Scarlett Meris's Arc

Chapter 10 of 15

Scarlett woke before the sky changed. Kieran was already in the yard, checking the straps on the blue-green dragon he had brought up from the lower paddock. The dragon was his own, sleek and calm, the one that would carry them both north to the injured blue. Scarlett buckled the rune-sword across her back and stepped down into the wet grass. "Patrol," Kieran said, without looking up. "My father's men. Northern route, dawn sweep. I heard it from the rider I passed on the road." Scarlett stopped with her hand on the dragon's shoulder. "How close?" "Close enough to see her the second she clears the trees." He nodded at the dragon. "They'll mark the color. They'll follow her home." A sweep at dawn meant the injured blue would be found first. It meant the two dragons behind the house would be found next. Everything she had kept alive was about to be spotted from the sky. Kieran reached into his coat. He pulled out a small square of dark iron on a plain ring. The metal looked dead in his hand. No shine. No warmth. "What is that," she said. "A charm. It hides what it's tied to. Not far. Not for long. A mile of sky, maybe less." "Where did you get it." "My father's armory." He held it out. "He won't miss it.” She took it. The iron was cold enough to sting. She looped the ring through the dragon's harness at the base of the neck, where it would sit against the scales in flight. "One mile," she said. "Then we're on our own." He climbed up first and offered his hand. She took it and swung behind him. The dragon rose without sound, wings wide, and cut north over the trees. Scarlett watched the ridge. The patrol appeared exactly where he said, six riders on the crest, lanterns still lit against the gray. One of them turned his head as they passed overhead. He looked straight through them. The charm was working. The iron pulled heat out of her thigh where it pressed against the harness. She counted wingbeats. Twenty. Forty. The ridge fell away behind them and the patrol did not shout, did not point, did not turn. At sixty wingbeats the charm went quiet. She felt it die like a candle going out. "Now," Kieran said. The dragon banked hard east, off the northern line, into the low cloud above the river. Scarlett kept her hand on the dead iron. They were past the patrol. They were also past the last place anyone friendly knew to look for them. Somewhere ahead, the blue dragon was bleeding into the trees. Behind them, an armory in the king's house was missing a charm.