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Ember glanced from the old man to me. “I take it this... Ouroboros is important?” she asked. “Who is he, anyway?”
I took a deep breath. “Ouroboros,” I began, hearing the awe in my own voice, “is a Wyrm. An old, old Wyrm. Right behind our infamous leader of Talon, he’s the oldest dragon in the known world.”
Ember’s brows arched. “Oh,” she said.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “So, he’s kind of a big deal. Even though he’s not supposed to exist. A long time ago—and I’m talking over three hundred years, mind—Ouroboros and the Elder Wyrm had a disagreement. Everyone has forgotten what it was about, but they think it had something to do with Talon, and the direction the Elder Wyrm was taking it. The stories say the fight was everything from an argument to a full-blown, Godzilla versus Mothra–style throw down, but in the end, Ouroboros left Talon and went rogue. The very first dragon to do so. He just...disappeared. The official consensus in Talon was that he’d died, but there is a legend, among rogues especially, that claims that somehow Ouroboros survived and is still out there. Hiding from Talon, managing to stay off their radar all this time.” Riley shook his head. “Of course, it was always just a myth. No one has seen or heard anything from Ouroboros since the day he fled Talon.”
St. George looked at the man sitting at the table. “Not so much of a myth, it appears.”
“No.” I narrowed my gaze at the stranger, suspicion rising up like dark flame. “So if what you say is true,” I said, “and Ouroboros is alive, where the hell has he been all this time? Why hasn’t he done anything? Does he not care that we’ve all been dying, thanks to Talon and St. George? He’s probably the only one who can go head-to-head with the Elder Wyrm and have a sliver of a chance. Why hasn’t he ever made himself known, contacted the rogues at the very least? Why now?”
“I do not presume to know the mind of Ouroboros,” the human stated. “I have come to deliver his message, nothing more. I do know that contacting anyone by modern means, such as phones, computers, and the like, has never been his preference. Phones can be traced. Computers can be hacked. Ouroboros is a bit of a...traditionalist, if you would. If you wish to know the answers to your questions, you will have to go to him and ask him yourself.”
I growled in frustration. “Fine. Where is he?”
The man blinked. “Forgive me, ex-Agent,” he said, still in that supremely calm voice. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you that.” He raised a hand as I stepped forward. “You, of all people, should know the lengths to which a rogue will go to keep their location a secret.”
“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Ember wanted to know.
“If you agree to meet my master, I will take you to where you must go. I warn you, however. It is a lengthy journey. Ouroboros is not here, in the United States. Hiding himself so well meant cutting himself off from nearly all of civilization. The trip to meet him will take some time.”
“Time we really don’t have,” I snapped. “There’s a war happening now, and Talon is on the move. I can’t leave the hatchlings to go traipsing halfway around the world for a chat.”
“Even if that chat is with Ouroboros?” the stranger asked mildly. “The First Rogue? One of only four great Wyrms in the entire world? Who knew the Elder Wyrm centuries ago, who is the second most powerful dragon your kind has ever known? I would think that you, ex-Agent Cobalt, with your network of dragons trying to hide from Talon, would be especially eager to see why Ouroboros has called for you.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong.” I held up a hand. “I would love to meet Ouroboros and pick his brain a little. Particularly on how he’s stayed off Talon’s radar for the past three hundred years.” I raked a palm over my scalp. “But this is a really bad time. I can’t leave the hatchlings now. Talon is still after us, and there’s probably not much time until they launch their second phase of attack, whatever it may be. I have to get my underground as far away as I can before that happens.”
Ember looked at me, then back to the man at the table. “Do we have to give you an answer now?” she asked.
“No, Miss Hill.” The man shook his head. “Please take your time. Talk among yourselves. Decide what you want to do. But...remember that Ouroboros is not a patient Wyrm, nor one that forgives or forgets.” His voice remained the same, serene and matter-of-fact. It was not a threat, merely a statement, but I felt the warning reverberate through me all the same. “He has no tolerance for those who waste his time. If you refuse this offer now, it will not be made again in your lifetimes. So please choose carefully.”
