The Last Namsara (Iskari #1)(87)

“For the Iskari.”

All the eyes in the tent settled on Asha, who rose to her feet. She took the parchment and broke the seal. A seal she recognized as the commandant’s. Her fingers shook as she unrolled it and read: If you want him alive, you’ll hand yourself over tonight.

It was signed: Your beloved husband.

The parchment fell to the dirt at her feet.

“Asha?”

She moved for the tent opening. Dax stopped her, forcing her to look into his eyes. “What is it?”

“Let go of me.”

From behind her, Safire picked up the message and read it. “He has Torwin. . . .”

The words rocked her. Asha knew, better than anyone, what they meant.

She pushed past Dax and ran. Jas reached, trying to stop her, but she was too fast. Asha ran hard to the edge of the camp and up through the woods. Safire was behind her; she knew the steady thump of those footsteps by heart. But Asha ran faster, calling Kozu to her as she did.

She knew her way through the woods now. And by the time she reached the other side of the trees, the First Dragon waited, glimmering in the starlight. Asha launched herself onto his back.

Safire stumbled out of the woods behind her.

“Asha!”

Asha paused.

“Please. Don’t go down there alone.”

Asha looked back. Safire’s face tilted upward. The starlight gleamed on her skin and her eyebrows knit together with worry.

At a movement in the trees, both their heads turned. Reaching down, Asha grabbed her cousin’s arm and pulled her up.

“Hold on tight.”

Safire’s arms came around Asha’s waist just as Kozu leaped into the air.





Forty-Four


The moment the lake came into view, shimmering beneath the pale light of the moon, Asha saw the scorched rock. There’d been a fire. Torwin’s tent was in tatters.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Kozu landed and Asha dropped to the rock, with Safire following her, both of them staring at the hump in the darkness.

“Shadow?” Asha called softly. The hump didn’t move.

Safire stayed back while Asha moved closer. She stepped in blood. It glistened on the rock all around her, pooling from some deep gash. The dust-red dragon curled tightly around himself. His eyes were closed.

“Shadow?” Asha’s voice sounded tinny in her ears.

Those pale eyes opened slowly and only halfway.

Asha let out a shuddering breath. “Oh Shadow . . .”

She sank to her knees, reaching for his snout. His eyes closed again.

“No,” she said. She needed to figure out how deep the wound was. Where the wound was. So she could tend it. “Come on. Get up.”

Pale eyes flickered open. He didn’t raise his head, just looked at her. Like he was too tired. Like his playful spark had gone out. His stare made her think of Torwin, walking away, trying to soak up the sight of her before he was gone.

“Get up!” Her voice shook. Her hands trembled. She got to her feet and walked around him. His chest rose and fell slowly. Hardly at all.

“Asha . . . ,” Safire said softly from behind her.

Ignoring her cousin, Asha pushed on his haunches. She sharpened her voice. “Get up, Shadow.”

This time, he tried. He raised his head and several heartbeats later, he pushed up on his front legs, but his claws slipped in blood and he fell with a terrible thud.

Asha saw the gash in his chest then. It was so deep. Right next to his heart, which slowed with each thump.

Asha’s eyes blurred with tears.

She could feel him straining, feel him trying—because she wanted him to. Because he loved her and it was the very last thing he could do for her.

“Good, Shadow,” Asha whispered, pressing her hand over his heart. It beat so faintly now. Like a dying echo across the Rift. “That’s so good, Shadow. You can lie down now. Just lie back down. . . .”

Shadow collapsed. Asha sank to her knees. The dragon’s black blood soaked her dress.

Safire came to sit beside her.

As the star in him faded, Asha pulled Shadow’s warm snout into her lap. As his eyes closed, she told him one last story. The story of a girl who hunted dragons to soothe the hurt in her heart. The story of the dragon who changed her.

By the time she finished telling it, there was no rise and fall of his chest. No flicker of pale eyes trying to open.

Shadow had stopped breathing.

He was gone.

“Oh, Asha,” whispered Safire.

While Asha sobbed out her rage and grief, Safire’s arm came around her, pulling her in, cradling her while she cried.

Kozu came out of the shadows then. He nudged the younger dragon with his snout. He nudged twice. When Shadow didn’t respond, a sound split the night in two, joining with Asha’s sobs. A low, keening wail.

A dragon song for the dead.





Forty-Five


“I’m going to kill him.”

Safire dragged Asha out of the pool of dragon blood and brought her to the lake edge, trying to wash it from her knees and legs.

“I’m going to gut him with my bare hands and use his entrails for dragon bait.”

Her dress was ruined. Soaked in blood. When Safire finished washing her, Asha headed for Kozu. She would fly to the city this very night and carve out Jarek’s heart.