The crew of the skyship Phoenix have come a long way since Dorian Valmont and his accidentally-bonded dragon Solaris joined them almost a year ago.
But the Phoenix is gone now, and Emperor Callahan continues to consolidate power. Their last hope to defeat him lies with the mysterious and secretive Order of the Silver Dragon. With the Order, Dorian and Solaris can finally learn what it means to be dragonauts. But when Dorian is tasked with guarding a prisoner, he discovers that the Order’s secrets may well spell their downfall.
Tai thought she’d found a home with the crew of the Phoenix, but with the ship destroyed, she is once again adrift and out of place. When a dangerous man from her past offers a risky opportunity, she seizes the chance to prove her worth. Tai soon finds herself on the run with a stolen dragon—and a secret that could shake the world of Cyrna to its core.
Time is running out. While Dorian and Tai struggle with conflicted loyalties, the emperor comes ever closer to sinking the floating lands. The pair may yet restore the world’s magic, right an ancient wrong, and thwart the emperor once and for all, but to pull it off, they'll need to figure out who they can trust, and where they truly belong.
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After two days’ uphill slog through the rain, the last thing Tai Lunstrum wanted to see was a thrice-cursed angry mob.
The bedraggled crew of the skyship Phoenix stumbled up to the gates of Cloudfire Castle, wanting nothing more than a bath and a hot meal. Instead, what they found was an unruly crowd of winged Orith and wingless Aerish, buzzing like a swarm of angry wasps. Tai heard distinct cries of “Waited for days!” and “You can’t do this.”
“Looks like trouble,” her former captain, Xander Kane, said with a frown.
Zachary Falgar grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Thank the Ancients for that. Things were getting way too peaceful and boring.”
“Falgar.” Their other former crew-mate, Jakob Sullivan, rolled his eyes. But he smiled, too, and took Falgar’s hand in his.
“We traveled all this way from Westveil,” complained one of the Orith in the crowd. “Let us pay our respects!”
READ MOREThe gate guard, a pinch-faced, harried-looking young Aerishman, crossed his arms. “As I have said, you are free to pay your respects at the temple. But Cloudfire Castle is closed to visitors.”
“Never mind them, it’s us who deserve to be let in,” came a familiar, bullish voice.
Tai and the others exchanged excited glances.
“That’s Graigor Beckett’s voice,” Dorian said. He sounded equal parts relieved and apprehensive — he and Graigor had never especially gotten along.
But if one member of Lord Bradford’s rebellion had survived, then that meant there might be others. Tai scanned the crowd, and with delight and relief noted several faces she recognized. However, just as many were conspicuously absent.
“Thank the Gods you’re safe.” Lord Bradford Callahan rushed to the front of the crowd. Tai had to hand it to the man. The pampered nobleman had struggled more than most on the two-day hike, but even exhausted and mud-splattered, he put on a regal bearing. “What’s happening here?”
“It’s been days, and this man still won’t let us in.” Graigor crossed his burly arms and jutted out his chin.
“The Lady of Cloudfire said that there are to be no visitors,” the guard repeated.
“Believe me, sir, Lady Sylvia will want to see us.” Bradford puffed out his chest with all the lordly arrogance he could muster. “I am Viscount Bradford Tiruvian Callahan, Lord of Frostvale and son of—”
“I know whose bloody son you are.” The guard massaged his temple. “Bloody void. I think you might understand why I’m reluctant to allow Janus Callahan’s whelp into our hallowed halls.”
“Now wait just a thrice cursed minute.” This time, it was Xander’s turn to elbow his way forward. “Jameson? Jameson Russel?”
The guard raised his eyebrows in surprise, but his expression quickly gave way to smugness. “Xander Kane. By all the gods and Ancients. You got old.”
“You ... didn’t.” Captain Xander frowned.
Xander was right. The guard, Jameson, didn’t look any older than his mid twenties. She eyed him curiously, noting his jaded demeanor in contrast to his youthful appearance. He dressed immaculately in a uniform of white and gold, unmarred by the dusty city streets. And around his neck he wore a familiar looking pendant — a silver dragon clutching a pearl-white stone.
“You’re a dragonaut,” Tai blurted without thinking.
Jameson recoiled as if he’d just bit down on something sour. “And what makes you suggest such an outlandish thing, little girl?”
Tai bristled, feathers flaring. She was twenty-one years old. Hardly a little girl.
“You’ve got a dragonstone.” She gestured at the necklace.
Jameson made a sound like a boiling tea kettle. “Do not be ridiculous. This is a symbol of my office as one of the Stewards of Cloudfire. Outside of Emperor Callahan’s abominations, there are no dragonauts. Everyone knows that.”
“You’re wrong.” This time Dorian stepped forward. He clutched his own dragonstone, identical to Jameson’s except in color — red and gold rather than Jameson’s silver and white. Somewhere high above them, his dragon Solaris circled on the lookout for danger.
“You!” Jameson drew an ornate silver sword with its hilt wrought in the shape of a dragon.
Not a dragonaut, eh?
Dorian carried a similar blade on his belt. It was a gift from Solaris, a symbol of the strength of their bond.
Jameson relaxed slightly, sheathing the blade once more, but not letting go of the dragon-shaped hilt. “You’re not one of Callahan’s.”
“Indeed not,” Xander said with no small amount of pride. More quietly, so only Jameson and those standing nearest could hear, he said, “This is Dorian Valmont, rogue dragonaut, and the most promising young aeronaut since Cyrus Valmont himself.”
“Captain.” Dorian blushed.
Jameson looked like he’d swallowed a poisonous toadstool.
“So if you please, Jameson,” Xander said, “We have news for the Order, and I believe the Dragonmar will be most annoyed if you continue to delay.”
Jameson looked like he was about to suffer an aneurysm. “Not. Here.” He looked around as if afraid Callahan’s forces might emerge out of nowhere. “You three.” He pointed at Xander, Dorian, and Bradford. “Come into the castle with me. The rest… the rest of you will just have to wait.”
Tai’s wing twitched. The rest of you will just have to wait. She ought to be used to this kind of thing by now. Tai wasn’t a member of the nobility, or a dragonaut, or scion to a prestigious secret order. She was nobody. Of course, she would have to wait. Wasn’t that always the way of it?
“Now, just one moment.” Graigor Beckett crossed his arms. “If they are going in, I demand to be let in as well.”
“And the rest of the crew, too,” Dorian put in.
“And just what makes you so much more important?” an Orith pilgrim demanded. “This is our sacred site. We deserve to enter first.”
Jameson shook his head rapidly, as if trying to frighten away a gadfly. “It will be you three, or nobody. Make your choice.”
Tai sighed. She hated being excluded, but as always, practicality won out. They’d get nowhere if they stood there arguing all day. “It’s okay.” She put her hand gently on Dorian’s forearm. “You should hear what this Order has to say. The rest of us can fend for ourselves.”
“I expect you to put in a good word for us, mind,” Falgar said.
Dorian smiled, but he still looked to Xander for the final say.
“I’ll do everything I can to get the rest of you admitted.” The former captain’s face was etched with deep concern. “Tai, you’re in charge until I get back.”
“Aye sir.” Tai smiled, even though Xander wasn’t the captain anymore, and didn’t have the authority to put her in charge of anything.
Graigor let out a frustrated “Hmph” and spat onto the dusty ground.
Tai, however, gave her former captain one last salute, and with no small amount of uneasiness, watched them depart.
COLLAPSE