* * *
“Bloody freaking hell,” Wes remarked. “Ouroboros? The First Rogue? That’s bloody impossible. I thought he was... I mean, isn’t he supposed to be...”
“Nonexistent.” This from Mist, leaning against the far wall. Leaving the stranger under the dubious watch of a couple soldiers, Ember, St. George and I had retreated to our temporary quarters on the other side of the base. Now, the three of us were gathered in Wes’s room, along with two other dragons who had joined us recently: Mist, a former Basilisk agent whose motives for being here were still shady as hell, and Jade, an Adult Eastern dragon with a fondness for tea and being aloof.
“Ouroboros is a myth,” Mist said. “An urban legend the rogues keep alive to give them hope.” Her long silver hair glowed dully in the shadowy corner she’d claimed as hers. Even though there were still a few hours of daylight left, the curtains were drawn and the lights were turned off. The only luminance came from the screen of Wes’s laptop on the desk, because my human hacker friend seemed as allergic to sunlight as a vampire.
“He isn’t real,” the girl insisted. “Everyone in Talon knows Ouroboros died long ago. After all this time, we would have seen or heard something.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to the human sitting in St. George’s conference room,” I said, jerking my thumb back at the closed door. “Because he’s either eaten too many magic mushrooms, or he says that the First Rogue is not only real, he wants to meet with us.”
Jade, standing quietly beside a wardrobe, regarded me with interest. “If Ouroboros indeed lives and has called for you, it would be wise to go. One does not receive a summons from an ancient Wyrm often, if ever.”
“Yeah, but...” I scrubbed both hands through my hair, frustration warring with curiosity. Of course I wanted to go. This was Ouroboros, the First Rogue. The legend who had hidden his existence from Talon so well that everyone, inside the organization and out, had thought he was dead. For three hundred years. I would kill to learn his secrets.
But if I left, what would happen to my underground if Talon came for us again? My network was brave; they had fought Talon’s clone army and had turned the tide for St. George. Without our intervention, the Order would have been slaughtered.
The cost was high, far too high. Some of them hadn’t made it. Five hatchlings were dead, buried in the desert sand with the soldiers they had fought beside. I knew them all by name; I remembered the day I’d taken each of them away from Talon, with the promise of a better life, one that was free.
“You’re worried about the others,” Ember said quietly.
“Of course I am,” I answered. “I can’t leave them alone now. It’s too dangerous. Talon is actively trying to kill us, and they have a huge clone army to do it. I don’t dare send them back to the safe houses—the nests have all been compromised. I have one place left for us to go, and I can only hope Talon hasn’t found it.”
“I take it we’re going back to the farm,” Wes stated, and I nodded. He sighed. “Well, hell, Riley, I can take them there. It’s not rocket science to drive a bloody van.”
As I stared at him in shock, Jade broke in, as well. “And if you are worried about their safety,” she said, “put your mind at ease. I will remain with them until you return. Talon will not threaten any of the hatchlings while they are under my watch.”
“I... Are you two feeling all right?” I wondered, aghast. What the hell was going on here? Wes hated people, and teenagers especially. And Jade barely knew us. “What’s gotten into you two?” I asked, frowning. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing everything to get me to leave except physically pushing me out the door.”
“Riley.” Wes gave me one of his patented I’m surrounded by idiots looks. “Think about it. Ouroboros is the second-oldest dragon in the world, and he’s at odds with the bloody Elder Wyrm. What would happen if we convinced him to fight for us?” The hacker shook his head at me. “If you can’t see the potential there, mate, then I really have no hope for you at all.”
“Yes,” Jade added with a somber nod. “Know thyself, know thine enemies. A thousand battles, a thousand victories.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That we are at war.” The Eastern dragon gave me a look that was nearly as impressively disdainful as Wes’s. “And knowing our enemy will be the key to overcoming them. Knowledge is the greatest weapon we have, and who better to obtain this knowledge from than one who has lived longer than nearly everyone else on the planet?”
