But with the astrolabe under one arm and my father supported by the other, there was no way I could fight.
As I scanned the crowd for someone to hide and protect the astrolabe—someone wily, someone confident—my eyes fell across Michelle Ballinger, busily scouring the remnants of the weapons arsenal. She had a battle ax clutched in her hands and a wild look in her eye. “Theon!” she cried. I remembered with a pang of guilt that she did not know Nell had returned. As unfair as it was for me to have to feel remorse, I couldn’t help it. No fire dragon rejoiced in the pains of another, even one willingly blinded by the throes of unrequited love.
“Michelle! I need you!”
She spun to face me, and I felt another pang. The wording could have been a little more artful. The way her face softened, making her so much younger and sweeter—more like Nell, in truth—was difficult to see. I hated being the one to evoke that feeling from her.
“Theon,” she said, marching toward me, battle ax at the ready. Just like riding dragons, she held the unwieldy weapon as if she’d been born doing so. “You’re back.” She sounded so… joyous. She didn’t even pause to sling one of her barbs. “What do you need me for?”
“You remember the conversation with my mother,” I informed her, bypassing the fact that we’d been on the verge of kissing only seconds before that conversation had taken place. “The astrolabe is of utmost importance; it not only controls the weather, some argue that it controls the whims of the fates themselves. We have secured it from the Aena castle, and it is imperative that the device not fall back into ice dragon hands. If it does, The Hearthlands will be plunged again into eternal winter, and all the more unlikely to ever see the rightful king ascend. The war will rage endlessly between our two races.”
Michelle threw down her battle ax and took the astrolabe from me with great care.
“How did you get this?” she wondered, glancing up at me.
“Penelope,” I answered, the name almost jamming in my throat. Michelle’s eyes darkened at the word. “Penelope has returned from the castle, and brought with her this crucial device.”
Michelle just stared up at me. “But now,” she finished for me, “the war can end. And I can go home. And Nell… can be your queen.” Tears crusted her eyes, though they did not fall, even when she blinked.
“Please focus, Michelle. This has nothing to do with you, or even me. This is about The Hearthlands. The ice dragons will never target or suspect you; you are a human woman. Simply find a safe place—”
A blast of icy air interrupted; soldiers were just outside this arsenal. Fire dragons rushed forward to meet the assault, giving us just a few precious seconds of privacy.
“—and hide it,” I finished. Now with one free hand, I used it to brace her shoulder. We would never be together, but perhaps we could still be friends. “Please, Michelle. You could be the one who saves this dynasty.”
She pursed her lips, nodded, and receded, deeper into the arsenal, further into the circuitous caverns beyond, and I was actually glad that she had been the one I’d seen in this hour of need. If anyone could employ espionage to endure amid struggle, I had to trust that it would be Michelle.
I pulled Father forward, into the next chamber, but halted again when I saw what lay before us—a particularly long and slender ice dragon had cornered a human female. He was ambling toward the dark-haired girl with malevolent savor.
It was Penelope.
Although multiple fire dragons assaulted his armored hide, the ice dragon was too thick of scale. He was impervious to the pain, even during this warmth and light on the island today. It was almost as if he had some personal vendetta to satisfy, and in spite of the pain, he was determined to forge onward. Without advancing directly into his path, there was no hope of landing an effective strike.
I recognized that slender ice dragon, its body as lanky as a salamander’s, and I knew the reason behind that determined advance, in spite of whatever slings were launched at his backside: Lethe.
Mother came forward, glorious and orange, and my heart sank in horror as the ice dragon launched his first real attack—on her.
“No!” I cried, and a purely instinctive fire spread through my every cell, transforming me in a matter of seconds. The fire which came streaming from my mouth was white with heat, and it coursed onto Lethe, battering him into the cavern wall. I didn’t stop—was incapable of stopping—until the coward had scrambled from sight, badly burnt.
He would not be fighting in this war again. Not for a long time.
Smoke leaked from my flesh after I regained my mortal form.