Page 16 of Magick and Lead
But that was impossible. Mother’s dragon, Autan—may his soul fly—was the rarest type of dragon in existence. Stellhans came along less than once in a generation. They were huge and incredibly powerful. Powerful enough that, if used correctly, they could turn the tide of a war.
Or retake a kingdom…
From the fire in Ollie’s eyes, I knew he was thinking the same thing as I was.
“We can’t lose this dragon, Essa. He’s the key to everything. He has to be re-bonded to an experienced rider right away—to Dagar.”
I shook my head. “But he won’t bond. Not when he’s already bonded.”
Ollie put his hands on my shoulders. “Then that bond must be broken.”
The meaning of his words filled me, burning like the rising of a sun. We both knew there was only one sure way to break the bond between rider and dragon.
“I know you cared for him, Essa…” Ollie began.
“That foreign snake?” I spat. “His life is worth less to me than the fluff on a dandelion. I’ve already vowed to pay him back for what he did to my mother. It’s just…” I trailed off.
Ollie glanced at the little dragon again and I could tell he was deep in thought. I was, too, my mind taking flight like a dragon lifting off from a mountaintop. When Ollie looked back at me, he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. We both knew already what would have to be done.
“I’ll go there,” I said. “To Admar. I’ll find him. I’ll kill him. Then the bond will be broken.”
Ollie shook his head. “No, Essa. It’s not a mission for you. You’re a queen now. You can’t go risking yourself behind enemy lines. Send Lure. And Pocha.”
“Lure is still recovering from a serious injury,” I said. “And can you imagine Pocha trying to blend in among those foreign necromancers?”
“Perhaps I could go then,” Ollie mused. “Let’s think on it. No need to make a rash decision. Although we shouldn’t wait too long, either…”
We both looked at Parthar once again. He’d curled his tail around himself and nuzzled his head into it like a pillow, his wings wrapped around himself like a blanket. Ollie was right. He acted like a baby, but he was already as big as a Doramant hound. Parthar was a stellhan.
And he might be the key to everything.
8
CHARLIE
Isat in one of Ironberg’s many hole-in-the-wall bars at a corner table, a glass of whiskey in front of me. I’d reached that perfect point of drunkenness where the worst of my worries felt unimportant and the full weight of melancholy that came from true self-honesty hadn’t quite hit yet. More importantly, I was still sober enough that I could ride back to the farm tonight if I stopped drinking now.
But could I really go back? I’d been sent back to active duty, and orders weren’t suggestions. I’d face court-martial if I didn’t show up tomorrow morning. If I went back to the farm, instead, they’d find me there, probably sooner rather than later.
Of course, I could just disappear. Fly across the Olam Sea and search for Essa full time… That was a tempting thought. Except there were no fuel depots in Maethalia. In a matter of days, I’d be out of petrol for the plane and out of ammo for my guns. I’d be reduced to wandering around a countryside I didn’t know with nothing but a sword and an empty belly, searching for a princess—a queen—who might not even be happy to see me when I found her—at least not until I’d done some major explaining.
The smart thing to do would be to report for duty. To forget about Essa and everything that had happened during my time in that magical land across the sea. But the idea of abandoning the search, of going back to my former life, as if nothing had happened… the idea of never seeing Essa again, or Parthar…
Impossible.
And so, the glass of whiskey and I stared at one another, each waiting to see what the other would do.
“A pretty stone.”
I looked up to find a man in a black suit standing over me. He removed his hat, revealing slicked-back blond hair and a face so pale and flawless it looked sculpted of marble. I knew the guy, had seen him around McNally Air Base. He was intelligence. A spook. A spy.
Shit.
I glanced down and saw what he was referring to—I was holding an oval-shaped stone, rubbing it with my thumb. It was the dragon stone Parthar had given me. I’d attached it to the dog-tag chain I wore around my neck, but I had the habit of taking it off and holding it, especially when I was thinking. I hadn’t even been aware it was in my hand, but now that I saw it, I felt its magical warmth radiating up my arm and through my body. I could also feel the presence of Parthar—my sweet little guy—though he was still too far away to hear his voice.
That was the other reason I couldn’t stay here and disappear back into being the Silver Wraith. Although I couldn’t hear his words, I could feel Parthar’s distress. Wherever he was, he needed me.
The man—Langford, that was his name—still had his eyes on the faintly glowing stone. I quickly put it in my pocket.
