One skidded to a stop ten feet in front of her. She tensed. Every maneuver Leto had taught her was coiled in her limbs. They could shoot her, or they could fight. She would win if they chose the latter.
The figure lifted his goggles and threw back the hood of his parka. Bright blond hair shone bronze and copper and gold in the fading sunshine. He always had seemed like some creature made of precious, untouchable treasures, with the blue waters of the Aegean reflected in his eyes.
“Mal!”
She catapulted forward so fast she thought she’d knock him from the seat of his snowmobile. But he’d always been strong. Despite disagreements, they caught each other in a flurry of hugs and quick words of explanation.
“Now Leto has gone ahead. We have to go.”
“Who’s Leto?” he asked, frowning.
“He’s . . .” She climbed behind him on the snowmobile and grabbed around her cousin’s waist. “He’s more than I can explain right now. Mal, just ride.”
Three other people fell in line behind their Giva. They made short work of the distance remaining to the arena outpost. Hard to believe she’d fought with such gusto and pride within those high, forbidding walls. Caught in Ulia’s mind trap, she’d wanted to win so that the Asters would be pleased. The bumping speed of the snowmobile over ice only added to her distress.
She concentrated until two thoughts remained.
Those would be her two most important goals for the rest of her life.
The patter of what sounded like rain arced around them. Sprays of ice shot up from where bullets struck, some ordinary, some glowing with napalm. One of the snowmobile drivers was hit dead center in the chest. Whether man or woman, Nynn would never know. The body swelled green from the inside out where it hit the ground, and would continue to burn until someone used a Dragon-forged sword to end that misery. The vehicle tumbled to a sputtering stop, useless.
Mal grabbed her hands and pulled her tight against his back. They leaned forward so far that Nynn grasped the throttle. She could barely see, could only trust and try to keep them riding straight. Mal balanced, then lifted his arms. The sky shrieked with a crack of lightning. Another. Then another. He gathered them like the stems of flowers, then hurtled them like javelins.
Marble with brick underlay shattered out into the snow. Smoke obscured the damage he’d done. Nynn shuddered against his back as more streaks of lightning cut the deepening afternoon blue.
The machine guns went silent.
Mal took control of the snowmobile, then throttled it to a stop.
The sudden silence was like pain in Nynn’s ears. She was probably speaking too loudly when she asked, “How did you know where to strike?”
Removing his goggles again, Mal nodded toward another driver—a woman who’d removed her helmet. “Indranan. She showed me their minds.”
“And you
The woman scowled, but Mal lifted his hands. His face had hardened in that way she knew so well. The expression said argument was no option. “You’d rather I guessed? Or turned the building to rubble?”
Her spine stiffened, but she managed to propel her frozen body from the seat. “I remember now, cousin. Everything.”
At least that got to him. He inhaled sharply before his narrow lips softened with obvious regret. The Honorable Giva, unnerved. “I’m glad,” he replied quietly. “Not for your suffering, but because you’ve been freed.”
“I
Inside, she was hit by a sudden headache as her brain adjusted to the change from cold to pleasant warmth. One intake of breath was followed by a flood of bile at the base of her tongue. Her stomach pitched.
She’d been right. Oh, by the Dragon. She was back in hell.
That meant she was only steps away from Jack.
“Prisoners or enemies.” Mal’s voice was authoritative but calm as he spoke to the Indranan woman. “Can you find any?”
She shook her head, then shuddered so hard that Nynn could see it ripple across the thick parka. “There’s another Indranan here. More powerful. The best I can do is keep her distracted.”
Unless the Asters kept another tame Indranan in the complex, Nynn knew it would be Ulia. So many scores to settle, but her thoughts remained focused.
A flurry of guards stormed along the two corridors that intersected at the building’s destroyed corner. Another Dragon King in a parka—dark hair tipped with silver, eerily familiar features—shed his winter clothing. Power bunched up the line of his back. “Giva, you take half. Time for those tempers of ours.”
Stunned, Nynn watched the man flare into a full berserker rage. No weapons. No armor. Just the ferocity of a Pendray warrior who held nothing back. He tore through the guards along the left corridor, while Mal strode down the right. Sparks of lightning shot from his fingertips and pulsed from the walls. She followed the berserker—a living tornado—because he was mowing through the guards at a quicker clip than her deliberate cousin.
The stranger jerked her to the side, just as another stream of napalm bullets shot down the hall. He moved nearly as fast as Leto, but without the elegance, as if his Pendray gift made him too angry for physics to restrain. Half of her could relate.
Pinned to the wall, she watched as the stranger kicked two more guards within inches of death. She slipped free and picked up a discarded napalm rifle. Dragon, she didn’t know how to shoot the thing. She’d be better equipped with her fists or a dagger. Funny how what had been important training in the Cages was trumped by how to aim and shoot.
“Go,” the man shouted.
She saw a clearing between the bodies and hurried through corridors, past rooms that began to ring with familiarity. She knew this place by its smell. She’d been prodded down these hallways—and sometimes wheeled by gurney. The surgery theater on the right. The prep room on the left. Farther down, the containment cells where she’d been strapped to tables.
She began to scream Jack’s name, although the logical woman at the back of her mind knew fury and desperation were liabilities. Didn’t matter. Just saying his name with the knowledge that he might hear was too much to contain.
A shadow in her periphery.
She whirled.
Hark used a flat hunk of sheet metal to knock the barrel of the rifle away, just as Nynn fired. Green glowed in the austere marble just behind his head. His eyes flared wide. A quick exhale and a small smile. “That was close.” He nodded toward another long hallway. “Any clue? Down there?”
“Yes,” Nynn said. “That’s the one.”
Armed, she and Hark hurried on. Every corner was both familiar and disorienting. Pain ricocheted through her body, as if the rooms she passed could reach out and reenact the torture. A year lost. A husband lost. But, Dragon-willing, not her son.
The lights snapped off. She and Hark bumped to a stop. What had been disorienting was terrifying now.
“Firecracker,” Hark whispered. “Do your thing.”
Nynn sparked to life. She glowed with electric energy. Just a lantern given to her by the Dragon, lighting her way.
She focused. Took two steps. And saw the Pet at the end of the hall.
