Page 13 of Wings of Frost and Fury
“I am glad to see that some of you survived,” falters the spy. “Personally I’ve always liked dragons—”
“Where is the Supreme Sorcerer now?” demands Kyreagan.
“He is dead. The working of the spell was too much for him. My informant came to me right after it happened. He said they carried the body out—”
“I do not care about that,” Kyreagan interrupts. “If he is dead, we cannot have revenge upon him, so we must think of something else.”
Varex exchanges a few additional words with the spy, and then we let him go on his way.
Saevel descends from the group of dragons flying above us. “My Princes, the other warriors are famished. If we are to have the strength to reach the Capital, we must stop to hunt.”
“No need to hunt this time,” Kyreagan says darkly. “We will dine on the flocks and herds of Elekstan. Tell Rothkuri to come to me. I have questions for him about a tale he once told—a story about the daughter of the Supreme Sorcerer.”
“His daughter?” I ask.
“She is a powerful enchantress. She can transform animals from one species into another.”
“And how does that help us?” inquires Varex.
Kyreagan arches his neck, his spikes bristling. “We will snatch women from the royal city, the heart of Elekstan. As the humans destroyed our daughters, mates, mothers, and friends, so we will take their females. Then we will find this enchantress and force her to transform all the women we have taken into female dragons.”
Saevel’s green body shudders. “That will not stem the tide of our grief, nor smother the fire of our rage.”
“No, but it is something,” Kyreagan says. “It is a solution that may help us survive.”
“Kyreagan…” I say hesitantly.
“What?” He wheels on me, fire in his golden eyes. “Would you have me do nothing?”
“Ashvelon is merely being cautious,” Varex tells his brother.
“Now is not the time for caution,” Kyreagan says. “There are herds of cattle to the northeast—I glimpsed them before we descended. We will hunt there, fill our stomachs, and continue with all haste to the Capital.”
The cows in the nearby fields stare up at us with vague interest as our shadows fall over them. They are lazy, comfortable animals who have lived without fear, and they do not run until we are already landing among them, tearing their bodies apart.
It seems absurd to think about prey at such a time, when our souls are sick with grief and longing. But the journey to Guilhorn was long, and the battle to take the stronghold sapped much of our energy. Without food, we cannot hope to carry out Kyreagan’s plan.
I believe Kyreagan already had the seeds of the scheme when we left Guilhorn, but with more information from the spy and from Rothkuri, he has become adamant that kidnapping human women is our only choice. He explains his idea to the others while we are gathered, devouring the cattle. As soon as the meal is done, we take to the skies again, heading for the royal city.
Once we get there, I will have to choose a woman to capture. Kyreagan said we do not necessarily have to mate with the one we choose—our goal is simply to collect as many women of breedable age as possible, preferably those who do not already have offspring. Varex added something about choosing women with strength of spirit as well, which makes sense. We do not want females who are too faint of heart and will die of fright the moment they are scooped up by a dragon’s claws.
The rain slackens in the late morning, and by midafternoon, I see the walls and towers of the Capital ahead. Within those walls are hundreds of small houses, pitifully fragile compared to a dragon’s bulk, unprotected and vulnerable.
Kyreagan roars his agony and his fury, and the dragons around me echo the fierce cry. He makes for one of the towers like an obliterating storm, like a black arrow of death.
I fall back a little, slowing my wingbeats as the other dragons tear past me, streaking after him. Some of them have only anger and despair in their hearts—others seem oddly excited at the prospect of capturing human women.
For my part, I am too grief-stricken to feel anger. Inside I am hollow, like a dark cavern in which only echoes reside.
Instead of following the others to the city, I land heavily outside the wall, in a meadow bordering several rows of cottages. About a wing’s length away from me is a stone circle, something the humans call a well, which allows them to bring up fresh water from the ground.
Beside the well stands a young woman with brown hair and pleasing features. She looks sturdy enough to handle the journey to Ouroskelle, and she hasn’t fled from me—she is merely staring, open-mouthed, which means she is either brave or stupid.
I’m not sure how to proceed. Do I simply snatch her up and fly off with her? Do I ask her to come with me? Judging by what Kyreagan said, I’m fairly sure I’m supposed to grab her and take off. That feels cruel to me. What if she already has a mate and offspring?
“Do you have offspring?” I speak as quietly as I can, but the sound of my voice still appears to terrify her.
She shakes her head.