“And I know you, Riley,” Ember broke in. “You want to meet with Ouroboros. If you miss this chance, you’re going to be kicking yourself for the rest of your life.”
“Agreed,” Mist added. “If I was summoned by a legend, I would make that a top priority, but that’s just me.”
I sighed. “I wonder if you people realize that I’m the leader of this underground,” I remarked. “Just throwing that out there, in case you’ve forgotten.” As expected, no one seemed impressed, and I shook my head in defeat. “All right, I suppose we’re going to see what the First Rogue wants with us. Wes, Jade, if you’re sure you’ve got the hatchlings...”
“Oh, will you just go already,” Wes said. “You sound like a bloody nursemaid.”
Ember (#u9917cbca-01fa-5b5e-a60d-27ff0027e5a1)
The present
The humans surrounded us, silent as wraiths in the darkness of the jungle. There were close to a dozen of them, dark skinned and mostly naked, wearing loincloths and necklaces of shell and bone. Most carried crude wooden spears, which they’d pointed at us in a bristling ring of spikes. A few outside the circle held bows and arrows. None of them spoke, or made any sound at all. They simply watched us with unreadable black eyes.
“Okay,” Riley murmured, gazing around. “That’s a little worrisome. Do you think this is the welcome party?” His voice was amused but held a hint of warning. Garret had drawn his weapon and was keeping the muzzle pointed at the ground, ready to respond with lethal force if he had to.
“What do you think they want?” I asked, keeping my gaze on those sharp points hovering very close to my face. Garret had moved behind me, and I could feel the tension lining his muscles, his hard gaze as it swept the crowd. Riley shrugged.
“No clue, but I’m not too keen on getting skewered to find out.” His gaze slid to me, and a hard smile pulled at his mouth. “You have a change of clothes, right?”
“You want us to Shift? In front of all these humans?”
“Who are they going to tell? The news monkeys?” He rolled his eyes before his attention focused on the crowd again. “I figure this way we won’t even have to fight anyone. They’ll just drop their spears and run.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then I’d rather be in dragon form if they try to shove a spear up my ass.”
The crowd in front of us suddenly parted, and an old man stepped through, stopping just a few feet away. He was thin, nearly skeletal, with twig-like arms and only a few strands of wispy white hair stuck to his head. He regarded the three of us with eyes that were still sharp and clear, then raised a clawed hand to point at me.
“You,” he rasped in a thickly accented voice. “Name.”
“My name?” I asked. Around us, the warriors remained silent, still keeping their spears pointed at us. The old man didn’t answer, just continued to watch me with piercing black eyes. “Ember,” I said quietly. “My name is Ember Hill.”
He nodded once and stepped back, and the men surrounding us lowered their spears. The old man raised a withered hand and beckoned, indicating for us to follow.
We did, trailing him down a narrow path that soon disappeared as we went deeper into the jungle. Even for Garret and Riley, it was difficult to keep up. The old man, and the men surrounding us, moved like ghosts through the trees and vegetation, silent and nearly unseen. They blended perfectly into their world, unlike us, the noisy intruders, stomping through the undergrowth in our rugged boots, hacking at vines along the way. The jungle closed in around us, becoming darker and even more tangled, as if offended by our presence and our attempts to clear a path. After only a few minutes, I was lost, and all sense of direction had vanished into the canopy. Which made me nervous. If our mysterious guides decided to disappear and leave us stranded in the middle of the jungle, we might never find our way out.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” I whispered to Garret after a few silent minutes. The soldier had holstered his weapon but his posture was still tense, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings and the men slipping noiselessly through the trees beside us.
“I don’t know,” he replied, glancing at something overhead. I looked up and saw a small yellow monkey on a gnarled branch, peering down at me with large black eyes. “But they knew your name,” Garret went on. “That means they were waiting for us.”
