose in their wake. Startledfrom the marsh, three saltwater cranes flew into the sky ahead of them, a solemn van guard. Evander braced for the shock of cold as they dove into the clouds. The camp diminished like a child’s play soldier set.
Samara gripped the reins, her thick eyebrows drawn together in a determined scowl.
Evander clapped his hand on her shoulder.“You are ready for this!” he shouted over the whistling wind.
Evander tried to steel his mind against a torrent of anxious thoughts.
What if he was killed because he gave Samara his shirt? Valenna would hate his memory forever.
She would understand. She had to understand.
