XII

  Dragonfire did not obey.

  At least, no one had ever witnessed it obeying until now. But on Ilmestys’s back, as the wind cut across my face, I had the strange feeling that it might respond when the flames were called. I wasn’t sure whether this was pure hope or if Iskra’s stories had led me astray; the only thing I was certain of was that I had no margin for error.

  When Ilmestys finally stopped flying and began gliding between the clouds, my lungs felt like they might burst. The air here was very dry and much thinner. My eyes burned; my heart beat in time with my dragon’s wingbeats. Vaelis’s presence behind me crept up beside me like a cold mist. His hand on my waist seemed to be there not to reassure me, but to keep me from forgetting he was there.

  My grip on the reins tightened—as if that were even possible—with renewed strength. There were certain ideas that, the moment they entered one’s mind, could transform a person. As the forests beneath us and the sleeping towns faded into the shadows, and everything seemed to become nothing but sky, I felt like a completely different person: strong, free, and full of hope.

  I slowly tightened the reins and steered Ilmestys to the left. I was gentle, but still, when Ilmestys leaned sideways, my stomach dropped. Vaelis squeezed my waist lightly and didn’t let go until Ilmestys’s body straightened again.

  Damn it, Asterin, what are you planning?

  Vaelis’s tense voice echoed in my mind. The howling wind and the ringing in my ears were so loud that if he hadn’t used telepathy, his voice wouldn’t have reached me.

  Or are you afraid?

  I tried to keep my voice steady. Yet my words trembled beyond my control, clearly betraying the excitement and fear I felt.

  I’m just trying to figure out if you have a plan or if you’re needlessly putting our lives in danger.

  From the tone of his voice alone, I could imagine the expression on Vaelis’s face. That strange, questioning, dissatisfied, and sullen look—his face automatically took on that shape whenever he looked at me. I rolled my eyes. Vaelis was only here because he happened to be in the right place at the right time, and if he wanted to get off, it would be quite easy to throw him off Ilmestys’s back. I made a mental note of that possibility.

  Just wait.

  Gloomwood stretched out beneath us like a dark river, appearing to float within a bright mist. We had reached the border of Varrendale, and it was truly miraculous that it had taken so little time. Even in the darkness of night, the hillside that had once been Ilmestys’s home made its presence known with the weight of unpleasant memories.

  “Come on, girl,” I murmured, practically clinging to the reins. “I’m sure you remember this place.”

  This time, Ilmestys approached the hillside where she had broken her chains and fled without looking back with great ease and obedience. Her wings spread through the night, heavy and steady. Time stood still; even my heart had fallen silent. I could feel it—that warmth growing in my dragon’s chest, rising a little higher with every breath. It was unlike Calithra’s or Tharen’s flames—far more deadly, far more unreachable.

  I had suppressed it before. It had retreated as if it had heard me. Still, suppressing it was one thing; directing it was quite another.

  My eyes locked onto the massive rocks at the edge of the cliff. Ilmestys’s roar and thrashing during the full moon night must have torn them from the mountain’s peak. The vibration emanating from Ilmestys’s chest began to intensify. It was as if it knew exactly what I was planning and was trying to prove it to me.

  Vaelis now had both hands wrapped around my waist. I felt like telling him to hold me tighter, but the prince’s composure was already seeping into my bones. Either he truly wasn’t afraid, or he was very good at hiding it.

  I held my breath and focused entirely on the warmth inside Ilmestys. I imagined holding this ancient power—carved into the stone walls of the Hollow, a power even kings could not command—in the palms of my hands. I tried to anchor my mind around it, like trying to catch a current, but the flame suddenly slipped from my grasp.

  Ilmestys raised her head, and the flame erupted. The orange light shot forward, splitting the night; it plunged into the thickening trees where the hillside turned into forest, a wild and uncontrolled explosion. I screamed as the unbearable heat licked my face. After the flame swirled for a few more seconds, all that remained was smoke mingling with the night, a crimson glow, and a dozen trees beginning to burn fiercely.

  “Damn it,” I whispered to myself. The tension inside me had turned into heavy disappointment. As Ilmestys continued to fly in a steady rhythm, I loosened my grip on the reins. But my mind was still circling around the same question. Hope still glimmered beneath the disappointment.

  When Vaelis said, “I understand what you’re trying to do,” the hairs on the back of my neck stood up; the prince’s lips were very close to my ear. He raised his hand, and within seconds the burning trees died beneath a layer of bright ice that covered them.

  “As you burn, I will extinguish. Begin.”

