Tristan's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

Tristan hit the ground floor with the portrait still against his chest. Faelynn and Ashton ran at his heels. Outside, the courtyard roared. Elizabeth's dragon swept low over the wall. Its purple scales flashed gold in the firelight. It opened its jaws and fire poured down. Soldiers who had run from the castle burned where they stood. Their screams cut short. The heat rolled through the shattered doors and struck Tristan's face. "She won't stop," Ashton said. "She's clearing a path." Tristan watched his sister above the flames. Her long braid whipped in the wind. She had told him not to come here. She had come anyway. Now the whole yard burned for it. They turned toward the main room. A figure stepped from the shadow of a fallen arch. Tristan raised his blade, then stopped. It was Mara, their ally, the witch who had sworn to keep him alive. Her purple coat was streaked with soot. Her dark eyes found the three of them and narrowed. "You fools," Mara said. She crossed to them fast. "You slipped out in the night without a word. I've been hunting you through a burning ruin." She jabbed a finger at Tristan's chest. "Your ceremony is in two days, and you nearly died for a painting." "I got the proof," Tristan said. "Proof is worthless if you're dead." But she gripped his arm and pulled him forward. "Move. Behind me." They ran into the main room. Four soldiers blocked the far doors. They spun, swords up. Mara did not slow. She raised one hand and twisted her fingers. The soldiers stiffened. Their heads snapped sideways with a wet crack. All four dropped at once. Faelynn stared. Mara was already stepping over the bodies. "The door," Mara said. "Now." They burst out the front of the castle. Ash fell like snow. Tristan filled his lungs and gave a long, rising whistle. For a moment nothing came. Then wings beat overhead. His own dragon dropped into the yard and folded low. Tristan climbed its neck and hauled Faelynn up behind him. Ashton and Mara scrambled on last. "Fly," Tristan said. The dragon leapt. The burning castle fell away below. Cold air tore at their faces. Tristan looked back. Elizabeth's dragon rose from the smoke and turned after them. She followed close, her wings matching theirs, guarding their retreat as they cut across the dark toward the palace. Mara leaned close behind him. "You have your proof," she said. "But every soldier for a hundred miles saw two dragons tonight. They know exactly where you'll be for the ceremony." Tristan gripped the portrait tighter. He had escaped the castle. He had won nothing but a shorter clock. In two days they would come for him, and now they knew his face.