We continued into the darkness. The men and our guide never slowed down or said anything, either to us or each other. The one time Riley tried talking to our guide, the old man simply shook his head and put a finger to his lips. After a couple hours of walking, I was starting to wonder if this hike would ever end, if the jungle just went on forever, when Garret suddenly nudged my arm and pointed to something in the trees ahead.
At first, I didn’t see anything different or unusual: just looming trunks, undergrowth, vines and shadows. Then the outline of a wall, stony and ancient, appeared through the trees, nearly invisible with moss, vines and gnarled roots. As we got closer, I spotted a crumbling archway in the wall, flanked by a pair of statues so weathered and moss covered that they were entirely featureless. Beyond the barrier, rising toward the jungle canopy, a huge stone structure, as weathered and moss-eaten as the statues, towered among the trees.
My brows rose. Was this where these people lived? A hidden village deep in the jungle, surrounded by the ruins of an even older civilization? I was amazed. It was hard to believe that there were still places in the world this untouched by modern conveniences, where humans had lived without electricity or phones or computers for hundreds of years.
As we approached the archway, however, the old man stopped and turned, holding up a hand. I looked around and saw that the warriors surrounding us had backed away and were standing several yards from the entrance, as if reluctant to step close.
The old man looked at me, then Riley and Garret. He took a step back, pointing at us, then to the archway beyond. I frowned.
“You’re not coming with us?”
No answer, just the repeated motion of pointing at us, then to the gate, a little more vigorously this time. Riley looked at us and shrugged.
“Guess we go on without him. Be on your guard, though. I’d hate to walk into an ambush of archers firing at us from every nook and cranny.”
We stepped toward the archway, moving cautiously as we approached the gate. I glanced over my shoulder once, and saw that the old man and the rest of the warriors were gone. Like they’d never existed.
We continued through the gate. Beyond the wall, the arch opened into a massive courtyard. Moss and vegetation had swallowed half of it, with weathered stone tiles poking up from the green and walls crumbling under the weight of gigantic roots that snaked over them like monstrous pythons. They slithered through the courtyard between uprooted stones and piles of rubble, making the footing treacherous. Crumbling buildings covered in moss and vines stood at the top of the steps, and trees pushed up through the stone, splitting roofs and walls as they reached for the sky. Between the steps and the buildings, more streets snaked off into parts unknown.
“It’s awfully quiet,” Riley remarked as we ventured warily through the sprawling courtyard. Insects scurried away from us, fleeing over rocks and vines, but they were the only sources of movement I could see. “And I’m not just saying that to be cliché. You guys can feel it, too, right?”
I nodded. He was right. A few minutes ago, the jungle was teeming with sound: buzzing insects, calling birds, howling monkeys in the treetops far overhead. Now the canopy was dead silent, as if every living creature for miles around was afraid to make a peep.
“I don’t like it,” Garret began as, at that moment, a tremor went through the ground under our feet.
We froze in the center of the courtyard, weapons out, bodies tense as we gazed around. The tremor came again, a faint vibration that made the rocks tremble, accompanied by a muffled boom. And another. Insects scattered in every direction, and a few pebbles went tumbling and bouncing down the wall, as the footsteps grew steadily louder, and my heart beat faster and faster. It nearly stopped when I saw a ridge of spines moving behind the roofs—roofs that were at least forty feet tall.
“Aw, shit,” Riley breathed. And then words failed us as a dragon the size of a building walked calmly between the ruins and into the light.
He was old; even without his massive size, I could tell that much. His scales were a dull blackish-green, the color of swamp water, and his enormous wings were tattered and full of holes. Moss and vegetation grew along his back and shoulders, giving him a shaggy look, and I suspected that when he laid down, he could blend perfectly with the jungle floor. His curved black claws were longer than my arms, and bony horns swept forward from a narrow, skull-like face, eyes burning orange-red in the sockets. Those piercing eyes now fixed on me, as the great Wyrm Ouroboros raised his head, towering over us all, and flashed the most terrifying smile in the world.
