"Well, well, well, look who we ran into."
My feet became leaden. They had me, my body weighted in place from shock more than fear. Their hunt for me wasn't some passing fancy if they'd follow me into the Forest of Nightmares. Didn't they read the legends? Surely their orders didn't include tracking down a defector to the point they were risking their best Guardsman.
But here he was, Fallon with his dragon, his two goons flanking each side. Fallon stood tall. Who wouldn't with a dragon of that size at his back? And that dragon was every bit as commanding on the ground as from the sky, black scales glinting in the soft sunlight in the forest clearing.
Not a hint of emotion on Fallon's face, but his mount sneered enough for the both of them.
"Hilda requests your presence at guard headquarters, Arlet Wixx." Fallon noted my wince at his use of my full, correct name. His smirk confirmed his pleasure at my discomfort.
Pseudonyms had been the name of my game for so long, hearing the true name as my parent's intended cut deep. Would they be proud to see me fear the name that was supposed to stand for so much? Or would they shun their only child for shirking the duty to her country, refusing the role in the Guard?
Pride. I had to believe it'd be pride at least from my father. I could hear him now, hands on each of my shoulders, instructing me on the escape options. The war hero sharing strategy with his daughter, even from the grave.
Assess for weaknesses, dad would say. Fallon, Brock, and Trace. The most feared trio in the guard. Fallon, the best commander they'd seen. Trace, to his right, saw everything and missed nothing, his mind speak magic further proof of that talent. But Brock to the left...that one was too cocky for his own good. He was my target.
A quick faint to the left, and I'd have my opening. A path over Brock's shoulder, worn by the footsteps of many animals would give me enough clearance to run, but not for them to follow with their mounts.
Dragon fire was a concern, sure. I half expected it would chase me into the forest, but that all depended on if I was more valubale alive than dead. I had to rely on the fact they seemed to need me for a reason more than just to catch the only person ever to defect from the Dragon Guard.
Feet leaping one direction while my body flew the way I wanted to go, they fell for it. I had the edge I wanted on the cocky bastard, only to halt at a blockade of glowing eyes and snapping teeth.
I tossed a wall of flames between me and the living barricade without considering the consequences.
"Whoa, combat magic, man." Brock infused each word with surprise but eyed me with greed.
Realizing my error, the wall of fire faded though every muscle remained tense.
Dripping fangs glinted in the shafts of light that reached into the shadowy forest. Wolves, many of them, as large as proclaimed in the myths of this land.
"Earth magic." Of course he would. Fallon, that smug bastard. "They follow my command. Right now, that command is to keep you from leaving this clearing."
Beads of sweat trailed down my temples. Burn your way through the wolves, my brain seemed to argue. But my instincts held the reins on my magic, warring with my brain that combat was a mistake.
"Fallon." All heads, dragons included, swiveled to Trace. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut until they flung open, wide and urgent. "We're needed at the city. Now."
Fallon and Trace mounted their dragons without another word. But Brock didn't budge. "What about the girl?"
Fallon glared at Brock, his dragon tossing a puff of steam Brock's direction. "We are needed. Did you not hear?"
Brock pursed his lips but said nothing as he hoisted his large form to mount.
"Into the sky with Trace. Await my arrival before you fly."
The wind from Brock's dragon's flight knocked stands of my messy hair into my face. Parting them back to each side, I gasped. A single green eye, probably the size of half my skull, peered at me like it could see into my soul.
I willed my heart to calm its flutter, while each piece of courage kept me staring at that dragon's eye right back.
Fallon shifted, reminding me that indeed this dragon had a rider. "Here, give me your hand."
"Hand? Are you crazy?" A hand implied he intended to help me up. And I wasn't going up.
"Ride with us to the city."
"Never." Both him and that invitation could rot in hell.
"Your combat magic would be highly valued." Fallon rolled his shoulders. "Whatever they're calling us for will not be good."
Like I cared. This country and its problems could also rot in hell.
"Or you could stay here with the creatures of the forest. They were so eager to follow my command. I doubt they stop once I leave." Fallon's dragon huffed another smoke cloud, the steam shows clearly his way of supporting his rider.
This cursed magic, I should have never made a spectacle of it. Now, not only would I be hunted, but they knew I was more than a defector. I was a defector with impressive magic.
Impressive magic. That was it. I had impressive magic. Magic that could defend me at any time, in any locale.
Going with Fallon now didn't mean I was giving up. It meant I was saving my fight for another time, another place.
As if I needed the extra push, a growl sounded at my back, and I threw my hand towards Fallon. With a single tug and flex of his arm, I slid onto the back of my very first dragon.