  ***

  I had begun to lose track of time. The experiments blurred together, Ilmestys’s deadly flames turned into uncontrolled explosions, and Vaelis’s magic became a veil covering these failed attempts. Each time, the same crimson explosion, the same wave of heat, and then that layer of ice-blue... I had been holding the reins for so long that my joints ached. My shoulders felt heavy, and the patience inside me was slowly beginning to melt away.

  Extinguishing Ilmestys’s flames must have drained Vaelis’s power considerably, but the prince’s stance remained unyielding. He displayed tremendous patience and strength. I wasn’t holding back either, because I knew that if I burned, Vaelis would extinguish it.

  I paused to steady my breath; dawn was just moments away. This meant the night, when a Nightfall dragon could camouflage itself, was coming to an end. “One more time!” I shouted. I said this to Vaelis, to Ilmestys, and to myself.

  I fixed my mind once more on the flames rising inside Ilmestys. “You will listen to me, Ilmestys,” I murmured. “I am your friend, and you will share your power with me.”

  When Ilmestys moved her neck, the reins in my hands tightened. I pulled them back and fixed my eyes on the rock I had chosen as my target. The fire was rising, and in a few seconds it would erupt uncontrollably once more. I could foresee this now. But this time I didn’t try to catch the flame; I simply let myself be swept along by its current, and that current’s end was the massive rock fragment.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Ilmestys opened her mouth and flames burst out, tearing through the night. I had closed my eyes for just a second, and when I opened them, the rock had turned pitch black and split into four large pieces. I let out a breath filled with astonishment. I had succeeded.

  While the feeling of accomplishment settled in my mind, my body moved on its own; I guided Ilmestys to the slope and dismounted, walking along Ilmestys’s tail before leaping down in front of the shattered rock.

  “I did it,” I whispered. I couldn’t take my eyes off the smoke-filled rock. “I did it!”

  And finally, that feeling of not quite believing I had succeeded faded, replaced by pure elation. A hysterical laugh escaped my lips, then another, and another... I was completely exhausted, but again my body moved with tremendous energy. I passed Vaelis and ran toward Ilmestys.

  “We did it, Ilmestys!”

  Ilmestys spread her enormous wings and took flight in a single leap. As she flew in wide circles above the hill, I ran beneath her shadow. I felt an overflowing joy inside me, like a spark that wouldn’t fit within my chest—an excitement that urged me to keep moving and pushed me forward. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. What had just happened was literally unbelievable.

  “Fly, Ilmestys!” I shouted. “Fly much higher!”

  As the wind blew my hair across my face, the smile on my lips widened. The feeling inside me wasn’t just victory; it was as if a door I didn’t even know existed in my mind had opened. All the pieces had fallen into place, and Varrendale’s freedom was assured.

  I stopped at the edge of the cliff, less than half a step away from falling. Breathless, I watched Ilmestys circling above the forest, sometimes diving, sometimes soaring.

  “Look at yourself. You’re running around like a child.”

  I turned my back to the cliff to look at Vaelis. The warm light of the slowly breaking dawn spread across the sky, turning it from deep indigo to orange. When that light hit the prince’s face, I felt like I was seeing him for the first time. The harsh shadows that had lingered on his features throughout the night had faded. His silver hair fluttered in the wind, and his gaze felt almost unnaturally gentle.

  “Did you see what I did?” I asked. This time, my breath caught in the prince’s gaze.

  The corner of Vaelis’s lips slowly curved upward. As the morning light fell on his shoulders, the prince’s silhouette appeared more distinct, more elongated.

  “Every single second of it,” he said.

  I had always thought witnessing a historic moment would be a crazy thing. That’s why the prince didn’t seem to me like someone witnessing a first in history. At that moment, I realized that even legendary moments could carry a strange peace. Who knows how many great events in the past had been met with such calm?

  A brief silence fell between us. The wind swept along the edge of the cliff, and Ilmestys’s wingbeats could be heard faintly from above.

  Vaelis bowed his head slightly, but his eyes remained on me. “I think,” he said slowly, “you don’t realize how dangerous this is. Dawn is breaking, and you’re allowing Ilmestys to fly freely. We’re close to the shores of Ashvael.”

  “You know how I feel about taking risks,” I replied.

  Vaelis’s lips twitched slightly, more like a resigned sigh than a smile.

  “Yes,” he said. “Taking risks is your addiction.”

  “You’ll never know without taking risks,” I said with a sly smile. He was still looking at me with that gaze—so intensely that I felt something strangely tense stir inside me. Perhaps because of that dangerous and unfamiliar feeling, I thought it might be good to shake him up a little.

  “For example,” I said.

  And I threw myself off the cliff.