“Ember Hill.” His voice was the deep growl of thunder, shaking the earth and reverberating in my bones. “Daughter of the Elder Wyrm. We meet at last.”
My legs were shaking, and my voice had gotten caught somewhere between my heart and my throat. For a moment, I had the crazy, horrifying thought that perhaps Ouroboros had drawn us here, to a forgotten temple in the middle of nowhere, to kill us. Or, more specifically, me, the daughter of his ancient rival, the Elder Wyrm. Perhaps with the thought that disposing of the Elder Wyrm’s blood would somehow aid in Talon’s destruction. Or maybe he just wanted revenge and he couldn’t strike at the leader of Talon directly, so he would kill her daughter instead.
Well, if that’s the case, the joke’s on you. I’m not the favored twin. If you eat me, all you’ll be doing is...
...denying the Elder Wyrm immortality. My blood turned to ice. I was the Elder Wyrm’s vessel, created to house her memories so she could essentially live another thousand years. Was that why Ouroboros had called us here? Did he somehow know of the Elder Wyrm’s ultimate plan to become immortal and want to end it for good?
Ouroboros, I realized, was still watching me, like a king waiting for his slave to lift his face off the floor. I glanced up into the ghoulish, reptilian face and saw amusement in his burning eyes. He knew the effect he was having on us, and was probably reveling in it.
Come on, Ember. You’re the daughter of the Elder Wyrm. Even if he does plan to kill you, don’t let him see you sweat.
I took a furtive breath, raised my head and took one step forward, toward the second-oldest dragon in the world.
“Ouroboros.” I concentrated on keeping my voice calm, collected. Like she would. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Ouroboros laughed, the deep, booming sound making my heart skip and probably startling every bird for miles into the air. Beside me, Riley flinched, and Garret went for his gun, though I saw him force his hand away from his weapon a moment later. There was nothing we could do against a dragon this size. We would need a missile launcher to even put a dent in his armored scales. This was the king of the realm, the undisputed god of the jungle, and everyone here knew it.
I had to wonder: if Ouroboros was this huge—close to eighty feet from snout to tail, if I had to guess—how big was the Elder Wyrm?
That was a scary thought.
“Ah.” Ouroboros chuckled, shaking his massive head. “It is refreshing to actually talk to someone who will hold a proper conversation,” he stated as his voice sent tremors down my spine. “My subjects—the people you met on the way here—all they do is bow and scrape and press their faces to the dirt. When they do venture past the wall, I can’t even get them to look at me. I was hoping the daughter of the Elder Wyrm and the infamous rogue Cobalt would be less easily cowed.” He glanced at Riley and cocked his head.
There was a split-second hesitation on Riley’s part, as if he, too, had to take a breath to center himself, before his lip curled in a faint smile. “I wouldn’t want to presume,” he said, sounding like his defiant self. “You were having a nice conversation with Ember, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Not certain if the penalty for that kind of thing is death around here.”
Ouroboros snorted, and a smoke cloud the size of a small car went curling away toward the canopy. “So you are exactly as they say,” he mused, sounding pleased. “And I can see why Talon despises you so much. Perhaps you will survive what is coming, after all. But...” His expression darkened, and it was like a wall of clouds dropping over the sun, ominous and terrifying. “Before we go any further, there is one matter I will put to rest, right now.”
Through all of this, Garret hadn’t moved or said anything, and the Wyrm’s attention finally shifted to him. “St. George,” Ouroboros growled, his voice making the ground tremble. “The last I saw of your kind, I was crushing a pair of lance-wielding knights on horses. Now you hunt us with guns and vehicles and modern weapons. I might have separated myself from Talon and the rest of civilization, but I still hear the goings-on of the world. Your Order has brought much death and destruction to dragonkind. You have hunted us relentlessly for centuries, and have done your best to make us extinct.” The Wyrm’s huge body sank into a crouch, talons digging into the stone as he lowered his head, regarding the soldier with glittering red eyes. “Dragons do not forget, St. George,” he rumbled. “Nor do we forgive. I do not see how you thought to come into the lair of a great Wyrm and leave alive.”
