Inferno (Talon #5)(69)

“Riley,” Ember said before Ward could erupt. “We’re not here to fight each other. And he does have a point. Lieutenant Ward,” she continued, staring the man down, “I understand your concern, but our options are limited. None of the hatchlings or dragonells has been trained like your soldiers, but they are dragons. And more important, they are all willing to fight. They’ve seen battle before, and they know what they’re going up against. At this point in the game, with the numbers working against us, we can’t be selective. The question is, will you and your soldiers be willing to work with them? Are you willing to accept that most of your troops will be dragons?”

I watched her, feeling proud as she stood up to the Order’s most infamous lieutenant. A few days ago, I expected Ward to argue, just for the sake of disagreeing with anything a dragon said. But that was before Ember had stood between him and the killing flames of an Adult. It was difficult to despise someone who had saved your life, even if they were supposed to be your mortal enemy. As she had done with me, Ember was challenging everything the Order thought about her kind. If she survived the upcoming battle, she would be vital in bridging the gap between dragons and the rest of the Order of St. George.

Ward gave an annoyed sigh. “Yes,” he snapped. “With how important the mission is, I suppose having dragons fighting alongside my troops is unavoidable. But what of the lizards? Will they accept orders from us?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Riley broke in. His mouth was set in a grim, determined line as he faced the officers. “I’ll be there. No offense, but I’m not willing to leave them in the hands of the Order. I’ll lead the assault on the main gate. You just worry about backing us up.”

“Cobalt, no.” Shockingly, it was Mist who spoke, the first time she’d said anything at any of these meetings. Pushing herself off the wall, she stepped up to the table, narrowing her gaze at the other Basilisk. “You’re going to die if you charge at Talon head-on,” she told him, and the worry in her voice surprised me. “You’re a Basilisk—you’re better off leading the infiltration into the laboratory.”

“These are my hatchlings,” Riley said. “My underground. I won’t leave them to die at the hands of Talon.” Mist started to protest, but he overrode her. “I might’ve been a Basilisk, but first and foremost, I am the leader of this resistance. My responsibility will always be to them.

“Besides,” he went on, his voice softening, “we already have a Basilisk who will go with the infiltration team. And she’ll do just as good a job as me, maybe even better.” Mist blinked, and he offered a smile. “You don’t need me there—Basilisks always work best alone. Just support and help the team like you’ve always done. I know I’ll be putting them in good hands.”

Mist sighed and glanced at Ember. “I have a feeling I know who’ll be leading it.”

Martin’s gaze slid to me. “And what about you, Sebastian?” he asked. “You’ve been very quiet over there. What are your thoughts on this operation?”

“I’m just a soldier, sir,” I replied. “I’ll go where I’m needed. And I’ll do what has to be done.” Though I already knew my part in the operation, where I would be. At Ember’s side, fighting to get her and the others into the room with Talon’s vessel army, making sure they had a chance to save us all. Martin seemed to realize this, as well, for he gave a faint smile and shook his head.

“So, it’s decided,” Riley announced. “We have forty-eight hours to get ready. Get everyone together, gather all the supplies and weapons we need, make sure everyone knows the plan. In two days, this is going down. And we’ll either succeed and stop Talon from taking over the world, or we’ll die trying.”

Silence fell over the room as Riley finished. As we all realized what we were up against, and what it would mean for everyone. This was it. The final confrontation. The last battle with Talon, where the only outcomes were victory, or death. Retreat was not an option. No matter how much opposition we faced, no matter how grim the odds, we could not leave until we finished what we came to do. Talon’s army had to be destroyed.

Even if that meant the death of every last soul in the resistance.

*

“Crazy times, ain’t it?” Tristan muttered.

I nodded absently. We were sitting on the roof of the farmhouse, Tristan’s rifle over his knee, gazing over the endless fields, forest and pastureland surrounding the property. It wasn’t Tristan’s turn for guard duty, but this was his favorite spot: high overhead, lonely and isolated, where he could see everything for miles.

“I was wondering…” Tristan mused again, looking down at the yard, where a duo of soldiers passed a small group of rogues headed for the farmhouse. The two groups nodded stiffly to each other, and then continued on their way. “Let’s say a miracle happens. Let’s say, somehow, Talon crumbles and we actually win this war. What’s going to happen to the Order, now that we’ve fought beside ‘the enemy’?” I can see the council demanding that we turn around and slaughter every dragon here, but I know that some of us—hell, maybe most of us—are going to have a problem with that. If St. George decides not to kill dragons anymore, what’s going to become of the Order? Where will we fit in?”