Scarlett Meris's Arc

Chapter 4 of 15

Scarlett left the dead bronze in the bracken and climbed on foot back toward the healing house. Halfway up the ridge, the sky turned the color of a bruise. A long shadow crossed the pines. Then the roar came — low, wet, and old. The pup's mother had found the east slope. Scarlett dropped behind a stone and looked up. The silver dragon circled the ridge, wings ragged, mouth open. She was calling for her pup. Every pass took her closer to the valley, where the human village lay under thatch and smoke. If she torched a single roof, riders would come out of the city by dawn. Every dragon in Vereayl would be hunted to the bone. The fae hidden among the humans would burn beside them. Brynn met her at the tree line, satchel already open, copper braid stuck to her neck with sweat. "She's grieving," Brynn said. "She'll burn the valley." "I know." "You can't fight her." "I'm not going to fight her." Scarlett unwrapped the bundle at her back. Inside lay the silver pup, breathing shallow, wound packed with red petals from the winding vines Brynn kept behind the house. "She needs to see him. Alive." Brynn's mouth tightened. "Move him and you tear the wound." "Leave him and we lose everything." Brynn didn't argue twice. She pressed a fresh handful of petals into the pup's side and stepped back. A branch snapped behind them. Kieran came through the pines at a run, coat open, the crown-shape in his pocket knocking against his hip. He looked at the sky, then at the pup in Scarlett's arms. He didn't ask. "I need a mount," Scarlett said. "Mine can't fly." He whistled once, low. A green dragon slid down out of the cloud, spiked tail cutting the mist, yellow eyes fixed on him. Scarlett had never seen the beast on the ridge before. Kieran laid a hand on the green's shoulder like he'd done it a thousand times. From his belt he drew a silver sword — runes lit along the blade in six colors, the wooden grip warm with worked fae flame. He pressed it hilt-first into her free hand. "For the hunters, not the mother," he said. "Show her the pup first. If she strikes, the runes will turn one blow. One." "Where did you get this?" "Later." He looked away. "My house keeps things it shouldn't." Scarlett climbed the green. She held the pup high against her chest and rose through the pines. The mother saw her at fifty feet and folded her wings to dive. Scarlett did not roll. She held still and lifted the pup into the light. The mother pulled up hard, wings booming, and hung in the air above her, breath hot enough to blister. The pup stirred and cried once. The mother answered. She turned from the village and followed Scarlett back into the trees. The valley did not burn. But Kieran stood in the clearing with his hand still open, and Scarlett now carried a fae-court blade she could not explain — and neither could he.