My stomach dropped. Garret faced the dragon calmly, no sign of fear on his face, though his expression was resigned. “St. George was wrong,” he said, not moving as those massive jaws shifted closer, wreathing him in smoke. “What we did to your people...” His gaze flickered to me and Riley. “There’s no excuse for the slaughter we caused. But I’m not part of the Order any longer. I’m here because I want the fighting to end.”
Anger flared, and I clenched my fists. Why was Garret’s loyalty in question anymore? Hadn’t he done enough, proven his commitment? He had risked his life on multiple occasions, been threatened, captured, abused and shot in the back by his own Order, all to keep dragons safe. To show St. George that their ancient enemies were not the demons they believed them to be.
Of course, that was before Talon released their mindless dragon army on the Order and nearly destroyed them in one fell swoop. So, they weren’t helping things at all. But a few in the Order were starting to listen. Like Lieutenant Martin. If he could allow a bunch of rogue dragons into his base, then there was hope, after all. Hope for a future without war, where dragons didn’t have to live in fear. Where teenagers weren’t trained as killers and assassins. And where a former soldier of St. George and a dragon could be together without both sides trying to tear them apart or kill them.
Frighteningly, Ouroboros didn’t look impressed or appeased. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough, dragonslayer,” he said, making my heart pound with terror. “Are you telling me a murderer should not be punished just because he is repentant? That remorse will erase all the blood on his hands, all the lives he has taken?”
“No.” Garret’s voice was a whisper, though he quickly composed himself, gazing up at the monstrous dragon looming overhead. “But I can do more good alive than dead. At least until this is over. I know it will never be enough, but I can try to make up for my past.”
“Can you?” The great Wyrm curled a lip, showing a flash of yellow fangs the size of short swords. “You are one human. Your life is but a heartbeat. A flap of a butterfly’s wing. If I destroy you here, squash you like an insect, no one will know. No one will mourn you. One less human in the world will not make any difference.”
“Hey, now.” Riley sounded nervous. “I admit, the guy was a bastard when he worked for St. George, but he’s been pretty useful to us.”
The Wyrm ignored him. With a terrifying smile, he sat up, towering over us. “I’ll make this sporting, St. George,” he said, and nodded back toward the gate, in the direction we came in. “Run. Now. We’ll see how far you can get before my flames catch up to you. And, human, I haven’t had to chase anything for over a hundred years. Do try to make a fight of it, won’t you?”
Garret didn’t move. I saw his gaze flicker to me for the briefest of moments, saw the countless emotions burning in his eyes, before he faced the Wyrm once more. “No,” he said calmly. “I’m not running. I have nothing to hide anymore.”
“Well.” Ouroboros sniffed, sounding faintly peeved. “You’re no fun at all, are you? I guess I’ll have to be content with a quick snack, then. Don’t worry, though, human.” He reared back like a snake, jaws opening to show his fangs and enormous maw. “I’ll make it quick.”
I lunged in front of Garret, feeling my body explode into dragon form as I did. The great Wyrm pulled up in surprise as I spun to face him, spreading my wings in a desperate attempt to shield the soldier from the massive creature before us. I knew nothing I did would help; one swat from Ouroboros would easily kill us both. But I wouldn’t stand there and watch Garret die in front of me.
There was another ripple of energy, and a lithe blue dragon stepped in front of the ancient Wyrm, as well. Stunned, I glanced at Cobalt, but he wasn’t looking at me, his narrowed gold gaze was on the huge dragon overhead.
“This isn’t why we came, Ouroboros,” the rogue said, the tremor in his voice barely noticeable. “And you didn’t call us here just for a snack. What do you really want?”