  Vaelis’s face changed instantly. The cool prince of moments before was gone, replaced by suddenly tensed muscles, widening eyes, and an uncontrolled reflex. His lips parted, his hand shot forward without a moment’s thought. Ice stretched with him, but the cold that grazed my wrists was too late to catch me.

  The wind began whistling in my ears. For a few seconds there was only free fall—that emptying sensation in my stomach and the rapidly approaching rocks. Then I felt the familiar hardness of Ilmestys’s scales beneath my back. I smiled; Ilmestys hadn’t forgotten our little trick.

  As her wings spread wide, my fall suddenly turned into an ascent. My laughter mingled with the wind as I rose to the level of the ridge.

  Vaelis’s face was truly something to behold: a jumble of shock, anger, and relief.

  “Like this.”

  “You’re crazy,” said Vaelis. The calmness on his face was gone, replaced once again by that wild agitation.

  “I’m crazy tired,” I muttered as I climbed down from Ilmestys’s back. “I bet Ilmestys is too.”

  Ilmestys took a few clumsy steps, her massive body lowering slowly to the ground, her scales rubbing together. I raised my arms above my head and stretched long and hard; the pain coursing through my muscles was almost pleasant.

  “We’ll let her rest a bit,” I said. My voice was thick with fatigue. “I hope you don’t have somewhere very important to be.”

  Ilmestys exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke from her nostrils; her hot breath rippled briefly in the air. Then she curled up, wrapping her tail around herself and tucking her head beneath her wing. Watching her, I sat down on the ground too, leaning my back against the thick, hard scales of her tail.

  Everything that had happened swept over me like an avalanche—noise, flames, fire, and victory. Now, however, a strange silence had settled around me. The only thing I could think of was sitting there for a few minutes without doing anything.

  “I have a pile of paperwork waiting for me to sign at my desk,” said Vaelis.

  He sat down next to me. He pulled one knee up and rested his elbow on it, his head tilted slightly to one side. It was as if his mind had already returned to that desk, but he had no intention of moving his body from here.

  “Boring,” I muttered.

  Vaelis was silent for a moment. Then he smiled faintly. “It’s definitely not exciting.”

  I leaned my head a little more against Ilmestys’s tail and half-closed my eyes.

  And Vaelis’s gaze focused intently on me once more. His eyes moved over my hair, my shoulders, every curve of my face, leaving a tingling sensation wherever they lingered. It was uncomfortable and persistent enough to keep me from the sweetness of rest I longed for.

  “Stop it,” I muttered.

  “You’re distant, Asterin,” said Vaelis. The sun on my face was shaded as the prince turned his body toward me. “You seem ready to change direction at any moment. Deep down, you don’t trust me.”

  He wasn’t wrong; I knew I always made him feel that way. Still, as long as this plan went smoothly, I would support him. I also knew that at the slightest hint of doubt, I wouldn’t hesitate to turn Ilmestys against them. Vaelis probably knew this too, and that was why he was uneasy.

  “For now, I’m loyal to you.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I want more.”

  “I asked for your blood, and you refused,” I said, as if to remind him. “You haven’t exactly inspired confidence from the start. The only reason I stand by you is because you speak plainly. And if there’s even a small hope in that, it’s my desire to destroy Gloomwood.”

  A faint smile appeared on Vaelis’s lips. He didn’t greet it like a victory; it was more like he had heard the answer he expected. He tilted his head slightly and studied me. His eyes held that calculating attention I was used to.

  “I could even make you the next elf queen,” he said calmly. “But don’t ask me for my blood.”

  My eyebrow rose involuntarily. The calmness in Vaelis’s voice, as if he were making a routine bargain, was almost comical. Still, we both knew there was something else behind those words.

  “What a generous offer,” I said. “You’re offering me the throne, but you’re too stingy to give me a single drop of blood.”

  Vaelis’s eyes hardened for a moment, then returned to that familiar calm. But I had seen that tiny crack.

  I closed my eyes again. The prince undoubtedly wanted this because his plan revolved almost entirely around me. Losing me meant losing the throne; losing me meant a failed attempt at revolution. That was why Vaelis was so careful, weighing his words and keeping his voice steady.

  This was enough for me to play him like a puppet. If I hadn’t been so desperate for sleep, I could have taken full advantage of the situation. I opened my eyes and looked at him. The prince still responded with the same patience, as if he already knew what my answer would be.

  “All right,” I said finally.

  Vaelis’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

  As the wind howled at the edge of the cliff, Ilmestys’s heavy breathing rose and fell behind me. Vaelis didn’t take his eyes off me for a moment.

  “I trust you."